The Ivory Estate

The black sedan rolled to a complete stop outside the heavy iron gates of the Yoo family estate. The sky was a purplish-amber hue, the sun half-eaten by the growing moon. The mercenary stepped out of the sedan and closed the door. He turned and faced the estate, left hand resting lightly on the hilt of the straight sword sheathed on his hip. He was decked out in full tactical wear, black covering every inch of his exposed skin apart from his face. The clothes looked simple and clung tightly, but it was practical. Efficient.

He raised his head and took in the sight of the ivory estate — white marbled walls gleaming under the setting sun, a grand fountain sitting behind the sturdy gates. Flowers and trimmed bushes were scattered across the front yard, colouring the plain white background of the estate’s walls. Guards patrolled the perimeter in pairs, each one radiating deep, solid yellow wariness in their upper torso, weapons held ready.

The mercenary gave an indifferent expression as he took in the sight, walking towards the guards positioned at the gate.

“State your identity,” the guard on the right demanded, both men raising their rifles.

“Voidborn,” the mercenary stated flatly, showing the emblem pinned on his chest. “I've come to take on the request of escorting Lady Yoo Jimin.”

The guard who asked the question lowered his weapon and tapped on the device in his ear, speaking quietly. After a few moments, he dropped his hand and signalled for the other guard to stand down.

“The butler is approaching. Please wait here and he will escort you inside.”

The mercenary simply nodded and turned to face the gate, staring at the fountain behind impassively.

A minute passed. No one came out.

Two minutes passed. Still the same.

Five minutes passed. The mercenary stood there unmoving, expressionless.

The guards’ eyeballs kept flicking to him, frowns appearing on their faces. But to the mercenary, all he could see was a swirling mix of yellow wariness and purple confusion.

The sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth minutes passed in a similar fashion, the whirlpool purple and yellow growing stronger.

Then on the tenth, the gate opened. A middle-aged man donned in typical butler clothing emerged from the side, filled with a sky-blue serenity. He approached the mercenary and bowed in embarrassment.

“Apologies for the long wait, Voidborn. Master and Madam Yoo were in the middle of dinner. I shall bring you to them now.”

The mercenary nods.

Seeing the complete lack of reaction, the butler’s sky-blue serenity flickered and faded. He quickly composed himself, replacing it with practiced amber warmth as he led the way inside. The mercenary followed in silence, boots crunching softly on the gravel path. As he entered the main door and followed the butler through the corridors, his eyes darted around to gather any and every piece of information. Number of rooms, possible escape routes, number of guards, patrolling tendencies; perhaps they would be his enemy one day.

They spiralled up the stairs to the highest level, before making their way towards the end of the corridor where a majestic steel door stood. The butler turned and looked at the mercenary with a small bow.

“Please wait for a moment while I notify Master and Madam Yoo of your arrival.”

He gave a nod and stood there, hand still resting on his sword hilt.

The butler opened the door and disappeared into the room, leaving you outside along the empty corridor. There wasn’t anyone in the corridor on this entire floor as compared to the others, which was puzzling, but the mercenary paid it no mind. After a few quick moments, the door swung open once again, wider this time. The butler stood at the side and raised his hand outwards, guiding you inside.

“Please enter. Master and Madam Yoo are inside.”

He nodded and entered the room. The moment he crossed the threshold, his grip on his sword tightened. A man in a suit sat in the centre of the room, sporting a neatly trimmed moustache and few faint wrinkles that spoke of experience. But what stood out was the solid silver-teal hue covering his heart, as if it were a barricade of steel. Multiple colours seeped out from it, controlled and contained.

“A mechanist. A highborn, at that,” the mercenary thought, expression unchanged.

Beside him sat an elegant lady in pink floral dress, chestnut hair tied in a bun. Her aura was vibrant and fluid, but what stood out most was her gentle, nurturing smile.

Behind them stood a slim and relatively tall young man, carrying the same silver-teal around his heart, though it was visibly weaker and less dense than the elder man’s.

“Apologies for the wait, Voidborn. I am Clark Yoo, and this is my wife, Seraphine Yoo. You can just call us Mr and Mrs Yoo.”

The mercenary gave a subtle nod. His eyes drifted to the man behind them.

“Derrick Yoo,” the young man said calmly, voice noticeably soft and gentle despite his tall stature. “Rebirth 3 Mechanist, Machinist.”

“Going straight to introductions already, Derrick?” Mrs. Yoo chuckled behind her hand. “At least let our guest settle.”

She turned to the mercenary. “Nice to meet you, Voidborn. Do you have a name?”

“Voidborn.”

“Not much of a speaker, are we?” Mr Yoo said, scanning him. “And you?”

“Rebirth 1 Savage, Fighter.”

“Oh? Only a Rebirth 1 Reborn and yet your mission completion rate almost flawless?” Mr Yoo said with his eyebrows raised.

In the next instance—

A grinding of gears and tinkering of metal filled the room. In a span of seconds, countless turrets erupted into existence around the room, surrounding Voidborn, each barrel locking onto the mercenary.

“Rebirth 4 Mechanist, Artificer.” Mr Yoo’s voice boomed, shockwaves sent along with every syllable spoken.

Mrs Yoo sat beside him calmly, observing Voidborn. Derrick shifted behind them, visibly strained by the sudden output of force.

However, Voidborn did not move, gaze fixated on Mr Yoo. The stare off continued for tens of seconds.

“You’re gonna scare him off if you keep this up, dear,” Mrs Yoo finally spoke, resting her hand on her husband’s thigh. “Please forgive him, he’s always like this whenever he meets someone interesting or intriguing. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Voidborn simply nodded.

“You’re not afraid. Why?” Mr Yoo asked.

“You had no intention on hurting me.”

Then—

“HAHAHA!” Mr Yoo burst out laughing, the turrets disappearing as quickly as they arrived. “I like you. I think Karina will be in good hands, right, honey?”

“I think so too,” Mrs Yoo smiled. She raised her hand and called for the butler standing by the door. “Call Jimin.”

The butler bowed and exited the room, leaving a brief silence behind.

The mercenary remained still, posture unchanged, hand still resting near his sword hilt. Mr Yoo had already relaxed back into his seat, but the faint presence of residual Mechanist pressure still lingered in the air, humming like the aftershocks of thunder. Derrick exhaled quietly behind them, rolling his shoulders as the tension faded.

“She’s finishing dinner,” Mrs Yoo said softly, as if the earlier display of absolute power never happened. “Jimin, I mean. She’s our daughter.”