Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 393: The Hint of War

Chapter 393: The Hint of War

Lyan blinked awake as the early morning light streamed through the windows of his grand bedroom. The rays fell upon the oversized bed that had grown larger over the days to accommodate his ever-increasing family of women.

He could hardly remember the last time it was just a modest, normal-sized bed. Now, it was a grand sleeping arrangement that could comfortably fit twenty people, and even then, it sometimes felt just about right. Lyan chuckled to himself, careful not to disturb the sleeping forms that lay nestled all around him.

The peaceful expression on each of their faces made Lyan’s heart swell with warmth. Last night’s "activities" had been more than a little intense, and now, the entire room was enveloped in a cozy atmosphere. He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from face to face—Surena, Belle, Wilhelmina, Althea, and the others, all lying sprawled, limbs entangled, their chests rising and falling in the gentle rhythm of sleep.

(You certainly enjoyed yourself last night, Master.)

Cynthia’s voice chimed inside his head, her teasing tone unmistakable.

(Indeed, such indulgence is befitting a man of your status. But honestly, your appetite is ridiculous.)

Hestia’s haughty tone echoed, but there was amusement there too.

Lyan tried to hide the grin that threatened to stretch across his face. He slowly maneuvered his way out of the bed, careful not to wake anyone. The room was vast, much like everything else in this castle, which had been modified to suit the new occupants. He grabbed a loose robe, wrapped it around himself, and made his way towards the large balcony, opening the doors gently.

The fresh morning breeze greeted him as he stepped outside. Grafen was laid out before him, bathed in the golden hue of dawn. The city had changed so much since he’d first arrived. What was once a neglected territory was now thriving. The streets were bustling even at this early hour, and from up here, Lyan could already hear the faint sounds of merchants setting up their stalls, people greeting one another, and children running through the narrow alleys.

(It’s peaceful, isn’t it~?)

Azelia’s gentle voice filled his mind, and Lyan found himself nodding in agreement.

(For now.)

Griselda interjected, her voice carrying a hint of caution.

(But peace is often a fleeting thing. Always be prepared, Lyan. I have a bad feelings for today)

(Well, for your case it’s just because of the drama about prophecy thingy and werewolf you watched on the room, right?) (Hestia)

(W-Wha!?) (Griselda)

Lyan sighed ignoring them, leaning against the railing as he looked out over Grafen. The tranquility of the scene made it easy to forget about the dangers lurking beyond the horizon—the looming threats, the politics, the inevitable challenges that would come. But that was a concern for later. Right now, he allowed himself to enjoy the sight of what he had built.

After a few moments, Lyan decided it was time to start his day. He closed the balcony doors quietly and made his way out of the bedroom, leaving the others to rest. As he walked through the hallways, he nodded at the castle staff he passed by—each one bowing and offering respectful greetings.

"Good morning, my lord," one of the maids said, carrying a basket of freshly laundered linens.

"Morning," Lyan replied with a smile.

"Busy already, I see?"

The maid returned his smile, nodding.

"Always, my lord. The castle never really sleeps, does it?"

Lyan chuckled.

"No, I suppose it doesn’t."

He continued walking, pausing now and then to chat with a few of the guards or exchange pleasantries with the kitchen staff who were already hard at work preparing breakfast. He liked this—being involved in the daily activities of the castle, seeing the people who made it all run smoothly. It grounded him, reminded him of what they were building together.

Eventually, Lyan found himself in the courtyard. He looked up at the clear sky, the morning sun warming his skin, and he suddenly felt an itch—a desire to fly. He grinned, turning on his heel and making his way to the stables where his beloved griffin, Griffia, resided.

Griffia was a child of Surena’s—one of the many magical creatures that had become part of his strange, extended family. The griffin was already awake, its sharp eyes watching as Lyan approached.

"Morning, girl," Lyan greeted, running his hand along Griffia’s beak. The griffin let out a low rumble, nudging Lyan affectionately.

"Feel like going for a ride?" Lyan asked, already knowing the answer. Griffia’s wings flared out in response, her excitement palpable.

Lyan quickly strapped on the saddle, securing everything before climbing on. With a powerful leap, Griffia took off, her wings beating against the air, lifting them higher and higher. The wind rushed through Lyan’s hair as they soared over Grafen, the city sprawling out beneath them like a living, breathing entity.

From up here, he could see everything—the marketplace coming to life, the townspeople moving about, the carts rolling in through the gates. It was a sight that filled him with pride. Grafen had come so far, and Lyan knew that it was thanks to the hard work of everyone here. He guided Griffia in a wide circle, taking in the view.

(You’re not planning to visit the other cities today, are you?)

Arturia’s voice was laced with concern.

(It might be too much, especially since you’ve promised the girls to have breakfast together.)

Lyan chuckled.

(I know, I know. I’m just taking a quick look around. I wouldn’t dare make them wait after last night.)

(You’re learning.) (Eira)

Lyan grinned, urging Griffia to head back towards the castle. He could see the castle’s grand structure growing larger as they approached. It truly was a magnificent sight, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the life he was living. It was different, so vastly different from the life he once had.

As Griffia landed gracefully in the castle courtyard, the griffin let out an excited cry, her wings folding neatly at her sides. Lyan dismounted, giving Griffia a pat of appreciation.

"Thank you, girl. You’re always the best," Lyan said, and Griffia nuzzled him in response, her eyes glinting with affection.

"Well, someone’s been busy this morning," a familiar voice called out, and Lyan turned to see Surena approaching. She was dressed in a loose gown, her hair still slightly disheveled from sleep.

"Morning, Surena," Lyan greeted with a smile. "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

Surena shook her head, her eyes twinkling.

"No, but Griffia did. She’s been so excited—she wouldn’t let me sleep."

Lyan laughed, ruffling the feathers on Griffia’s head.

"Well, she loves her morning flights. Can’t blame her."

Surena approached Griffia, petting her gently.

"Yes, I suppose she takes after her father," she said, giving Lyan a knowing look.

Before Lyan could respond, the mood shifted as a group of castle guards approached, a stranger in tow. The man was dressed in royal livery, his expression weary but urgent. He looked as though he’d ridden a long distance without rest.

"My lord," one of the guards called out, "this messenger has arrived from the royal castle. He says it’s urgent."

The messenger stepped forward, bowing deeply.

"Lord Lyan, I bring a message from the crown prince," he began, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "A grand banquet has been declared, and all lords are required to attend. There is also talk of restructuring the military."

Lyan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mind already working through the implications. A banquet, a restructuring—it could only mean one thing. The crown prince was preparing for something, and Lyan had a strong suspicion about what that might be.

"A banquet, you say?" Lyan asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a sharper glint.

The messenger nodded.

"Yes, my lord. The crown prince insists on your presence. He has already begun preparations for the restructuring of the military forces. The atmosphere in the capital is tense—many believe it is a sign of... forthcoming conflict."

Lyan studied the man for a moment before nodding.

"Thank you. You’ve done well to bring me this message. Please, take some time to rest. The castle staff will see to your needs."

The messenger bowed again, visibly relieved.

"Thank you, my lord."

As the guards led the messenger away, Lyan stood still, his expression thoughtful. He could feel Surena’s eyes on him, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Lyan? What is it?" she asked softly, stepping closer to him.

Lyan took a deep breath, his gaze distant for a moment before he looked at Surena.

"The crown prince is planning something," he said, his voice quiet. "A banquet, military restructuring... it all points to one thing."

Surena’s eyes widened slightly.

"War?"

Lyan nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"It’s a strong possibility. The crown prince wouldn’t be calling all the lords together unless he had a very good reason. And restructuring the military at a time like this..." He trailed off, his mind racing with possibilities.

(So, it begins.)

Arturia’s voice was steady, though there was an edge to it.

(We knew this day would come eventually.) (Arturia)

(And you should be ready for it,) (Griselda)

Griselda added, her tone filled with determination.

Lyan sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment. He could feel the weight of the message settling on his shoulders. This wasn’t something he could ignore, nor was it something he could take lightly. There were too many lives at stake—too many people who depended on him.

He exchanged a glance with Surena, who was watching him with a mixture of concern and resolve. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Whatever comes, we’ll face it together," she said, her voice firm.

Lyan smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at her words. He placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yes. Together."

He turned, his gaze shifting back towards the castle. He could already feel his mind beginning to strategize, to plan for the possible outcomes of the crown prince’s summons. There were preparations to be made, people to speak with, contingencies to put in place. This was just the beginning, and Lyan knew it.

"I guess it’s finally time, huh," he murmured, his tone holding both determination and curiosity. The path ahead was uncertain, but Lyan wasn’t one to shy away from challenges—especially not when the safety of his people was on the line.

With a deep breath, he turned towards the castle, his steps purposeful as he began to make his way inside. There was much to do, and he would see to it that Grafen was ready—no matter what the future held.