"I'm sorry we took so much time. Getting clearance to open the gate is a tedious process, as you should know better than anyone," Jarync said, his voice carrying a mix of apology and subtle reprimand, the latter directed pointedly at his son, Edmond. His weathered face, lined with years of leadership and loss, betrayed a flicker of concern as he stood before the towering stronghold gates.

The massive reinforced doors of Stronghold 12 groaned open, their heavy steel panels grinding against ancient mechanisms with a low, resonant rumble that echoed across the barren, wind-swept plateau. The air was thick with the acrid scent of scorched earth, a lingering reminder of past battles against the frostmaw trolls. Only after meticulous scans confirmed no hidden trolls lurked nearby did the gates part fully, revealing the sanctuary's inner defenses—a labyrinth of turrets and mana-infused barriers glowing faintly under the dim, overcast sky.

Edmond bowed his head low, his gaze fixed on the cracked ground beneath his boots, unable to meet his father's piercing eyes. Shame and lingering fear from his encounter with Aaron churned within him, his pulse still racing from the near-death experience that had unfolded mere moments ago.

"And who might you be?" Jarync asked, turning his attention to Aaron, his voice steady but laced with suspicion as he scrutinized the enigmatic stranger and the obedient frostmaw troll standing beside him. Surrounding Jarync were heavily fortified squads of stronghold guards, their sleek mana blasters trained unwaveringly on Aaron and Garganth. The soldiers' armor gleamed faintly, etched with runes that pulsed with protective energy, their fingers hovering tensely over triggers, ready to unleash a barrage at the slightest provocation. The air crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of potential violence hanging like a storm cloud.

"I am Aaron Highborn, and I'm here to offer you salvation from your oppressors," Aaron replied, his voice calm and unshaken, his piercing gaze steady despite the array of deadly weapons aimed at him. His long white hair swayed gently in the dry breeze, and the pendant at his neck glinted, catching the faint light like a beacon of his unyielding confidence.

"Why are you with my son? And what do you want?" Jarync asked, his tone respectful yet guarded, a reflection of instincts honed by years navigating the treacherous circles of Astrid's powerhouses. He deliberately acted like he never heard Aaron's first words. Just those words alone was enough for Jarync to not carry the stranger in high esteem. But his gut screamed that Aaron was no ordinary man.He saw Aaron as Someone to be approached with utmost caution, a predator cloaked in human form whose presence seemed to warp the very air around him.

"I wish to have a peaceful conversation," Aaron responded smoothly, his words carrying an effortless authority that made the soldiers' grips tighten on their blasters. Jarync and his men harbored no trust for this stranger; logic dictated they should deny his request outright, turn him away from their sanctuary's walls. Yet an unshakable, bogging feeling rooted Jarync in place, a primal instinct warning against crossing this man. His son's uncharacteristic behavior only solidified this unease—Edmond, who had once stood fearless before Astrid's mightiest warrior, now seemed as docile as a tamed animal in Aaron's shadow, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and dread.

"Come with me," Jarync finally said after a tense pause, his decision made in the span of a few heartbeats. As the leader of Stronghold 12 for over a decade, his survival had hinged on trusting his gut, and now that instinct urged him to take the risk, despite the danger radiating from Aaron like heat from a smoldering ember.

"But sir, we haven't completed the—" a guard captain began, his voice sharp with protocol-driven concern, his hand gesturing toward the scanning devices still humming with activity.

"Enough. I'm not entertaining any opinions," Jarync snapped, his authoritative tone cutting through the objection like a blade, silencing the captain mid-sentence. His eyes never left Aaron, searching for any sign of deceit.

Aaron's lips curved into a faint, approving smile, pleased that the stronghold's leader wasn't foolish enough to challenge him outright. He strode toward the open gates with the audacity of someone who owned the very ground beneath his feet, his confident steps echoing softly on the stone path. His brazen demeanor grated on the nerves of several soldiers, their jaws tightening and eyes narrowing, fingers twitching closer to their triggers as they watched this outsider move with such entitlement.

"What about the troll?" one of the soldiers called out, his voice edged with distrust as all eyes—except Aaron's—turned to Garganth. The frostmaw troll stood unnaturally still, its massive frame hunched slightly, its glowing eyes dimmed in submission, a stark contrast to the savage ferocity its kind was known for.

"He's harmless and won't do anything foolish. No need to consider him a threat," Aaron said calmly, his voice unwavering as he continued his unhurried strides toward the stronghold's entrance, not sparing a glance at the troll or the soldiers' wary expressions.

"I'm sorry, but we can't allow a troll into our stronghold. It's too great a risk," Jarync said respectfully, his tone carefully measured to avoid offense, though his eyes betrayed the strain of maintaining diplomacy in the face of such an unprecedented situation. The wind howled softly, carrying the faint hum of the stronghold's mana barriers, amplifying the tension.

"Dad, you can trust him. The troll won't cause any harm," Edmond interjected urgently, his voice tinged with desperation as he stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists. He couldn't bear the thought of his father inadvertently provoking Aaron, whose terrifying abilities he had witnessed firsthand. Abilities that could reduce their entire sanctuary to rubble in an instant. The memory of time rewinding and trolls disintegrating haunted him, urging him to prevent any misstep.

Jarync studied his son's still-panicked face, the raw fear in Edmond's eyes speaking volumes about the stranger's power. With a resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping slightly as he acquiesced to Aaron's terms, trusting his son's judgment despite his own reservations.

"Sir, we can't possibly—" another soldier protested, his voice rising with alarm, only to be cut off.

"Any mishap will rest solely on my shoulders," Jarync declared firmly, waving off the soldiers' disapproval with a sharp gesture, his authority absolute. The guards exchanged uneasy glances but fell silent, their weapons still trained on the troll as the group proceeded into the stronghold.

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