The doors creaked open.
Draven strolled into the training room, yawning lazily. His expression was a mixture of boredom and sleepiness, as though he would rather be anywhere else.
Lyriana followed quietly behind him, her eyes moving across the room as she sensed the tension in the air.
Across the training room stood Draven's father, his arms folded and his gaze sharp as steel.
Aldric stood off to the side, his expression neutral. Strangely enough, however, he looked completely untouched.
Draven's father glanced toward the doorway.
"Took you long enough, brat."
Draven blinked a few times, still half-asleep. He glanced between his father and Aldric, raising an eyebrow as he took in the situation.
*Weren't they just sparring?*
His gaze settled on Aldric.
*But that bastard looks perfectly fine. No bloodstains, no scratches. Not even a speck of dust on him.*
Aldric shifted slightly, remaining silent.
His expression barely changed, but inwardly, he was struggling to accept what had just happened.
*Am I really that weak? I didn't even get close to landing a hit… and he looked like he was barely trying.*
Draven's father casually stretched his neck, producing a small crack before looking back at his son.
"I was starting to get bored sparring with your friend here."
Draven scoffed.
"Friend?"
*Who the hell said that dude was my friend?*
His father ignored his reaction and continued with a smirk.
"Well then, how about you step up? Spar with your old man."
Draven stared at him, completely unimpressed.
*Hell no. That damn old man just wants another excuse to break my bones.*
"Yeah… I'll pass."
His father seemed unsurprised by the answer. In fact, his smirk only widened.
"Knew you'd say that."
He unfolded his arms and tilted his head slightly.
"Fine. How about we make a deal? If you spar with me, I'll tell you some very interesting news. Trust me, it's something you'll want to hear."
Draven looked at him with a blank expression.
"I'm still not interested."
Without another word, he turned around and began walking toward the exit.
*What kind of 'news' is he even talking about? Hmph. Whatever. I'm starving anyway. Might as well get something to eat.*
But just as he approached the door—
**WHOOSH!**
A sudden gust of wind swept through the room.
Before anyone could react, Draven's father vanished from where he stood and reappeared beside his son.
His fist was already in motion.
A grin spread across his face.
"Don't just leave, brat. Why don't you stay… and play with your old man?"
Draven's eyes snapped wide.
He barely had enough time to raise both arms in front of himself.
Then—
**BOOOOOOM!**
The punch landed with the force of a cannon blast.
Draven's body was launched across the training room.
The impact sent him flying through the air, and the surrounding walls trembled from the sheer force of the blow.
His arms shattered on impact.
Several of his ribs cracked as well.
But before his body could even hit the ground, something extraordinary happened.
His flesh began knitting itself back together. Broken bones shifted into place, and the fractures rapidly disappeared as his regeneration took effect.
By the time he reached the other side of the room, his arms had already recovered.
Draven twisted his body in mid-air, flipped once, and landed on his feet.
He dropped into a crouch, his breathing slightly heavier than before.
But his body was already whole again.
He slowly raised his head, glaring at his father.
"What the hell, old man…?"
His voice was low and irritated.
Then he suddenly shouted.
"Who the heck plays with their kids by breaking their bones?!"
His father watched him calmly.
However, a faint flicker of surprise passed through his eyes.
*He blocked it… Not bad.*
His gaze lingered on Draven for another moment.
*The brat's stronger than I thought.*