Al walked out of the dining room like someone who had just escaped an interrogation chamber.
The moment his bedroom door shut behind him, he let out a quiet sigh and collapsed onto his soft bed.
"Finally, it was over…"
"Pointless family drama," he murmured, pulling the blanket over himself.
Sleep.
That was the one thing he looked forward to today.
The simplest, yet most meaningful thing.
But then—
GRUARRR... GRUARRRR...
His phone vibrated on the nightstand, accompanied by a custom ringtone: rumbling thunder—reserved only for specific people.
Al opened his eyes slowly. No irritation, just slight reluctance.
He reached for the phone, looked at the caller ID, and smiled.
He answered.
"Master," came a woman's voice from the other side. Soft. Firm. With a hint of playfulness hidden behind formal tones.
"I'm leaving for Indorosia tonight."
Al paused, then gave a small smile.
"All right," he replied briefly. "Safe flight."
Click.
The call ended.
But on the other side of the world, things were just beginning to move.
---
Elsewhere…
Uni-states of Ameria
A towering skyscraper stood proudly in the heart of Neo York's business district.
On its top floor, inside a sleek modern office with glass walls overlooking the skyline, a young woman stood with her back to the massive window.
Her long, glossy black hair cascaded down her back. Her figure—though wrapped in a formal black suit—couldn't hide the striking curves that far surpassed even Nayala's.
But that wasn't what stood out.
Not her body.
It was her aura.
Graceful. Commanding. Captivating. Yet... dangerous.
Her face was still partially shadowed by the evening light filtering in.
But a smile began to form—soft, and full of longing.
She stared at the now-dark phone, then turned her gaze to the dusky sky beyond the glass.
"Soon, we'll meet again, Master..." she whispered. "I've missed you."
She held her phone tighter, as if hugging something she deeply cherished.
On the holographic display beside her desk, a company logo floated clearly: ALASIA GROUP.
The screen then switched to a quarterly financial report. The company—partially private—showed growth charts surpassing Wapple and Lesla.
With a single flick of her finger, she closed the display.
"I'll bring gifts… and a few things Master likes. And after that… I want to hear all about your fiancée."
Her smile changed slightly—still gentle, but with a sharp edge.
Soft… but unmistakably piercing.
---
Back to Al…
He let out a quiet sigh and muttered under his breath,
"One by one, they return… The world will begin moving again."
And this time, he smiled.
But it wasn't the smile of an ordinary man.
It was the smile of a sleeping king—one who knew that his queen had begun to return to his side.
He then laid down on his small bed, planning to continue his morning nap while the air was still refreshingly cool.
With a small exhale, he closed his eyes.
Before long, he drifted into the first stage of NREM sleep.
His heartbeat and body temperature slowed, his brain activity dulled, and though a faint trace of awareness remained, his body felt completely relaxed.
Unfortunately, that peace and relaxation led him somewhere unexpected.
For a brief moment—just a flicker—his mind visualized two overlapping spaces: a vast white void, and another filled with shadows and blazing flames.
He jolted awake immediately.
"What was that?!" he muttered in alarm.
He rubbed his reddened eyes and wiped the sleep off his face, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't figure out what had just happened.
He exhaled deeply.
"I guess it was just a dream," he murmured. "But even if it was just for a second… why did it feel so real?"
"Because it was real." A voice suddenly echoed inside his mind—unfamiliar, coming from nowhere.
Al flinched hard and leapt backward.
"What's that?! Who are you?!" he shouted, instantly activating his detection skill and sharpening his magical sensitivity.
"Show yourself! Whoever you are—come out!"
His eyes glowed faintly red.
But nothing.
No presence. No fluctuation of energy. Nothing visible.
A tinge of unease welled up in his chest, forcing him to stand still and keep watch on his surroundings.
That vision—
That voice—
They weren't illusions. He didn't just see them; he felt them. It was as if something deep inside him was connected to that. Yet, he couldn't tell what it was.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Even half an hour.
Still, nothing.
His anxiety gradually faded, allowing his mind to clear.
"What's happening to my body…? First, my magic was neutralized. Then that strange feeling whenever I saw my parents in a bad state. And now this…?" he whispered.
Then something clicked in his mind. His eyes widened.
"Wait—don't tell me that was…"
He quickly pulled out an old, worn-out book from his dimensional storage. It wasn't large, but it radiated an air of secrecy—like it held answers meant to stay hidden.
He flipped through the pages, searching for a specific entry.
And when he finally found it—
"Just as I thought. I'm getting close to it," he muttered, relief and excitement mixing on his face.
The page was filled with strange symbols—not any human language—but beneath each line were handwritten notes, translations written by someone unknown.
At the top, the title read: 'Chapter of Imagery.'
He turned a few more pages until he reached a section called 'Imagery Realm.'
It described a phenomenon experienced by individuals who had achieved harmony between their soul and body.
Those who reached that state could enter an imaginative realm where their moral and instinctual selves would take form—forms they could perceive and interact with.
"So it's true… that must've been my Imagery Realm. Now that I'm this close to reaching the Grandmaster level, my soul and body synchronization must be nearly complete. Everything fits the description," he analyzed aloud.
"Now the only thing left is figuring out how to access it again."
He flipped further, but there was no mention of how to reenter the Imagery Realm.
"Huff… I've spent ages trying to reach this stage, and now that I finally experienced it, there's no guide on how to get back in. Seriously annoying," he grumbled.
"Still, this is good news. At least among us, I've already taken the first step. This will be a huge advantage for me—and my people."
He exhaled again and stored the book back into his dimensional storage.
Then, lying down once more, he murmured,
"Alright then… let's try getting back there."
With that thought, he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would take him to that realm again.
Unfortunately, his body simply slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep—without even a trace of success.
---
Heat.
That was the first thing Al felt when he woke up that early afternoon.
His plan to re-enter the Imagery Realm had ended with nothing but a deep, dreamless sleep—only to be woken up by the stifling heat.
No results, just sweat soaking his entire body.
Sunlight streamed through the small window, turning the room into something like a steam chamber.
It was the end of March.
Dry season had begun in Indorosia, and Eastern Indorosia was one of the hottest regions—hot enough to make any normal person curse every five minutes.
Unlike the luxurious rooms of the other Virellano family members in the main house, Al's room was in a small building outside.
No AC. Just a fan that barely stirred the hot air, much less effective than relying on natural wind that appeared on its own, uncontrollable.
Especially if he had to use his dimensional space. Just as air could flow in there, so could the heat—and naturally, it would feel even more suffocating.
"I think, I still need more time before I can enter that realm again," he murmured.
"For now, I'd better focus on dealing with this damn heat."
He then tried to cast a cooling spell, a fresh, cold breeze blowing from his hands onto his body. But not even a minute had passed before it faded on its own.
"Haah… That's it? I really am not that skilled with cooling-type magic. Guess I need to study it more in depth," he muttered.
"But… do I have to rely on magic for everything? Won't that ruin my humanity?"
He could only sigh.
"Besides, that kind of magic isn't really practical. The energy cost is too high, the effect too minimal, and it's hard to control. One wrong move and my heart and blood vessels could freeze."
In the end, Al adjusted his mindset to stop forcing every aspect of his life to be simplified by magical energy.
He felt that if everything could be solved by magic, he would forget what it meant to be human—far from his goal and mission to live as a normal human.
He got up and chose a more human approach. He removed his shirt and walked straight into the small outdoor bathroom.
---
After the shower…
His body felt refreshed, but the day was still scorching.
Al had just put on a white t-shirt and light pants when his phone rang. A standard ringtone. Unknown number.
He almost ignored it. But curiosity won.
"Yes?"
"Al! It's me, Rina. Vice captain of Dojo Palaka. Remember?"
"…Rina? Dojo Palaka… is that some kind of food?"
"Hey. Don't mock my dojo." Rina snapped angrily
"Eh. What can I say? I don't even understand what you're talking about." Al replied lazily.
"Ughh. Forget it! It's me—someone from your school, same grade, the one who helped you against Rudi's thugs back then. Don't pretend you forgot."
Al let out a slow sigh. The girl's voice was far too energetic for this scorching midday.
"Ah, it's you. I remember. What's up? By the way, how did you get my number?"
"What's so hard about getting your number? Student data is available in academics, right? Anyway… Can you help me today? We're preparing for School Festival. You're free today, aren't you? I'll wait at school," Rina explained.
"Ah… you got it from there. Didn't expect you to be more resourceful than my own family," Al said, referring to Edward, who couldn't get any info about him.
"Anyway. If it's about that, I'll pass… I'm too drained. Don't feel like moving. The sun's like a frying pan." he added.
"Don't be like that! This is important, Al! There aren't many boys handling this, you know—"
"Why me all of a sudden? I don't think we're close enough for you to ask for help."
"Hishh… exactly because we're not close, that's why I came to ask you. Later we can get to know each other better, okay?"
"Hmph... No, thanks." Al replied flatly.
"Al… If your excuse is the hot weather, the committee room is on the 3rd floor. We've got a big AC and a fridge full of cold drinks. You won't feel hot there."
But something felt odd in her mind.
"Wait… don't you have AC at home? Why you complaining about the weather?" She wondered why an elite kid would complain about the heat.
Rina thought someone from a wealthy family should have AC at home—yet Al was the one complaining about being hot right now.
Meanwhile, Al's lips curved slightly—a lazy, characteristic smile appearing.
"Yeah… there's AC… but not for me. And… did you say there are cold drinks?"
"Not for you? Hmph. Anyway, yup, there are plenty of cold drinks here… and cold watermelon," Rina added.
"Really?"
"Of course."
And somehow, the decision was made instantly.
"Okay. I'll come. What time?"
"Woah. Only willing to come when there's a reward, huh? After all those excuses—hot weather, not being close, and whatever. Hmph… fine, I'll wait as soon as possible," Rina grumbled.
"Huh? Who said we're not close? You must've misheard, Rina. We're super close, right? Hehe. Fine. I'll be there in 30 minutes." Al replied.
And with a bright grin, Al hung up, prepared, and set off.
Meanwhile, on the other end, Rina could only stare blankly, then soon laughed. Amused by the conversation.
"Hehe… what a guy," she muttered.
---
30 Minutes Later...
Al wore casual clothes, backpack slung over his shoulder.
His steps were lazy, but steady.
He took a taxi to school—he couldn't borrow the family car anyway.
When he arrived at Hazandeen International High School, the school wasn't too crowded, but the administration building was bustling with activity.
Several students could be seen walking around, some wearing loose casual clothes, others still looking stylish but modest.
They were busy making preparations, including large banners for the upcoming School Festival—a week-long competition of sports, arts, science, and technology—prominently displayed along the main pathway.
On the third floor, in a large room with a digital whiteboard and the school's emblem on the wall, Rina sat hugging a bottle of cold water.
When she saw Al enter, she immediately stood up.
"Finally, the most mysterious guy in our grade shows up."
Al grabbed a bottle from the fridge without saying a word.
He sat in a corner, leaned back, and calmly opened it.
"So… we're in the same grade?" he asked innocently, sipping the refreshing drink.
"Of course… we're in the same grade. Don't you know me?" Rina replied, thinking she was quite famous.
"Huff… and another narcissist who thinks the whole world knows her," Al teased, face fresh and calm.
"Hishh… you," Rina grumbled in annoyance.
"Okay, okay. Now I know you. So, what do you want me to do here? Let's get it done quickly."
"What's the rush?" Rina replied.
"We'd better finish it quickly, Rina. My cold watermelon is waiting," he said, pointing at the watermelon that somehow looked especially beautiful that day.
Rina was quite pleased with that response.
"Good. That's the spirit!" Rina said. "But I have to introduce you to the others first."
She turned around and eagerly introduced Al to the School Festival Organizing Team—mostly juniors and morning-class students who had barely, if ever, seen Al before.
Most looked at him with curious expressions.
Some nodded politely.
Others started whispering after hearing his full name.
Until one person who knew that name finally spoke up…
"Wait, isn't he that orphan… who got into Hazandeen with a scholarship from the Alasia Foundation?"
"Orphan?... Yet he acts so chill."
"So he's not from an elite family?"
"I didn't know this school even offered scholarships to non-elites."
"If Rudi never mentioned it, I probably wouldn't have known either."
"Rudi doesn't like non-elite kids, right?"
"Yup. There used to be some scholarship kids, but they all quit because of Rudi's interventions—somehow. Leaving only one student named Al. So this is him."
The whispers, audible enough to spread, gradually shifted toward unpleasant information.
But Al didn't really care. To him, they were just clueless kids, with no impact on his life.
Rina fell silent for a moment, slightly shocked.
So Al isn't elite… no wonder Rudi bothered him. And that means the incident back then had nothing to do with this boy? cause there's no way he could hire fighters that strong, she analyzed silently.
Huff… I even thought he had real connections to the Virellano family. Seems it was just a joke back then.
It was the first time she heard about Al's background from the school's social perspective. Hearing those unpleasant rumors made her a little uncomfortable and afraid that Al might be offended.
But when she glanced at him to see his reaction, what she found was…
Al's signature lazy smile.
"Sorry, kids… for shattering your wild assumptions and gossip." Al said flatly.
"But I'm a rich kid, probably richer than you, so end that conversation. I'm not some celebrity to gossip about to my face. Now, let's get this done,"
He responded to the whispers with a tone too serious to be a joke, but too odd to offend anyone.
Instead of taking him seriously, the whole room burst into laughter—some mocking, some confused.
Rina let out a short sigh, smiling wryly.
At least Al wasn't angry or losing his temper. Not to mention, the fact that they were technically elites—if Al got angry and challenged them, it would've been disastrous.
What a relief.
On some level, for some reason, she found Al attractive. Amusing in his own way. Honest, without any exaggerated expressions.
Soon, they seemed to grow bored with their antics. And following Rina's command, they began carrying out their tasks.
---
Though lazy at first, Al quickly showed his abilities once he started working.
With a single instruction, he reorganized the booth layout and decorations with high efficiency—far better than the original plan created over months of committee meetings.
Even Rina, holding command, seemed useless there.
For some reason, everyone appeared hypnotized by Al's ideas, designs, and work ethic. It was as if Al had become the one in charge, as though the young man was naturally accustomed to leading a group of humans efficiently.
He didn't just finish his own tasks quickly and accurately. He also helped other committee members who were struggling—lifting, organizing, even small tasks like cutting and pasting.
Several female student blushed shyly at Al's charisma.
And what they were working on was almost completed in just over two hours, leaving only minor touches that other committee members could handle.
Feeling relieved, Al sat down on the sofa and immediately targeted the refreshing watermelon with sharp eyes and decisive movements, like a predator stalking its prey.
Rina gawked.
"You… are you a genius or what?"
"Just normal. If I work fast, I can rest faster," Al replied, chewing casually.
Rina burst out laughing.
She couldn't deny it—Al made this hot afternoon feel a bit lighter.
But not everyone shared that feeling.
Jogo, a senior from the martial arts club and Rina's old friend, observed them with sharp eyes.
Rina's closeness to Al clearly made him uneasy.
Still, the day ended peacefully… for everyone, including Al—who finally got to enjoy cold watermelon, soda, and an air-conditioned room.
And while chewing a small slice of tart, Al's cheeks puffed out slightly.
His usually blank expression turned into something… innocent.
Even cute, according to some of the female committee members whispering among themselves:
"He's... kinda cute when he eats."
"Uwahhh, so adorable."
"Can I pinch his cheeks?"
Those who had scoffed at him earlier were now completely impressed. Both by the efficiency and quality of his work, and by the hidden charm beneath his otherwise ordinary appearance.
They just didn't know the horrors that lurked behind that innocent-looking face.
---
Evening approached…
Al was walking with Rina. The two of them boarded a small city bus that passed through a quiet upscale district on the city's outskirts. After getting off, Al walked slowly, with Rina following behind.
"Still coming along? Don't tell me you're planning to crash at my place." Al asked, glancing at Rina beside him.
"Ishhh… I just want to make sure you get home safely. Don't want any more thugs bothering you. Consider it also a way to get to know you better. We're friends, right? Hehe." Rina replied.
"Hmph… Don't worry about that. No one's walking away unharmed if they mess with me." Al said casually.
"Your attitude, Al…" Rina retorted, slightly annoyed at what she considered his arrogant joking.
"Oh, by the way, speaking of thugs… do you know what happened to the thugs Rudi sent the last time they bothered you?"
"Them... hmph? I vaguely remember. What about them?" Al asked, confused.
Rina paused for a moment.
Should I even tell him? Would he even get it? she thought.
Finally, she shook her head.
"Hmm… Nah. Forget it. Hehe," she said awkwardly.
"What the… That's weird," Al replied.
Rina just chuckled quietly as they finally arrived at the Virellano family estate—a vast expanse dominated by the wealthiest family in East Indorosia, a lineage shrouded in mystery, known only by its last three generations.
"Don't tell me… you live here?" Rina asked, a little puzzled as she looked at the grand gates labeled Virellano Estate. She couldn't understand why Al had brought her here.
Al just nodded and kept walking with a blank expression.
"Yup." He said briefly.
Rina was still confused, thinking he might be joking.
"Wait… This is really your home? The one you mentioned earlier… 'rich kid'… The one where you said your name is Al Virellano?"
Only now did Rina start realizing that maybe Al had never been joking before.
"Believe it or not, that's your business, hehe," Al replied nonchalantly. "By the way, thanks for forcing me to be followed all the way here by you."
Rina was still puzzled, when suddenly a voice came from the front gate.
A girl with tied-up hair, wearing sporty clothes that made it clear she had just finished exercising, was standing there, holding a small towel she had been using to wipe her sweat.
Vianna Virellano. Al's third eldest sister. And… Rina's longtime rival in the martial arts world.
"Oh wow. Rina, the weak girl from Palaka Dojo," Vianna said with a mocking tone.
Rina's daydreaming abruptly stopped, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face as she spotted one of her long-time adversaries.
"Vianna?! You?" she snapped, irritated by Vianna's ever-present teasing.
"What are you doing at my house? Don't tell me you're spying on my training," Vianna asked arrogantly.
She then shot a sharp glance at Al before smirking slyly at Rina.
"Oh… you're walking with him? I totally forgot you both go to the same school. And honestly, I'm even more surprised that you actually know each other," she said.
Then she leaned closer, whispering, "But… a little advice, Rina — be careful. He's… a real womanizer."
Rina stepped back, visibly irritated.
"What do you mean, Vianna? Why are you suddenly talking like that? Do you even know Al?"
Vianna covered her mouth with one hand, amused by the question.
"Know him?" she said, glancing at Al. "You're still too young to understand that far. Haha." She turned back to Rina, taunting.
Rina ground her teeth, visibly vexed. She was about to retort when Al intervened.
"Oii. Oii. Stop it. No need to fight over me. It's getting late anyway—scatter. Scatter." Al said casually.
"Who's even fighting over you?" Rina snapped.
"Hishhh…" Vianna hissed, slightly annoyed.
"Ah… relax, relax. If you're really not fighting over me," Al said lazily, waving his hand a little.
"Then, carry on with your… bonding. You two seem close, by the way. Best I don't interfere. Once again, thanks, Rin." He then walked away at a leisurely pace.
Rina and Vianna were left staring in frustration at his indifferent attitude.
But only two steps later, Al stopped and turned slightly.
"And also… I can understand if that rumor spread inside this house. But you better not spread it outside, Sist… uh… hmm… I mean, Vianna. Or Miss Vianna?" Then he turned and walked off.
Huff… complicated. But I already promised not to publicize my family status for a year. And that's if I manage to integrate.
Hmm… it's going to be tricky to mention them without the 'sister' tag from now on, he thought, referring to his one-year wager.
Vianna just snorted lightly, unconcerned.
Meanwhile, Rina was slightly confused.
Did he just call Vianna 'sister'? Or did I mishear? But he did say Miss, she wondered.
If Al really has connections to the Virellano family, maybe he's the one who hired strong fighters back then, especially with Vianna's connections. Woahh. This is really making me curious.
She looked at Vianna again.
"Vianna, I don't want any trouble with you. But let me ask you one thing." Rina said, trying to calm her own tension.
Vianna blinked in slight surprise.
"Relax. I don't see you as a threat at all. Don't tell me because we tied last time, you think you have the right to deal with me. Hehe. Anyway, ask away. It's not like you're usually this polite to me."
"Tchh. I'm polite because I respect you as my senior in martial arts, and we're in your territory." Rina said, slightly annoyed but holding back out of curiosity. "And… what's your connection to Al, or what's Al's connection to your family?"
"Hmph? Our connection? You want to know that? What's the point?" Vianna asked, slightly confused.
Rina just nodded seriously, enough to make Vianna realize the question mattered to her.
Vianna thought for a moment.
That kid? There's no way I'd call him a family member here. I don't even feel ready to admit it. But whatever, why should I answer this woman? she thought.
Then, with little seriousness, she replied:
"Him? You should ask him instead of me. But if I have to answer… hmph… just think of him as a servant's kid in this house. Haha."
Rina got a slight realization. Although Vianna wasn't answering seriously, she didn't notice and took it seriously.
Al, who had walked far ahead, suddenly stopped upon hearing that. His auditory sensitivity let him catch their words. His body reacted instantly, something even he didn't understand.
His body trembled momentarily — not strongly, but enough to signal an emotional stir.
What's happening to me?
She called me a servant's kid… so why is my body reacting like this? he thought, confused.
Until something seemed to seize his mind.
"That means… she called your father and mother mere servants. You and your parents — lowly people! They can be insulted like that, even by their own child. Lowly humans. Haha."
The voice churned violently inside his head, spreading a burning sense of humiliation unlike anything he had ever felt before.
It was that voice again — something that felt connected to his imagery realm.
But this time, it was as if he was being pulled into it, dragged by the whispers themselves. The words let his darker instincts slip free.
That line — something that should never have come from a Virellano child. Because Al's parents were technically the birth parents of all the Virellano children.
His expression didn't change. But inside, something shifted.
A strange, unfamiliar emotion surged through his chest.
'Servant.'
That word stabbed deep. He didn't know why, but a powerful anger flared within him.
"You're right. So… my parents are thought of like that? By their own blood?" Al's voice came out as a faint murmur — quiet, but sharp enough to cut through the air.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed.
The air around them turned heavy.
Like the pressure in the air had dropped several degrees.
Killing intent.
Thick. Deep. Terrifying.
Vianna and Rina—both trained martial artists—immediately sensed the oppressive aura.
Their bodies instinctively tensed.
But neither of them knew where the aura was coming from.
All they knew was that it was overwhelming.
Rina's breath caught.
Vianna was momentarily speechless.
They both glanced around… not realizing the source of the pressure was Al.
Then, just as suddenly, the aura disappeared.
Al only now noticed his fist was clenched tight.
He took a deep breath… and returned to his usual lazy expression.
"Huff… that was close." he murmured softly, just as a small chip slipped from behind his ear. The device was damaged — it had only just managed to hold back the surge of Al's emotions.
He turned and stared at the two women from afar. Both of them looked noticeably pale. He made no move to respond or interact — he feared the surge might come back.
Still, the disbelief that Vianna had called him a servant's child lingered in his chest.
Vianna remained standing where she was. Her body felt cold. Her eyes trembled.
That just now… what—what could emit such a terrifying aura? she wondered.
She watched Al's back as he slowly disappeared through the estate gates. She then glanced at Rina and realized Rina must have felt it too, but chose not to bring it up.
"Huff… whatever. If you're going to stay the night here, don't forget to ask the security guard first. I'm off." Vianna said, leaving Rina behind.
"Tchhh… who would want that. I—I'm going home first!" Rina stammered nervously, then turned and hurried away from the lavish estate.
---
Inside a taxi…
Rina sat in the back seat, her face pale. Her breaths were shallow. Cold sweat dripped down her temples.
Her hand trembled as she held her phone.
But not out of fear—
Out of tension.
"That aura…" she whispered.
It had been two weeks since she first felt something like that—in a narrow alley that caused various martial arts groups in Makazhar to gather.
No one knew what it was back then.
But the aura she just felt—right in front of the Virellano estate—
Was exactly the same.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't tell me… Al?"
She quickly shook her head.
"No way… He doesn't even have internal energy. No basic energy control. No aura. No background."
She turned her eyes back to the window. The sky was darkening. The last rays of the sun swallowed by thin clouds.
But that feeling in her chest…
Hadn't gone away.
---
Meanwhile…
A few hours passed after Al showered and relaxed.
In the small building he usually occupied, Al sat propped against his narrow bed. His body felt cold even though the air was still warm.
He wasn't paying attention to the phone screen in front of him.
His mind kept replaying the scene earlier—Vianna's words calling their parents servants.
His hand clenched again.
Why did I react like that?
He tried to think logically.
I don't even feel that close to them yet…
So why did my emotions explode like that?
Was it… the effect of Blood Energy? A bond of blood?
He replayed what had just happened in his mind.
And I think… I heard that strange voice again.
It was luring out my darker side. Could it be that my imagery realm reacts whenever my emotions reach their peak?
Or maybe… I just misheard it.
The questions danced through his head. But he pushed them aside.
"Arrrggghh… too tired to think," he muttered, reaching for his phone.
Just as he opened his entertainment app, a soft knock came at the door.
Knock. Knock.
With reluctance, he got up and opened it.
Standing at the door… was Nayala.
Night had fully fallen.
But there she stood, calm and casual in a thin house dress, long hair down, and the strong but elegant scent of perfume lingering around her.
Her eyes studied Al with curiosity. Her lips curved into a flirtatious smile.
"So this is… the room of the man who was supposed to be my official fiancé?" she said, gazing into his modest room.
"What do you want?" Al asked calmly.
"I'm just curious… about you. Aren't you even a little bit interested in me?"
Al said nothing, giving her a blank stare.
Weird woman, he thought.
"Don't you want to at least try approaching me? Who knows—I might change my mind if you… impress me," she teased, deliberately leaning in, her tone and body language laced with sensual invitation.
Al continued staring at her.
What's with this girl? Is this some elite children's game? Is it connected to David again? he muttered inwardly.
After not being able to bother me for so long, is he trying again? Or… is this woman actually interested in me? Ah—whatever. Whatever it is… better I don't get involved.
Silent.
Then he gave a short bow.
"Sorry. I'm not interested in scandals. I'm a good, rule-abiding rich boy."
Without changing his tone, Al slowly closed the door.
The sound of the click was crystal clear.
Like a clean, decisive end.
Nayala stood frozen, stunned by the silent rejection.
"Did he just… slam the door in my face?" she muttered in disbelief.
Her hand clenched into a fist, ready to pound on the door—
but she stopped herself.
She couldn't cause a scene. Not now.
With a frustrated stomp, she turned around, gritting her teeth.
"Arghhh!"
---
Back at the main house...
Nayala stormed down the marble hallway, her steps fast and furious. Her face was twisted with disappointment and frustration.
In the family lounge, David was seated casually with one of his personal bodyguards.
Nayala marched right up to him.
"He didn't even… show any interest in me! Not at all! He… closed the door on me!"
David gave a small smile.
"So irritating," Nayala grumbled.
David didn't look upset.
Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, then spoke to his guard.
"Continue to monitor Al's room perimeter."
"But sir, he didn't do anything to—"
"Exactly. The fact that he rejected Nayala is something I can flip. There were no other witnesses except our guards. We can say… Al forced her into his room."
The guard paused for a moment but nodded slowly.
"Understood, Young Master."
David gave a small, sly grin.
"It's been quiet here for too long. The longer he stays, the more unstable my position becomes. So whatever it is, I'll remove that kid."
"How are you going to do that?" Nayala asked innocently.
David smiled, looking at Nayala.
"Even if he doesn't play dirty... I can make sure his name gets dirty anyway."
David then turned on his phone and dialed a number, reaching out to someone.
A certain individual who, judging from his expression and tone, seemed to be the key figure capable of smoothing out every single one of his dirty schemes for the night.
---
Back in Al's room.
After Nayala's departure, Al once again reflected on everything that had occurred so far. He realized that his strength was not entirely stable; fluctuations kept appearing,
"Is it the psychological pressure here that's making my power unstable at times? Hmph… figures. The people around here really know how to mess with my emotions. I need to keep it under control." he muttered, analyzing the situation.
He then assumed a cross-legged sitting position atop his bed. His eyes slowly closed, while both hands were pressed together, fingers interlacing with each other.
His breathing grew steady and rhythmic, while his lips began to move faintly, whispering inaudible syllables that resembled an ancient mantra.
Cultivation Technique: Diarasil Breathing Art
At that very moment, Al was engaging in cultivation as well as contemplation.
It was not merely a technique of energy absorption meant to heighten his magical power, but also a method designed to calm his mind, to open the gates of his awareness, and to regulate his soul.
A practice that demanded precision, carried out in this very posture—sitting cross-legged with hands joined, maintaining a breathing pattern of seven seconds inhalation and seven seconds exhalation, with each cycle synchronized to a single line of mantra being recited.
This method had always been a disciplined form of training, not only for him but also for his group.
And then—
SWOSHHH!
Faint streams of energy began to manifest in the air around him, swirling in various colors and forms. Some surged like rolling waves, others fragmented into scattered motes of light, and several even flickered with unstable brilliance.
Al's body soon became enveloped by a thin veil of energy, a radiant mixture of crimson-golden light interwoven with threads of pitch-black darkness.
The contrasting hues shimmered and clashed, yet coexisted, as though his very body was striving to embody the duality of light and shadow within a single vessel.
Normally, not every type of energy would harmonize with a user's body. Cultivators would only absorb energies that resonated with the natural construction of their body and soul, syncing through colors or forms that matched their innate alignment.
But Al's body was different—remarkably different. For reasons unknown, the energy cloaking his form extended outward and made contact with the surrounding currents of power.
The moment they touched, those foreign energies seemed irresistibly pulled, slowly converging and being drawn into Al's body.
A sharp, stinging sensation rippled through his entire being as that torrent of energy entered. His muscles tensed, his face winced with pain, yet he endured it.
Bit by bit, the chaotic surge transformed into something gentler, warmer, and ultimately more harmonious with his system.
An hour passed—by cultivation standards, not a long session at all.
Al finally opened his eyes. For most people, stabilizing such erratic energy might take days, yet that single hour was sufficient for him and his group who constantly struggled with unstable forces.
Dark, tar-like liquid seeped from his pores, releasing an unbearable stench.
This phenomenon was none other than the manifestation of residual energy and impurities—filth of the body and the soul—that had been forced out after the essence was successfully absorbed into Al.
He carefully examined himself, stretching his limbs, testing the firmness of his muscles. The improvement felt palpable, almost reassuring.
"I still can't believe the magical density within this residence is this rich. It can even rival Ataris." He said.
"I suppose that's the reason why these elite districts are capable of producing so many talented individuals, whether they possess innate magical abilities or not," he murmured casually, clearly pleased with the enhancement of his strength.
"And now, my stable energy has reached the early stage of Grandmaster level across all three energies," he continued.
"This is more than satisfactory for merely a month of cultivation here. I wonder just how far my stable energy could grow if I were to settle down in this place permanently."
"And maybe… I can finally find a way to enter my imagery realm — the realm I can use to control my dark side."
Al felt genuine satisfaction at the advancement of his rank. His current level was Grandmaster.
Within this world, magical power was classified based on the depth and quantity of one's energy.
As had been explained earlier, the progression of stages began from Novice, followed by Adept, Practitioner, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, Sovereign, Archon, Origin, and finally reaching the highest pinnacle—Mythical.
He was just about to rest after that brief cultivation session, yet a sudden knock on the door shattered his plan.
A sense of foreboding welled up in his chest, as if the night itself refused to grant him peace, no matter how much effort he had put into calming his spirit.
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