Lyra's footsteps echoed through the marble halls as she ran with all her strength, her voice trembling with panic. "My lord! My lord!" she cried out, bursting into the chamber where Duke Jacob sat with Butler Adam.
Startled, both men looked at her. Lyra fell to her knees, out of breath, but her words came out in a desperate rush.
"My lord… young master Roman… he—he has turned into a ghost! His body was floating above the bed, and two terrifying auras radiated from him—one pure gold, and the other the darkest black I have ever seen! I swear upon my life, it's true! Then suddenly… the aura vanished, and he collapsed back onto the bed!"
Duke Jacob raised an eyebrow, his face grim. "Are you drunk, girl? Or perhaps fevered? No man alive can possess two auras at once. It is an impossibility."
"I speak the truth, my lord!" Lyra insisted, her voice shaking but her eyes filled with conviction.
Adam, the butler, exchanged a wary glance with the Duke. After a moment's silence, Jacob stood. "Very well. Let us see this supposed miracle with our own eyes."
The three of them moved swiftly through the corridors toward Roman's chamber. When they entered, they found Roman lying calmly upon his bed. His breathing was steady, his expression composed—but his eyes burned with a strange light.
Inside Roman's mind, the system stirred.
> [Congratulations]
[The merging of your dual cores has succeeded. You now wield the most powerful magical core known to this world—a perfect balance of light and darkness.]
[But be warned… this strength alone will not suffice for the challenges ahead.]
And then, silence.
Roman opened his eyes and sat up slightly, his body still weak but recovering. As he adjusted to the changes inside him, the door creaked open. Duke Jacob entered, Adam at his side, with Lyra clinging to the Duke's back as if seeking protection from the very one she was meant to serve.
Jacob's gaze was sharp as he studied his son. "How are you now, Roman?"
Roman smirked faintly. "As you can see, Father… I am doing quite well. In fact, better than ever."
Jacob's expression hardened. "Hmph. I have witnessed many strange things today. Things that amuse me greatly… but they do not add up. I want to know—how did this transformation occur in my useless youngest son?"
The words stung, but Roman did not flinch. His voice was calm, even mocking. "I had plenty of free time, Father. After all, you never concerned yourself with me. So I spent those days alone, locked in this room, practicing. Experimenting. Creating a new kind of magical core. And now… I have accomplished exactly what I set out to do."
The room grew heavy with silence. Lyra's hands trembled behind the Duke, Adam's face remained stoic, but Jacob's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Finally, the Duke spoke, his voice like steel. "You are not the Roman I know. Who… are you?"
For a brief moment, Roman's heart skipped—but his face betrayed nothing. He leaned back on the bed, closing his eyes as if to dismiss the weight of the question.
"Perhaps it is you, Father, who does not know your own son. Now… leave. I wish to rest."
Jacob's lips pressed into a thin line. He turned away, his cloak sweeping behind him. At the door, he stopped. "Rest, then. But once you recover, come to my office. We have much to discuss."
"As you wish… Father," Roman replied with a calm, almost chilling tone.
The door closed. Roman exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. So, Father… you suspect me already?