The stone corridor of Stonefall Keep was cool against the soles of Kaelen's bare feet. He walked with a deliberate slowness that felt alien to his ten-year-old body, every step a conscious effort to keep the raging storm of his adult mind from showing on his childish face.
To his right hung the ancestral tapestries of House Valerius. He had ignored them for years in his first life, but now, his eyes traced the faded silver threads with a historian's focus. He saw the depiction of his great-grandfather, a renowned Warlock, calling down a storm upon a horde of Beastkin. He saw his grandmother, a Master-rank cultivator, standing alone against a rival house's champion. These were the legends he was meant to inherit, the legacy he had squandered. A bitter taste filled his mouth.
He knew what awaited him in the study. His father, Baron Theron Valerius, a man whose love was as immense as his disappointment. And likely, his uncle, Marius, the serpent lurking in their home.
His first objective, the System silently prompted in his mind, was simple: [Sub-Quest: Deceive and Observe]. He couldn't reveal his knowledge. He couldn't show his hatred. He had to be the Kaelen they remembered: a quiet, slightly disappointing boy, perhaps a little more focused after a bad dream. He had to gather information. Was his father's health already declining? How deep were Marius's claws in the barony's affairs?
He reached the heavy oak door of the study. He could hear the low murmur of voices from within. Taking a final, steadying breath, he knocked twice, his small knuckles rapping against the wood.
"Enter," a deep, familiar voice called out. It was his father's.
Kaelen pushed the door open and stepped inside. The study was just as he remembered: smelling of old parchment, woodsmoke, and steel. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a large map of the Valorian League was spread across a grand table.
His father sat behind a large desk, his frame still broad and powerful, but Kaelen's experienced eyes saw the faint, almost imperceptible weariness in his posture, the slight paleness of his skin. The poison was already at work, a slow, patient thief.
Standing beside the desk, a warm smile on his handsome face, was Marius.
"Ah, Kaelen. There you are," his uncle said, his voice smooth as honey. To a child, it was the sound of kindness. To Kaelen, it was the hiss of a snake. "Your father and I were just discussing your future."
Kaelen kept his eyes downcast, feigning the shyness they expected of him. "Father. Uncle," he mumbled, giving a small, clumsy bow.
Baron Theron offered a tired but genuine smile. "Come, son. Today marks a turning point. You are ten years old now. Your days of playing are over. It is time you began to truly walk the path of a Valerius."
Marius stepped forward, placing a hand on Kaelen's shoulder. The touch felt like a brand of ice. "Your father is right," Marius said conspiratorially. "We must discover where your true talents lie. Your mana affinity is present, but weak. Your qi circulation is sluggish. But do not worry," he squeezed Kaelen's shoulder, a gesture that was meant to be reassuring but felt like a threat, "I will personally oversee your training. We will forge you into a warrior worthy of our name, one way or another."
In his past life, Kaelen had felt a surge of gratitude at those words. Now, he understood the hidden meaning. Marius would "forge" him in a way that would ensure he remained mediocre, a puppet to be controlled.
Kaelen looked up, meeting his father's eyes. He had to show something. A spark. Just enough to plant a seed of hope.
"I understand, Father," he said, his voice quiet but clear, with a firmness that was entirely new. "I won't disappoint you. I am ready to work."
For a fleeting moment, a flicker of surprise crossed both his father's and his uncle's faces. The Baron's weary expression softened with a hint of pride. Marius's smile tightened just a fraction, the first, tiny crack in his perfect facade.
It was a small victory, but it was a start. The war had begun.