John Wyndham stormed out of the throne room and into the hallway beyond. The corridor was wide and polished, walls lined with gold trim and old banners that told stories of past victories. None of it slowed him down.
Lucius followed right behind him.
Then came Jake.
Then Jimmy.
The sound of boots echoed once… twice… before John stopped hard and turned.
"What are you thinking?" John snapped. His voice was rough, stripped of patience.
He stepped closer, eyes burning.
"First, you bring the boy into the clan. Then you turn him into a Paragon warrior. And now?" His hand cut through the air. "Now you want to throw him into a prestigious tournament like the Paragon Battle Royal."
John's jaw tightened.
"Have you understood anything I've been saying so far?"
Lucius didn't flinch.
He met John's stare head-on, calm and unmoving, like stone.
"I have my ways of doing things," Lucius said evenly. "I have a goal to achieve. And if that goal is reached, you benefit from it greatly."
John scoffed, but Lucius didn't stop.
"I won't let any of you ruin this for me," he said. Then his eyes sharpened. "Not even you, John. And I certainly won't stop just because you're afraid of a little boy."
Jake shifted uneasily. Jimmy's expression darkened.
Lucius took another step forward.
"None of you understand what it means to be a Paragon warrior," he said. His voice rose slightly, sharp with frustration. "You sit here, scared to act, scared to move… all because of a boy."
A pulse of aura leaked from him, subtle but heavy. The air itself felt tighter.
Lucius paused.
He inhaled slowly.
Then exhaled.
The pressure eased, but his eyes stayed cold.
"If you think I care even a little about that boy," Lucius said flatly, "then you're wrong."
"I have a goal to accomplish," Lucius said. His voice was steady, almost cold. "And I will do anything to reach that goal. Even if it means turning your bastard grandson into a warrior."
John's eyes narrowed.
His jaw tightened.
His fist clenched so hard the joints went white.
Jake broke the silence.
"Let's assume we go with your plan," he said, tone sharp but controlled. "Alex is nothing more than a stage one warrior. He's barely learned what it even means to be a warrior."
Lucius didn't argue right away.
"The boy is talented. That much is obvious," he said calmly. "He might surprise you with what he can do in a short time."
He tilted his head slightly.
"And if you doubt me," Lucius added, "you can test it yourself."
Jake frowned but stayed quiet.
"Besides," Lucius continued, "there are still about two months before the tournament starts. That's time. Real time. Enough for him to learn more."
A scoffing sound came from the side.
Jim crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.
"It takes years to rise through stages," Jim said. His voice carried irritation. "That tournament will be filled with higher-stage warriors and mages. And you want to send a stage one fighter?"
He shook his head once.
"You're not being bold. You're weakening our odds of winning."
Lucius slowly shook his head in return.
"You really believe that being a few stages higher makes you stronger?" he asked quietly.
No one answered.
Lucius' gaze hardened.
"I believed that once too," he said. "Not long ago."
His eyes drifted briefly to his missing arm.
"That mistake cost me this."
The hallway fell silent.
The Wyndhams all knew how Lucius had lost his arm.
What they didn't know was who took it from him.
And they definitely didn't know what kind of monster he had been fighting.
That part was never shared.
"Then we put him to the test," John said.
His steps slowed, but his voice stayed firm.
"If the brat can last at least sixty seconds against any one of the others, then he participates," John added. "Not a second less."
The air shifted.
Just like that, the argument found its edge.
Not peace—but a decision.
They started walking back toward the throne room.
Jim and Jake took the lead.
John followed a few steps behind.
Before they reached the doors, John spoke again.
"Lucius," he said, tone sharp. "I've had enough of this."
Lucius didn't turn.
"I am the head of this clan. The leader of this family," John continued. "Any decision that concerns the clan should come to me first. Before it's decided."
Lucius kept walking.
A smirk crept onto his face.
"And I am the brain of this clan," Lucius replied calmly. "Its pillar."
He didn't slow down. Didn't look back.
"If I make a suggestion, you don't question it like a child and lash out," he said. "You listen."
The distance between them closed as the throne room doors came into view.
---
While Lucius and the Triple-Js had their own quiet clash in the hallway, the throne room was heading toward a different kind of explosion.
Zephyr turned slowly.
His cold gaze locked onto Alex for a brief second before shifting to Gavalich.
"What is the Paragon Battle Royal?" Zephyr asked.
The hall went silent.
Gavalich hesitated.
He opened his mouth to speak—
"You—!"
Zephyr snapped.
"How dare you ignore me!" he shouted, stepping forward. "You think you're a badass now?"
The tension cracked.
And the room felt one word away from chaos.
After everything Zephyr had said—the tone, the sneer, the venom in his words—what truly set him off was Alex's reaction.
Or rather, the lack of one.
Alex had looked around the dining hall once.
Calm.
Measured.
Then he had looked at Zephyr.
Not with fear. Not with anger.
And then he had turned away, as if Zephyr wasn't even there, and asked Gavalich a question instead.
That single action burned deeper than any insult.
It felt like being erased.
Like Alex was treating him as something that didn't exist.
The next moment, Zephyr's hands were already moving.
His arm snapped up and a slap came flying toward Alex's face.
Fast. Sharp. Full of rage.
The hand cut through the air—
But it never landed.
Alex leaned back at the last second, just enough.
The slap missed by inches.
In the same motion, Alex kicked his chair backward.
Wood scraped against the floor as he put distance between them.
'really…?'
'I don't think I can stand this anymore.'
'I don't think I can keep stopping myself from chopping those hands off.'
Alex's thoughts were cold.
His eyes were colder as they locked onto Zephyr.
"Are you a woman or something?" Alex said flatly. "Begging for attention."
The words hit harder than the missed slap.
A vein bulged on Zephyr's forehead.
Qi surged into his clenched fist, raw and violent.
"You've forgotten, haven't you?" Zephyr roared. "You've forgotten your place in this family, bastard!"
He swung his arm again.
This time, it wasn't a slap.
Qi burst out from his palm—
Invisible, but powerful.
The air warped and wobbled as the attack shot straight toward Alex.
Before it could reach him—
Someone stepped in.
Gavalich moved without hesitation.
The qi strike slammed into his body.
He was pushed back several steps, boots dragging hard against the floor, but he held his ground.
Barely.
When the force finally died out, Gavalich straightened slowly.
The hall fell dead silent.
"What… what do you think you're doing?!" Zephyr shouted, his voice sharp with fury.
"This isn't the right place to start a drama, sir," Gavalich said, his tone controlled, firm enough to draw a line.
"Step out of my way!" Zephyr yelled. "Let me teach this bastard a lesson myself!"
Gavalich hesitated.
For a brief moment, he didn't know what the right move was.
His body stayed in place, but his eyes shifted, measuring the situation.
Then footsteps echoed through the throne room.
Heavy.
Measured.
Jim and Jake walked in first.
Right behind them came Lucius and John.
The moment Zephyr saw the adults, his posture stiffened.
The rage didn't vanish, but it was forced down, buried under restraint.
"What's going on here?" John asked.
His gaze moved across the room.
Alex standing firm.
Zephyr tense and rigid.
Gavalich positioned between them like a wall.
It didn't take much to see that something had almost happened.
Still, no one spoke.
One by one, everyone returned to their seats.
The feast continued.
Alex didn't touch his food.
He just sat there, quiet, his mind elsewhere, while the others ate and talked like nothing had happened.
Eventually, as the gathering began to wind down, Lucius spoke again.
"Just like I said earlier," Lucius said calmly, "I intend for Alex to participate in the Paragon Battle Royal. But before that, we need to know if he has the potential to perform in one."
"He will spar with any of you," John added, taking over smoothly. "If he can last more than sixty seconds, then he is fit."
His eyes swept the table.
"Now," John said, "who among you would like to spar with him?"
Silence followed.
A heavy one.
Everyone needed a moment to process what they had just heard.
'really…?'
'All these talks, all these decisions… and no one asked if I even want this.'
Alex kept his thoughts to himself.
Then a chair scraped against the floor.
Someone stood up.
Zephyr.
"Allow me," he said, a cruel smile creeping onto his face, "to show this bastard where he belongs."