The days following the desecration of the vault were filled with an insufferable, triumphant energy at the Zaqor Manor. Ralph paraded around the estate with the Aetheria Rose Pendant resting proudly against his collarbone, the silver rose catching the midday sun while its central emerald pulsed with a warm, stolen glow.
In the grand courtyard, Ralph's training sessions had reached a fever pitch. Under the eager, watchful eyes of Rrejy and Tere, Ralph summoned larger, flashier constructs of light. Blinding barriers and sweeping crescent blades of yellow-white mana exploded against the training dummies, drawing nods of stern approval from Rrejy and soft, elegant claps from Tere.
"Magnificent, Ralph," Rrejy's deep voice boomed across the sands. "The pendant's output is remarkable. Your mana capacity is expanding by the day. The Royal Academy will have no choice but to place you in the elite vanguard."
"It's effortless, Father," Ralph gasped, wiping a thick layer of sweat from his forehead. He tried to puff out his chest, but his breathing was abnormally ragged, and his knees trembled slightly under his white-and-gold robes. "I feel... a bit winded, but the power is undeniable."
Neither Rrejy nor Tere noticed the subtle, unnatural tremor in Ralph's hands, nor did they see the microscopic, dark-grey roots of the Ironwood parasite tightly coiled inside the pendant's silver links.
Just fifty yards away, kneeling in the dirt of the stables, Nard was shoveling straw. His head was bowed, his shoulders slumped in his perfect, pathetic facade. But beneath his tattered tunic, near his heart, his dual-nature Tier 2 core was singing.
Every time Ralph channeled his light magic into the pendant, the invisible Ironwood seed drank the excess energy, purifying and compressing it before soundlessly routing it through the void directly into Nard's core. It was a constant, effortless feast. Nard didn't even have to train to grow stronger; his abusive stepbrother was literally exhausting himself to feed his growth.
The pure light mana flowed into Nard's pathways like cool, liquid silver, effortlessly expanding the secondary emerald-white ring surrounding his heart. The deep scars of his childhood magical blockages were not just healing—they were being reinforced, turning into highly conductive channels of absolute power.
In the dead of night, within the absolute silence of the servant's passage, Beru materialized in a quiet ripple of gold-tinted energy. The legendary morpher's amber eyes glowed with satisfaction as he examined Nard's core.
"The parasite is feeding well," Beru whispered, his deep baritone vibrating through the darkness. "Your dual-core is already reaching the absolute limit of Tier 2. The mana density you possess right now is comparable to a Tier 4 battle mage, yet it is completely compressed, hidden behind the vacuum of your suppression."
"Ralph is growing more frustrated," Nard murmured, a cold smile playing on his lips. "He thinks his fatigue is just the result of hard training. He doesn't realize he's pouring his own life force into my cup."
"Let him drink himself dry," Beru warned, his expression turning solemn. "But be vigilant. The winter trials at the Royal Academy are only weeks away. Once Ralph departs, Tere and Rrejy will have no use for a 'hollow shell' like you. They will try to discard you permanently to ensure no loose ends remain of Maria's legacy. We must push your training to Tier 3 before that day comes."
The opportunity to test Ralph's growing desperation came the following afternoon.
Nard was carrying a heavy wooden crate of iron stirrups past the training grounds when a breathless, pale Ralph intercepted him. Ralph's eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed with a mixture of physical exhaustion and erratic temper.
"You," Ralph snarled, grabbing Nard by the collar of his tattered tunic and dragging him into the shade of the stone arches. The Aetheria Rose Pendant hung heavily around Ralph's neck, its emerald glowing dimly. "Why are you always lingering around like a shadow? Are you mocking me?"
Nard let his eyes turn dull and vacant, his body trembling on cue. "N-No, Master Ralph. I was just delivering the stirrups to the stables."
"Shut up!" Ralph roared, his voice cracking with fatigue. He raised his right hand, attempting to channel a Tier 2 light whip to strike Nard. "I am the genius of this house! Why do I feel so tired? Why does my mana feel like it's leaking every time I look at you?"
Ralph tried to push his light magic into his palm, but the moment his core flared, the Ironwood parasite on the pendant reacted violently. It aggressively siphoned the rising mana, dragging it straight through the void.
The light whip in Ralph's hand flickered, sputtered, and completely dissolved into a harmless puff of yellow smoke before it could even form.
Ralph stared at his empty palm in absolute shock and horror. "What... why is my magic failing? Why can't I...?"
He stumbled backward, clutching his chest as a sudden wave of extreme lethargy washed over him. His knees buckled, and he had to lean heavily against the stone pillar just to stay upright, his breathing shallow and desperate.
Nard kept his head bowed, dropping to his knees to pick up the fallen iron stirrups. Beneath the shadow of his hair, a cold, terrifying smile stretched across his face. He could feel the freshly siphoned light magic surging beautifully into his heart, making his dual-core pulse with an electric, revitalizing warmth.
"Forgive me, Master Ralph," Nard whispered, his voice a perfect imitation of terrified submission. "I will get out of your way."
As Nard stood up and walked steadily toward the stables, he didn't look back. The Zaqors believed they had stolen his mother's legacy, but they had only fastened their own chains. And in the deep, silent dark, the weaver was finally ready to pull the leash.