The walk back through the estate corridors felt different from the journey to the conference chamber. Then, Ariel had been walking toward uncertainty, toward a confrontation that could have ended in complete failure. Now, he walked away from that confrontation with something tangible secured, however precarious.
His future hinged on survival in a place called the Deep Forge. A facility with a seventy percent fatality rate even for B rank cultivators. And he was E rank low, barely awakened, with powers he'd only begun to understand.
The weight of that reality pressed down on him with each step, heavier than his grandfather's transcendent presence had been.
Lyra waited exactly where they'd left her, standing at attention outside the greenhouse entrance. Her golden eyes widened the moment she saw them approaching, taking in Ariel's expression, reading something in his posture that made her stiffen.
"Young master," she said immediately, bowing. "Is everything alright? What happened at the conference?"
Before Ariel could formulate an answer, Seraphina spoke, her voice carrying none of the warmth she'd shown with her husband or the cold steel she'd wielded against her children. This was professional, efficient, the tone of someone issuing instructions that would be followed without question.
"The situation has been resolved for now. Ariel will need to prepare for significant challenges ahead. I'm taking him to my office immediately. You'll accompany us and wait outside. He'll need his attendant present once we're finished."
"Of course, matriarch." Lyra fell into step behind them without hesitation, though Ariel caught the concerned glance she shot his way when she thought he wasn't looking.
They moved through the estate with purpose, taking routes that avoided the main thoroughfares where other family members might be gathering to discuss the conference's outcome. Seraphina clearly wanted privacy for whatever conversation was coming.
Servants who did cross their path took one look at the matriarch's expression and found urgent reasons to be elsewhere. Her authority was absolute in these situations, second only to Erlin himself, and everyone recognized the dangerous focus in her silver eyes.
They climbed a grand staircase to the third floor of the main administrative building, walked down a hallway lined with portraits of previous matriarchs, and stopped before an ornate door made of dark wood inlaid with silver patterns. The Crowcrest crest was emblazoned at its center, smaller than the one in the conference chamber but no less detailed.
Seraphina pressed her palm against the door, and Ariel felt a surge of mana as recognition wards verified her identity. The door swung open silently, revealing an office that somehow managed to feel both imposing and comfortable.
The space was large but not cavernous, maybe thirty feet across and twenty deep. One entire wall was floor to ceiling windows overlooking the eastern gardens, allowing natural light to flood the room. The other walls were lined with bookshelves packed with volumes that radiated subtle mana, clearly containing techniques, histories, and knowledge accumulated over generations.
A massive desk dominated one end of the room, its surface organized with neat stacks of documents, cultivation manuals, and what looked like reports from various family operations. Behind it sat a high backed chair that had probably witnessed decades of family decisions.
But Seraphina didn't move toward the desk. Instead, she gestured to a sitting area near the windows, where two comfortable couches faced each other across a low table. The furniture was elegant but practical, designed for long conversations rather than brief meetings.
"Lyra, wait outside," Seraphina instructed. "Allow no interruptions unless the Primarch himself requires entry. No one else disturbs us for any reason. Clear?"
"Crystal clear, matriarch." Lyra bowed and stepped back into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click.
The wards activated immediately, a shimmer of energy passing over the door that Ariel could sense even with his limited experience. Whatever was said in this room would remain private, protected by barriers that would defeat all but the most powerful eavesdropping attempts.
Seraphina moved to one of the couches and sat with practiced grace, gesturing for Ariel to take the opposite seat. When he did, she studied him for several long moments, her silver eyes searching his face with an intensity that made him want to fidget.
Finally, she spoke, and all traces of the political operator who'd maneuvered an entire family council vanished. What remained was pure grandmother, concern and worry etched into features that rarely showed such vulnerability.
"Do you understand what just happened in that chamber?" she asked quietly. "Do you truly comprehend what you've agreed to by accepting my proposal?"
Ariel met her gaze steadily. "I'm going to train at a place called the Deep Forge. A facility that kills seven out of ten people who enter it, even experienced cultivators. I have one week to prepare before entering and five months to survive inside. If I live, I compete in a tournament for the right to keep the Crown Crow title. If I die, the position becomes vacant and my problems cease to matter."
"That's the surface understanding," Seraphina acknowledged. "But there are layers beneath that you need to comprehend fully before we proceed any further."
She leaned forward slightly, her hands folding in her lap. "Let me start with the most fundamental question. Do you want this? The Crown Crow position, the responsibilities that come with it, the burden of potentially becoming Primarch one day? Because if you don't, if you'd rather walk away from all of this, we can find another path. I can arrange for you to receive resources, training somewhere safer, a comfortable life without the weight of succession politics crushing down on you."
The offer hung in the air, genuine and tempting. Ariel could hear the sincerity in her voice. She would do it if he asked, would find a way to extract him from this situation despite the verdict just rendered.
But he thought about his previous life. About being powerless, dismissed, used and discarded. About dying alone in an alley with nothing to show for seventeen years of existence. About accepting the gods' offer specifically to become something more than that.
"I want it," he said firmly. "Not because I care about politics or family prestige. But because I'm tired of being powerless. I'm tired of having no say in my own fate. If becoming Crown Crow and eventually Primarch means having the strength to never be helpless again, then yes, I want it."
Seraphina's expression softened, something like pride flickering in her eyes. "That's honest at least. Brutally pragmatic, but honest. Your father said something similar once, though his phrasing was more eloquent."
She settled back into the couch, her posture relaxing fractionally. "Very well. Then we proceed with full commitment. But you need to understand exactly what you're walking into, and that requires education on several fronts. We'll start with the training grounds themselves."