Chapter 21: Declaration
Returning to the present.
The first to notice the Ancestor's gaze were the elders. Sensing the shift in his expression, they followed his line of sight. Confusion flickered across their faces.
Why did the Ancestor look… conflicted?
"Come here, Dax."
The old man stretched out his hand, gesturing for him to approach—voice warm, yet carrying the weight of inevitability.
Murmurs rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves.
"I greet you, Grandfather."
Dax bowed slightly—posture perfect, expression humble.
This old fox… he still intends to push this through.
Before anything else could be said, their exchange was interrupted.
Lines of servants entered the hall, each carrying finely wrapped gifts—silk boxes tied with silver ribbon, trays of rare spirit fruits, and sealed jars of immortal wine.
Dax's eyes narrowed.
That attire… Endo clan.
This was a family banquet. Outsiders were never informed—let alone invited.
The servants parted, forming a clear path down the center of the hall.
Three figures walked through.
At the front was a middle-aged man clad in a sky-blue draped robe—elegant, commanding, aura restrained yet vast.
Ken Endo.
Patriarch of the Endo Clan, ranked among the Ten Great Clans of the Bertha Empire.
Behind him walked his daughter, Alia Endo.
A breathtaking woman dressed in the same colors—robe flowing like liquid sky, figure slender and perfectly proportioned. Calm, restrained power flowed from her aura. Her face held pure indifference, yet she bowed respectfully toward the Ancestor.
The third was her brother, Liam. He resembled Ken closely—same sharp features, shoulder-length hair swaying gently as he walked, eyes bright with curiosity and barely concealed arrogance.
Ken's gaze settled on Dax, and he smiled—warm, paternal, almost nostalgic.
"You've grown into a fine man."
Murmurs exploded throughout the hall.
"She's Dax's fiancée…"
"Isn't this a family banquet?"
"They're engaged—think for yourself."
Dax lowered his head politely. "I greet the Head of the Endo Clan."
Then he returned to his grandfather's side—completely ignoring the siblings.
"Thank you for coming, Ken," Godfall said calmly. "How is my friend?"
Ken closed his eyes.
"My old man passed away a long time ago."
"I see." Godfall's voice remained steady.
Did he die peacefully?
The words were transmitted directly to Ken—private, gentle.
"Yes. He left something for you."
Ken extended a sealed envelope—simple parchment, unmarked, yet heavy with unspoken weight.
Godfall opened it without hesitation.
In an instant, his aura turned icy.
The entire hall trembled—chandeliers swaying, wine rippling in cups, breath catching in throats.
The clansmen grew tense—knees weakening under the sudden pressure.
"Please—calm yourself," Ken urged, sweat forming at his brow.
How is he still this strong…?
Ken's heart pounded.
I'm at the pinnacle of Rank Nine—and I still can't gauge him.
Behind him, his children bent under the pressure—resisting with all their strength, faces pale.
Meanwhile, the Godfall clan members were already on their knees—heads bowed, trembling.
Micah stepped forward—wings spreading wide in a slow, deliberate motion.
With a single sweep, he dispersed the oppressive aura covering the hall—golden light washing over the room like dawn breaking.
Because of the Ancestor's display of power, the Endo clan failed to notice Micah at first.
But the elders did.
Dax placed a hand on his grandfather's shoulder.
The fury vanished instantly—like a storm snuffed out.
"Thank you, my friend," Godfall murmured—speaking not to Ken, but to the letter itself.
What could be written in that note…? Dax wondered.
His thoughts were interrupted by a cold, clear voice.
"May I?"
Dax turned toward her.
His Origin Eyes activated—black rings swirling around his pupils like miniature event horizons.
Since gaining these eyes, he had noticed something—every life carried a flame. Some burned like raging wildfires. Others flickered like candles in wind.
"I let my flame burn out," Dax murmured—finally understanding the words his predecessor once spoke.
At the same moment, she spoke:
"I wish to call off the engagement."
Instantly, the hall fell silent.
Then murmurs erupted—shock, outrage, confusion.
"What are you saying?!"
Ken lashed out—voice sharp with anger.
This child wants to get us killed.
The older generation was not forgiving.
The Endo Clan Patriarch bowed deeply.
"Please forgive my child."
"Child," Ancestor Godfall said calmly—ignoring Ken entirely.
"What is your reason?"
He looked directly at Alia.
She bowed deeply—but there was no regret in her eyes.
"He is weak."
Her voice was soft—yet it pierced the hall like a needle.
Dax smiled inwardly—cold, amused.
Suddenly, enraged voices rose from the crowd.
"If the young lord's talent had not been stolen, would you dare speak like this?"
A burly clansman shouted—fists clenched.
"If we weren't hunted by the Blood River all these years, would you be able to stand here?"
A white-haired elder snapped—mana flaring around him.
Before the uproar could escalate, Micah appeared behind Dax.
His sudden presence stunned the hall.
Wings folded gently against his back—golden light still shimmering faintly.
"I greet my master."
Dax froze for half a heartbeat—then bowed instantly.
Grandfather vanished from his place and reappeared seated upon the throne among the elders.
"It's that man…" Whispers spread like wildfire.
The elders rose to their feet—expressions shifting from confusion to wary respect.
"A waste needs a master?"
Discontent was evident—especially in the eyes of the Seventh Elder.
"I don't think he's human."
A white-haired beauty muttered from a distant corner.
She sat among five youths—three men and two women.
Each radiated refined power.
They wore robes different from the Godfall clan—each bearing the emblem of the Ayala Magic Academy, the most prestigious academy in the empire.
Pride filled their eyes—yet their judgment remained clear.
From Micah, they sensed something primal—an aura only beasts possessed.
They chose to observe.
There was no way the Ancestor was unaware of him.
What the hell is happening in this clan? Liam pondered.
That question had plagued him since hearing of Dax's return—and the reappearance of a figure long thought dead.
Who delivered this information?
If not for that message, we would be oblivious to the changes in the House of Fall.
This alone was enough to shake the Bertha Empire.
He reached out mentally.
"Father… are you seeing all this?"
"Fool. It's only you and me here. I don't know what's wrong with your sister. She couldn't wait."
"Father, you should speak to her. Do you remember the glory days of the Godfall clan?"
This empire has only three transcendent beings.
"Now there is a fourth—not to mention that creature calling himself his master."
Ken's voice hardened.
"Alia, you are not a child anymore. Why can't you see what stands before you?"
"This is my life, Father," she replied calmly.
"As you said, I am not a child. I am three hundred years old. I surpass him in both age and strength."
"I want someone exceptionally stronger than me. That is simple."
"If this continues, what is the likelihood I won't outlive him?"
"The average human lifespan is two hundred years if lucky."
"This child has no talent. I cannot accept that."
Her voice never wavered.
"You've made up your mind," Ken said solemnly.
The agreement he had shared with Dax's father was gone—just like that.
"Yes," she said calmly.
"Don't worry about support. I am the disciple of the strongest mage in the empire."
"You have the Empire."
"Foolish child…" Ken shook his head.
Dax walked past Micah and stopped before Alia.
"Lord Ken," he said calmly.
"It was good to have you all here today."
"But this is a family celebration. You may leave."
He pointed to the door.
His voice was steady—unshaken, unbothered.
His counterpart held no memories of them.
So Dax treated them as strangers—regardless of their status.
"You little!"
Liam surged forward—rage twisting his features.
But before the words could leave his mouth, the Ancestor's presence descended.
In that instant, Liam's back was soaked in cold sweat. His legs stiffened—rooted to the floor.
Dax turned his gaze toward him.
Cold.
Indifferent.
As though he were looking at an ant.