I left Mia with Lyra. My little sister was still holding Sir Hops-a-Lot in her tiny hands, whispering something to the frog about how her big brother was going to become a great warrior. Lyra stood beside her, one hand resting gently on Mia's shoulder.
She looked at me and nodded once. I'll take care of her.
I nodded back at her. Well, Lyra is reliable at least. She took Mia with her, and both of them soon left. I remained alone in the garden.
I took a deep breath and leaned back on the bench. Well, so much has happened in just a few days. My main problem about the core is almost solved. I also convinced Mother, so now I didn't have to worry about that. All I have to do is survive the Path Awakening trial.
Family and responsibilities. These are a lot more complicated than I thought. I can't run from them—not anymore.
I sighed, stood up, and stretched my body a little. A helpless smile appeared on my face. "Well, it can't be helped, huh."
I started walking towards Father's office.
The dried flower was still in my pocket. I could feel it pressed against my chest—light, fragile, already crumbling at the edges. A dead flower from a six-year-old who thought it had magic powers. Mia's smile and bright eyes suddenly appeared in my mind.
Maybe it does, I thought. Just not the kind she thinks.
I kept walking.
_
Father's office was at the end of the west wing. I hadn't been here in years. Not since I started drinking, became a delinquent, started involving myself with bad company, and pushed away everyone who once loved me.
The door to the room was plain—dark wood, no carvings, no family crest. Just a simple handle and a brass nameplate I'd never bothered to read. I knocked, and his voice came through immediately.
"Come in."
I pushed the door open, and even after all these years, the room was still the same as ever. The room was simple. Not poor, just… functional.
A big desk sat in the center, neat and organized. Bookshelves stood along the wall, filled with reports and ledgers. On the right, there was a big picture of our family, and if someone focused on the right corner of the picture, it had a signature on it. Well, that's my older sister for you. There were also some other pictures on the wall.
Father sat behind the desk, reading something. And on his right, standing quietly with his hands clasped behind his back, was a man I recognized immediately.
Han.
He was a tall guy, sharp-eyed and always alert. He was my father's shadow and his right-hand man. He is the one who kept the Celestial family running behind the scenes and has helped my father many times. They are also good friends.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.
"Father," I said, nodding.
Then I looked at Han. "Uncle Han. Good to see you."
His eyes widened slightly. Well, that's understandable. It's been many years since I last called him "Uncle." I still remembered when he used to spoil me every day. Those… days were good. I didn't dwell more on the past memories and cleared my thoughts.
"It's been a while," I said with a small smile.
"Indeed, Young Master, it's been a while," Han replied, bowing his head. He looked genuinely surprised, maybe even a little happy.
I nodded at him, stepped forward, and sat in the chair. I mean, come on, it's my father's place. Do I have to take permission to sit? No.
He was still busy reading something. Then, after a moment, he put whatever he was reading down, leaned back in his chair, and stretched his body. He looked at me with a small, lazy smile.
See? That's my father for you. He is not like those cold, cliché dukes of novels. He is actually quite chill and friendly. Well, that's also true, and that's why it hurt him when I stopped coming to him; back then, I used to come with curious eyes and ask a million questions. He answered every single one of them. I learned a lot from him.
He puts his family above everything and prioritizes them… that's what he taught me too, which I sadly failed at, but not anymore.
His voice brought me back from the shadows of the past.
"So," he said while yawning, "how did the talk with your mom go?"
I looked at him and nodded with a slight smile. "Well, she agreed. She allowed me to enter the Path, but on the condition that I have to survive and come back to her."
He let out a long sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping. "You did? That's great then. I was worried she'd lock you in the basement to keep you safe. She's... protective, to say the least."
I looked him in the eyes and asked, "You are joking, right?"
He didn't say anything. He just stared at the wall behind me.
…No way.
"Dad."
He kept staring at the wall.
"You're joking. Tell me you're joking."
He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean… she hasn't actually done it. Yet."
"…?!"
"Yet?" My voice came out higher than I wanted.
"It was one time. And you were five. You don't even remember it."
"I don't remember being locked in a basement either!"
"It wasn't locked. It was just… secured."
I stared at him. He stared at the wall.
"I hate this family," I muttered.
He finally looked at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Welcome back, son."
He cleared his throat. "Ahem… so I'm happy that you convinced her. She loves you more than anything," he said quietly. "You know that, right?"
I sighed and said in a low voice, "Yeah. I know."
"Good." He leaned back. "Then let's talk about your trial."
I nodded at him. Suddenly, his expression turned a little bit serious. He leaned back in his chair and said, "The treasury will open for you tomorrow. You'll only have one hour to pick things."
One hour. That was all, huh?
He continued, "You can only choose one mana breathing technique and one skill. Nothing else."
I nodded. It made sense. I can't use my family's main mana breathing technique because of having a low rank. It's not like I can't use it; I can, but my core will not properly adjust with it. It would take me more time to master it and cultivate mana; after all, it is leagues above my rank.
"But," his voice turned firm, "don't go trying to grab some S-rank skill. Your body is still at the Initiate rank. If you try to use a skill way above your level, your mana channels will snap like dry twigs. You need the rank and the mana to back up the technique. Understand?"
I already knew that. A higher-rank skill didn't mean stronger—it meant unusable. Your mana capacity, your core rank, your physical limits—they all mattered. An F-rank trying to use an S-rank skill wouldn't become powerful.
So, if I pick a skill leagues above me and try to use it, I'll die.
"I know," I said. "I'll pick something within my limits."
"Good," Noah said. "Focus on your foundation."
Then he looked toward Han and said, "Han will take you to the treasury tomorrow."
I looked at him. "I'll be in your care then, Uncle."
Han politely nodded. "Likewise, Young Master."
_
I leaned back a little in the chair and continued talking with Father and Han. We talked for some time, and it was peaceful. I haven't felt this feeling in a long time.
Then, as if remembering something, I looked at Father and asked, "What about the Elder Council? They might try to do something, right?"
Father's expression didn't change, but the air in the room shifted. He spread some of his aura to let me know how he felt.
"As expected, they're against it," Father said flatly. "They really despise you and wanted to use this to turn against me."
I clicked my tongue. "Figured."
"Ever since your grandfather left for seclusion training," he continued, "the council has been… testing boundaries."
Grandfather? My eyes widened slightly. Now, I remember my grandpa is a powerhouse.
Zephyar von Celestial.
The previous head of the Celestial house and my father's father. One of the strongest people alive in the world. One of the few people who ever reached the Sovereign rank and a member of the Astra Council.
He was a human domain hero, who successfully stopped a high-gate incursion and fought against a demon general twelve years ago. After that, he went into seclusion.
His titles are The Lightning Sovereign and The Sword God.
In the game, he appeared later in the story. Even when I died in the game, he never appeared. So, I don't know what to feel about him. But I do know one thing: my grandpa is a living legend, and if he were here, the council wouldn't do anything.
"Do you have any idea when he's coming back?" I asked.
Father shook his head. "Sadly, I don't know what that old man is doing. He never told me about it."
I see. Even he didn't know when he was coming back.
Then, Father said with a cold smile, "But you don't have to worry." He waved a hand dismissively.
I frowned a little. "Can you handle them?"
He looked at me. Not with anger, not with irritation, just calm confidence.
"Leo," he said. "I'm still the head of this house."
Han let out a quiet chuckle. "Indeed. Those old fogies talk loudly, but they know their limits. The Duke holds authority they can't touch."
A small smirk tugged at Father's lips. "Han, don't call them old fogies."
"But they are old fogies, my lord."
"They are. But don't say it out loud."
Han's eyes crinkled. "Of course, my lord. I would never."
I stared at both of them. …Were they joking? Right now?
Father caught my expression and shrugged. "What? You think I spend all day brooding?"
I didn't know what to say to that. He waved his hand again. "Don't worry about the council, brat. Let this old man handle them. Just focus on your training. Leave the politics to me."
I nodded slowly. "Alright."
We talked a little more after that. Father asked about Mom—not prying, just checking in. Han added small observations here and there, practical advice about the trial. The conversation flowed easily, like we'd done this a hundred times before.
But we hadn't. Not in years.
Eventually, I stood up.
"I should go train."
Father nodded. "Don't push yourself too hard on the first day."
"I won't," I replied.
I turned toward the door, then paused.
"Father."
"Yes?"
I didn't look back. "Thanks. For the treasury. And for… trusting me."
Silence. Then, quietly—
"Just come back alive, Leo."
I nodded once and left.