"Hey, Old Man, it's me! I'm coming in!"
Damien kicked the door open, a grin plastered on his face. However, the atmosphere inside the study froze him in his tracks.
Straight ahead sat Theron, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.
To his right sat Elizabeth, sipping her tea, though the corners of her lips were twitching in a suppressed smile.
"Mom, Dad... lovely weather we're having?" Damien laughed dryly, sensing the air pressure in the room dropping rapidly.
"You both look... surprisingly healthy?"
Theron didn't blink. "Oh? Why the sudden 'Dad'? I thought I was just an 'Old Man'?"
Theron's lips curled into a smile. To an outsider, it might have looked welcoming. To Damien, who had lived two lives, that smile screamed imminent danger.
He's going to do it.
"Shadow Bind."
Theron didn't even lift a finger.
Instantly, the shadows in the room surged like living sludge. Two tendrils shot from the floor, and two erupted from the ceiling. Before Damien could twitch a muscle, his wrists and ankles were clamped, hoisting him into the air in an 'X' shape.
"Damn it, Dad! What kind of father ambushes his son the second he walks through the door?!" Damien yelled, struggling against the cold, iron-like grip of the darkness. He turned his head frantically.
"Mom! A little help?"
Elizabeth blew gently on her tea, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Your father is just... enthusiastic, dear."
"Isabelle! Help me!"
The maid, Isabelle, who had been standing in the corner, bowed deeply.
"I shall pray for the Young Master's safety."
With practiced efficiency, she stepped backward out of the room and closed the door, leaving Damien to his fate.
Damien gritted his teeth, looking back at his father.
Theron sat unmoving, his aura oppressive. This wasn't just a greeting; this was a challenge.
Ever since Damien had revealed he intended to cultivate both a Mana Heart and an Aura Core, walking the path of both Mage and Knight, Theron had tested him relentlessly.
It was the arrogance of the world's strongest man: Show me that your divided focus isn't a waste of talent.
Show me that you can afford to have such an arrogant goal!
"Fine," Damien spat, his eyes narrowing.
"If you want to play rough, Old Man, don't blame me for breaking your furniture!"
Theron raised an eyebrow, his gaze calm. He knew exactly why Damien was here, the Elven Forest was probably this kids way of saying he wanted to go outside.
However, although too planned to send Damien away, he was a little unwilling.
He felt Damien was to weak to protect himself, and of course Damien knew this, for another reason why he came today was none other than to prove himself.
You want to see if I can survive the outside world? Fine. Watch this.
Damien closed his eyes.
"Third Order: Aura Strengthening."
"Third Order Spell: Shadow Razors."
Boom.
The air in the room grew heavy.
From his lower dantian, the golden Aura Core spun violently. Torrential heat flooded his veins, inflating his muscles and hardening his skin to the density of steel.
Simultaneously, the Mana Heart in his chest thrummed. Four pitch-black tendrils erupted from Damien's back, mimicking his father's element, but with a twist.
At the tip of each tendril, the shadows condensed into serrated, rotating buzzsaws.
"Hahaha! Father!" Damien roared, his voice vibrating with power.
"Back then, when you tried to force a teacher on me, I refused! When you said I could only walk one road to the peak, I refused!"
The shadow binds groaned under the tension as Damien pulled his limbs inward.
"You were confused then. But trust me! As the son of the world's strongest, I won't be mediocre!"
Damien locked eyes with Theron. A surge of complex emotion swelled in his chest. In this second life, he had goals that went beyond simple strength.
He had a family to protect. He had a disastrous fate to rewrite.
The path of dual cultivation was lonely. It was slow. It was ridiculed.
But he needed the physical defense of a Knight to survive close combat, and the destructive versatility of a Mage to handle armies.
Mom, Dad, watch closely. This isn't a whim.
Crack... Crack...
The floorboards where Theron's shadows were anchored began to splinter.
"Open for me!"
Damien didn't just pull; he sawed. His four Shadow Razors slashed frantically at the bindings holding his wrists, while his aura-infused muscles exerted thousands of pounds of force.
Elizabeth put her teacup down. It was empty, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were rimmed with red.
She saw the sweat pouring down her son's face, the trembling of his bones. She knew how much pain he was enduring to prove his path was valid.
Snap!
The sound was like a gunshot.
"HAAHH!"
With a final, explosive exertion, the binds shattered.
BOOM!
Debris from the ceiling and floor exploded outward. Dust filled the room.
Damien landed in a crouch, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his chin. His clothes were tattered, and his mana reserves were dangerously low, but he was free.
"Haa... haa..." Damien straightened up, wiping the dust from his face. He flashed a tired, cocky grin.
"So... how was that? Did I pass, Old Man?"
Theron remained silent for a long moment. The oppressive atmosphere lingered, thick and suffocating.
Then, the frown vanished.
"Hmph." Theron's lips curved into a genuine, albeit slight, smile. "Barely."
The shadow chair behind Damien materialized out of thin air. "Sit."
Theron's expression turned solemn instantly. "Since you broke free, I will overlook the disrespect of calling me 'Old Man' for today."
Damien collapsed into the shadow chair, his limbs aching.
"So, the Elven Forest," Theron mused, tapping his finger on the desk. "I know you won't tell me the real reason you're going there. You always have your secrets."
Theron leaned forward, the pressure in the room returning, sharper than before. He looked his son dead in the eye, his voice devoid of warmth.
"But before you go, realize one thing."
Theron raised a finger.
"You are still too weak."