"Rrakavasha… you didn't happen to do something that would attract the Ten Lords Commission's judges, did you?"
Halfway through speaking, Teng Xiao changed his wording, softening it considerably. He'd originally meant to say unforgivable crimes, but the words had died on his tongue.
"If I admitted it, would you escort me to the Ten Lords Commission?" Rrakavasha's gaze darkened, making the air between them grow heavy.
"…Don't joke like that. Tell me the real reason."
A chill crept down Teng Xiao's back, spreading like ice across his spine. He couldn't see the slightest trace of deception on Rrakavasha's face, no telltale twitch or averted gaze.
Which meant… it was probably true.
But it absolutely couldn't be acknowledged, not here, not now. He had to give him a way out, some plausible deniability.
Seeing his intent, Rrakavasha dropped his guard alittle and pulled back from the precipice.
"The real reason I retired is simpler: I just wanted every 'see you tomorrow' I said to my mother to never become a lie. That's all." His voice softened, carrying a weight that transcended mere words.
"She lost everything. She only has me. And I… only have my mother."
Teng Xiao fell silent, the confession settling over him like rain.
On the Xianzhou, the longer people lived, the harder it became to draw emotional comfort from family ties. Centuries dulled the sharpest bonds, wore down the strongest connections. Over time, many stopped caring about kinship altogether, viewing it as a weakness rather than a strength.
But he understood Rrakavasha's feelings with painful clarity.
First, he was still relatively young by Xianzhou standards. Second… his own mother had died when he was very small, too young to even remember her face properly.
From a personal standpoint, Teng Xiao understood and accepted the choice before him without hesitation.
The only truly surprising thing was that the bond between mother and son had remained unchanged, unbroken, for six hundred years.
"Teng Xiao, outsiders think being born into my family means a smooth path to success." Rrakavasha's tone shifted, becoming quieter, more contemplative. "They don't know most of our ancestors were trapped in shackles forged by the past itself."
"How so?" Teng Xiao leaned forward, confused by the sudden shift.
"For generations, we've all been soldiers. Whether wives marry in or daughters marry out, without exception. Every single one took up arms."
"What's wrong with that? It's a proud tradition."
"Have you considered that military service may not be a path everyone truly wanted?" The question hung in the air like smoke.
Teng Xiao froze, his mind racing backward through assumptions he'd never questioned.
Yes…
Everyone assumed that with the family's glorious history, each generation must naturally become Cloud Knight elites. It was expected, inevitable, written in their blood.
But no one ever asked why they chose the sword in the first place.
If he had to guess, inspiration from ancestors, pride in legacy, and the weight of history.
"Could it be-"
"No need to guess. Exactly what you think."
Rrakavasha's tone carried quiet complexity, layers of bitterness wrapped in resignation.
"As descendants of the first Emanator of the Huntt, my family has only one ancestral rule: never disgrace the ancestor's glory."
He paused, letting the weight settle. "But… the rule wasn't passed down by the ancestor couple themselves. It was imposed by later descendants, those who came after and twisted legacy into obligation."
"From their era until now, despite long lifespans measured in millennia, my family has gone through twenty-three generations in just two thousand years. No different from short-lived species who burn bright and fade fast."
"My mother and I are the longest-lived since our ancestor." His fingers traced the rim of his teacup absently. "Before us, the longest lived barely exceeded four hundred years."
"My grandfather lived only sixty-two years. My grandmother raised my father alone, and after he passed adulthood at twenty-three, he went to the army and died in battle within two years."
"At one point, our bloodline nearly went extinct entirely."
"You've heard of the child-grasping custom used to divine a child's future, passed down since the alliance with the foxians?" Rrakavasha changed the subject abruptly, his gaze distant.
"Of course. I grabbed a toy blade as a kid, but my parents never forced me into anything. I joined the Cloud Knights of my own will, my own choice." Teng Xiao answered, slightly confused.
"My family is the opposite."
"…Huh?"
"In recent generations, except me, no one grabbed a weapon during the ceremony. Yet every one of them still became soldiers regardless."
"…So most were never truly free?" Teng Xiao inhaled sharply, the realization hitting him like a canon.
Rrakavasha shook his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
"No one ever said it aloud, never voiced the truth. But most had talents elsewhere, gifts that went wasted. For example, my father, compared to fighting, he was far better at forging weapons after studying on the Xianzhou Zhumei."
"Yet he abandoned that path without hesitation. Many ancestors were the same, sacrificing their true callings."
"The expectations people had became our family rule… a stereotype that couldn't be broken."
Teng Xiao felt unease coiling in his gut like a worm.
War was brutal beyond measure. Even Emanators couldn't escape helplessness when the tide turned, nor could they avoid the ever-present threat of Mara lurking in their extended lifespans.
Few generals served for over five hundred years before succumbing to it. Ordinary Cloud Knights died even sooner, their names forgotten within decades.
Being born into this family almost guaranteed dying on the battlefield, sword in hand.
Yet outsiders called it fortune, blessed by the Hunt itself.
No wonder Rrakavasha had left, severing ties that had bound his lineage for millennia.
For two thousand years, no descendant had dared break the chains of history, shatter the expectations.
Now he had, and he stood alone in defiance.
It also explained why a family known for early marriages and continuing bloodlines had produced someone nearly six hundred years old and still unmarried, refusing to perpetuate the cycle.
"Teng Xiao, I don't truly resist returning to the army. But give me time… until I send my mother off." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Her condition… may only last a few more years at most."
"Since childhood she cherished me dearly, fiercely. To free me from the ancestral chains, she even fought my father, argued against our tradition"
"Mara is the destiny of long-lived species. The law leaves me no way to change her fate, no loophole to exploit."
"So as the price of accepting destiny, I want her to smile without regret when she is guided into death by the judges."
"I understand." Teng Xiao nodded slowly, solemnly.
He glanced around the teahouse, ensuring no one was close enough to overhear, then leaned closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Some things tonight I didn't hear. Just control yourself. I don't want to bail you out from the Ten Lords Commission when they come calling."
"What are you talking about, General? I don't understand."
Rrakavasha suddenly smiled warmly, the expression transforming his features entirely.
"I'm merely accompanying my mother and slowing Mara's progression through familial bonds. I have no idea what 'control' means in this context."
"Good."
Teng Xiao sighed in relief and draped an arm around his shoulders companionably.
"I accept delaying your return… but about training Mianxue and Qinghan…"
Rrakavasha opened his eyes calmly, meeting the unspoken question head-on.
"I only fear they cannot endure my family's harsh standards, the expectations I was raised with."
"If they lack the will and talent, then I misjudged their potential. I won't make you take responsibility for my error."
Teng Xiao released him and finished his tea in one smooth motion, setting the cup down with finality.
"It's cold outside. Next time I'll steal my father's prized tea to treat you properly. For now, I'm off."
His tall figure disappeared into the night, swallowed by shadows and falling snow.
Rrakavasha chuckled softly, alone once more, and looked at his reflection wavering in the tea's dark surface.