The Valenridge carriage disappeared down the long stone drive, lantern light bobbing briefly before the gates closed behind it.
Silence returned to the estate.
Not the heavy, suffocating kind that followed arguments—but something quieter. Reflective. The kind that settled after words had been said that could not be taken back.
I stood at the window for a while, hands clasped behind my back, watching the darkness where she had gone.
I hadn't fixed anything.
But I also hadn't broken it further.
That alone felt like a victory.
When I finally turned away, fatigue settled into my bones. Not physical exhaustion—I'd already trained earlier that day—but the deeper kind that came from restraint. From holding yourself together when every instinct urged you to either lash out or retreat.
I headed back to my room.
The door had barely closed behind me when the pressure returned.
Not pain.
Not danger.
Authority.
The air warped subtly, like heat haze without heat, and translucent panels unfolded into existence—more stable than the previous night, but no less ominous.
I didn't sit.
I stood still and read.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[POST-COMPENSATION ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
My jaw tightened.
"Let me guess," I murmured. "More bad news."
The panel flickered, then expanded.
[TALENT STATUS: UNSEALED – PARTIAL]
[WARNING: FULL UNSEALING CURRENTLY IMPOSSIBLE]
I stilled.
"…Explain."
As if responding to the word itself, another panel slid into place, text denser, more clinical.
[CAUSE IDENTIFIED]
[WORLD CURSE DURATION: PROLONGED]
[EFFECT: PHYSIQUE AND SOUL STRUCTURE DEGRADATION]
My fingers curled slowly.
Degradation.
Not suppression.
Damage.
The system continued mercilessly.
[DETAILS]
• Mana pathways underdeveloped and misaligned
• Physical vessel adapted to low-output existence
• Talent growth forcibly starved during critical developmental years
[CONCLUSION]
CURRENT BODY CANNOT WITHSTAND FULL TALENT RELEASE
A cold weight settled in my chest.
"So even without the seal…" I whispered.
[CORRECT]
For a moment, I said nothing.
I thought of my growth spurt. The way my body had changed so quickly once I began training. The unnatural pace—not enough to draw suspicion, but enough to hint that something had been waiting.
Waiting for permission.
"And if I force it?" I asked quietly.
The system didn't hesitate.
[RESULT: SYSTEMIC COLLAPSE]
[ESTIMATED OUTCOME: DEATH OR IRREVERSIBLE LOSS OF TALENT]
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
"So the world cripples me, then acts surprised when I can't walk."
There was no response.
This wasn't a conversation.
This was a verdict.
Then—
[ALTERNATIVE PATH DETECTED]
My focus snapped back.
[SOLUTION: PHYSIQUE REFORGING]
[METHOD: EXTERNAL INTERVENTION ENVIRONMENT]
The next panel made my heart beat faster.
[LOCATION: UNKNOWN TO CURRENT WORLD RECORDS]
[STATUS: SEALED / ISOLATED / UNOBSERVABLE]
[ACCESS: SYSTEM-ONLY TELEPORTATION]
I stared.
"…A hidden place?"
[CONFIRMED]
[DESIGNED FOR: ANOMALOUS EXISTENCES]
Anomalous.
I almost laughed.
Of course it was.
Images flickered faintly behind the text—too indistinct to truly see. Vast stone. Endless pressure. Environments that felt hostile to normal life, yet strangely… compatible with me.
[PURPOSE]
• Repair and expand physical vessel
• Rebuild mana pathways
• Gradual reintegration of sealed talent
[ESTIMATED TIME REQUIRED: 1 YEAR]
One year.
A full year vanished from the world.
From my family.
From her.
My first instinct was relief.
One year of uninterrupted training. No politics. No scrutiny. No eyes.
Exactly what I needed.
My second instinct—
Was dread.
Because I already knew the problem.
I rubbed my face slowly.
"…This place," I said. "No one knows about it?"
[CORRECT]
"No tracking. No divination. No way to follow?"
[CORRECT]
[NOTE: EVEN WORLD-LEVEL OBSERVATION IS LIMITED]
That made my stomach twist.
Not fear of the place.
Fear of what it would look like from the outside.
A disgraced duke's heir.
Recently changed behavior.
Mending bridges.
Then suddenly—
Gone.
For a year.
I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, elbows on knees.
"They'll think I ran away," I murmured.
[LIKELY]
"They'll think I broke under pressure."
[LIKELY]
"They'll think—"
I stopped.
Because I didn't need the system to finish that sentence.
I closed my eyes.
I can't decide this alone.
Not this time.
My parents received me the next morning.
Not formally—no council chamber, no long table—but in my father's private study. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating shelves of ledgers, military treatises, and records of a house that had stood for generations.
My father stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back.
My mother sat across from me, posture composed, eyes sharp and searching.
They had noticed.
Of course they had.
My father spoke first.
"You requested this meeting," he said. "Speak."
I took a breath.
"I want to leave the estate," I said plainly. "To train."
The silence that followed was immediate and absolute.
My mother's eyes narrowed just slightly.
My father turned to face me fully.
"…Where?" he asked.
I hesitated.
Not because I didn't have an answer.
Because I couldn't give it.
"…I can't say," I admitted.
That was a mistake.
My father's expression hardened instantly.
My mother leaned forward. "You can't—or you won't?"
"I can't," I repeated. "But I'm not running away."
My father let out a slow, controlled breath.
"You disappear for two months into training," he said. "You repair relations we assumed were already lost. And now you ask to leave—without explanation, without destination, without escort."
Each word landed heavier than the last.
"You understand," he continued, "how this looks."
"Yes," I said quietly. "I do."
"Then explain why we shouldn't assume the worst," my mother said.
I clenched my hands.
Because how could I explain a system? A hidden place beyond the world? A year-long absence required to repair damage done before I was even born?
I met her gaze.
"Because I'm asking permission," I said. "Not forgiveness. Not escape."
My father scoffed softly. "Permission to vanish."
"For training," I insisted.
"You are the heir of this house," he snapped. "Heirs do not simply vanish."
"And what happens," my mother added coolly, "to your fiancée? To the fragile trust you rebuilt yesterday?"
That hit.
Hard.
I swallowed.
"I won't break the engagement," I said. "I swear it."
My father's eyes bored into mine.
"Words," he said.
I bowed my head.
"I know."
Silence stretched.
Finally, my father spoke again—his voice lower now.
"You think we haven't seen this before?" he asked. "Young nobles who fail, then flee to 'train' so they don't have to face judgment?"
"That's not—"
"You think we don't know what it looks like when a boy decides he'd rather disappear than be measured?" His gaze sharpened. "I will not allow my son to become a coward."
The word stung.
Not because it was unfair.
Because it was accurate—once.
I straightened.
"I'm not running," I said firmly. "I'm preparing."
My mother studied me for a long moment.
"…How long?" she asked.
I hesitated.
Then told the truth.
"One year."
Her eyes widened.
My father laughed—once, sharp and humorless.
"One year," he repeated. "You expect us to simply wait while you vanish for a year?"
"Yes," I said. "If you trust me."
Silence crashed down.
Finally—
"No," my father said.
The word was absolute.
"No," he repeated. "You will not leave. Not without reason, not without protection, and not for a year."
My mother nodded. "If you are afraid," she said gently, "say so. We will help you here."
I clenched my jaw.
"I'm not afraid," I said.
"Then stay."
I looked between them.
At the parents I had disappointed in one life.
At the parents who had not given up on me in this one.
And understood—
They weren't being cruel.
They were being parents.
"I won't run," I said quietly.
"I believe you," my mother replied.
My father shook his head. "Belief is not enough."
The meeting ended there.
No shouting.
No punishment.
Just a firm refusal.
As I left the study, my chest felt tight—not with anger, but with the weight of an impossible choice.
That night, alone in my room, the system reappeared.
[NOTICE]
[PHYSIQUE REFORGING LOCATION REMAINS AVAILABLE]
[TELEPORTATION CAN BE INITIATED AT ANY TIME]
I stared at the panel.
"…They won't let me go," I whispered.
[UNDERSTOOD]
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
One year.
To save my future.
Or stay—and remain broken.
Outside, the estate slept peacefully, unaware that its heir stood at a crossroads no map had ever recorded.
And somewhere beyond the world, a place that did not exist waited patiently—
For the moment I chose to step off the path everyone else could see.