Chapter Ten: The Golden Cage
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The restaurant floated upon a soft golden glow, its high ceiling adorned with ancient engravings symbolizing the victories of the Kano Empire. The tables, crafted from polished dark wood, were reserved only for those who possessed a name… influence… or both.
Jimmy sat there—black hair, deep black eyes, and a thick beard that gave him the appearance of a man far beyond his years. Twenty-five, yet he felt as though his age weighed much heavier. Opposite him sat Liza Pharaoh. She was beautiful, with an unsettling stillness. Flawless white skin, hair that fell in disciplined black silk, and steady eyes that revealed nothing of what stirred behind them. She wore a simple dress… but it was the kind of simplicity owned only by those who had nothing left to prove.
Food was placed before him… but he did not taste it. His mind drifted, retreating from the restaurant into an old memory.
It was a quiet night. John sat beside him on the balcony, the cold wind stirring the curtains while the city shimmered in the distance. John offered a faint, mocking smile.
"I heard you stole the heart of a Pharaoh's daughter." He leaned in slightly, his gaze piercing. "How did you stand there… and take the blow for her?" He gave a short laugh. "Saved her from death? You're either brave… or a fool."
Jimmy sighed. "It was… an accident."
But John didn't laugh this time. He looked at him with a rare seriousness—the look of a brother who sees the end before the beginning.
"My elder brother," he said, his voice low and heavy. "Do not marry if you are poor."
Jimmy froze. John continued, his words as cold as a merciless truth:
"In our world, he who has nothing to offer will always remain subject to the hegemony of others." He gestured toward the city. "Love without power is an illusion. A golden cage… where you are used, then replaced."
He stepped closer. "Look around you, brother. Who respects a man without strength?" He paused, then spoke with lethal clarity: "We are a third-tier family. They… are a Super Family. The gap between us is wider than the gap between heaven and earth."
"Who will listen to a man who brings nothing to the table? Even love, in the end, follows power." He looked directly into Jimmy's eyes. "Yes, your love comes from the heart. But in the world of Path Masters, we learn from childhood not to seal our feelings… but to prioritize interest. The world is not run by hearts—it is run by authority and influence."
Then came the sentence that burned into Jimmy's soul:
"He who possesses neither is unloved… and worthless. Your value becomes conditional. You become… expendable."
John looked toward the sky. "The truth is, if you marry without power, you risk becoming a slave. Amass strength and wealth before you think of love. Love is not granted to the weak… it is leased until someone stronger arrives."
He sighed, giving Jimmy one last look. "But… you are already in this position. We cannot refuse a marriage proposal from the Pharaohs. To do so would be an insult." He placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "I ask you, as your brother—and I do not wish to see you broken—postpone the marriage."
He raised a finger. "Until you reach the Adept rank. I heard your fiancée is close to breaking through. Nineteen years old… a genius among geniuses. Make the engagement two years, brother. Try to break through in that time. Then we return to love… as equals."
"Jimmy?"
Liza's voice snapped him back to reality. The restaurant returned; the light, the plate before him untouched.
Liza looked at him calmly. "You're drifting."
Jimmy forced a small smile. "Sorry… it's nothing. I was just thinking… about our wedding in a year."
Liza's eyes sparkled. She placed her hand over his, her voice warm. "Yes, Jimmy… I truly love you. I can't wait."
Jimmy smiled back. But inside, John's words echoed like a tolling bell.
Love without power… a golden cage. For the first time, he wondered if he was sitting in a luxury restaurant… or inside that very prison.
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The black car glided silently through the wide streets of the capital. Dark glass isolated Liza from the world, just as she had long ago isolated herself from any illusion called weakness. She sat in the back seat, her back straight, her gaze fixed on the void before her. For a brief second—just a heartbeat—a faint smile brushed her lips.
"You are a terrible liar, Jimmy," she whispered soundlessly.
She closed her eyes and sighed. She wasn't angry. She wasn't afraid. She was simply… certain. When she opened them again, something cold and sharp moved within their depths—something that did not belong to the world of lovers.
"They will force me..." she thought. "The Runt family won't wait."
She clenched her fingers gently, and the air around her suddenly contracted, as if space itself felt the pressure emanating from her. A faint, murderous aura leaked from her body unintentionally, causing the driver to grip the steering wheel tighter without knowing why.
"I am sorry, my love." This time, the voice was internal, yet heavier than any spoken apology.
She loved him. This was not a lie. Her feelings for Jimmy were real, simple, and free of calculation… but those very feelings were, in the eyes of her family, worthless. The Pharaohs do not measure matters by hearts, but by results. They do not recognize love if it is not shielded by power.
She was not naive. She knew from the start that a Soul Contract—no matter how sacred it seemed—would not stop a third-tier family if they decided to rebel. It wouldn't prevent their greed or stop them from dragging Jimmy into the abyss if he faltered.
Thus, the alternative plan was ready. She lifted her head slightly, the light reflecting off her eyes, which burned with a terrifying coldness.
"I will kill them." It wasn't a threat. Nor was it a promise. It was a settled fact.
Everyone older than him. Everyone who might restrain him. Everyone who might use him as a bargaining chip. Even if they were his own blood. Even if it made him hate her one day. In the world of Path Masters, mercy is a luxury… and love without authority is a delayed crime.
She rested her head against the seat, and the aura vanished as if it had never existed. When she reached Jimmy, she would smile. She would look like the simple girl who didn't understand the complexities of the Great Families. But deep down, Liza Pharaoh had made her decision. Her duty as a Young Lady of a Super Family… always was, and always would be, above all love.
..
Robert walked with steady strides over the damp earth, his taut muscles moving in harmony beneath his skin, as if his body were forged for war and nothing else. Twenty years old, short black hair, eyes devoid of hesitation. A master of the Path of the Body.
This wasn't his first mission… but it was his first under the banner of the Pharaoh family. The Super Family that didn't always fight its own battles, but instead moved subordinate families from the third to the first tier like fingers in a single fist. Robert, as a direct subordinate, was part of that fist.
The team moving with him consisted of six Seekers, led by one man whose mere presence commanded silence: Sir Alex Ragg of the Ragg family, a second-tier house. His rank: Adept.
They were now on the outskirts of the Elven Forests. And the Elves were no blind beasts. They were intelligent, ancient beings standing at the top of the food chain alongside Path Masters. Their war with humans was not over land, but existence. The Elves required the flesh of Path Masters to complete their ascension rituals. Thus, coexistence was never an option.
Sir Alex stopped abruptly and raised his hand. The air compressed. He spoke in a low voice, sharp as a blade's edge: "Prepare for battle… they are ahead of us." He turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the team members one by one. "We will surround them."
He gestured. "Robert, Jackson, George, Mido… from the East. Direct assault." Then: "Mix, Nedo… from the West." Finally, he offered a cold smile: "As for me… I shall strike from above."
"Understood!" they replied in unison, then vanished.
Robert hid among the trees, his eyes scanning the area with the speed of a seasoned warrior. Thirty Elves. He noticed something important immediately. None of them had horns… except one.
Elf with no horns = Awakened. One horn = Seeker. Two horns = Adept. Three horns = Transcendent. Four horns… Legendary.
This meant the majority were relatively weak.
BOOM!
The attack exploded from all directions. The moment Robert moved, his body transformed. His muscles expanded, his bones emitted a muffled hum, and from his back sprouted two thick, fleshy wings. He propelled himself forward like a projectile.
He collided with the first group. His fist crushed an Elf's chest in an instant. A kick tore through the neck of another. His wing sliced through two bodies at once. Five… killed in a single breath. The rest fell in succession under a barrage of different attacks: blades, physical strikes, and varying Path techniques.
Only one remained: The Masked Elf. His body was pure white, wearing a tight black suit, with a smooth, featureless mask over his face. His single horn shimmered in the dark. He lifted his head and screamed with pure hatred: "You bastards—!"
He didn't finish. BOOM! Sir Alex descended from above like an execution itself. His broad axe came down in a single stroke… and the Seeker Elf's body was split in two. One strike. Instant death.
That… was the difference between a Seeker and an Adept.
Robert froze for a moment, staring at the scene with wide eyes. This was the first time he had seen an Adept fight up close. Pure power. Absolute dominance. He felt something stir in his chest. A desire. An ambition.
The mission continued. Scattered groups of Elves appeared—most of them Awakened, with the occasional Seeker. Blood soaked the earth, and the forest began to breathe with rage. As the day faded, darkness began to crawl.
Sir Alex raised his hand again. "We withdraw now," he said decisively. He looked at them one by one. "The tally: fifty-five Awakened… and seven Seekers." He added with grim seriousness: "The Elven Night begins now. Their activity doubles… and the Adepts will appear. We cannot handle them. We leave their territory immediately."
No one objected. In the world of Path Masters, knowing when to retreat is as vital as knowing when to kill.
Part IV: The Midnight Ambush
Sir Alex Ragg walked in the lead, his steps steady but his mind troubled. The Pharaohs… what the hell are they thinking? He gripped the handle of his axe, eyes scanning the shadows pooling between the trees. Sending us here so close to nightfall… it's suicidal. But I cannot refuse orders. A Super Family doesn't ask… it commands.
He exhaled sharply. It'll be a miracle if we make it out without facing at least one Adept.
BOOM!
The air tore apart. A sudden movement, swift as a lightning bolt, pierced the night under the light of a full moon. Suddenly, a tall-eared Elf appeared before Alex—eyes glowing green, wearing a tight blue suit, holding a slender sword that was almost invisible.
The attack was lethal. Direct. Without warning.
But Alex moved at the last possible second. BOOM! He raised his axe, parrying the blow in the final fraction of a second. A violent explosion shook the ground, and a shockwave rippled out, causing nearby trees to bend.
The group stopped instantly, hearts tightening. Then… he appeared. Another Elf, standing on a high branch, his body taut, and upon his head were two distinct horns. An Adept.
He looked down at them with eyes burning with fury, his voice piercing the forest like a death sentence: "You humans… how long will your stupidity last?"
He leaped to the ground with terrifying grace. "You attack our lands… and you aren't satisfied with killing one… or two… or even ten." He smiled a murderous smile. "Sixty. And you stay until nightfall."
He slowly lowered his gaze to them. "I will kill you… you fools."
BOOM!
He launched forward like a bolt of lightning. His movements weren't human. He was like a flickering flash, disappearing and reappearing, his sword leaving trails of burning blue light. Alex countered with his axe, each collision generating a small explosion that shook the air and cracked the earth.
Path of the Body… against Path of Lightning. Raw power… against lethal speed.
Robert stood frozen, eyes wide, his entire body trembling under the aura of the two combatants. The pressure alone was enough to suffocate a Seeker. This was the difference… between a Seeker and an Adept. It wasn't just a difference in strength. It was a difference in existence. Like the difference between the earth… and the sky.
And suddenly… BOOM!
Shadows appeared behind them. Then in front of them. Then on the sides. Ten Elves. Each possessing a single horn. Seekers.
The six team members looked at them in silent horror. Withdrawal… was no longer an option.
In the next moment, techniques exploded from both sides. Fire erupted. Lightning split the darkness. Beams of light flashed, and physical impacts shook the earth. The forest transformed into a festival of death. Fireballs collided with lightning; light pierced the shadows. Cries of pain mingled with the clashing of steel.
In the heart of it all, everyone realized one single truth: This was no longer a mission. It was a massacre about to begin.