Aidan clasped Zane's shoulder briefly, offering a small, genuine nod. "Congratulations," he said, his voice even, carrying no bitterness—only sincerity.
Zane grinned wide, scratching the back of his head, but Aidan was already turning away, his footsteps measured and slow.
Behind him, the recruits swarmed toward Zane like moths to a flame, their excitement buzzing in the air.
Aidan didn't look back.
His hand brushed the hilt of his sword, still strapped firmly at his side—a familiar weight against his hip.
He entered the inner castle. The corridor stretched ahead—empty and quiet—the stones beneath his boots echoing each step.
The farther he walked, the heavier the silence pressed against him, like unseen hands dragging at his thoughts.
Aidan stepped into his room. The soft light of the afternoon sun slipped through the balcony doors, stretching across the polished floor.
He paused, his eyes lingering on the soft gleam of light coming from outside.
A thought came to him—how long had it been since he'd taken a moment to see his room like this?
After a breath, he turned his head to the left, toward the study table.
He stepped forward, eyes falling on the high piles of books stacked on the desk. Without thinking, he reached out, letting his fingertip glide over the topmost one.
Aidan sighed, his fingers slowing over the books.On any other day, he might've already been at the desk, leafing through pages—chasing fragments of this world's secrets.
The Dark Forest. The tomb of Titians. Places he had once traced to find the answer.
It pressed down on him—the weight of too many questions and no answers. And for the first time, he noticed it.
How narrow he'd become. How every step, every breath had been chasing only those distant answers he had no way of grasping.
Aidan rubbed his face, his palm dragging down slowly as if trying to shake off the weight of his thoughts.
His gaze drifted toward the bed where his sword stand stood... then further left—to the balcony, where sunlight still spilled across the floor. Too bright. Too far away.
He stepped forward, his hand grazing the hilt of his sword as he gently placed it back on its stand.
He stood there for a moment, his eyes lingering on the blade—silent.
Then, with a deep breath, he took a step back, his gaze wandering briefly toward the entrance.
Without a word, he turned and left the room.
For the first time in many years, Aidan did not try to find an answer.
He did not meditate.
He did not think about the infusion stage or how to become strong.
He wasn't searching for answers today—
He didn't care for them when he couldn't even understand himself.
Today, he simply wanted to understand what he was feeling. And why.
Aidan stepped out, but this time, he didn't head toward the library.
Instead, he found himself walking toward his mother's office.
He wasn't sure why, but something inside him urged him to see her.
Sophia sat in her office, sunlight streaming through the window to her right. She glanced at Viscount John, arching an eyebrow.
"What urgent matter brings you here, Viscount John? It's not often you visit the Wilson Estate."
Viscount John sighed, massaging his temples.
"Lady Duchess, you already know why I'm here. Count Caleb has been rejecting the land claim that falls under my governance."
He paused, carefully watching for any sign of dissatisfaction in Sophia's eyes before continuing.
"As you know, Count Caleb insists the land falls within his jurisdiction. After failing to reach an agreement with him, I had no choice but to seek Wilson assistance. Yet for some reason, my representatives have been unable to secure an audience with you—for over a year now. I had no choice but to come myself, after receiving no response."
By the end, his voice had risen slightly—something even he hadn't noticed.
"Is that so, Viscount John?" Sophia said, her voice calm.
Once again, that man—Count Caleb... She thought to herself, irritation flashing briefly in her eyes.
She opened her mouth and continued,
"Viscount John, do not worry. It's not that the Wilson House has been ignoring the matter."
"Count Caleb has only recently ascended to the third rank and become the lord of the Caleb family,"
She added, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "It seems he has already begun to forget his place.
But as you are aware, Viscount John— Even if he has forgotten... her eyes narrowed slightly... The Wilson House has not. It would take no more than a single word to end him. But even so, we intend to handle this through the Empire's laws.
"We are currently gathering the necessary proof to bring an end to his little play," she said, her voice calm and steady.
Viscount John gulped, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. When he had received no response from his representatives for months, he had begun to fear the worst— That he might have somehow offended the Wilson House.
But now it was clear: the problem wasn't him. It was Count Caleb.
What a pity, Viscount John thought. The young Count had potential, but it seems he will ruin his future over the little power he recently gained.
Viscount John offered a small, relieved smile. "It seems I had misunderstood the situation, Lady Duchess. Please forgive me if I've said anything out of turn."
Sophia gave a slight smile before saying, "It's understandable for you to be conc—"
A sharp knock interrupted her words, followed by the sound of Aidan's voice from behind the door.
"Mother, may I come in?"
Sophia frowned at first, displeased by the interruption. But upon recognizing the voice, her frown shifted to confusion.
That's Aidan? But shouldn't he be in his room, either reading or training his core?
Yet the confusion didn't last long. Whatever the reason her son had, it didn't matter—he came to see her. And for Sophia, that alone was enough.
Shaking off her thoughts, she softened her tone and said,
"Come in, Aidan."