"Hey, Michael! Don’t you dare leave me out of this!"

  Alina’s voice rang out, cutting through the clash of wooden swords. I pressed my blade against Lorin’s, my grip steady, even as my right arm moved instinctively to intercept another strike

  A second wooden sword met Alina’s with a sharp crack, stopping her mid-swing. The force of the impact sent vibrations up my arm, but I held firm. Alina grinned at me, her golden eyes flashing with amusement, the way a predator’s might when spotting an opening.

  Lorin smirked, not missing a beat. “Tch. Taking my portion now, Alina? How greedy.”

  I let out a grumble, shifting my grip on the sword. “You both can stop talking like I’m a damn meal to be divided.”

  Alina lunged at me, her wooden blade cutting through the air. I twisted to the side, just barely evading her strike, but before I could counter, Lorin was already on me, his sword coming down in a precise arc.

  I blocked it at an awkward angle, my footing slipping slightly. Tch. He had always been quick on the follow-up. I barely had time to reposition before Alina was swinging again.

  I ducked under her strike and countered with a quick thrust aimed at her ribs. She twisted out of the way at the last second, but I could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes.

  Before I could press the advantage—

  A massive shadow loomed overhead before something—or rather, someone—came crashing down between us.

  The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the training ground, dust and dirt bursting outward like an explosion. The force nearly knocked me off my feet, and I had to take a step back to steady myself.

  As the dust settled, a deep, rumbling chuckle cut through the air.

  “You three got lucky,” Darven Thrits muttered, his greatsword-shaped wooden training weapon buried halfway into the ground, the crater beneath him a testament to his strength. “If this little toothpick actually fit in my hand, you wouldn’t be standing.”

  I snorted, resting one sword against my shoulder. “Right, right. Blame the tiny weapon and not the fact that you missed.”

  Darven shot me a flat look. “...You wanna say that again?”

  We all stood there for a moment, tension crackling in the air.

  Then, as if by silent agreement, we all moved at once.

  Darven was the first to swing, his oversized wooden weapon sweeping across the battlefield with a sheer brute force none of us could match. I ducked under it at the last second, feeling the wind rush past my head as it nearly clipped me. Lorin and Alina leapt back, their reflexes just as sharp.

  I didn’t waste a second. I lunged at Darven from the right while Alina struck from the left. He lifted his sword to block, but I twisted my body mid-air and slammed my foot against his weapon, using it as a springboard to flip over him.

  While he was distracted by me, Alina managed to land a clean hit on his side.

  “Ha!” she grinned. “Got you!”

  Darven barely flinched. Instead, he pivoted with shocking speed, his weapon cutting through the air in a downward swing. I barely managed to raise my wooden sword in time to block, but the impact sent a shock through my entire body.

  I staggered, but Lorin was already moving.

  With the precision of a seasoned duelist, he aimed a quick strike at Darven’s exposed side.

  Darven caught it mid-swing with his free hand.

  “What?!” Lorin blurted.

  With a grin, Darven yanked Lorin forward and headbutted him.

  “Damn it—!” Lorin stumbled back, clutching his forehead. “You brute!”

  Darven only laughed. “Gotta use everything at your disposal, Lorin.”

  I didn’t give him time to gloat. I spun into an upward slash, aiming for his ribs—only for Alina’s sword to intercept mine.

  Her smirk was damn near infuriating.

  “You really thought I’d let you finish him off that easily?” she teased.

  I pushed against her blade with a grin of my own. “Wouldn’t be the first time I outpaced you.”

  Alina’s expression twitched—I knew that jab got to her.

  We locked swords again, our weapons clashing in rapid succession, the sound of wood striking wood echoing across the training grounds. Alina was fast, no doubt, but I had improved. Each time she tried to slip through my defenses, I was already a step ahead.

  Lorin, now recovered, rushed back into the fight, his sword swinging at me.

  I barely deflected, but before I could respond— A sudden gust of wind propelled Lorin’s blade forward at an insane speed.

  I barely managed to block, the force nearly sending me sprawling.

  “Oi, oi! That’s cheating!” I snapped, shaking my arms out from the impact.

  Lorin smirked. “Like I said… a wise man doesn’t rely on just one style.”

  I was about to charge again when an arrow struck the ground in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  We all turned toward the source.

  Standing a short distance away, bow across her back, was Kiara Turey. Her short-cropped brick-red hair had grown out just a bit, but her smirk was the same as ever. “Alright, idiots. Break time.”

  Beside her stood Cyris Frest, his white hair neatly tied back, expression unreadable as always. Unlike usual, he wasn’t holding his staff. But knowing him, he had at least five different spells ready to cast at a moment’s notice.

  Lorin and I exchanged glances before lowering our weapons, panting slightly. Kiara cupped her hands around her mouth. “Oi! Enough fighting! Get over here!”

  Darven and Alina, however, still weren’t stopping.

  Lorin and I exchanged glances before lowering our weapons, panting slightly.

  Darven and Alina, however, still weren’t stopping.

  “You fight like a one-armed ogre with a drinking problem!” Alina taunted as she parried a brutal overhead swing from Darven, her movements sharp and precise.

  Darven grinned, pivoting on his heel and swinging his wooden greatsword in a wide arc. “And you fight like a chicken with a broken wing!”

  Alina ducked under the swing and immediately went for a counterstrike, jabbing her wooden sword at his side. “That’s rich, coming from someone who swings his sword like a blindfolded troll!”

  Darven caught her blade with his free hand, his grin widening. “And that’s rich coming from someone so short she needs a step stool to reach my ribs!”

  Alina scowled. “Oh, you ass—!” She lunged, aiming to smack him in the stomach.

  Darven dodged, laughing. “What, can’t reach?”

  “You—!”

  Another arrow embedded itself in the ground between them. “Oi!” Kiara’s voice rang out. “Enough already! Get over here before I shoot at something more important.”

  Alina let out an exaggerated groan, lowering her weapon. “Tch. If I had a few more seconds, this idiot wouldn’t be walking straight.”

  Darven wiped his brow, still smirking. “Bold of you to assume I walk straight in the first place.”

  Alina smacked him on the arm. “I swear, one day I’m gonna—”

  “Enough.” She huffed, finally pulling away and walking toward the rest of us. Darven followed, still grinning like a fool.

  Lorin chuckled under his breath. “They’ll never change.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Yeah. And somehow, neither will we.”

  Meanwhile, Cyris walked over to Lorin and me, handing us each a piece of bread.

  “Eat,” he said bluntly.

  Lorin and I exchanged a glance before taking them. Neither of us questioned his tone—Cyris always spoke like that. It’d be weird if he didn’t.

  I patted his shoulder. “Thanks, Cyris.”

  Alina’s eyes sparkled as she saw the food. “Oh, you’re holding out on us?”

  Before Cyris could react, she lunged at him. He flinched but quickly pulled out more bread, handing her two pieces. Alina immediately bit into one while tossing the other to Darven, who caught it without looking.

  I glanced at the training ground, taking in the sight. Myttas had far better facilities than I remembered.

  I mused aloud, “I hate to admit it, but Myttas has better training grounds than I thought.”

  Lorin smirked as he took another bite of his bread. “Regretting leaving already?”

  I frowned. “Never.” I leaned on my wooden sword, scanning the training ground. The facilities here were better than what I remembered—sharper weapons, reinforced dummies, proper arena space. “…But,” I admitted, “I do need his help.”

  Lorin froze mid-chew. His expression turned wary as he swallowed. “Wait. His?”

  I nodded.

  His chewing slowed further. “You mean…”

  The shift in mood wasn’t lost on the others. They stepped closer.

  Kiara arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Why are you bringing him up all of a sudden?”

  I sighed, rolling my shoulders. “Because the guards won’t let me see him. They said my father’s on a business trip.”

  Alina clicked her tongue and nodded. “Well, makes sense. He’s a high-ranking noble. Probably drowning in paperwork or off negotiating some trade deal.” She leaned back slightly, tossing a casual glance at the sky. “Wouldn’t be a surprise if he wasn’t even in Myttas right now.”

  Darven snorted. “Or he just doesn’t want to see his son.”

  Alina didn’t hesitate. She thudded him on the shoulder with enough force to make him grunt. “Dumbass.”

  Darven rubbed the spot, glaring at her. “What? It’s not like I’m wrong.”

  Kiara sighed. “Could you not blurt out things without thinking for once?”

  I chuckled, breaking the slight tension. “No, it’s fine. I was thinking the same thing.” Then I turned my attention to Kiara as she swung her bow across her back and adjust her quiver. “Kiara, I thought you said you were finding someone.”

  Kiara startled looking at my direction and soon a smirk form on her face. “That’s why she is here, becau–”

  Not letting she finished, Lorin raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Don’t tell me you’re here for romantic reasons.”

  Kiara snorted. “Tch. As if. I’m looking for someone.”

  Darven scoffed. “Knowing you, it’s probably some poor bastard you want to shoot.”

  “Or someone she already shot and needs to apologize to,” Alina added dryly.

  Kiara rolled her eyes. “Wow. You guys are hilarious.”

  Cyris, ever the quiet observer, finally spoke up. “So… someone important?”

  Kiara crossed her arms. “…Yeah.”

  That actually caught my interest. Kiara wasn’t the type to talk about personal matters easily.

  I studied her for a moment before asking, “Should we be concerned?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. It’s nothing that serious.” Then she turned to the rest of us with a smirk. “But if you guys don’t hurry up, we’re gonna make our guest wait.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I exhaled, stuffing the rest of my bread into my mouth and dusting off my hands.

  “Alright then,” I muttered through a mouthful. “Let’s go.”

  And just like that, we set off together—just like old times.

  The streets of Myttas bustled with their usual liveliness, filled with the hum of traders calling out their wares and the rhythmic clatter of tamed beasts pulling heavy carriages.

  Stalls overflowed with goods, from fresh apples and pears to rarer mana-infused fruits like glowing berries and Fire-orbs, their faint radiance standing out even under the sunlight. The people of Myttas were as welcoming as ever, their demeanor warm yet disciplined.

  Crime was rare—almost nonexistent among the citizens. That was the result of the strict rule imposed by the Holy Pope, the one who governed this kingdom through faith rather than monarchy. Almost everyone here followed the kingdom’s religious teachings.

  Outsiders, however, were another story. They were the ones who most often found themselves in trouble, and when they did, the priests would claim they were being "educated in the virtues," rehabilitated until they could properly reintegrate into society.

  Fresh from a shower after training, I had changed into something far simpler than my usual adventurer’s attire—just a comfortable fabric shirt and pants.

  It was a rare moment of ease, though my mind still lingered on the unknown person we were supposed to meet. Kiara led the way, walking with confidence, though to me, it felt like we were going in random directions.

  I glanced back to see Cyris walking in silence, as usual, while Lorin, Darven, and Alina walked ahead. Alina, despite nearing thirty, was still as playful and energetic as ever. She practically bounced with excitement as she speculated on who Kiara’s mystery guest might be.

  Alina folded her arms behind her head, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “Come on, Kiara, don’t leave us hanging. What kind of man is he? Handsome? Rich? Mysterious?”

  Kiara sighed, shaking her head. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

  Lorin smirked, glancing at Alina. “She’s right, you know. What if it’s not a man?”

  Alina gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “A woman? Oh, Kiara, I didn’t know you had such… refined tastes.”

  Darven snorted. “You’re one to talk, Alina. You flirt with everyone.”

  "I do not!" Alina shot back, pointing a finger at him.

  "You literally just called the apple seller cute," Darven deadpanned.

  Alina scoffed. "That’s different. That was an observation, not flirting."

  Lorin chuckled. "Sure, sure. Just like how you ‘observe’ every attractive person we meet."

  Alina smirked, leaning toward Darven with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Wait a second…” she drawled, crossing her arms. “Are you… jealous, Darven?”

  Darven scoffed, rolling his shoulders. “Of what? You calling someone cute? Please.”

  Lorin grinned, jumping in immediately. “Oh, I don’t know, Darven. You sounded a little too invested in that argument.”

  Michael nodded thoughtfully, playing along. “Yeah, usually you don’t care who Alina flirts with. But this time…” He stroked his chin. “Very suspicious.”

  Kiara sighed but smirked slightly. “It’s okay, Darven. If you’ve got feelings, just be honest with yourself.”

  Darven threw his hands in the air. “I do not have feelings for Alina!”

  Alina gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “So I’m not your type?! After all these years?!”

  Lorin burst out laughing. “Ouch. Rejected in front of all of us.”

  Michael patted Darven’s shoulder with mock sympathy. “At least let her down easy, man.”

  Darven groaned, rubbing his temples. “I hate all of you.”

  Alina grinned, giving him a playful wink. “No, you don’t. You love us.”

  Our walk came to a stop in front of a stunning eatery. Its structure was made of white marble stones, and polished windows gleamed under the daylight. A wooden sign hung above the doorway, bearing the establishment's name in elegant cursive, while carefully trimmed bushes framed every window. Everything about the place screamed expensive.

  The moment we took in our surroundings, we all exchanged questioning glances.

  "Kiara… are you lost?" I asked, crossing my arms.

  Darven grunted, eyeing the place suspiciously. "This looks too high-class for someone like you to choose willingly."

  "Wouldn't put it past her to just walk in and hope we’d figure out the bill," Lorin muttered under his breath.

  Kiara, ignoring the skepticism, simply pushed open the door. "Quit worrying. Our guest already covered everything."

  Alina’s eyes immediately lit up. "Oh, I like this person already!" She clapped her hands together before striding inside like she owned the place.

  I was pleased, of course—who wouldn’t be when they didn’t have to pay? But my mind still lingered on the question: who exactly are we meeting that’s rich enough to pay for all six of us? This had to be a noble. But feeding six adventurers, especially ones with appetites like Darven and Alina? That was no small expense.

  We stepped inside, and the warm, inviting aroma of cooked meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. Alina took one look toward the kitchen, and I swore, if Kiara hadn’t grabbed her by the wrist, she would’ve raided it on the spot.

  Before we could go further, a young man in his twenties, dressed in a brown and white uniform, approached us. His green hair and black eyes stood out against his attire, and his posture was stiff, like someone still adjusting to the job.

  “By the Holy Faith,” he greeted politely, bowing slightly. “Do you need a table for six? There’s one open on the first floor. I can lead you there.”

  Kiara smiled and shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. We already have a reserved table. Under the name Alisa Kerin.”

  The man hesitated before scurrying back to the counter. He fumbled through some papers before straightening up. “Ah! Lady Alisa booked a table for seven on the second floor.”

  He rushed back to us, nearly tripping over his own feet as he gestured for us to follow.

  This guy… It was clearly his first day.

  Kiara waved him off gently. “It’s fine. We can find our way up ourselves.”

  The poor man looked like he wanted to insist but backed off, returning to his counter.

  As we walked toward the wooden staircase leading to the second floor, Darven chuckled. "Gotta admire his enthusiasm. Shame it was wasted on us."

  "He was cute though," Alina chimed in with a playful grin. "Like a loyal puppy waiting to be praised."

  I sighed. "I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult."

  Lorin smirked. "Knowing Alina, it’s probably both."

  The conversation shifted as we ascended the stairs. Though we had all grown stronger over the years, none of us had really taken the time for things like romance.

  Except for me.

  I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, smiling at their teasing but choosing not to comment.

  The moment we reached the second floor, Kiara suddenly raised a hand in greeting. "It's been a while."

  Seated on a wooden bench, gazing out at the bustling streets, was a woman. Her presence was calm yet commanding, and as she turned to face us, her features sharpened in recognition.

  "By the Holy Faith," she greeted back with a soft smile.

  I assumed this was Alisa.

  She was a striking woman, her stunning white hair contrasting against the golden hue of her sharp, discerning eyes. Though her face bore the faintest traces of wrinkles, suggesting she was slightly older than all of us, it did little to diminish her dignified presence. But what truly set her apart was the sharp point of her ears—an unmistakable sign of her elven heritage. This also explain Kiara and the employee didn’t mention her last name, elves never bare one.

  However, an elf in Myttas. That was rare.

  The kingdom wasn’t known for being hostile toward other races—open discrimination would be a disgrace to their faith—but it was still predominantly human. Myttas had long been called the Cradle of Humans, and seeing an elf so openly seated in an expensive eatery, carrying herself with ease and authority, was certainly a sight.

  It made me think of Sylas.

  Duke’s childhood friend. That kid was always a bright, lively presence around him. I had no doubt Duke would have fought tooth and nail to keep that friendship strong. I hope they're all doing well… And I was getting them back together, no matter what it took.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, I offered Alisa a polite smile and extended a hand. “Michael Caddel. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Alisa.”

  She took my hand with a light chuckle. “I didn’t expect to see a member of the Caddel family in a place like this.”

  I tensed a little at that, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. That name carried weight no matter where I went, and it wasn’t always comfortable.

  Noticing my reaction, Alisa quickly retracted, her expression softening. “Ah, forgive me. That was thoughtless of me.”

  I shook my head and took a seat. “No, I appreciate the understanding.”

  As the others settled down, one by one, they introduced themselves to Alisa—except for Kiara, of course.

  Once we were all seated, Kiara finally spoke. “Alisa is a high-ranking noble who’s agreed to lend us her influence in persuading Lord Rollad Caddel, and furthmore, some other noble as well.”

  “You what?!” Alina nearly leaped out of her seat, eyes wide.

  Lorin grabbed her arm and pulled her back down before she could start shaking the table. “Calm down.”

  “But—”

  “She’s still talking.”

  Alina huffed but crossed her arms and sat back, though her eyes were still burning with curiosity.

  Kiara continued, unfazed. “She’s also offering her help in finding Michael’s missing family.”

  That one made even Darven raise an eyebrow.

  I straightened, feeling the weight of her words settle in my chest. Without hesitation, I leaned forward and bowed slightly. “Lady Alisa, I cannot thank you enough for this. I don’t know how we’ll ever be able to repay you.”

  Alisa let out a quiet sigh and gestured for me to raise my head. “No need for all that formality, not here,” she said, amusement in her tone. “And as for repayment, I expect nothing.”

  That caught me off guard. My brows furrowed. “But that would be—”

  She held up a hand, cutting me off gently. “I insist. After all, this is something I owe Kiara.”

  Kiara?

  Before I could ask, Alisa leaned back, folding her hands in her lap. “A few nights ago, while I was returning to Myttas from a neighboring city, my entourage was ambushed by bandits. Even with my guards, we were overwhelmed. I was cornered, and things were looking grim.” She tilted her head slightly, an amused glint in her golden eyes. “Then this woman here arrived.”

  Kiara smirked as all eyes turned to her.

  “She saved my life, along with the remaining guards, and helped wipe out the bandits,” Alisa finished.

  “Wait, what?!” Alina bolted upright again. “That’s why you got back so late that night?”

  “Sit down,” Lorin muttered, pulling her down again.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Alina shot Kiara an incredulous look. “You casually saved a noble, and you just went to bed like nothing happened?!”

  “I was tired,” Kiara replied flatly.

  Alina threw her hands up. “Unbelievable.”

  Alisa chuckled at their antics before continuing, “At the time, we parted ways. But when I discovered Kiara was staying in Myttas, I sought her out to properly thank her. That’s when I learned of your situation, Michael.”

  She met my gaze, her expression sincere. “You’ve lost your family to those same bandits, haven’t you?”

  My throat felt dry. I swallowed before nodding. “Yeah.”

  Alisa nodded as well. “Then, as a token of gratitude for what Kiara did for me, I’ll lend you my influence. I will help you however I can.”

  I should have been grateful.

  And I was.

  But at the same time, deep down, something about this made me feel… useless.

  It wasn’t that I was too proud to accept help. I knew when to rely on others. But this wasn’t just a simple favor—this was my family, my responsibility. And yet, here were strangers, people with no obligation to me, going out of their way to help. I hadn’t been able to protect them. I hadn’t been able to find them.

  What kind of father was I if I had to depend on others for something so important?

  And then—

  I thought about Duke.

  That boy… even at such a young age, he had always shown so much empathy for others. He never hesitated to help, no matter how small or how important the task. He gave without expecting anything in return, and he never once let someone suffer if he could do something about it.

  I closed my eyes briefly. Ridiculous. Learning from my own son? How laughable. And yet…

  Maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous after all.

  Opening my eyes again, I exhaled slowly and straightened in my seat. No time for self-pity.

  I turned to Alisa and gave her a firm nod. “Then I’ll be counting on you.”

  "Come in."

  Alisa nodded to herself before pushing open the heavy wooden door. The hinges let out a faint creak as she stepped inside. I stayed behind for a moment, forcing myself to push aside the growing anxiety. No turning back now. I took a deep breath and followed.

  The study had not changed since I was a child. The walls were lined with towering bookshelves filled with neatly arranged tomes and scrolls. A large wooden desk sat at the center of the room, covered in stacks of parchment and ledgers. The air smelled of old books and polished wood, a scent deeply ingrained in my memory.

  Sitting behind the desk, meticulously organizing his paperwork, was a man I hadn't seen in years.

  Rolland Caddel.

  His gray hair was slicked back as neatly as always, his face clean-shaven, his formal suit pristine. He looked as composed as ever, not a single strand of his presence out of place. When his sharp eyes flicked up to meet Alisa's, he offered a polite nod.

  "By the Holy Faith, Lady Alisa." he greeted in his usual measured tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I rarely see you involved in local matters, so I can only assume this visit is of great importance."

  Alisa chuckled, shaking her head. "Sharp as ever, my lord. You would be correct in that assumption."

  She gestured toward me. "True that I, no, we, something to tell you. Come on in."

  The moment Rolland’s gaze landed on me, something in his expression shifted. The neutral mask cracked—surprise, recognition, then a deep-set tension. He slowly rose to his feet, his hands pressing firmly against the desk.

  "Michael…" he muttered, as if uncertain I was truly standing before him.

  I swallowed, keeping my posture straight. "Hello, Father."

  The weight of the silence that followed was suffocating. His expression hardened, and the warmth in his voice vanished.

  "I don’t have time for this," he said coldly. "I am busy today, and I will not entertain any more guests."

  I took a step forward, opening my mouth—

  "Get out! Before I call the guards!"

  His voice slammed into me like a hammer.

  I clenched my fists at my sides, glancing at Alisa for support. To my surprise, she remained calm, nodding at me instead of stepping in.

  "My lord, please listen," she said, her tone composed yet firm. "Michael is not here to cause trouble. He has returned because he is in need of your aid. His family has been taken by bandits. His son and daughter—your grandchildren—are in danger."

  Rolland scoffed. "And why should I believe any of this?" His gaze flicked between the two of us, suspicion clear in his eyes. "He abandoned this house years ago. Now he returns, expecting my help?"

  I clenched my jaw but let Alisa continue.

  "He is not here asking for himself," she said. "He is here because there are innocent lives at stake. Your bloodline, Lord Rolland." She narrowed her eyes. "Do you truly intend to turn your back on your own kin?"

  Rolland exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This is absurd. If this were true, Michael should have handled it himself."

  That was it. That was the last push I needed.

  I stepped forward, cutting in before Alisa could respond. "You think I haven't?" I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "You think I haven’t fought, bled, and risked my life for them already? I have done everything I can, and I would do more if I could!"

  Rolland scoffed, his expression darkening. "All that money I invested in you, wasted. You were supposed to be the pride of this family, yet you threw it all away!" His voice rose in anger. "Why couldn't you be more like Sarah?"

  I clicked my tongue. "Sarah?" My patience was wearing thin. "She didn’t return either! Why are you only blaming me?"

  Rolland slammed his palm on the desk. "Because she became an S-rank swordmaster! She teaches at the Holy Land of the Sword! Do you have any idea how much influence that gives the Reytus branch? And you? You went off gallivanting across the world, playing adventurer like some reckless fool!"

  My fingers curled into fists. "The only reason I never returned was because I couldn't stand your oppression! I sought my own path, my own happiness! I didn't want your help!"

  Rolland rolled his eyes. "Oppression?" He scoffed. "That was training, Michael. Do you think strength is built on kindness and ease?"

  Something in me snapped. My voice came out colder, sharper. "Did you ever even read the letters I sent you?"

  Rolland’s brow furrowed slightly.

  "Did you even care when Duke Hevas Caddel was born? When Clara Hevas Caddel was born?" My voice shook as I took a step closer. "Your own grandson and granddaughter, your own blood—did you throw my letters away without a second thought?"

  For the first time, his anger faltered. His lips parted slightly as he muttered, "Duke… Clara…"

  I let out a bitter laugh. "So you do recognize their names. And you still have the audacity to say your ‘oppression’ was meant to train me? If it was truly meant to make me stronger—" My breath hitched as old wounds surfaced. "—then Mom wouldn’t have been killed…*"

  The room fell into a deafening silence.

  Rolland's expression twisted in pain. "Enough!" he bellowed, his voice raw with emotion. His hands trembled as he lowered himself back into his chair. His face looked paler than before, his age suddenly showing in the lines of his features. "Don’t… mention Caera."

  He ran a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. "I tried my best to stop her death… but I couldn’t…"

  Silence stretched between us. My chest felt tight, my emotions a storm raging inside me.

  Then, Alisa’s voice cut through the quiet, firm and unwavering. "And now you have a choice, Lord Rolland." She stepped forward, her gaze sharp. "Will you make the same mistake again?"

  I took a breath, forcing myself to steady my voice. "I know I’ve made mistakes, Father. I know I left. And maybe in your eyes, that means I don’t deserve to be here now. But if you’re even half the man I used to look up to, then help me. Not for me. For them."

  Rolland remained silent. The tension in the air felt unbearable. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled.

  Slowly, he sat back down in his chair, his fingers intertwining on the desk. He was no longer glaring at me, no longer pushing me away.

  Instead, he looked tired.

  His eyes flicked toward Alisa, then back to me. "Duke and Clara," he murmured, as if saying their names to himself. His hands tightened. "Tell me everything."

  I blinked, the weight on my chest easing slightly. I nodded. "Everything started when…"

  And just like that, we talked.

  I told him everything I knew—the bandits, the struggles, the leads we had. He listened in silence, occasionally asking questions, his sharp mind already processing what needed to be done. Alisa filled in the gaps where necessary, but for the most part, it was just me and him.

  By the end of it, Rolland leaned back in his chair, a deep frown on his face.

  "I never thought I’d see you again under these circumstances," he admitted, shaking his head. "But… it seems fate has forced my hand."

  A long pause. Then, at last, he looked me in the eyes.

  "I will help you, Michael," he said. "Not for you. But for Duke. For Clara. They are my family too."

  A breath I hadn't realized I was holding escaped me. Relief flooded through me, but more than that…

  Something inside me healed.

  I wasn’t sure what this meant for us in the long run, but for now, my father and I were standing on the same side again.

  And that was enough.