SNARL.

Elric, now at the age of fifteen, was immersed in his hunting training, standing resolute before a young Shadow Panther.

“Now!” commanded Tip with a booming voice. Elric swiftly extended his spear in response to the sudden appearance of the Shadow Panther on his left side.

GROWL!

The wounded mana beast could no longer conceal itself in the shadows as blood began to seep from its body. Its yellow eyes glowed with a mix of ferocity and pain as it circled Elric, its tail lashing in agitation.

Elric tightened his grip on the spear, his senses on high alert. The forest echoed with the sounds of their confrontation—the rustling leaves, the distant whisper of the wind, and the tense breathing of both hunter and prey.

With a sudden burst of speed, the Shadow Panther lunged at Elric, claws extended. Elric sidestepped the attack with practiced agility, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp claws. He countered with a swift jab of his spear, aiming for the beast’s rear.

The panther yowled in pain, but its resilience showed with its immediate retaliation of deeply grazing Elric’s shoulder. Undeterred, Elric pivoted, bringing the spear down with calculated precision. 

As the Shadow Panther recoiled, he seized the chance to strike once more. His motions resembled a survival dance, each step a calculated response to the relentless assault of the creature. With a final, determined thrust, Elric executed a decisive blow, penetrating the Shadow Panther’s heart. A haunting growl escaped the beast before it crumpled to the forest floor. Elric stood there, panting, both victory and humility coursing through him due to the intensity of the battle.

Tip smoothed back his navy blue hair and observed with a blend of pride and concern. Despite it being only a few months since he began Elric’s training, Elric had shown exceptional growth. “Wow, your sense of instinct is amazing,” he said as he approached Elric.

Of course it is, thought Elric as he sloppily bandaged up his shoulder. I’ve had to deal with the attacks of a psychotic swordsman for the past four years.

“I still need to train. An adult shadow panther wouldn’t have fallen for such shallow strikes.”

Tip rolled his eyes at the young boy who could never accept a compliment. “Yeah, whatever. Hurry home before Serena chews my head off again.”

Elric paused in his shoulder bandaging. Tip has been visiting the inn a lot these days. “Hey…” he nervously began “do you have a thing for Aunt Serena?”

Tip’s face immediately reddened. “W-what?! No, I–” He sighed in defeat. “Is it that obvious?”

Elric grimaced. “What?! You actually do?!” There was no one good enough for his angelic aunt.

“What’s with that face? I’m not that bad!”

Elric’s face of disgust remained.

“Why you little–”

Just as the two were going to engage in a scuffle, a familiar tension filled the air abruptly. Their attention turned to the forest’s edge, where Serena stood with an intense, fiery gaze. “It’s two hours past dinnertime, and I come to find my nephew with a huge wound on his shoulder. Care to explain, Tip?”

Tip nervously gulped. “Ahaha… It’s nothing serious, just a small scratch.” 

“Small, you say.” Serena’s words were as cold as ice.

Tip shot Elric a desperate glance, silently pleading for assistance. However, Elric was too busy surveying a rock that looked a little too grey. 

“You just have to join us for dinner,” Serena said, her smile sending shivers as she firmly pulled Tip by the ear. “And you…” Serena’s stern gaze shifted from Tip to Elric. Unfazed by his aunt’s intimidating tactics, Elric was already on his feet, briskly making his way home.

Well, she was angelic most of the time, Elric mused.

*

After returning home and having dinner, Serena’s anger appeared to fade away. She focused on correcting Elric’s poorly done shoulder bandaging, all while Tip peacefully slept on the inn’s kitchen table.

“Seriously, Elric, you’ll be the death of me one day. It’s like you can’t avoid getting hurt,” she remarked in exasperation.

A heavy silence filled the room, and Elric hesitated, his remorse deepening as Serena’s concern heightened his guilt. After a moment, he finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry.”

Serena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before continuing to adjust the bandage. “I know you’ve become a young man now and are no longer a child, but it’s disheartening to see you continue keeping everything bottled up.”

Elric met her gaze, conflicted emotions evident in his eyes. “I know. It’s just…” His voice trailed off as he recalled Leonard’s monstrous strength and the dangers he had to shield his aunt from. “There are things I must hide from you.”

With the bandaging finally in order, Serena sat back, giving Elric a look of understanding. “We all have our secrets, Elric. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here to listen. You don’t have to carry the weight alone.”

Elric nodded in acknowledgement, and a compassionate smile touched Serena’s lips. “You smell like outside; wash up, then go get some sleep. I’ll take this one home.” She gestured to the still-sleeping Tip. 

As Serena and Tip left, Elric made his way into the washroom. His bare body hovered over the wooden bathtub, adorned with hundreds of scars—both new and old.

For four years, he had painstakingly hidden the wounds inflicted by Leonard, only recently using hunting training as an excuse for his countless scars and injuries. Leonard’s routine inspections of Vailee seemed to intensify since his initial visit four years ago. And, as if he closely monitored Serena and Elric’s parents’ schedules, Leonard made his presence known only when they were absent. Regardless of the unsettling motives behind Leonard’s actions, Elric was just relieved that his family remained unaware of the hidden struggles he bore,

Even if the weight of his secrets threatened to crush him.

* * *

The dining room of the Simmons Manor was extravagant. From the grand dining table to the glimmering crystal chandeliers hanging above, opulence was evident. However, despite the apparent luxury, a discerning noble eye would not find it challenging to detect its tackiness. The clash of vibrant colors, the over-the-top floral arrangements, and the ostentatious gold trim on the furniture created an atmosphere that bordered on gaudy. 

These were the thoughts of Alan, who had joined the Simmons family for lunch. 

“Once again, Countess, you’ve outdone yourself with organizing lunch,” Alan said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. He had lost his appetite. 

The countess, adorned in a lavish gown and expensive jewels, graciously acknowledged Alan’s compliment with a smile that revealed years of social grace and etiquette. “Thank you, Alan. It’s always a pleasure to have you at our table.”

“So, Alan, what did your father think about the engagement?” Count Simmons rudely interrupted. 

Alan faked a smile. “Father is ecstatic. He believes that the union of our families will bring about great prosperity.” Alan chose his words carefully. In truth, the enthusiasm of his father stemmed from the secretly discovered mana stone mine on the Simmons Estate. Count Simmons would never understand the potential, but Alan’s father, working with alchemists, did.

“Really? Then why hasn’t he sent a letter of agreement?” The count asked accusingly.

“Oh, it was nothing personal. It’s just that…” Alan quickly glanced at Amanda, the fourteen-year-old daughter of Count Simmons. “Lady Amanda has two more years before making her debut, and my father wants to abide by royal law. I was sent here to express his enthusiasm instead.” 

Blushing, Amanda averted her gaze. Alan Rubern was handsome, smart, and strong. But her? She was weak; her mana core was of a lower copper rank. In a world where only the strong survived, her cruel brother was one of the few that stood at the top. If someone like him heeded Alan’s words, just how formidable was Alan? If she became his wife…

The count, fully absorbing Alan’s words, displayed a dissatisfied expression. “Tsk. Isaac was always a stickler for rules,” he muttered, his eyes soon widening as he realized his inadvertent disrespect. “Ah, forgive me. I meant Count Rubern was always someone who favored tradition.” 

Alan responded with a forced laugh. “It’s alright; Father would be happy that you want our families to be united sooner.”

Nodding in approval, the count’s dissatisfied expression faded, being replaced by one of satisfaction. He had achieved his goal.

Alan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The count couldn’t even try to hide his greed. The motivation behind his eagerness to expedite the engagement between Alan and Amanda was clear—he sought an additional income source to prevent drowning in debt.

Looks like his initial plan to expand the Simmons Estate and desperately collect the taxes of new settlers wasn’t as effective as he hoped, thought Alan.

After waiting for the tiresome conversation to naturally end, Leonard finally interjected. 

“Father, that’s enough talk about engagement. We’ll take our leave now.” 

Count Simmons, still in good spirits after confirming the engagement, wasted no time in dismissing them. “Yes, yes, you may be excused.”

Alan rose from his seat next to Leonard, and together, they headed towards the grand hall that would guide them to the drawing room. Yet, just as Alan was about to exit the dining room, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

In front of him was Amanda, her green eyes carrying a shy expression. “Um, Lord Alan,” she softly began, “after your conversation with my brother, I was wondering if you would like to join me for a stroll in our garden. Peonies are especially stunning this time of yea–”

“Amanda.” 

Leonard’s deep voice and malicious gaze caused her to promptly shut her mouth and shake in fear.

Alan sighed at the weird family dynamic and then cast an affectionate glance towards Amanda. “It would be a pleasure to take a stroll with my future wife,” he stressed as he seized her hand and tenderly kissed its back.

Future wife?! Amanda couldn’t contain her excitement upon hearing those words. Yes, as long as it’s him, she thought. I can surely survive in this world.

Having left the enthusiastic young woman behind, Alan and Leonard proceeded to the drawing room.

“Geez, why are you always so hard on her?” asked Alan as he took a seat in the drawing room. 

Moving toward his hidden supply of alcohol, Leonard responded without turning around. 

“It’s disgusting to see the weak depend on the strong.”

Alan smirked. Leonard could only say something like that because he was ridiculously strong. “Okay, never mind that. Tell me what’s going on. You were painfully quiet during lunch.” 

Finally turning around, Leonard seated himself and set down two shot glasses. “That’s because I have a question.”

“Yeah? What is it?” asked Alan as he poured himself a drink.

“What do you do if your toy no longer shows emotion?”

Alan stopped pouring and raised a brow. 

Leonard continued. “The false sense of security worked in the beginning, but now they’ve just become stoic. It’s not fun anymore. Of course I don’t use full strength, and it’s interesting seeing how they’ll defend since they can’t attack, but that’s not enough.” 

A subtle smile formed on Alan’s face as he indulged in a sip of his drink. “Time.”

“What?”

“You’ve given them too much time to grow accustomed. Hurting them means nothing now.” 

Leonard sighed. “As expected. I should just get rid of them, right?”

Alan took another sip. “Yes, getting rid of them might be for the best, but what if you could bring them back to square one?”

“That’s possible?!” sputtered Leonard.

“If hurting them has lost all meaning, that means they’ve projected that meaning onto something or someone else. Just find it….” In a fleeting moment, too swift for Leonard to perceive, Alan’s eyes flashed a hint of red. “And destroy it.”

“Destroy it?”

“In the cruelest way possible.”

With pleased smiles on their faces, the two young counts concluded their conversation with a toast.