Though Renn looked more refined than he did when Michael first saw him months ago, he was still as cheerful as ever. The moment he closed the distance, that same easy warmth resurfaced without restraint.
"Sir Mic, you’ve arrived," Renn said, stopping a step away, his eyes carrying genuine excitement rather than the reserved politeness most nobles defaulted to.
Michael inclined his head slightly.
"It’s great to see you."
Up close, the difference in Renn became clearer. It was not just posture or attire. It was refinement in presence.
Michael had heard of his connection to Grand Knight Veren, the same man who first taught him the classification of weapon skills. The one who explained that once a weapon user reached Advanced Mastery, they could begin touching reflective weapon Qi, the threshold where technique transformed into force.
And Renn had bee that man’s direct disciple.
Michael felt quiet satisfaction at the thought. For someone like Renn, that path could only bring benefits. And he was not wrong.
What Michael did not know was how much Renn’s status had changed because of it.
The Noah family, once a minor baron house, had undergone a quiet but monumental transformation. They now held three viscount titles. One for Renn’s father. One for his elder brother. And the third for Renn himself.
It was not just rank. It was influence. Standing. Political voice. All of it had shifted the moment Renn became the disciple of one of the kingdom’s peak powerhouses.
From a minor baron house to a rising viscount family.
All because one son caught the eye of a legend.
Uga’s grin widened as he stepped closer, eyes scanning Michael like a beast judging prey.
"Pretty boy," he said loudly, "I can sense it. You stronger now."
Michael’s expression did not change, though the corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
Uga jabbed a thumb at his chest.
"Fight me."
Renn’s smile faltered.
"Uga..."
But Uga ignored him, leaning forward with bright, unplicated intent.
"I might lose once," he declared. "But Uga no lose second time."
Michael could only smile helplessly and turn his head away, ignoring the invitation.
Uga blinked.
"Eh?"
Michael could tell he had grown stronger. Like Renn, far stronger than months ago. But Michael had not been stagnant either. He had gone even farther.
If Uga could not beat him back then, there was no chance now.
Arianne had been beside Michael the entire time atop her Flame Lion, silently watching the three men.
Had Michael not existed, one of the two before her might have been her fiancé by now, assuming her father approved. Fortunately, that was no longer the case.
Uga was self explanatory.
Renn was different. Refined. Well raised. Handsome in the way nobles admired. The kind of presence that would draw glances across the capital.
But pared to Michael...
Her gaze shifted briefly to the man in black armor.
It was not close.
She did not realize she had watched too long until Renn’s eyes flicked toward her. He paused, then smiled politely.
"My lady, pardon my manners," he said warmly. "Sir Mic, won’t you introduce your friend?"
Friend.
The word felt strange to Arianne. Not unwele, just distant.
Michael glanced at her.
"This is Arianne Evermoon. Duke Evermoon’s daughter. She’s part of the expedition."
Renn bowed deeper.
"An honor. I’ve heard of your talent with beasts."
"You’re Renn Noah," she replied evenly. "Grand Knight Veren’s disciple."
A flicker of pride crossed his eyes.
"It’s true. I’m still learning."
Uga had already lost interest.
He stared at Michael for two breaths, then clicked his tongue.
"Boring."
He stomped off, dropped near a wall, and leaned back.
"I sleep."
A palace attendant flinched.
Renn stared.
"Uga... what are you doing?"
Uga did not open his eyes.
"Only came because you said pretty boy ing. Don’t even know what gathering is. Sister said stay, so I stay."
He turned slightly toward Michael.
"Also... pretty boy fight me later."
Michael looked at him, then away with a helpless smile.
Arianne’s lips twitched faintly.
Michael was happy to see them. Yet beneath that satisfaction, something quieter surfaced.
Sadness.
Not because they had changed. But because he was beginning to understand something deeper.
When you became too much for others, everything shifted.
Even if the relationship began pure. Even if both sides tried their best, the gap could not be unseen.
His eyes drifted briefly to Arianne.
She was still beside him. But the stiffness was there. The hesitation. The measured distance.
It was not her fault. Nor his.
It was simply what power did.
The realization settled in him.
He had been circling an idea for a while. Now it felt inevitable.
The Land of Origin was vast, far too vast for him to confine himself to one corner forever. He wanted what it offered. Its resources. Its systems. Its people.
But he could not abandon what he had built here either.
The solution had always existed.
Genesis Body.
A skill he gained from his last evolution. It allowed him to create true clones, bodies that could carry his will and exist in different places at once.
One Michael could remain here, guarding his foundation. Another could walk the Land of Origin freely.
However, even if he wanted to do this, Michael’s current goal was to advance first.
Suddenly, a palace steward entered the gathering grounds.
His arrival was quiet, but it immediately shifted the atmosphere.
The nobles who had been sneaking glances at Michael and his group since their arrival turned their attention toward the newer.
The steward walked with practiced posure, stopping where all participants could see him clearly.
He bowed respectfully.
"Young lords and ladies," he began, voice clear but courteous, "your transport to the ruins is ready. We will be using an airship, so please be assured the journey will not take long."
Excitement surfaced among the nobles gathered.
The steward straightened and gestured politely toward the outer courtyard.
"If you would all please follow me, we will depart shortly."
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