Noah clasped his ntor’s shoulder gently, then headed out to collect Sand from where the other students had finished cleaning him up.
Sand looked marginally better after having the blood washed from his face, though the swelling and bruising were still dramatic. He could barely see through his blackened eyes, and his movents were stiff with pain.
They got into Noah’s GTR, Sand wincing as he settled into the passenger seat. Noah started the engine and looked at him expectantly.
"Give the address of your family’s estate. We’re settling this partnership arrangent today."
Sand provided the address through swollen lips, his voice thick from the beating. The location was in an exclusive area about forty minutes away, the kind of gated community where property values started at eight figures.
As Noah pulled onto the road and began driving, he reached into his storage ring again and withdrew a loaf of bread, holding it out to Sand while keeping his other hand on the wheel.
"Eat this. It’ll help you heal faster."
The bread appeared seemingly out of thin air from Noah’s perspective, materializing in his hand without any visible container or storage device.
Sand’s remaining good eye widened in shock, staring at the bread and then at Noah’s hand, trying to understand what he’d just witnessed.
’He can store items in dinsional space,’ Sand realized with growing certainty. ’Not just enhance his body or manipulate mana, but access actual spatial storage. That’s high-level magic that shouldn’t be possible on Earth.’
He took the offered bread with trembling hands, his certainty about the wisdom of following rather than disobeying Noah growing exponentially. Whatever Noah was, whatever power he’d tapped into, it went far beyond anything Sand’s family had ever achieved.
As he bit into the bread and felt warmth spreading through his injuries with imdiate healing effects, Sand understood that he’d made the right choice in the warehouse.
Opposing soone like Noah would have been suicide. Following him, however, might lead sowhere his family had never imagined possible.
The drive to et his father and negotiate their future continued in thoughtful silence.
***
Arriving at the family’s estate, Noah imdiately understood the scale of wealth Sand had been describing. The property was massive—sprawling grounds behind high walls, manicured gardens visible even from the gated entrance, and a main mansion that looked like sothing transplanted from European aristocracy.
As Noah’s GTR pulled through the gates and up the circular driveway, several security personnel imdiately took notice. Seeing their young master Sand stumbling out of the passenger seat with his face swollen and battered, clearly injured, the guards imdiately beca alert.
They surrounded the vehicle, hands moving toward concealed weapons, eyes locked on Noah with hostile suspicion.
They had never seen Noah before, which ant he was an outsider who had sohow brought their young master back in this condition. Sothing was clearly very wrong.
Sand imdiately raised his hands, wincing at the movent. "Stop! Stand down, all of you!"
His voice was thick and difficult to understand through swollen lips, but the authority in his tone made the guards hesitate.
"This is a great guest," Sand continued, gesturing toward Noah with obvious respect despite his injuries. "He’s not an enemy. I brought him here to et Father. Let us pass."
The guards exchanged uncertain glances but slowly backed away, though their hands off near their weapons but their eyes tracked Noah with wariness.
Noah didn’t acknowledge them at all. He simply walked toward the mansion’s entrance with confident strides, his posture relaxed but his presence radiating controlled power that made the experienced security personnel instinctively keep their distance.
Sand hurried to catch up, leading the way through ornate double doors into an entrance hall that scread old money and generational wealth. Marble floors, original artwork on the walls, a grand staircase with carved banisters, and crystal chandeliers.
Noah’s eyes remained normal despite the impressive scene before him. He took in the details—noting security caras, potential exits, the quality of construction that suggested reinforced walls—but his expression showed no awe or intimidation.
He was impressed internally, recognizing the level of resources this family had, but he wasn’t going to show it. That would be foolish and would weaken his negotiating position.
Besides, half of this family’s assets were going to be his from now on. Why should he be impressed by what would soon partially belong to him?
Whether the family liked the arrangent or not, it was happening. Either Sand died today along with everyone who had seen Noah, or Noah got exactly what had been agreed upon.
Noah understood he couldn’t be lighthearted about these situations. If he simply killed Sand now and left everyone else who had witnessed their arrival alive, he would be in serious trouble. Whether from governnt investigations when a billionaire’s son turned up murdered, or from the family’s own revenge efforts using their magical capabilities and financial resources, either way the hassle would be enormous.
So it was better to establish clear dominance and terms from the beginning, making cooperation the obviously superior choice for everyone involved. Clean resolution avoided ssy complications.
They moved through the mansion’s corridors, Sand leading despite his injuries. Servants and additional security personnel watched their passage with growing alarm, clearly recognizing that sothing significant was happening but uncertain what to do about it.
Finally, they reached a set of heavy wooden doors that led to what was clearly a private study or office. Sand knocked twice, then pushed the doors open without waiting for permission.
Inside, a man in his late fifties sat behind an imposing desk, reading docunts. He looked up as they entered, and his expression imdiately shifted from neutral concentration to shock and rage.
The man was clearly Sand’s father—sa bone structure, sa intensity in the eyes, but with silver threading through his dark hair and the bearing of soone who had wielded power for decades. His aura was considerably stronger than Sand’s had been, radiating the controlled might of a genuine rank 3 mage.
’Peak apprentice rank.’
Significantly more dangerous than his son, though still far beneath Noah’s master-rank capabilities.
"What happened to you?" the father demanded, rising from his chair with magical energy already gathering around his hands. His eyes locked onto Noah with lethal assessnt. "Who did this?"
Feeling a little cheeky, Noah decided to speak. "I did it. I was the one to beat your son to a pulp."
Sand’s father was outraged, his eyes wisening and his aura rising sharply.
Sand stepped forward quickly, positioning himself between his father and Noah. "No! Father, please listen. This is Noah Carter, and before you do anything, you need to understand—"
"I understand perfectly," his father interrupted, his voice dropping to deadly calm as power continued building. "Soone attacked my son and had the audacity to bring him here. That soone is about to learn why our family has survived for generations."
His gaze fixed on Noah with absolute certainty of violence to co.
"You made a fatal mistake coming to my ho, boy. Now tell —which would you prefer? A quick death, or should I take my ti teaching you the consequences of touching my family?"
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