Emma lazily walked down the stairs.
It was still early morning, and she had only just woken up. Thankfully, she rembered where she was before wandering around half-asleep, so she had freshened up properly before coming down.
As she neared the dining hall, she spotted a few servants serving breakfast to the man seated at the head of the table. His wife occupied the seat to his left, the two of them chatting quietly.
Noticing Emma, Carter turned and greeted her warmly, "Morning, child. Did you rest well?"
Emma nodded lightly with a small smile. "Yes. Good morning."
At Adela’s urging, she took a seat, and a maid soon placed a prepared breakfast in front of her.
Her gaze drifted around the hall for a mont before she asked, "Has William not co down yet?" She had knocked on his door earlier, but there was no response, so she assud he must already be awake.
Carter chuckled. "That rascal is going through a strange phase. He’s doing sothing I haven’t seen him do in years."
Emma raised a brow, silently questioning him.
"He’s training in the backyard," Carter added.
Emma stiffened slightly at the revelation. As far as she could rember, no matter what event lay ahead, William never trained for it. He believed real battles were the only true teachers. Extra preparation, in his eyes, was aningless.
So hearing that he was training early in the morning ca as a genuine shock.
"Sothing must have happened during your visit to your hotown," Adela remarked, her brows lifting slightly.
Emma hesitated before shaking her head. "I think... he’s preparing for his first Dungeon Trial."
William had asked her to keep everything that happened at the Tower a secret.
She felt a little guilty, but if the Count learned that her father harbored suspicions toward William, Carter would have taken it badly. Anyone doubting his son was unacceptable to him.
Besides, she hadn’t lied.
William was preparing for a Dungeon Trial. The only difference was that he wasn’t seeking stars or recognition. He was seeking her father’s approval.
"His first Dungeon Trial, huh?" Carter muttered with a grin. "That’ll be interesting. A first dungeon always leaves its mark on a person."
Turning to Emma, he asked, "Which floor have you cleared so far?"
"The fourth floor," she replied. "But with a team."
Carter humd. "Of course, with a team. Who would go in alone?"
Emma froze mid-motion.
Realization struck Carter instantly, and before Emma could think of a way to explain—
"Phahahahaha!" He burst into laughter, slapping his thigh as he shook his head. "That brat! He’s really pushing his limits."
Adela frowned. "Dear, shouldn’t we be worried? Challenging a dungeon alone is practically suicide."
Emma silently agreed. But at that point, there was nothing she could do to stop William from making that choice.
After a mont, Carter cald down and said, "A warrior knows his own limits. No matter how reckless he looks, William is a good warrior, Adela. Trust his instincts and let him fly as he wishes."
Emma was quietly impressed by the Count’s faith in his son.
He cared deeply for William, yet never bound him with restrictions. And that was exactly why William admired his father so much.
A mutual understanding.
Emma let out a soft sigh and finally began to eat.
.....
William stood at the center of the garden, his white shirt clinging to his back, damp with sweat, strands of wet hair stuck to his forehead.
Under the morning sunlight, his skin seed to glow faintly, his presence sharp enough to unsettle the air around him.
Channeling aether had never been a problem for him. Partly because he was born with an affinity for it, but more importantly, because it was a necessity. If he ever failed to restrain his emotions and lost his grip over his energy, his secret would have been exposed to the world long ago.
Recently, that restraint had nearly shattered.
The fight on Island Beta flashed through his mind. The bastard who had nearly killed Emma. The mont he lost himself and unleashed Nyx.
That temporary surge of power had co at a cost. It awakened a hunger he had spent years suppressing.
This hunger was not unfamiliar.
Nyx existed everywhere, saturating the world around them. And when one was constantly starving while surrounded by an endless feast, the only thing preventing indulgence was self-control.
And self-control was never forged in a day or a week.
Through years of hardship and experience, William had learned the price of losing control. He knew exactly what would happen if he allowed that other side to take over.
Still, a quiet certainty lingered in his mind.
There would co a ti when he would be cornered again. And next ti, the world would be watching.
Dungeons were packed with unimaginable numbers of monsters, designed to break challengers both physically and ntally. This ti, every decision he made would be observed, weighed, judged.
Last ti, the sudden appearance of a Devil had diverted attention away from him.
That excuse would not exist again.
And so, he could not afford to lose control.
"What’s with that long face?"
William jolted out of his reverie at the sound of an aged voice behind him.
He turned instinctively—only to find empty space.
His senses scread.
He ducked just in ti, but a sharp kick caught his legs, sweeping them out from under him. He hit the ground on his side with an audible thud.
"Guh..." A grunt escaped him as he looked up.
Blocking the sunlight from his vision was an old man leaning over him, long braided hair hanging loosely as pale yellow eyes glared down with sharp amusent.
"You’re like a chicken," the old man said flatly. "Always falling for the sa trick."
William’s frown slowly curved into a smile. "There are so things about you that I’ll never understand."
The older man scoffed. "Here cos the excu—"
The word never finished.
In the sa instant, the ground shifted. William twisted his body, hooked a leg, and yanked. The world flipped for the old man as his balance vanished, and the next mont he slamd down beside William, their faces level.
Dust puffed into the air.
The blond teenager grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. "How can you assu you’re the victor until the battle is truly over... teacher?"
For a brief mont, silence hung between them.
Then the old man barked out a laugh. "Hah! Still got that sharp tongue, I see."
He rolled to his feet with surprising agility, brushing dust off his clothes. "But don’t get cocky. If I were serious, you’d be kissing the dirt a lot harder."
William pushed himself up as well, his smile softening into focus. "And if you were serious," he replied calmly, "you wouldn’t have left an opening that obvious."
The old man paused, then clicked his tongue. "Tch. Annoying brat."
Yet, the faint curve at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
°°°°°°°°°
A/N:- Thanks for reading.
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