Kael stood there long after Arthur had gone.
His hands were clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms—but the anger burning through him wasn't aimed at Ray.
It wasn't even aimed at Arthur.
It was aimed at himself.
I couldn't say a word.
Not when it mattered.
Not in front of him.
The same way it had always been.
Kael swallowed hard. His chest felt tight, heavy with a familiar, bitter frustration. He had wanted to say it—to tell Ray he didn't need to go, that the Academy was a viper's nest, that Arthur's interest was never harmless.
Ray, you don't need to do this.
The words sat on his tongue.
And he forced them back down.
Because how could he say that—
when he had spent his own life resenting the choices made for him?
How could he deny Ray the right to choose his own path?
I'm his father, Kael reminded himself grimly.
Not his jailer.
He had to let Ray decide.
And once Ray decided—
Kael would stand behind him. Guide him. Protect him.
Even if it meant sending him straight into danger.
Nora, however, wasn't built for that kind of silence.
Her hands were shaking when she turned to Ray, eyes already wet.
"Ray, you can't go," she said, voice breaking as it rose. "That place is dangerous. The Academy—it's full of powerful people, politics, monsters wearing human faces."
She stepped closer, clutching the edge of the bed.
"You've already been hurt," she whispered desperately. "So badly. I don't want you to get hurt again. I don't want to watch you suffer like that ever again—so please… just stay with us."
The room trembled with her fear.
Ray listened.
He didn't interrupt.
Didn't look away.
He heard every word—the love, the terror, the helplessness behind them. He understood it better than anyone.
And it hurt.
Because part of him wanted exactly that—to stay here, to pretend yesterday was a nightmare, to live quietly on borrowed peace.
But another part of him—colder, clearer—knew why he was here at all.
This world didn't pull me in by accident.
It's moving. Pushing.
Correcting.
Just as Ray opened his mouth to speak—
Kael stepped forward.
"Nora," he said quietly.
She turned to him, eyes red. "Kael—"
"It's Ray's choice," Kael said, voice firm despite the tremor beneath it. "And as his parents… we have to respect that."
Her lips parted in disbelief. "You can't be serious."
Kael met her gaze, pain written plainly across his face. "I don't want this either. But he's grown. And this is his life."
He turned to Ray then, and for the first time since Arthur's arrival, his voice softened completely.
"Whatever you choose," Kael said, "I'll support you. I'll guide you. I won't abandon you—not to that place, not to him, not to this world."
Nora's shoulders shook.
Ray felt something tighten in his chest.
Not fear.
Not dread.
Resolve.
He looked at them—really looked—and then spoke, quietly but clearly.
"I don't want to go because I want power," Ray said. "And I don't want to go because I trust him."
He took a slow breath.
"But if I stay… this won't stop. It'll just come here instead."
Silence followed.
Ray met Nora's eyes. "I'll come back. I promise. And I won't let myself break again."
Nora broke first—pulling him into her arms, holding him like she could anchor him to the room by sheer will alone.
Kael closed his eyes.
The choice had been made.
Arthur stood just beyond the threshold of the room.
He hadn't left.
He had never intended to.
Leaning lightly against the corridor wall, hands folded behind his back, he listened to the voices inside—muffled, raw, unmistakably human. When the decision was finally made, when the weight in the air shifted from hesitation to resolve, a faint smile curved his lips.
His eyes were closed.
Not in relief.
Not in triumph.
But in quiet certainty.
As expected.
He opened his eyes slowly, crimson glinting beneath half-lowered lashes. There was no surprise there. No satisfaction either—only confirmation, like a theory proven correct.
Arthur turned away without a sound, his steps measured as he descended the tower corridor.
Behind him, the door opened.
Nora was the first to step out, wiping at her eyes, refusing to look back. Kael followed, his expression set, jaw tight—but when his gaze flicked briefly down the hall, he felt it.
That presence.
Arthur was already gone.
The door closed again.
Ray exhaled and leaned back against the pillows, the room suddenly too quiet. His body felt… strange.
Light.
No—
Full.
His brows knit together as he focused inward, instinctively reaching for the familiar sensation at his center.
And froze.
"…Huh?"
His mana core pulsed in response—stable, dense, overflowing.
Ray's eyes widened.
"That's… way bigger than it was."
Not a little.
Not slightly.
It felt double.
The flow was smoother too, the recovery rate humming faintly beneath his awareness like a second heartbeat.
He swallowed, disbelief giving way to a dry laugh.
"…Well," he muttered, rubbing at his forehead, "yeah. I guess that something to be happy about."
Soul deterioration. Survival. Reconstitution.
He remembered the pain—bone-deep, soul-rending, the kind that rewired something fundamental just to endure it.
"Going through one of the worst pain imaginable tends to come with benefits," Ray said quietly to the empty room.
The thought sobered him.
So this is the price.
Outside the room, far down the hall, Arthur paused mid-step.
For just a fraction of a second—
He smiled again.