Many months had passed since the day the news of the Duchess's pregnancy spread through the Blackthorne estate.
As her belly slowly grew, so did the warmth within the household.
For Aurelian, those months were precious.
He spent more time with his mother than ever before—walking with her through the sunlit gardens, sitting beside her during afternoon tea, or simply listening as she spoke about the past. Those moments, calm and ordinary, became his greatest comfort.
Aria von Blackthorne was happiest during those times.
She would sit beneath the flowering trees, one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach, silver hair shimmering softly in the light.
"Your father was terrifying even as a teenager," she said once with a quiet laugh, eyes distant with memory. "He challenged instructors twice his age and won without a scratch."
Aurelian smiled faintly. "I can imagine."
"He never smiled back then," she continued, glancing at him knowingly. "Not much has changed."
"That explains a lot," Aurelian replied calmly.
Aria laughed softly, covering her mouth.
At other times, she spoke of her own youth—how she had struggled to control mana, how forming her first magic circle nearly exhausted her for days, how the Magic Tower had once tried to recruit her forcefully.
"You were stubborn," Aurelian observed.
"I still am," she said proudly.
Those conversations filled Aurelian with warmth.
'This is what family feels like,' he thought often.
One afternoon, as they rested in the garden, Aria studied him carefully.
"Aurelian," she said gently, "you're close."
He looked up. "Close to…?"
"Your third magic circle," she replied.
Aurelian's lips curved slightly.
"I know," he said calmly.
Aria's eyes widened just a little.
"You felt it already?"
"Yes," he nodded. "The mana flow has stabilized. It's only a matter of time."
She exhaled slowly, both amazed and proud.
Days passed smoothly after that.
Training. Meditation. Conversations. Quiet laughter.
Then came the night when everything aligned.
---
That night, Aurelian sat cross-legged on his bed.
The room was silent.
Candles flickered gently, their flames bending as mana stirred the air. Aurelian closed his eyes, shutting out the world.
Mana gathered.
It flowed toward him in visible streams, like mist drawn into a vortex. His breathing slowed as he guided it carefully, compressing, refining, shaping.
Sweat formed along his temples.
His heart pounded.
Steady… he thought. 'Don't rush.'
The pressure inside his chest grew heavier, denser. His existing magic circles vibrated faintly, responding to the surge.
Pain followed.
A dull, crushing pressure wrapped around his heart as mana attempted to carve a new path.
His teeth clenched.
'Almost…'
His thoughts flickered—memories of training, of blood, of his parents, of the future he refused to lose.
'This is only the beginning.'
Mana surged violently.
Then—
It settled.
A new magic circle etched itself into existence around his heart, glowing briefly before stabilizing.
Aurelian gasped sharply, falling forward as his breath came in ragged bursts.
"…Third Circle," he whispered.
His entire body trembled, but the pain was gone—replaced by clarity.
Mana flowed more smoothly than ever.
Stronger.
Deeper.
He sat there for a long moment, staring at his trembling hands.
'So this is it,' he thought. 'I'm still far… but I've stepped forward again.'
He stood slowly, legs unsteady, and made his way to the bath. Warm water washed away sweat and exhaustion. By the time he returned to bed, his mind was clear.
That night—
He slept peacefully.
---
The next morning, Aurelian headed straight for the garden.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves as birds chirped softly. His mother sat on a cushioned chair, sipping tea, her expression serene.
The moment he stepped closer, Aria's eyes sharpened.
She froze.
"…Aurelian," she said slowly.
He stopped.
"Yes, Mother?"
Her gaze traced him carefully—his posture, his aura, the subtle shift in mana around him.
"You formed it," she said softly.
Aurelian smiled.
"Yes."
For a second, Aria simply stared.
Then she stood up abruptly and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I knew it," she said, voice trembling with joy. She kissed his forehead gently. "At your age… I had only just formed my second circle."
She pulled back, eyes shining.
"You're ahead of me," she said proudly. "Far ahead."
Aurelian felt warmth spread through his chest.
"I'll keep moving forward," he said quietly.
"I know you will."
They sat together again, speaking of lighter things.
Then Aria spoke gently, "Your sibling will be born before your age ceremony."
Aurelian looked at her. "The ceremony…?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Every noble child participates. That's when element affinity awakens and potential is measured."
She explained calmly, patiently.
"Potential ranks range from F to SSS. Each rank has variations—SS+, SS, or -SS, for example."
Aurelian listened carefully.
"Your father," she said softly, "possesses -SSS potential."
His eyes widened slightly.
"And me," she continued, smiling, "SS."
Aurelian lowered his gaze.
'No one else in the continent reached the SSS series,' he thought. 'Father really is… something else.'
"I'm proud of both of you," he said sincerely.
Aria smiled warmly.
After a while, Aurelian stood.
"I'll return to training," he said.
"Don't overdo it," she replied gently.
"I won't."
He bowed slightly and left.
---
Aria remained seated, watching his retreating figure.
Her smile slowly faded.
'His talent surpasses mine,' she thought. 'At this rate… he may even surpass Alaric.'
Pride warred with fear in her heart.
Demons were moving.
Organizations were stirring.
'They won't leave him alone,' she realized. 'They'll come for him.'
She clasped her hands together.
"Please…" she whispered. "Protect my son."
Then she turned.
"Maria," she called softly.
A maid stepped forward immediately. "Yes, my lady?"
"Inform His Grace," Aria said calmly. "Tell him Aurelian has formed his Third Circle."
Maria bowed deeply. "At once."
---
The knock echoed through the Duke's office.
"Enter," Alaric said.
Maria bowed. "A message from the Duchess, my lord. The Young Master has successfully formed his Third Magic Circle."
The room fell silent.
Then—
"…Good," Alaric said quietly.
Maria bowed again and left.
Sebastian, standing nearby, allowed himself a rare smile.
"That's remarkable," the head butler said. "At his age…"
Alaric stood, gazing out the window.
"Prepare countermeasures," he said calmly.
Sebastian nodded.
"They will come," Alaric continued. "Demons. Cultists. Anyone foolish enough to reach for him."
His eyes hardened.
"Even if I must stand against the entire world," he said coldly, "no one will touch my son."
Sebastian bowed deeply.
"Yes, my lord."
Outside, the world of Noctyrr continued its slow, ominous turn—unaware that a calamity was quietly taking shape within the Blackthorne bloodline.