There were two main motivations for Ross's decision.
The first was that even though he was sure his son was well aware of the dangers of the Awakening Ceremony, he wanted to hammer in the point that even the slightest mistake could be extremely costly.
The older man had made plenty of mistakes when attempting to awaken himself, after all.
Conversely, he also knew what to avoid should he ever receive a second attempt…
The second motivation lay with his declining health. These days, the simplest movement required a ton of effort and a bucketload of pain. Even the short walk between the door and the sofa had caused him no shortage of torture.
However, the pain stopped fazing him after a while… his resignation towards the event that changed his life palpable across his crippled features.
In any case, Ross did not know how long he had left, or if there was a probability of his injury suddenly worsening.
So, if he abruptly left this world, he needed to make sure Nico knew everything he should know. Ross didn't want his son to feel like he was keeping secrets from him because he didn't trust him.
The brown-haired boy's eyes widened slightly. "F-Father, it's okay. You don't need to force yourself. We can do this another time; it doesn't have to be today."
"No, I must. It is my duty as your father to prepare you for what you might face inside the Dungeon, and to make sure you don't end up the same as me… a worthless dreg of society…" Ross muttered the last part under his breath.
Nico gritted his teeth. It pained him to see his father reopening his old wounds for his sake.
The boy then released a conflicted sigh and waited for his old man to begin.
"I wonder where to start…" A distant expression appeared on Ross's face as he sighed.
"Before the Awakening Ceremony, I was one of the top trainees, assimilating all that my instructors taught me and making it my own. I did well in the duels and the Trial of Courage. Unfortunately, this led me to become a little too overconfident in my preparations for the Ceremony. Your Grandpa Knox, may he rest easy in his journey to the Great Beyond, certainly didn't help…" Ross chuckled fondly.
"Did Grandpa Knox stop you from training?" A curious look crossed Nico's features.
"Fates, no! My poor old man probably shaved a few years off his lifespan trying to get me to train." The older man cracked a sheepish grin.
Nico smiled at the thought of his grandfather trying to get his father to be diligent. While the boy had not personally met the man - he had died before Nico was born - just the few tales he did hear, made him feel as if he had known his grandfather his whole life.
A pang of sadness filled his chest. He wondered how his grandfather would have treated him and Charlotte if he were still alive.
'He'd probably spoil us rotten…'
Nico cracked a smile.
From the snippets of what his father had revealed in his childhood, he knew his grandfather to be a wealthy individual. Chances were the man most likely wouldn't have held back in showering him and his little sister with gifts.
"Your grandpa was not just a wealthy man. But he also had many connections, as well as a certain status within the public domain. Did you ever stop to think about how your gramps ever became so rich?"
"No…"
Nico's mind went into overdrive trying to understand the subtle implications in his father's words. If his grandfather was such an important individual, how come he never knew of it?
Unless… unless the information was so unbelievable that it could put him in danger, should he ever learn of it.
What other explanation could there possibly be for his father to withhold such information then?
The boy's shoulders tensed, awaiting his old man's next words. A seed of unease bloomed in his stomach.
Ross fiddled with his cane nervously, "I'm sorry to have kept this from you, Son, truly. But your Gramps and I are a part of the Nurorsk Family. Well … my old man was. I decided to leave that past behind, the day I and your mother wed." the crippled man's lips curled into a soft smile.
Nico blinked, his mind failing to comprehend what his father had just revealed.
A moment later his eyes widened into saucers, 'WHAT?! You're telling me I'm related to the family that owns the biggest conglomerate in the whole world?!!'
An expression filled with pure disbelief appeared on Nico's face.
Shifting his body slowly to get a better look at his son, a bitter smile graced Ross's face as he discerned the incredulity within his child's gaze.
"As much as I would like to deny it, I'm… afraid it's the truth. Before he passed, your gramps offered to use his position to help me become a low-level Merchant, but I refused." The crippled man tightened the grip on his stick, a storm of emotions flashing through his eyes.
"What the public doesn't know, Nico, is that the internal environment of the Merchant Association, and by extension my old man's family, is filled with constant strife and competition. Everyone has only one thought on their minds: how to increase their own personal wealth as much and as quickly as possible.
"There is no sense of family or belonging. Your uncle or brother would be just as likely to throw you under the bus as some random stranger. All just to further their aims. I didn't want you or Charlotte to grow up in such a rotten environment.
"Your Gramps left me with enough of an inheritance that I don't have to worry about money for the rest of my life. Add to that the funds your mother amassed as a Descender… we have no need for any extra wealth. My top priority was and still remains making sure you and Charlotte are surrounded by love and warmth. I may not be an incredible warrior, but I'll damn well make sure my kids can have the best possible childhood in this accursed world."
A heavy sigh escaped Ross's lips as he looked away, ashamed. His shoulders dropped, "I'm sorry, son. Please forgive your failure of a father from keeping this from you."
Nico's eyes trembled. "No! You're not a failure! You're the best father anyone can hope for," the boy moved to hug his old man's back.
Nico's chest blazed with a searing warmth. Just thinking of how much his father had sacrificed for him and his sister was enough to make him tear up.
Ross discreetly wiped his eyes and chuckled, "Alright, enough of such a depressing topic. My main reason for bringing it up in the first place was to warn you in case you succeeded in forming a core. The Nurorsk Family have a way of knowing if any of their descendants pass the Ceremony, and since you have their blood flowing through your veins, well… to put it mildly, there's a high chance of them finding you and trying to turn you into a Merchant."
"Thank you for the warning, Father." Nico nodded, a determined expression manifesting on his face.
He would be the one to decide what he would become in the future. 'Some people I've never met before will not have a say in the matter.'
"Ah, I almost forgot. I have something I want to give you. Can you retrieve it from the drawer over there?" Ross pointed with his cane over towards a cabinet beneath the broadcast.
"Sure."
With his curiosity now piqued, Nico followed his father's instructions. As he opened the drawer and fished inside, his palms met the smooth surface of a hand-crafted item. There were no ridges or uneven edges. It was flush across the whole surface.
From what his senses were transmitting to him, the item seemed to possess a hexagonal shape.
'I wonder what it is.'
As Nico retrieved the object from the drawer, his eyes took in what his father desired to give him.
'A wooden charm?'
Peering closer, the boy discovered a string tied to the intricately crafted charm. He held the necklace with the utmost care and returned it to his old man.
"Father, what is this?" Nico couldn't help but ask once he passed the wooden trinket over.
"This, my dear Son, is a good luck charm," Ross dangled the item before him. "I used to have a knack for crafting small things like this before my injury. Although I've since stopped, I want you to have this. Think of it as a memento that you can make use of in your darkest moments. With it on your neck, you'll always have a piece of me by your side. And… it should hopefully remind you that you are not alone. Not now, or ever."
Seeing his old man's face light up with a grin, Nico found himself grinning as well.
"Thank you, Father. I'll take great care of it!" He happily accepted the charm, slipping it around his neck.
"One last thing, Nico," Ross's expression quickly turned solemn. "Just like we did before the Training Camp, I want you to promise me that you'll give it your all. I also want you to promise me that you will do your best to avoid the Dungeon Boss. You can't face it by yourself. No one can."
Sensing the firmness in his father's tone, Nico's eyes hardened. The boy realised grimly that it was probably something his old man had previously done. He also guessed that the Dungeon Boss may have had a part to play in inflicting the persistent wound that still caused Ross so much pain.
"I promise!" Nico echoed solemnly.
"Good," Ross slowly stood with a groan. "I've kept you long enough. Get some sleep. It might be the last time you get to have such a luxury in the next week and a half."
Nico nodded, his features turning grave at the implication.
As he watched his father - who had declined his offer for help - leave the door, the boy looked back at his mother's portrait.
Embers of resolve burned within his maroon eyes.
'I will make you proud, Father... with Fate as my witness.'