As Leo entered his room, he immediately slumped onto the bed, trying to clear the chaos in his mind. The events of the previous day had left him overwhelmed. He remained in that position for two hours, taking deep breaths to center himself. Finally, with a renewed sense of determination, he retrieved the manual from his ring.
"The book is now fully unlocked, so where to start from?" he mumbled. He opened to the first page, his eyes scanning the text with a mix of excitement and trepidation. The flow of mana was described as traveling from the heart to the mana core in the navel region—an intricate process he was eager to master. The practitioner absorbs mana from the atmosphere into the heart, which then passes it to the brain. From there, it circulates throughout the body, gathering and storing energy in the core.
"That process is too long," he muttered, feeling a tinge of frustration. "Well, to gain power requires effort." With that thought in mind, he began practicing the techniques laid out in the book, following the instructions carefully.
Hours passed in focused silence, and soon Leo found himself immersed in the flow of mana. "Wow, I'm a natural at this," he exclaimed, not quite believing his own words. He could feel the energy pulsing through him as if awakening parts of himself he never knew existed. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed until he finally retired to sleep.
The next morning, a sharp knock interrupted his slumber.
"Who is that?" he called out, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Apologies for interrupting your rest, your highness," said the voice of a young maid, perhaps 27 years old. "His Majesty would like you to join the family for breakfast."
"Tell him to leave me alone," Leo replied, hoping to drift back into the comfort of sleep.
"Your Highness, he insists it's urgent. The table has been set, and they're waiting for you."
Sighing, Leo stirred in bed, "Huh... I'm coming. Let me take my bath first."
"Of course, your Highness, I'm waiting for you."
As he stood up, a sudden wave of vigor washed over him. "I'm on my way to becoming a stronger person—or should I say devil? It's not funny anymore; I have finally lost my sense of humor," he thought, grimly acknowledging the gravity of his situation.
He entered the bathroom and, within five minutes, emerged feeling refreshed. He went to his wardrobe, selecting a classic polo and shorts, opting for a casual yet dignified look. Stepping out of his room, he declared, "Lead the way."
"Yes, your Highness," the maid replied, falling into step beside him.
They navigated through the palace's dimly lit hallway, which felt dreary and lifeless compared to the lavish surroundings that awaited them. As they descended the grand staircase, Leo took in the beauty of the palace. Ornate chandeliers hung from lofty ceilings, and intricate tapestries adorned the walls, each telling a story of glory and power.
Upon arriving at the dining hall, Leo saw his brother Caesar nodding at him from the other end of the table. He took his seat at the opposite end, the distance serving as a barrier he preferred. Seated around the table were the Empress Florda, his mother, and his siblings: Crimson and his elder sister Tiffany, who was only a year older than Crimson.
Leo completely ignored the tension that hung in the air as he turned to his father and asked bluntly, "Why did you send for me?"
"I heard about your awakening yesterday," Caesar replied, an edge of concern in his voice.
"It's no big deal," Leo shrugged, trying to downplay it.
"For you, it may not be, but for the kingdom, it is significant."
"You must be happy with yourself?" Florda interjected, her tone laden with sarcasm.
"Yeah," Leo said flatly, pausing his eating to meet her gaze. "But have you all heard the latest rumor circulating in the streets?"
Tiffany finally spoke up, sounding worried. "Darling, it's just rumors; you shouldn't pay them any mind."
"But Mom, the rumor is even making waves at the institute! They say that in eight years, Dad should step down and allow me to take back my rightful birthright to the throne."
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone at the table stopped eating, their expressions morphing into various forms of disbelief, anger, or concern—except for Leo, the key figure in this unsettling topic.
"Leo, have you heard the rumors beforehand?" Crimson asked, his voice taut with anger.
"Yes, and what of it?" Leo replied nonchalantly.
"Why didn't you make any attempts to stop the circulation of such rumors?" Crimson pressed, his eyes narrowing.
"Well, I'm not the king, right?" Leo shot back defensively.
Caesar, sensing the rising tension, intervened. "Such things are trivial—they are just rumors and can't harm you."
"But they can affect his credibility and claims to the throne," Florda insisted, her brow furrowing.
"So what do you want me to do?" Leo asked, feeling cornered.
"Find a way to stop it," Florda urged, her frustration evident.
"It's above me," he replied, exasperated.
"You choose the side of your brother, not even your real brother but a step. He doesn't even possess the dragon bloodline flowing through his veins like that of your son—your own flesh and blood," she continued, her voice rising.
Ignoring her, Caesar pivoted the conversation. "Leo, do you have a practicing manual?"
"Yeah," Leo replied quietly.
"Where did you get it from? If it's from the street, it could be dangerous; I'll find a better one for you."
"Thanks, but I picked it up from the Treasury," Leo said, his tone indifferent.
"Wait—when did you get access to the treasury?" Caesar asked, suddenly alert.
"It was when I fainted there," Leo replied, his expression void of expression, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze upon him.
"What is the name of the manual?" Florda inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"That's not for you to worry about; focus on your kingdom," he replied curtly, frustrated by their incessant prying.
Her face contorted into a frown, and then, in a surprising outburst, Crimson stood up and slapped Leo across the face, lingering silence hanging heavily in the air. "That's not how to talk to your Queen! Don't ever try that again."
"Wow, that was hard," Leo said, rubbing his cheek, momentarily stunned as he stood up, looking around the table at the tense atmosphere that seemed to suffocate him.
"I can't stand this atmosphere," he declared, feeling an urge to break free. He turned to his brother, his voice steady but resolute. "I'm moving out of this place."
"And where will you go?" Caesar asked, his brow furrowing.
"I have money, remember?" Leo retorted, feeling his pulse quicken.
"But that doesn't give you enough reason to leave your home," Caesar insisted.
"Here isn't convenient anymore with all the power struggles. I don't even want to be king! Just let me pack my bags and leave." His heart raced at the thought of getting away from it all, away from the suffocating expectations and the endless political games.
The tension at the table felt palpable as the implications of his words hung in the air. Everyone was silent, each lost in their thoughts, contemplating not just Leo's decision to leave but the fractures forming within their family.
The noble dining hall, once a place of warmth and unity, now felt like a battleground, and Leo, weary of the conflict, prepared to take control of his own destiny.