*****
A man sat alone in a dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the walls.
The light was soft, not enough to illuminate the whole space but just enough to create a haunting atmosphere, where the darkness seemed to press in from all sides.
It was quiet, too quiet, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
The silence was thick, almost suffocating, yet oddly calming for the man who sat at the center of it.
His eyes were steady, calm, reflecting the flames' flickering dance, yet behind them, there was an intensity, a sharpness that hinted at the power he wielded, though it was kept under tight control.
"So, what do you think of Group 3?"
The question came slowly, but with authority, breaking the silence.
His voice was measured, calm, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—an unspoken expectation.
He did not look toward the figures in the room as he asked, but it was clear his words were aimed at them.
"I want to hear your thoughts."
The figures seated around him were shrouded in shadow, their faces hidden from view by the dim lighting.
They remained still, almost statuesque in their silence, though there was a palpable tension in the air.
Some leaned back in their seats, relaxed in posture but tense in their expressions.
Others sat more upright, their bodies taut, waiting for their turn to speak.
It was a scene of quiet observation, each figure playing their part in the ritual of respect, waiting for their moment to respond.
One figure, a woman, broke the silence.
Her voice was soft, yet it carried a certain firmness, a calm authority that demanded attention.
"Professor Ed, next is going to be Professor Eugene's fight, right?"
Her tone was curious, but there was an edge to it—an edge that suggested she already knew the answer.
She shifted her gaze to the man seated next to her, a middle-aged figure whose features were also obscured by the shadows.
Her eyes lingered on him, awaiting his acknowledgment, but her question was directed at the room as a whole.
"Yeah..."
Eugene's voice cut through the silence, barely a whisper, as though he was speaking to no one but himself.
He didn't bother to look up or acknowledge the others in the room; instead, he reached for an open book lying on the table and placed it lazily over his face.
The gesture seemed to signal that he was done with the conversation, at least for now.
It was almost a dismissal, an act that spoke volumes about his detachment from the events unfolding.
"Haaa....."
With a soft sigh, he shifted in his seat, adjusting his position to one of complete relaxation.
His body seemed to melt into the chair as he exhaled deeply, the tension in his muscles ebbing away as he sank deeper into the comfort of the chair.
"Let's see..."
Eugene thought to himself as his body continued to relax.
He closed his eyes, the book now fully shielding his face from the others, blocking out the light and perhaps, his own thoughts as well.
The silence returned to the room, this time feeling different.
It was no longer just an absence of sound—it was an absence of tension.
The others in the room, having grown used to Eugene's habits, allowed him his peace, their attention now diverted elsewhere, as if they were accustomed to letting him retreat into his thoughts.
They knew that when Eugene spoke again, it would be with purpose, and it would be when he was ready.
Then, a voice broke the silence once more.
The woman spoke, her tone steady, almost commanding, as she revealed the name that would change the atmosphere of the room.
"And your opponent is Student Lyrium Blackwood."
The words seemed to hang in the air, the name or rather the surname reverberating in the minds of those who heard it.
The room, which had been calm moments before, now felt heavy with a new tension.
Eugene's reaction was immediate, though subtle.
His body stiffened slightly, and the book that had been shielding his face trembled ever so slightly, as if in response to the name.
His eyes, still hidden from view, widened in surprise.
The surname seemed to strike him like a bolt of lightning, jolting him from his previously relaxed state.
His hands, which had been resting by his sides, clenched ever so slightly.
The tension in the room grew palpable, and the figures around Eugene exchanged glances, their surprise evident even though they, too, had known the significance of the surname.
There was no need for words—everyone in the room could feel the weight of the surname
"...Blackwood."
It was a name that carried with it an unspoken history, one that neither Eugene nor the figures in the room seemed ready to confront directly.
"Is he...?"
One of the figures—seated to Eugene's right—began to ask, his voice uncertain.
The words trailed off, unfinished, as if the question was too difficult to fully articulate.
The implication, however, was clear.
Everyone in the room was wondering the same thing, but none dared to speak it aloud.
The woman, whose presence had already commanded respect, answered the unspoken question with ease.
"Yeah, we've done a background check on him,"
She said calmly, her gaze fixed on Eugene, as though studying his reaction.
"Student Lyrium is indeed his son."
Her voice was firm, the words delivered without hesitation.
Eugene remained motionless, his expression unchanged despite the revelation.
His face, still shielded by the book, was a perfect mask of indifference.
He didn't want anyone to see the storm brewing behind his calm exterior.
His lips twitched slightly, just enough for those who knew him well to notice.
Beneath his mask of composure, Eugene was struggling to contain the emotions that the name had stirred within him.
"So, it's him..."
Eugene muttered, his voice barely audible.
The words slipped from his mouth like a whisper lost to the wind.
There was something soft in his voice—something that hinted at recognition, perhaps even a slight sadness.
His mind raced as memories flooded back, memories he had buried long ago.
"The kid you want me to take care of..."
He murmured again, his voice distant, as though speaking to himself rather than anyone else in the room.
A flicker of disbelief crossed his face, though it was gone before anyone could notice.
His thoughts turned inward, his gaze unfocused even though his eyes remained closed.
The surname, Blackwood, had dredged up old memories—memories he had never fully reconciled.
The pain of his past, the mistakes he had made, and the consequences of those actions all seemed to converge in that moment.
"Isn't it Henry?"
Eugene's voice carried a hint of confusion, as if the name had thrown him off balance.
A brief sadness crossed his face—a sadness that was rare for him, a crack in the otherwise unshakable wall he had built around himself.
His eyes, still hidden behind the book, betrayed the emotion he tried so desperately to suppress.
The sadness lingered for just a moment, a flicker in the stillness of the room, before it was replaced by a cold, neutral expression once more.
Eugene's face returned to its familiar mask, and the brief moment of vulnerability was gone.
It was as if the sadness had never existed at all.
The room, once filled with tension, returned to its eerie stillness, as though nothing had changed.
"You've been preparing for this moment, haven't you?"
The female figure asked quietly, her voice calm but edged with an understanding of the struggle Eugene was facing.
She knew better than to press him further, but she also understood the weight of the situation.
And in the quiet, shadowed room, Eugene remained silent, his thoughts racing as he prepared for the inevitable clash that awaited him.
*****
Too much yapping and explaination?
It's only for this chapter.
It's because I'm introducing new characters that's y.
And it's also hint...to you guys all..for the future chaps..
Well then..
Thanks for reading—!
Also there will be mass release on 4th of Feb.
Anyways my contract signing is taking forever.
The editors are enjoying their holidays.
Chinese New year and all..
Okay then.....
Bye...
Over and out—!