Claude wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.
His other hand remained steady, gripping his sword tightly, its tip pointed at Theo.
"So, this is your limit?" Theo asked, his voice calm but laced with disappointment.
He stood upright, lowering his blade slightly as his sharp gaze pierced through Claude.
"Five years of training, and this is all you can manage? I expected more."
"Tch, of course not!" Claude snapped, his grip tightening on the hilt.
"I just… need a breath."
His words came through gritted teeth as he tried to regulate his breathing, his frustration visible in the crease of his brow.
At sixteen, Claude had been under Theo's relentless tutelage for five years.
He could still remember the day Theo had first handed him a sword at the age of eleven, deeming him "steady enough" to wield one.
But even now, the same question echoed in Claude's mind:
'Why the hell am I learning swordsmanship? I'm going to be a dark mage, not some knight.'
It was a thought he kept to himself. Theo was far too strict to entertain such questions, and Claude knew better than to argue.
Beyond swordsmanship, Theo had also insisted he master archery, as if preparing him for something far greater than he could understand.
"You know," Theo began, his voice breaking through Claude's thoughts, "an enemy isn't going to wait for you to catch your breath."
Before Claude could retort, Theo surged forward, his movements impossibly quick. His blade cut through the air, aimed directly at him.
Claude's instincts kicked in. He parried the attack with both hands gripping his sword tightly, the clash of steel ringing out through the forest.
Gritting his teeth, he pressed forward, forcing Theo to step back.
Their blades separated with a sharp clang, and Claude seized the opening, launching a flurry of attacks.
His strikes were quick and precise, but Theo dodged them effortlessly, his expression unreadable.
"Not bad," Theo said, his tone almost amused.
With a swift counter, he parried one of Claude's strikes, sending him off balance.
Before Claude could recover, Theo's blade was at his neck, the cold steel grazing his skin.
"Still not enough to beat me," Theo said with a grin, lowering his sword.
Claude rolled his eyes and sheathed his weapon, muttering under his breath as he dropped onto the grass.
He leaned back, gazing up at the sky, and let out a sigh.
"Tomorrow's the holy ceremony, isn't it?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
"What makes you think Mom will leave with me?" His gaze shifted to Theo, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
Theo placed his sword beside him and sat across from Claude, the weight of his next words evident in his posture.
"You need to bring her with you," he said firmly.
"No matter what it takes, she has to come with you to the north—to the Elysian Plains."
Claude's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "The Elysian Plains?" he repeated.
"Where witches live in peace? With daemons like me?" His voice carried a bitter edge.
Theo met his gaze but remained silent.
"Why did you lie to me?" Claude pressed, his tone sharp.
"You made it sound like it was just my fate to be born with dark power."
"But you know what would happen when you have an affair with my mom, don't you? You chose to make me this way."
"So why? Why do you want me to exist?"
Theo's shoulders tensed as he lowered his head, his fingers absently tugging at blades of grass.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
"You'll understand when you're older," Theo finally said, his voice soft but steady.
He looked up at Claude, his eyes filled with something close to regret.
"But Claude… I do love your mother. And I'm glad you're my son."
Claude froze, his breath hitching. He had never expected to hear those words. Not from Theo, not from anyone.
In his first life, his father had been nothing more than an absent figure, a shadow he barely remembered.
But Theo… Theo was different.
He wasn't just a father—he was a mentor, a constant presence, someone who had shaped him into the person he was becoming.
Warmth spread through Claude's chest, though he quickly masked it with a scowl.
"Ugh, don't say things like that," he muttered, wrapping his arms around himself dramatically. "It makes me shiver."
Theo chuckled, shaking his head.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, their conversation shifted to more practical matters.
They discussed their plans to move north. Claude knew he'd have to convince Dalia tonight—and the thought of it weighed heavily on him.
Eventually, they parted ways. Theo returned to his tasks, and Claude rose from the grass, he had a business he needed to attend.
As Theo's silhouette faded into the distance, Claude turned to the empty air and spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "Sun, show yourself."
From the darkness of his shadow, a form stirred, rippling as if the shadow itself had come alive.
A massive wolf, as tall as a house, emerged. Its black fur shimmered faintly under the moonlight, and its red eyes glowed ominously as it lowered its head in reverence.
"My Lord," the wolf rumbled in a deep, resonant voice. "What do you require?"
Claude crossed his arms, his sharp gaze fixed on the beast. Over the years, the Chaos Hounds had evolved.
Ever since the Holy Knights left, Theo had begun feeding him a lighter red liquid—something odorless yet faintly reminiscent of blood.
So Claude can begin giving them blood again for about two years, the creatures had grown stronger.
They had even learned to speak, starting like fumbling children and gradually mastering language under Claude's guidance.
Now, three years later, they were articulate, intelligent, and far more dangerous.
"I want an update on your pathetic mate," Claude said, his tone cold but tinged with curiosity.
"Has she given birth yet?"
Sun's ears flattened, and he lowered his gaze, his massive tail sweeping the ground behind him.
"Not yet, My Lord. But I believe it will be soon. And the child will live."
Claude stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… Good. I'm curious to see the result of a union between someone with a holy affinity and a dark affinity."
Sun remained silent, waiting for his master's next command.
"Have Moon and Star reported anything unusual from the town?"
Claude asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced toward the distant rooftops.
"They have," Sun replied, his voice steady.
"This year's Holy Ceremony will host a special guest."
Claude raised an eyebrow. "A special guest? Who is it, and is it someone I need to be cautious of?"
Sun nodded gravely. "One of the Seven Saints from Euthymia is expected to attend."
Claude's brows furrowed deeply. The Holy Ceremony was a significant event for the town, marking the appraisal of a child's mana and affinity when they reached sixteen to eighteen years old.
It was a grand occasion where teenagers paraded through the streets on white horses, dressed in pristine robes and crowned with the delicate buds of Serene Flowers.
The flowers would bloom when the appraisal was complete, symbolizing their potential.
While Claude had always dismissed the event as meaningless pomp, it presented the perfect cover for his escape.
With the town engrossed in preparations and celebrations, no one would notice him slipping away.
But the presence of a Saint complicated things.
"Why would someone so important come to a small, insignificant town like this?" Claude muttered, his tone sharp with suspicion.
"This doesn't feel right. I need to tell Theo immediately. We have to get out of here—tonight."
Without another word, Claude turned and began walking briskly toward Theo's home, which stood only a short distance from his own.
But as he approached the familiar wooden structure, he realized it was eerily quiet. Theo was nowhere to be found.
"Damn it… Where is he?"
Claude growled under his breath. He turned to Sun, who was still lingering in the shadows.
"Find Theo. Now."
Sun lowered his head in acknowledgment before melting into the darkness, his form dissolving as he leaped from one shadow to the next, vanishing into the night.
Claude exhaled sharply, his hand clenching into a fist. "I don't like this," he muttered to himself.
"I need to talk to Mom. We have to leave this town tonight. Something's coming, and I can't shake the feeling it's not going to end well."