Clyde's gaze locked onto his father's face, watching for a reaction.
For a brief, fleeting moment, he entertained the thought—Would he listen?
Would the Duke, his father, acknowledge what Wilhelm had said?
Would he look at Clyde—not as a disgrace, not as a failure, but as someone with value?
But the hope was short-lived.
The Duke's face twisted into an expression of barely restrained fury.
"Fall as far as to become a magical engineer?"
His voice was sharp, filled with biting disdain and his fingers curled into fists at his sides.
"No one in my family will stoop to such a lowly profession as long as I am the head of this household!"
The words hit Clyde harder than he expected.
His father didn't even hesitate.
Wilhelm, however, was undeterred.
"Duke Mewdew, you do not understand the gravity of what I am telling you. Your son is exceptional. If you cast him aside like this, you will be throwing away a future that could—"
He said, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Enough."
The Duke's tone was final, his authority absolute.
With a single step forward, he grabbed Clyde's wrist with a vice-like grip.
"This discussion is over."
Clyde flinched but didn't resist.
He cast one last glance at Wilhelm.
The older man simply watched him with an unreadable expression—calm, composed, as if he had expected this outcome.
Then the Duke pulled him away, his strides long and furious.
Clyde stumbled slightly as he was dragged down the dimly lit corridors, his father's grip tightening as they went.
The torches lining the stone walls cast elongated shadows, flickering as they moved past.
The silence was suffocating.
His father didn't say a word, but Clyde could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.
Finally, they stopped in front of Clyde's room.
The door swung open with force, and Clyde was shoved inside.
"You will not leave this room until our guests have gone."
The command was cold, emotionless.
Then the door slammed shut.
Clyde stood there for a moment, staring at the wooden panels.
He wasn't surprised.
Not really.
He knew it wasn't Wilhelm's words that had angered his father—it was his pride.
The Duke could not bear the idea of his son, his bloodline, taking a path that did not involve power, glory, or the battlefield.
A magical engineer?
To his father, it was as good as being a common craftsman, an existence not befitting nobility.
Clyde exhaled quietly and sat on the edge of his bed.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
No nanny came.
No guards checked in.
The day passed slowly.
He had been abandoned before, but this time, it felt deliberate.
By the next evening, hunger gnawed at Clyde's stomach.
His father had truly meant it - to be alone in his room. But surely his father did not mean for even the servants not to come to him?
No food.
No servants.
Nothing.
It wasn't punishment—it was neglect.
A quiet, cruel message that his presence no longer mattered, even if it was unintentional at his father's part.
Clyde wasn't particularly upset.
He had long since learned that affection was not something he would receive from this family.
But survival was another matter.
He needed to eat.
Slipping out of his room, he moved cautiously through the castle's halls.
The estate was massive, an intricate maze of stone and opulence.
Servants bustled about in the distance, but none paid him any mind.
That was when he heard them—
The guards.
Standing near an archway, casually chatting as they leaned on their spears.
"I heard the Duke's finally done with the kid."
"Tch. Took long enough. He was a damn nuisance anyway."
"You know, if he disappeared, no one would care."
One chuckled darkly.
Clyde's stomach twisted.
Not because the words hurt—he had already known how little he mattered—but because of the ease with which they spoke.
As if he were already dead.
He exhaled quietly and turned away.
He didn't care, not really.
But still…
His feet carried him forward before he could think twice.
Away from them.
Away from the castle.
______
The castle grounds were vast, and Clyde found himself wandering deeper into unfamiliar corridors.
Stone archways twisted into unfamiliar halls, and soon, he realized—
He was lost.
A flicker of annoyance passed through him, but it was quickly replaced by a more pressing concern.
Footsteps.
A few guards patrolling nearby.
Clyde ducked behind a stack of crates, pressing himself low to the ground.
He needed to get out of here before someone noticed him.
His eyes flickered to a nearby supply wagon.
The wooden cart was covered in cloth, crates stacked high.
A perfect hiding spot.
Without hesitation, he slipped inside, tucking himself between the cargo.
He stayed still, listening.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Finally, he felt the cart lurch forward.
The realization hit him too late—
It was moving.
Clyde's breath caught in his throat.
The wheels rolled over cobblestone, the familiar sounds of the castle fading into the distance.
Wherever they were going—
He was going with them.
He peeked out cautiously.
The landscape was changing.
The castle walls were gone.
Open fields stretched out beyond the dirt road.
The people in the wagon had noticed him.
And they were not happy.
"What the hell?!"
A rough-looking man with a scar on his cheek pointed at him in alarm.
"Where'd this kid come from?"
Another man groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Damn it, don't tell me we just kidnapped some noble brat."
Clyde stayed silent, watching their reactions.
They were debating.
Some wanted to take him back.
Others said it was too late.
One even suggested throwing him off the wagon.
Before things could escalate, a new voice cut through the commotion.
"Enough."
A man at the front of the wagon shifted, standing up.
Broad-shouldered.
Confident.
A warrior's presence.
He turned, meeting Clyde's eyes.
"Who are you, kid?"
Clyde knew better than to answer truthfully.
He blinked up at the man with feigned innocence.
"I don't know."
Lies were easy.
The men groaned in frustration.
But the leader—the one in the front—just chuckled.
"You don't know, huh?"
Then, without warning, he grabbed a steel sword—
And bent it with his bare hands.
The metal screeched as it twisted like soft clay.
Clyde's eyes widened.
It was like something out of a comic book.
"My name is Gorgon, a Hero candidate. And you, kid, just got yourself into something interesting."
The man introduced himself.
His grin was sharp, wolfish.