Two weeks had passed.
I'd continued my training—polishing the basics with Kael, purifying my mana core, and reinforcing my mana veins.
At the pace I was going, I'd probably break through to Grade 2 before the tournament.
That would almost guarantee my victory against Elric, the protagonist.
Man, I was actually getting pumped.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," I said, keeping my voice steady.
The door creaked open, and my maid stepped in.
"Young master, the Head has called for you at the inner training ground," she said, her tone quiet and professional.
"You're dismissed. I need a moment alone."
She blinked—just once—but her hands paused over the linens she'd been adjusting.
Her eyes flicked to mine—briefly, not rudely—just long enough for me to catch the hesitation.
"As you wish, young master," she said with a respectful bow, though her voice held a faint note of curiosity.
She stepped back, her movements precise—yet something about them seemed just a little off.
The door clicked shut behind her, half a second slower than it should have.
What was that? Was she suspicious?
I stood still for a moment, eyes drifting toward the window.
Why the inner training ground?
Father doesn't summon people there without reason. It's not for meetings—it's for tests.
No time to overthink it.
Father was calling—and when he calls, you move.
I couldn't afford to keep him waiting.
I threw on a set of casual clothes and made my way toward the inner training ground.
Despite the name, it was more of a private backyard — closed off, out of sight, and strictly off-limits to outsiders. It was used when the Head of the house wanted privacy, not performance.
When I arrived, I spotted Father already there, dressed in simple training clothes.
As expected, his ever-present butler stood beside him, rigid and silent.
He really does keep that guy close, huh...
Then it clicked.
That look the maid gave me earlier—it wasn't suspicion about me acting strange.
It was about distance.
The previous Brad used to keep her around. All the time. Even during training.
He'd flirt—well, at least try—and bask in the attention. Probably thought it made him charming.
But now? I'd cut everyone off. No jokes, no smiles, no lingering glances.
Just focus. Just training.
And I guess people were starting to notice.
Huh.
I'd been so focused on getting stronger, I didn't even notice things like this.
Fuck it—who cares?
I'm not Brandy.
I'm not Krish either.
Even he wouldn't have ignored a beauty hanging around this close.
But I'm Brad Valemont now.
The one who will rise.
The one who won't get swallowed by someone else's story.
Man, that was cringe... even for me.
Alright, focus.
As I stepped onto the inner grounds, the air shifted.
Quieter. Heavier.
Father turned at the sound of my footsteps.
"So you are here, huh," he said, arms crossed, gaze sharp as ever.
That look he gave me—
Not exactly hostile, but not approving either.
Measured. Calculating.
Like he was trying to see something. Not just me—but whatever version of me had walked in.
I stood tall and nodded.
"Yes, Father."
He said nothing at first. Just looked.
His butler remained at his side, stone-faced as always.
Alright… this isn't just a spar, is it?
Something was coming, I just didn't know what yet.