Chapter 5: Escaped thoughts.

After two months of rigorous training under my guidance, Gregory has undergone a remarkable transformation, evolving into a formidable sparring partner. I must admit, I didn't anticipate such growth, and I am genuinely impressed by his progress.

During my meditative sessions, the aura I sense has strengthened immensely, becoming ten times more potent than before. It's clear that I need to acquire some family techniques to further enhance my abilities. However, my uncle is unlikely to grant permission. My best chance will be after the ceremony when I can speak to the patriarch.

The rate at which I absorb mana has doubled, especially noticeable at night. Throughout the day, I sense its slow accumulation, a significant improvement from the first month when the shadow aura was barely perceptible.

I've recently reached beginner level tier 3, inching closer to becoming a standard level weapon user. However, the progress feels slow, and it's frustrating to see how far I still have to go. I understand that many children from noble families had a head start, but life's inequalities can be exasperating. I refuse to simply sit back and complain; I'll continue pushing forward.

How else did a boy from the slums manage to climb the ranks until he became the top of the top? I chuckle to myself with a dark edge, reminiscing about my teenage years filled with hunger, beatings, and being trampled upon. This life now, it's a luxury, albeit a darkly amusing one.

I clawed my way to the top through manipulation and death, and I'll do it again if I have to. I'm not a nice person, and I find no qualms in admitting it. If whatever force brought me to this world had different intentions, then that's unfortunate for them—I'm not the good guy they might have hoped for.

Lying on the grass, I gaze up at the blindingly bright sky of a clear day, feeling nothing but disdain for the sun and its warmth.

"Hello, dear cousin," a voice disrupts my inner thoughts. I try to ignore it, hoping it will fade away.

"I know you can hear me." No such luck. With a sigh, I sit up to find a 15-year-old boy standing before me, his black hair and blue eyes resembling mine, staring as if I'm some bothersome insect.

It's my uncle's third son, Dalton, my memories remind me. The other two older brothers, Daniel and Damien, are already enrolled at the Academy. I can't help but internally shrug at their interesting naming convention.

Their sister is called Denice.

"What is it?" I respond impatiently. He gives me an odd look, likely because the last time he saw 'me' was a year ago, when I was a spineless fool.

"What's with you?... Like I care." He drops a small bag of coins on the ground beside me.

"Father expects you to be presented accordingly and not to embarrass the Shadowcrest name." With that, Dalton turns and walks away. I watch as he reaches the bottom of the hill, where his attendants bow to him before following.

How obnoxious.

I sigh, already feeling exhausted. Brushing off my clothes, I make my way to the teleportation circle to procure attire that will not "embarrass" the Shadowcrest name.

*

I observe my sisters, each displaying their charms like peacocks, while my father and brother eagerly suck up to the noble lords. Exhausted by the spectacle, I slip away from the corner where I had been hiding and make my way out of the hall. In this swarm of hundreds of nobles, my absence would go unnoticed.

As I walk through the grand halls, I can't help but marvel at the scale of the palace. I used to wonder how fairytales described palaces hosting balls for the entire kingdom, and now, standing in the castle of the House of Shadows, I understand. The opulence is staggering.

Searching for the room I share with my sisters, I continue down the halls, taking in the intricate architecture and haunting beauty of the place. Maxwell would be envious of this setting, I think to myself with a chuckle, imagining my husband's reaction.

*

The corner, once occupied by a captivating pink-haired beauty, is now taken up by a bored teenage boy.

Nathaniel observes the nobles as they all fawn over my uncle. Dalton is passionately narrating some tale, his entourage hanging onto his every word. The lady, whom I assume is Denice, stands tall, looking down on the other women. I suppose she has that right, being the sole female direct descendant of Shadowcrest.

I'm bored.

Then, I catch sight of a head of cotton candy pink hair, and my heart almost skips a beat. For a moment, she resembles Angelina.

But my mood quickly sours, and I decide to leave the ball.

Arriving at my small house, I try to compartmentalize all thoughts of Angeline by locking them away in a mental box. I mentally prepare myself for what awaits tomorrow.

In the House of Shadows, it's customary for fifteen-year-olds to venture into the Den of Serpents. The hope is to form a contract with a serpent as their contracted beast. Sometimes you emerge with an egg, other times a baby snake, and occasionally even a fully grown viper. It all hinges on what is drawn to you. There have been cases where people have met their demise in the depths of that place. So, it's definitely not a walk in the park.

It's certainly not a location for those with a fear of snakes. I've heard it's a vast swamp and cave brimming with all sorts of serpents.

Reflecting on my past, I recall the time when my wife had a torture room filled with snakes. I chuckle darkly at the memory of how she would throw certain individuals into a room filled with her scaly companions, letting them feast on the prey. She's insane, I think to myself with a mix of amusement and affection. That's why I love her.

With a sigh, thoughts of her manage to escape the box where I tried to lock them away.