Ronan arrived at the Ashbourne mansion just as the afternoon light began fading.

Lucia received him near the entrance.

She looked composed at first, but when she saw him properly, her expression shifted.

There was worry in her face. It was restrained, but it was still there.

"Young Master."

Her voice was softer than usual as she looked over his body. She had surely heard about the duel, and was looking for any injuries.

Ronan smiled easily.

"I’m fine, Lucia. The healers handled the worst of it."

She did not fully believe him. Her eyes lingered on the faint bruises still visible along his jaw, and the slight shift in the way he moved. But she did not press.

"Lord Vulcan is waiting."

Ronan nodded, and Lucia led him deeper into the estate.

The silence felt heavier than usual as the two of them walked down the corridor.

When they reached the private meeting room, Lucia opened the door without entering herself. She stepped aside, gave him one last worried glance, then left.

Inside, Vulcan waited at the head of the table.

Irene stood beside him, arms crossed.

This confirmed Ronan’s suspicion. Irene had likely reported something.

Ronan took his seat calmly, greeting Vulcan with a small nod before acknowledging Irene with an even smaller one.

Vulcan studied him for a long moment before speaking.

"Congratulations on your victory."

Ronan inclined his head.

"Thank you, Father."

Internally, he waited.

He expected Vulcan to bring up the killing blow. The moment he aimed for Brutas’s throat.

But Vulcan did not immediately attack. Instead, his expression shifted into something more amused as he looked at his son.

"Your performance was... impressive."

Ronan paused. That caught his attention.

"Thank you," he repeated, more carefully this time. "I did what I could to preserve our family name."

Vulcan’s gaze sharpened, his eyes turning more analytical as he studied Ronan’s expression.

Then Vulcan laughed.

Not loudly or mockingly. Just a brief, dry laugh.

"I suppose you did," Vulcan said. There was silence for a bit before he spoke again. "You’re waiting for me to confront you about the end of the duel when you aimed for Brutas’s throat, are you not?"

Ronan did not deny it.

Vulcan waved a hand dismissively.

"I am not particularly concerned with that." Vulcan continued. "Whatever personal conflicts you have created inside the Academy are not my main concern, as long as you manage them without dragging Ashbourne into a position of weakness."

I doubt that. He’s probably looking into it right now. Not that I’m entirely against that idea. I also need to find out what’s going on there.

He gestured toward Irene.

"You have probably noticed that Irene is present."

Ronan acknowledged her again with his eyes. Irene actually struggled to keep his gaze for once.

Vulcan’s tone turned more pointed.

"Irene is concerned about you, or so she says. She believes you have been changing a little too fast, and would like me to question you.""

Ronan raised an eyebrow at that. He turned to Irene with a raised eyebrow.

Irene stiffened slightly but did not deny it.

Irene being concerned about him was not impossible, but it seemed out of character.

He had seen the visions of Irene’s protective instincts toward the original Ronan during the Soul Path ritual, but this still seemed random.

He’d have to talk to her about this later. Usually he didn’t go out of his way to talk to his sister, but he’d make the exception here.

Vulcan leaned forward.

"Tell me about the duel," he said. "First, the flame-displacement skill you used to evade Brutas and appear behind him."

Ronan answered smoothly.

"It was a skill taught to me by a peer at the Academy. An upperclassman who specializes in flame magic."

He did not name her.

Vulcan did not demand the name.

He accepted the answer without much interest, then moved on.

That’s good, Ronan thought. I had a person in mind, but then I would have to take drastic measures to make sure they answer how I want them to.

"And the skill you used near the end of the duel. The one that made Brutas stagger."

Ronan feigned ignorance. "What do you mean?"

Vulcan pulled out an artifact.

A recording crystal.

He activated it, and a projection appeared above the table. The duel played out in miniature. Vulcan skipped through the exchange efficiently, stopping at the moment Ronan raised his hand and Brutas staggered.

Ronan watched the recording calmly, not at all surprised by the crystal. The duel being recorded wasn’t all that impossible.

Vulcan pressed him.

"What did you do? Was it a skill? An artifact? A curse? Poison? A hidden rune? Some other external interference?"

His questions came quickly.

"Why did Brutas’s body react without visible impact? Why did the effect occur exactly when you raised your hand?"

Hiding this will be difficult.

Denying too much would look foolish.

Telling the truth was impossible.

So he used the lie he had already prepared.

Ronan sighed and admitted. "I used mind magic."

Vulcan’s expression shifted. Surprise.

Irene looked even more confused and surprised.

Ronan continued.

"I’ve been practicing it privately. The technique doesn’t do physical damage. It disrupts perception and focus for a moment, especially against a target already exhausted or mentally unstable."

He paused, then added.

"But, if you have any doubts, you can confirm my interest in the branch of mind magic by asking House Pollundini what skill I requested as compensation. I requested a mind-related skill, and this was before I was summoned here."

Vulcan was silent for a moment.

Then he nodded slowly.

"Show me."

Ronan met his father’s gaze.

Then he activated Soul Attack.

He directed a thin strike toward Vulcan’s soul.

Nothing seemed to happen.

Vulcan did not flinch. His expression did not change.

Ronan immediately understood the difference in level. Vulcan’s soul, mind, will, or mana defenses were far too strong for a low-level Soul Attack to affect properly.

The strike barely affected him.

Against Brutas, the effect worked because Brutas was wounded, overclocked by Second Wind, exhausted, and spiritually destabilized. But most importantly, Brutas was weak. He was rank 2, and the skill would work very well against someone as weak as him.

Against Vulcan, it was almost useless.

But Vulcan still sensed something, from the change in his expression.

He confirmed it."Mind magic."

Vulcan accepted the category. There was nothing to hide. Ronan was technically using "mind magic."

Vulcan leaned back.

"Mind magic is useful but politically sensitive. It creates distrust. Nobles dislike techniques that interfere with perception, memory, or judgment. If you intend to practice it, be careful where and how you reveal it."

Ronan nodded.

"I understand. I was already planning on doing so."

Vulcan’s tone shifted again.

"The duel has changed your position."

Ronan listened.

"Before, you were a weak and inconvenient son who had become useful only through sudden improvement and negotiation. Now you are far more visible. Other families will watch you. Pollundini will resent you, I promise you that, even if they do not show it. The Academy will evaluate you differently. Even the Ashbourne family will need to reassess you."

"I understand."

Then, Irene spoke for the first time.

"Why are you doing all this?" Her voice was more pointed than usual. She wasn’t trying to hide that she was suspicious of him. "The duel. Steel Bone Armament. The mind magic. The provocation. This is not normal from you."

Ronan looked at her.

He gave a calm answer that revealed little.

"I don’t think you know me very well, sister."

Irene didn’t respond to that, but she was studying him carefully.

"Though," Ronan said. "I think I’d appreciate it more if you spoke those concerns directly to me rather than calling an official meeting every time."

Irene flushed at that, but she still refrained from responding. He had a feeling she would talk to him personally later just because he said that.

Vulcan observed the exchange carefully.

Then he returned to the practical topic.

A topic Ronan was surprised he was bringing up.

"There is another matter. The Academy will announce it soon. Preparations are already circulating among noble families."

Ronan’s attention sharpened.

"A tournament."

Vulcan continued.

"It will not be a normal student competition. Every academy will be involved. It will be a continent wide matter. This means that there will be many eyes on you both. Do you two understand?"

Both of them nodded.

"I expect you both to perform well in the tournament. Understood?"

They both replied saying they understood.

Vulcan studied him one last time, then dismissed him.

"You may leave."

Ronan stood, bowed slightly, and left the room.

As he exited the Ashbourne mansion, he reflected on the meeting.

That had gone rather smoothly. It seemed like Vulcan was pleased at how Ronan was doing. From the memories he’d seen, it’s likely that Vulcan believed that the ’old Ronan’ was coming back, and would become the heir and become the son he’d always thought him to be.

Ronan’s lips curved faintly.

He was very wrong.