CH201 The Weight of a Father’s Teachings
By the next morning, Allen Holder, his new student Udara, and a re-disguised Alex exited Warlton City’s gates in a merchant caravan similar to the one that had brought them there.
This time, they headed in a different direction from their arrival town, eventually reaching another resupply town along the trade route to and from Warlton City, where they quietly left the caravan.
A short hike into the nearby woods brought them to a small clearing. Moments later, the wind howled as two lesser wyverns descended and landed before them. Two men dismounted from the beasts.
Although Allen didn’t bother with introductions, and neither man wore a concealing cloak, their quiet, shadowy demeanour told Alex exactly who they were—members of Black Mantle.
The lesser wind wyverns were noticeably faster than gryphons, shaving nearly half a day off the return trip to the Northern Dankrot Barrier Fort.
Even so, Alex preferred gryphons. The wyverns might have been faster, but they had none of the comfort. By the time they landed, he could barely feel his face... or his buttocks.
Unfortunately for him, there was no time to recover. Before the numbness had even worn off, he found himself dragged into yet another meeting—this time with just his father, Jared and Lord Marshall Lawson.
Earl Drake didn’t waste a second before dropping a heavy bomb into his hands.
"In light of your recent performance, I believe I can entrust you with handling the Kellerman aid request... and the possible invasion."
Alex managed—barely—to keep the curse in his head and out of his mouth.
As the saying went, no good deed went unpunished.
All he’d wanted was to prove his worth as his branch’s heir, and potential future heir to family itself. If he’d known it would land him on the front lines of a potential war, he might have toned down his performance.
"Father, this is a matter that affects the future of the family. I do not think it proper to leave it to an inexperienced youth such as myself," Alex said, keeping his voice calm but firm.
"Don’t worry. We have already established that you are not like any youth your age," Earl Drake replied smoothly, a teasing glint in his eyes as he deliberately threw Alex’s own words back at him.
Father and son locked eyes. With every passing moment, the tension in the room grew heavier. Lord Marshall Lawson, Dark Knight Jared, Dawn Thief Allen, and Shadow Dancer Udara all felt it pressing down on them.
"Are you sure you can bear the risk of me losing everything you’ve worked for?" Alex asked.
"I thought you wanted to usurp what is mine and claim it for yourself. How can you do that if you can’t handle something as simple as this?" Drake countered without blinking.
"I never said I wanted to usurp it now. I clearly said it would be in the future—when I was strong enough," Alex protested.
"Time waits for no one. Neither do your enemies," Drake replied, his voice calm but edged like a blade. "If you can’t handle something this simple, what makes you think you can usurp my throne at any time in the future? You won’t even be able to claim it if I handed it to you."
"There is a time and a place to test me, old man," Alex growled, edging dangerously close to snapping. "This isn’t just about us power players anymore—this will affect the people who are beholden to us! We cannot let them die for no reason!"
"They will not be dying for no reason," Drake shot back. "They will be dying in order to train their incoming ruler.
"If a leader—a ruler—cannot bear the crown, his people will suffer. Whether that suffering is before or after makes no difference."
"This is madness, old man!" Alex finally snapped.
"No. This is FURY, boy!" Drake roared back.
At once, both father and son’s eyes burned with a deep, intense crimson. The air between them seemed to crackle as if a red spark had formed in the space separating them.
Even in the heat of his emotions, Alex never forgot one simple fact—he stood no chance against Drake in raw power. So, instinctively, he leaned on something in which he did hold an edge.
Fortunately, there were no pure-blooded Furor Bloodline possessors present as father and son silently clashed—not with weapons, but with the sheer purity and strength of their bloodlines.
The secret of Alex’s bloodline purity wasn’t revealed.
Drake’s bloodline had been excavated and refined through years of training and battle. Alex, however, held the advantage in raw purity. His bloodline was not only exceptionally pure, but had also become a unique fusion unlike any other.
For a full minute, Alex held his ground against the oppressive pressure of a Legendary Furor Bloodline possessor. Only then did his resistance begin to falter under the crushing weight.
Drake wasn’t disappointed. Quite the opposite—the smile on his face widened.
This short exchange had proven the extreme purity of Alex’s bloodline... and, more importantly, the vast potential of the path he had chosen to walk with it.
Unfortunately, under the influence of Calm Madness, that smile carried none of a proud father’s warmth. Instead, it was the grin of a murderous predator sizing up his next kill.
Udara’s wild instincts screamed at her, every fibre of her being telling her Alex was in mortal danger. She could no longer remain calm.
Jared, noticing her movement, was immediately on guard and preparing to step in.
Fortunately, before either of them acted, Alex stepped back, breaking the clash.
He dropped to one knee.
"I accept your order, Father."
By Fury law, as the loser of a bloodline clash, he had no choice but to obey.
Still, for Alex, this had never been about winning—he knew he couldn’t. It was about making his stance clear.
Drake eased out of the Calm Madness state, then gestured to Lord Marshal Lawson.
"A divisional unit of 5,000 strong has been prepared for you," the Lord Marshal announced. "You are to assume full command and lead them to retake the Empire territory raided by the Wildkins, restoring it to civilised rule."
He glanced toward Alex and continued, "The division includes five experienced Commanders and dozens of veteran Colonels. It will also have the support of Saint Jared and a company of his heavy-armoured Knight Brigade."
Alex’s eyes flashed faintly, his furrowed brows loosening a fraction.
"I accept the order," he said flatly.
A moment later, he calmed himself enough to ask, "Is there a plan in place in the event the Kellermans do attack?"
Lord Marshal Lawson smiled faintly. "We’ve made arrangements. All military posts in the territory are on alert. Similar to your unit, we’ve dispatched others to patrol the more obscure parts of Fury lands where we could be flanked or caught off guard."
"Have the other Fury lords been informed?" Alex asked.
"No," the Marshal shook his head. "We haven’t told them the exact threat—only that there’s a possible assault on Fury lands. Most will likely assume it’s a Wildkin raid.
"It’s not ideal, but it will still make them raise some of their defences."
Alex nodded slowly in understanding.
Until the Kellermans actually moved, the Fury family could not openly accuse them of anything. And in that danger, there lay an opportunity—one the Mad Earl and the high command clearly intended to exploit.
Unfortunately, few in the family were sharp enough to take advantage of such a situation. That was precisely why the matter was kept quiet.
As the saying went—beware not the powerful enemy, but the foolish ally.
"We’ll have an action strategy prepared for you within a day or two. After that, your unit will depart immediately," Lord Marshal Lawson concluded.
"Understood," Alex replied with a curt nod.
With that, Alex turned and left the hall, Udara silently falling into step beside him.
Earl Drake no longer bothered to hide his amusement and let out a deep, hearty laugh.
The three others in the room could only shake their heads wryly.
"If I may, milord," Allen Holder spoke up, "you might want to tone down how much you tease the young master. If you keep this up, he might start to resent you."
Drake waved the concern away with a flick of his hand.
"The boy is neither fragile nor naive. He knows exactly what I’m doing. His only problem is that he’s still too easily swayed by his emotions—and by a streak of naive morality. That combination is dangerous in the face of his bloodline, and in the game of power where the smallest weakness can be exploited fatally."
After a brief pause, Drake’s gaze turned toward the Saint Dawn Thief.
"So... you’ve spent some time with him. What’s your assessment?"
Allen didn’t hesitate. "He’s unique among his peers. Sharp-minded. If he weren’t your son and future successor, I’d try to bring him into the Black Mantle myself. Given a few years, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was running it."
"You think that highly of him?" Drake’s lips curled in faint amusement.
Allen nodded. "He had the foresight to send his Shadow Guard to me as a disciple, to learn the tradecraft. I can’t say for certain whether he’s laying the groundwork to insert his own people into the Black Mantle, creating an independent intel network, or simply ensuring he has a competent operative by his side. Whatever the case, the foresight he’s shown is exactly what any spymaster needs.
"And that kind of instinct... can’t be taught. You either have it or you don’t. And he does—abundantly."
The men here were all part of Drake’s closest inner circle. There was no need for masks or false pretence, and so he nodded openly—like a father quietly proud of the fruits of his long, relentless training.
’If you’re this proud of him, would it really kill you to let the kid know?’ the other three thought in unison.
Lord Marshal Lawson suddenly spoke up, as if recalling something. "How do you intend to confirm your suspicion about ’that’, my Lord?"
"I’ll move with the boy’s unit in secret," Drake replied without hesitation. "If things are as I suspect, those cowardly fools won’t be able to resist making a move." His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within. "And when they do, I’ll remind them exactly whose property they’re daring to reach their filthy paws toward."
"I assume you don’t intend for young master Alex to know you’ll be accompanying him?" Lawson asked.
"No," Drake shook his head firmly. "There’s no point in training him if he can’t feel the true weight on his shoulders."
His gaze swept across the room before settling on Lawson and Allen.
"I’ll be leaving the fief in your hands."
"By your command," they replied, bowing in unison.