"…Your mother and I have a plan," the Baron continued quietly.

Lucas lifted his gaze. "Plan? What kind of plan?"

The Baroness walked closer. Her steps were calm, but her face was tense. She stopped right in front of Lucas, then placed both hands on his shoulders.

"This is an emergency plan," she said gently, yet clearly.

Lucas frowned. "Emergency?"

The Baron looked slightly awkward. He shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat softly.

"It doesn't mean we don't believe in you," he said quickly. "We're just… considering all possibilities."

In that instant, Lucas understood.

There were no positive possibilities in their minds.

They simply didn't believe he could win.

Lucas didn't show it. His expression remained flat. He even leaned back slightly in his chair.

"Get to the point," he said. "What exactly is this emergency plan?"

The Baron met Lucas's eyes, then gave a small nod.

"If you feel that you're about to lose," the Baron said quietly, "all you need to do is wave your left hand. Toward your mother."

Lucas froze.

"…Huh?"

The Baroness immediately patted his shoulder gently. "Listen first."

The Baron continued, his tone growing more serious.

"Your mother will immediately interrupt the duel. She'll act as if she can't bear to watch her son lose and demand that the duel be stopped."

Lucas stared at them in turn, blankly.

The Baron took a deep breath.

"I'll pretend to be furious. Condemn it harshly. Then officially declare Aldric the winner."

Lucas remained silent.

"After that," the Baron continued, "you and your mother will be exiled."

Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," the Baron added quickly. "Safely. I'll make sure you won't live in hardship. Somewhere far from the conflict—far enough from the Voss Territory."

The Baroness tightened her grip on Lucas's shoulders just a little.

"And Silvara," the Baron added, "will act as the intermediary. You'll still be able to communicate with me. I'll make sure of that."

The room fell silent once more.

The plan was… neat. Safe. Logical.

And it was built entirely on a single assumption:

that their son would lose.

Lucas froze.

Inside, he let out a cold scoff.

Wow… quite a good plan.

Even though I absolutely hate it.

The corner of his lips slowly lifted.

A thin smile. Sharp.

The Baron stayed silent.

The Baroness remained silent as well—her shoulders tensing slightly, clearly afraid that her Son might explode.

Then—

Lucas let out a small laugh.

"Well…" he said, slowly shaking his head. "What a good plan, Father."

He stood up from his chair.

The wooden chair slid back softly, the sound echoing clearly in the quiet room.

Lucas looked at the Baron. Then the Baroness. His gaze was straight, devoid of even a trace of warmth.

"You really are clever nobles," he continued flatly.

"What a shame… that we're poor now."

The Baron and the Baroness said nothing.

"If not," Lucas went on, "your brains might have been far more useful for building political connections—"

he paused briefly,

"—instead of making a plan that treats your own son as nothing more than a useless chess piece."

Both of them stared, stunned.

Lucas sighed inwardly.

Damn…

I ended up giving a speech like this just because I lost my temper.

The Baroness hurried forward.

"Lucian—calm down first—"

The Baron stood as well. "Son, we only—"

Lucas laughed again. This time, lighter.

"Relax," he said, raising one hand. "Take it easy."

Both of them fell silent, confused.

The Baron quickly changed the subject.

"Then… how about a weapon?" he asked cautiously.

"I can ask the best blacksmith in Voss Town. A proper magic weapon. It may not be soulbound, but at least—"

"No need."

Lucas summoned it.

From the empty space beside him, mana rippled.

The Great Hoe appeared in his right hand.

The Baron and the Baroness froze.

Lucas stared at its blade, then gave a crooked smile. He lifted the Great Hoe, pushing the grip slightly forward until the blade hovered close to his own chin.

"I think," he said quietly, "I've taken enough insults for today."

With his left hand, he slowly stroked the blade of the Great Hoe.

He raised his head.

Now, there was no more acting.

No more mask of Lucian Voss.

All that remained was a sharp, cynical edge to his voice.

"O Mother. O Father," he said mockingly.

"I beg you… perfect your plan."

He grinned widely, his fingers once again gently brushing the blade of the hoe.

"And I will make sure," he continued softly,

"that you will never be able to carry that plan out."

Lucas laughed. He lowered The Great Hoe.

The mana faded. The weapon vanished as if it had never mattered.

He stepped back half a pace, then gave a slight bow—polite, precise.

"I'll take my leave, My Lordship."

His gaze shifted.

"My Lady."

Without waiting for a response, he turned around and walked out.

—

Outside the door, Silvara stood stiffly.

Goosebumps ran along her skin.

She had been peeking through the crack in the door the entire time—even using a thin layer of wind magic to catch the voices inside.

Lucas walked past her. Silvara immediately fell into step beside him.

"Lucas," she said quietly. "You looked… different just now."

"Hm?" Lucas glanced at her. "Different how?"

"…Like a delinquent kid."

Lucas let out a short laugh and exhaled.

"Yeah. I was a little angry."

He paused, then turned his head.

"Hey. Did you hear everything?"

Silvara nodded. "Yes."

"Clearly?"

"Yes."

Lucas frowned. "How?"

Silvara sighed. "I… used a bit of magic," she admitted, blushing slightly.

"Wow," Lucas said, clapping his hands softly. "An eavesdropper."

"I'm tired," Silvara muttered. "I'm leaving."

She turned and walked away just like that.

—

Lucas continued toward his room.

In front of the door—

Liona.

She was sweeping.

Lucas frowned. "Sweeping here? At this hour?"

Liona flinched slightly. She stepped closer, then whispered softly—informal.

"Lucas…"

Not Young Master.

Her face flushed. Her hands twisted together nervously.

"I-I wanted to apologize," she said quickly. "Yesterday I… threatened you. And belittled your resolve."

Lucas's chest felt… calm.

Earlier that afternoon, Silvara never said she believed in him—but the training alone had already made him feel acknowledged.

And now, the shy maid who had acted tough and sharp yesterday—like a wicked stepmother straight out of a fairy tale—was apologizing.

His nose almost felt like it was flaring.

"It's fine," Lucas said casually. "I'm okay."

He smiled. "And I'll win."

Liona nodded quickly, still looking down.

"Then… I'll take my leave."

Her voice trembled.

She walked away in small steps.

Lucas stood there alone.

"…Why does she make me feel like a villain in a romance novel?" he muttered.

He went into his room.

—

The moment the door closed—

[POP!]

The system window appeared, lively and cheerful.

[(≧▽≦)ﾉｼ

Oi, King!

There's a surprise notification. I've been holding it in since noon.]

Lucas frowned. "Holding it in? Why?"

[[￣ー￣]/

This humble servant did not wish to disturb

His Majesty while he was focused on training and sharpening his resolve.]

Lucas let out a breath. "Alright, hurry up. Where's the notification?"

[DING!]

.....

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