The room brimmed with power.

Not the kind that came from a single individual, but the collective weight of those seated at the long, polished table. The air itself seemed to thicken with each breath, laden with invisible currents of energy radiating from the gathered figures. They were the pillars of the nation, individuals whose very names commanded fear and respect in equal measure. And yet, here they were, gathered in what should have been an ordinary dining hall, if not for the overwhelming presence of those who stood at the peak of strength.

Crystalline chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow across the room's occupants, their light reflecting off the meticulously maintained wooden panels lining the walls.t artifacts and powerful magical items hung in display cases around them, each one a testament to the Surge family's achievements and history.

At the head of the table, Zarek Surge lounged in his high-backed leather chair, feet propped casually on a nearby footstool as he swirled dark amber liquid in his crystal glass. His blue-streaked hair, despite his apparent age, still retained its luster, and his face held the perpetual expression of someone who'd just heard a particularly good joke. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes betrayed his true nature—this was a man who had somehow stumbled his way to absolute authority and found the whole thing terribly amusing.

"It's a rare occasion for the two of you to visit," Zarek said, his voice warm with genuine pleasure. He balanced his glass precariously on his knee, apparently unconcerned about the priceless carpet beneath. "Had I known in advance, I would've broken out the good stuff—maybe even that hundred-year-old wine I've been saving." He paused, then grinned. "Though knowing you two, you'd probably just ask for tea."

Across from him, Long Qiangsheng—a man exuding an aura as deep and boundless as the sky itself—gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. His traditional Eastern robes, embroidered with subtle patterns of clouds and dragons, seemed to shift with otherworldly grace with each movement. "There's no need for all that, Zarek," he said, his tone dismissive yet fond, carrying the weight of their long history together. "I won't be staying long. I simply came to visit my niece, Fei'er, alongside my brother."

Beside him, Long Tianshen, Xiaofei's father, gave a nod of acknowledgement but remained largely silent. He was a man of few words, yet his mere presence carried an unshakable dignity. Unlike his brother's flowing robes, Tianshen wore a more modern suit, though the dragon motif on his silver cufflinks betrayed his heritage. The air around him seemed to pulse with barely contained energy, like a storm waiting to break.

Zarek took a long sip from his glass, then pointed it accusingly at Qiangsheng. "You're always such a spoilsport. Would it kill you to stick around and have some fun for once?" His eyes caught the slight tension in Qiangsheng's shoulders, and his grin widened. He then glanced at Tianshen, eyebrows waggling suggestively. "Though I hear you're having plenty of fun on your own. The barriers between S-rank and the next are trembling, aren't they?"

Tianshen's expression didn't change, but his silence spoke volumes. The slight narrowing of his eyes was all the confirmation Zarek needed.

"Ha! Called it!" Zarek spun in his chair like an excited child. "You're right at the edge, aren't you?" His gaze flicked toward another man seated nearby, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Unlike my son here, who's probably going to be stuck at S-tier forever. Come on, kiddo, even your daughter's showing you up these days!"

A deep exhale came from across the table as Karlos Surge, Zarek's son, tried to maintain his composure despite his father's antics. Though his impressive build and obvious power commanded respect, there was a resigned weariness in his bearing when faced with his father's uncontrolled energy. His fingers drummed once against the table's edge, a subtle tell of his discomfort.

"Father," Karlos said evenly, though a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Perhaps we could discuss this another time."

"What?" Zarek spun his chair around to face his son directly, eyes twinkling. "I'm just saying, it's embarrassing when your old man looks young enough to be your younger brother. Though I suppose that's more a compliment to my eternal youth than anything else." He struck an exaggerated pose, making Long Qiangsheng snort into his drink.

The air around them began to crackle with barely suppressed energy, making the crystal glasses on the table vibrate ever so slightly. Before the tension could escalate further, a calm but firm voice cut through the exchange like a blade through silk.

"Let's stay focused."

It was Lyra Winters, a woman of grace and quiet dominance, her presence instantly shifting the atmosphere back to something more serious. Her white hair was pulled back in an elegant twist, and her ice-blue eyes held decades of wisdom.

Seated beside her were Erwin and Ashna Thane, their matching rings glinting in the chandelier light, and surprisingly, another unexpected guest—Joshua Wellesley. The renowned doctor sat with perfect posture, his clinical detachment a sharp contrast to the charged emotions around him.

Zarek's gaze landed on Joshua, and he immediately perked up like a cat spotting a particularly interesting mouse. "Well, well! If it isn't the good doctor himself! Finally emerged from your cave of endless research?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "What brings the infamous loner to our humble gathering?" he asked sarcastically. "Must be something good to drag you away from your experiments."

Joshua, ever composed, met Zarek's playful scrutiny with his usual calm. His white lab coat, immaculate as always, seemed out of place in the setting, yet he carried himself with unwavering confidence.

"I need help continuing my daughter's training," he said simply, his words precise and measured. "She has potential but needs guidance for it to fully develop."

"Help?" Zarek repeated, feigning shock as he clutched his chest dramatically. "You? The man who's been playing hermit scientist all this time? The one who sends automated rejection emails to collaboration requests?" He couldn't help but grin at Joshua's slight wince at that last part.

Apart from that, Joshua didn't waver a second time under the theatrical display. If anything, his calm seemed to deepen. "I saw an opportunity," he said, nodding toward Erwin and Ashna. "They're planning to push through—to finally reach S-rank. I intend to come with them and do the same. But my daughter... Erica, despite her talent, still has gaps in her magic control. Apart from Life Magic, she struggles to efficiently cast anything else. Her potential is being wasted, and I refuse to let that continue."

A brief silence fell over the group. It wasn't often that Joshua asked for anything.

Zarek's smirk faded slightly as he exchanged glances with his son. The weight of the request settled between them—not because it was unreasonable, but because they owed Joshua more than they could ever repay.

Zarek sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Ah, well, this is a rare day indeed. The great Dr. Wellesley, calling in a favor? If I refused, I'd never hear the end of it from my conscience—or my wife." His smirk returned, though this time, it was less teasing and more resigned. "Let me guess—you want my little monster of a granddaughter to train her? Katarina's quite the prodigy, isn't she?" He preened like a proud peacock, completely dropping any pretense of modesty.

Joshua gave a small nod. "Yes. Her control over mana is unparalleled among her generation."

At that, Karlos straightened in his chair, his protective father mode activating instantly. "Katarina is still studying. Teaching someone else might hinder her growth," he said, his tone firm but careful, as if expecting his father's next bout of mischief.

Zarek, however, merely shifted his attention to Lyra Winters, clearly delighting in the way the conversation was developing. "And you!" he exclaimed, pointing his now-empty glass at her. "You're here about little Avince and his interest in lightning magic? Kid's got quite the spark, from what I hear!" He chuckled at his own pun while several others at the table groaned.

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Lyra sighed, resting her chin on her elegant fingers. Her nails, painted a subtle shade of silver, caught the light as she moved. "Yes. Despite my best efforts, the kid does not want to give up fire, so I thought he might as well be trained in lightning to give him a more powerful option."

"But are you suuuure?" Zarek drawled, twirling his glass between his fingers. "Why not just chain him to your legacy? Force him to follow in your footsteps? That's what all the other stuffy old families do!"

Lyra let out a small, humorless laugh. "I wish," she admitted, a rare show of vulnerability from the usually stoic woman. "But he doesn't want to. And, to be honest, he's just not compatible with my magic. His potential is in a different area. Sometimes the apple must roll far from the tree to find fertile soil."

Zarek paused, and for a moment, his expression suggested he'd just had the most brilliant idea in the history of brilliant ideas. His gaze slowly moved toward Erwin and Ashna, who had only been watching the exchanges until now.

"Oh! Oh!" He suddenly sat up straight, nearly knocking over his glass in excitement. "You've got that house near the academy, right?"

Erwin nodded, his arm casually draped around his wife's chair. "That's correct. We've maintained it for years, but we're going to live near the Dragon clan in the near future."

Ashna tilted her head slightly, her white hair cascading over one shoulder. "Aside from our son, there's no one else who will be living there after we leave."

"Perfect!" Zarek clapped his hands together like a child who'd just been told they were going to a candy store. "Let's throw all the kids in there! It'll be like one of those reality shows—three prodigies under one roof. What could possibly go wrong?"

The silence that followed was nearly deafening, heavy with implications and unspoken concerns.

Then—

"Absolutely not!"

Karlos stood up sharply, his chair scraping against the floor with a sound like thunder. His face was a mixture of shock, anger, and pure disbelief, his protective nature as a father overwhelming his usual deference to his father.

"There is no way I'm letting my daughter live alone with a man," he declared, his voice echoing off the wooden panels. "She's too young, and it's completely inappropriate!"

"Oh, lighten up!" Zarek waved off his son's protest with the casual confidence of someone who knew he'd already won. "Your daughter will be fine, and they won't be alone. Jerome's daughter will be with them. Plus," he added with a wink, "think of all the chaos they'll cause. It'll be entertaining, at least!"

When Karlos continued to sputter protests, Zarek's expression shifted ever so slightly, his perpetual amusement taking on a sharper edge. "You have no say in this," he said, his tone still light but carrying an unmistakable weight of authority. It was a reminder that beneath all the jokes and dramatic flair, he was still one of the most powerful people in the room.

Karlos, recognizing that edge in his father's voice, sat back down, though his expression clearly showed his continuing disapproval.

Zarek immediately bounced back to his usual cheerful self, turning to Erwin and Ashna as if the tense moment had never happened. "So! What do you two think about hosting this little arrangement of mine?"

Ashna exchanged a meaningful glance with Erwin before shrugging lightly, their years together allowing for silent communication. "I see no issue with it. The only concern is whether Jerome is also fine with it."

Jerome, who had been listening quietly throughout the exchange, gave a casual shrug that seemed at odds with the gravity of the discussion. "Should be fine. Erica and Avince are practically siblings, anyway. They've known each other since they were kids."

Silence.

Ashna slowly turned toward him, her expression unreadable but her eyes dancing with knowing amusement.

"You can't possibly have missed how Erica looks at Avince, right?" she asked, her tone suggesting she was speaking to a particularly dense child.

Jerome let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "You're reading too much into it, Ashna," he said, his tone light and unconcerned. "They're just close friends."

A sudden burst of laughter echoed through the room, breaking the tension of the conversation.

It was Long Qiangsheng, watching the whole exchange with the detached amusement of someone who had seen countless similar scenes play out over the years. "Ah," he sighed, shaking his head, his long hair shifting like silk in the light. "The young ones of our clans are finally meeting each other, and here we are—essentially swapping children at this point. It reminds me of when I was younger. Such arrangements were common among the great families."

"Common, boring, predictable, boring again," Zarek counted off on his fingers before spreading his arms wide. As he spoke, a servant moved beside him with practiced ease, tilting a fine bottle of wine to refill his glass. Zarek barely acknowledged the gesture, too caught up in his theatrics.

"But this? This is going to be spectacular!" He raised his freshly filled glass in a toast, eyes gleaming with pure delight. "To the next generation—may they cause just enough chaos to keep things interesting, but not enough to actually destroy anything important."

He paused for a beat, then smirked. "Well, nothing too important, anyway."

----------------------------------------

"So... that's what happened?" Avince raised an eyebrow, his concentration fixed on the flickering image before him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to maintain the illusion's form.

"That's what my father told me," Katarina said, her expression defeated.

Avince couldn't suppress a chuckle, though it cost him—his mirror image wavered dangerously. The thought that his house had become their training ground due to a casual decision between the country's most powerful figures was absurdly funny. He drew in a steadying breath, trying to sharpen his focus, but the clone was already dissolving. This technique used to come naturally; he'd even deployed it to outmaneuver that named orc in the dungeon months ago. Now, maintaining it for even a few minutes felt like wrestling a hurricane.

Across the room, Erica was faring worse. Her mirror image had devolved into a shapeless blur of distorted mana, pulsing erratically like a faulty lightbulb. Despite the deep furrow in her brow and obvious concentration, she was fighting a losing battle.

Katarina observed from the sidelines, arms crossed. "Not bad," she said, "for beginners."

"That's a polite way of saying we suck," Avince muttered, wiping his brow.

A smirk played at the corners of Katarina's mouth. "I need to assess your capabilities before we proceed."

Avince exhaled heavily. So this was her approach—establishing a baseline of their abilities before real training began.

Katarina's hands came together in a sharp clap. "Alright, that's enough. Time to rest."

"Already?" Avince glanced at the clock, and his stomach lurched. Midnight loomed.

Erica groaned as she released her unstable clone, which burst into fragments of light. "We still have school tomorrow," she mumbled, massaging her temples.

Avince let his own image dissipate. "Perfect," he said with a wry shake of his head. "First day of training and we're already sleep-deprived."

Katarina leaned back. Her eyes gleamed with unspoken amusement, as if savoring his suffering just a little too much.

----------------------------------------

Back at the Gathering

The meeting gradually wound down as agreements were reached and plans finalized. Erwin and Ashna were the first to leave, followed by Jerome. Long Tianshen excused himself to visit his daughter, leaving only three figures in the grand dining hall.

"Leave us," Zarek said to the servants, his voice suddenly carrying none of its earlier playfulness. The staff exchanged brief glances before bowing and filing out of the room with practiced efficiency.

"Well," Zarek said, leaning back in his chair as the heavy oak doors closed with a resonant thud. "That was an excellent performance by all parties." His usual mischievous smirk remained, but something had shifted in his eyes—a coldness that rarely surfaced.

Long Qiangsheng folded his hands on the table, the playful demeanor he'd maintained throughout the evening completely gone. "Shall we discuss what truly brought us together, then?"

Lyra Winters nodded, her ice-blue eyes narrowing as she reached into her sleeve and withdrew a small orb of translucent crystal. She placed it gently in the center of the table where it began to pulse with a soft, eerie light.

"The readings have changed," she said quietly. "The latest results from the higher-ups in the World's Alliance confirm it—the dimensional fabric is thinning faster than we predicted. They're urging us to prepare."

Zarek's feet came off the footstool as he leaned forward, all theatrics abandoned. "Show me."

The orb expanded, projecting a complex pattern of glowing lines that hung in the air between them. Points of light pulsed along the matrix, some steady, others flickering with alarming irregularity.

"The convergence points," Qiangsheng said, gesturing to the most unstable nodes. "They're accelerating."

Zarek's expression hardened as he studied the projection. "How much time do we have?" he asked, his voice now carrying the weight of the decades he'd walked this earth.

Lyra manipulated the pattern with a delicate gesture, expanding one section. "The calculations aren't perfect, but based on the decay rate..." She hesitated, looking between her two colleagues.

"How long, Lyra?" Zarek pressed, all humor gone.

"Three years at the latest," she finally said. "The first portal will open within three years."