For the whole flight home, neither Lina nor Wharton made so much as a sound. They could both sense that Haydson wasn’t in a good mood, and neither wanted to be the one to make it worse.

Plus, Wharton’s mind was still reeling from everything that had happened at Yin-Yang Mountain.

He’d gone there so full of confidence, and he had a right to be. He was a fully-fledged Dragonblood Warrior, he had a powerful saint for a master who had spared no expense training him to the point where he had even comprehended one with the sword at the age of 12, which was beyond impressive by normal standards.

The number of students that could fight him in the War God’s Academy or even the Ernst Institute could be counted on one hand.

All things considered, this should’ve been a relatively straightforward trip where he finally got to recover his pride, and yet the target of his challenge refused to fight him as he didn’t put him in his eyes, the person he fought, a youth who five years ago would’ve been lucky to last two strikes against him, was able to all but trounce him.

Whilst he acknowledged he likely could’ve done better if he hadn’t underestimated him at the beginning and knew what his opponent was capable of, it didn’t matter. If he was being honest, he knew he still would’ve lost one way or another.

As though that wasn’t embarrassing enough, the person he went there to challenge in the first place challenged and defeated a peak rank seven warrior, someone he knew he wasn’t a match for, and not only did he show that he now had an affinity to one of the laws of nature allowing him to become a mage, his comprehension into said element had actually reached the profound level.

And to top it off, Wharton watched his master, the man publicly referred to as the strongest saint, get defeated by Ace’s master, who, according to Haydson, was still a mortal.

Ace had essentially shown him that he was better than him in every possible way.

It took a few hours, but eventually, the trio returned to their accommodation in the O’Brien Empire.

Considering his status in the empire, one would expect Haydson to live in extremely lavish housing, but that couldn’t have been any further from the truth. It was just two simple wooden cottages in the middle of a beautiful prairie.

“Both of you are to forget most of what you saw during the trip,” Haydson commanded indifferently as he scanned the mother and son duo pausing on Lina. “If anyone asks, we went to the Yin-Yang Pavilion so Wharton could challenge Ace, only to be defeated by another of the students.”

Wharton’s body trembled when he heard his master’s words, and his mother’s eyes narrowed. Haydson knew that neither would be happy about that, but that wasn’t his concern.

“As for Ace defeating Brutus, that never happened. And if anyone asks about Kenyon, you’re to send them my way.” Haydson continued, his face becoming unnaturally solemn. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master (milord).” The two Baruchs agreed, not daring to oppose a saint.

“Good,” Haydson nodded before turning to make his way towards the smaller of the two cabins. “Wharton, follow me.”

The inside of Haydson’s cabin was just as simplistic as the outside. Other than a plain rug in the centre of the room, there wasn’t a single piece of furniture or decoration to note, but that was exactly how he liked it.

“Are you disappointed?” Haydson said softly as he sat cross-legged in mid-air above his rug. “You’re an all-powerful Dragonblood Warrior who’d trained relentlessly for over five years to defeat the person you set as your rival, only to find out said person never saw you as a rival in the first place.”

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Wharton didn’t say anything, but it was clear from how tight he had clenched his fists that disappointment was an understatement.

“There are some people that it’s best just not to compare yourself to, and that boy Ace is precisely one of those people,” Haydson sighed helplessly. “Even if it were the original four supreme warriors themselves, they’d likely be hard-pressed not to be overshadowed if they grew up in the same generation as him.

But that’s not to say you should give up all together. You might not be able to rank first in your generation, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t be aspiring to take second place.

I’ll be honest, as it stands, even with your bloodline, you’re not that boy Killian’s match, but as long as you don’t go wallowing in your self-pity, you could still surpass him in the future, but it all depends on whether you’re willing to put in the work or not.”

Wharton knew his master was right, but after finding out the person he’d been chasing after for all these years had completely left him behind, it was all but impossible for him to snap out of his funk just like that.

“Okay, I’ve said everything I needed to,” Haydson said calmly as he closed his eyes to enter meditation. “You can leave now.”

As disheartened as Wharton was, Haydson was no less so. He was a peak saint and much stronger than your average peak saint, yet he was defeated by a mortal. The only difference between him and his disciple was that he had the strength of character to turn this embarrassment into fuel for his motivation.

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At the same time, back in the Yin-Yang Pavilion, Ace was standing at the edge of the mountain, looking out into the distance in the direction of the O’Brien Empire.

He’d been stood in the same spot ever since Haydson escaped with Wharton and Lina.

Things had suddenly become way more complicated than he ever could’ve imagined, and as it stood, he had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

Part of him wanted to get his master to use the concoction to heal his mother’s soul to put her out of her misery, but selfishly, he also wanted her to keep her talent so that she could become a saint in the future and live a life of immortality with him, but the thing he wanted most was to take O’Brien’s head and make him suffer for all the pain he’d caused the only mother he had ever truly known.

The only ones still there were Killian and Leonel. Both wanted to be there for him. Unfortunately, they both understood that there was nothing they could say or do to help fix things at that moment.

“What’s with all the doom and gloom?” Wukong asked casually as he suddenly appeared beside Ace taking a seat at the edge of the mountain, allowing his feet to swing off the side.

Ace had a lot of people in his life whom he cared about, but his relationship with Wukong was special.

Whether it was Luffy, Sabo, Killian or even Leonel, Ace had always taken on the position of the older brother, which meant that although he knew he could rely on each and every one of them to watch his back, ultimately, he felt it was his responsibility to look after them, but Wukong was different.

Ever since they met, it was always Wukong looking out for him. Be it recruiting him during their selection, teaching him the correct way to wield the glaive or risking his life to fight two saints instead of escaping just so that they wouldn’t target him, Wukong was always the one looking out for him.

There has been a multitude of different adults over the span of both his lives that have also looked out for him, but the difference was in the tone of their relationship.

Whether it was Garp, Whitebeard or Aiden, Ace was extremely close to them all, but they all acted like seniors looking after a child, but Wukong felt more like a peer than a senior in that sense.

It was only through Wukong that he realised how it felt to have an older brother, and although he wouldn’t change his relationship with any of the people he called a little brother, it still felt nice to have someone like that, someone whom he could rely on.

So when Wukong appeared beside him, Ace was completely honest with his response. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Between his maturity, ridiculous talent, and overwhelming confidence, it was easy to forget that Ace was just a thirteen-year-old boy. Honestly, as bad as it sounded, it was a bit reassuring for Wukong to finally see such a vulnerable side to him. Still, he knew now wasn’t the time to be focusing on such things.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Wukong asked back. “Didn’t your master tell you that you just need to defeat O’Brien?”

“You know better than I do that it’s not that simple,” Ace retorted. “Plus, who knows how strong he’ll be by the time I get to his current level.”

“Maybe not for others,” Wukong shrugged. “But for you, it’s precisely that simple, and this king will give you some good news. Due to certain circumstances, it’s impossible for O’Brien to improve past his current level.”

“Certain circumstances?” Ace asked.

“You don’t need to worry about the specifics; it’s too advanced for the current you,” Wukong waved dismissively. “All you need to focus on is attaining the strength of a deity. As for what you’re supposed to do now, that’s simple. Go to the Rohault Empire.”