"Yeah, but do understand that any normal person will run away from the truth most of the time, and, well, you are you, so we just assume the worst will happen." That's why we hid it from you for now," Mom explained, her arms folded tightly across her chest, the stiff expression on her face betraying just how conflicted she felt.
I raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "For someone who's so good at lying to other people, you really suck at lying to your family."
"Ugh." She let out a defeated groan, turning her head slightly like she was trying to avoid the truth of it.
"You would've never told me," I said, voice calm but pointed. "You knew I'd find out by myself. And letting me discover it on my own felt safer to you than actually saying it. I get it, though. Human beings hate to be called out on their flaws, and I'm no different. I felt angry when Rachel confronted me.
I let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of my neck with a sigh.
"And even if I did try to run after finding out, let's be honest—you would've beaten me up and dragged me back here anyway."
She didn't say anything. She just kept watching me with a conflicted stare. Her silence spoke volumes.
"I wasn't mad at you guys for hiding it from me… well, not that mad," I admitted, crouching slightly as I ran both hands through my hair with a groan. "What really got to me was that I didn't notice it sooner. I should have. I've seen myself laugh like a cartoon villain or smirk like I was already planning someone's murder—but I never put two and two together. Reflecting on it now, I realize that those reactions only occurred when I contemplated killing someone.
I dropped down into a full squat, arms resting on my knees, and let out another groan as I ruffled my hair in frustration. "Aah, fuck. I feel so dumb now."
Mom chuckled, her expression finally softening as she approached and squatted beside me. "Ha-ha, you're handling it better than I thought you would."
"Hmm," I hummed, finally sitting down properly and crossing my legs. "Well, I have a rough idea of what's wrong with me mentally… But I have no clue how to fix it. Either I go on some long self-reflection trip and hope for the best, or I pull the classic monk move and sit under a waterfall for a few months until I reach enlightenment."
I dramatically put a finger to my chin and nodded as if genuinely considering it. "Might take years. I'll probably freeze before I reach any wisdom."
Mom stood back up, brushing her hands on her pants. "Well, how about something more practical? Like a self-appraisal trip—toward the border city and back. You'd have six months, just enough time before the tournament starts."
I looked up at her, brow arching. "I'm down. But with whom? And why the border?"
"You lost your chakrams during the mansion raid, right?" she said, crossing her arms again, her expression sliding into something more calculating. "You haven't gotten replacements yet. So go visit Steve—he can forge you something new. As for company, Kayda's going with you. You're a trouble magnet, and she's already handed off her next 12-month training plan to Amari. She's free."
I blinked. "Not a bad idea, actually. I do miss my lovely chakrams."
However, I could already sense that this was planned. They were just using my mental state as a convenient excuse. Typical. But… It wasn't like Mom would throw me into danger without at least giving me a heads-up.
"That's why Kayda's already prepping. You two leave tomorrow—on foot," she added with a grin.
I flinched. "On foot?"
"It'll take two months to go there and back, assuming you just walk the whole way. But with six months to work with, you can take your time. Sightsee. Meditate. Whatever."
"But can't you guys just fly there?" I asked, pointing skyward dramatically. "Like—zip, arrive in a few hours?"
"If we use our planes, yes. They're a lot faster than you think, dummy," she said, flicking her finger against my forehead.
I rubbed it with a pout. "But they can't be faster than you, right?"
"Of course not," Mom said proudly, puffing out her chest like a smug cat. "I can run there and back before a plane completes one trip."
"If that's the case," I said, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion, "then why didn't you ever run back when we stayed at the border for two years?"
"I nev—!"
"Oh, sorry," I interrupted, shaking my head. "I forgot. You're old. You'd have broken your back if you tried that."
The look on her face froze like she'd just been slapped. "What did you just say?"
"Huh? Didn't you hear me, or was I too high up for your old ears?" I leaned down toward her face, smirking. "Can you hear me now?"
"You ungrateful little—!"
Her fist rocketed upward, uppercutting me cleanly in the chin. My feet left the ground, and I soared back a few feet before landing with a heavy thud.
"—daughter," she finished with a growl.
Still grinning despite the bruise forming on my jaw, I stood up and dusted myself off. "Says the flat-chested cat."
With a sudden flash step, I charged back toward her. Our hands collided mid-air in a grapple, pressure exploding from the impact and cracking the stone beneath us into a shallow crater.
"Still as fat as ever," she snorted. "I told you to eat less."
"Still as small-handed as ever," I countered, smirking as I easily encased her hand in mine. "Are these even usable in a fight?"
"You want to find out?" She shot back before slamming her foot into my stomach, launching me backward again.
I skidded across the stone before flipping upright. "Haven't had a proper spar in a while. Base stats only?"
"No, that wouldn't be fair to you," she said smugly as she activated her limiters.
"Tch. Old hag," I muttered, summoning two ice daggers and shifting into a ready stance.
"I'm thirty-six!" she yelled before bolting toward me with blurring speed.
I activated Sword Domain. The temperature plummeted around me in a sudden drop—frost crackling across the stone underfoot as a chill surged outward in a four-meter radius.
"Not bad," Mom said as she moved within range like it was nothing. "But not enough."
Crap. She wasn't slowed by the cold at all.
I barely had time to react before she drew her fist back. I crossed my daggers in front of me, reinforced with chains bracing my stance through the ground. Her punch hit.
CRACK.
Pain shot up both arms. My forearms shattered like glass under the pressure, and the chain anchors ripped clean from the stone. I went flying.
My back slammed against the front gate with a sickening crunch.
'That strength… It's way more than last time. At least 2000 base strength? Damn, even my ribs are cracked…' I thought, forcing my healing to work overtime.
"You blocked that better than I expected. I commend you," she said, walking toward me, her arms loose at her sides, calm and confident.
"To think your base stats overtook mine. I should be ashamed," I groaned, climbing back to my feet with a grin. "Losing to an old hag in growth."
"Oh?" Her brows rose as she smirked. "Still confident in beating your mom?"
"Of course. If I can't beat my mother one day, what am I even doing?" I said, flash-stepping high above her. I brought two war hammers down with full momentum.
She caught them. Effortlessly.
"These look fancy. Still weak." Her hands clenched. The hammers shattered like they were made of sugar.
'Damn it. Think! My ice is like metal. I need to forge, not just create. Weapon strength comes from structure, not shape.'
As she pulled a dagger from nowhere and lunged, I flash-stepped aside, breathing heavily.
She followed, another dagger aimed at my ribs. I deflected it with a backhanded sweep.
The folding method—layered density. I made my dungeon walls that way! Why didn't I apply the folding method to my weapons sooner?
"You know what, Mother?" I leaped back. "I haven't felt this dumb in weeks."
A new odachi formed in my hand—its blade gleaming, layered like folded steel, and humming with mana.
"Ooh. Looks good. Let's see if it fights as effective as it looks." She drew twin shortswords and advanced.
I crouched into a drawn stance, body still and focused.
Two meters out, I drew and slashed.
Mom leapt up—just dodging.
"Obvious stance," she said, smug.
"I know," I replied—and the trap sprang.
Four chains shot up from underground, aiming to snare her mid-air.
"Shit—!"
She twisted mid-flight, dodging the first two—just in time for my blade to cut across her.
Blood sprayed.
Her leg and arm fell to the stone.
"Agh!"
Time stopped.
Seeing her collapsed, writhing, bleeding—my heart clenched. I dropped my sword and rushed in, scooping her up with trembling hands.
I'd seen the sight before. The pool of blood surrounded the limp body. My mother's body—my real mother's body—burned into my memory.
"Sirone," I whispered, turning to dash for help.
But something moved.
I barely dodged a dagger flying from behind.
In my arms… my mother's body turned to water.
"Fucking illusion," I hissed, rage bubbling in my gut.
I looked up—just in time to meet eyes with the real Mom, a fresh trickle of blood down her leg, but otherwise grinning.
"That was good. You almost had me," she admitted.
Almost.
My rage boiled.
"You know I hate illusions!" I yelled, slamming a fist into the ground where she'd stood. The ground was cratered.
"Sorry, sorry! I went too—aaaah!" She shrieked, ducking as I hurled an odachi at her face.
I summoned a second blade mid-motion and caught the first on its rebound.
"Let's see how easily you break these, now that I've got a real forging method down."
"Dual-wielding odachis?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.
I smirked. "Who do you think taught me?"
And with a roar, I vanished in a blur of motion.
She met my charge with a smirk of her own.
"Of course, my disciple."
And this time, we clashed—not as parent and child, but as warriors.