"I need to meet the patriarch immediately, I have urgent news!" Jule Burton shouted as he rushed toward the massive ancestral hall, his breath ragged. To him, the minutes it had taken to run here from the tavern felt like years too late.
The guards at the door didn't even flinch. One of them looked at him with bored eyes and asked flatly, "Does your urgent news have anything to do with Caesar Burton?"
"Eh? How—how did you know?" Jule froze, his eyes wide.
"Your urgent news wasn't urgent enough," the guard replied coldly, pointing to a side chamber. "Go sit with the others. About twenty of your peers have already come with the same 'breaking news.'"
Jule followed the gesture. A group of anxious relatives sat in silence, all clearly waiting to be called.
"All these people…?" Jule muttered. "May I ask, what will the patriarch do about this?"
"You don't need to worry, Jule. The patriarch is already in a closed meeting with the family council, discussing this Caesar Burton and what should be done. Sit down and wait. If your words matter, you'll be summoned. For now, join the queue of messengers. Hah—one of them even claimed our kin fathered a child with a goddess and named him Caesar!"
The guard chuckled. Jule, stunned, did as told and took a seat with the others, his heart burning.
Inside, in the council chamber, Patriarch Brian Burton sat with hands folded, his sharp but weary eyes flickering with excitement he struggled to contain. His voice was calm, but the gravity of it filled the hall:
"You've all heard the rumors. Speak—what do you make of this?"
"Patriarch," one middle-aged man began cautiously, "it must be a coincidence. If such a genius were truly one of us, we'd have known since childhood."
"Or perhaps," another interjected, "he's a bastard. One of our men may have sired him during his travels, left him behind. These things are common."
"That is possible," agreed a third. "We have thousands of men in the family. Bastards are hardly rare."
"Then what? Do we just recognize him openly? What if it's a plot? A trap laid against us?"
"Who in their right mind plots against us by giving us a monster of a genius?" a gray-haired elder snapped. "Don't be a fool!"
The debate spiraled—skepticism against eagerness, caution against ambition. Voices clashed for half an hour until the patriarch's cane struck the floor, silencing the room.
"Enough. We will not resolve this with bickering. We will send an envoy to confirm the truth. The envoy must show respect, convey our goodwill, but also stand tall—our family bows to no one. Who is fit for this task?"
"Billy," came the unanimous reply almost instantly.
"Indeed," Patriarch Brian nodded. "Outside myself, none represent us better than Billy."
All heads turned to the quiet young man at the side. Billy inclined his head. "I will not disappoint you, Patriarch. Expect my report within weeks." With that, his figure flickered and vanished, already on his way.
Five days later, laughter rang out in House 207.
"Yeah, yeah—good! Tilt your wrist a little more—perfect! Haha!" Robin clapped as Zara managed to draw her very first talisman.
She beamed with pride, though sweat dripped from her brow. The process had taken her nearly half an hour, and though she couldn't hide the pattern into the hide like Robin did, she had still replicated the flame lines. For a girl her age, it was nothing short of miraculous.
Robin's heart swelled with satisfaction. Not yet useful, he thought, but in the future, she'll be invaluable.
His thoughts were interrupted by a calm voice outside:
"I am Billy Burton, envoy of the Burton family of the Duchy of Alton. I've come to convey the family's greetings to the young Caesar Burton and request an audience."
Robin's eyes widened. "Billy?!" He leapt to the window, peering out—and sure enough, a familiar figure stood before House 208. With one look, Robin gauged his cultivation: Level 21. For a man barely a century and a half old, this was astounding progress—far beyond what Billy's natural talent should have allowed.
"Haha! Billy, you old bastard—it's been too long! Come in!" Robin waved, grinning.
Billy froze, stunned. Who here knows my name? He turned toward the voice and nearly stumbled backward when he saw the boy waving from the neighboring window.
"You… you… you—!!" His voice cracked.
Robin laughed harder. "Don't just stand there gawking. Come on, are you going to keep staring, or are you going to greet your friend after all these years?"
"You—Rob..? No. Impossible. You're a child—you're not even fourteen!" Billy's composure shattered. A Saint who had weathered countless storms now trembled like a novice.
"Just get in here so we can talk properly! Caesar! Fetch us some good wine!" Robin called over his shoulder.
"Yes, Big Brother!" Caesar had already opened the door. He dashed off toward the restaurant at full speed, eager to obey.
Billy's eyes followed him in disbelief. So that's the boy the whole kingdom is raving about? He turned back toward Robin, his mind spinning. Confused or not, he could only step inside.
"Sit," Robin said warmly, gesturing to the seat opposite. "Tell me, how have you been all these years?"
Billy remained standing, his expression twisted. "Don't play games with me. You look like him, but the Robin I knew… he'd be an old man by now. Or dead." His voice cracked on the last word.
Robin's smile softened. "When we parted, I told you I'd go study the Heavenly Laws. I never said I'd go die."
Billy's breath hitched. He stared hard, searching the boy's face. "A message… You… are you really Robin?!"
"Who else?" Robin chuckled.
"Robin! ROBIN!" Billy surged forward and seized him in a crushing embrace. He pulled back only to grip Robin's face with both hands, staring at him with wild eyes. "What happened to you? Your body—it hasn't aged, it's younger! This is impossible!"
"I found a good beauty cream. Want me to share some for your wrinkled ass?" Robin quipped.
"This isn't something to joke about!" Billy snapped, his voice breaking. "At least tell me—your cultivation! You were at the Tenth Level back then. Now you're only at the Fifth. What happened to you?!"
"Ask no questions you don't want ugly answers to," Robin said lightly, shrugging off his grip. "Just know this: I am Robin, in blood and in flesh."
Billy finally exhaled and sank into the chair across from him, still dazed. "…Can't you even tell me where you've been all these years? Do you know how much I worried? Even now, the patriarch sighs every time your name is mentioned."
Robin leaned back. "I told him I'd go study the Heavenly Laws. That's exactly what I did."
Before Billy could press further, the door opened. Caesar stepped in, clutching a bottle of wine. "Excuse me, Big Brother. I've brought what you asked for."
Robin rose, took the bottle, and set it on the table. But before he could speak, Billy turned to Caesar with a deep bow.
"Mr. Caesar, please forgive my intrusion. I've come from afar to speak with you. May I borrow a few minutes of your time?"