"We have a deal then! …oh, right, you came for Caesar. Tell me honestly, what exactly does the family want from him?" Robin asked, his tone calm but piercing.
Billy straightened his back. "You can rest assured now—he's your adopted son. How could we ever think of taking him from you? These talismans alone are more than enough to put you in a very high position in the family. No one will dare make things difficult for you, nor for him."
Robin leaned forward slightly. "Just tell me what the offer would have been."
"…If he were truly of our blood," Billy admitted, "I would have offered him protection and resources in return for fighting under the Burton banner."
"I agree."
"Huh?" Billy blinked. Surely he had misheard.
"I said I agree." Robin's voice was steady, iron-clad. "Caesar won't gain anything from sitting here beside me with his chin in his hand. Take him with you. Give him a proper allowance. Enroll him in competitions, throw him into dangerous zones, let him step onto real battlefields. Let him make a name for himself and temper his blade in blood and fire. But…" Robin's eyes narrowed, his tone sharp as a dagger. "…this is under the condition that you do not lose sight of him for even a single breath. Billy, if my boy comes back dead or crippled while he's under your care—you won't like my reaction."
It was a strange threat, coming from a teenager who was merely at the fifth level. But after seeing the talismans, Billy knew better than to take it lightly. He gave a solemn nod. "Alright. Count on me. If none of the great uncles accept this task, then I will guard him myself."
That was no small promise. Billy was one of the strongest candidates for the next patriarch. He managed vast sections of the family's business. For him to say he'd abandon all of that to personally guard Caesar spoke volumes.
"Good." Robin leaned back, satisfied. "I see we won't have any problems then. Caesar—this is Billy Burton, my cousin, my old friend. That makes him your uncle. You'll follow him back to the family to broaden your horizons. Obey his instructions."
"...Yes." Caesar nodded, though a shadow of reluctance passed across his face.
"Good. I expect epic news about you soon enough. …Ah, one more thing." Robin turned back to Billy, his smile sly. "The talismans. Keep them a secret for now. You may tell only the patriarch and the most important elders—but you are not allowed to reveal them in battle until I say otherwise."
"What? Why?" Billy frowned.
Robin chuckled. "This world shall learn of their existence at the right time. The first appearance will stir a storm, and I don't plan to unleash that storm yet. Let me enjoy a little peace while it lasts, will you?"
Billy exhaled and nodded. "As you wish. Do you have any other instructions?"
"Simple enough—send any uncle I know on the first of each month. He'll pick up the talismans and deliver my money."
"Understood." Billy stood, ready to depart, but Robin's voice halted him. "Wait."
Billy turned back. "Is there something else?"
Robin's smile faded. His lips pressed into a line, and finally he asked, "…How did he die?"
Billy froze. He knew at once who Robin meant—his father. The old man had already been near his end when Robin disappeared. With his poor talent, he would never have reached level eleven. Living this long had been impossible.
"He started a tavern brawl about forty years ago… over a handful of coins," Billy said quietly. "He was stabbed to death."
"…It suits him, I suppose," Robin muttered, his voice carrying a strange mix of bitterness and nostalgia.
"Do you want to know about your mother, or your half-brothers and sisters?"
Robin shook his head. "No need. I already know what I need to know. You can leave now."
Billy stared at him for a long moment. "…Robin, you've changed. But I think it's for the better. I'm happy for you." With that, he walked out quietly. Caesar followed, but not before wrapping Robin in one last, silent hug.
Robin sat in silence for a while, then chuckled to himself. "Changed? Hmm… maybe this was always who I was. I just didn't have the strength or the passion to show it. What do you think, Zara?"
The little girl shrugged, her lips puffed out in an exaggerated pout.
The following days were filled with work. Robin and Zara sat together, day and night, drawing talismans. Robin wanted to get months ahead—completing the quotas for both families so he wouldn't be bothered later.
Twenty days slipped by in the blink of an eye. The first order was delivered on time, and the next five months' worth of talismans were already sealed, packed, and stored.
That very day, Robin called Peon into his room. "Peon, I have some free time now, and I've decided to explore another law. I want to begin crafting a technique for a new major law. Tell me—which one do you want?"
"Me?!" Peon's eyes widened beneath his mask. For a moment, he thought his ears deceived him. Could he truly wield the kind of power that Caesar displayed—the kind of power that shook the entire kingdom?
"Yes, you. But choose quickly. I'll begin my seclusion immediately."
Peon hesitated only briefly before murmuring, "…I've always admired the path of the Wind."
"The Wind? Really?" Robin raised his brows. "Out of all the major laws in existence, you choose wind?"
"I heard the Wind Emperor was fast enough to vanish from sight, and when enraged, he could summon storms. He was my hero when I was young," Peon said, scratching the back of his head.
Robin burst out laughing. "Coming from the Lying Water Kingdom, I thought you'd pick Water, or at least say you admired the Water Emperor. But Wind? Hah! Interesting. Very well—the Wind isn't a bad choice either. I'll get it for you!" He clapped Peon's shoulder and strode off toward his room.
Two days later, Robin emerged. He instructed Zara to keep delivering food and drink to Theo through his door and to continue practicing her talisman work diligently during the day. Then, with Peon carrying a massive bag on his back, Robin left the house silently.
Their destination: valleys and mountains saturated with the path of Wind. Narrow canyons where gales screamed, ridges where tempests howled.
Just like fire and darkness, the wind's patterns differed with each location—affected by dust, terrain, and obstacles. The major law of Wind was bound to the movement of particles, endlessly shaped by geography.
For four long months, Robin and Peon wandered, recording, observing, moving from one howling place to the next. By the time Robin decided his collection of patterns was complete, his cultivation had quietly advanced to the sixth level without effort.
When they returned, Zara had a surprise waiting. She had not only managed their monthly deliveries but had drawn two months' worth of talismans by herself. Robin praised her progress, and when he asked about Theo, she explained he still had not emerged from seclusion. Robin simply nodded. He knew better than anyone how difficult mastering the perfect Law of Darkness could be.
"Peon," Robin said at last, "I'll be retreating again to write the perfect Wind technique for you. Focus on your training. Grow stronger quickly. And take care of the house with your sister. She's done well in our absence."
With that, he went upstairs—ready to craft his third Perfect Major Law Technique, achieved in under two years.