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Chapter 12 - I have Grandparents?

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden rays across Ray's room.

Ray stirred groggily in bed, one arm flopping over the side. The warmth beside him shifted as Charmander yawned and curled a little closer, tail flickering with a steady rhythm.

Just as Ray was about to sit up and prepare for another school day, a familiar voice cut through the hallway.

"Ray! No school today!" his father's voice rang out like thunder.

Ray blinked. No school? Did he hear that right?

He stumbled out of bed, half-dressed and still groggy, peeking into the hallway. "Wait, what?"

Richard Chosen stood at the kitchen counter, calmly sipping tea, a faint smirk on his lips. "I spoke to the academy. You've got a week off."

"A... week?" Ray's voice cracked.

His mother walked by, humming as she packed a travel bag. "Better get dressed properly. We're leaving in an hour."

"For what?!"

"To visit your grandparents," Richard said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ray froze mid-step. "Wait, what grandparents?"

Lily poked her head out from behind her suitcase, hugging her plush bunny. "You didn't know we had grandparents?"

"I thought they were, y'know…" Ray hesitated, awkward. "Dead."

Richard chuckled. "Nope. Very much alive—and probably stronger than me."

"Wait, what?!"

"They're retired League members," his father said as he stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for battle. "Back in their prime, your grandfather and grandmother were high-ranking beast-class duelists. Top-tier."

Ray's jaw practically hit the floor. "You're joking…"

"They run a dojo now," Amelia added casually, zipping a case. "The Steelfang Dojo."

Ray dropped into a chair. "The Steelfang Dojo?! One of the top ten beast-type academies in the country?! The one where Elijah freaking Dragonheart trains?!"

Richard smirked. "That one."

"You're telling me the guy who broke five arena records last year trains at my grandparents' dojo?"

"I'm telling you," Richard said, tapping Ray's head lightly, "that your bloodline is not meant for mediocrity."

Ray stared at them, stunned. "Why have you never told me this?!"

Richard shrugged. "Because you never asked. And because I didn't want you growing up with that hanging over your head."

Ray sank into a chair, muttering. "My whole life's a lie…"

Richard continued, "My father only called me last night when he heard you created a unique beast-type card. He said—his words, not mine—'No Ashford should create a beast and remain a weakling. Get him here. I'll whip him into shape.'"

"He just wants to see you," Amelia added. "Your grandpa's just too tsundere to admit it."

"Okay… okay, this is a lot," Ray said, standing up. "How long do I have to process all this?"

"You've got fifty minutes to pack," Richard said, looking at his wristwatch. "And tell your partner to stop scratching the floor."

Charmander froze mid-scratch, eyes darting. "Char?"

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An Hour Later — Outside the Manor

The family stood at the edge of their estate, bags packed, and anticipation thick in the air.

Ray's heart thumped as he looked toward his father.

"Alright, time to go," Richard said, stepping forward.

With a quick, practiced motion, he pulled out a silver card, flicked it into the air, and snapped his fingers.

WHOOSH!

The air shimmered as a large shadow emerged—massive wings unfurling, a gale kicking up around them.

Descending from the sky was a magnificent beast—its body lean but powerful, coated in dark-blue scales with veins of silver running along its wings. Its eyes were a piercing yellow, filled with pride. Its wingspan stretched wide like thunderclouds.

The creature landed with a controlled quake that ruffled the grass.

Ray's mouth went dry. "What... is that?"

Richard grinned. "This… is Vaelstrom—a Skyrazor Drake."

The beast lifted its head high, gaze sweeping over them all with contemptuous arrogance. It gave off the vibe of a king who only tolerated peasants because he had nothing better to do.

Then it turned to Richard—snorted, and lowered its head like a puppy greeting its master.

Ray's jaw dropped again. "He's like a… battle-scarred lion mixed with a flying god... and a golden retriever."

Richard stroked Vaelstrom's snout fondly. "Old friend. Haven't summoned him in a while."

He leaned close to the drake's ear ridge. "Think you can give us a lift to my old man's place?"

Vaelstrom gave a long, dramatic huff—then turned his head and looked at the rest of the family.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Ray gulped. "Uh-oh. He's judging us."

As if to confirm it, the drake raised his head as if to say "You want me to carry them?" and snorted again.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," Richard chuckled. "They're family."

Lily stepped up boldly. "You're so big and shiny! And your wings are awesome! I bet you're the strongest!"

Vaelstrom blinked.

Then—like a switch flipped—he puffed out his chest, raised his snout high, and preened like a model on a runway. The compliment clearly hit home.

Charmander growled, stepping forward.

"Char!"

Ray blinked. "Wait, no—don't provoke him!"

Charmander's flame flared up as he stomped once and pointed a claw toward Vaelstrom—clearly issuing a challenge.

Vaelstrom gave him a long, unimpressed look… then released a short whoosh of hot wind from his nostrils.

FOOMP!

Charmander was blown two feet back, tail flickering wildly.

"Charmaaaa!!"

"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Ray rushed forward, catching his furious partner. "No fighting majestic air dragons today, buddy!"

Richard sighed. "Same old Vaelstrom. Always with the pride battles…"

Moments Later — In the Sky

The back of Vaelstrom had been fitted with soft leather seats and mana-stabilized harnesses. There was enough space for ten, easily.

Ray sat with Charmander curled beside him, the little lizard still glaring daggers at Vaelstrom's back.

"Relax," Ray whispered. "You'll beat him one day. Just not today."

Lily leaned over, wind whipping through her hair. "Look! The houses are so tiny!"

Ray peered over the edge. The entire city lay below them, sprawling like a miniature painting. The breeze whistled past, carrying the scent of mountain air and sunlit clouds.

He smiled to himself.

He was flying on a dragon to visit a dojo run by legendary grandparents he didn't know existed. His fire lizard partner was fuming beside him. His little sister was treating the sky like a theme park ride.

And he couldn't stop grinning.

"Guess life really has changed," he muttered.

And somewhere, far below, the old world of his past self—school, homework, routine—faded into the clouds.

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