The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the estate grounds as Fenix and Soren descended the mountain path together. For the past year, the man walking beside him had been nothing more than "Ghost" to everyone below – a mysterious figure who appeared and disappeared like morning mist.
Today, that would change.
Soren walked with his head held high, no longer bothering to suppress the overwhelming presence that had always marked him as something beyond ordinary comprehension. His aura, usually kept locked away behind layers of careful control, now radiated freely – a Grandmaster+ signature that made the very air around them feel heavy with contained power.
They hadn't even reached the main courtyard before the whispers started.
"Is that... is that really him?"
"No way. He disappeared during the war. People said he was dead."
"Look at that aura pressure. Sweet heavens, he's gotten stronger."
Servants scattered from their path like leaves before a hurricane. Some pressed themselves against walls, heads bowed in instinctive respect for power that dwarfed anything they'd felt in years. Others simply ran, terror overriding curiosity as they recognized the signature of someone whose strength belonged in legends rather than daily life.
But not everyone fled.
An elderly gardener, his hair white as snow and his hands gnarled from decades of tending the estate's grounds, straightened slowly from his work. His weathered face broke into a smile of genuine joy as recognition dawned.
"Elder Soren," he called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "Oh my!, it's really you."
The old man shuffled forward, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I never thought... we all thought you were gone forever."
Soren paused, his expression softening slightly as he looked down at the gardener. "Hello, Marcus. You're still keeping the roses beautiful, I see."
"Trying my best, Elder. Though it's been hard without proper resources." Marcus wiped his eyes with a dirt-stained sleeve.
"Does this mean... are you coming back to us? Are you going to help restore what we've lost?"
The question hung in the air, and Fenix could feel dozens of ears straining to catch the answer. Hope, desperate and fragile, flickered in eyes that had grown used to disappointment.
But Soren's response was not what anyone expected."I serve the young master now," he said clearly, gesturing toward Fenix. "Where he leads, I follow. The decision of whether to restore the family's power rests with him, not with me."
The silence that followed was deafening. Fenix felt every gaze in the courtyard shift to him, some confused, others speculative, a few openly skeptical.
A Grandmaster+ bowing to an Intermediate rank? The very idea seemed to defy natural order. Marcus looked between them, his aged mind struggling to process what he was seeing.
"Young master Fenix? But he's just... I mean, no disrespect intended, but..."
"He's the heir," Soren said firmly. "And he's proven himself worthy of loyalty. That's all anyone needs to know."
They continued walking, leaving behind a courtyard full of stunned faces and whispered conversations that would fuel estate gossip for weeks to come. But Fenix noticed how differently people looked at him now.
The mixture of curiosity and respect in their eyes was new, earned not through birthright but through the simple fact that someone as legendary as Elder Soren had chosen to follow him.
The main house came into view just as Khan burst through the front doors, his face pale with alarm.
His Grandmaster-rank senses had detected the Grandmaster+ signature approaching, and he'd immediately assumed the worst – that the Richter family had arrived early, bringing overwhelming force to settle their grievances. But when he saw who accompanied his nephew, the color drained from his face entirely.
"Elder Soren!" Khan's voice cracked like a teenager's. "How... when... we thought you were..."
"You thought I was dead," Soren finished flatly. "I wasn't. I was training your nephew while you let the family rot through political cowardice."
Khan recoiled as if slapped. The casual brutality in Soren's voice made it clear he held nothing but contempt for the current family leadership.
"Master," Fenix interrupted, his tone carrying gentle reproach. "Uncle Khan did his best with limited resources."
Soren's expression immediately shifted, becoming respectful. "Of course, young master. My apologies for speaking out of turn."
The exchange left Khan even more confused. Here stood possibly the strongest person in their territory, someone whose very presence could elevate their family back to Tier 3 status overnight, and he was apologizing to a teenager for being rude to that teenager's uncle.
"Uncle," Fenix said calmly, "is there a room available for Soren? He'll be staying at the main house from now on."
Khan's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "Of course! The chamber on the second floor has the best view, and..."
"Fine," Soren cut him off dismissively. "I don't care about views. I care about proximity to the young master's quarters and defensive positions."
The implications of those words hit Khan like a thunderbolt. This legendary figure was treating his nephew not just with respect, but with the kind of protective vigilance usually reserved for proven leaders facing mortal danger.
After settling Soren into his new accommodations, Fenix led him through the house to find his sister. She was in the library, curled up in her favorite reading chair with a book of ancient legends. When she saw them approaching, her face lit up with curiosity.
"Brother! Is this your mysterious teacher?"
"Abby," Fenix said warmly, "I'd like you to meet my master. He's been training me for the past several months, and he'll be staying with us from now on."
Abigail rose gracefully, executing a perfect formal curtsy. "Master Soren, it's an honor to meet you. Thank you for taking such good care of my brother."
For the first time since descending the mountain, Soren's expression genuinely softened. "The honor is mine, Lady Abigail. Your brother speaks of you constantly during our training sessions."
"He talks about me while you're trying to beat each other up?" Abigail giggled. "What does he say?"
"That everything he does is to protect your future," Soren replied seriously. "The most worthy motivation any warrior can have."
Abigail beamed at this response, and Fenix noted how naturally Soren interacted with her compared to his cold dismissal of everyone else. It seemed his master had decided that anyone Fenix cared about deserved basic courtesy, while everyone else could earn respect through their own actions.
The hours passed quietly as they settled into new routines. But as evening approached, as shadows lengthened across the estate grounds, the atmosphere grew more serious. Tonight's meeting would determine how the family faced their greatest challenge in years.
As sunset painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Fenix and Soren made their way to the family conference room. The heavy oak doors stood closed, but voices could be heard through the thick wood – serious, concerned discussions about matters that would determine whether the Ackerman family survived the coming storm.
"Ready?" Soren asked quietly.
Fenix straightened his shoulders, feeling the comfortable weight of his silver katana at his side. "Ready."
The moment they stepped into the conference room, Fenix felt crushing pressure slam down on him like a physical blow. Five pairs of Grandmaster-rank eyes fixed on him with expressions ranging from skeptical to openly hostile, their combined aura signature creating an atmosphere thick as molasses.
The elders sat around a circular table made of polished ironwood, their aged faces marked by years of difficult decisions and political maneuvering. Kai and Abel flanked Khan at the table's far end, their own signatures nearly invisible beside the overwhelming presence of their seniors.
One of the elders then spoke, his voice dripping with condescension. "So the expedition hero finally graces us with his presence."
The pressure in the room intensified as all five elders focused their aura signatures on him simultaneously. It was a power play designed to establish dominance, to remind him of his place in the family hierarchy despite his recent achievements.
Before Khan could object, before anyone else could react, violet light exploded through the chamber like a thunderclap made visible.
The aura that erupted from behind Fenix carried authority that made the elders' combined pressure feel like a gentle breeze. One elder gasped as invisible hands seized his throat. Another crashed to his knees as crushing weight pressed down on his shoulders. The younger elders found themselves fighting just to remain conscious.
Through the violet radiance, Soren stepped into the light, his eyes cold as winter storms as he surveyed the elders who had dared pressure his young master.
"Soren!" The name escaped their lips in unison, a whispered recognition carrying shock and disbelief.
"Gentlemen," he said quietly, his voice making the room's temperature seem to drop, "the next person who shows disrespect to the young master will discover exactly why I was considered second only to Zeke Ackerman himself."
The crushing pressure intensified until several elders were gasping for breath.
"Now then," Soren continued conversationally, "shall we discuss tomorrow's visitors like civilized people, or do I need to remind you what happens when old fools forget their place?"