Time passed swiftly, and gradually, the evening descended. The day had unfolded peacefully, even uneventfully. As classes concluded, Modret quickly made his way to a nearby stall.
Through the shared vision with his servant, he had already located where Xara had stored the rabbits. Upon arrival, he saw about ten rabbits gathered in a cramped wooden cage. Most of them were lightly injured, some with broken limbs, but all were still breathing, their small bodies trembling slightly in the fading light.
Modret's youthful eyes gleamed with a strange light. A smile curled on his lips, growing into a wide grin as he surveyed the rabbits. He turned toward Xara, who stood silently to the side with a respectful posture, and spoke with a tone of disdain.
"You could only catch this number of rabbits? Are these creatures rare or something?"
For this man who had once attempted to kill him, Modret held no respect. In his mind, Xara was no more than a tool. If the need arose, he would not hesitate to sacrifice him for the greater good.
Xara's expression contorted briefly with frustration, but he quickly gritted his teeth, bowed slightly, and responded in a solemn voice.
"I apologize for my incompetence, Master."
Modret shrugged indifferently. He walked over to a wooden table nearby, picked up a short, iron-forged sword, and swiftly ended the lives of the rabbits with practiced efficiency.
[gained 200 shadow fragments.]
[shadow fragments: 827/1000.]
Modret's eyes lit up with excitement. A satisfied smile touched his lips. If Xara could prove useful again tomorrow, then he would soon be able to unlock a second ability.
He cast a brief glance at Xara, then shook his head and turned to leave the stall. His fading voice echoed in the air with an authoritative tone that didn't match his age.
"Dispose of the corpses."
Although Xara was confused by what had just happened and could not fully understand the strange ritual his young master performed, he did not dare question it. Without hesitation, he obeyed.
…
Upon returning home, Modret immediately sensed something was wrong. The atmosphere within the house had shifted. A subtle tension clung to the walls like smoke. He frowned, then noticed his mother pacing anxiously in the living room, her eyes troubled, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand.
Modret furrowed his brows, then made his presence known. "Mother… I'm home. You seem worried. Is everything alright?"
At the sound of her son's voice, Anna turned quickly and rushed over to hug him. She smiled gently and ruffled his hair, masking her unease with a calm expression.
"How were your classes today?" she asked softly.
"Classes went smoothly as always," Modret replied quickly. But even as he answered, his eyes darted toward the letter in her hand.
"Mom, what's that?" he asked, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. He tried to maintain a cute, pouting expression, at least what he believed looked like one.
Anna hesitated for a moment, then gave a soft laugh and responded casually. "It's nothing, don't worry. Go and take a bath while we wait for your father to return. I'll go make dinner."
Without giving Modret a chance to question further, she swiftly turned and headed into the kitchen. But perhaps due to her haste, the letter slipped from her hand and floated to the ground like a fallen leaf.
Modret's frown deepened. He stepped toward the letter, eyes narrowing. After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up. The moment his eyes scanned its contents, his expression changed dramatically.
"An imperial edict ordering Mother and Father to return to the battlefield?" he whispered sharply. No wonder she looked so troubled.
His hands clenched the letter tightly, and his face turned grim. His breathing slowed. He was not yet strong enough to fend off the assassination attempts that would surely come the moment his parents left.
"Son," Anna's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She had seen the letter in his hand and quickly snatched it from him. But the damage was already done. Modret looked up at her with a calm, steady gaze.
Anna exhaled slowly and spoke gently. "Go and take your bath. We will talk about this during dinner."
Modret opened his mouth, as if to protest, but ultimately said nothing. Instead, he obeyed, heading to his room to bathe. However, inside, his heart was far from calm.
…
At the dining table, three figures sat in silence. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words. Plates were full, but no one seemed interested in the food before them. Each person ate quietly, as if hoping the subject would never be raised.
Modret chewed his food slowly, his heart tense, waiting for his parents to speak first. But the silence dragged on, and it seemed neither was willing to address the matter. Were they really going to pretend as though nothing had happened?
His frown deepened at the thought. After finishing his meal, he cleared his throat softly and asked with quiet solemnity, "Are you going?"
His words sliced through the silence like a blade.
Both Anna and Donald paused. Anna set her fork down gently and turned toward Donald, waiting for him to answer.
Donald remained calm, his face unreadable. "Since duty calls, we obey. It is one of the first laws of the royal family," he said, then resumed eating as if his words carried no particular weight.
Modret's brows twitched. "So, you will leave your five-year-old son to attend to your duties?"
Donald calmly placed another spoonful of food into his mouth. "My siblings and their families will take care of you while we are away."
Modret slammed his palm lightly on the table. "And what if they try to kill me? Or anyone else for that matter?"
Donald paused and stared at his son, his expression unreadable. "And why would you think that?"
The words died in Modret's throat. He had no solid proof. Last time, he had tried to share his suspicions, and it had backfired. He hesitated, unsure if he should speak further.
Seeing that Modret had no response, Donald continued, "Lives are being lost on the battlefield. It is our responsibility as Awakeners to protect them."
Modret's face darkened. "So you care more about strangers than your own son?"
This time, Donald said nothing. His lips pressed into a thin line, and the silence grew heavier. He had no answer, and even if he did, it was likely something neither Anna nor Modret wanted to hear.
After a long pause, Anna finally joined the conversation.
"I still have the Meritorious Sigil we earned from our last victory. With it, we can submit a request to the Imperial Council. We cannot ask for permanent leave, but we can delay our deployment for a few years… at least until our son grows stronger."
"Anna…" Donald hesitated, his voice soft. But seeing the firm look on her face, he chose silence instead.
Modret remained quiet, digesting her words. A thought crossed his mind.
'If I train hard enough and fiercely improve my strength in the meantime, I should be able to protect myself before they leave… right?'
He posed the question to no one in particular, but the resolve in his eyes was unmistakable.