In the morning, Jennifer opens her eyes. Her eyes look wide at the clock. It is 11 AM.
"Today is the weekend, kids have no school today. That means I have to make breakfast and lunch," Jennifer talks with herself. She loudly opens the door and rushes to the kitchen.
"I can't leave the responsibility of cooking to Johan alone. Johan had two appointments with patients this morning. I don't know if he handled them or not," Jennifer thinks as she comes down the stairs. She looks so tense.
"Sorry, Johan, sorry kids, I am so careless," she whispers, still running through her thoughts.
She suddenly stops when she is close to the kitchen. She hears a sound of sizzling coming from inside.
She enters the kitchen and sees Johan cooking lunch with Joseph. Johan fries tomatoes in five different pans. Joseph, on the other side, is pounding dried chillies and other spices.
"Brother, I think the garlic and bread are ready," Joseph tells him. He looks happy today.
"Okay, so bring them out. Wait, I am coming to help you," Johan says to him. He looks back and sees Jennifer, who has just woken up.
"Oh! Good morning," Johan wishes her.
"Did you... Did you already handle breakfast?" Jennifer asks him.
"Breakfast? Now we are making lunch: chickpea and spinach stew with grilled bread," Johan lets out a small, amused huff.
Jennifer blinks, trying to reconcile the time."What did you make for breakfast?"
"Sandwiches, carry cream and some strawberries," Johan says simply, turning back to his pans.
He pauses for a moment, his expression softening as he looks at his younger brother. "Jennifer, today is a miraculous day in my life. Joseph is actually spending time with me!"
Johan is beaming, his happiness radiant. Jennifer looks at Joseph, her own expression shifting to one of soft surprise.
"Joseph, you rarely spend time with him. Honestly, you rarely spend time with anyone at all," she says quietly.
Joseph doesn't reply, but a small, shy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He reaches back into the oven to retrieve the final tray of roasted garlic.
"No-no-no-no-no! That's far too hot for you. I've got it." Jennifer corners Joseph and pulls out the trays of bread herself.
"Have you finished your appointments with the patients in the morning?" Jennifer asks him.
"Yeah! Amili helped me handle the reception," Johan replies, his focus returning to the simmering pans.
Johan moves back to the table, carrying the pans of bubbling tomatoes. He begins cutting and mashing the fried tomatoes into a large tray, the steam carrying a rich, spicy aroma that fills the entire room.
Suddenly, Daisy trots into the kitchen, carrying a wicker basket overflowing with fresh onions. "Doctor, I have some onions for you!" she announces proudly.
Johan pauses, wiping his hands. "Thanks, Daisy. This morning, you brought me these tomatoes, and now onions? Where on earth did you get these from?"
"Oh! Uncle Vlad gave them to me," Daisy replies innocently.
The kitchen falls into a stunned silence. Johan freezes, his eyes wide, as if checking his own hearing. Jennifer and Joseph exchange a look of pure shock.
Daisy, oblivious to the tension, places the basket into Jennifer's hands.
"Did you go there alone?" Jennifer asks, her voice tight with concern.
"No, I went with Evan," Daisy replies.
Jennifer lets out a small, dry laugh. "Ha! Going alone would have been better than going with Evan."
"Don't say that," Johan says, offering a wry smile as he defends the boy. "You all suppose him to be a coward, but Evan is truly the bravest of the brave."
At that exact moment, Evan, a 9-year-old boy, enters the kitchen, his entire frame trembling with visible fear. Overhearing the praise, he gulps. "Th-thanks, Doctor, for the compliment, I think."
Daisy doesn't give him time to recover. "Okay, everything is done! I'm going back to my work!" She grabs Evan's hand and immediately starts dragging him toward the door leading to the garden.
"Daisy! Daisy, wait! Where are you taking me now?" Evan cries out, his voice cracking.
"Don't worry, Evan, just to the garden!" Daisy chirps as they disappear outside.
Johan watches them go, shaking his head as he returns to his stew.
"You know, it just goes to show that Eloise's father is also a kind man. Sometimes he simply shows his anger a bit more than others." Jennifer says, trying to regain her composure as she sorts through the onions.
Johan pauses, a playful glint in his eye as he looks over at her. "Wait... from 'that man' to 'Uncle' to 'Eloise's father'? I think your tone is shifting quite significantly when it comes to Eloise's family, Jennifer."
Jennifer's face instantly flushes a deep shade of red. Panicked, she grabs a newspaper lying nearby and pulls it up to cover her face, hiding her blush.
"What do you mean by that? Why would my tone be changing? Haha... haha. That's ridiculous!" she asks, her voice muffled by the paper and punctuated by a nervous, high-pitched laugh.
Johan just chuckles, turning back to his pans, knowing exactly what he's seen.
Joseph also understands the matter; to save her sister from this situation, he diverts the topic with a question, "Brother, what exactly caused so much fighting between the two families in the first place?"
Johan's expression becomes serious. "You call it a fight? Joseph, this is a full-fledged war between two families."
"Do you truly know who our father was? He was the great Alexander Baros, the General of the Soul World. On the other side, Uncle Vlad was the General of the Life World. During the First Great War, when the two worlds were locked in conflict, these two generals met on the battlefield. They fought for over a month." Johan tells them, his voice dropping an octave.
Joseph's eyes go wide. "I imagine it was the most bloody battle in the entire war."
"No," Johan corrects him, a faint smile playing on his lips. "In truth, it was the most bloodless. Before the war could truly begin, the two generals decided to settle the matter through a duel. They fought for months on end. Their auras were so incredibly powerful that their own armies couldn't even approach the battlefield for those days."
Joseph looks sceptical. "How is that even possible? It sounds like a Groken mythological story. It's as if you've replaced the Gods with Father and Uncle Vlad."
Johan looks him straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering. "No, Joseph. This is no myth. This is the truth of our bloodline."
"Eloise, when will our family become normal?" In her mind, he is calling Eloise.
Suddenly her eyes went into an article in the newspaper.
A stain has been cast upon our Barniglos City today following the arrest of Mayor Jones. On Thursday morning, it was revealed that the Mayor had committed an unspeakable act of violence against his own stepdaughter, Anni. This man raped the little girl during her childhood. The girl, left utterly helpless and broken by the assault, attempted to take her own life in the aftermath.
Though she survived the attempt and was rushed to St. Jude's Hospital, the danger followed her. In a state of pure, murderous madness, Mr. Jones entered the hospital wards with the intent to end her life. He madly killed the receptionist of the hospital.
Jennifer feels relieved, and she smiles. Then she continues reading.
But our brave Inspector Richard Jurin saved the girl at the time.
By reading this, Jennifer grabs the newspaper in anger."This buster took all the credit."
Prison of the New World Order, capital Finatorius city.
Deep within the cold, stone walls of the Finatorius prison, the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and iron. Two officers walk down the dimly lit corridor, their boots clicking rhythmically against the floor until they stop before a heavy iron cell.
"Did she tell you anything?" one of the officers asks, peering through the iron rods at a female interrogator standing inside the cell.
The interrogator looks up, her face devoid of emotion. "Nothing. I have used whips, torn off her toenails, and even rubbed salt into the open wounds. I have exhausted every legal method of torture allowed by the Order. Yet, she has not told a single word of confession regarding her Order."
The second officer standing outside the cell shifts uncomfortably, a flicker of pity crossing his face as he looks at the blood-stained floor. "Don't you think you've done a little too much?" he asks, his voice trembling slightly.
The officer standing beside him narrows his eyes, his voice turning cold. "You feel pity? Every single day, that woman abused her own child. She is the Grand Master of the Diaftis Order."
The first officer's expression hardens instantly. The pity vanishes from his eyes, replaced by a grim resolve.
"Oh! In that case... continue, she deserves no mercy," he says flatly, stepping back from the cell.
The female officer wipes a bead of sweat from her brow and gestures toward the prisoner. "She is a strange one. She is 156 years old, yet she appears no older than 20. It is because of her constant use of Mana. She is incredibly strong—physically and mentally. There is no doubt in my mind that she is either the Grand Master herself or, at the very least, a high-level mage within her order."
Inside the cell, Theo's mother sits rigidly in a heavy wooden chair, her hands bound tightly behind her. Her hands are encased in glowing mana-shackles, a shimmering field of energy designed specifically to prevent her from snapping her fingers or channelling her magic.
Despite her youthful appearance, she is a grisly sight. Heavy drops of blood fall rhythmically from her battered body, the stone floor beneath her feet turning a dark, slick red. She stares at the floor with hollow eyes, her hair covers her face, enduring the agony in a silence that feels heavier than the prison itself.
"This is an act of war, This is an act of war…!" she says, her voice rising into a deafening roar that shakes the cell.
Outside the prison walls, a series of thunderous blasts erupts. The sound of thousands of simultaneous explosions tears through the air. Before the officers can react, the wall behind them disintegrates in a shower of stone and fire.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Dust and smoke fill the corridor. Another officer rushes toward the scene, his face pale with terror. "Sir, we are under—"
Bang!
A high-velocity bullet tears through the smoke, striking him squarely in the forehead. He collapses instantly, dead before he hits the floor.
The remaining officers frantically attempt to defend themselves. They raise their hands to snap their fingers and channel their mana, but as they do, a massive surge of electricity rips through their hands. their bodies seizing from the shock until they fall unconscious.
A lone figure emerges from the smoke, a long sword gripped in his hand. As he walks toward the cell, the blade begins to glow, its colour shifting into a brilliant, searing yellow. He reaches the iron bars and swings. The metal offers no resistance; the rods melt away like butter under the extreme heat, glowing red-hot as they fall to the floor.
The man enters the cell and immediately drops to his knees in front of the bloodied Theo's mother.
"Mother, am I late?" he asks softly, his voice a stark contrast to the destruction behind him.
Theo's mother looks at him, her youthful face contorted by a shadow of pure malice.
"Theo betrayed us," she says, her tone dark and dripping with venom.