Sleep fled from like a startled bird. I opened my eyes, surprised by how alert I felt despite everything my body had endured. Sothing was different.
I closed my eyes and focused inward. There it was—a sensation unlike anything I'd experienced before.
A shimring golden light pulsed inside my mind. It moved with my thoughts, responding to my will like a living thing.
I sat up straight, my heart racing. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. ntal energy typically developed much later in cultivation, after physical energy had been fully harnessed.
"A blessing in disguise," I whispered.
The torture I'd endured had pushed my body to its absolute limits. Instead of destroying , it had sohow accelerated my developnt. My mind was awakening ahead of schedule.
I tested this new power, directing it through different parts of my mind. The control was rough, unpracticed, but the potential was enormous. With this, my capabilities would expand dramatically.
A knock interrupted my exploration.
"Mr. Knight? Are you ready to depart?" It was the nurse who had been caring for .
"Yes," I replied, bringing myself back to the present mont. "I'm ready."
---
The Thornton family estate lood ahead, its grand facade a stark reminder of wealth and power. Two days had passed since Conrad's unexpected visit, and now I was fulfilling my promise to attend Tristan's funeral.
As my car pulled up to the entrance, servants rushed to open the door. Their eyes were downcast, their movents stiff with anxiety.
Conrad Thornton waited at the top of the stairs, his face a mask of perfect control. Only the darkness around his eyes revealed his grief.
"Mr. Knight," he said with a formal bow. "Thank you for coming."
I nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Inside, the mood was somber. Family mbers and business associates gathered in hushed groups, stealing glances at as I passed. The news of my connection to the Ashworth family had clearly spread.
The ceremony was brief but dignified. I stood at the back, watching Conrad maintain his composure through sheer force of will.
Afterward, Uncle Armando approached . "Mr. Knight, if you have a mont, there are matters we wish to discuss."
I followed him to Conrad's study, where Conrad was already waiting, composed once more.
"Thank you for attending," Conrad said. "It would have ant sothing to Tristan."
I nodded, taking a seat across from him. "You ntioned business matters?"
Conrad cleared his throat. "Yes. First, I must confirm that our dicine stores have been severely depleted."
"By what?" I asked.
"By whom," Conrad corrected. "The Veridia City Martial Guild has been demanding increased 'contributions' from all major families. They've taken almost everything of value from our dicinal reserves."
This was interesting information. "The Guild is stockpiling dicines?"
Conrad nodded. "Rare herbs, finished elixirs, even basic redies. No explanation given."
Uncle Armando stepped forward, placing a thick folder on the desk between us.
"This contains a complete inventory of the Thornton family assets," he explained. "Properties, businesses, investnts across three provinces. All now at your disposal, as promised."
I leafed through the pages, impressed despite myself. The Thornton family was even wealthier than I'd realized.
"And what do you expect in return?" I asked, looking up at Conrad.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "We've already stated our position. The Thornton family is at your service."
"For what percentage?" I clarified. "You're businessn. You don't give away assets without expecting returns."
Uncle Armando glanced nervously at Conrad, who leaned forward.
"We assud you would take full control," Conrad said carefully. "Given the... circumstances of our previous interactions."
I closed the folder. "I'll take fifty percent of all profits. You'll maintain day-to-day operations and keep the remaining fifty percent."
Conrad's eyes widened. "That's... exceptionally generous."
"It's practical," I corrected. "I don't have ti to manage your business empire. But I do expect complete transparency and loyalty."
"Of course," Conrad agreed quickly. "Absolutely."
I stood up. "One more thing. There's a man nad Eamon Greene. He was imprisoned by the Veridia City Martial Guild on false charges. I want him released imdiately."
Conrad frowned. "The Guild doesn't typically respond to—"
"Use whatever connections you have," I cut him off. "Bribes, favors, threats—I don't care. Get it done today."
Conrad hesitated, then nodded. "I'll make the arrangents personally."
"Good." I turned to leave, then paused. "And Conrad?"
He looked up.
"I appreciate your cooperation. Don't make regret this arrangent."
As I walked away, I felt a strange new power settling around . Not just the golden light in my mind, but sothing more intangible—the weight of influence and authority.
---
By evening, Conrad had delivered on his promise. Eamon Greene, along with three other prisoners who had been unjustly held, walked free from the Guild's detention facility.
I t Eamon at a small restaurant near the edge of town. He looked thinner than I rembered, his eyes haunted, but his spirit remained unbroken.
"Mr. Knight," he said, clasping my hand with surprising strength. "I didn't expect to see daylight again."
"The Guild had no right to hold you," I replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Are you hungry?"
Eamon nodded eagerly. "Starving. Prison food isn't exactly gourt."
We ordered, and as the food arrived, Eamon filled in on his ordeal. The Guild had questioned him repeatedly about his connections to , about what he knew of my abilities.
"They were particularly interested in your healing techniques," he said between bites. "Kept asking if I'd seen you use any special dicines."
I filed this information away. The Guild's interest in dicine aligned with what Conrad had told about their stockpiling.
"What will you do now?" I asked.
Eamon's expression sobered. "Find my sister first. She's been staying with neighbors, but I need to get her."
"Your sister?"
"Erin," he explained. "She's ten. Our parents died last year, so it's just us now."
A responsibility I understood all too well. "Where is she?"
"At Reese Primary School. Classes end soon." He glanced at his watch. "In fact, I should head there now."
"I'll co with you," I offered, surprising myself. "I could use so fresh air."
Eamon looked grateful. "I'd appreciate the company. And I'm sure Erin would like to et the man who saved her brother."
---
Reese Primary School was a modest building with cheerful artwork decorating its walls. Children's laughter echoed from the playground as we approached the main entrance. Publication courtesy of *.
"She should be out any minute," Eamon said, scanning the crowd of children beginning to erge.
His face lit up as he spotted a small figure with pigtails and a bright yellow backpack. "Erin!" he called.
The girl looked up, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Brother!"
She started running toward us, but her path was suddenly blocked by a harsh-looking woman gripping the arm of a boy about Erin's age.
"You!" the woman shouted, pointing at Erin. "Don't you dare walk away from !"
Eamon tensed beside . "What's going on?"
We moved closer, hearing the woman's tirade.
"—bruised my son's arm! Look at this mark! You violent little monster!"
Erin had shrunk back, her small face pale with fear. "I didn't—"
"Liar!" the woman spat. "My Jordan told everything. You pushed him during recess!"
Other parents were stopping to stare now. The boy, Jordan, stood smugly behind his mother, occasionally touching his arm with exaggerated winces.
"Erin would never hurt anyone," Eamon growled, striding forward. I followed close behind.
The woman turned her glare on Eamon. "And who are you?"
"Her brother," Eamon said coldly. "What exactly are you accusing my sister of?"
"Your sister," the woman sneered, "attacked my son unprovoked. Look at his arm! We could press charges for this!"
I studied the boy carefully. The "bruise" looked suspiciously like dirt or marker ink, hastily applied. The boy caught my gaze and quickly looked away, shifting uncomfortably.
Erin had started to cry silently, her small shoulders shaking.
"Erin," Eamon said gently, crouching beside her. "What happened? You can tell ."
Before she could answer, the woman cut in again. "Don't bother asking her! Children like that learn to lie from an early age. No parents to teach them proper manners—"
"Enough," I said quietly.
Sothing in my tone made her fall silent instantly. I stepped forward, my newfound ntal energy naturally extending outward, creating an almost palpable aura of authority.
"The child is clearly frightened," I continued. "Let her speak."
The woman huffed. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"A friend of the family," I replied evenly. "One who doesn't appreciate seeing children bullied by adults or false accusations made without evidence."
Her face reddened. "How dare you! My son would never lie about—"
"Your son's 'bruise' is fake," I stated flatly. "Poorly applied, I might add."
Jordan's eyes widened in panic, and he unconsciously rubbed at his arm, saring the mark.
The woman's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
I knelt down to Erin's level, my voice softening. "Hello, Erin. My na is Liam. I'm a friend of your brother's."
Erin looked up at with tear-filled eyes.
"Jordan keeps taking my lunch," she whispered. "He said if I told anyone, he'd hurt worse than before."
"You little liar!" the woman shrieked, making Erin flinch.
I placed myself between them, shielding Erin from the woman's anger.
"I think we're done here," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Unless you'd like to continue this conversation at the local police station? I'm sure they'd be interested in hearing about a grown woman intimidating a young orphan."
The threat hit ho. The woman grabbed her son's arm. "Co on, Jordan. We don't need to waste ti with these people."
As they stalked away, Jordan looked back once, his face a mixture of fear and resentnt.
I turned back to find Erin still trembling, clinging to her brother's hand.
"Is she telling the truth?" Eamon asked softly. "Has this been happening for a while?"
Erin nodded miserably. "He takes my food every day. Today I tried to stop him, and he pushed . I pushed back, but then he fell and started crying."
Eamon's face darkened with anger. "Why didn't you tell ?"
"You were in trouble," Erin whispered. "I didn't want to make things worse."
The simple statent hit hard. A child suffering in silence to protect her brother—it reminded too much of my own childhood.
I knelt down again, eting Erin's eyes. "You don't have to be afraid anymore," I said softly. "Your brother is here now. And so am I."
Her tear-streaked face looked up at uncertainly.
I gave her a reassuring smile and gently patted her head. "Just say what's on your mind; don't be afraid, no one is going to do anything to you."
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