Lucian's laughter slowly faded into a thoughtful hum, his arm tightening slightly around Isolde's shoulders.
Mia said nothing, still nursing whatever silent judgnt she held over . Her expression was calm, but her foot tapping subtly under the table spoke volus. She wasn't used to this version of "family warmth," and frankly, neither was I.
The silence settled again like a gentle mist until Lucian cleared his throat, the sound drawing our attention like a bell. He leaned forward slightly, his tone calm yet firm.
"Now, about the main topic. A month from now, the academy entrance examination will begin."
I gave a simple nod in response, but a flicker of tension passed through . I was more than aware that I wasn't ready.
Isolde picked up from there, her voice as elegant and composed as ever. "And I assu you've yet to learn how to fully control your abilities or harness your skills." She shifted her gaze to Mia. "That goes for you as well, dear."
Her words struck right at the center of the issue—because she was completely right. I could activate my abilities, yes, but controlling them? Actually applying them with finesse? That was a different story.
'So, I'll finally get so actual training... good.'
Lucian chuckled heartily, a grin playing at his lips. "Don't worry too much. You both have a month to prepare. Learn to control your mana, refine your skills, maybe even awaken so hidden potential." He nudged his wife with an elbow. "And Isolde here will be your instructor."
I blinked at that. "You?"
Isolde raised an elegant brow. "Why do you sound so surprised?"
"No offense," I mumbled, "but you look more like soone who teaches ballroom etiquette than high-impact mana control."
Lucian snorted, while Isolde just smirked. "That's because you've never seen angry."
Before I could comnt further, a question suddenly struck . I glanced at Mia, then back at Lucian.
"Will Mia also be enrolling at the academy?"
Lucian tilted his head slightly, as if surprised I had to ask. "Of course. Why? You don't want her tagging along?"
Before I could reply, he gave a teasing smile. "Just so you're clear, she's also our child now. Our responsibility."
Isolde nodded in agreent, her voice gentle but firm. "And we won't tolerate you bullying her. Understood?"
I scoffed, unable to help myself. "It's always the other way around. She's the nace."
At that mont, Mia stomped on my foot with all the fury her petite fra could muster. The impact barely registered physically, but I still dramatically flinched, clutching my leg like I'd just been shot.
"See what I an?" I groaned, playing up the pain.
She huffed beside , arms crossed. "Crybaby."
I ignored her jab and turned my focus to Isolde. "So, when do we begin our training?"
She smiled, the kind of smile that made you feel like you just walked into a trap. "When do you want to begin?"
Mia and I shared a brief glance. Then, in perfect unison, we both said: "Now."
Lucian burst into laughter, clearly entertained. "Siblings, through and through."
With that, Lucian and Isolde rose from their seats. Isolde turned back briefly, motioning with a graceful hand.
"Co. The training arena awaits."
As they descended the stairs, I felt an odd sense of anticipation begin to build in my chest. Finally, this world was offering sothing tangible—structure, training, strength. Sothing I could grip with my hands.
While they were gone.
I looked over at Mia. She remained seated, arms folded under her chest, eyes scanning the balcony as if avoiding my gaze was the safest option right now.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're awfully quiet."
She clicked her tongue. "Just thinking."
"That's dangerous."
She narrowed her eyes and gave a mock glare. "Not as dangerous as you."
There it was again—that edge in her tone. Not quite hostile. Not quite affectionate. But definitely... complicated.
I sighed, leaning back on the sofa. "So. You told them everything."
Her shoulders stiffened. "They deserved to know."
"I didn't say they didn't," I replied. "But you could've given a heads up before handing them the script to my isekai fanfic."
Mia turned to face fully now, her voice lower and sharper. "You think this is a joke, Arawn? You think just because you're not the 'real' Cassius, none of this matters?"
I frowned. "That's not what I ant."
"Then maybe an sothing for once," she said, rising from her seat. "These people... they're not part of your ga. They're not just coded puppets to move around for convenience. They're real. And they're hurting."
Her words hit harder than I expected.
She stared at for a few more seconds before softening slightly. "You want to change the story, right? To do it your way. Fine. But don't pretend like you're above them just because you weren't born here."
I stayed silent, watching her walk away from the balcony. Her footsteps faded as she disappeared down the hallway.
'Real.'
The word echoed.
It wasn't the first ti it had crossed my mind—but hearing Mia say it made it harder to ignore.
I looked out over the horizon. The view from here was breathtaking—fields stretching far into the distance, a river winding through them like a silver snake, and the city beyond just starting to stir with morning life.
Despite everything, this world... was alive.
And I was no longer just a visitor.
Of course, I knew this world was real. I wasn't so clueless protagonist denying reality despite everything screaming otherwise.
No, I was a top-tier otaku—gas, novels, ani, you na it. I'd consud more fantasy worlds than I could count.
So why, of all people, wouldn't I accept this world as real?
The mont I clashed with Brent—the heat of battle, the sharp pain of wounds, the resistance of his body under my strikes—it was undeniable. It all felt far too real. Not dreamlike. Not simulated. Just... real.
Especially the satisfying crunch when I split his head open like a blooming flower with my axe.
'Ah, that mont was art.'
Still, sothing gnawed at . Mia—she cared deeply for the people here, almost too much. But did she ever stop to consider why they accepted her so easily?
Accepting made sowhat sense, I was possessing their son's body and they couldn't get themselves to harm it. But her, she was nobody.
They had no real connection to her. No prior bond. No shared history.
Did they spare her and accept her into their lives because of her healing ability? Or was it simply because she was with ?
Either way, it wasn't love. Not truly.
At least, not the kind she was hoping for.
'Poor girl,' I thought, clicking my tongue in irritation as I turned away from my thoughts and headed toward the arena.
When I arrived, the crisp scent of wood and earth greeted . The training ground was spartan but well-maintained.
Rows of wooden dummies stood like silent soldiers, weathered and ready to be punished. At the center stood Isolde, graceful and commanding, with Mia close by her side.
As I approached, Isolde caught sight of and offered a warm smile. With a subtle gesture, she beckoned to co closer. I did, wordlessly, my boots crunching over the gravel.
She placed a firm hand on my shoulder, her expression shifting into sothing sterner, sharper.
"I hope you're ready for your training."
Beside her, Mia's curiosity got the better of her—as always. "Mother, will we only be learning mana control?"
Isolde gave a gentle nod. "Yes. Because everything else—your combat style, your movent, your rhythm—is innate. Everyone fights differently. We can't teach you a single thod and expect you to master it. That's not how real battle works."
I finished the thought, my tone dry. "That's why everyone has to find their own path. Their own style. The academy just provides the right environnt to sharpen it."
That earned an amused look from Isolde. Her lips curled into a sheepish smile. "Well, aren't you a clever one."
This detail wasn't sothing the ga ever spelled out, but it should've been obvious. Anyone with half a brain could've pieced it together. The ga only ever showed the outcos, not the logic behind the systems.
Now, facing this reality, I understood the difference.
Isolde stepped forward then, her smile fading into sothing more... ominous.
She clapped her hands once, the sharp sound echoing through the quiet arena like a gunshot.
"I hope you're both prepared. Because from this point on..."
She gave us a pointed stare, her crimson eyes gleaming under the morning sun.
"Your hell begins."
I stared at her.
'Yep. That... definitely didn't sound good.'
Mia shot a look that was half-excitent, half-dread.
I just sighed, tightening my gloves, loosening my shoulders.
Bring it on.
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