Haa... Vined gently laid Vivian on the ground, his tired eyes watching the boy's motionless face.
A small sigh left his lips before his own body began to sink slowly into the earth, swallowed by the same power that had brought the fight to an end.
'He finally did it… Vivian actually managed to awaken.But what kind of intuition was that?'
Vined tried to recall the moment when he was pulled into that strange, black void.
Just thinking about it sent a chill down his spine.
Inside that dark space, he couldn't sense anything, his intuition was completely blocked, and his full strength was sealed away as if the world itself refused to let him move.
"Xi Realm…" he muttered softly, repeating the words Vivian had spoken before the attack.
He searched his memory for any intuition or ability with a similar name that existed in records, but nothing came to mind.
"Tsk." He clicked his tongue in frustration.
Still, one thing was certain, whatever that "Xi Realm" was, it wasn't something ordinary.
It was a power that could make even someone like him feel fear.
Just as he was about to sink deep into his thoughts, Elana came running from the sitting area.
"Ah… my wife, were you that worried about your husband?"
Vined said with a tired smile, lifting his body slightly and spreading his arms as if to welcome her.
But to his surprise, she rushed right past him, like he didn't even exist, and went straight to Vivian's side.
"Ah…" Vined froze, and in that instant, it finally hit him.
During the spar, he had completely forgotten her warning, not to hurt their son.
Yet now, looking at Vivian's condition, the word hurt didn't even begin to describe it.
He could already feel the chill of her coming wrath creeping up his spine.
Elena, on the other hand, lifted Vivian onto her lap and tried to channel her mana into him.
Her face was pale with worry as she struggled to steady his breathing, her hands trembling slightly.
"Um… well… wife," Vined started, scratching his cheek with an awkward smile, "he did ask me to hit him like that."
Elena slowly turned her head and gave him a cold, sharp stare that could freeze even fire itself.
Without saying a word, she looked back at her son.
Vined felt a shiver run down his spine. He swallowed hard.
'I'm screwed,' he thought, trying his best not to make another sound.
Elena, meanwhile, didn't care about anything else anymore.
Her whole focus was on Vivian.
She tried to lift him in her arms, but his body felt far heavier than before, she couldn't even raise him two inches.
Still, she didn't stop.
Instead, she turned her head toward her husband, her eyes silently demanding his help.
"Ah… yes," Vined said quickly, realizing what she wanted.
He stepped forward, gently lifted Vivian, and carried him over his shoulders, careful not to cause any more pain.
Vined carried his son in his arms and slowly walked out of the arena, his steps heavy and silent.
Behind him, Elana followed closely, her hands clenched and her eyes never leaving Vivian's face.
Charlotte, Edward and Vikel trailed behind, their expressions filled with worry and Pride.
As they stepped outside, the sunlight felt dim, as if even the world understood the weight of the moment.
Vined carefully placed Vivian inside the carriage they had used to come here.
Elana sat beside him at once, holding his hand tightly, her mana still faintly flowing into him.
******
"Mmm?..." Vivian's eyes fluttered open as an unfamiliar ceiling came into view.
For a few seconds, his mind was blank, his thoughts slowly catching up with reality.
He blinked a few times, realizing he didn't feel any pain or discomfort.
His body felt strangely light, almost too calm after what he remembered from the battle.
"Hm?" He tried to lift his upper body, but something tugged him back, holding him in place.
Confused, he frowned and tried again, this time a bit harder, but it was like he was stuck to the bed.
"What's this?" he muttered and turned his head, only to feel something pulling against him again.
Not one to give up easily, he gathered his strength and jerked himself upward.
Crrreee.
The sound of fabric tearing filled the quiet room, and a moment later, a strip of cloth dropped in front of his eyes, covering his vision.
He caught the piece of cloth in his hand and sighed, finally realizing what had happened.
The "something" holding him back wasn't magic or an injury at all, it was just a piece of clothing hanging near the window that had gotten caught on one of his horns, tugging him down every time he moved.
He gave a small, tired laugh and quickly retracted his horns.
His long metallic hair shortened, returning to its normal form, and his pointed ears slowly faded back to their usual shape.
"Sigh…" he breathed out, rubbing the back of his neck.
He'd forgotten to retract his features after the spar.
Just as he was about to stand up, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Bam!
The door flew open, and before he could even process what happened, something warm collided with him and sent him falling back onto the bed.
He blinked in confusion, looking down to see his mother clutching him tightly, tears streaming down her face.
"Um… mother," he said softly, a little startled.
"Don't worry, I'm alright." He gently patted her back, trying to calm her, but she didn't let go.
Her arms stayed wrapped around him as if afraid he might disappear again.
After a long while, she finally loosened her hold and pulled back slightly, her eyes still glistening.
"Are you feeling alright, son?" she asked, her voice trembling with both relief and worry.
"Why wouldn't he be alright?" a familiar voice said from the doorway.
Vivian turned his head to see his father walking in.
Though Vined wore his usual smile, his face was covered with bruises, one eye slightly swollen, and a faint red mark across his cheek.
Vivian blinked.
'Did… did I hit him during the fight?' he wondered.
But the thought barely lasted a second before he glanced at his mother, who was now giving his father a cold, sharp look that could cut through steel.
'Ah… never mind,' he thought quickly. 'He must have gotten beaten… by her.'
When their eyes met, Vivian gave a silent, guilty look that said I'm sorry.
Vined sighed and gave a small, bitter smile in return, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
He didn't say anything for a moment, just stepped closer and tried to change the mood.
"So," he said, forcing a light tone, "what's the nature of your intuition?"
"Hmm? Let me think," Vivian said softly, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall that moment during the battle.
As he focused, a wave of information suddenly flooded his mind, memories, sensations, and knowledge that seemed to come from deep within him.
The details of his intuition, its nature, and even its name became clear.
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his father.
"My intuition… it has many abilities," he said calmly.
Vined listened with his usual composed expression at first, nodding slightly as his son began to explain.
But as Vivian went on, describing each aspect of the ability, the strange power of that dark void, his father's face began to change.
His eyes widened, disbelief flickering in them, and by the time Vivian finished, Vined could only let out a hollow laugh.
"This… this is your intuition?" he said, half in shock, half in awe.
He stared at his son as if he were seeing something impossible. "I can't believe something like this even exists…"
"Hmm, so it can be used like that too, ah, by the....." Vivian began, but before he could finish, his mother's gentle voice interrupted him.
"Son," Elana said, her tone soft but firm, "why don't you come home for a while and spend some time with us?"
Vivian blinked, a little caught off guard.
He could tell from her eyes that she wasn't just asking out of affection, she was worried.
She probably felt that he was about to do something dangerous, and since she knew he wouldn't tell her directly, she tried a different way to reach him.
But Vivian shook his head slowly. "No, Mom… I can't return right now."
He braced himself, expecting her usual scolding or stubborn insistence, but to his surprise, none came.
Instead, Elana looked at him with quiet seriousness.
"Son, look," she said, her voice calm but heavy with emotion.
"I don't know what kind of problem you're facing, but before you do anything risky, please… think of your mother."
Vivian met her eyes, eyes that carried both warmth and worry, and his expression softened.
With a steady voice, he replied, "Don't worry, Mom. I'm not going to do anything dangerous. I'll come home after the midterms are over."
Though his words were firm, the silence that followed was filled with unspoken feelings, hers of fear, his of quiet determination.
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