Lucien raised his hand, watching it intently as he clenched and flexed his fingers.

  Weird.

  In front of him, Derrick y on the ground, his hand bleeding. Crimson blood dripped onto the earth, soaking into the soil. His cries echoed through the training grounds, his snot mixing with the tears streaming down his chubby face. The trainees, momentarily stunned, snapped back to reality and rushed toward him, forming a panicked circle.

  "Someone call a medic—urgently!"

  The referee, standing at the edge of the field, bolted toward the household to fetch help. The other trainees stood frozen, their expressions anxious, as if they'd just been caught in the middle of something disastrous.

  No one wanted to be involved in an incident where Young Master Derrick was injured. But running away wasn't a choice either? That would only lead to being summoned by the Baron ter—a far worse fate.

  A voice from the tense crowd suddenly shouted, breaking the silence.

  "This is all because of you, Lucien! You hurt Master Derrick!"

  Another trainee hesitantly chimed in.

  "Yeah… If Lucien had just lost, none of this would've happened."

  Lucien didn't respond. He simply stared at the crowd, his gaze unreadable.

  Sensing an easy target, the trainees found their confidence.

  "It's all Lucien's fault!" one shouted, thrusting an accusing finger at him. Another followed suit, murmurs turning to a rising chorus of bme.

  "He shouldn't have accepted the challenge." With a shake of the head, another spoke. Before long

  Lucien was shouted and cursed, for it. A sharp click of a tongue cut through the noise.

  "A bastard child should have known his pce."

  The trainees, spineless just moments ago, now had a scapegoat.

  Yet Lucien didn't hear their accusations. Their voices faded into meaningless noise. His focus remained elsewhere.

  Without a word, he stepped forward. The crowd instinctively parted as he walked past them, stopping in front of Elise. He tapped her shoulder.

  "Let's go."

  Elise nodded without meeting his gaze. Together, they passed through the mahogany gates of the household. The mansion was unusually chaotic—servants and knights rushed around like a disturbed beehive.

  He ascended the spiral staircase at a steady pace.

  The first floor was quieter. The sharp rhythm of heels and boots echoed down the hallway.

  He stared at his hand, fingers curling into a fist.

  There's no mistake.

  His heartbeat quickened.

  My—

  "Lucien."

  A voice called out, unnaturally strained.

  Lucien snapped out of his thoughts and turned. Elise stood behind him, her head bowed.

  He tilted his head. "What is it?"

  Elise hesitated, her fingers gripping the hem of her dress tightly. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. A flicker of something—uncertainty, doubt—fshed in her eyes before she looked away.

  "You're acting strange, Elise," Lucien said, his voice low.

  She flinched slightly at his words.

  "I just…" Her voice wavered, then steadied. "Will it really be fine? Sir Baron might not come for you, but the Baroness…"

  Lucien blinked. Then, a thought clicked into pce.

  Oh. So that's what she's worried about. I was getting anxious for nothing.

  Sure, if it were the old me, I'd be shaking in my boots. But now?

  It really doesn't matter.

  Lucien shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I've made my decision."

  Elise's eyes widened. "What?" she asked, baffled.

  Instead of answering, Lucien turned away. "You'll see in due time."

  Frowning, Elise hurried to catch up, grabbing the edge of his tunic.

  Lucien's cheek twitched as he gnced at her. "What now?"

  She spoke hastily, her gaze fixed on his chest as if trying not to meet his eyes. Pointing a finger at his chest, she said, "You forgot to wear it."

  Lucien's mind stumbled.

  Forgot? What did I forget? That's odd…

  Keeping his expression impassive, he gave a small nod. "Yeah, I was just about to get it."

  With that, he quickened his pace. Elise followed after him to the gate.

  Stopping at the door, Elise hesitated.

  "Master Lucien… do you...hum... need anything?" Her posture was stiff, uncertain.

  Lucien shook his head, his brows furrowed.

  "If you need something, just call me. I'll be here in a minute," she added hastily.

  "Alright."

  She fidgeted before speaking again. "Or… should I come in, just in case—"

  "No!" His voice came out louder than intended.

  Elise flinched slightly. Without another word, Lucien shut the door with a thud.***

  He leaned against the door and sighed.

  What's going on with her? His eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in.

  I should keep an eye on Elise.

  His gaze dropped to his hands, brows furrowing.

  Stepping into the center of the room, he pnted his feet wide.

  Taking a deep breath, he shifted his weight back—then unched forward.

  His legs snapped upward in a sharp kick.

  Without pause, he flowed into consecutive bicycle kicks, one leg striking after the other in rapid succession.

  A roundhouse kick carved a swift, deadly arc through the air, followed by an axe kick that tore through space like a falling bde.

  After a few beats, he exhaled, steadying himself.

  There was no mistaking it.

  Even during the fight with Derrick, he had noticed it.

  I felt… restricted. No—my reaction time was slow.

  There was a dey—a few seconds between thought and action.

  It wasn't just this frail body… It felt more like a mental block.

  Before, he hadn't noticed. His ck of movement had kept it hidden. But in battle? It became painfully clear.

  His gaze turned vacant, staring into nothing.

  This shouldn't happen if I were trapped in an illusion.

  That left only one conclusion.

  The implications weighed heavy in the air.

  I might have—

  Zexusgo