A few moments earlier—

"It's been a long time since I came to this place."

A soft feminine voice echoed. A mature figure walked gracefully through a dimly lit room.

Her slender fingers brushed against the dusty walls, as if tracing a place long neglected.

"You should take better care of this room. It's quite important… Harun," she said.

The figure was none other than Sandra. She turned her gaze toward Harun, who stood firmly behind her, upright and dignified as always—just like the head butler of the Virellano family should be.

Harun bowed slightly.

"Yes, Madam Sandra."

Sandra smiled faintly, though her face still carried traces of worry. She continued walking lightly, exploring the underground bunker of the Virellano family—a place once meant for emergencies, now more like a forgotten storage room, unused for years, maybe never at all.

She stopped before a long bench covered with a white sheet.

With initiative, Harun stepped forward, tidied the bench, and brushed off the dust so Sandra could sit.

While cleaning, he glanced at her from time to time. Sandra's eyes wandered the room filled with abandoned belongings of the family. Her face looked weary, her eyes swollen, her breathing unsteady. She seemed as if she wanted to say something—or cry—but couldn't.

"Are you all right, Madam Sandra?" Harun asked, worried.

Sandra didn't answer right away. She slowly sat on the bench he had prepared, exhaling deeply before covering her face with both hands.

After a moment of silence, she lowered her hands and stared blankly at the floor.

"Will they be all right?" she asked softly.

Harun placed one hand on his chest before replying.

"Uncle Acok, Dedy, and nearly all the bodyguards are handling it, along with Master Edward. Everything will be fine, Madam." His tone was almost robotic, but his expression carried a touch of reassurance.

"Do you really think so? Could you… check?" Sandra lifted her head to look at him, her anxiety deepening. For the first time, her family's safety was at stake—especially David's.

Harun inhaled deeply and gave a slight nod. For a brief second, a white gleam flickered in his eyes.

He closed his eyes, raised his hands before his chest, and pressed his fingertips together without joining his palms. His lips moved silently, chanting an inaudible mantra.

A faint wind swirled around him, forming a tiny vortex at his feet. And then—

Skill: Eye of Bissu

He slowly opened his eyes, now glowing faintly with a bluish-white light. The sacred skill allowed him to view what was happening within a certain radius. The images were not perfectly detailed, but clearer than the Dimensional Eye, which could only detect energy colors—this, at least, showed actual visuals.

In his sight appeared the surroundings of the Virellano estate. On the western side, a battle raged. Dark figures clashed against familiar silhouettes—Dedy and Uncle Acok.

He shifted his view eastward, toward David's room. Unfortunately, the area was obscured by something, though faint outlines could still be seen. Yet, he could not penetrate inside David's room itself.

Then, he turned his sight outward—toward the balcony. Something black lingered there. Narrowing his focus, he tried to draw closer to the image—

But suddenly—

"Ughhh!" Harun groaned, staggering. The vision shattered. Blood trickled from his eyes.

"Harun! What happened?!" Sandra rushed toward him.

Harun clutched his face, his eyes throbbing with pain. He bent slightly, trembling.

Sandra looked stricken, at a loss for what to do.

After a moment, he steadied himself enough to speak.

"I-I'm sorry, Madam Sandra…" he whispered, wiping the blood from his eyes and cheeks. "It's been so long since I last used magic. I suppose this is just a side effect."

Sandra nodded slowly, resisting the urge to push him for more answers. She returned to her seat, making sure he was truly all right first.

"I nearly forgot… you used to be a magic user. Even a religious leader, wasn't it? Time really has flown." Sandra's voice carried a nostalgic tone.

Harun gave a faint smile, exhaling deeply before speaking again.

"That's true." He paused, then added, "My apologies for the disturbance, Madam Sandra. Everything appeared fine. Young Master David's room showed no signs of trouble. Uncle Acok and Dedy were both fighting on the west side of the house. It seems safe for now."

Though Harun didn't fully understand what he had glimpsed on David's balcony, he felt the massive energy he sensed earlier had already faded. David's room seemed peaceful. So, for now, he assumed David was safe.

"Really? What about Aurielle and the others?" Sandra asked anxiously.

"Lady Aurielle and Lady Clarista are in the garden with Miss Fani, accompanied by several bodyguards and maids. Master Edward is on his way here. Lady Vianna appears to be heading toward Young Master David's room," Harun explained.

Sandra listened intently.

"As for Young Master David," Harun continued, "I didn't see him anywhere else. But since his room is the only place I couldn't fully view, I believe he must still be inside. The area seemed untouched by the battles outside."

"Should I check again, Madam?" he asked carefully.

Sandra thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"Don't strain yourself. If that's what you saw… then it seems David is safe." She sighed with a touch of relief, though unease still lingered. The information wasn't absolute.

"Then… what about that boy?" she asked again. There was still one name she hadn't heard.

Harun froze. He realized he hadn't checked Al's whereabouts at all. He had even noticed vague glimpses of Yura and Devy, without knowing who they truly were. But Al?

"I-I'm sorry, Madam Sandra. I didn't manage to find him. He wasn't visible among what I saw," Harun admitted, his voice uneasy.

Sandra was slightly taken aback, but she understood—both Harun and the other workers in this house still couldn't fully accept Al. So it was only natural that they sometimes paid little attention to the boy.

"Harun…" Sandra turned her face away, her voice faint. "I know you, and most people here, still aren't ready to accept him."

She rose from her seat, her slow steps filling the silence. Harun bowed his head, uneasy.

She stopped before a large, dusty frame covered with cloth against the wall. Pulling the cloth away revealed a photograph she hadn't seen in years.

"But…" Sandra broke the silence again, her voice trembling. "…he is still my son. My blood." Her eyes lingered on the photo. "So I want you all to recognize your position and treat him with more respect, because in the end, that is your duty... understand the difference in status. He is your master."

"Yes, Madam," Harun replied firmly, though deep down he still felt uneasy referring to Al as his master.

Then Harun joined her side, glancing at both her and the picture. It showed the faint, blurry image of a baby's tiny, frail hand—pale and thin.

"I can't even blame you and the others," Sandra whispered. "Because I was... worse. You all are strangers to him, but me? As his mother… I don't know why I couldn't accept him as I should have. Cruelly, I even had thoughts a mother should never have about her son."

Tears welled in her eyes, streaming silently as she stood tall before the photo.

"Madam…" Harun whispered, uncomfortable seeing her so broken.

But Sandra didn't stop.

"This photo… Sarah accidentally captured it while checking at the hospital. The night he was switched."

Her tears flowed harder, yet she remained fixed on the memory.

"He was born premature… weak since birth. And that fragile baby was taken away, abandoned in an orphanage, forced to face a life of hardship from the very beginning."

Harun handed her a handkerchief, which she accepted without turning back, her voice heavy with sorrow.

"When I heard he was found, I was overjoyed. As if a burden that had weighed on me for years was suddenly lifted. I spent days and nights preparing for his return—everything I had never been able to give him before. Imagining him as my sweet child, handsome and charming like his sisters, I pictured myself holding him in my arms—envisioning him getting along in harmony with his siblings, standing side by side with David as the greatest duo of sons in the world."

She wiped her tears, forcing a small smile.

"I remembered everything. I mourned how hard his life had been. But when I finally saw him…"

She then turned to look at Harun, as if the words she wanted to say were things she shouldn't voice with the photo of Al's tiny hand still before her eyes.

"…for some reason, I don't know how to accept him. I felt so disappointed with what I saw in him that day—as if all my hopes for him vanished in an instant. I even asked myself… is he truly my son?"

Harun could only look at Sandra with pity. His paternal instinct stirred, urging him to comfort her, yet he had no idea how.

"Am I wrong, Harun? Am I cruel? Is there something broken in me?" Sandra asked through tears, which kept streaming no matter how many times she wiped them away.

"Madam… you are not…" Harun replied, though even he was at a loss for words. After hearing Sandra's confession, he thought that if he were in Al's shoes, perhaps he too would have refused to accept such treatment.

Yet he understood well the expectations of the elite—expectations that weighed even on their own children. Compared to many others of their rank, Sandra and Edward were still considered kind. Some elite families would abandon or disown their child outright, simply because they disliked them, or deemed them a burden, or worse, a future problem.

Harun could only sigh, remaining silent as Sandra leaned forward, shoulders trembling, crying helplessly before him.

Not long after—

BEEP!! BRMMM!

With a robotic hum, the heavy steel door slid open.

Edward had arrived, immediately scanning the room and checking on his wife. He saw Sandra in tears, and before her, the familiar photograph hung on the wall. At once, he realized—Sandra had once again slipped into nostalgia, blaming herself all over again.

Edward quietly instructed Harun to stand guard outside with the other bodyguards, leaving him and Sandra alone in the room.

Harun nodded and stepped away, while Edward gently lifted his wife into his arms, letting her cry against his chest.

---

Meanwhile, back at the balcony battle—

Al stared at his hand, which had just deflected Vianna's punch.

That effect again? So it's not just with Father… But why did it work on Sister Sarah back then? Al analyzed quickly.

The strange phenomenon had returned. His magic was nullified the moment it clashed with Vianna's, just like when his magic barrier had been neutralized by his father's slap the other day.

But this time, the effect wasn't limited to Al. Vianna's energy had also been nullified.

Vianna froze, staring at her hand. She had just felt her energy vanish in an instant—only to return the moment she pulled away from the black-clad figure before her.

"What's wrong, Young Lady Vianna?" asked Uncle Acok.

Vianna glanced at him, then sharply turned her finger toward Al.

"You! You can nullify magical energy?!" she shouted, drawing her own conclusion. She had no idea about the strange phenomenon—something Al himself suspected was connected to Blood Energy.

"What?" Uncle Acok blurted in shock.

Al, still bewildered, clenched his fists. Until now, he had believed this effect only happened between him and his father. After all, he clearly remembered using minor spells on Sarah that had worked just fine. But now, both he and Vianna had experienced it.

"What… exactly is this strange phenomenon?" he muttered under his breath, fists tightening.

---

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