The winds have shifted in an unfavorable direction. That was the feeling Cronus had when he woke up this morning.

It had nothing to do with his Master-staged body, nor did it had anything to do with his penchant for managing his city and country. If anything, this had to do with his way of life, how he managed to crawl all the way up to the Lord status and reached the Master stage in his life.

It was his instinct, a sense he had developed over the years. Perhaps it was a talent of his, or something he had cultivated throughout many life and death struggles. Even now, he wasn't quite sure which was which.

All he knew was that something bad was going to happen. Something outside of his control. If that is how it felt, then he knew it would only be the childish noble houses as the cause.

He tried to ignore this feeling, thinking it was just a phase, but it only grew as the hours crawled. He asked for various reports, only increasing that feeling when he noticed that House Corran had suddenly made a platoon and sent them off towards the tower in Paragle's territory.

Corran and Paragle were like partners in crime, or pests that gathered together for the same purpose of milking the treasures off of the tower. However, he felt that there was something more to it.

And as usual, his darling wife managed to figure that out for him.

"Honey, I think House Corran is doing something nefarious."

Anabelle spoke up, carrying an assortment of parchments binded together with a string and flipping the papers one after another with a careful eye. There was a frown on that face sculpted in beauty and refinement, furthering Cronus' contempt for the ones responsible for that.

"I do too," Cronus admitted. Currently the two were in the office as usual, but they had only just returned from doing their usual daily traveling around the important facilities and offices regarding the city's welfare.

They weren't tired even after expending so much effort, but they were wary, adding the weight onto their shoulders. Every time they tried to find something, it was as though House Corran or Paragle had a perfect excuse for everything they've done, and according to their own laws, they had done nothing wrong.

And that made Cronus seethe. Those were the very same laws he tried to get rid of, but the nobles were adamant in leaving them alone. It gave too much control to the nobles, allowing them to do as they pleased as the descendants of the casters who first created this pocket dimension.

Even after so many years, they still held them up as though they were the religious texts. Still, that was neither here nor there.

"I have had this sickening feeling ever since I woke up this morning. And there's nothing I can do about it."

"There's always medicine for that, dear," Anabelle remarked, showing no change in her expression as she flipped another dozen pages.

"Funny, dear. But now's not the time," Cronus scoffed. "I have a feeling that Corran and Paragle might make a massive blunder that might end up hurting us later on. Yet, I can't leave to check."

If he did, like predators noticing fresh meat, the other noble houses would pounce on the chance to call him out for his recklessness and irresponsibility. He had enough of the nobles calling him out for his incompetence from those who are literally too fat to even move without the aid of magic tools. However, he can't get rid of this nagging feeling.

The nagging feeling that something was occurring in the tower without his knowledge, something that he had more than enough leverage to do so, yet can't do anything about.

How does one feel when a fragile, well-crafted dinner plate is teetering over the table's edge, and you can't even go and catch it with someone holding you back by the arms? It was frustrating and humiliating.

Unless, however, he called someone that wouldn't mind breaking the table entirely to protect his dinner plate?

"...I think it's time to call her."

Anabelle stopped flipping through her pages, and looked at Cronus with widened eyes. They began to sparkle as a smile rose on her lips, her face beaming at the mention.

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She gasped softly. "You mean we can finally see our little girl again?"

"She's not so little anymore, Anabelle," Cronus said with a heavy breath, holding onto the bridge of his nose. "And you know why we don't usually call her."

"Oh, but it's been ages since we last saw her!" Anabelle beamed further, practically skipping towards Cronus and holding onto his arms with a bubbly tone. "Her letters have been so exciting, but it's not enough. I need to see my darling baby girl!"

"You know why we don't call her often," Cronus said. His expression was just different from the mother's pure excitement. He felt his intestines being tied into a knot.

His daughter had always been… eccentric, even going farther than Cronus and Anabelle themselves. Cronus won't pretend that his own eccentricities haven't given anyone major headaches, but contrary to Cerulean, he was preferable.

But out of all the nobles that were trying desperately to reach master and backstab anyone else who tried to do the same, Cerulean reached the Master stage in just a short amount of her life. Faster than even Cronus, and according to their estimates, faster than any other Journeymen who had historically taken three times as long to reach.

One has to be out of their minds in order to reach the Master stage, and Cerulean fit that criteria.

But that's not to say he hated her. If anything, he loved her more than anything else outside of his wife. That was precisely the reason why he didn't want to call her. Her very presence could enrage the other nobles to try and crucify her for her actions, considering that she had burnt every bridge to the point of making a maelstrom of conflagration behind. In other worlds; nobles hated her.

But she was the only one that can skirt around the laws as her situation was made beyond what Arcelot can handle. Anabelle grasped onto his shoulder with a gentle smile, different from the earlier excitement.

"Dear… sometimes we need to make the hard decisions if it means doing the right thing."

Cronus let out another heavy breath. "I know, dear. I'm just wondering how much catering I need to do to stop the nobles from pestering Cerulean."

"Well now, that has always been a father's job, hasn't it?"

Cronus rolled his eyes. Why does his wife always find a way to make every word count?

That just wasn't fair.

…..

"You're doing great, Clara. Now continue another thirty minutes of that."

"Alright!"

Clara reacted cheerfully, swinging a staff that was a bit heavier than normal staves. Within the open room, her training clothes flipped and hurled as she swung her staff over and over, her face twisted into an expression of concentration.

Alissa's home also had a large room for training, but it was just mostly for putting aside storage for the items she barely used. It was a sort of basement which Mikella and Clara transformed into their own private training room. Ali didn't have an issue with that as it was honestly similar to her own training days. Besides, it was better than leaving Clara to do nothing while her siblings went out clearing towers.

Every time they have to leave, Clara is left behind to do her own thing, which is often training just like this or studying. Apparently in their own world, children her age would normally be at school, a location where all the children around the vicinity would gather and learn from various teachers. They would be educated on all sorts of matters, ranging from mathematics, history, and biology alike.

Such a thing was staggering to Alissa. Apparently it's natural to send children to school, and the fee is something that any normal parent can pay. In fact, it would be strange not to go to school no matter the reason. Considering that the academies in Arcelot are only reserved for noble children, and every commoner child is normally homeschooled, it was only natural for Ali to get confused as to how it works.

However, training Clara in the ways of combat was more natural to her. She remembered training alongside her sister back at their house, and while none of those memories were any good, she gladly helped Clara train when Mikella was away.

When they returned, Zeke would help Clara study some runist lessons as she aimed to be one herself.

For whether Clara intended to be a fighter or a mage, none of them can say. That's something Clara has to figure out for herself.

Suddenly a bright flash of light appeared near Ali, revealing a small letter that appeared in front of her. It fell to her palm as she caught it instinctually, such a thing common for her job as the liaison for Cronus' work.

She unfurled the parchment and read the contents, all the while keeping an eye on the training Clara while Zoan, who stood by while reading as usual, gave her some insight into her movements. When she finished, however, Ali's face nearly paled.

"No way… they're calling for her?"

She almost shivered, imagining god knows how many reports she has to write the moment Ceruleans steps into the scene. However, Ali recognized the strange movements House Corran and Paragle were making, and accepted that even Cronus can't do anything about this.

Still…

The last time Cerulean came by, she destroyed one of the towers connecting the ley lines… the amount of property damage and costs needed to fix everything was staggering.

Then again… it wasn't as though Ali nor Cronus had to be the ones to pay for them.

After all, how can anyone stop Cerulean? And if she was so inclined to do some damage, then it was only a matter of course.

Before she realized it, a smile slowly grew on her lips. It was about time the Houses would get a lesson in how to properly deal with their betters.

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