I take a step back.

"Listen," I say, "I don't want any trouble. You can tell Mother, I don't want anything. I came here for myself. I want to learn, attend the Academy, and whatever. In peace. That's why I didn't tell you guys it was me."

Thorne's face opens in a smirk.

"Cloud," he says, "you're afraid, but instead, you should count your blessings."

Kai nods eagerly by the side.

"Grandma has said you'll be adopted!"

"Huh?" I frown. "What?"

Thorne shakes his head and gently places the sword on my shoulder.

"You'll become a Valemont. Mother has been pleading for you for years. Word reached our Royal Grandmother about your deeds in Clearwater. The clearing of the Elite Dungeon—an incredible achievement."

I look at Thorne, dumbfounded.

"She sent me a letter saying that I was summoned to court. I thought I was in trouble. It actually got me mad when I read it."

"Grandma can be mysterious," Kai shrugs. "But you're part of the family now!"

I look at him and frown.

"I—I'm not sure I like this. I really appreciate it. But…"

Thorne seems confused.

"Jacob, do you understand what you're even considering turning down?" Thorne says. "Resources, contacts, networks. Mother wants to adopt you as her full son. Not as a bastard. You'll be a Valemont."

I frown, considering the option for a moment.

In reality, it is enticing.

"I appreciate it," I say, after a beat. "Can I think about it?"

Thorne raises an eyebrow and then shrugs.

"Don't pick that guy while you wait on this decision," Thorne says, pointing at Fatty. "He's terrible. I've seen him here before. Don't shame the family like this. I'll arrange for someone to become your Squire."

"Huh, this guy's actually pretty decent. No one's ever tutored him right, though."

Before Thorne can say anything, I hear a shrill laugh.

"Oh my, oh my, the Valemonts!"

We all turn to see a slender man walking in. He's carrying daggers at his waist, and his aura is not at all weaker than Thorne's.

"Who's that?" I lean and I ask Thorne.

"Lucen Margrave. The Margrave Royal Family has been the enemy of our Kingdom for centuries. We're not often at war, but…"

"War?" Lucen Margrave says, laughing. "War with us? You'd lose like the bunch of dogs you are. Want to go now, little Thorne? Or do you remember how the last bout went? Ahahah!"

I look at this Lucen Margrave and frown.

Why is his voice so high-pitched?

"And who could this be?" Lucen says, angling his face at me.

Maybe I should avoid mentioning that I'm related to them, I think.

"He's a proud member of the Valemont Family! And I'm his Squire!" I hear Fatty announce from behind me.

I turn, wide-eyed at the idiocy of this guy.

Lucen Margrave's mouth curls into a thin, contemptuous grin. His eyes dart between me and Lancelot, and I see a glimmer of disbelief mixed with the raw, gleeful malice that people like him always carry.

The tiger at Thorne's feet growls, its ears flattening as the crowd's focus shifts to Lucen. The other Squires all take a step back, and I can feel the tension crackling around the square.

"You? A new Valemont, a bastard, arrives at the Academy? I didn't know Prince Priscilla Valemont…" Lucen's voice rises, sharp as broken glass, but then he stops when he feels Thorne's aura exploding forward—he doesn't dare insult our mother. "And he's picking this—what is he, a court jester? Your Kingdom has fallen further than I thought if this is the new standard." He flicks his gaze over Lancelot with deliberate disgust, then meets my eyes. "Or do you simply want someone to blame when you fail your first year? Very clever."

Then, the man stops and smiles even more widely.

"It'd be a pity if a new Valemont died during his first year here."

"He's our half-brother," Thorne says, "he's with the Valemont Family, Margrave. Something happens to him, it's war."

What? Are they serious?

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They can't be, right?

Lucen narrows his eyes at Thorne and says.

"I don't think I'll need to do anything personally. The Fatty is not qualified to be a Squire, and he's your little brother's choice."

"Jacob is not stupid!" Kai replies. "He's… not that knowledgeable! He didn't know the Fatty was weak!"

I look at Kai, and my face contorts in an expression of astonishment.

Can people here stop insulting me?

"Excuse me," I say, "Lucen Margrave?"

"Yes, bastard?" Lucen smiles politely back at me, but he insults me to my face.

"Yes, Jacob the Bastard," I extend a hand, and he looks at it so confused that he actually shakes it. "Anyway, the Fatty here might look ridiculous, but he's pretty good, actually. I'm surprised no one ever noticed."

"What are you talking about? What nonsense is this?" Lucen Margrave says.

"The Fatty," I smile, "just wasn't trained properly. An expert trained me in secret. My master taught me a lot. The fact that you couldn't see that the Fatty has a great talent means your training resources and your Tutors must have been… subpar."

I hear Thorne actually snicker from behind me.

"You dare?!" Lucen Margrave says. "You really think this fatso would be able to reach the threshold in a month, by the time the registration closes?!"

"A month," I laugh, "ten minutes, really."

This time, Lucen Margrave looks at me like I was dropped on the head as a child.

Lucen Margrave's sneer barely wavers. He turns to the crowd, sweeping his arm wide, and his voice rings out over the square, pulling in every eye. "Hear that? Ten minutes! The Valemont bastard says his piglet Squire will break five hundred on the target in ten minutes!"

The square falls silent for a moment. Then the laughter comes in a slow wave. Some of the older Squires elbow each other, while a pair of bored-looking instructors near the archway start taking notice. Lucen does not look away from me, but his smile goes thin and sharp.

A boy in battered bronze armor jabs his friend in the ribs.

"The Valemonts really will pick up any stray dog, huh? Guess bastard blood runs thick in that one."

A red-haired girl with a crooked nose scoffs loud enough for everyone to hear. "Should've let the fat one jump. It'd save the Academy the paperwork."

Another boy snorts. "Didn't know you could qualify as a Knight by embarrassing yourself. Maybe I'll trip over my own feet next year—see if they let me in."

"It's fine, we'll see at the end of the year who was right and who was wrong," I say, stepping into the space between Lucen and Lancelot.

Lucen doesn't back down. He watches me for a moment, then flicks a platinum coin into the air. He catches it, flips it through his fingers, and tosses it at my feet.

"Two hundred platinums," he says. "You want to stake your pride? Make it your purse too. If your piglet Squire breaks the threshold in ten minutes, I'll pay out. If not, you cough up the same. I want to see if you've got the guts to match your mouth."

I glance at the coin on the ground.

I have barely a handful of platinums left after buying my gear, and certainly not two hundred. Still, I can't let Lucen think I'm backing down.

I cough and look at Kai, who stands beside Thorne, arms folded and eyes wide with excitement.

"Kai," I say, voice low, "I don't have that kind of coin. Can you—"

Kai grins, reaches into his coat, and pulls out a coin so large and heavy it glows with mana. A diamond coin.

"Bet in platinum?" Kai laughs. "That's for peasants. Let's bet in diamond coins. One diamond coin from each side."

The whole crowd stiffens. Even Lucen stares at the coin in Kai's hand. He hesitates, then his own Squire steps forward from behind him, produces a velvet pouch, and extracts a single diamond coin to match.

Holy shit, I think, feeling sweat dripping down my back now.

"Huh, Jacob—I'm not sure about this," Fatty says, panicking and grabbing my arm. "Maybe I should just go—"

"Shush," I tell him, starting to feel anxious.

Ten minutes? Will that be enough?

"Kai, don't waste money," Thorne groans. "Jacob, what are you even doing? Are you an idiot? Mother doesn't send us that much money. Not to me and Kai, at least. We have to earn it! Diamond coins are not—"

"It's fine," Kai shrugs. "Jacob seems sure of this."

"Why would you—" Thorne groans. "You idiots. Two idiots. I swear, the Valemont blood started running thin after me."

"Fine. Diamond, then," Lucen says, voice thin and strained. "Let's see this miracle."

I nod, sweat prickling at the back of my neck. Kai claps me on the shoulder. "You've got this, brother. Don't sweat it."

Easy for him to say. I pull Lancelot aside, away from the crowd and the noise, and crouch so we're eye to eye.

"Listen up," I say, keeping my voice hard and steady. "You're about to try something no one thinks you can do. But you have one thing they don't—me. What's your best Skill?"

Fatty looks like he's on the verge of crying, with snot already running down his nose.

"The Golden Palm, but every time I use it, I faint!"

"Ok, channel the Skill, show me. Don't use it. Just channel."

He does, and I see his palm glowing.

I close my eyes, drawing the Grimoire's power into focus. Words and diagrams bloom in my mind, invisible to everyone else.

[Analysis commencing.]

[Golden Palm (Gold)]

[Constitution found interfering.]

[Constitution: Heavenly Dragon Constitution (Dormant/Inverted)]

Primary Channel Flow: Paradoxical Inversion

Left and Right Meridians: Swapped

Heart Meridians: Rotated, Out of Phase

Mana Intake: 98% wasted

Explosive Output: Potential exceeds standard for Gold Rank, but output is blocked by paradoxical circuit

Resilience: Survival against all odds, even with mangled channeling—tenacity far above baseline

Major Flaws:

Paradox Channels: Every input is output and vice versa, left and right are reversed

Skill Leakage: Every time he uses Golden Palm, channels misfire, causing fainting and pain

Instability: Under pressure, mana surges backward, burning stamina instead of fueling force

Physical Output: Potential for titanic strength, but locked behind paradox—skill may damage user until inversion is solved.

Hidden Annotation:

[Heavenly Dragon Constitution: The greatest blessing for a Draconic body refiner, but when the channels are inverted at birth, only extreme trauma or an outside guide can realign the flow. Most with this constitution die in infancy. Survival until adolescence is near impossible.]

Holy shit, I think, for the second time in minutes. I knew this guy probably had some weird block and was hiding a great potential—I could tell from how nimbly he was moving. But this? This is…

I smirk, looking back at Lucen and then at Lancelot.

"So, this is going to be much easier than I thought," I tell Fatty. "You know the Meridians you're using for the palm, right? Have you studied them?"

Fatty nods up and down, with tears streaming down his cheeks, clearly feeling the pressure at the fact that he got in the middle of this bet.

"Alright, just, literally, just do the opposite of what you were trying to do. Invert left and right."

Everyone around us who hears me starts laughing.

"Your half-brother is truly a dimwit," Lucen laughs out loud.

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