In the imposing Chronos estate, Bastien followed his father through the long corridor leading to the family's secret chamber. Since childhood, this place had been strictly forbidden to him, fueling both his curiosity and impatience.

  They descended into the basement. There, an absolute, impenetrable darkness reigned. Jacques extended his hand and activated his alteration magic. A luminous sphere ignited in his palm, casting long shadows throughout the room.

  Bastien widened his eyes.

  Around him stood armored mannequins, relics of a warrior past. Runic and techno-magical weapons shimmered under the light, meticulously arranged on dark metal displays. Ancient paintings, artifacts, and relics from the Great War adorned the walls.

  At the center, a vast space was marked by a pentagram painted directly onto the ground, its intricate tracings interwoven with mystical symbols that seemed to pulsate under the magic’s glow.

  Jacques stopped. He stared at the pentagram for a long moment before murmuring,

  "Here we are, Bastien… This is where you will understand."

  A sigh escaped his father, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. He had no desire to do what he was about to do.

  Bastien frowned.

  "What do you mean, Father?"

  Jacques slowly lifted his gaze to meet his son’s.

  "It’s time to reveal the truth… and for that, we must go back to the time of the Great War."

  "At that time," Jacques continued, "I was still the head of Concordia’s Special Intelligence Agency. Our mission was to secure victory over Tempestas before the war even began."

  "The information we had gathered indicated that the leader of Tempestas, after uniting all the clans, was preparing a large-scale invasion. We had to strike first."

  Bastien listened intently.

  "We received orders to storm his native village and capture his family as leverage. A strategic hostage-taking, meant to prevent conflict... or so we believed."

  Jacques paused before continuing, his tone graver.

  "When we arrived, we found only women and children. Only one warrior stood in our way."

  "Sefu Abdul Ciss. A young mage of exceptional talent. His magic was as brutal as it was swift. He killed two of my men before we even understood what was happening."

  Jacques briefly closed his eyes, as if reliving the duel from long ago.

  "I managed to subdue him. But he was… promising. At his age, I could never have accomplished what he did that day. Without realizing it, I began to feel respect for him."

  He paused, his gaze lost in the past.

  "That young man, alone, had allowed his people to escape. He had cut our numbers in half and held his ground against an entire Concordian unit. If we couldn’t take his family hostage, we had to settle for him."

  "I brought him back to Concordia." Jacques met his son’s eyes. "I decreed that he would remain under my watch… as a servant, bound to my wife, your mother. He would protect her in my absence."

  Bastien’s eyes widened.

  "You made him a slave?!"

  "I did what I believed necessary at the time. The time we spent together made him my most loyal friend. We both wanted to end the war," Jacques replied, his voice unwavering. "I had a vision: if I could prove to the Council that Sefu could integrate into our culture, then peace with Tempestas was possible. How naive we were…"

  A heavy silence settled.

  Then Jacques spoke again, darker now.

  "What I didn’t anticipate… was your mother."

  "My mother?" Bastien whispered.

  It was the first time his father had ever mentioned her.

  "I trusted Sefu to protect her. Unfortunately, the Council disagreed. And when a new war broke out, I was called back to the battlefield, this time directly to the War Council."

  "For years, I fought on the lands of Tempestas. Until we finally took Stormhold, the capital."

  Bastien swallowed hard, unable to imagine the brutality of those war years.

  "Upon my return, I was appointed Grand Consul of the Council of Sages," Jacques continued. "A title granted by Lord Concord himself."

  But his tone suddenly darkened.

  "I was powerful, but power creates enemies. A few months later, Grand Priest Lucius Robert, envious of my rise, sent assassins to my doorstep."

  Bastien held his breath.

  "During the attack, Sefu died protecting your mother. She, gravely wounded, survived just long enough… long enough to bring you into this world."

  Jacques fell silent, his jaw clenched.

  Then, at last, he lifted his eyes to Bastien.

  "That’s when I understood."

  A cold shiver ran down Bastien’s spine under his father’s inscrutable gaze.

  "Seeing your face, feeling your magic… I knew."

  The silence became unbearable.

  "The betrayal was there, obvious, etched into your blood."

  Bastien felt his heart stop.

  "Overcome with shame, hatred, incomprehension…" Jacques paused, his voice hoarse. "I wanted…"

  "To make you disappear."

  Jacques inhaled deeply, as if struggling to suppress the memory.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Then, in a whisper,

  "But… I couldn’t do it."

  Jacques turned away, as if fleeing a burden too heavy to bear.

  "There was only us left. You were innocent. I couldn’t."

  Bastien swallowed with difficulty, feeling his world shatter, piece by piece.

  This morning, he had lost his best friend.

  Now, he had lost his father.

  "Why… did you lie to me? I don’t understand! This Sefu you speak of, he’s my father? I’m not your son? How is that possible? I don’t understand—"

  "Son, I am your father, even if blood does not bind us. You are my son, and you always will be."

  A melancholic yet warm expression softened the adviser’s face.

  Evoking the past had been painful, but he had to continue.

  Bastien was in danger.

  "Bastien, you must understand something. You are half Tempestan, and if Concordia had found out, you would have been executed immediately for a crime against nature. To protect you, we altered your genetics. I contacted my friend Agatha Miracle, and thanks to her, we modified your appearance and magical structure to erase all traces of your Tempestan heritage. Thus, Concordia never discovered the truth."

  A step back. A sharp breath.

  "So… I’m safe?"

  Jacques sighed. An immense weariness weighed on his face.

  "No, Bastien… the seal is weakening. These past few days, haven’t you felt different? Haven’t you questioned things more than usual? Haven’t you taken reckless risks?"

  Bastien nodded. He finally understood why he had been acting so strangely lately.

  "That is the sign of the seal breaking. Soon, it will shatter completely, and it will be up to you to decide whether to renew it or embrace your true self…"

  Bastien clenched his fists.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  Jacques stepped forward.

  "I have crystals containing your mother’s blood. By performing the ritual, they could have maintained your form for another eighteen years. But today, I cannot allow you to do so."

  "Father!" the young man exclaimed. "I am what I am. I accept my heritage, and I will challenge those who stand in my way."

  Bastien rarely spoke with such conviction; the fire within him burned brighter than ever.

  Jacques Chronos smiled with admiration.

  "Then you are truly my son," he said, embracing him.

  A few minutes later, Jacques explained his plan.

  Once night fell, he would take Bastien to the lower city. Far from the magnificent quarters of the academy, where servants, workers, farmers, and bandits lived.

  There, he would entrust Bastien to Maurice Green, one of the leaders of the Concordian Mafia. Maurice and Jacques had often worked together during the war or on certain missions for the council. Maurice was a strict, calculating man, driven above all by his personal interests and those of his family.

  "The Mafia? What reason do they have to cooperate with us?"

  *"The Council of Sages has been monopolizing the supply of magic stones used to fuel techno-magic for years now. The Mafia, which once handled the transportation of these stones, has lost a great deal of influence.

  The drug trade, powered by stone powder, was the cornerstone of their business. It is now impossible for them to resupply. Most of their leaders and soldiers rot in the empire’s cells. They know about Tempestas, and they want to help bring down the empire.

  They want you to act as a direct link between the people of Tempestas and them. You would allow them to resupply in stones..."*

  "So you want me to help the Mafia with drug trafficking?"

  "Do you have a better solution?"

  Bastien didn’t have time to answer. The villa’s alarm rang out—someone had infiltrated the estate.

  "Son, get ready. They’re here."

  Alex Aster had just entered the Chronos villa. This place stirred up nostalgic memories—memories of the time when he was still the protégé of Grand Councilor Jacques Chronos. In all honesty, Alex had idolized his master for a long time.

  Their split had happened the day Jacques lost control and struck his student upon learning of the role he had played in his own son's death.

  The policeman had understood something that day: his master, too, was weak. But he also knew he still wasn’t strong enough to surpass him at the time.

  But today was different.

  If his former master stood in his way, Alex wouldn’t hesitate.

  The secret police agents broke down the front door. Three figures awaited them—Jacques, Bastien, and Elena.

  Without a word, Elena immediately activated her link with her master, who began his incantation:

  "By the heritage of Chronos, I summon Ballerine."

  From a violet light burst forth a double-edged axe, adorned with crimson rubies, red like blood.

  Ballerine was, just like Alex’s sword, a legendary weapon from the Great War. Its primary characteristic: explosion.

  "Good evening, dear student. Officers, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

  "I think we both know why we’re here. Hand over the boy, and we’ll leave immediately," Aster replied, his hand ready to draw his weapon.

  Jacques Chronos smiled again. But his eyes revealed the storm of rage that burned inside him.

  "My dear friends, I kindly ask you to leave. I won’t stain my beautiful home with your blood."

  His gaze hardened, his facial expression intensified.

  "Now shoo."

  With a single sweep of his left hand, he sent the entire squad flying out of the house.

  And yet, Jacques was already behind them, his axe in hand.

  Bastien was stunned. This was the first time he had ever seen his father in action.

  With his left hand, Jacques pressed a mechanism on the axe’s handle. The weapon split, revealing a chain linking the two halves.

  "And now, you’re going to leave!" Jacques roared.

  He spun his axe, and in an instant, three of the ten officers fell victim to the explosion.

  Alex Aster knew he’d be in a dire state if even one of those blasts touched him. He immediately drew his legendary sword.

  With his weapon enhancing his speed, Aster seized the brief window between the axe’s throw and its return to its master to launch his attack.

  But Jacques knew his former student’s techniques well—he parried the strike effortlessly with the chain of his weapon.

  Two officers appeared behind him, trying to take him by surprise. Jacques infused his magic into the air, creating an invisible barrier at his back. The officers slammed into it violently.

  The fight was getting intense.

  Even for him, facing an exceptional warrior like Alex, ten elite officers, and protecting his son all at once was no easy feat.

  The old man took two steps back.

  Suddenly, a powerful explosion sent him flying.

  The officers had planted invisible mines throughout the area.

  Bastien watched the whole scene. He understood instantly.

  "Activate," he commanded, prompting his drone to scan the area for information.

  Five officers remained—plus Aster.

  Could Jacques handle them?

  "Elena, go!" Jacques ordered.

  Elena, without hesitation, summoned two fire avatars.

  With the drone feeding him real-time data, Bastien knew exactly where the explosives were. He, along with the two avatars, launched a coordinated assault on the remaining officers, destroying as many mines as possible.

  Bastien stayed cautious.

  Each of these officers was at least as strong as him—probably stronger.

  He had to be cunning.

  Turn invisible. Strike from behind. Manipulate their perception.

  But suddenly, Bastien dropped to his knees before his final opponent—he was out of magic.

  Jacques, meanwhile, had just sent his former student crashing to the ground with a powerful punch.

  He immediately rushed toward Bastien to protect him.

  Aster got back up, dusting off his coat.

  "Master, you’re still stronger than me—that’s a fact. But you won’t win. Age is catching up to you. And I still have cards to play."

  He whistled.

  A squad of twenty officers materialized, led by the Vice-Captain of the Police—Marc Maxwell.

  This man, barely in his thirties, was known as "Bone" for the sheer pleasure he took in breaking the bones of his victims during interrogations.

  Though only a vice-captain, Bone was vastly superior to Alex in raw strength.

  Feared by all in the police force, his presence here could only mean trouble.

  "Vice-Captain Maxwell reporting, sir! Do I have authorization to engage?" he asked, his lips curling into a psychotic grin.

  "Granted," Aster confirmed.

  "We’re screwed," Bastien muttered.

  With Bone and all these officers... what could they do?

  His father looked at him, his expression gentle despite the situation.

  "Bastien, I need you to gather your strength and give them your best illusion. I need time to prepare my attack. You’re about to see what your old man is truly capable of."

  Bastien obeyed immediately.

  He stepped forward, pressed his palms together as if in prayer, and began to charge his energy.

  He was so focused that he barely heard his father whisper:

  "I’m sorry, my son. Find Maurice Green."

  Jacques’ palm touched Bastien’s back.

  Suddenly, Bastien’s entire body froze. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak.

  He knew what his father was about to do.

  The Chronos family’s special magic—teleportation.

  It allowed the user to teleport an object or a living being to a predefined location. But the greater the distance, the more it drained the caster’s magic.

  In an instant, the young boy disappeared from sight.