"What nonsense are you talking about?"
Muria's expression was tinged with bemusement. "Because you're my mother's reincarnation, I recognize you as such. But all your current relatives are irrelevant to me. Your present father is not my grandfather."
"You don't recognize him? Fine, then stop calling me your mom!" Arina snapped back, refusing to yield an inch. If he insisted on calling her his mother, then he'd have to acknowledge her family too.
"Alright, then I won't call you that," Muria replied nonchalantly. He had no interest in forcing the issue. If not for the fact that she was his mother's reincarnated body, he wouldn't have paid her any attention at all.
"Then leave. Don't interfere in my life," Arina demanded, pushing further.
"What a dreamer," Muria replied with a dismissive smirk. "I'll leave when my mother's true consciousness awakens, not a moment sooner."
Leave? That wasn't happening. Without his mother's memories, who knew what kind of reckless behavior her reincarnated self might engage in? Especially given the hints of her erratic personality, seemingly influenced by the traits of a golden dragon.
"Until then, I'll stay by your side. But let me be clear—your family has nothing to do with me."
"That's so unreasonable!" Arina exclaimed, frustrated by his stance.
"Reason? Strength is reason," Muria replied calmly. "If you want things to go your way, then you need enough strength to make it happen. If you want me to leave, defeat me."
He tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming. Among the Titans, their rules for interacting with outsiders were straightforward—only strength earned respect.
"It seems you're quite confident in your power, even here in the Frankel family's domain," a deep, steady voice cut through the air.
Muria turned to see a middle-aged man with an air of authority, his appearance meticulous from his neatly combed hair to his perfectly tailored attire. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he approached with deliberate, measured steps, exuding a calm yet commanding presence.
"And who might you be?" Muria asked, glancing at the newcomer.
"Is that your father?" Muria turned to Arina.
"Yes, that's my father, Duke Benedict," she replied, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. As a man who had risen to become the head of one of the empire's most powerful families by his early forties, her father was a figure worthy of admiration.
Her tone carried a natural sense of pride in her family lineage, which Muria could understand—though understanding didn't mean he cared.
"Oh." Muria finally gave the duke a cursory glance. "What did you just say? Repeat it; I wasn't paying attention."
"How dare you!"
The guards flanking the hallway bristled at Muria's disrespectful tone, but Duke Benedict remained calm, his expression unchanged.
"Stand down," the duke commanded, waving his knights away. He continued to regard Muria with an unyielding, yet polite, gaze. "I was asking for your name."
"You may call me Mr. Muria," the boy replied, clasping his hands behind his back as he studied the duke. He had seen countless shrewd leaders like this man and had no patience for their political games.
"Impudent!"
The guards once again grew restless, but Benedict raised a hand to silence them. "Mr. Muria, then," he said, his tone still polite despite the boy's attitude. "Let me be direct: why did you follow my daughter back here? What do you want from the Frankel family?
"If it's within my power, I'll grant your request—on the condition that you leave my daughter alone and stop pestering her."
"Not bad, as far as fathers go," Muria said with a nod, glancing around the grand castle. "Unfortunately, I'm not here for your family. You have nothing I want. My only reason for being here is Arina."
"I hear you claim my daughter is your mother's reincarnation," Benedict said, his tone laced with incredulity.
"That's correct."
"And your proof? You just looked at her and decided she was your mother's reincarnation? What nonsense is this?"
"Of course not," Muria replied calmly, pointing to his own golden eyes. "I see her. My mother is within her."
"Then why can't I see anything?"
"Because we're not the same," Muria replied with a faint smile. "You and I see the world in completely different ways."
"Well, if you're going to put it that way, there's no point in arguing," Benedict said with a resigned sigh. "But do you really insist on staying by my daughter's side? Is there no room for negotiation?"
"There isn't," Muria replied, his tone casual but firm. "I'm a father myself, so I can understand your concerns. If you're unhappy with my presence, you're welcome to try and drive me out by force."
"Very well, then," the duke replied with a faint smile. Though he preferred to avoid violence, there were times when it was necessary. "Guards, expel him from the castle!"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Attack!"
"Kill the monster!"
With the duke's command, the knights drew their weapons and charged at Muria, their eyes burning with determination.
"Finally," Muria muttered, watching the escalating chaos with a faint smirk. He raised a finger, and the small serpent dragon perched on his shoulder let out a ferocious roar.
The dragon flapped its tiny wings twice, and its diminutive form suddenly expanded, growing into a massive, fifty-meter-long beast. The castle entrance shattered under the sudden explosion of its enormous body, sending debris flying and plunging the scene into chaos.
Roar!
From outside, the grand castle's main gate—once a symbol of the Frankel family's might—collapsed into rubble. Moments later, the serpent dragon burst through the debris, its wings spreading wide as it soared into the sky with Muria standing atop its head.
From below, dozens of armored knights gave chase, leaping into the air to engage in what looked to be a dramatic battle against the dragon.
But the fight ended as quickly as it began. A brilliant golden light erupted in the sky, spreading out and bathing the area in an overwhelming radiance. The suffocating pressure of an otherworldly force filled the air, and one by one, the knights plummeted back to the ground, leaving small craters in the earth.
Meanwhile, the serpent dragon circled above, emboldened by its dominance. It opened its jagged maw, unleashing a torrent of dragon fire that melted the rubble below into rivers of molten lava. The once-grand castle courtyard became a hellish landscape, except for one small, untouched area.
There, Duke Benedict stood unscathed, shielding his daughter with his own power. Neither he nor the ground beneath him showed any sign of damage.
"This dragon is what forced you to submit?" Benedict asked, his expression thoughtful as he watched the knights struggle against the beast.
"Yes, but it's not just the dragon," Arina replied, her gaze fixed on the golden light above. "That boy… his strength is far greater. I'd say he's nearly at the level of a god."
"A demigod…" Benedict sighed, shaking his head. He turned to his daughter with a pensive expression. "What's your impression of this peculiar child? What kind of person is he?"
"Honestly, he's not bad," Arina admitted after a moment of thought. "He's arrogant and overbearing, sure, but he's upfront about everything. He doesn't hide his intentions."
"In that case, do you think you could live with him by your side for the long term?"
"What?! Father, what are you trying to say?" Arina's heart sank as an ominous feeling crept over her.
"I'm saying it's impractical to drive him out. With his power, even if we used every resource at our disposal, it wouldn't be enough to stop him from returning. So why not accept him?"
Benedict's tone was calm, almost as if he were proposing a simple business arrangement. "If he's strong and has no malice toward you or our family, why not just acknowledge him as your son for now?"
"Are you really my father?" Arina shot him a skeptical look, disbelief written all over her face.
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