After I finished silently brooding over Alfred's stat sheet, Lenna stepped forward and said, as calmly as if announcing the weather:
"Alfred Eswald has been assigned as my personal knight and attendant. Father announced it yesterday."
Alfred gave a short, respectful bow.
"I will be serving Lady Lenna directly… and supporting you as well, Young Master Augustus."
Supporting me.
Right.
My pride took a small but noticeable hit, but arguing with someone who could bulldoze half a training field was not on my to-do list.
Lenna folded her hands behind her back, posture precise.
"Now that our team is established, we need to finalize our dungeon strategy."
I lifted a hand slightly. "Before we begin—"
"No."
She didn't even glance at me.
Hand lowered.
I forced an exhale and tried to follow her explanation.
...
We gathered around a carved formation board in the training alcove. Lenna laid out our positions with controlled certainty.
Arial: Rear support — healer, buffer, emergency purification.
Alfred: Forward striker — elemental offense and parries.
Lenna: Central blade — high mobility, precision hits, priority targets.
Me: Front-left anchor — tanking, detection, controlling enemy flow.
It was a clean plan. Efficient. Logical.
And brutally honest about what would happen:
Arial and Alfred would be carrying us until we caught up.
Lenna didn't sugarcoat it.
I didn't expect her to.
The more I listened, the more I realized something uncomfortable but true:
She wasn't just strong — she understood team dynamics in a way most adults didn't.
We talked through skill combinations, coverage gaps, emergency signals, retreat patterns… all the things that made the difference between coming back from a dungeon and not coming back at all.
By the end, my head felt heavier than my shield.
...
Once strategy was done, Lenna gestured toward the main arena.
"We test it."
The Patriarch must have anticipated the need, because a figure waited there — hands behind his back, gaze sharp but relaxed.
An elder.
He stepped forward with a faint smile.
"I am Elder Jack Ironcreed. A Summoner. The Patriarch asked me to instruct you today."
His voice was pleasant. Too pleasant for someone capable of summoning nightmares.
He clapped once.
A surge of mana rippled across the ground.
A training golem rose from it — larger than normal, plated with beastbone armor, runes glowing along its limbs.
I swallowed. Hard.
Elder Jack gestured.
"You will practice the formation you discussed. Your task is simple: remain standing for five minutes."
Simple, he said.
Lenna stepped forward in an even stance.
Alfred checked his blades.
Arial steadied her staff.
I activated Iron Guard, preparing myself.
The golem roared, a metallic sound that shook the air.
I immediately tried to appraise it—
And hit a wall.
---
> INSUFFICIENT AUTHORITY
TARGET CANNOT BE APPRAISED
---
"What—? I can't appraise it?"
Elder Jack didn't even turn as he answered.
"With your current Authority, you can only appraise targets up to twice your own authority. You're fortunate your appraisal is SS-rank — otherwise, even that wouldn't be possible."
I blinked. "So I'm… blocked by authority? And there are some other skills & artefacts that block or fake it, so don't completly relay on your appraisal only."
"Yes," he said. "Don't worry, As your Authority & Intelligence increases, your appraisal will grow stronger & sharper. At high levels, you could see through nearly anything."
I glanced at the others.
No surprise.
No concern.
Just acknowledgment.
Of course the higher-ups knew.
Still…
"Is all of this public?" I muttered under my breath.
Elder Jack finally looked at me.
"No. Only the Patriarch, the council elders, and your assigned division have access to your profile. That is the extent."
A small weight I hadn't realized I was carrying loosened.
"Alright," I breathed. "Good."
"That said," Jack added with a smile, "it also means those few will expect more from you."
Wonderfully done, which means any dangerous mission or dungeon up my alley will directly be forwarded to me.
...
"Begin," Elder Jack announced.
The golem slammed its fist toward me.
Iron Guard absorbed the impact, but I slid back three full steps.
Alfred stepped in, His sword swing releasing a fireball. Sparks danced.
Lenna followed, slicing cleanly across a joint with terrifying precision.
Arial's Healing Bubble attaching against my back, keeping my breath steady.
Our formation wasn't perfect — but it worked.
I blocked.
Alfred redirected.
Lenna punished openings.
Arial kept our footing from collapsing.
When Jack finally raised his hand, the golem froze in place.
"Good," he said. "Better than expected for a first attempt."
My arms were shaking.
My heartbeat was too loud.
My legs ached.
But something inside me — cheered loudly.
We survived.
Barely, but we did.
And that counted.
...
After many more attempts, we were finally dismissed.
"Tomorrow morning," Elder Jack said, clasping his hands behind his back. "We continue."
The team nodded.
Lenna dismissed us with a brief, "Prepare yourselves."
Arial offered to help me walk.
I tried to refuse… then accepted because my legs felt like wet noodles.
Alfred walked quietly beside Lenna, discussing adjustments in the formation.
As we stepped out of the training grounds, I realized something simple, obvious, and oddly calming:
This wasn't a suicide squad.
This was a real team.
A terrifying one.
A complicated one.
But a team that, whether I liked it or not…
expected me to grow into my role.
For the first time since the ceremony, a thought surfaced — not in panic, but in something almost like determination:
Alright. Fine. I'll grow into it.
One step at a time.
And with that we returned.
...
The moment I stepped into the Second Branch residence, Victoria appeared as if she'd been waiting behind the door the whole time.
"Welcome back, Young Master," she said with a bow. "Your condition?"
"Alive," I muttered. "Barely."
Arial followed me in quietly, eyes lowered, tail of her dress brushing the floor like she was trying to shrink into it.
I didn't waste time.
"Victoria."
"Yes, Young Master?"
"Restrain her."
Arial froze.
Victoria, however, didn't hesitate for a breath.
She stepped forward like a shadow and, in one fluid motion, pressed two fingers against strategic points along Arial's shoulders and wrists.
Soft blue runes lit up across her limbs — a restraint technique only Elite Assassins used.
Arial stiffened, unable to move.
"Restraints applied," Victoria said calmly. "No pain. Full immobilization. Partial mana lockdown."
Good.
"Stand her up," I said.
Victoria guided Arial to the center of the room and stepped back.
Arial trembled — not from fear of Victoria — but because the slave contract forced absolute obedience.
I walked in front of her, arms crossed, letting the silence stretch just enough to make her sweat.
"Arial," I said quietly, "How did you manipulate me while bypassing the skill blocking formation."
Arial trembled under the restraints, her breath uneven, eyes darting between me and the floor.
"Master…" she whispered, "h-how did you know…?"
I stepped closer, arms crossed.
My exhaustion didn't dull the irritation simmering underneath.
"That," I said, "is the simple part."
I raised a finger.
"One — I don't stop mid-sentence because someone tugs my sleeve."
Her lips parted.
"Two — My attention doesn't jump like a startled puppy from topic to topic. I don't get distracted that easily. Especially not around Lenna."
Arial swallowed hard.
"And three," I continued, "I don't shift emotions instantly. I've been beaten, scolded, nearly flattened by a golem, and told my luck stat is tragic. My mood doesn't swing like that."
Silence.
Then—
Her shoulders shook.
"…Master."
"Speak," I ordered. "Truthfully."
Her voice cracked.
"I used… Siren's Call."
Victoria's eyes widened a fraction.
I stayed still.
Arial continued, voice trembling:
"It's an innate skill. One mermaids are… b-born with. It can be directed outward, normally… but the formation today blocked all outward-targeted arts and spells."
She breathed shakily.
"But Siren's Call… can also be used inward."
I narrowed my eyes. "Inward?"
"On myself," she whispered. "It merges into my voice, my emotions… my presence."
Her eyes flicked up to mine, pleading.
"It doesn't go out as a spell. It goes through me. And the formation can't block what stays internal."
Victoria let out a quiet, impressed exhale.
"That's… clever."
Arial flinched.
"It wasn't clever. It was desperate."
I frowned.
"Desperate for what, Arial?"
Her voice broke.
"I-I'm terrified of Lady Lenna."
The room chilled.
Not fear-of-rank.
Not fear-of-nobles.
No — this was different.
Primal.
"Explain," I said, voice low.
Arial's expression contorted with instinctive dread.
"Mermaids," she whispered, "we have something called Deep Sense… an instinct that warns us of apex predators… of beings we should never provoke…"
She shook her head violently, tears gathering.
"When I saw Lady Lenna, when I heard her voice—"
Her breath trembled.
"—every instinct screamed danger. Not status. Not power. Not aura. Something deeper. Something ancient."
Victoria stiffened slightly.
I exhaled slowly.
"So."
I pieced it together aloud.
"You wanted to avoid offending her."
"Yes…"
"And you wanted me to shut up before I called her out for her tone."
"Yes…"
"So you used Siren's Call on yourself. Your charm spiked. The emotional push slipped past the formation. And I—"
"—felt compelled," she whispered. "Compelled to follow the tug. Compelled to… comply."
I rubbed my forehead, muttering, "Great. I got hypnotized by my own slave. Fantastic day."
"Master, I'm sorry—!"
"Arial," I cut her off, "don't apologize for being scared. Everyone with a functioning brain is at least a little scared of Lenna."
Even Victoria gave a small nod of agreement.
"But," I said sharply, "you will never use Siren's Call on yourself around me again without permission. Understand?"
"Yes—yes, Master! I swear it!"
"And you will tell me every ability you possess, every innate power, every mermaid trait — all of it."
"I— I understand."
I stepped back, letting the tension settle.
"Good. Because in the dungeon, I need to trust your instincts. Not be controlled by them."
Arial sagged in relief, restraints humming softly.
Victoria finally spoke.
"Quite wise, Young Master. Harsh but correct."
I shot her a look. "Since when are you the judge of wisdom?"
"Since you started showing some."
Rude.
Arial watched our exchange with a small, fragile hope on her face.
I sighed.
"Arial," I said, "Lenna won't kill you. She's not that type."
Arial whispered, almost inaudibly:
"…I'm not afraid she'll kill me."
A shiver ran through her.
"I'm afraid I'll survive what she can do."
Victoria's expression tightened.
Mine did too.
Because that wasn't normal fear.
That was instinct speaking.
An instinct mermaids used to avoid legendary sea devourers and abyssal titans.
And it triggered…
because of Lenna.
I exhaled slowly.
"…Great. Perfect. Exactly what I needed."
Today, the universe reminded me of something very simple:
I'm in way deeper waters than I realized.