As I finally reached my residence and plopped down on my bed, face-first, boots still on, dignity already dead—
I could finally vent.
"Damn it."
The pillow muffled my voice, but the frustration came through just fine.
"I knew associating with an Inheritor candidate would land me on the radar of people who wanted branch-head seats."
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
"But still! Being probed by the current branch head herself was uncalled for."
I raised an arm dramatically.
"She isn't even openly supporting or training someone for the position. Not even her own grandson, who awakened three years ago."
Silence followed.
The good kind.
The kind where nobody was dissecting my future.
I exhaled.
Then—
[Oh come on, brat. Feeling out anyone orbiting a potential matriarch is common sense. Stop making such a big deal out of it.]
Nova's voice rang inside my head again.
I froze.
Then slowly turned my head toward the empty room.
"…You're talking again."
[Observational commentary never stopped.]
"That doesn't count," I muttered. "You went dead silent the entire journey back. Through the forest. Past estate. Past the meeting hall. Past walk back."
I sat up. "Why?"
There was a pause.
Not hesitation.
Calculation.
[Because if I had established a continuous telepathic link at that time, you would have been discovered.]
I blinked. "Discovered how?"
[Mental waves.] Nova replied flatly. [Yours are untrained, unmasked, and loud.]
"…Loud?"
[You broadcast intent when you think emotionally. Irritation. Anxiety. Relief. Curiosity. Any trained mind-reader, soul observer, or perception specialist would notice anomalies immediately.]
I grimaced. "But you wouldn't be detected, right?"
[Correct.]
"Then why not—"
[Because the moment you respond, react, or subconsciously align your thoughts to my signal, the connection becomes traceable through you.]
That shut me up.
Nova continued, merciless.
[In short: I remain hidden. You get caught. I am not obligated to be subtle for you.]
"…Wow."
[Accuracy often feels like insult.]
I rubbed my face. "So you stayed quiet to keep me from getting dissected."
[Yes.]
"…Thanks."
Nova did not respond to that.
Of course.
I leaned back against the headboard, letting the tension drain out of my shoulders. For a few seconds, I just listened to my own breathing.
Then Nova spoke again.
[A more pressing question,] it said calmly, [is why do you have a Phantom Reaper acting as your maid.]
I froze.
"…I'm sorry?"
[Your servant. The one designated 'Victoria.']
My heart skipped a beat.
"…You mean Victoria, my personal maid?"
[Yes.]
I stared at the far wall.
"…Victoria is… strong, yeah. But Phantom Reaper, that's an SSS-Rank Class, isn't it?"
Nova's tone sharpened slightly, the way it did when correcting something egregiously wrong.
[She is not 'strong.' She is absurdly strong and overqualified to be a mere maid.]
I swallowed.
[A Phantom Reaper is a high-tier soul-execution class,] Nova continued. [Designed for targeted elimination of entities that cannot be killed through conventional means. They do not serve casually. They are not placed lightly. And they are never assigned as personal attendants to an unawakened child.]
"…She's been with me since the day I was born," I said quietly.
Nova paused.
Not mocking.
Not dismissive.
Just… attentive.
"I don't know why she serves me," I admitted. "I never ordered it. Never asked. She just… did."
I laughed weakly. "Honestly, half the time I forget she's technically my maid and not some kind of terrifying shadow attached to my existence."
[You should not forget that.] Nova said.
"That's hard to do."
Silence settled again.
Then I asked, carefully, "So… why? Can you tell me?"
Nova didn't answer immediately.
I waited.
Finally—
[Do I appear to you as an all-knowing entity?]
I blinked. "…Aren't you an all-seeing lens?"
The temperature in the room dropped.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
[I am an all-seeing lens,] Nova snapped. [Not an omniscient god.]
I stiffened.
[Seeing deeper layers—causality, long-chain intent, binding contracts, reincarnational anchors—requires Soul Power.]
I swallowed.
[Which you currently have zero of.]
"…Oh."
[Without energy, I see structure. Not origin. Pattern. Not purpose.]
That shut me up completely.
Several long seconds passed.
I lay back again, staring at the ceiling, feeling appropriately humbled.
"…So," I said eventually, "when will I be able to talk to you freely? Without alerting half the estate?"
Nova answered immediately this time.
[When you learn to hide your mental waves.]
"…That sounds difficult."
[It is.]
"…Any alternatives?"
[Acquire a disguise-type skill.]
I frowned. "Mental disguise?"
[Correct.]
"Can't I just… learn a technique?"
Nova's response was instant and brutal.
[Half-baked techniques will not suffice in front of people of the Ironcreed family's caliber.]
That surprised me.
"…You say that like you respect them."
[Of course I do.]
I sat up again. "You argued with Soul One. You insulted him. You antagonized him."
[Because he is a friend.]
I blinked.
"…That's your definition of friendship?"
[Yes.]
I hesitated. "But you don't treat my family that way."
[Because your family does not require my dismissal to be acknowledged.] Nova replied calmly.
It continued, tone precise.
[The Dragon Sage himself was only a Transcendent.]
That landed heavily.
[The Ironcreed family,] Nova went on, [has produced Transcendents in every era of recorded history.]
I went very still.
[Only entities on Soul One's level can afford to regard the Ironcreeds as 'just another family.']
"…Soul One is that strong."
[Yes.]
I exhaled slowly.
"So you're saying," I muttered, "that my family isn't just politically dangerous."
[They are universally relevant.]
That might've been the most unsettling thing Nova had said so far.
I lay back down again, one arm over my eyes.
"…Great. So I'm weak, loud, sitting in a transcendent-producing monster family, protected by an overqualified soul assassin maid, and babysitting destiny."
[Correct.]
"…Any good news?"
Nova paused.
Then—
[You are still breathing.]
I laughed.
Soft. Tired. Real.
"…Yeah," I said. "I guess I am."
The room fell quiet again.