In the Wyndhams' throne hall, a long dining table had been set up, loaded with dishes of every kind. The whole place carried the air of a king preparing for a feast—bright lights, polished plates, and the quiet weight of expectation.
The table itself stretched out in a triangular shape, wider at the head and narrowing toward the far end.
At the wider end sat John Wyndham, Jake Wyndham, and Jimmy. That end was broad enough to hold all three comfortably.
At the narrower point sat Lucius, calm and unreadable, his cane resting at his side. Gavalich stood behind him like a carved statue—straight, silent, and sharp-eyed.
Jimmy and Jake wore suits with their coats off, sleeves rolled to the forearm. John, as always, wore his white robe trimmed with gold. Lucius looked like the opposite of a sunrise—dressed in a deep, dark robe that swallowed the light around him.
The rest of the clan filled the seats along the length of the table.
Zephyr, Lennox, and Isla sat in one line—silent, focused, each wearing their usual calm expressions. Alex took the seat with them, sliding into place without drawing attention.
Across from them sat three new faces who had been hanging around the house for weeks now—Jimmy, Henry, and Clifford.
All three wore the golden dogi, the same elite training cloth Alex now wore.
Growing up, Alex couldn't remember ever seeing them around the mansion. Not once. And that bothered him enough that he'd done some digging on the side.
Being a member of the clan—and someone who also wore the golden dogi—he had taken the chance to question Gavalich directly.
And Gavalich, as usual, answered every question without hesitation.
'According to Gavalich, Jimmy and Henry were members of the Vornshade Clan,' Alex thought.
That alone had shocked him.
Every single one of the Vornshade Clan was supposed to be dead. Wiped out. Gone. No survivors.
How Jimmy and Henry had made it out… Alex had no clue. He didn't even know if they had been present during the fight or had escaped long before it happened.
The moment he heard it, Alex's curiosity about the Wyndhams' connection with the Vornshade Clan came roaring back.
But every time he tried to pry deeper, Gavalich shut the door politely but firmly.
Gavalich had only said the clan had fallen, and the Wyndhams had taken Jimmy and Henry in. Their strength earned them respect—and that was where the explanation ended.
'Then there's Clifford,' Alex continued in his mind.
Clifford wasn't a Wyndham. At least… not officially.
But that was all Alex had managed to squeeze out about him.
'He's not part of the clan, and he wasn't part of the Vornshade Clan either. Yet he stays close to them like he belongs here,' Alex thought.
When he pushed for more, Gavalich drew a clear line.
He would give Alex information that helped him understand the Wyndhams, but he wouldn't spill personal details about individuals—especially someone like Clifford.
'And since Clifford isn't a clan member… it seems he doesn't want his identity floating around,' Alex thought.
As the thoughts ran through his head, a sudden shift hit him.
A sensation. A sharp, cold prickle across his skin.
Alex felt a death stare locked on him.
Focused. Heavy. Direct.
Someone at that table wanted him gone.
Looking up from his plate, Alex locked eyes with Jimmy.
Jimmy's gaze was ice-cold. Dark. Heavy with intent.
Alex didn't flinch. He stared right back, unfazed, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A tiny smirk. Just enough to annoy the other guy.
Jimmy's hand trembled on the table. Not from fear—anger. The type that makes someone want to leap across the table and swing.
'He's still mad about last time,' Alex thought.
'Even though he was the one who broke the damn rules.'
Before Jimmy could explode, a calm voice cut through the tension.
"You haven't touched your food."
Alex blinked and turned.
Lucius was watching him.
"Ah… not really feeling hungry," Alex said.
Unfortunately, his stomach betrayed him at that exact moment.
A loud growl escaped, echoing across the quiet part of the table.
Alex sighed and grabbed his spoon, feeling the heat rush up his neck. He started eating right away, trying to pretend the moment didn't happen. His plate was stacked with nothing but meat—so much meat—with only a little soup pushed to the side.
"It is necessary to eat," Lucius said. He lifted a chunk of meat with one hand and tossed it into his mouth like it was nothing.
"Especially protein. As a warrior, your body needs it. It will help you grow stronger."
He chewed once, swallowed, and continued.
"Luckily, being a member of this clan comes with benefits. You're not eating ordinary meat. That is the flesh of a stage three serpent."
Alex's spoon stopped halfway.
'Beast meat?' he thought.
'I'm eating beast meat?'
The thought pulled up memories of every beast he had fought so far—massive creatures, claws, fangs, scales. All of them vicious. All of them dangerous.
And now he was eating one.
His stomach growled again, louder this time.
Alex sighed and took another bite.
His stomach churned again.
He remembered the beasts he'd fought—their strange blood, thick and dark. Some black, some with colors that didn't even look natural. The memory made the meat on his plate feel heavier.
Lucius kept talking.
"Eating a beast's meat will make you stronger. It'll prepare you for the Paragon Battle Royal coming up next."
Then he added, almost too casually:
"Especially for you, Alex."
That line froze the entire table.
Forks paused. Mouths stopped moving.
Even Jake and Jimmy quit chewing.
Alex lifted his eyes slowly.
He wasn't the only one staring at Lucius now—John Wyndham was already burning holes through him.
"What do you mean?" John asked, voice tight.
Lucius didn't even blink.
"I want Alex to participate in the upcoming Battle Royal," he said. Calm. Direct. Like he was announcing the weather.
John's hand clenched into a fist on the table. Everyone saw it. The tension rolled off him like heat.
He stood up without a word and walked away.
Jake and Jimmy followed him immediately, both wearing the same dark expression—one that said this was not part of the plan.
Lucius rose as well and went after them, cane tapping lightly as he exited.
Gavalich remained behind, silent as ever.
The moment all the adults were out of sight, Zephyr pushed his chair back and turned toward Alex.
"You…" he pointed, half annoyed, half impressed.
"You're trouble. Since the day you came back to this clan, it's been one headache after another."
Alex only shrugged.
"Why can't a bastard like you just know your place!" Zephyr snapped, breathing hard, shoulders tight.
Alex didn't flinch.
His gaze moved from Zephyr to Lennox, then Isla, then the rest of the table.
He could already tell whose side each person leaned toward. Some glared. Some avoided his eyes. Some just waited to see fireworks.
Then Alex turned his head toward the only calm person in the room.
"What is the Paragon Battle Royal?" he asked Gavalich.