"Is there anything else?"
The voice echoed inside a quiet study, its interior defined by a refined blend of white and deep navy blue, the walls lined with polished panels and subtle gold accents that reflected a restrained sense of authority rather than excess, while a large desk stood at the center, immaculate and imposing, with soft ambient light casting long shadows across the room.
Seated at the head of the desk was a middle-aged man, his posture straight and unmoving, his head full of white hair contrasting sharply against his sharp golden eyes, which remained fixed on the holographic figure projected before him.
Across from him, the image of another middle-aged man shimmered faintly, his expression warm and smiling as he spoke.
"I hope our children are getting along well."
Duke Valecrest did not respond to the sentiment, his expression unchanged as he asked instead, his voice calm and direct.
"Are there any moves from the Valmont Duchy?"
The holographic figure—Count Halewind—let out a light chuckle before replying.
"Well, I did receive a letter…" he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, "but the terms are far less than what you are promising."
He laughed softly.
Duke Valecrest remained silent, his gaze unwavering.
Count Halewind tilted his head slightly, his smile lingering as he continued.
"But seriously… I didn't expect the Duke of Valecrest to make a transaction where he is the one losing out this much…"
His eyes narrowed just a fraction, curiosity slipping into his tone.
"Is it because—"
"I don't think a merchant like you cares for reasons more than profit," Duke Valecrest interrupted, his voice cutting through the moment with quiet finality.
For a brief second—
Silence.
"Hahahahahaaaha!"
Then Count Halewind laughed again, more openly this time.
"That's right," he admitted easily.
Before anything further could be said—
Knock! Knock!
A knock sounded at the door of the study, sharp and controlled.
Duke Valecrest's gaze shifted briefly toward it before returning to the hologram.
"We will speak later," he said.
Count Halewind nodded once, his image flickering before disappearing entirely, leaving the room still once more.
"Come in," the Duke said.
The door opened smoothly.
The head butler stepped inside, bowing slightly as he spoke.
"Sir… the youngest master and mistress are awaiting your presence."
***
The café table had transformed completely from its earlier state, now filled with an assortment of pastries and steaming cups, the soft clinking of utensils and the low hum of the surroundings blending into a surprisingly calm atmosphere as Damon sat with one leg crossed over the other, casually sipping from his cup of coffee while observing his party.
His gaze moved across each of them in turn.
Mira sat quietly, holding a small spoon as she took delicate bites of a strawberry pastry, her movements careful and almost overly conscious, as though she was aware of being watched even when no one was directly looking at her.
Zarhka, on the other hand, held a cup of milk tea in both hands, her posture relaxed but attentive, while Vaelith sipped from a cup filled with a faintly glowing green liquid, its contents unclear yet unmistakably different, his expression as composed as ever.
Eric, meanwhile, had already abandoned any sense of restraint, taking large, enthusiastic bites out of a chocolate pastry, leaving faint smears across his face without the slightest awareness.
Damon let out a quiet breath before setting his cup down, his gaze shifting toward Zarhka.
"Let's start with you, Zarhka," he said, his tone calm but directive, "tell us about your resonance… your strengths… and your weaknesses."
Zarhka looked up immediately, her eyes flicking briefly toward the others as if gauging their reactions, a hint of hesitation creeping into her posture as she adjusted her grip on the cup.
Damon noticed.
"You don't have to say anything you are not comfortable sharing," he added, his tone softening slightly, "just focus on what will help the team utilize you better… and what might put the party at risk."
Zarhka exhaled slowly, her shoulders loosening as she nodded.
Damon leaned back slightly, taking another sip of his coffee as his thoughts moved quietly beneath the surface.
Of course… no one would reveal everything to people they just met…
Time will expose the rest on its own…
Zarhka placed her cup down carefully before speaking, her voice steadying as she began.
"My resonance… is called 'Iron Horn Rampage,'" she said, her tone carrying a grounded weight, "it enhances my physical strength, especially in short bursts… and reinforces my body for impact."
She lifted her hand slightly, flexing her fingers as if to demonstrate.
"I can channel the force through my horns, shoulders, and arms… making my strikes heavier and harder to stop… and my endurance increases when I keep pushing forward."
There was a faint pride in her voice now.
"My strength lies in direct combat," she continued, "I can take hits… and return them stronger… and the longer I stay in close range, the more effective I become."
She paused briefly.
Then—
Her expression shifted.
A small hesitation.
Her gaze lowered slightly as she added, her voice quieter now.
"I-I am… weaker than other beastmen in physical strength…"
The admission did not come easily.
"Most beastmen are naturally gifted physically… but…" she trailed off for a moment before finishing, "…my raw strength is lower compared to them… so if I face someone purely stronger, I may struggle to overpower them."
Silence followed for a brief second.
Zarhka's fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table.
Then she straightened again, her expression steady once more, as though she had forced herself past that moment.
Damon gently placed his cup back onto the table, the faint clink barely audible beneath the soft café noise as his gaze lingered on Zarhka for a moment longer, his thoughts already shifting into a more calculated direction.
Hmm… I definitely have better use for her than just straightforward combat…
Without voicing it, he turned his attention toward Vaelith, who seemed to understand immediately, giving a small nod before setting his cup aside and speaking in his usual composed manner.
"My resonance is called 'Sylvan Phase Drift,'" Vaelith began, his tone calm and precise, "it allows me to move through terrain with minimal resistance, adapting my body to the environment around me, whether it is dense forest, uneven ground, or obstructed paths."
He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully.
"I can alter my movement patterns in real time, reducing friction, bypassing minor obstacles, and maintaining speed where others would slow down," he continued, "this makes me highly effective in repositioning, flanking, and avoiding direct engagements."
His eyes remained steady.
"My strength lies in remaining composed under pressure," he added, "I do not panic easily, and I can maintain clarity in chaotic situations."
Then came the limitation.
"At this stage," he said, his tone unchanged, "I can only sustain this state for approximately two minutes before my body begins to lose stability, after which my mobility drops significantly."
Damon nodded slightly, his fingers tapping lightly against the table as his thoughts aligned.
…Interesting resonance.
There are definitely ways to utilize that better…
He shifted his gaze.
To Eric.
Who was still entirely absorbed in devouring pastries, clearly more focused on his plate than the discussion.
"Eric."
Eric looked up immediately, crumbs still at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes, boss?"
Damon tilted his head slightly.
That was enough.
Eric straightened, clearing his throat as he quickly transitioned into what he clearly thought was a respectable explanation.
"My resonance is called 'Fortuitous Trigger,'" he began, his tone suddenly serious, "it increases the probability of favorable outcomes in uncertain situations… basically, when something can go right, it leans toward going right for me."
He grinned slightly.
"It works best in chaotic or unpredictable scenarios… like traps, random attacks, or risky decisions… things just… tend to work out."
He leaned back a bit, clearly proud.
"My strength is my sharp mind and adaptability," he added, "I can read situations quickly and take advantage of opportunities as they appear."
Then he paused.
"As for weakness…" he said confidently, "I don't have any."
Damon didn't even hesitate.
"Apart from being a coward."
Eric froze.
"…Boss…"
Damon ignored him completely.
His resonance….I need to study more..
His gaze moved to Mira.
She stiffened instantly under the attention, her hands tightening slightly around her cup before she slowly began speaking, her voice soft and hesitant.
"My resonance… is 'Harmonic Vitalis'," she said, looking down as she spoke, "I can heal others as long as they are not at death's door… and at this stage, I can only heal up to a certain extent before I get exhausted."
Damon leaned slightly forward, his eyes narrowing just a fraction.
"So basically… like a potion bag," he said, his tone matter-of-fact, "but instead of carrying potions, you are the source… and just like a potion bag, once depleted, you cannot be used again until you recover."
Mira blinked, then nodded slowly, her face faintly red as she glanced at him shyly.
"Y-yes…"
"A-as for my strengths," Mira hesitated.
"I-I don't have any… in particular…"
Damon didn't respond outwardly, but his thoughts were clear.
Your resonance itself is a cheat code…
"A-and weakness," she continued.
Mira's shoulders trembled slightly as she lowered her gaze even further, her voice dropping into something small and fragile.
"I… I cannot fight at all…"
There was a brief silence.
Then—
As if suddenly remembering something, she quickly raised her fists, her expression turning determined despite the obvious nervousness.
"B-but I will definitely learn!" she said, her voice trembling yet firm, "I won't be a burden to all of you!"
Damon gave a small nod, acknowledging Mira's words before he uncrossed his legs and straightened his posture, the shift subtle yet enough to change the atmosphere at the table as his presence sharpened slightly.
"My resonance is called… Fractured Ruin," he said.
The moment the name left his lips, everyone's attention tightened, their earlier casual demeanor replaced with focus, as none of them had heard of it before, yet all of them had witnessed—directly or indirectly—the sheer destruction he had caused during the placement exam.
Damon continued without pause.
"It fractures the surrounding mana," he explained, his tone steady, "making it difficult for others to use their resonance smoothly within my range."
A brief pause followed before he added, "My strength lies in close combat… and physical capability."
The table fell silent as no one interrupted.
But the questions were there.
Clear and lingering.
It was Vaelith who finally spoke, his voice calm yet direct.
"Then… what about the form you underwent during the placement exam?"
Damon's fingers stilled for a moment as he took a slow breath.
Then leaned back slightly, his gaze lowering just enough as he answered.
"That…" he said, his tone quieter, "is my weakness."
He did not elaborate immediately, letting the words settle before continuing.
"My strength and speed increase dramatically in that state," he added, "but… it is better if we do not reach that phase."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
No one spoke.
No one pressed further.
But the weight of what remained unsaid lingered at the table.
Damon's eyes lowered briefly.
I do not trust them enough to tell them about losing control…
A quiet resolve settled within him.
I will bring it under control… soon enough.
This… is also a test for them..
It was Mira who broke the silence first, her voice soft yet sincere.
"W-we will try our best to help you…"
Damon looked up.
One by one—They all nodded without mockery..
For a brief moment, something unreadable passed through his gaze before it disappeared just as quickly.
"I would like to keep this matter among ourselves," he said, his voice calm, yet carrying a quiet authority, his golden eyes moving across each of them with a cold steadiness that left no room for misunderstanding.
He did not wait for a response.
"So…" he continued, as if shifting the weight of the conversation deliberately, "shall we discuss which Level 2 breach to pick?"