In the Wyndham mansion's vast garden—where vines curled into maze-like paths and soft grass spread like velvet—a waterfall spilled from a tall rock, crashing into a clear pond below. Mist rose from the constant pour, wrapping the place in a faint, white haze.
Lucius sat in the middle of the pond, water lapping at his waist. The falls hammered down around him, each splash sending ripples that shimmered in the morning light. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deep—steady, deliberate.
He wasn't alone.
Outside the pond stood the Triple Js, along with a few house guards. They'd been there for a while now, watching in silence. The air felt heavy, and not just from the steam. None of them spoke; they only watched Lucius, their eyes fixed on the empty space where his arm used to be.
The wound was long healed—no blood, no pain visible—but the sight still unsettled them. The memory of how they'd found him was fresh: broken ground, the scent of burnt air, and the eerie quiet that followed. Whatever had happened out there, Lucius hadn't said a word about it.
He'd shut everyone out.
Finally, Lucius opened his eyes. His gaze was calm but distant, as if part of him was still lost in that battle. Water streamed down his face as he stood, his lone arm hanging loosely at his side.
Not a single word was spoken, but everyone watching could feel it—something about Lucius had changed.
He was naked, standing knee-deep in the pond, but none of them looked away. They'd seen worse. The air was thick with steam and unease.
"Eddie is dead," Lucius said flatly.
James let out a sharp scoff. "Like anyone actually cares about that brat." His tone carried more irritation than grief. "What we do care about is you. How the heck did you end up like this?"
That hit the air hard. Everyone knew why Lucius had left the mansion in the first place—to find Eddie. And now… Eddie was gone, and Lucius had come back half a man.
"I want to speak to John alone," Lucius said.
"What? Why?" Jake snapped, voice rising. "We're part of this clan too, you can't just—"
Lucius turned. His eyes—cold, sharp—cut straight through Jake. For a split second, Jake's breath caught. A chill ran down his spine, and he instantly shut up.
That look was enough to remind him who he was dealing with. Wounded or not, Lucius was still a Stage Seven warrior.
Without another word, Jake and James exchanged glances, then left with the guards. Their footsteps faded into the distance, leaving only the hiss of falling water.
John stayed behind, hands in his pockets, studying Lucius quietly.
"You didn't send them away because of their mouths, did you?" he said finally.
"You think I won't ask the same thing—but trust me, I'm dying to know what the hell happened out there."
Lucius didn't answer right away. He turned toward the waterfall, letting the mist wash over his face. Then his fingers glowed faintly, and a soft shimmer of light wrapped around him. A garment appeared, covering his body in seconds.
"It's not that," he said quietly. "As a matter of fact… I want to tell you everything."
"Nice. Why don't you start with how you lost your arm?" John said.
"I don't mean just that when I said 'everything'," Lucius corrected, turning back to face him.
"I mean everything — why I started this journey, why I wanted to build a clan with you," Lucius said, steady now. "I'll tell you everything."
---
At the top of the power chain among paragon warriors, a single headline had splintered the old order: the nine divine beings had placed a bounty. It wasn't whispers or rumor — it was official, loud, and impossible to ignore.
When the news dropped, the paragon world reacted like a struck bell. There was anger. There was greed. There was fear. Mostly, there was appetite.
The reward was obscene: a seat — literally a place among the divine. Ten deities instead of nine. Power, influence, immortality by proxy. That prize made men who'd long chased glory suddenly reckless.
What hooked most warriors wasn't just the prize. The bounty looked easy on paper. Not a standard fetch or kill mission. Not capture, not assassination. This one had a twist.
They were to find the Pendragons — a small, deadly group of paragon-level warriors — and force them to fight. Not to kill them outright. Just to keep them in battle long enough to make the Pendragons burn through their full power. Draw them out. Make them show everything they had.
It stated clearly: once the Pendragons were engaged, the nine divine beings would descend themselves to witness the outcome and deal with the situation.
Only then would those who orchestrated the encounter — the ones who successfully drew out the full power of the Pendragons — receive the promised reward.
Since then, though, no one had even come close. Those who tried either fell quickly or failed to push the Pendragons to their limits. The mission had never been completed.
Part of the problem was information — or rather, the lack of it. The public got a name, nothing else. No description, no hints at appearance, no insight into the powers these warriors wielded. Everything else was a blank.
Even with such scarce details, the bounty had reached only the top clans and the most powerful individuals. Yet Lucius, back when he was still at a lower stage, had stumbled across the information. Like any ambitious paragon warrior—or mage—he had felt his curiosity ignite.
The bounty became his obsession. He made it his personal goal to track the Pendragons, to find a way to complete the mission. Every decision, every plan, every movement he made had been geared toward this.
Through careful plotting, Lucius had discovered John Wyndham and his family. Together, they began forming a small clan, growing their strength steadily over time. The Wyndhams never knew the true purpose behind his guidance—until now.
Lucius didn't hold back. Every detail poured out—the Vornshade Clan, the battle, the injury that had cost him his arm. He told John everything, leaving nothing hidden.
John sat still, absorbing it all. For a long moment, he couldn't even find words. He knew about the nine divine beings, of course. He had heard Lucius' stories countless times, tales of unimaginable power and authority. But this… this was different.
He thought back to when Lucius first approached him, speaking of paragon beings and proposing they start a clan together. At the time, John had assumed Lucius had some hidden agenda—but he hadn't cared. The lure of power had been enough; the chance to work with a paragon warrior had thrilled him. He had been enjoying the ride, focused on strength, growth, and influence.
Now, hearing Lucius' confession, the full scope of his purpose hit John. It was bigger than he could have imagined, a plan reaching far beyond personal gain. Lucius' intentions had always been carefully hidden, unfolding only now.
Then Lucius reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. It gleamed faintly under the light.
"This," he said, holding it steady, "is something valuable. A direct contact card to Jovisrax, one of the divine beings."
John leaned in, eyes narrowing slightly.
"If other clans—both big and small—ever find out we have this, they'll come at us. They'll try to take it by force," Lucius warned.
John studied the card carefully, but he didn't reach for it. It wasn't his to take. Not yet. It felt too precious, too dangerous to be held casually in anyone's hands.
"Am telling you all this to make one thing clear," Lucius said, his voice firm, eyes locking onto John's.
"From now on, we're stepping up our game. This card… it can bring a lot of trouble if it falls into the wrong hands. But used right, it can give us the edge we need. The kind of power that can take us places we never imagined."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. The steam from the waterfall hissed softly around them, but neither of them moved.
"We have to step up," he continued, his tone sharper now, commanding. "Every skill, every talent, every connection we have… we put it all to work. Even if it means shaping Alex—your grandson—into a paragon warrior, we do it. No half measures."
He let the last words hang in the air, the determination behind them unmissable. This wasn't just strategy. It was a declaration.