Zephyr, Lennox, and Isla had always been a problem for Alex. A quiet kind of problem—the type that shows up, ruins your day, and walks off like they did you a favor.
But ever since Alex left the Wyndham house, they barely saw him. No face, no fight.
Now that he was back, it was only a matter of time before they picked up right where they left off.
"Look who we have here," Zephyr said, stepping out from behind the hedge.
"Alex—the bastard child of the Wyndhams."
Alex breathed in slow, choosing to ignore him. Today wasn't the day for drama.
Zephyr's smile thinned when he got no reaction. The boy hated silence—hated being dismissed.
He lifted his finger toward Alex.
A small flick.
Like he was kicking dust off the air.
A tight burst of compressed wind shot out.
It tapped Alex on the forehead—more annoying than painful. A sharp push of air in one spot… then gone.
Alex finally opened his eyes, calm but focused.
He turned toward Zephyr—and that's when he saw the rest.
Lennox, Isla, and three unfamiliar faces behind them, watching like they were here for a show.
Zephyr stood front and center like he owned the place. Bald head shining, egg-shaped skull catching the light, pale skin almost glowing.
He was tall for his age, fit, and carried himself with the confidence of a paragon warrior who thought the world revolved around him.
Behind Zephyr stood Isla—tall, egg-shaped head like him, but with a close crop of hair instead of bald. Lennox towered over them both: lanky, the tallest of the three. Skinny, but you couldn't doubt his strength; he moved like a warrior who'd been trained.
Trailing a step behind were their friends. Jimmy—chubby, cheeks flushed—grinned like he expected a show.
Henry was small, quick-eyed, a jittery kid who kept close. And then there was Clifford, not wearing the clan cloth. He hung back with his hands in his pockets, like this was none of his business.
"You know… since I came back, I hoped you'd have grown up. Bullying's for weak losers running from their own lives," Alex said, voice steady.
Zephyr's face twisted. His siblings' expressions hardened.
"Just because you've been dragged into the family business, you think you can talk back to us now?!" Isla snapped, sharp enough to cut. She looked like she'd strike next.
'Family business,' Alex thought, calm but bitter. 'I'm one stage below you — one careless move and you'll see what that really means.'
Ever since he got the system, Alex had checked people's stages when he could. John, the Wyndham patriarch, and the uncles were stage 5. The cousins—each of them—ranked stage 4.
Alex knew the Wyndhams had been tied to the paragon world long before he was born. Their history ran deep—old alliances, old battles, old pride. Stage 4 and 5 weren't small achievements, not by any means. But watching them now… he couldn't help comparing.
For all their reputation, their progress felt slow.
'I guess the Pendragons' training strategy is way more efficient,' Alex thought, a faint edge in it.
"Alex… Alex!"
His name snapped through the air. Loud. Sharp. It yanked him out of his thoughts like a slap.
He blinked and looked up.
"Can you not shout my name like that? I'm literally standing right here," Alex said.
"Arhmmm!" Zephyr grunted. His jaw tightened. His fist clenched like he was fighting the urge to swing.
"You really don't seem afraid at all," Lennox said suddenly.
Lennox stepped a little closer. His tone wasn't loud—just cold, like he was stating a fact.
"You've probably learned the basic sense of qi. Good for you. But that's not what makes you strong."
He pointed at Alex's chest with a slow, mocking jab.
"You're still far below our level. No matter how much you train, you'll never catch up. You'll never stop being weak. And you—" Lennox smirked, eyes narrowing,
"—will never stop being a bastard."
Zephyr and Isla grinned like they'd been waiting for that line all day.
Alex smiled too. Calm. Almost playful.
Inside, though, a sharper thought slid through him.
'This might be a dumb move… but maybe it's time to make an example.'
He raised his chin. Looked straight at Lennox.
"I might not be at your stage," Alex said, voice steady. "And I don't have the kind of qi control you three swing around…"
He paused. The smug look grew.
"But without qi? In pure hand-to-hand? I can beat every single one of you in a one-on-one fight."
His words hit the air like a challenge tossed onto a quiet table.
And it stayed there—heavy, daring, and impossible for any Wyndham to ignore.
Zephyr and his siblings froze. Their mouths twitched, eyes wide, like Alex had just announced he could fly.
But they weren't the only ones caught off guard. Jimmy, Henry, and even Clifford—who always acted like nothing touched him—stared at Alex in open shock.
"You do have balls, don't you," Clifford said, eyebrows lifted.
"Would you like to go first?" Alex asked.
Clifford's face tightened. His hands slid out of his pockets, fingers flexing as he squared his shoulders. For once, he looked serious—ready to walk straight at Alex.
But someone else stepped in before he could take a full step.
"I'll take this one, Clifford," Jimmy said, lifting a hand to push him back.
Jimmy's heavy steps came forward. His round face was calm, but there was a sharpness in his eyes.
"Honestly, Isla… when you told me you had a bastard cousin, I didn't expect him to be this arrogant."
He turned fully toward Alex.
"I'll do it your way. No qi. Just natural strength. Pure fighting style."
Alex couldn't help it—he smiled.
Inside, a quick thought clicked into place.
'I suppressed my qi, but I didn't suppress my techniques. He's stage 4… this won't be easy. But I don't mind.'
Alex shifted his stance.
Jimmy rolled his shoulders, settling in.
The air around them tightened, like everyone suddenly understood something real was about to start.