“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“I think something is wrong with my eyes.”
“That is obvious.”
Amos slowly sat upright in bed. The moment he opened his eyes fully; the world exploded into color. Not normal color.
Mana.
Thin streams of pale blue drifted through the air like mist. Golden light flowed faintly through the walls of the estate itself. The magic lamps glowed with intricate circuits he somehow understood instinctively. Even the wooden furniture carried traces of mana from years of enchantments and use. It was beautiful.
Amos blinked hard.
The streams remained.
“Oh no, I can't turn it off.”
Elena stood beside the curtains calmly.
“Young Master’s eyes have changed.”
“That sentence sounds deeply concerning.”
Amos looked down at his own hand. His skin carried faint traces of crimson and gold mana flowing beneath it like tiny rivers. His heartbeat felt heavier now. Stronger. Every breath pulled mana naturally into his body without effort.
Then his gaze shifted toward the silver spoon resting nearby.
And suddenly.
He understood.
Not just the material.
Its value. The spoon was ordinary silver. Poor craftsmanship. Slightly uneven balance. Decorative engraving made by a mediocre artisan trying too hard to imitate noble style.
Amos froze.
“Why do I know that?”
Elena tilted her head slightly.
“Young Master?”
“I can look at a spoon and instinctive know how much value it carries.”
A pause.
“That is new.”
Amos slowly looked around the room again.
The curtains?
High quality silk, Expensive.
The chair Elena sat on?
Old hardwood strengthened by magic, definitely Reliable, slightly overpriced.
Elena herself?
Priceless.
His eyes slowly widened. Then his gaze drifted toward the direction of the treasury far below the estate.
Even from this distance, he could feel it.
Gold, Artifacts, Relics, Mana-rich treasures.
His heart skipped slightly like talking to a high school crush.
“I understand dragons now.”
“Yes.”
“No seriously. I truly understand now.”
Amos placed a hand over his chest.
“The desire to sleep on gold is overwhelming.”
“Young Master is becoming strange.”
“That is just your usual opinion of me.”
“Yes.”
Amos swung his legs off the bed carefully.
The moment his feet touched the floor.
CRACK.
The reinforced marble beneath him fractured slightly.
Amos stared downward.
Then at Elena.
“Woah.”
“...”
“I forgot my own strength.”
“Young Master only stood up.”
“This is still very impressive.”
Elena sighed softly.
“The dragon blood elixirs strengthened your body significantly.”
Amos flexed his fingers slowly. He could feel it now.
Power.
Not just mana.
His body itself had changed, senses were sharper. Amos truly felt the weight of the Kyros bloodline.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
The atmosphere changed instantly. Amos’s expression stiffened. The mana in the room trembled slightly. Even the flowing currents in the air instinctively shifted away from the door. Elena straightened immediately.
“I forget to tell you that Master has returned early.”
Amos blinked.
“Father? As in my father? As in the head of this duchy? Patriarch of Kyros?”
“Yes.”
A strange pressure spread quietly beyond the room. Amos had felt dragon mana yesterday. This felt different. The dragon blood inside his body reacted instinctively. Not with hostility and caution.
Amos slowly turned toward the door.
“Wait.”
His voice lowered unconsciously.
“Why does it feel like there’s a natural disaster standing outside my room?”
Elena answered calmly.
“I will pray for your survival.”
The door opened.
Lord Aros entered quietly.
Golden hair darker than Amos’s. Sharp golden eyes carrying centuries worth of pressure. A black coat draped over broad shoulders. No mana erupted from him. Everything around him was simply… suppressed. As though the world itself lowered its voice in his presence.
Amos froze completely. His new eyes activated instinctively and for a single moment.
He saw it—an ocean. No, the sun. Golden mana so dense and massive that Amos’s vision nearly blurred from trying to comprehend it. Crimson traces mixed within it like ancient blood soaked into gold. The mana around Aros wasn’t flowing. Every particle near him moved according to his existence alone.
Amos’s breathing stopped because he finally understood something. The stories about his father were not exaggerated. Not even slightly. This man could probably walk into a battlefield alone and decide the outcome by himself.
Aros’s gaze moved toward him.
Amos felt like every secret in his soul had been seen through completely. Then his father’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Interesting.”
Amos almost shot straight up from the overwhelming pressure, instinctively throwing up a hand in defense.
“Elena, what happened?” Lord Aros asked to Elena instead of Amos.
Amos immediately pointed at Elena.
“She encouraged me.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did so.”
“I actively attempted to stop you.”
Aros looked between them silently. Then his gaze landed on Amos again.
More specifically, his eyes. The faint crimson rings inside his green iris.
Silence filled the room.
Amos suddenly felt very small.
Then, Aros walked closer.
One step forward closer and Amos’s instincts screamed louder than when he touched the relic. The difference between himself and a true monster. Aros placed one hand on Amos’s head. Mana surged lightly through his body.
Amos stiffened.
Then his father spoke quietly.
“You succeeded.”
Amos blinked.
“Huh?”
"The family heirlooms have accepted you. No, they’ve chosen you."
Aros’s expression remained calm. But Amos noticed it.
The faintest shift in his father’s eyes as if a piece of puzzle finally found and completed it.
Aros’s hand remained on Amos’s head for several silent seconds. The mana flowing through Amos’s body instinctively calmed beneath his father’s touch, like wild beasts lowering themselves before something higher in the food chain. Amos swallowed slowly. This man is absurd. No wonder everyone feared him. No wonder the Empire tolerated House Kyros acting however it pleased.
Because if Lord Aros truly wished to do something.
Who could stop him?
Aros finally removed his hand from Amos’s head and straightened.
Then suddenly.
Aros flicked Amos directly on the forehead.
PAK.
“OW!”
Amos clutched his forehead immediately.
“What was that for?!”
“You entered the family treasury without my permission”
Even that small movement carried strange pressure. Effortless. Controlled. Like a dragon stretching after a nap.
Amos rubbed his forehead dramatically.
“You hit too hard.”
“I used almost no strength.”
“That is definitely a lie.”
“Yes,” Elena agreed.
Aros ignored both of them completely.
His sharp gaze remained fixed on Amos’s eyes.
“The Dragon Traits have awakened earlier than expected.”
Amos blinked.
“Dragon Traits?”
“The changes make you closer to a dragon biologically.” Aros spoke calmly, as though discussing the weather rather than terrifying hereditary superpowers. “Your eyes have evolved.”
“That sounds like a great news for me.”
“It is.”
Amos slowly touched his own face.
“So, I can permanently see mana now?”
“For now.”
“For now?”
“Your mind and body are still adapting. Eventually, you will learn control to turn it off.”
“That implies I currently do not have control.”
Lord Aros pointed at the cracked marble near Amos bed.
“Right.”
Aros glanced briefly toward the damaged floor.
Then toward the dozens of artifacts Amos still wore.
Amos suddenly felt nervous.
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Why does Father have that expression”
“He is likely deciding your fate.”
“That’s unfair. I was just exploring.”
“You robbed the treasury.”
“I have authority to enter; That's basically a permission.”
Aros finally spoke again.
“Why are you wearing seventeen enhancement artifacts simultaneously?”
Amos froze.
“How did you know?”
“There are nineteen,” Elena corrected.
A beat.
“One necklace broke,” Amos defended himself weakly.
Silence.
Aros closed his eyes briefly. The expression of a father wondering how his son survived this long.
“Elena.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Why did you allow this?”
“I attempted to stop him.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
“I heard that.”
Neither of them acknowledged Amos.
“Father.”
“Yes.”
“I need you to know this immediately.”
Aros waited calmly.
“The treasury is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
“To think the heir of House Kyros would awaken dragon instincts this strongly,” Aros muttered.
“That’s not denial.”
“No.”
Amos placed a hand over his chest solemnly.
“When I saw the gold yesterday”
“Yes.”
“Something inside me healed spiritually.”
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Monitor his spending from now onward.”
“Understood.”
“Traitors.”
Aros ignored him again.
“The Heart of Mana was created by one of our ancestors specialized in knowledge on heart.”
Amos immediately straightened.
“Oh.”
“The Dragon Blood Elixir was created using that dragon’s heart blood, different ancestor.”
“Oh.”
'It must be the one I saw from that time'
“You have taken both.”
Silence.
“You inherited the blood of conquerors.”
His father’s voice remained calm and steady.
“The urge to dominate, to claim, and to chase strength above everything else.”
For the briefest moment, Amos thought he caught the corner of Aros’s lips curling upward ever so slightly. That terrified Amos more than the overwhelming mana did.
“Father.”
“Yes.”
“Did you just almost smile?”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“Yes.”
“Did Father just almost smile?”
“No.”
“You’re both gaslighting me.”