Meanwhile.
Several kilometers away.
Inside a luxurious VIP hospital room illuminated by warm lights, a tense atmosphere lingered in the air.
A middle-aged man stood beside a hospital bed.
He appeared to be in his mid-forties.
Sharp features.
Well-maintained appearance.
The aura of someone accustomed to authority.
This was Robert Hayes.
On the hospital bed lay Marcus.
Or at least what remained of him.
His face was swollen beyond recognition.
Bruises covered nearly every visible inch of skin.
Several bones remained fractured despite receiving treatment.
The sight alone was enough to make most people wince.
Beside the bed sat a heavily made-up woman.
Her face was filled with concern as she gently stroked Marcus’s hair.
A painful groan escaped Marcus’s mouth.
His swollen eyes turned toward Robert.
"Father..."
His voice was weak.
"You have to avenge me."
The woman immediately nodded.
"He’s right."
Her expression darkened.
"That little bastard actually dared to do this to my sister’s son."
"You can’t let him get away with it."
"You have to make him pay."
Robert remained silent.
His brows slowly knitted together.
A dilemma weighed heavily on his mind.
Marcus was his son.
No matter what, seeing him reduced to this state naturally filled him with anger.
But the situation wasn’t that simple.
The boy responsible appeared to have some sort of connection with the Sword Saint’s granddaughter.
That alone made things complicated.
Very complicated.
Could he afford to make a move?
The answer arrived almost immediately.
No.
Absolutely not.
The moment he crossed that line, he wouldn’t simply be dealing with a teenager.
He would be provoking one of the most influential families on the planet.
The woman frowned when she noticed his silence.
"Why aren’t you saying anything?"
"Are you really going to let this go?"
"If my sister were still alive, she would’ve already taken revenge for her son."
The moment those words left her mouth, Robert’s expression darkened.
His patience snapped.
"Enough."
The room instantly fell silent.
His voice was cold.
Colder than either of them had ever heard before.
His gaze swept across both of them.
"No one in this family is making a move against that boy."
"Not me."
"Not you."
"Not anyone."
The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.
Marcus immediately lowered his head.
Even the woman fell silent.
Robert took a deep breath.
The mention of Martha had stirred old emotions.
His late wife.
The woman he had loved more than anyone else.
Even now, years after her death, he had never truly moved on.
In fact, he had never remarried.
Well...
Mostly.
A strange look appeared on his face.
His so-called marriage with the Saintess hardly counted.
Anyone within the upper circles already knew about the bizarre relationship between the Saintess and her husband.
The famous couple had an almost supernatural ability to create chaos wherever they went.
Whenever they fought, one of them would somehow end up marrying someone else out of spite before eventually reconciling again.
Over the years, countless innocent people had become unwilling participants in their strange marital disputes.
Robert included.
When the Saintess approached him with marriage papers, refusing wasn’t exactly an option.
Not when the Sword Saint stood behind her.
Signing the papers had simply been the safer choice.
Thankfully, everyone involved understood it wasn’t a real marriage.
Still, the memory remained irritating.
His gaze drifted back toward Marcus.
For a moment, complicated emotions surfaced within his eyes.
Marcus’s birth had taken Martha’s life.
A fact Robert had never fully managed to forget.
Part of him pitied the boy.
Part of him resented him.
Although a part of Robert knew Marcus wasn’t truly responsible for Martha’s death, another part of him desperately wanted someone to blame.
And the easiest person to blame was Marcus.
After all, Martha had died bringing him into the world.
It was an ugly thought.
A selfish thought.
Yet no matter how many years passed, he could never completely rid himself of it.
Because of that, the relationship between father and son had always been strained.
Robert never neglected his responsibilities.
Marcus had received the best education.
The best tutors.
The best resources money could buy.
Everything a father was expected to provide had been provided.
Everything except love.
That was the one thing Robert could never give him.
Every time he looked at Marcus, he was reminded of the woman he had lost.
As a result, he gradually distanced himself.
And with Robert absent from his life, Marcus ended up being raised primarily by his aunt, Martha’s younger sister.
Unlike Robert, she adored the boy.
She spoiled him endlessly.
Anything he wanted, he got.
Anything he asked for, she provided.
Robert had never bothered interfering.
As long as Marcus wasn’t causing any major problems, he simply let it happen.
Unfortunately, that indifference had eventually come back to bite him.
A couple of days ago, the Young Sword Saint had personally paid him a visit.
Even now, remembering that meeting made his stomach tighten.
The man had arrived carrying information regarding Marcus.
Information that revealed Marcus had attempted to harass one of his daughter’s friends.
The moment Robert heard those words, a chill had run down his spine.
Fortunately, the Young Sword Saint hadn’t come looking for trouble.
He had only been there to pick up his wife and happened to mention the matter in passing.
Even so, Robert clearly understood the underlying meaning.
Had the situation escalated any further, things could have ended very differently.
The mere thought of it made cold sweat gather on his back.
In a way, he felt hurt twice.
The first reason was obvious.
His son had nearly dragged him into a disaster.
The second reason was far more frustrating.
He couldn’t even seek revenge for Marcus.
Even if he somehow found the courage to make a move against the boy, there was another issue.
A far more troubling one.
After investigating Kael’s background, Robert had uncovered something strange.
The boy had only awakened a few days ago.
A few days.
Yet despite that, he had utterly defeated Marcus.
Not only had he won, he had done so without suffering any injuries himself.
The more Robert looked into the reports, the more absurd they seemed.
Such growth simply didn’t make sense.
At least not according to common knowledge.
No ordinary Awakener should be capable of achieving that.
Because of this, a certain suspicion had begun forming in Robert’s mind.
The Sword Saint.
It was common knowledge among the upper circles that the Sword Saint had been searching for a disciple for years.
Yet despite countless geniuses presenting themselves, none had managed to catch his interest.
Could Kael be that disciple?
A secret disciple carefully hidden from the public eye?
The possibility wasn’t impossible.
In fact, the more Robert thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.
Of course, he possessed no evidence.
Nothing concrete.
But that hardly mattered.
Businessmen like him didn’t survive by taking unnecessary risks.
They survived by avoiding them.
Robert hadn’t inherited his empire.
He had built it from nothing.
Every achievement.
Every connection.
Every ounce of influence he possessed had been earned through decades of careful decisions.
And one of the most important lessons he had learned was simple.
Never gamble against uncertainty when the consequences are catastrophic.
If there was even a small chance that Kael was connected to the Sword Saint, Robert had no intention of touching him.
The room remained silent after his declaration.
Neither Marcus nor the woman dared speak.
Seeing that his words had finally gotten through, Robert let out a tired sigh.
Without another word, he turned around and walked toward the door.
The moment it closed behind him, silence once again filled the room.
For several moments, nobody spoke.
Then, slowly, the expression on the heavily made-up woman’s face changed.
The concern disappeared.
The sadness disappeared.
What remained was something much darker.
Her eyes narrowed coldly.
It was clear she had no intention of letting the matter end here.