Chapter 373: Reality
The words came out conversational, like he was explaining basic mathematics.
Damian’s hands clenched into fists.
"You–"
"Let me finish."
Something in the Patriarch’s tone made Damian’s words die in his throat.
"Us Patriarchs and the elders currently have no interest in creating conflict with the military or Headmaster Kaiser over some kid."
He held up one finger.
"But if you push too far, if you force our hand..."
A second finger joined the first.
"The military will make stern faces and kill a few of our subordinates... Kaiser will express disappointment but ultimately step aside because he understands the political realities that govern our world."
A third finger.
"And you, along with everyone connected to you, will simply cease to exist."
The fire crackled between them, orange flames dancing across dead flesh.
"Not as punishment... Just necessity. The same way I killed this beast because it threatened students. Nothing personal, just maintaining order."
The Patriarch lowered his hand, his expression still friendly and open.
"Do you understand what I’m telling you?"
Damian’s throat felt tight, his breathing shallow, but he managed to speak.
"You’re... threatening me."
"No no no."
The Patriarch shook his head with genuine seeming regret.
"I’m explaining reality to you... There’s a difference. A threat implies I want something specific from you, that I’m trying to coerce your behavior through fear."
He gestured broadly at the forest around them.
"This is just an old man helping a young one understand the world he’s walking through. The rules that exist whether you acknowledge them or not."
His smile returned.
"Here’s the interesting part... I’m not here to stop you. Your actions serve as a catalyst. The world needs strong soldiers who understand genuine struggle, not broken commoners who see themselves as inferior, not arrogant nobles who underestimate everyone."
He leaned forward slightly.
"What you’re doing, the changes you’re forcing... It’s making people stronger and making them think."
The Patriarch’s orange eyes gleamed in the firelight.
"So continue your work... Your organization, your reforms, your noble ideals."
A pause.
"But reduce your direct aggression against the Imperials themselves. Make your changes through the systems rather than trying to tear them down."
He spread his hands.
"That’s the balance you need to find. Change the world without making us destroy you for it... Be useful."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by crackling flames.
Damian’s mind churned.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Ah, good question!"
The Patriarch’s smile widened with genuine pleasure.
"The only reason I bothered showing up here personally rather than sending some subordinate to deliver warnings was because you helped me get rid of a traitor."
He gestured at Damian casually.
"Jormund Royce... The man who worked with assassins, who betrayed his blood for money."
Recognition flashed across Damian’s face.
The Patriarch’s expression went cold for just a moment, the friendly mask slipping to reveal something ancient and terrible underneath.
"Jormund was my grandson."
His voice stayed level, but the temperature dropped noticeably.
"He violated everything our family stands for."
The cold vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"You killed him... Saved us the embarrassment of executing our own blood publicly."
He stood up in one fluid motion.
"So I’m giving you this conversation... Consider it payment."
Damian pushed himself to his feet, his body still trembling slightly from the lingering pressure.
The question had been sitting in his mind for a long time now, months of observations and patterns that didn’t quite make sense.
"Why?"
The Patriarch turned, orange eyebrows raised slightly.
"Why what?"
"The way Nobles treat commoners."
Damian’s voice came out quieter than he’d intended.
"I’ve been watching it for months now. The systematic suppression, the barriers, the way they keep people down... It feels too extreme."
He looked at the Patriarch directly.
"You’re the same species, the same humanity you claim to protect, so why go that far? Why not just... maintain hierarchy without crushing them completely?"
His hands stayed at his sides.
"What’s the point of it all?"
The Patriarch looked at him for a long moment.
His expression shifted, something flickering across his face that might have been surprise at the question’s framing.
Then something else settled into his features.
Everything changed.
The warmth vanished from the air. The friendly demeanor evaporated like morning mist.
The Patriarch’s orange eyes began to glow, actual flames kindling in their depths, and the presence he’d been suppressing crashed down on Damian like a collapsing mountain.
Thump...thump
Damian’s knees buckled immediately.
He hit the ground hard, his hands barely catching himself, his heart hammering against his ribs with such force that each beat hurt.
’Can’t breathe–’
The weight pressing down on him wasn’t just Aura or power. It was something deeper, something that reached into his chest and squeezed around his heart with fingers made of absolute authority.
The Patriarch looked down at him.
And for the first time, Damian saw what lay beneath the mask.
Something old.
Something that had watched civilizations rise and fall.
Something that had stopped believing in humanity a long time ago.
"Humans are very ungrateful by nature."
The Patriarch’s voice came from directly above him now, each word carrying weight that made Damian’s bones ache.
He looked up at the sky, his gaze distant.
"When the portals first opened and the world was ending... We were called heroes."
His voice grew quieter but somehow more intense.
"We threw ourselves at every breach, every disaster. Gave everything to keep civilization from collapsing."
A pause, weighted with something that might have been pain or rage.
"Friends lost their families protecting cities full of people who never knew their names."
Orange flames flickered around his form.
"We gave everything."
He looked back down at Damian.
"And do you know what happened after? After we stabilized the portals and built the barriers?"
His expression went cold.
"They forgot... Stopped seeing our sacrifice as heroic... Started seeing it as an obligation... As something we owed them."
The flames grew brighter.
"Expected us to risk everything whenever danger appeared, called us selfish when we tried to rest, called us tyrants when we made rules about who got saved first."
The Patriarch’s voice carried centuries of resentment.
"So we stopped trying to save people who didn’t want to be saved."
His smile returned, carved into his face like something sharp.
"We built a world where strength matters... Where power is earned, not given."
The pressure on Damian eased slightly.
"You ask why we suppress commoners? We just don’t elevate them beyond what they earn... That’s all."
He turned away, looking at the burning beast.
"Your reforms want to give everyone equal opportunity..."
His voice dropped.
"But equality breeds complacency, complacency breeds weakness and weakness gets people killed."
"..."
Silence fell between them.
The Patriarch took a step forward.
Suddenly the weight vanished completely.
Damian could breathe again, his lungs pulling in air that felt too thin after being crushed.
The Patriarch looked at him, his orange eyes tracking across Damian’s face with an intensity that felt invasive.
Then his gaze stopped as it fixed on Damian’s hair.
"Your hair."
The Patriarch’s voice changed, losing some of that friendly casualness, becoming something quieter and harder to read.
