Chapter 76: Miraclad Family
The plane hummed steadily through the clouds, a private vessel arranged by the Miraclad family to ensure their "guests" arrived without incident.
Two days of travel had passed since takeoff, long enough for the initial tension to settle into a quiet vigilance.
Kayla sat beside Amon, her hand occasionally brushing his, while little Ciara dozed peacefully in a cushioned seat across from them, guarded closely by Mira, who kept a watchful eye on the child.
Amon stared out the window, his enhanced senses picking up every shift in the aircraft’s altitude and the subtle conversations of the crew.
His God-rank Soul Sense swept outward effortlessly, mapping the terrain far below even through the clouds.
He said little, content to let Kayla handle the surface-level pleasantries with the attendants. Inside, his mind remained sharp.
This trip was not merely a family reunion. It was reconnaissance and potentially an execution.
As the plane began its gradual descent, the clouds parted like curtains on a stage. Amon’s eyes narrowed at the sight unfolding beneath them.
There it was: the ancestral estate of the Miraclad family.
A sprawling complex of ancient stone towers fused seamlessly with modern glass spires, perched atop a secluded mountain plateau that overlooked misty valleys.
The main hall rose like a fortress-palace, its walls etched with glowing runes that pulsed with latent power, faint even from this distance.
Familiarity stirred in Amon’s chest, not from fondness, but from buried memories of cold corridors and indifferent eyes.
The place hadn’t changed much. It still reeked of old power and hidden ambition.
The plane lowered smoothly, engines whining as the landing gear touched down on a private airstrip nestled within the estate grounds.
Attendants in crisp uniforms waited at the foot of the stairs, their expressions polished and professional.
"Welcome back to the Miraclad domain," one of them intoned with a shallow bow. "The banquet has already commenced in honor of the family head’s centennial, but you are precisely on time. This way, please."
Amon helped Kayla with Ciara, exchanging a brief, reassuring glance with her.
Mira trailed close behind, her small frame radiating quiet protectiveness.
They were ushered along a wide, lantern-lit path lined with blooming night flowers and crystalline fountains that shimmered under artificial moonlight.
The air carried the scent of expensive incense and roasted delicacies.
As they approached the grand hall, the sounds of celebration grew louder: laughter, string instruments, and the clink of crystal glasses.
The doors swung open to reveal a scene of breathtaking luxury.
Massive chandeliers crafted from enchanted ice and gold hung from vaulted ceilings, casting a warm, ethereal glow over long tables laden with delicacies from every corner of the world: platters of spirit beast meat, glowing fruits that restored vitality, and wines aged for decades in mana-rich cellars.
Hunters in tailored suits and elegant gowns mingled, their auras ranging from A-rank to SSS-rank, each one exuding the confidence of those born into power.
Subtle magical arrays kept the atmosphere comfortable and the conversations private.
Amon’s upgraded Danger Sense hummed faintly, mapping every hidden glance and whispered word. These people were predators in fine clothing.
A distinguished attendant in a deep crimson robe stepped forward to greet them near the entrance.
"Lord Amon Moonstone and Lady Kayla. The family is pleased you could join us for this auspicious occasion."
His smile was warm, practiced, and utterly hollow.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable. The talent assessment for the young miss will occur shortly after the main toast."
Kayla returned the smile with her usual grace, nodding politely as she adjusted Ciara in her arms.
"Thank you. We appreciate the invitation."
Amon remained silent, his expression neutral. Beneath the surface, his Soul Sense pierced through the attendant’s facade.
There was no genuine welcome here, only calculation and faint disdain.
To them, Amon was still the failed, unawakened outcast dragging a mortal wife and a potentially useful child into their pristine world.
The warmth was a mask. No one truly cared if they lived or died. What mattered was whether the girl’s bloodline proved valuable.
He placed a protective hand on Kayla’s lower back as they stepped fully into the hall, his presence like a shadow among the lights.
...
Amon’s hand stayed firm on Kayla’s lower back as they moved deeper into the opulent hall.
The chatter around them dipped for a brief moment as curious eyes turned their way, then resumed with forced normalcy.
Whispers slithered through the crowd like invisible snakes.
"Is that the failure?"
"Who would have thought that after all these years he’d return to the Miraclad family despite being a waste?"
"And the child... Is that his daughter?"
"Will she awaken a useful ability? Or similarly become a failure like her father?"
Amon heard every word that was said. His God-rank Soul Sense picked apart the emotions behind them: amusement, contempt, and a cold hunger directed at little Ciara.
His expression remained calm, but the upgraded Danger Sense painted faint red threads around several high-ranking hunters nearby.
None posed an immediate threat, yet the underlying malice was unmistakable.
Kayla, ever perceptive, leaned slightly into his touch.
"Stay close," she murmured under her breath, her professional smile never faltering.
Mira walked half a step behind them, her innocent appearance hiding the quiet readiness Amon had come to recognize.
Little Ciara, awake now and held securely in Kayla’s arms, looked around with wide, curious eyes, completely unaware of the vultures circling.
’So Dad really came to the banquet...’
Ciara could faintly guess what was happening, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether her father planned to wipe out everyone present.
She could sense the storm brewing beneath her father’s exterior, and her heart began thumping loudly in fear and perhaps a little excitement.
Suddenly, an older attendant guided them toward a central table reserved for "honored guests."
The table was closer to the family’s high dais than Amon expected, strategically placed so everyone could watch them.
Platters of spirit-infused delicacies were already arranged, their aromas rich enough to tempt even the most disciplined hunter.
Before they could sit, a familiar voice cut through the ambient noise.
"Brother! You actually came."
Marcus approached with a broad, insincere smile, dressed in a tailored black suit embroidered with faint silver runes.
His B-rank aura pulsed noticeably, meant to impress.
Behind him trailed two other siblings Amon vaguely remembered, Liora and Darius, both radiating stronger presences than Marcus.
Marcus’s gaze flicked to Kayla and lingered a second too long on Ciara before returning to Amon.
"The family head will be pleased. He’s about to begin his address soon."
Amon met his brother’s eyes without blinking. The memory of Marcus’s hand on his shoulder still lingered like a stain.
"We’re here for the banquet," he replied evenly. "Nothing more."
Marcus chuckled, though the sound lacked real warmth.
"Of course. But the talent test is the highlight tonight. Many are eager to see what the youngest branch has produced."
His tone carried the same subtle threat from before.
Kayla’s grip on Ciara tightened almost imperceptibly.
"We look forward to it," she said smoothly, her voice carrying just enough warmth to appear cooperative.
The siblings exchanged glances.
Liora, a sharp-featured woman with an A-rank aura, offered a thin smile.
"The child is quite... delicate looking. Let us hope she takes after the Miraclad side."
Amon’s Mystical Divine Physique thrummed beneath his skin.
With a single thought, he could end every person in this hall.
But patience was key.
He needed answers about the ancient secrets and the coming destruction first.
Slaughter could come later.
A deep bell tolled through the hall, silencing the crowd.
All eyes turned toward the raised dais, where an elderly man with silver hair and an overwhelming SSS-rank presence stood.
The family head, Elias Miraclad.
Even from this distance, Amon could sense the man’s power: dense, ancient, and laced with something sharper than ordinary mana.
Elias raised a crystal goblet, his voice resonating with practiced authority.
"One hundred years. A century of guiding our family through the descent of dungeons and the rise of hunters. Tonight, we celebrate not just survival, but dominance."
Polite applause rippled through the hall.
Amon’s gaze locked on the old man, and his Soul Sense pierced forward, probing gently.
Elias was strong. Far stronger than any other human he had encountered before.
But he was still within the realm of mortals.
He wasn’t at the level of a god yet.
As the speech continued, praising the family’s contributions and hinting at greater ambitions, Amon felt a subtle probe brush against his own senses.
Someone was testing him.
His Danger Sense flared softly in warning.
He traced the source to a hooded figure standing near the dais, likely one of the family’s hidden elders.
A faint smile touched Amon’s lips, but he didn’t seem bothered.
No one could sense his true strength if he chose to keep it hidden, not even the family head, who was an SSS-rank monster.
The speech concluded with Elias announcing:
"And now, to honor tradition, we will assess the newest potential of our bloodline. Bring forth the child of Amon Moonstone."
Attendants moved toward their table.
Kayla stiffened, but Amon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"Trust me," he whispered, his voice calm yet carrying absolute certainty. "Nothing will happen to her."
As the family’s appraisers prepared a glowing crystal orb on the dais, an artifact designed to measure talent and bloodline purity, Amon’s eyes gleamed with cold resolve.
The real reason he had come was finally unfolding.
Whatever the result showed, the Miraclad family would learn tonight that some distances could never be bridged again.
