Chapter 150: The Past She Buried

Andras finished circulating his mana and opened his eyes.

The residual strain from the dungeon had faded. Sovereign Predator Physique had already closed the last of the minor damage. His mana pathways felt stable again. By every practical measure, he should have been able to sleep.

He could not.

The image of the Voidrend Behemoth refused to leave him. The way it had moved despite its size. The way Void Resonance had turned the entire chamber against them. The way Evelyne and Selene had adapted, coordinated, and finally crushed an S-Class monster while he stood at the edge of the battlefield and watched.

He had tested Eclipse Edge. He had confirmed its performance. That part satisfied him.

What remained was the distance.

The gap between what he could currently do and what those two women had done without hesitation.

Andras rose from the bed, dressed in simple dark clothes, and left his chambers.

The corridors of Darkmoor Estate were quiet. Mana lamps burned at low intensity, casting long, soft shadows across the polished stone. He walked without particular destination at first, letting his thoughts continue turning, until his steps carried him toward the private garden reserved for the ducal family.

The night air was cool. Pale moonflowers released their faint fragrance. Bioluminescent plants glowed in soft silver and blue along the pathways. At the center, the marble fountain continued its silent flow under the open sky. The quiet here was different from the silence of his room. It felt older, less confined.

Evelyne was already there.

She sat on the low stone bench near the fountain, still wearing the same robe she had worn in the study earlier. Her hair was loosely tied, a few strands falling free against her neck. She did not look surprised when she noticed him approaching.

Andras stopped a few steps away.

"Mother."

Evelyne turned her head. The soft light from the glowing plants caught the edge of her face, outlining the calm, composed features that had become so familiar to him over the years.

"Andras. Why haven’t you slept?"

"I couldn’t," he answered honestly. "I kept thinking about the battle between you, General Selene, and the S-Class monster."

Evelyne studied him for a moment. The concern that had been present earlier in the study flickered again, quieter this time but still noticeable.

"Don’t think too much about it," she said. Her voice was steady, yet carried a clear note of reassurance. "Are you thinking about it because you couldn’t participate in that fight, and because you saw the difference in strength?"

Andras did not deny it.

Evelyne’s expression softened. She reached out briefly, brushing a loose strand of white hair away from his forehead in a rare, almost unconscious gesture.

"Don’t dwell on it. I know you’ll surpass me one day, my dear son."

Andras met her eyes.

"I know."

The words were simple, spoken without arrogance or false humility. He accepted both the current gap and the future possibility with the same calm certainty he applied to everything else.

Evelyne’s hand lowered. A faint, almost tired smile touched her lips before she looked back toward the fountain.

"Why are you still awake?" Andras asked after a short silence.

Evelyne was quiet for several seconds. When she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its earlier softness.

"I couldn’t sleep either. Thoughts of the past have been surfacing since you mentioned Calista."

Andras studied her profile, then walked over and sat beside her on the bench. The stone was cool through his clothes. Neither of them spoke immediately. The only sounds were the faint movement of water in the fountain and the occasional soft shift of leaves overhead. The scent of moonflowers drifted between them, light and clean.

After a while, Andras broke the silence.

"Since you mentioned the past... can you tell me how you became a student of Headmistress Calista?"

Evelyne glanced at him. Her expression remained composed, but something more measured settled behind her eyes.

"Calista had only recently become Headmistress when I entered Ambrose Academy," she said. "She was already in that position by the time I arrived."

Andras nodded once. "So she was already Headmistress while you were a student."

"Yes."

Evelyne’s gaze returned to the water.

"I attracted attention wherever I went. An S-Rank talent draws attention whether you want it or not. I was practicing alone one evening when she approached me. She said our talents were of the same type, and asked if I wanted guidance on how to develop mine properly."

She paused, as if weighing how much more to say.

"I said yes. She taught me for a short period after that. Nothing public. Only the two of us knew. That is why I was surprised when you mentioned her. I never told you because there was never any reason to. It was a brief arrangement, and it remained private."

Andras listened without interrupting. The explanation matched what little he already knew and left the deeper layers of her past still untouched. He filed the information away carefully.

He then shifted the conversation slightly.

"General Selene also spoke about your time at the academy," he said. "She mentioned that the two of you became close friends fairly quickly. She also said something else."

Evelyne’s eyes moved back to him, mildly curious.

"She said that after one of your spars, she cried when she lost to you. And that even now, she still looks embarrassed whenever the memory comes up."

For the first time that night, a genuine, quiet laugh left Evelyne.

It was soft, but clear in the still garden.

"She still remembers that?" Evelyne shook her head lightly, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Selene has always been like that. She could face down almost anyone without flinching, yet she still gets embarrassed about crying in front of me after a loss. I told her years ago to forget it. Apparently she never did."

The amusement faded slowly from her expression, replaced once more by something more distant and reflective.

Andras watched her for a moment longer. The brief laugh had softened the lines of her face, making her look slightly younger under the blue-silver light of the garden. Then he continued in the same even tone.

"She also told me that during your time at the academy, you once said you wished you had been born a commoner."

Evelyne’s fingers stilled against the edge of the bench.

The night air seemed to grow quieter.

Andras’s voice remained calm, almost clinical in its curiosity.

"Why?"