Chapter 25: Last Dinner With Father

As Ethan sat at the dining table with his father, the atmosphere was thick with the ordinary pretense of family life.

Suddenly, his father put down his utensils and looked across at him with a serious expression.

"Ethan," his father said, "I’ve been thinking about sending you and Arthur to a magic school."

Ethan heard this without showing a trace of surprise. In his past life, his father had also sent him to a magic school where he had merely picked up a few low-level spells. Keeping his expression flat, he asked, "Which school, Dad?"

His father cleared his throat. "That most famous one in the city—Aurelia Royal Magic Academy."

Hearing this, Ethan felt a brief jolt of shock.

Despite their comfortable household standing, his father had never bothered sending him to any reputable magic academy in his previous life.

Had awakening a high-grade flame element genuinely changed his father’s perspective? Was he actually starting to care about their futures?

For a fraction of a second, a flicker of genuine emotion stirred in Ethan’s eyes—a long-buried longing for paternal approval, desperate to break free.

But then, his father continued, ruining the moment entirely. "you know how exorbitant the tuition fees are at a premier academy like that. With our finances, I’m afraid I can only afford to enroll one of you."

The emotions in Ethan’s eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling void.

Even though he was eating something tasty after so many years, he had stopped being able to taste the food.

Leaning forward, his father justified his choice with a tone of patronizing rationalization.

"I’m thinking of sending Arthur to that academy. You know how exceptionally bright your brother has been since he was little."

"You’ve always been smart too, Ethan, but think about it—ever since his mother passed away, Arthur hasn’t had many breaks in life. Now that he has finally awakened a high-grade element, I want to give him the happiness he truly deserves."

" I want to send him somewhere he can mingle with powerful people, build elite connections, and forge a brilliant future. The schools here in the town just aren’t good enough for his potential. Ethan, you’ve always been the more mature and sensible one. You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you? As the older brother, you should want what’s best for him and be willing to sacrifice a little so he can shine."

Ethan listened to every single word. As his father droned on with his blatant favoritism, every remaining shred of human warmth evaporated from Ethan’s eyes.

What remained was a pure, abysmal hatred—the suffocating anger he had harbored and choked down for a hundred years in the abyss of a desolate prison.

An agonizing realization gripped him: even after being reborn, his hands were tied.

He couldn’t kill Arthur right now because he needed to trail him for his upcoming opportunities; he couldn’t crush Keal yet for the same reason.

And now, his pathetic excuse of a father was actively planning to hand Arthur a golden ticket, potentially shipping him off to acquire windfalls and supreme opportunities that could permanently alter the timeline and ruin Ethan’s grand scheme of revenge.

What is the point of having a father like this?

Ethan thought, a dark, venomous amusement bubbling up inside him. He is nothing more than a hindrance—a useless piece of trash paving the way for my destruction.

He slowly raised his head and flashed a bright, wide smile.

The moment his father caught sight of that smile, his heart skipped a heavy, terrifying beat.

A sudden, inexplicable spike of adrenaline surged through his chest, his pulse hammering wildly against his ribs as an instinctive wave of dread washed over him.

He opened his mouth, completely unable to comprehend why his own body was reacting with such sheer panic.

"Dad," Ethan whispered, his voice dangerously soft.

"Do you know? In my ideal vision, I wanted to give you a long, utterly lonely, and miserable life. A life entirely devoid of happiness or peace. For everything you’ve done, I thought that would be the simplest, most merciful punishment. I wanted you to sit in your empty house and rot in solitude."

As those words left Ethan’s lips, a dense, crimson aura began to bleed out from his skin, swirling violently around him.

Suddenly, Ethan’s father felt as though invisible, razor-sharp swords were tearing their way into his flesh. Countless barbs of condensed crimson energy burrowed ruthlessly through his pores, invading his bloodstream and locking down every muscle fiber.

Gasping in absolute terror, the father hurriedly chanted an incantation in the ancient language of magic: "By the flowing depths, weave the defense of the tides—Water Barrier!"

A shimmering blue aquatic shield instantly manifested around him, swirling with defensive fluid energy.

But it was entirely futile. Ethan’s invisible red energy sliced through the water barrier like a hot knife through butter, shattering it into mist before slamming back into the father’s body, pinning him rigidly to his chair as if he were impaled by a dozen spectral lances. He couldn’t move so much as a finger.

"W-Who are you?!" his father choked out, his eyes wide with horror as blood began to seep from his lips.

"You... you aren’t my son! My son is only five years old, he doesn’t know any magic!"

Ethan chuckled softly, stepping away from the table. "Dad, you truly have no idea how talented your son is, do you? And all this time, you wasted every ounce of your energy obsessing over Arthur in my past life, didn’t you? Even now, that’s all you care about. You wanted me to rot in mediocre town schools while he goes off to harvest knowledge and treasures I couldn’t even dream of back then. And when I begged you to send me to a city school in the past, you claimed we were too poor. But look at you now—suddenly, the money appears."

His father couldn’t comprehend a single word of what Ethan was rambling about; his mind was consumed by the suffocating agony crushing his chest.

"Every time I look at Arthur since morning, I feel an urge to tear him limb from limb," Ethan continued, his eyes glowing with a manic, bloodthirsty light.

"Then I thought of Keal and wanted to ruin his life too. But I pulled back because I couldn’t risk blowing my cover, altering the future, or letting my grand plan to slowly, deliciously torture the three of you go to waste."

"And right when I’m trying to keep everything under control, you sit here and tell me you’re going to pack up my golden-mine brother and send him away to steal every opportunity in sight?"

Ethan glanced upward toward the ceiling. Through his heightened senses, he could hear the faint, steady breathing of Arthur fast asleep upstairs, completely oblivious to the slaughter unfolding downstairs.

A cruel grin spread across Ethan’s face.

He raised his hand, channeling his condensed mana to weave a soundproof barrier around the dining area, sealing every decibel inside so that not a single whisper could travel up to Arthur’s room.

Then, he calmly stood up from his seat, walked slowly around the table, and placed a gentle hand upon his father’s trembling shoulder.

"Dad," Ethan whispered, leaning in close, "have you ever wondered what it feels like when it feels as though lava is flowing through your veins instead of blood.?"

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