It was oddly quiet in the Lancaster Estate.

    The ever-present hum of noble life—the bustle of servants, the murmurs of scholars, the occasional laughter of family—was absent. In its place was a solemn silence.

    Only the soft shuffle of guards'' boots echoed along the estate''s perimeter, keeping watch with disciplined eyes. Workers continued their duties—trimming the hedges, sweeping the pristine roads, polishing the estate''s grand architecture—but even they moved with reverent stillness, their voices hushed as if the entire estate was holding its breath.

    In one of the many rooms of the manor, deep within the heart of the estate, was a private medical ward. It was dimly lit, with only the steady beeping of life-support machines to break the stillness. Lying on the bed, pale and frail, was Richard Lancaster, the patriarch of the Lancaster family.

    His once-powerful frame was withered. His skin looked dry, his veins unnaturally dark from the spread of Meta-Essence Carcinoma, a rare affliction that attacked the very life force of gifted individuals. His eyes had remained closed for days now, and the prognosis had been grim—if untreated, he would never open them again.

    By his side sat Amelia Lancaster, his wife, her elegant figure bent slightly as she gently rubbed his right hand—the one connected to nutrient and essence-enriching IVs keeping him barely alive.

    Her voice was soft, filled with quiet strength as she whispered:

    "Darling… our daughter is fighting right now to save you. So please… don''t give up. Keep fighting too. Don''t let her efforts be in vain."

    She hadn''t watched the Crownspire Ascension.

    Not because she wasn''t curious or fearful.

    But because this—watching over Richard—was more important.

    Then suddenly, the room was filled with light.

    A radiant glow burst into existence, shining like a small sun within the quiet ward. Amelia''s instincts sharpened—she stood up in alarm, rushing toward the wall to hit the emergency button that would summon every Lancaster guard to the scene.

    But just as her fingers hovered over the button—

    "Mom! It''s us!"

    The voice was unmistakable. Familiar.

    Amelia froze, her hand still in the air, and turned around swiftly.

    There, standing at the center of the light, was Sophia Lancaster, her daughter, glowing with the faint residual aura of teleportation.

    "Sophia…?" Amelia whispered, breath catching in her throat.

    Sophia smiled softly, her voice gentle.

    "Yes, Mom. I''m back."

    "And Saint Theresa agreed heal Dad."

    Amelia''s lips parted, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her gaze shifted—

    And there, standing beside Sophia, was Saint Theresa herself, radiating quiet divinity.

    Emotion overwhelmed Amelia. Her knees trembled as tears welled in her eyes, and in the next moment, she bowed deeply.

    "Thank you… thank you for helping our family, Saint Theresa."

    But the Saint only gave a small smile, her tone light and slightly amused.

    "It''s no problem. Since my future disciple asked me to help you… I decided I would."

    Amelia blinked in confusion, lifting her head.

    "Future… disciple?"

    She glanced at Ethan, who stood beside Sophia, already looking away in embarrassment. ''Why did she say that? he thought bitterly. I haven''t even agreed yet.''

    Saint Theresa chuckled softly at Ethan''s reaction before turning serious once again.

    "I''ll need privacy. The amount of energy required for this healing can harm Those who are not attuned to Divine essence and the fluctuations may be… violent."

    Ethan nodded.

    "Understood."

    With that, Amelia, Sophia, and Ethan stepped quietly out of the ward, leaving Saint Theresa alone with Richard Lancaster.

    Behind the closed doors, the light pulsed once again—this time, with the soft crackle of divine essence awakening.

    And for the first time in days, hope bloomed within the Lancaster estate.

    ****

    As they waited outside the ward, the tension in the air was thick. The sunlight filtered through the trees of the Lancaster estate, but it did little to warm the cold worry that clung to their hearts.

    Sophia, wanting to fill the silence, began to recount everything that had happened during the Crownspire Ascension—from the fierce trials to the sudden and brutal attack, from Ethan''s constant support to the miraculous intervention of Saint Theresa.

    As she spoke, Amelia''s expression grew increasingly pale. Her eyes widened with every revelation—the Crownspire was attacked, the tournament thrown into chaos, and most terrifying of all, her daughter had nearly lost her life in the madness.

    When Sophia finished, Amelia was frozen. And then she whispered, her voice quivering:

    "I''ve… I''ve been a bad mother."

    Sophia immediately stepped forward, her tone urgent.

    "No, Mom. You had to take care of Dad. There was no way you could have known the Crownspire would be attacked."

    Amelia didn''t respond at first. Her lips parted as if to speak, but only silence came out. After a moment, she said quietly: sea??h thё ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You''re… you''re right."

    Sophia could see the pain in her mother''s eyes—the guilt, the helplessness—and she didn''t want her to linger in it.

    She smiled softly, nudging Amelia gently with her words.

    "And, Mum… you don''t have to feel bad that you weren''t there. After all—Ethan was with me the entire time. I couldn''t have made it home safely without him."

    Amelia turned to look at Ethan, who stood a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets. He looked back at them and gave a small, confident smile.

    "Sophia''s right," Ethan said, his tone calm and resolute.

    "As long as I''m there, nothing bad will happen to her."

    Amelia''s gaze lingered on him for a moment—long enough to see the steel in his eyes, the quiet strength in his stance. Then, at last, she smiled.

    "Sophia really has good eyes," she said softly.

    Sophia blushed, quickly looking away.

    "Mom…"

    Ethan chuckled at her reaction, a rare moment of warmth breaking through the heavy air.

    Just then, the door to the ward creaked open.

    All three turned instantly. Saint Theresa stepped out, her divine aura dimmed, her expression far from the serene confidence she usually carried. Instead, there was something else in her eyes—guilt.

    A terrible feeling settled in Amelia''s chest. Sophia tensed. Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the Saint closely.

    Theresa''s voice was soft, but it carried a weight that made their stomachs drop.

    "I tried my best, but…"

    She paused.

    Amelia''s heart skipped a beat.

    "But what?" she demanded, stepping forward despite herself, completely ignoring the fact that she was speaking so sharply to a Saint.

    Theresa took in a breath, her expression conflicted.

    "I think… it''s better if you see it yourselves."

    She stepped aside and motioned toward the now-silent ward.

    The three of them exchanged a glance—and then quickly moved toward the door.