CHAPTER 376: THE OLD TIMES

Ivy led Sandoz gently by the hand as they walked down the gravel path toward the training ground, where a familiar figure stood waiting. The early morning mist still clung to the ground, curling around their ankles like a veil. The moment Sandoz laid eyes on Grandpa Jethru, he froze. Emotion surged through him, raw and sudden. His eyes reddened, his breath hitched—and then he ran.

"Grandpa!" he cried, voice breaking as he flung himself into Jethru’s open arms. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as if trying to make up for the years lost.

Jethru held him firmly, steady as a mountain. His broad hand came up to ruffle the boy’s hair with practiced affection.

"Sandoz," he said, voice low and warm. "You’ve grown taller."

From the edge of the training ground, Lara crossed her arms and called out, her voice casual but laced with meaning. "Grandpa, can he join your martial arts school?"

Jethru pulled back slightly to study the boy, his weathered eyes narrowing. He nodded, slowly but seriously. "Of course. He’s got a solid foundation already. With his swordsmanship experience, he’ll become a force worth reckoning with."

Later that morning, the breakfast table was bustling with life. The long wooden table creaked under the weight of platters—steamed buns, scrambled eggs, freshly baked bread, and jars of berry jam. Laughter and light bickering filled the room as the children passed bowls and tried to outdo one another with stories from training.

Even Samuel, usually reserved and grim-faced, wore a rare smile as he watched the children chatter and squabble.

"Grandpa," Lara said, between mouthfuls of egg and bread, "I think it would be better for Sandoz to stay here. It’ll help him stay focused on his training."

Jethru nodded, brushing crumbs from his beard. "Then make the arrangements, girl. He can stay in your room, or move into the dorms if that’s more convenient."

"Will do." Lara wiped her hands on a napkin. "And maybe one of these days, we can visit Galeya’s Throne. I’ll take Ivan and Ivy along."

Jethru shot her a sharp look from across the table, but Lara just rolled her eyes.

"You of all people should know how dangerous Mount Ourea is. You want to put the children at risk?"

"Grandpa, you really need to stop babying Ivy," she said, her tone somewhere between a sigh and a lecture. "You treat her like she’s made of glass. One day, that’s going to backfire." Lara sounded calm but her voice had a hint of being aggrieved. "Sandoz was even younger. Remember he was just five then."

Jethru leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He knew she was right, but the thought of Ivy with bruises or tears in her eyes always stopped him cold. He could be ruthless with Ivan—strict to the point of being feared. But with Ivy... he softened. How could he let her be hurt when everytime he looked at her, he would see Naomi.

"You’re so unfair, Master," Lara muttered, pushing her plate away. "You use me as a punching bag during training, but you won’t even lay a finger on her."

Before Jethru could muster a reply, a soft voice broke through the morning chatter.

"Sister," Ivy said, stepping into the room with purpose in her eyes, "I want to learn martial arts. I want to be like you."

The room fell silent.

Lara blinked, stunned by Ivy’s sudden conviction. Then a slow, proud smile spread across her face.

"Don’t worry, Ivy," she said. "I’ll teach you everything I know."

"I am her grandfather," Jethru said, his gravelly voice edged with a hint of wounded pride, "and I am your master. I should be the one to teach her."

His arms were crossed, the veins in his weathered hands prominent as he stood at the head of the table, framed by the morning light streaming through the windows. His stern gaze flicked toward Lara, but there was unmistakable softness in his eyes.

"But Grandpa," Ivy began, her lower lip quivering slightly as she took a step forward. "If I get hurt, you’ll stop the training. If I cry, you’ll just hold me and tell me it’s alright. How will I ever become strong like that?"

Her voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that stilled the room. She wasn’t throwing a tantrum—she was pleading. Reasoning. Pouting just enough to press her point without being disrespectful. A subtle crack in her voice hinted she might cry, though she was trying hard not to.

Her voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that stilled the room. She wasn’t throwing a tantrum—she was pleading. Reasoning. Pouting just enough to press her point without being disrespectful. A subtle crack in her voice hinted she might cry, though she was trying hard not to. Ivy pouted as if she was about to cry.

Jethru opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Samuel—quiet until now—set his teacup down with a soft clink and spoke in his usual calm but commanding tone.

"Alright, it will be your sister Lara who will train you. No more arguments." Samuel spoke with finality.

The decision cut through the tension like a blade. Jethru clenched his jaw, his brows drawing together in frustration. But he said nothing. He couldn’t go against Samuel—not as a student, not as a son.

A slow smile unfurled on Ivy’s face, radiant and triumphant. For a moment, it was as if the sun shone only for her. She glanced at Lara with wide, sparkling eyes, barely able to contain her excitement.

At long last, she would finally begin her martial arts journey—just like Ivan. Just like Sandoz, but above all, just like Lara.

"Do you know," Lara said, leaning back in her chair with a teasing smirk, "that the first time I met Sandoz, he was dressed as a girl?"

Sandoz, who had just taken a sip of water, nearly choked. His face turned an alarming shade of red as Lara’s words echoed around the table.

Laughter bubbled from Reya as she entered, carrying a tray of warm pastries and fruit desserts. The aroma of honey and cinnamon followed her. She did not come with Lara but went directly to the market to purchase ingredients for the pastries.

"Oh yes," she added with a gleeful grin, "he fooled me completely. I even offered to help him tie his hair back with a ribbon. If Lara hadn’t told me he was a boy, I would have never known."

Sandoz groaned and sank lower in his seat. "Sis Lara, Reya, can you please stop talking about that? That’s ancient history!"

The laughter rose again, good-natured and full of affection.

But just as the laughter reached its peak, a loud knock thundered at the main door—sharp, deliberate, and too forceful to be casual.