CHAPTER 176: FLICKER

"I’m not saying you can’t," Lucan said. "I’m saying don’t underestimate him. He keeps improving. You saw him up close, he is not someone to be taken lightly."

"Maybe," Nolan admitted, but his voice was steady. "Still, I won’t lose. I’ll win the tournament. The king won’t interfere and the so called hero won’t save anyone. I’ll beat the champion and I’ll do it decisively."

"Yeah, I’m counting on you for that," Lucan said, forcing a tight smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a moment, like he was trying to push down something ugly he didn’t want to show.

"Nolan?" he began slowly. "There’s something else. Cynthia — she’s my wife. Do you know what happened to our child?"

Nolan’s face went still. "I... I don’t know if the child is alive," he admitted. "When Luthar started talking about that ritual, Cynthia tried to stop him. We never found any trace afterwards. She insists she interfered, but after that the child vanished. We never saw it again."

Lucan’s jaw tightened. "Maybe he used the child," he said quietly. "Maybe... but Cynthia—she’s stronger than people give her credit for. She stepped in, tried to stop him. She’s the one who took care of us while we stayed here. She has no child now; her husband—my brother—took everything."

Nolan swallowed. "She’s brave," he said. "She begged me to put a stop to him. She told me to make sure you dealt with him in the tournament. She even said, if it came down to it, I should kill him."

Lucan shook his head. "She said that, but I don’t think she means it," he murmured. "She still loves him, despite everything. That’s why this hurts so much."

Nolan reached out and gripped Lucan’s shoulder. "We’ll find the truth," he promised. "And if he’s part of a cult, we’ll tear it down. Cynthia won’t have to carry that alone."

"Yes, I know about that," Lucan said, voice low. "I swear I know. I’ve told you I can’t beat him at my current strength. He’s the one person I wanted to take down myself. But you have to do it. This is important. He must be stopped. If you don’t face him in the tournament and someone else wins, the hero might be tricked into siding with him. If that happens and the wrong people end up on that court, nobody will be able to stop what he’s planning.

You have to do this."

"I will," Nolan replied without hesitation. "Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it."

Nolan stood, turned, and called, "Damien, let’s go."

Damien was staring at the trophy for a long beat before he glanced up and followed Nolan out of the office and through the Adventurer’s Gate.

"Master, where are we headed? And who’s that fellow, Luthar?" Damien asked once they were outside.

"Oh, so you were listening," Nolan said with a half smile. "I noticed. I can read you pretty well, studying people while pretending not to. It’s obvious."

"I don’t know who that is," Damian said, glancing sideways. "But if anything’s wrong, Master, you can tell me. I’ll end whoever it is."

"There’s no one," Nolan replied calmly. "And the only one I want to undo, I can handle myself. So don’t be reckless."

"Okay, Master. As you wish," Damian said, nodding quietly.

They continued walking toward the mansion, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the road. Just as they neared the corner, a man sprinted past them, dragging a woman’s bag. His face was hidden behind a scarf, and the woman shouted, "Help! My purse!"

"Should I chase him?" Damian asked, already preparing to move.

Nolan didn’t answer. He simply snapped his fingers.

In an instant, everything froze—the wind, the shouting, even the thief mid-step. Time itself stood still.

Nolan and Damian walked calmly toward the thief. Damian took the purse from his stiffened hands, dragged him back to the ground, and set him in front of the woman.

Then Nolan snapped his fingers again.

Time resumed.

The thief blinked in confusion, eyes darting around as he suddenly found himself lying on the ground. "What... what just happened?" he stammered, terrified.

The woman, too, looked around in disbelief, her eyes wide.

Nolan held out the purse with a faint smile. "Please, ma’am. Take it."

She hesitated, then slowly reached out, bowing slightly. "Thank you," she said softly, still trembling as she clutched her bag to her chest.

People on the street froze for a beat, then erupted in shocked murmurs. A second ago they’d seen the thief sprinting off; now he lay on the ground as if time itself had flipped him over. The woman stood there clutching her purse—someone had returned it, but no one could say who. The thief’s face was white with confusion; he scrambled to his feet and tried to bolt.

"Hey! Thief!" someone in the crowd shouted. Voices rose around him—angry, accusatory. "That’s him! He stole from a woman here before!" Others joined in, pointing and closing ranks. Within moments a handful of market-goers had grabbed the thief’s arms and hauled him back, cuffing him roughly and dragging him toward the nearest guard post.

The woman, still trembling, clutched her bag to her chest and watched as the crowd escorted the thief away. Nolan and Damian slipped quietly into the flow of people, unseen amid the commotion, while the market slowly returned to its usual noisy.

As the two of them continued walking, Damian glanced at his master. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

Nolan was silent for a moment before replying. "I’ve been meaning to ask you this, Damian... why are you kind?"

Damian blinked, confused. "What? What do you mean by that?"

Nolan turned his gaze forward. "You’re incredibly powerful, yet you treat mere humans with kindness. I’ve seen how you talk to Celia, Linda, and even Lyra. Lyra was never this gentle when she was a divine beast. But ever since she became your companion, she’s changed. She’s... softer."

Damian frowned slightly. "And that’s a bad thing?"