What Do You See?

I took a deep breath, trying to think quickly, searching for a way to be honest without crumbling under his presence. I knew I had to stand firm, but I also knew that whatever I said would carry weight. With visible effort, I spoke:

"Well… when I look at you, I see the patriarch of the family."

My voice was steadier than I expected, but there was still a hint of doubt, as if I was trying to convince myself of the words I'd just uttered. And in that moment, the silence grew heavier, as though the patriarch was carefully measuring my response. Luminus, standing by my side, remained resolutely silent, though his curious gaze stayed fixed on me.

The patriarch raised an eyebrow. "What you see is the patriarch?" he repeated, as if testing the boundaries of my thoughts.

"Yes," I replied, forcing a confidence I didn't fully feel.

He tilted his head slightly, and his golden eyes—deep and piercing like molten metal—locked onto mine with even more intensity. That gaze made my breath hitch for a moment.

"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice deeper now, almost a restrained growl, like a predator stalking its prey. "Do you not see a beast? A man cloaked in an animalistic aura, poised to hunt you down?"

He leaned back into the leather armchair with the same calm as someone sharpening a blade. Yet his words weighed down the air inside the carriage, so dense I could almost feel it pressing against my ears.

The aura around him seemed to pulse, as though something inside him was waiting to break free. I swallowed hard. It was the first time I'd so clearly understood what he was capable of.

'He's completely dissected me', I thought, gripping my knees tightly to steady myself. I couldn't show weakness—not here, not now.

Luminus, upon hearing the patriarch's words, raised an eyebrow—an almost imperceptible movement, but one that didn't escape my notice.

I kept my gaze fixed on him, my body still tense but no longer wavering. I knew that everything that came next hinged on my response.

"It doesn't matter whether you're a Beast, a Dragon, or a Demon," I said, my voice more resolute now, trying to channel Alexander's strength into my words. "What I see is my father—the patriarch of the Dracknum Family."

As the words left my mouth, I felt a weight lift off my chest, like I'd finally shed an invisible burden.

I paused briefly, but before he could respond, I added, "Not to mention, my father would never hunt me down, right?" This time, my voice was softer, yet it carried a distinct note of conviction.

The patriarch remained silent for a moment. His expression stayed unreadable, but then he let out a low, deep chuckle—a sound that seemed equal parts amused and satisfied with my response.

His smile widened, as if he had been testing something within me and was pleased with the result. His presence, already commanding, seemed to expand and fill the entire carriage, an authority so palpable it was almost suffocating. Yet, paradoxically, it didn't feel threatening. Instead, there was an air of amusement about him that somehow made the tension even more pronounced.

"You're far more interesting than the others," he remarked in a low, almost conspiratorial tone. His gaze stayed locked on me—not hostile, but deeply scrutinizing, as if he could read every breath, every flicker of movement. It was as if he could see straight through me.

The weight of his attention made me feel as though I was being observed from every angle. And yet, amidst all of this, there was something curious in his eyes, something that hinted at intrigue rather than judgment.

"No matter if I'm a Dragon or a Demon," he continued with an imperturbable calm, "you claim to see the patriarch. So, it doesn't matter what I am—I'm still your father…"

"And because I'm your father, I wouldn't hunt you down?" His voice softened, still carrying that unrelenting aura that made it hard to breathe. He seemed to be mulling over my words, almost as though they had stirred something within him.

After a few seconds, he turned his gaze to Luminus.

"Luminus, I must admit, we've finally found someone who's outdone your answer." The patriarch chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the moment. Luminus didn't respond immediately, but I noticed him avert his eyes, his shoulders tensing slightly. He didn't seem offended by the patriarch's teasing; instead, there was an unmistakable hint of embarrassment.

I remained silent, watching the exchange between them. Despite the weight of the tension surrounding me, the situation felt… lighter somehow.

"P…" Luminus began, as though trying to interject, but he didn't manage to stop the inevitable.

"A tooth fairy who gives treasure chests instead of coins," the patriarch continued, turning back to me with a mischievous grin. "That was the response your eldest brother gave when he was your age."

He spoke so casually, yet with a tone of pride, as if he were sharing a cherished secret. The comparison to the tooth fairy made me smile briefly, unable to suppress the momentary amusement.

Luminus, still visibly flustered by the patriarch's remark, glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. It was subtle, but I noticed it. He quickly regained his composure, though, his posture stiffening as if retreating into his usual seriousness. It was as if he were trying to hide the truth—that this kind of teasing from the patriarch was something he had experienced before. Even so, it was clear he had never fully grown accustomed to it.

I, on the other hand, felt a touch more at ease—though I remained cautious. The patriarch's words weren't just playful jabs; they were calculated, a kind of test. I was starting to understand that he was probing me, gauging how far I'd go to hold onto my sense of self, my pride, and my identity. He wasn't looking for a son who would bow easily or respond dishonestly.

The carriage rocked gently as it continued down the road. The steady rhythm of the horses' hooves echoed faintly, a constant melody in the background. Reclining in his seat, the patriarch radiated the air of someone fully in control, effortlessly commanding the room without trying. After a moment of silence, he finally broke it.

"So, Alexander," he began, his voice softer now but still carrying that undeniable weight of authority.

He crossed his legs, one arm resting on the back of his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on me. "If I'm not mistaken, it's been two months since your tenth birthday."

I gave a small nod, unsure of where he was leading but careful to maintain my composure.

"I haven't yet given you a gift. What would you like?"

For a moment, I didn't respond. His gaze was so penetrating, it felt as though he was sifting through the deepest corners of my thoughts. My heart raced as I considered his question.

Countless possibilities ran through my mind—things that might be useful, things I could need. But none of them felt quite right. My gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, and landed on it: the long-handled axe.

It hung on a decorative mount just beneath the window. The polished blade reflected the dim light filtering through the curtains, its sheen mesmerizing. Its silver handle, tipped with dark black accents, gleamed faintly, and intricate blue runes shimmered along its length, glowing faintly as if alive. It was a weapon that radiated power, commanding respect at a glance.

But that wasn't why I was so drawn to it. There was something else, something strange and intangible. It was as if it were calling to me, pulling me in, my thoughts becoming consumed by its presence.

Then, as if in a trance, I spoke, my voice unwavering, almost resolute.

"I want that axe."