7: Reflections of a Young Genius

The banquet continued, but the atmosphere had changed.

Nobles who had been chatting leisurely before were now exchanging glances, their hushed voices barely audible beneath the soft hum of music. A few dared to steal glances in his direction, their expressions mixed with curiosity, admiration, and—just faintly—wariness.

I didn't need to hear their words to understand what they were thinking.

"The heir of House Ravenshade is extraordinary."

"A child born with such overwhelming talent… truly befitting the Duke's son."

"His mana control is still unstable, but with proper training, he will become a force to be reckoned with."

It was an outcome I should have expected. In a world where power dictated status, talent was both a blessing and a curse. My so-called "awakening" had not only proven my potential but also marked me as someone to be watched.

— But this wasn't supposed to happen.

I was nothing but an insignificant noble child in the original novel. The protagonist had never given me a second thought, and the world had no reason to care about my existence. But now, that had changed.

The shattered array, the mana surge, the murmurs of genius—none of it should have been possible.

Was it the raven?

No, it didn't seem like it. The frozen raven had refined my mana core, but it had never claimed to enhance my talent. If anything, it had only stabilized my unstable foundation.

Then… was it the system?

I had no concrete proof, but that seemed to be the only answer. From the moment I was born, the system had acknowledged my potential in ways that defied the original story. My mana had always been overwhelming, my spirit energy far beyond the norm.

Had I always been this way? Or had the system merely revealed something that had been hidden?

A thought lingered at the back of my mind, dark and unsettling.

— What if the system was changing the story?

Not just me, but the entire flow of events?

If that were the case, then I could no longer trust my knowledge of the novel. What else had changed? What else would change?

I clenched my tiny fists.

I hated this feeling of uncertainty.

Just then, a warm hand rested on my head.

I looked up.

My mother, Seraphina, was gazing at me with a soft smile, her crimson eyes filled with warmth.

"You did well, my little star."

Beside her, my father chuckled, his arms crossed. "Of course he did. He's my son, after all."

His voice was filled with unmistakable pride, but there was no arrogance in his tone—only genuine fondness. Unlike the nobles whispering about me in the distance, my parents didn't see me as some rare genius or a political asset.

To them, I was just their son.

For a moment, the tension in my chest eased.

I wasn't alone in this world.

Even if everything around me changed, even if the story no longer followed its original course—this warmth was real.

And I would do everything in my power to protect it.