Far beyond the galaxy that housed Fossen Grand, on a planet wrapped in silver clouds and endless light, a door slid open with a soft hum.
A young woman stepped out.
She was elegant—her movements smooth, her posture flawless. Her long hair flowed behind her like silk, and her presence alone seemed to command the space around her. Even the air felt calmer in her wake.
Outside the training room, a butler stood waiting, perfectly still.
The moment he saw her, he bowed slightly.
"My lady," he said respectfully, "you've been inside for quite some time. Is everything alright?"
The woman stretched her arm lightly, as though loosening her muscles.
"I was training," she replied calmly. "Flower Blade still feels… incomplete."
The butler raised his head slightly. "Incomplete?"
She paused, then smiled faintly.
"…I met someone."
The butler blinked.
"Someone?"
"Yes," she continued, her tone thoughtful now. "Someone using Blizzard."
The butler's expression changed immediately.
"Blizzard?" he repeated. "That technique created by Master Drake? It's one of the most difficult predictive arts ever made. Even among elites, very few can use it properly."
She nodded.
"I know."
"Then… this person?" the butler asked carefully.
Her eyes sharpened slightly, recalling the fight.
"He's not just using it," she said. "He's adapting it."
There was a brief silence.
"I suppressed myself to his level," she continued, "yet he still kept up. And by the end… he nearly killed me."
The butler's eyes widened.
"That is… impossible."
"No," she said softly. "It's not."
She turned and began walking forward, her expression calm but her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
"He's not strong," she added. "Not yet. But his control, his growth… his mind…"
She stopped briefly.
"He has more potential with Blizzard than I do."
The butler did not speak.
For the first time in years—
He saw genuine interest in her eyes.
Then, as they continued walking, he spoke again.
"My lady, your father has arrived."
She paused.
"…My father?"
"Yes," the butler replied. "Master Drake is waiting for you."
Her expression shifted slightly—surprised, but composed.
"I see," she said. "Let's not keep him waiting."
And with that, she walked on.
---
Back on the distant planet where Scott had been training, the virtual arena dissolved completely.
Scott collapsed.
His body hit the ground hard inside the training room, his breathing ragged and uneven. Sweat soaked through his clothes, and his entire body trembled faintly.
"…Damn…"
His head throbbed violently.
It felt like his brain had been stretched beyond its limits, pushed to the edge of collapse.
Blizzard.
The technique had nearly broken him.
Scott clenched his teeth and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.
"If that wasn't virtual…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
He would have died.
Yet—
Despite everything—
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"…Worth it."
He could feel it.
His mind was sharper.
Faster.
Stronger.
His Astral Mind had evolved during the fight, and Blizzard had followed.
That battle had pushed him further than any training ever could.
Even though he lost—
He had gained far more.
Scott leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes briefly as he steadied his breathing.
After resting for a while, he got up and returned to training.
This time, he focused on Infiltration.
Compared to Blizzard, it was much simpler.
Direct.
Efficient.
And to Scott's surprise—
He learned it quickly.
Very quickly.
Within a short period of time, he was already able to apply it in basic movements. His control wasn't perfect yet, but the foundation was solid.
"…Not bad."
Satisfied, Scott decided it was time to leave.
---
A few hours later, he boarded a spaceship heading back to Fossen Grand.
The journey was smooth, the stars stretching endlessly beyond the window as the ship moved through hyperspace.
Scott sat quietly, lost in thought.
The fight.
Flower.
Blizzard.
Everything replayed in his mind.
Then—
His communicator rang.
Scott frowned slightly before accepting the call.
His mother appeared.
"Scott," she said, "where are you?"
"I'm on my way back," he replied.
"Good," she said. "I need you to pick up your sister."
Scott blinked.
"My sister?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "Don't argue. Just go."
The call ended.
Scott sighed.
"…Great."
---
Not long after arriving, Scott made his way to pick her up.
She was small.
Very small.
A little girl with bright eyes and an innocent face.
The moment she saw Scott, she ran toward him happily.
"Big brother!"
Scott caught her effortlessly.
"…You're heavy."
"I'm not!" she protested immediately.
Scott smirked slightly.
"…Alright, you're not."
On the way back, he stopped and bought her ice cream.
She smiled brightly, completely unaware of anything happening in the world.
Scott carried her the rest of the way home.
For a brief moment—
Things felt normal.
Peaceful.
---
But that didn't last.
---
When they arrived home, the atmosphere was wrong.
Voices echoed from inside.
Angry voices.
Scott's expression darkened slightly as he stepped in.
Several people were gathered in the room.
Relatives.
Family members.
People he barely respected.
"…What's going on?" Scott asked coldly.
They turned toward him.
One of them stepped forward.
"Perfect timing," the man said. "We were just discussing your father's company."
Scott's eyes narrowed.
"…What about it?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Since your father is gone, it's only natural that the company be managed by someone capable."
Scott didn't respond.
He already understood.
They wanted it.
All of it.
Another person spoke.
"You and your mother can't handle something of that scale. It's better if we take over."
Scott remained silent for a few seconds.
Then—
He laughed.
Not loudly.
But coldly.
"…So that's what this is."
He looked at each of them.
One by one.
"Alright," he said calmly. "I'll make this simple."
They frowned slightly.
Scott continued.
"I'll give each of you fifty million."
The room went silent.
"In exchange," he added, "you leave. You never interfere again."
Their expressions changed instantly.
Fifty million—
Each.
That was not a small amount.
They looked at each other.
Hesitating.
Calculating.
Then—
One of them nodded.
"…Fine."
Scott didn't argue.
He transferred the money immediately.
Within minutes—
They were gone.
Just like that.
Scott stood there silently.
His fists clenched slightly.
Not because of the money—
But because of what it represented.
"…Pathetic."
He turned and walked away.
In the end the company was given to them though, if Scott's mother kept it and another big faction wanted to take it, there would be nothing for them to do
---
Later that night—
Scott stood alone.
Looking up at the sky.
His expression was cold.
His eyes sharp.
"…This isn't enough."
Money.
Power.
Strength.
He needed more.
Much more.
Without another word—
He turned.
And left.
---
His destination—
The Celestial Realm
---