Sleep fled from me like a startled bird. I opened my eyes, surprised by how alert I felt despite everything my body had endured. Something was different.


    I closed my eyes and focused inward. There it was—a sensation unlike anything I''d experienced before.


    A shimmering golden light pulsed inside my mind. It moved with my thoughts, responding to my will like a living thing.


    I sat up straight, my heart racing. This wasn''t supposed to happen yet. Mental energy typically developed muchter in cultivation, after physical energy had been fully harnessed.


    "A blessing in disguise," I whispered.


    The torture I''d endured had pushed my body to its absolute limits. Instead of destroying me, it had somehow elerated my development. My mind was awakening ahead of schedule.


    I tested this new power, directing it through different parts of my mind. The control was rough, unpracticed, but the potential was enormous. With this, my capabilities would expand dramatically.


    A knock interrupted my exploration.


    "Mr. Knight? Are you ready to depart?" It was the nurse who had been caring for me.


    "Yes," I replied, bringing myself back to the present moment. "I''m ready."


    ---


    The Thornton family estate loomed ahead, its grand facade a stark reminder of wealth and power. Two days had passed since Conrad''s unexpected visit, and now I was fulfilling my promise to attend Tristan''s funeral.


    As my car pulled up to the entrance, servants rushed to open the door. Their eyes were downcast, their movements stiff with anxiety.


    Conrad Thornton waited at the top of the stairs, his face a mask of perfect control. Only the darkness around his eyes revealed his grief.


    "Mr. Knight," he said with a formal bow. "Thank you foring."


    I nodded. "I''m sorry for your loss."


    Inside, the mood was somber. Family members and business associates gathered in hushed groups, stealing nces at me as I passed. The news of my connection to the Ashworth family had clearly spread.


    The ceremony was brief but dignified. I stood at the back, watching Conrad maintain hisposure through sheer force of will.


    Afterward, Uncle Armando approached me. "Mr. Knight, if you have a moment, there are matters we wish to discuss."


    I followed him to Conrad''s study, where Conrad was already waiting,posed once more.


    "Thank you for attending," Conrad said. "It would have meant something to Tristan."


    I nodded, taking a seat across from him. "You mentioned business matters?"


    Conrad cleared his throat. "Yes. First, I must confirm that our medicine stores have been severely depleted."


    "By what?" I asked.


    "By whom," Conrad corrected. "The Veridia City Martial Guild has been demanding increased ''contributions'' from all major families. They''ve taken almost everything of value from our medicinal reserves."


    This was interesting information. "The Guild is stockpiling medicines?"


    Conrad nodded. "Rare herbs, finished elixirs, even basic remedies. No exnation given."


    Uncle Armando stepped forward, cing a thick folder on the desk between us.


    "This contains aplete inventory of the Thornton family assets," he exined. "Properties, businesses, investments across three provinces. All now at your disposal, as promised."


    I leafed through the pages, impressed despite myself. The Thornton family was even wealthier than I''d realized.


    "And what do you expect in return?" I asked, looking up at Conrad.


    A flicker of surprise crossed his face. "We''ve already stated our position. The Thornton family is at your service."


    "For what percentage?" I rified. "You''re businessmen. You don''t give away assets without expecting returns."


    Uncle Armando nced nervously at Conrad, who leaned forward.


    "We assumed you would take full control," Conrad said carefully. "Given the... circumstances of our previous interactions."


    I closed the folder. "I''ll take fifty percent of all profits. You''ll maintain day-to-day operations and keep the remaining fifty percent."


    Conrad''s eyes widened. "That''s... exceptionally generous."


    "It''s practical," I corrected. "I don''t have time to manage your business empire. But I do expectplete transparency and loyalty."


    "Of course," Conrad agreed quickly. "Absolutely."


    I stood up. "One more thing. There''s a man named Eamon Greene. He was imprisoned by the Veridia City Martial Guild on false charges. I want him released immediately."


    Conrad frowned. "The Guild doesn''t typically respond to—"


    "Use whatever connections you have," I cut him off. "Bribes, favors, threats—I don''t care. Get it done today."


    Conrad hesitated, then nodded. "I''ll make the arrangements personally."


    "Good." I turned to leave, then paused. "And Conrad?"


    He looked up.


    "I appreciate your cooperation. Don''t make me regret this arrangement."


    As I walked away, I felt a strange new power settling around me. Not just the golden light in my mind, but something more intangible—the weight of influence and authority.


    ---


    By evening, Conrad had delivered on his promise. Eamon Greene, along with three other prisoners who had been unjustly held, walked free from the Guild''s detention facility.


    I met Eamon at a small restaurant near the edge of town. He looked thinner than I remembered, his eyes haunted, but his spirit remained unbroken.


    "Mr. Knight," he said, sping my hand with surprising strength. "I didn''t expect to see daylight again."


    "The Guild had no right to hold you," I replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Are you hungry?"


    Eamon nodded eagerly. "Starving. Prison food isn''t exactly gourmet."


    We ordered, and as the food arrived, Eamon filled me in on his ordeal. The Guild had questioned him repeatedly about his connections to me, about what he knew of my abilities.


    "They were particrly interested in your healing techniques," he said between bites. "Kept asking if I''d seen you use any special medicines."


    I filed this information away. The Guild''s interest in medicine aligned with what Conrad had told me about their stockpiling.


    "What will you do now?" I asked.


    Eamon''s expression sobered. "Find my sister first. She''s been staying with neighbors, but I need to get her."


    "Your sister?"


    "Erin," he exined. "She''s ten. Our parents diedst year, so it''s just us now."


    A responsibility I understood all too well. "Where is she?"


    "At Reese Primary School. sses end soon." He nced at his watch. "In fact, I should head there now."


    "I''lle with you," I offered, surprising myself. "I could use some fresh air."


    Eamon looked grateful. "I''d appreciate thepany. And I''m sure Erin would like to meet the man who saved her brother."


    ---


    Reese Primary School was a modest building with cheerful artwork decorating its walls. Children''sughter echoed from the yground as we approached the main entrance. <b ss="ref-076cbc">Publication courtesy of *.</b>


    "She should be out any minute," Eamon said, scanning the crowd of children beginning to emerge.


    His face lit up as he spotted a small figure with pigtails and a bright yellow backpack. "Erin!" he called.


    The girl looked up, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Brother!"


    She started running toward us, but her path was suddenly blocked by a harsh-looking woman gripping the arm of a boy about Erin''s age.


    "You!" the woman shouted, pointing at Erin. "Don''t you dare walk away from me!"


    Eamon tensed beside me. "What''s going on?"


    We moved closer, hearing the woman''s tirade.


    "—bruised my son''s arm! Look at this mark! You violent little monster!"


    Erin had shrunk back, her small face pale with fear. "I didn''t—"


    "Liar!" the woman spat. "My Jordan told me everything. You pushed him during recess!"


    Other parents were stopping to stare now. The boy, Jordan, stood smugly behind his mother, asionally touching his arm with exaggerated winces.


    "Erin would never hurt anyone," Eamon growled, striding forward. I followed close behind.


    The woman turned her re on Eamon. "And who are you?"


    "Her brother," Eamon said coldly. "What exactly are you using my sister of?"


    "Your sister," the woman sneered, "attacked my son unprovoked. Look at his arm! We could press charges for this!"


    I studied the boy carefully. The "bruise" looked suspiciously like dirt or marker ink, hastily applied. The boy caught my gaze and quickly looked away, shifting ufortably.


    Erin had started to cry silently, her small shoulders shaking.


    "Erin," Eamon said gently, crouching beside her. "What happened? You can tell me."


    Before she could answer, the woman cut in again. "Don''t bother asking her! Children like that learn to lie from an early age. No parents to teach them proper manners—"


    "Enough," I said quietly.


    Something in my tone made her fall silent instantly. I stepped forward, my newfound mental energy naturally extending outward, creating an almost palpable aura of authority.


    "The child is clearly frightened," I continued. "Let her speak."


    The woman huffed. "And who are you supposed to be?"


    "A friend of the family," I replied evenly. "One who doesn''t appreciate seeing children bullied by adults or false usations made without evidence."


    Her face reddened. "How dare you! My son would never lie about—"


    "Your son''s ''bruise'' is fake," I stated tly. "Poorly applied, I might add."


    Jordan''s eyes widened in panic, and he unconsciously rubbed at his arm, smearing the mark.


    The woman''s mouth opened and closed wordlessly.


    I knelt down to Erin''s level, my voice softening. "Hello, Erin. My name is Liam. I''m a friend of your brother''s."


    Erin looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.


    "Jordan keeps taking my lunch," she whispered. "He said if I told anyone, he''d hurt me worse than before."


    "You little liar!" the woman shrieked, making Erin flinch.


    I ced myself between them, shielding Erin from the woman''s anger.


    "I think we''re done here," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous register. "Unless you''d like to continue this conversation at the local police station? I''m sure they''d be interested in hearing about a grown woman intimidating a young orphan."


    The threat hit home. The woman grabbed her son''s arm. "Come on, Jordan. We don''t need to waste time with these people."


    As they stalked away, Jordan looked back once, his face a mixture of fear and resentment.


    I turned back to find Erin still trembling, clinging to her brother''s hand.


    "Is she telling the truth?" Eamon asked softly. "Has this been happening for a while?"


    Erin nodded miserably. "He takes my food every day. Today I tried to stop him, and he pushed me. I pushed back, but then he fell and started crying."


    Eamon''s face darkened with anger. "Why didn''t you tell me?"


    "You were in trouble," Erin whispered. "I didn''t want to make things worse."


    The simple statement hit me hard. A child suffering in silence to protect her brother—it reminded me too much of my own childhood.


    I knelt down again, meeting Erin''s eyes. "You don''t have to be afraid anymore," I said softly. "Your brother is here now. And so am I."


    Her tear-streaked face looked up at me uncertainly.


    I gave her a reassuring smile and gently patted her head. "Just say what''s on your mind; don''t be afraid, no one is going to do anything to you."