NOVPUBRyan struggled to find the right words, hemming and hawing for ages, until Leeroy finally decided to step in.
It turned out that ten years ago, when the three Chase siblings had accompanied Dr. Aldric to the Silverwood estate for a major gathering, Ryan had gotten a bit… ambitious.
Fascinated by the Silverwood family's legendary technique, he had been determined to sneak a peek and learn it.
The night before the event, he sneaked into the training quarters, hid in an outhouse, and squatted there all night—just so he could spy on the morning lessons the next day.
Unfortunately, in his excitement, he had picked the wrong stall, he had ended up in the women's restroom.
To make matters worse, the next morning, a young woman—who had apparently eaten something bad—rushed into the stall in distress… only to realize too late that she had forgotten to bring any toilet paper.
Hearing movement from the next stall, she immediately asked for help.
Ryan, without thinking, blurted out, "I don't have any either!"
A moment of stunned silence.
Then, without warning, the woman let out a bloodcurdling scream and bolted out of the restroom.
Within minutes, a whole squad of furious women stormed the place, dragged Ryan out, and gave him the beating of a lifetime before hauling him to the training grounds for public shaming.
The commotion was so big that Dr. Aldric had to personally step in. After learning the details, he quietly passed along a message to Ryan:
No matter what happens, don't tell them you were there to steal Veilhand. Let them think you're a pervert—it's better than getting executed.
And that was how Ryan's infamous reputation as the bathroom creeper had spread through the Silverwood estate.
"I was there ten years ago too," Evelyn frowned. "How did I never hear about this?"
Leeroy scoffed. "You? You spent twenty-two hours a day sleeping, and the other two stuffing your face. What exactly would you have heard?"
Ryan, embarrassed beyond belief, finally saw his chance for revenge. He latched onto her slip-up and fired back, "Ha! And you call me useless? You were literally unconscious for most of your childhood!"
"Uh…" Evelyn shut her mouth, face turning red. It was true—she had slept a lot as a kid. But still, she puffed up in indignation and huffed.
"Hmph. Looks like someone doesn't want any more rabbit stew."
Leeroy sighed. "Can we please not eat rabbit in front of me?"
---
Ethan had been listening to their banter but was too restless to join in. Today had been a disaster. Not only had he gotten injured, but he hadn't even managed to gather any information on Lyla.
He hadn't even made it past the outer perimeter of the estate.
Just thinking about her made his anxiety spike. Without another word, he stood up and strode toward the door.
"Where are you going?" all three Chase siblings asked at once.
"I'm going back." Ethan didn't wait for their response and walked out.
---
Navigating the estate was easier this time—he already knew the terrain. When he neared the training grounds, he activated Panther Form and extended his senses to their limit.
As expected—
Whizz!
A sharp sound sliced through the air. Ethan instinctively dodged as a pebble, aimed straight at his forehead, whizzed past his ear instead.
"Oh? You again? And your injury… it's already healed?" The old man's voice rang out, laced with surprise.
"Yeah, it's me again, old bastard! Now let me through—I'm looking for someone."
Ethan didn't bother with pleasantries. He knew groveling wouldn't work on this guy, so he might as well get some satisfaction from mouthing off.
Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!
Three more pebbles shot toward him in a tight triangle formation.
But Ethan was ready this time. With Panther Form boosting his speed, he easily sidestepped the attack.
Last time, he had been caught off guard. The old man had fired a quick double-shot, hitting him before he could recover. Now? Ethan was prepared. His body blurred as he dodged, the pebbles slicing past him harmlessly.
"Heh. That's all you got, old bastard? Didn't you say you wouldn't attack twice?"
"I'm keeping track—you've hit me seven times already!"
Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!
"Twelve times now… You shameless old man!"
Ethan dodged as he shouted his complaints.
"Boy, when the hell did I hit you twelve times?!" The old man finally stopped his assault, sounding indignant.
"Count them yourself! Haven't you thrown twelve pebbles already? Or maybe you just missed a few, and they landed somewhere else."
Ethan stayed on high alert, half-expecting the old man to lose his temper and start flinging pebbles at him like a child throwing sand in a tantrum.
"You… Hah! As if I would miss. Alright, kid, let's see how much longer you can keep dodging—take this!"
Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!
A storm of pebbles shot toward him, no longer aimed with precision, but scattered wildly in every direction, like a meteor shower.
"Oh, come on! I knew it! Old man, you're just throwing a tantrum now because you're losing!"
Ethan cursed as he twisted and weaved, his body moving like it had no bones. Despite the sheer number of projectiles, the attack wasn't tightly packed, nor did it seem to have a specific target.
Just like he had suspected—it was nothing more than a desperate flurry, the kind a child might throw when they couldn't win fairly.
Taking advantage of the gaps, Ethan advanced, closing in on the training grounds. He was already over a hundred meters in.
He was going to see exactly who this shameless ol man was.
To his surprise, the barrage of pebbles stopped.
It seemed the old man hadn't expected Ethan to pass through his Flying Sandstorm technique completely unscathed.
Of course, Ethan had his Panther Form to thank for that—its speed and agility boosts made dodging far easier.
More importantly, within a hundred-meter radius, his soul sense had already mapped out every incoming projectile.
He could tell instantly which pebbles posed a threat and which ones would miss. So, instead of panicking, he had simply sidestepped the ones that mattered.
The whole technique relied on randomness and chaos. Against normal people, it was an overwhelming attack.
But against someone who could see through the chaos? It was nothing more than a child's game.
"You said you were looking for someone. Who is it?" The old man's voice rang out again.
Ethan slowed his steps slightly, sensing the attack had stopped.
It was strange.
Despite all the insults he had thrown, despite the clear provocation, the old man hadn't truly lost his temper.
That only made Ethan more cautious.
"I'm looking for Lyla."
A brief pause. Then—
"Hm? Lyla? You know her?" The old man sounded genuinely surprised.
"Of course I do. Your Silverwood family locked her away, treating her like some damn trophy for your little tournament. You're forcing her into a marriage she doesn't want, and I'm here to take her out of this place."
Ethan didn't hold back. There was no point in playing nice.
Sooner or later, this would turn into a full confrontation, so why bother pretending?
After his words, there was only silence.
Taking the chance, Ethan crept a little further in.
He made sure not to move too quickly—getting too close would leave him with less room to dodge.
But as he advanced, a strange thought struck him.
The old man had been attacking from the same location the entire time. Even when Ethan had retreated earlier, the old man hadn't pursued him.
It was almost as if… he couldn't move.
"Kid… is what you said true?" The old man finally broke the silence. His voice was steady, but there was something odd about his tone.
Ethan hesitated, stopping in place. "Of course it's true. Who the hell are you, anyway? Stop with the tricks and just tell me!"
By now, he had reached the center of the training grounds.
Based on the trajectory of the pebbles earlier, they had all originated from about a hundred meters ahead of him. But his soul sense was now covering that entire area.
And there was nothing there. No person. No presence.
Yet the voice continued to speak, as if whispering directly into his ear. A chill crawled up Ethan's spine.
This old man's strength… was far beyond what he had expected.
