"…And that concludes today’s report."
"Good work. You seem to have sustained quite a few injuries. Did something happen?"
"Yes…! I was pursued by a rather troublesome bee…"
Late that night, in Eugene’s private room at the House of Clay, Mad stood delivering his report, his body covered in wounds. He subconsciously rubbed his sore spots, recalling how he had been stung—or more accurately, repeatedly stabbed—in the back and buttocks while fleeing from Misery. He continued his explanation to Eugene.
"To be honest, he exceeded my every expectation. Regarding his strength, I assumed he would possess a level befitting a member of the House of Clay, regardless of his past failings… but his charisma was entirely unforeseen. Even with his achievements on Wind Island taken into account, I never imagined he would cultivate such unwavering trust in so short a time."
"…So, that fool has changed. Or perhaps this was his true nature all along? If so, then I was utterly deceived."
The scandalous reputation of Yugo—who had spent his youth doing as he pleased while using his position as the Next Head of the House of Clay as a shield—had frequently reached Eugene’s ears. That very reputation had been the catalyst for his disinheritance. Between Yugo's defeat in the duel and his numerous acts that had dragged the family name through the mud, Eugene had felt forced to make his final decision.
However, Yugo’s exploits since then had been nothing short of extraordinary. Eugene had employed others to investigate his son’s movements, yet Yugo's true goals and motivations remained a complete mystery. Among the branch houses, there were those who now whispered that Eugene was the real fool—a man incapable of recognizing his own son's genius before casting him out. Eugene, however, brushed such thoughts aside.
"Well done. You are dismissed."
"Yes, my lord!"
Mad bowed deeply to the current head of the house and quietly withdrew from the room. Once alone, Eugene looked out the window at the sprawling night sky. He let out a long sigh and whispered to the empty room.
"To remain a brother he can be proud of, hm?"
The goal Yugo had stated to Drowa was entirely unexpected. Eugene had always known that Yugo held Fee in high regard, but he had assumed those feelings were rooted in the expectations for the boy’s potential talent. Now, reflecting on everything that had transpired, it was clear that Yugo’s feelings for Fee were nothing less than pure brotherly love.
Eugene wasn't sure whether he should blame his own lack of insight for failing to see it, or praise Yugo for his skill in concealing it for so long. There was even a possibility that the theory held by many—that Yugo had suffered memory loss and his previous behavior had been a calculated performance to ensure his exile—was also wide of the mark.
Regardless, there was no doubt that the current Yugo had become a man whose scale far exceeded the imagination of Eugene or anyone else. A faint smile played across Eugene's lips as he thought of his son’s simple wish to be a proud older brother. The expression vanished in an instant, but as he sat back in his chair, he spoke again.
"It seems he truly has no intention of returning. Very well then—walk your own path, just as you have come to believe in it."
Eugene did not fully understand what Yugo meant by his other goal—becoming a hero—or what kind of future that entailed. Yet, seeing the son who shared his blood preparing to spread his wings so grandly filled him with a sense of pride that was purely fatherly.
Will he achieve something that makes the position of the Next Head of the House of Clay seem trivial?
Eugene shook his head and gave a small, self-deprecating laugh, wondering if he was overestimating the boy.
"For now, I suppose I should ward off the pesky nobles pestering Yugo and Fee," Eugene murmured. He began to move from the shadows, determined to protect his sons' futures.