Chapter 93: — Loving Grandma.

Kael was stunned by her offer. His mother, Amber, had told him stories about Emily’s legendary past—how she had been a formidable force against the beastmen alliance, securing a miraculous victory for the empire.

But that glory had come at a brutal price; she had lost her husband and, with him, her hunger for conflict.

After retiring early to raise her children, she had spent years as a traveling vagabond mage, wandering the land in search of some hidden purpose and than settled here.

He knew from local gossip that many high-ranking mages had begged her to mentor their wards, only to be flatly rejected. Why, then, was she offering to mentor him?

Yet, despite his thoughts, he knew he was effectively cornered. He couldn’t say no.

For one, the mere thought of refusing her felt like an impossible task; he was genuinely impressed by her, and he feared that an outright rejection would only make her pry deeper into his secrets.

Beyond that, there was the looming threat of his mother. He had seen the hungry, desperate anticipation in Amber’s eyes the last time Emily had even glanced at his meridians.

Amber had been trying to get her mother to mentor the children for years. If Amber found out that Kael had turned down the golden opportunity of a lifetime, Kael was certain she wouldn’t be able to contain her rage. He had no real choice in the matter.

“Yes, Grandma! Is that even a question? Mom has told me so many stories about your feats in the wars—it would be an absolute honor to be taught by you,”

Kael said, his voice brimming with feigned enthusiasm. He moved quickly, dropping to his knees and kowtowing before her, his forehead touching the cool earth.

Having lived in this land his whole life, he knew exactly which customs would show the proper deference and seal the deal.

Emily let out a soft, pleased laugh.

“Haha! While I find your words a little flowery, I’ll take that as a yes.” She paused, her expression shifting from doting grandmother to focused mentor.

“Now, come closer. Sit right in front of me and start circulating your mana.”

As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Kael watched her, struck by how remarkably youthful she still looked.

Even with her hair completely white—which he knew from Amber wasn’t a sign of age, but a natural, ethereal trait—she could easily outshine the younger women in town.

She was dressed in her signature style, a flowing, pristine white garment that made her look almost spectral in the garden light.

He realized then that everything she owned seemed to be a shade of white, a color that suited her calm, mysterious presence perfectly.

Kael pushed aside the fleeting, intrusive thoughts about his grandmother’s elegance and focused entirely on the task at hand.

He knew better than to attempt even a fraction of the mind games he played with Amber; Emily was a different breed of predator, and her aura alone felt like an impenetrable fortress.

He closed his eyes, centering his energy, and began to cycle his mana according to his standard training patterns.

He felt Emily’s hands settle firmly on his shoulders, her palms cool and steady. Immediately, he felt her consciousness probe inward, moving with the precision of a master surgeon.

She didn’t just feel his energy; she seemed to be unspooling the very threads of his magical core.

Emily’s eyes narrowed slightly as the truth crystallized. She felt the raw, searing intensity of the mana flowing through Kael—it was unmistakably draconic. The signature was ancient, predatory, and undeniably potent.

Her confusion spiked; she had known for a long time that Kael was not her biological grandson.

Despite the elaborate fictions woven by Amber and her husband, no secrets could remain buried from someone of her caliber. But the identity of his parents was a trivial mystery compared to this.

How was a human child, with human meridians and a human soul, managing to command the power of a dragon without being consumed by it?

Emily, sensing the sudden, jarring resistance coming from Kael’s core, instinctively pulled back.

She felt like she had brushed against a dormant volcano; it wasn’t just raw power, but something ancient and defensive that didn’t belong in a child’s body.

Afraid that forcing her way in would cause permanent damage or trigger an uncontrollable backlash, she withdrew her presence, her expression unreadable.

“Now, I will teach you a specific circulation technique,” she said, her voice calm but authoritative. “I will guide your mana with mine for the first few times. Pay close attention and try to memorize the flow.”

Without waiting for a response, she surged her energy into his meridians. Kael let her lead, feeling her mana weave through his pathways like a cool, flowing stream.

To her, this was a complex lesson, but to Kael, it was almost trivial. He mastered the pattern instantly. He played along, however, staying perfectly still and letting her repeat the cycle over and over.

He realized she likely assumed he was a blank slate, unaware that he was already tethered to a power far greater than her own.

She’s strong, Kael thought, but she’s nowhere near the dragoness. He remembered the sheer, god-like arrogance in the dragoness’s voice, a being that looked at the entire human empire as nothing more than ants.

He didn’t expect much from her technique, but he still committed every nuance to memory.

If nothing else, it was a gesture of love from a woman who clearly cared for him, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings by showing anything less than perfect obedience.

“Did you remember it?” she finally asked, pulling her hands back.

“Yes, Grandma,” Kael replied, keeping his voice respectful and quick.

“Good. Once—”

She was cut off mid-sentence by a booming, intrusive voice echoing from the front of the property.

“Please allow us entry, oh great water mage Emily!”

The sudden shout shattered the tranquility of the garden.

Emily stiffened, her eyes narrowing as she looked toward the gate.

Kael felt a spike of annoyance—he had been enjoying the rare, quiet moment of being treated like a normal grandson, and whoever was at the door had just ruined it.