"Adrian!"
Outside Winters Manor at night, Martha gasped and threw herself into Adrian's arms.
"Oh my goodness, I thought I'd never see you again."
Her big belly pressed against him — a sign of life growing inside her, a reminder of all that awaited them. Tears carved tracks down her cheeks as she clung to her youngest son.
"It's so good that you're back."
Martha's voice trembled. "You weren't hurt, were you, Adrian?"
She brushed tears from his face, worry and love warring in her eyes. "Your face looks thinner than before. You must have suffered so much."
"I'm fine, Mom," Adrian said in his calm, almost dismissive way, the tone of someone who'd walked through hell and come out unconcerned. "I just went on a long trip. Sorry for making you and Dad worry."
Jonathan stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Adrian's shoulder. His voice was thick with emotion, steadier than his wife's but just as deep.
"It's good that you're back, good that you're safe."
Although he rarely wore his feelings on his sleeve, no one could miss the pride and relief in his eyes.
"Clark isn't with you?" Jonathan suddenly remembered his eldest son.
"Clark…" Adrian hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "He's not with me."
He didn't reveal Clark's true situation. Seeing his parents so vulnerable, especially his mother, he chose to protect them from the harsher truth.
"I see," Jonathan said, his brow creased deeply. The worry lines on his face seemed a permanent fixture now.
"Let's go home," Jonathan decided, glancing at the small farmhouse not far off in the night.
"Is this Baron Winters' residence?" Martha asked, curiosity mixed with caution.
Adrian looked back at the manor, the strange, old‑world architecture washed in moonlight. In the magical world, Baron Winters was a name with weight, reputation, and mystery.
"Yes, Baron Winters is a very interesting person," Martha said with a light laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes, clearly still processing her son's return. "But there was just one thing that made my heart nearly stop…"
Martha glanced at her husband. "He keeps a leopard. When I first saw it, I nearly had a heart attack. I later learned it wouldn't hurt anyone, but seeing a big cat just strutting around inside a house still makes my heart pound."
"A leopard…" Adrian scoffed inwardly. If it weren't for the fact the man was a powerful figure in the magical world, he might have contemplated educating him on basic animal etiquette. Even knowing the beast was tame, Adrian found the idea baffling.
Inside Winters Manor.
By the moonlight, Baron Winters watched Adrian's family walk off into the night.
A leopard with patterned fur sat obediently beside him, its gaze steady and calm.
"Not blind," Winters murmured to the cat, "I know he's gone, Merlin."
Merlin was the big cat's name — fitting, Winters thought.
"It was because of people like him that I formed my creed," Winters said abruptly, leaning on his cane and pacing toward the fireplace. "Trust neither the selfless nor the villains."
He leaned in closer to the raging fire, flicked his cane once, and the flames burst higher.
"The selfless insist on doing what's right rather than what's necessary," he said with a slow-toned seriousness. "And the wicked cause greater chaos without even knowing it. You and I, we must preserve the balance between good and evil."
Merlin simply watched the flames, unblinking.
Winters spread his hand toward the fire. Within the dancing embers, a vague image resembling Adrian flickered and vanished.
"Adrian," Winters whispered, "he embodies both good and evil. He should be harmonious, and yet…" He paused, gaze drifting into the blaze. "I cannot fathom how he repelled the Trinity Goddess."
He stood abruptly and strode toward his study. Merlin followed closely.
Within the quiet room filled with shelves of arcane texts, Winters pulled a book and read deeply.
"The balance of the magic world has fractured, and he is the one who caused it," Winters murmured. "I should have prepared forces to contain Adrian, but I changed my mind."
He turned to Merlin with a thoughtful look.
"His parents are ordinary people. He contains both light and darkness, but parental love will keep him from losing himself entirely. That, at least, is not a bad thing."
Winters closed the book with a sharp snap. Instantly, the lights in the room vanished, as though the world beyond had darkened with it.
The next day.
After a night at the inn, Adrian and his parents returned to their farm.
The sight hit Jonathan with a hollow pang — the fields were in ruins.
"It's okay." Martha approached him and offered a soft smile. "Do you remember our first summer of marriage? A tornado destroyed everything. The barn, the crops, the animals… it was terrible. But we rebuilt."
She looked across the land, where simple farm buildings still stood, and smiled wider.
"We're better off now than we were then."
Jonathan exhaled slowly. "We'll rebuild again. I've done it before."
He paused, glancing at the ruined fields.
"It feels like we're going bankrupt."
Martha reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.
"My dad called," she said after a moment, voice wavering slightly. "If we need help, he'd be willing to offer it."
Jonathan frowned and shook his head firmly.
"No. I'll find a way, Martha. Not by taking charity. Even if I take a loan or mortgage the land, I won't do it under someone's pity."
He walked into the ruins to salvage whatever he could.
Martha watched, her heart torn between pride and worry.
Adrian stood nearby, about to speak, when Martha looked at him and gave a lopsided smile.
He looked at the farm and merely nodded.
Martha pressed a hand to her belly.
"Don't let your father's stubbornness become a rift," she said gently. "He just doesn't want to admit defeat. If he took your grandfather's check, it would feel like accepting that I was wrong to marry him, that there was no future in it. Your father wants to prove he can give me happiness."
"I understand," Adrian said quietly.
He already knew his father's temperament after years of watching him face hardship with stubborn pride. It made sense now why he refused help.
"Mom," Adrian said after a moment, "because of the 'Slumber Day' incident in Metropolis, my book jumped back onto the bestseller list."
He watched her reaction carefully.
"The royalty and advances should help a lot with rebuilding the farm."
Martha blinked in surprise. "Royalties and advances?"
"Yes," Adrian said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a credit card. "This is from my publisher. It has about one hundred thousand dollars on it."
Martha took it in a daze, unable to process it immediately.
"Is this really okay?" she asked after a moment, handing the card back. "No, Adrian, this is yours. We can't accept it."
"It's fine," he said with a small smirk. "Consider it my investment in the farm. I won't need dividends in the future."
He paused and smiled at both his parents.
"Someday, Clark or I might inherit this place. Investing in our own future seems normal, doesn't it?"
Martha's eyes glistened as she wrapped her arms around him once more.
"Thank you, Adrian."
Jonathan, hearing this, felt a pang of guilt that his youngest son had become the one supporting the family.
Later, as they drove toward Metropolis to buy materials for rebuilding, the truck sped along the highway.
"Dad, I'll pay you back," Jonathan said, gripping the wheel. "You'll need this when you go to college. It's important."
"It's not," Adrian replied, eyes on the rushing landscape outside. "I don't think I won't be able to earn money before college."
Jonathan wanted to argue, but by then the truck had already pulled up in front of the building supplies store.
"Stay here and watch the truck. I'll go speak with them," Jonathan instructed as he stepped out.
But just as he reached the sidewalk, a rogue car suddenly swerved erratically, heading straight for him.
Adrian, sitting in the passenger seat, locked eyes with the oncoming danger.
Whoosh!
In a blur of movement, he activated his speed and vanished from sight.