Chapter 187 — The Real Ant I

Damian didn’t realize that his deal with Gia had created chaos among the Noble families, forcing them to step back from direct confrontation.

The confusion was understandable given the Federation’s complex power structure.

Noble families, despite their arrogance and influence, were ultimately subordinate to the thirteen Imperial families who truly controlled the Federation’s direction.

But the world of Noble politics was far more chaotic than simple hierarchies suggested.

Even within individual Noble houses, branches fought each other viciously for power and resources. Loyalty to their ruling Imperial family was often secondary to personal advancement.

And crucially, no Noble family bothered asking their Imperial overlords about the Mafia situation.

Because from an Imperial perspective, small criminal organizations were beneath notice. Irrelevant to the grand political games they played.

The Imperial families knew about Damian Valcor as a rising talent – his Demon fight and portal survival had ensured that much.

But most didn’t care beyond academic interest.

Some Imperial houses did note with mild concern that he seemed capable of turning commoners toward organized resistance against Noble authority.

But they also knew he was Kaiser’s disciple.

And they knew his family had deep connections to the military – not surface-level associations, but genuine influence built over decades of service.

That information created a protective buffer most Imperials weren’t willing to test without significant cause.

All they could do was force the Academy professors to not guide him.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, this crucial context wasn’t known by the Noble families themselves.

They hadn’t researched thoroughly enough. Hadn’t looked past surface-level records. Hadn’t considered that a "commoner" family might have resources beyond their apparent station.

And the Kestrel Noble Family was among the most ignorant.

****

[Stormhold Academy - Eastern Garden - Midnight]

Damian entered the Academy grounds late, his body still trembling slightly from the aftereffects of nearly dying hours ago.

The eastern garden was deserted at this hour, moonlight casting long shadows across carefully maintained paths.

He walked slowly, his mind replaying the moment when that fist had come down toward his head, when he’d accepted death with strange calm.

’I would have died if the Unnamed Four hadn’t intervened...’

For reasons he didn’t fully understand, he pulled out his communication device and called his mother.

Usually, he never called her or reached out unprompted except for scheduled check-ins.

But tonight, having come so close to permanent absence, he needed to hear her voice.

The call connected after two rings.

"...Damy? What happened? You don’t usually call us, and especially not this late at night. Is everything okay, baby?"

Lyandra’s voice carried immediate concern, her maternal instincts recognizing the unusual behavior.

Hearing her familiar tone, feeling the genuine worry underneath, made something in Damian’s chest loosen.

He looked down at his torn clothing, removing his coat and shirt, tossing both into his spatial ring.

Moonlight washed over his muscular frame, highlighting the scars both old and new that covered his enhanced body.

"I just wanted to say I reached the Academy safely. I was in the city earlier handling some organizational matters."

His voice was carefully controlled, almost casual.

"I see... Make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t skip meals or push too hard with training. Call us if you need anything at all."

Standard maternal advice. The kind he’d heard hundreds of times.

But tonight it felt different. More precious and a reminder of what he’d almost lost.

After talking with her for some time.

Damian paused, the words catching in his throat before he forced them out.

"I love you, Mom. Good night."

Silence on the other end.

Then Lyandra’s voice emerged, softer than before.

"...I love you too, Damy. Sleep well."

Then, the call ended.

Damian stood there in the moonlight, feeling oddly lighter despite everything that had happened.

’Why did I say that? It feels too weird!’

****

[Valcor Residence - Master Bedroom]

Lyandra and Alaric sat together on their bed, Lyandra still holding the communication device.

The moment Damian’s connection terminated, the temperature in the room dropped noticeably.

Cold Aura spread from Lyandra’s body like frost, her expression shifting from maternal warmth to something absolutely glacial.

Her black eyes, usually soft when looking at family, became empty of everything except cold calculation.

Alaric’s silver eyes also hardened, his normally relaxed posture straightening, his presence becoming the thing that had made enemies flee across multiple battlefields.

Lyandra turned to look at her husband.

But she didn’t say a word as there was no need to say anything.

They’d both recognized what Damian’s call actually meant.

Their son never called unprompted. Never expressed emotion so openly unless something was desperately wrong.

He’d tried to reassure them and tried to sound normal.

But they’d raised that boy for sixteen years. And even if he changed recently, he still showed some similar past behaviours.

Something had happened in the city.

Something severe enough that he’d needed to hear his mother’s voice before he could feel safe again.

Which meant that something had pushed him close enough to the edge that he’d needed reassurance from family.

And whoever had done that was about to learn why the Twin Terrors had been legendary.

****

[Kestrel Noble Family Villa]

The estate sprawled across a full kilometer, multiple buildings housing hundreds of family members, servants, and guards.

This was the seat of power for a major branch of the Kestrel Noble Family, wealthy and influential beyond most commoners’ comprehension.

At the center of the compound stood the main house, where the branch leader lived in luxury befitting his status.

Rubious Kestrel. S rank awakener and a mind manipulation specialist.

Father of Mara Kestrel, the Student Council member Damian had humiliated months ago.

And the man responsible for orchestrating attacks on Ronan’s, Ariana’s and Zavier’s families.

He sat in his study, expensive whiskey in hand, waiting for confirmation that Damian Valcor had been eliminated.

Four A rank operatives should have been more than sufficient.

The boy was talented, yes, but still just C- rank and still just a student

The execution should have been reported hours ago.

But his communication device remained silent.

’What’s taking so long? Killing one teenager shouldn’t require this much time. Unless...’

Rubious’s eyes narrowed, his S rank perception suddenly detecting something wrong.

The villa was too quiet.

No sounds of servants moving through halls. No distant conversations or footsteps. No background noise of a compound housing hundreds of people.

Just... silence.

Eerie, complete and unnatural silence.