Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill

“Ambrose Family!”

Ethan repeated the name, his brows drawing together as his expression darkened. He looked at Herion, who stood straight with a serious face.

“Yes,” Herion replied with a nod. “They said they had the backing of the Ambrose Family.”

Ethan rubbed his chin slowly. “I feel like I have heard that name before, but I cannot place it.” He turned toward the desk and began flipping through a stack of documents. After a moment, he pulled out a thin file and scanned it.

“Here,” he muttered.

He read aloud while skimming the page. “The Halcrest Family, renowned for healers. The Ambrose Family, controllers of the financial capital. The Cravik Clan, swordsmen by blood. And the Devine Family, known for their mage lineage.”

He let out a slow breath.

“These four are major clans,” Ethan said, tapping the paper. “They are like those great families in wuxia novels. They don’t have any official noble titles, yet they hold power far beyond many nobles.”

Herion listened quietly.

“Shit,” Ethan muttered, his brows creasing deeper. “This might get troublesome.”

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He did not yet know how the Ambrose Family would react. To them, this might be a small issue, or it might already be spreading quietly behind the scenes.

Either way, it was not something to ignore.

Ethan suddenly felt a sense of urgency pressing on his chest. He sat up straight and looked at Herion.

“You did well,” Ethan said firmly. “You handled it properly. As for the trouble, leave it to me.”

Herion relaxed slightly. “Thanks.”

He gave a short salute and turned around, already preparing to leave.

“What the hell!” Ethan suddenly shouted.

Herion froze mid step and slowly turned back. “What?”

“When did I say you could leave?” Ethan demanded.

Herion blinked and tilted his head, clearly confused. “Then… what more orders do you have?”

Ethan clenched his teeth for a moment.

This punk.

He took a breath and forced himself to calm down.

“Haa… listen,” Ethan said, waving a hand. “You have grown up now.”

Herion crossed his arms loosely. “Yes, I noticed. I am taller.”

“That is not what I mean,” Ethan snapped.

“You have a family now,” Ethan continued. “And responsibilities.”

Herion’s relaxed posture stiffened a little.

“It is time for you to settle down,” Ethan said.

Herion’s eyes widened slightly. A faint sense of danger crawled up his spine.

“You mean…” Herion began carefully.

“Yes,” Ethan said without hesitation. “I am going to make you the Lord of the new developing territory.”

Silence.

Herion stared at him.

Then he grabbed his chest dramatically.

“Ah,” he groaned. “My heart.”

Ethan frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I think I am having a heart attack,” Herion replied weakly. “Father, I am too young to die.”

“You are almost twenty,” Ethan said flatly. “And you act like you are eighty.”

Herion rubbed his face. “Do you know what that means? No wandering around.I can’t go on sudden trips. No late night party. Stuck in endless reports. Endless meetings.”

He looked up with a hollow gaze. “My freedom. My remaining youth. All drowned in paperwork.”

Ethan crossed his arms and watched him with amusement. “You sound like I just sentenced you to death.”

“It feels worse,” Herion replied. “Death is quick.”

Ethan snorted. “You are exaggerating.”

Herion shook his head. “You say that because you already went through it.”

Ethan stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. His grip was firm, steady, and warm. His voice softened, losing its earlier teasing tone.

“This is not punishment,” Ethan said calmly.

“You will surely enjoy this.”

Herion looked at him sideways, clearly unconvinced. “Do you even believe your own words, Dad?”

Ethan paused for a moment. His lips pressed into a thin line as he thought.

“What about big brother?” Herion asked, breaking the brief silence.

Ethan exhaled slowly. “He is grinding hard somewhere else. I got his letter recently. He is working as an adventurer and gaining experience.” His eyes showed a hint of pride mixed with worry.

Then Ethan continued, his tone turning serious. “You have strength. You have judgment. And you have seen the filth of this world. That is why I am giving this to you.” He paused, then added in a weary voice, “Also, I need to enter seclusion.”

Herion turned his head sharply. “Seclusion?”

Ethan nodded and came up with an excuse “The accumulated intent, the pressure from everything that has happened, is still stored inside me. If I do not deal with it now, it will become a problem later.”

Herion went quiet. He looked away for a moment and let out a long breath.

“So… I cannot run away?” he asked quietly.

“You can,” Ethan replied calmly. “But I will drag you back.”

Herion let out a dry laugh. “That sounds horrifying.”

Still, he straightened his back and stood properly. He looked at Ethan again, this time with a steadier gaze. “Alright. I will do it.”

Ethan smiled faintly, the kind of smile that carried trust more than praise.

“But,” Herion added quickly, raising a finger, “if I go bald from stress, I am blaming you.”

Ethan laughed openly. “Deal.”

Herion shook his head and muttered under his breath as he turned away. “I should have stayed drunk at that auction.”

Ethan watched him go, his expression calm but thoughtful. The boy’s back looked straighter than before, even if his steps were reluctant.

Just as Herion reached the doorway, he stopped suddenly.

“But Father,” he said, turning back, “I cannot be the only one, right?”

Herion smiled faintly and looked at Ethan. Ethan’s lips curved into a knowing smirk.

“So you are thinking the same thing I am,” Ethan said.

Their gazes met, and there was a shared understanding between them. Neither said the name out loud, but both of them knew exactly who would be dragged into this next.

Far away, in the training field.

A woman stood before a battered wooden dummy. Her grip on the sword was tight, her stance sharp and precise. Without hesitation, she swung.

BANG!

The blade slammed into the dummy.

BANG!

Again.

BANGGG!

The sound echoed across the training ground as she hammered the wooden post again and again. Sweat ran down her temple, but her eyes remained focused and fierce.

She raised her sword for another strike, but suddenly her nose twitched.

“Achooooo!”

Her body tilted slightly as she coughed and nearly slipped.

“What happened, sister?” Leo asked from the side. He rushed forward, worry clear on his face.

Nera wiped her nose with the back of her hand and frowned. “I do not know. Suddenly I feel a bit chilly.”

“Chilly?” Leo repeated, confused. He lifted his head and looked up at the sky.

The sky was clear.

Not a single cloud drifted above them. The sun was warm, and the wind was gentle.

Yet for some reason, Nera felt a strange unease creeping up her spine, as if something unseen had just taken notice of her.