Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 30 - 29 - Disciple and Master 1.

A few minutes passed in an uneasy silence, broken only by the gentle tapping of Crisaius's fingers on the armrest.

Then the old man squinted at Raven again. "You know... you're healing fast."

He could see Raven's movements getting less stiff and more relaxed, showing the absence of pain.

The boy turned his head lazily, still half-sunken into the pillows. "Well, I am a Vaise."

Every Vaise family member was born with a draconic physique, and that was the reason they could regenerate—everyone knew that.

"No, no. This is fast-fast," Crisaius continued, leaning forward slightly. "Even for an elite of our family, this would be quick. Your guts were hanging out like festival ribbons, boy. A lesser Vaise would still be twitching on a slab or dead already."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Then again, I suppose I'd be disappointed if you healed any slower. After all—" his tone dipped into biting sarcasm, "—you are the great miracle child. The only one to survive ten whole minutes in mana water baptism. The greatest genius the Vaise family has ever known."

He spread his arms with mock reverence. "How could I forget?"

Raven's eye twitched.

There it was.

That tone.

That patronizing, sharp-edged tone that dripped with the weight of "I expected better."

Raven could feel the insult humming under the words, not even veiled, just barely shy of a backhand across the ego.

Well, Crisaius was the type who believed in what he saw, so it wasn't uncalled for how he was dissatisfied with Raven being called a genius even without stepping into the real world.

Crisaius didn't think Raven had done anything noteworthy other than surviving against a stage five corrupted east.

And honestly? That was perfect.

Because it gave Raven an idea.

'If I offend him enough,' he thought, the gears in his head turning, 'maybe he'll hate me, kicking me out—throwing me straight back to the family or the academy gates.'

He straightened in bed slightly, preparing to deliver a masterstroke of disrespect. He had just the kind of venomous comeback to make any elderly pride shatter like porcelain.

He took in a breath, ready to declare, "You know, for someone called a legend, you sure act like—"

But before he could complete his words, something happened—his eyes shimmered.

There was a low, unmistakable hum—like the soft turning of gears behind his vision—buzzing through his skull, and he knew his Fate Eyes had been activated.

'What...?' Raven blinked, confused.

He didn't trigger it. He hadn't willed it. His eyes responded on their own, pulsing with quiet urgency.

It was as if the ability had sensed what he would do and wanted to stop him before that happened.

'Why did it—?' Raven's words got stuck in his throat as his eyes fell on Crisaius.

Standing in the glow of the room's lantern light, Crisaius Von Vaise was surrounded by a radiant indigo aura.

Raven momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Indigo.

It was Indigo.

It wasn't just rare.

It was the second-highest rating in the entire system of his Fate Eyes. He'd never seen it before. Not once.

Even Damien—the monstrous, reclusive principal of Cradle, the strongest known powerhouse in Cradle—had earned a green.

But this old beggar-looking man was glowing like fate had personally given him a thumbs-up.

Raven felt the blood drain from his face.

'This... changes things.'

Everything he had been planning—his escape, the schemes, and the Academy plots he was ready to manipulate—all of it dimmed in comparison to what stood in front of him.

Because Raven was many things, but above all, he was an opportunist.

He lived for chances.

And this?

This was the kind of chance you didn't find even once in a lifetime. He didn't know when he would find an opportunity of similar rank again.

Yet as Raven sat there, drowning in revelation, Crisaius watched him closely. The old man assumed Raven had shut up because of the earlier sarcasm.

"Tch. Don't pout," Crisaius grunted, waving a hand as if brushing away awkwardness. "I didn't mean all that. You're still young. You're probably still working on the 'worthy of praise' thing. No need to cry over it."

Raven didn't even hear him.

He stared into space, weighing the pros and cons of his next decision.

On one side were the Academy, the characters, the storylines, and some artifact-hunting quests in which he was emotionally invested.

On the other was an indigo-rated opportunity standing right in front of him.

It was a very tough decision, especially because he didn't know what kind of change his absence from the academy could bring.

After all, he was the protagonist.

But just then, something clicked inside his head.

'Wait...' he thought, his brows furrowed. 'I've been assuming the plot would just... happen. But... I'm the protagonist. The story can't move unless I'm there. So, how would the plot even take place?'

It was so obvious, it nearly made him laugh.

He had forgotten—he wasn't an extra but the protagonist.

'If I stay here, the plot will be delayed. It has to. The difficulty might increase, but with an Indigo-ranked opportunity, I don't think it would be impossible to face.' freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

A slow grin tugged at his lips as he mused. 'Man, it's good to be the protagonist. I can do whatever I want without worrying about the plot deviating and getting away from me. It will come to me. It's inevitable. I'm inevitable!'

Quickly, however, he hid his grin behind his palm, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

Everything had now changed.

He could learn whatever secrets were buried in Crisaius. Use him. Milk this old goat dry. All while the plot obediently followed behind him like a well-trained hound.

'Hahahaha,' he laughed inwardly, too happy for the first time.

Crisaius, meanwhile, had been on a mild rant about Raven's lack of discipline and how the youth these days all had "pretty faces and hollow brains."

He paused mid-sentence when he noticed Raven grinning. Not a smug grin, not a nervous twitch. But a full, cheek-hiding, caught-in-a-dream grin.

"...Do you," Crisaius asked slowly, frowning, "like being insulted?"

That was the only thing he could think of. After all, he had been speaking badly of the guy, and suddenly the guy started smiling.

Wasn't it strange?

Raven finally snapped out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"I said," Crisaius repeated, "do you—"

"What was that?" Raven tilted his head innocently, blinking up at the old man with eyes filled with wonder. "Did you say something, Master?"

Crisaius stared at him, stunned.

Just moments ago, this brat had been squirming to escape, wanting to escape this place even if it meant that was the last thing he would do—and now?

Now, he was calling him Master with a smile like they were halfway through a training montage?

The old man's brows twitched.

Raven's attitude hadn't just shifted. It had flipped like a coin or a cursed pancake.

He was now sure.

'A masochist disciple...' Crisaius drawled. 'It would be a first.'

"...It's nothing," Crisaius muttered finally, leaning back in his chair with a grunt. "You're... a very unique child."

Raven just smiled wider, the gleam in his Fate Eyes dimming slightly, but the spark behind them burning bright. "As you say, Master."

He remained oblivious to Crisaius's misunderstanding, looking forward to obtaining whatever opportunity lay here, unaware of how he would regret this decision in the coming days.