My Anime Shopping Tree & My Cold Prodigy Wife!
Episode : 78

Chapter : 155

Roy listened, his expression unreadable, absorbing the partial admission. "Steel," he repeated, the word resonating with a strange, almost ancient significance. "And fire." His gaze became distant, thoughtful, as if accessing a deep, seldom-visited archive of memory. "The old tales. The whispers. The true Ferrum legacy, before the… dilutions. Before the public facade of mere 'Iron Blood' was established for security, for survival." He looked back at Lloyd, a new, almost startling intensity in his eyes. "How, Lloyd? How did you come by this knowledge? This control? The 'Book of Ferrum: True Lineage', the one detailing the path to awakening the Steel Blood, to undoing the ancestral curse that binds our true power… that book is sealed. Known only to the Arch Duke. I have not yet shown it to you. I deemed you… unready." The unspoken implication: How do you wield a power you should not yet comprehend, let alone master?

A trap. A direct, pointed question designed to expose any deception, any hidden source of knowledge. Lloyd felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine. He couldn't admit to finding the book in his previous life. He couldn't reveal the System’s potential for buying Void powers (though he hadn't yet). He needed a different explanation. One that played into their existing understanding, yet allowed for his unexpected development.

He feigned confusion, a look of genuine bewilderment crossing his face. "Steel Blood, Father? An ancestral curse? The Book of Ferrum?" He shook his head slowly, as if trying to process unfamiliar, almost mythical concepts. "I… I confess, I know nothing of these things. I have merely… focused. Meditated. Tried to understand the power that flows within me, the Ferrum blood. It… it just responded differently this time. The steel, the fire… it felt… natural. Innate. As if it were always there, just waiting to be properly grasped." He looked down at his hands, as if marveling at some newfound, inexplicable talent. "I simply… willed it, and it obeyed."

He looked back up at his father, projecting an air of earnest, slightly dazed, discovery. Let him think I’m some kind of prodigy, Lloyd strategized wildly. A once-in-a-generation talent who stumbled into awakening the true power through sheer instinct and dumb luck, bypassing the need for ancient texts and forgotten rituals. It’s more palatable than ‘I died, went to another planet, came back with a magic shopping list and a serious case of déjà vu’.

Roy Ferrum stared at his son, his mind clearly grappling with this new, even more perplexing, possibility. Lloyd, using the Steel Blood without the book, without the knowledge, without the ritual to break the curse? It was… theoretically impossible. The curse, a self-imposed limitation from generations past, designed to shield the true Ferrum power from those who would misuse it, was supposed to bind the full potential until specific rites, detailed only in the sealed book, were performed. For Lloyd to have bypassed it, to have awakened the true Steel and Fire through sheer innate talent and willpower… it was unheard of. It would make him not just powerful, but a genius of a caliber not seen in the Ferrum line for centuries. A true, unadulterated expression of their most ancient, most potent, bloodline.

A slow, almost stunned expression began to dawn on Roy Ferrum’s face. It wasn’t disbelief, but a dawning, almost fearful, awe. "You… you undid the curse?" he murmured, more to himself than to Lloyd. "On your own? Without the Truths? Simply by… instinct?" He looked at Lloyd again, a profound, almost unsettling reassessment occurring. The boy he had deemed mediocre, average… was he, in fact, a diamond of unparalleled brilliance, merely hidden beneath layers of youthful insecurity and a lack of proper guidance? Had Roy himself misjudged, underestimated, failed to see the true potential lurking within his own son? The thought was both exhilarating and deeply humbling.

"It would seem," Roy concluded, his voice regaining some of its usual gravitas, though now tinged with this new, almost reverent understanding, "that you possess a level of innate talent, Lloyd, a connection to the core Ferrum lineage, that surpasses even my most optimistic, if previously unvoiced, hopes." He paused, a flicker of something that might have been paternal pride – fierce, unexpected, almost painful in its intensity – crossing his stern features before being ruthlessly suppressed. "You are a true Ferrum, it appears. Perhaps more so than many who have borne the name."

Lloyd merely inclined his head, accepting the pronouncement with feigned humility, while internally, his eighty-year-old self was doing a frantic victory lap. He bought it! He actually bought the 'accidental prodigy' routine! Gods, the man wants to believe in me so badly, he'll accept almost any explanation, however far-fetched, as long as it doesn't involve interdimensional shopping sprees for superpowers!

Chapter : 156

Roy Ferrum seemed to gather himself, the ruler reasserting control over the momentarily stunned father. "This… changes things, Lloyd. Significantly." He tapped his fingers on the desk, his mind clearly racing, reassessing strategies, recalibrating expectations. "Your development, your true capabilities… they must be carefully managed, discreetly nurtured. The world is not yet ready to know the full extent of the Ferrum power, especially if it manifests so… unexpectedly… in the heir."

He fixed Lloyd with a look of utmost seriousness. "Which brings me to the final, most pressing matter. The Ferrum Family Annual Summit. It is scheduled to convene the day after tomorrow." He paused, letting the weight of the announcement sink in. The Summit was a rare gathering of the heads of all major and minor Ferrum branch families, a council designed to discuss policy, settle disputes, and reaffirm the strength and unity of the house. It was usually a tense, politically charged affair, with simmering rivalries and veiled ambitions often bubbling just beneath the surface of familial cordiality.

"However," Roy continued, his voice taking on a new, graver tone, "this Summit will be… different. For the first time in generations, outsiders will be present. Representatives from several key allied noble houses. Perhaps even an observer from the Royal Court itself." His eyes narrowed. "The recent… events… involving your uncle, Viscount Rubel," (the name was still spoken with a distinct chill) "have sent ripples through the Duchy. There are questions. Concerns. Whispers about instability within our house. This Summit is intended to be a demonstration of Ferrum strength, Ferrum unity, Ferrum resolve. To silence the doubters, to reassure our allies, and to send a clear message to our… rivals." He let the last word hang, the unspoken implication of Altamira and others clear.

"You, Lloyd," Roy declared, his gaze unwavering, "will attend. Not as a silent observer, as in previous years. But as the recognized heir, standing beside me. Your presence, your composure, your… newly apparent capabilities… they will be scrutinized. By our kin, by our allies, by our enemies. You must be prepared. Mentally. Physically. Politically."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intense command. "There is no room for error. No room for weakness. No room for 'mediocrity'. You will represent the future of this house. And you will not fail me."

The weight of the expectation, the sudden thrust onto a political stage far larger and more dangerous than any he had faced before, settled onto Lloyd’s shoulders. The Family Summit. Outsiders present. Him, the ‘accidental prodigy’, the ‘true Ferrum’, suddenly on display. This wasn't just about soap anymore. This was about power, perception, and the very future of the Ferrum Duchy. And he had less than forty-eight hours to prepare.

Well, Lloyd thought, a grim, determined smile touching his lips. So much for a quiet life of alchemical experimentation and avoiding giant snakes. Looks like the drab duckling is about to be thrown into the piranha tank. Good thing, he mused, feeling the faint thrum of Steel and Fire deep within his blood, and the promise of an awakened maternal bloodline pulsing in his System, I’m starting to grow some rather sharp teeth.

The weight of his father’s pronouncements – the Ferrum Family Summit, the presence of outsiders, the sudden, immense expectations resting squarely on his nineteen-year-old, yet eighty-year-old, shoulders – settled around Lloyd like a heavy, invisible cloak. The study, moments before a stage for paternal fury and surprising revelations, now felt confining, the air thick with unspoken political pressures. He needed space. He needed to think. He needed to process the dizzying shift in his perceived status, from ‘mediocre heir’ to ‘accidental prodigy capable of instinctively undoing ancestral curses’. It was a promotion he hadn't applied for, with a job description that probably included ‘not getting assassinated by jealous relatives or opportunistic foreign powers’.

He excused himself from his father’s presence with a respectful bow, his mind already churning, and headed, not towards the dusty confines of Master Elmsworth's lecture hall (duty could wait an hour, the fate of the Duchy, and his own sanity, took precedence), but towards the familiar solace of the Ferrum Estate gardens. The scent of damp earth, blooming roses, and freshly cut grass was a welcome antidote to the recycled air and simmering tensions of the ducal study.

He found a secluded bench beneath the shade of a sprawling, ancient willow tree, its tendrils trailing like green lace, creating a private, sun-dappled sanctuary. Fang, who had been patiently waiting near the estate entrance (Ken having presumably communicated his master’s temporary reprieve from academic torture), padded silently to lie at his feet, a comforting, solid presence, his golden eyes watchful.