Anthur's eyes lit up the moment the rich aroma reached him, his stomach tightening in eager anticipation.
"Ahh… I can't wait to eat."
A woman stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her slightly damp hands on a towel. A faint trail of steam followed her, carrying the warm scent of spices into the room.
"Oh, you're here already. The food isn't ready yet—could you wait in the hall?"
Ren straightened instinctively, his posture turning respectful.
"Yes, Aunty, we can wait in the hall."
She paused.
Her eyes closed gently as a smile formed on her lips—but it lingered just a moment too long.
"Could you please stop calling me 'Aunty'? You see…" she said softly, her tone smooth yet edged with something subtle, "I'm not that old."
Ren blinked, caught off guard.
"Ah… alright… Mrs…"
"Sherlyn. You can call me Mrs. Sherlyn."
"Ah… okay, Mrs. Sherlyn," Ren replied, his voice more careful than before.
Beside him, Anthur pressed his lips together, his shoulders beginning to shake. His eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter.
Ren noticed.
His gaze slid toward him, narrowing slightly—but instead of reacting, he exhaled quietly and turned away, walking toward the hall.
Anthur followed, one hand clamped over his mouth, failing miserably to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside him.
Ren sat down on the sofa, leaning back with a controlled sigh.
Across from him, Anthur dropped into his seat. He bent forward slightly—then finally broke.
"Hey, idiot, what's so funny?" Ren muttered, his brow twitching.
Anthur lost it.
"Hahaha—your face! When she said 'Mrs. Sherlyn'—I can't—" he laughed, clutching his stomach.
Ren clicked his tongue, irritation flickering across his face.
"Haa… what's so funny about that?"
"Your reaction," Anthur shot back between laughs. "You looked completely defeated."
Ren looked away, choosing not to respond.
Just then, footsteps approached.
A man entered the hall, his presence calm yet firm enough to draw attention.
"Oh? You two seem to be enjoying yourselves," he said with a faint smile. "Mind telling me what's so funny?"
Ren didn't bother turning fully toward him.
"He laughs for no reason. Just ignore him."
The man chuckled softly and took a seat.
"It seems the food will take a while. Shall we have a small conversation in the meantime?"
Anthur quickly composed himself, straightening up as he looked at the man.
"First of all," the man continued, "it feels a bit awkward calling you 'you two.' Could you tell me your names?"
He paused briefly, then added,
"I'm Jordon. And my wife is Sherlyn."
Ren leaned forward slightly.
"I'm Ren. And this is Anthur."
Jordon nodded thoughtfully.
"Hmm… Anthur and Ren."
His gaze sharpened just a little.
"Now then… could you tell me the purpose of your journey?"
Ren opened his mouth to answer—
"That—"
Anthur raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
Ren paused, then leaned back, crossing his arms as he let Anthur take over.
"Motive, you say…" Anthur began, leaning forward slightly. "I wouldn't call it that exactly. But there are three things we want to do."
Jordon smirked faintly, listening in silence.
"First," Anthur said, his voice steady, "we want to travel across the world… and make our names known in every corner of it."
"Second… I want to become the strongest person in the world."
Jordon's expression didn't change—but his attention sharpened.
Anthur's eyes gleamed faintly.
"And finally…" he continued, his tone turning serious, "we're going to gather a team… and start a revolution."
Jordon's smirk faded.
The room grew quieter.
Anthur leaned back slightly, finishing without hesitation—
"We'll defeat the emperor of the world… and place a new one on the throne."
Silence fell.
Jordon blinked once, as if making sure he heard correctly.
"…Let me be clear," he said slowly. "Did you just say… you intend to defeat the emperor of the world?"
Anthur smiled—and nodded.
Jordon's gaze shifted to Ren.
Ren closed his eyes briefly, took a quiet breath… then gave a small, confirming nod.
Jordon lowered his head, running both hands through his hair in frustration.
"Do you really think it's easy… to defeat the emperor of the world?"
Anthur frowned, confused.
"What?"
Jordon lifted his head and looked straight at him, his expression now serious.
"What do you mean 'what'? Listen carefully."
He leaned back slightly, his voice turning heavier.
"Before this… my wife and I were soldiers in the Kingdom of Gan. Because of that, we heard things—rumours about the emperors."
His gaze hardened.
"They're said to be immortal. Not even powerful mana users can bring them down. And even facing one of their generals is considered extremely dangerous."
The room grew quieter.
Jordon's expression softened—but only slightly.
"My son… made the same mistake you two are making now," he continued. "He said he wanted to join a group… that they were going to defeat the emperor."
He paused, his hands tightening.
"I tried to stop him. But he left anyway."
A brief silence followed.
"We don't know where he is now… but we choose to believe he's still safe."
He looked directly at them again, his tone firm—almost pleading.
"So, I'm warning you… please listen to me. Trying to take down even one emperor… is an impossible task."
After hearing that, Anthur and Ren exchanged a glance.
Then they looked back at Jordon.
Anthur smiled.
"Don't worry about us," he said calmly. "We've already planned what we're going to do."
Jordon let out a tired breath, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
From the dining hall, the soft clatter of plates could be heard as Sherlyn finished setting the table. The aroma of freshly prepared food drifted in, warm and inviting.
Jordon spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.
"I think dinner's ready… come on, let's eat."
He pushed himself up and walked toward the dining hall.
Anthur immediately stood up, a bright, cheerful smile spreading across his face as he followed after him.
A moment later, Ren rose as well, his movements calm and composed, and headed toward the dining hall behind them.
They took their seats at the dining table, the dishes laid out before them.
"Let's eat."