My Soul card is a Reaper

Vesyrn's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at his son.

He asked again, this time with more certainty. "How do you know Flora?"

Azzy's gaze lingered on the framed photo before he set it gently back on the table.

"It's a long story," he murmured. "Another one for another day."

Then, his tone hardened with purpose. "Let's get to the real reason I'm here, Dad."

Vesyrn straightened. "I had a feeling this wasn't just a friendly visit after your return."

Azzy met his father's eyes and said. "I want you to return."

Vesyrn blinked, shaking his head. "I can't."

"You can."

"I can't, son," Vesyrn said again, firmer this time. "I don't have the guts to face Izora or my clan members again. Not after what I did to her. You saw what it did to her. If she goes crazy again… I…"

Azzy's voice was calm and unwavering as he replied. "You made a deal with the Reaper, Dad. You swore to become the guardian of our clan. You can't walk away from that, now that there is no guardian. As for mom, I have already taken care of her issue. However, I can't stop her from getting angry, though. You have to pay for what you did."

"But, I…"

"This is not a request from a son to the father. This is an order from the Monarch to Vesyrn Garcia. Do you still disobey?" Azzy's voice turned serious, and the weight of his words instantly silenced the room.

Vesyrn slumped slightly, defeated by both duty and guilt. He went to one knee and placed his fist on his chest, "If it's an order from the Monarch, then this servant of the clan will obey."

But then, after a pause, something clicked in his head and he added, "What about Fiona?"

Azzy looked at him and shrugged. "Naturally, she will return. She is the descendant of the clan."

Vesyrn's shoulders tensed at those words. "And what about Izora? She won't accept her."

Azzy sighed, standing and looking toward the clinic window where sunlight filtered in. "As I have said earlier, you pay for what you did. We can't run from their consequences. I'll do what I can… but the rest? That's between you and her."

Then he looked at Vesyrn, serious now. "And I also promised Mom that I will keep you away from our family. So, Fiona and you will return to the clan, not to our family. Whether your return to family depends on yourselves. But I sincerely hope that our family becomes one. I will try to provide you opportunities, but you have to be the one who does it, Dad."

Vesyrn lowered his head and nodded slowly. "Understood…"

"I just hope Fiona understands," he added after a pause, his voice softer now. "She resents the clan even more."

"I'll talk to her myself," Azzy said. "Since I'm the clan head, it is my duty to remind her of the duties of the clan too, and let her decide herself."

After a while, leaving Orion with Vesyrn, Azzy left with Affea. Their destination is the Arvandor Academy of Arcana.

Inside the prestigious Arvandor Academy, the atmosphere was serene with flawless marble floors, enchanted windows that filtered sunlight perfectly, and rows of ancient oak desks lining the grand classrooms.

In Class 1A, at the very front, sat a girl who looked like she belonged to another world.

With flowing platinum hair and glacial blue eyes, she looked out of the place amidst the individuals who had brown, black, and blonde hair, making one wonder whether she dyed her hair or something.

She sat alone, a classic literature textbook open on her desk, annotated neatly in ink.

No one sat beside her. No one spoke to her.

It had been this way since her middle school years. Now, she was a high school freshman, and the situation remained the same.

They didn't hate her. But they didn't understand her either.

She was too quiet. Too distant to make any friends. Too talented compared to even the best of geniuses. Stronger than even the instructors. She is too much like a ghost of someone no one could place.

As she scribbled notes on the fall of tragic heroes from the 7th Epoch, a sharp knock interrupted the class.

The door opened, and the classroom attendant stepped in.

"Fiona Garcia?"

Fiona raised her eyes, surprised. "Yes?"

"You've got visitors. They're waiting at the principal's office."

The entire classroom turned its heads subtly.

Fiona frowned. "Visitors? I don't have any relatives, though. Who could meet me?"

Fiona capped her pen with practiced ease, slipped it into her case, and stood.

As she exited the classroom, the murmurs began to slither like serpents through the desks behind her.

"Tch… Principal's playing favorites again," one boy muttered under his breath.

"Seriously," a girl added. "If my aunt came to visit, I would have to wait till lunch. And she is a minister, for god's sake."

"Well, what do you expect?" someone whispered. "She's practically royalty in this school. She reached the semifinals at the World Youth Championships."

"Hmpf… she's just a bully."

Fiona walked on, unfazed, her eyes forward and her posture unshaken. But the comments didn't go unheard. It is just that she doesn't care about them.

Soon, she arrived at the Principal's Office, a spacious chamber etched with hanging scrolls of prestige. A waiting area with floating crystal lights gave the room a regal ambiance.

She stepped inside and immediately spotted Affea, standing tall in her dark robes.

"Affea!" Fiona beamed with rare joy and rushed to embrace her.

Affea returned the hug without hesitation, gently brushing a hand over Fiona's head. "It's been a while, sis."

Fiona stepped back, her eyes glowing softly. "Yeah, it has been. It's been like 4 months, isn't it? But then again, you were forced to become the acting monarch of the clan by that demonic brother of yours. You rarely get time to get out of that cursed land anyway."

*Ahem*

A cough diverted her attention. She turned to the tall figure standing beside Affea, the one she didn't recognize.

She blinked once. "And… who's this?"

"The demonic brother," Azzy replied calmly.

"Eh?" Fiona was taken aback. Affea playfully slapped Azzy's shoulder. "C'mon, Chuckie… don't take her words seriously…" She looked back at Fiona. "This is our elder brother, Azrael Garcia."

"Ah… Yes…" Fiona became slightly awkward. "Hello." She gave a nod.

Azzy didn't respond to her and instead turned his head to the side. "Leave us."

The principal, who had been standing attentively to the side, immediately bowed.

"Yes, of course, Saint Garcia," he said with a respectful smile and exited the room without protest.

Fiona's brows furrowed slightly. The principal, a Supreme realm cultivator who answered to no one but the board of elders, had obeyed without a word. Moreover, that title? Saint?

People use Venerable for a Supreme realm. But, she never heard a Saint prefix for any soul realm, and Azzy doesn't seem like he is a real Sage either.

Forgetting the title, the fact that Azzy could command him in such a way made her wonder who in the world the man was. She thought, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Once the principal left the room, Azzy took a slow step forward, stretching his hand. "Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Azrael Crescent Garcia," he said. "The current Clan Monarch of Death. Vesyrn Garcia's eldest son and your half-brother. Nice to meet you, Fiona."