John sighed, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. "Since you clearly don't know, let me explain. Legendary-tier beasts are equivalent to Class 8 entities—the present pinnacle of power in the world. As of now, no known being has surpassed that level."

  Mico, despite his earlier protests, seemed mildly interested. "And what exactly makes Class 8 the peak?"

  John nodded, pleased by the question. "Beasts and humans alike, no matter their strength, all fall into classification tiers. The strongest recorded existences—whether summoners, warriors, or beasts—are at Class 8. No human has contracted a beast stronger than that, nor has any wild beast surpassed it."

  "Yet," Mia added, a subtle emphasis in her tone.

  John inclined his head in agreement. "Yes. There were Class 9 beings, the true pinnacle of Senar, in existence before, but this was before the Human-beast war. After they all died during and shortly after the war, it has never been recorded."

  "Why?" Mico asked, tilting his head.

  John's eyes darkened slightly. "Internal conflicts. Anyone who can break through the barrier and reach that level would automatically rule the world. I am sure you can deduce the remaining from there."

  The table went silent for a moment, but then Arth, glancing at Zarn, stifled a chuckle.

  Zarn, despite sitting through what was apparently an important discussion, had a faraway look in his eyes. He idly poked at the last piece of meat on his plate, only half-listening.

  Arth smirked and leaned over. "You didn't catch a word of that, did you?"

  Zarn blinked, dragging his gaze back to the present. "…Some of it?"

  Arth laughed. "Yeah, I figured." He stretched, resting his arms behind his head. "Alright, let's move on to something you might actually care about."

  Zarn raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

  "Well…" Arth turned to John and Mia. "Since he's officially a Rudrug now, are we holding a welcome party?"

  Zarn immediately frowned. "A what?"

  Mia smiled knowingly. "It's customary for noble families to host a gathering when they adopt someone into their house. Usually, it's a chance to boast about the child, show off their skills, and make connections with other noble families."

  Zarn's frown deepened. "That sounds awful."

  Arth grinned. "Normally, yeah. But since you've been adopted into the main family line as a direct heir, we don't have to go through all that 'boasting.'"

  Zarn sighed in relief. "Good."

  John, however, cleared his throat. "But—"

  Zarn tensed. "But?"

  "We still have to hold a formal welcome banquet," Mia finished. "Not for boasting—just to give you honor and officially present you as part of the family."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Zarn groaned, dropping his head against the table. "That's the same thing with extra steps."

  Arth patted his back sympathetically. "Don't worry, big bro. At least you don't have to do much. Just show up, look cool, and try not to fall asleep halfway through."

  Mico let out a low chuckle. "That last part might be impossible."

  Zarn shot him a glare.

  John chuckled as well, but his voice held a note of finality. "Regardless of how you feel about it, it's important. It's not just about tradition—it's a way to let the world know that you have a place here. That you belong."

  Zarn stilled slightly at that.

  "…Fine," he muttered. "But I'm not wearing anything ridiculous."

  Mia smiled warmly. "We'll see."

  Arth grinned. "Ooooh, that means yes."

  Zarn groaned again.

  Mico, beside him, just shook his head in amusement.

  Mico flicked his tail, his blue flames dimming slightly as he turned his gaze to John. "Hmm, I'm surprised," he said, his voice carrying a rare note of curiosity. "I expected you to lecture Zarn about the Rudrug family—its history, its legacy, your specialties. Isn't that what noble families usually do?"

  John leaned back slightly, his expression calm. "That would be the norm, yes. Many noble families drill their heritage into their children the moment they can understand words."

  He glanced at Zarn, who had already lost interest and was back to poking his food. "But our family doesn't put much importance on those things. Unlike others, we don't demand our heirs memorize every detail of their bloodline or obsess over legacy."

  Mico's ears twitched. "Why?"

  John smirked. "Because Zarn's not going anywhere. He's Rudrug now, and he'll learn what he needs to know over time. There's no rush."

  Mia set her teacup down, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides," she added smoothly, "Zarn isn't interested in politics. Which means he has nothing to do with it." She turned her gaze toward her husband, her smile just a little too sweet. "Or else."

  John let out a light chuckle, raising his hands in surrender. "Yes, dear. Loud and clear."

  Arth leaned closer to Zarn, whispering, "Translation: If you ever get dragged into noble politics, Mom will personally make sure you regret it."

  Zarn raised an eyebrow. "That sounds… oddly reassuring."

  "Right?"

  Mico let out a short huff of amusement. "So, you're saying Zarn has no responsibilities?"

  John shrugged. "No heavy ones. The Rudrug family is one of the strongest noble houses, but we don't deal in unnecessary power struggles. We specialize in beast and Senar research, their cultivation is also in the list, politics however, is a no."

  Mia nodded. "That's why our status is so stable. We supply the world with knowledge, rare breeds, and improved training methods. No one can afford to make enemies of us, and we have no interest in making enemies either."

  Mico hummed in understanding. "So you stay powerful by making yourselves too useful to be targeted."

  "Precisely," John confirmed.

  Zarn listened in silence, twirling his fork between his fingers. No forced politics. No pointless history lessons. No suffocating responsibilities.

  He could live with that. More than enough time to get those beast cores...

  "Good talk. Delicious meal. Thank you, dear parents of mine," he finally said, standing up. "Can I go now?"

  Mia sighed, but she was smiling. "Fine. But expect a fitting for your banquet outfit later."

  Zarn groaned. "I knew it."

  Arth grinned. "I'll make sure they pick something extra fancy for you."

  Mico smirked. "I second that."

  Zarn shot them both a glare before turning to leave, Mico following at his side, his blue flames flickering mischievously.

  John watched them go, shaking his head in amusement. "He's going to fit in just fine."

  Mia smiled. "Of course. He already has."