Derek sat on the mansion's balcony, Excalibur resting across his lap. The weight of the dream still lingered in his mind.
He needed to tell someone.
And so, he found Anna.
Anna was, as usual, buried in a book inside the mansion's small library, away from the chaos of the others.
When Derek entered, she closed her book carefully and looked at him with an expression of genuine curiosity. Derek rarely came here. If he did, it meant something serious.
Without hesitation, he told her everything—the dream, Arthur, the truth about Excalibur.
Anna listened in silence. When he was done, she studied him for a moment.
Then she smirked.
"Now you really look like the bloodline of Drago."
Derek's expression darkened at the name.
"As I thought, you know…But that's the past," he muttered.
Anna didn't argue. But her gaze lingered on him as if she wanted to say more.
With that, Derek left. He didn't want to dwell on the past. Right now, he had training to do.
Jim, meanwhile, was finally out of the room. He had spent the last few days resting, and while his body had recovered…
His pride had not.
As usual, the mansion was filled with utter chaos.
Bob was counting money loudly, Bam was testing his newfound mana strength, and Marcus was messing with another explosive crossbow modification.
Jim sat at the corner, unusually quiet.
More than that—his usual bottle of alcohol was nowhere in sight.
That was what truly made the others notice.
Jim not drinking was unheard of.
Derek observed him carefully.
Jim wasn't one to sulk, but after the dragon battle… he looked different.
Like something had shifted inside him.
Until now, Jim had always thought he was decent enough. He had fought many battles, survived countless fights. He knew his own strength.
Or so he thought.
The dragon had proven otherwise.
Then, one morning, Jim packed his things.
The group stared at him in confusion.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bam asked, arms crossed.
Jim slung his bag over his shoulder. "I need a break," he said simply. "I'll be back."
Bob frowned. "You sure you're not just running away because you got your ass kicked?"
Jim didn't even argue. He just let out a deep breath.
"Maybe I am," he admitted. "But I'm not coming back weak."
Bam nodded, "I guess this is your training arc."
And with that, Jim walked out the door—leaving the party stunned.