Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner - Chapter 100

Chapter 100: The truth about your parents Chapter 100: The truth about your parents The party continued inside though, no one having the slightest idea what just happened outside.

The music swelled, and Kelvin spun Cora around in an easy rhythm.

The gala floor shimmered with lights, elegance filling the air.

Everything was smooth-until it wasn’t.

A suited man, gliding through the dance floor, suddenly bumped into Kelvin’s shoulder with a bit too much force to be an accident.

“Oops,” the man said, smiling like a casual stranger.

“Didn’t see you there.” Kelvin’s jaw clenched.

Bullshit.

He recognized that voice before he even turned his head.

Before he could react, Cora did.

“Mr.

Pithon!” She practically lunged at the man, grabbing his arm with both hands.

“Hey, hey, do you have any of your latest weapon designs on you?

A level 3-no, wait, a level 5 beast weapon.

The academy’s armory is atrocious.

No offense, but total offense.” Web Pithon, the arms tycoon, let out a deep, amused chuckle.

“And what would a Year One like you need with something like that?” Kelvin sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Cora.” Cora glanced at him.

“Please excuse us for a second.” She let go reluctantly.

“Fine.

But, Mr.

Web, don’t forget my request!” Web only laughed again as Kelvin grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the crowd.

They stepped outside onto the private terrace, the night air crisp against their suits.

Web was still chuckling.

Kelvin, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to strangle someone.

“Dad,” he said, flatly.

Web grinned.

“Son.” Kelvin inhaled sharply, forcing himself to remain composed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His father adjusted the cufflinks on his tailored suit, voice shifting into something smoother-something calculated.

“I saw the invite as an opportunity,” Web said, “to see my only son.

Correction-only child.

Who ran off and joined the military to spite me, when his rightful place was right next to me, running the empire his great-grandfather started, his grandfather built, and I’ve taken to new heights.” His usual charm was gone now.

The weight of the words settled in.

“You know I could have wavered the call up.

Make it seem like you were never called up?

Yet you close to run off,” Kelvin let the silence hang before he let out a humorless chuckle.

“First of all, I didn’t run.

I left.” Web’s brows lifted slightly.

“I left to find a path that was mine.

Not some preordained legacy.

Mine.” Kelvin’s voice sharpened.

“Secondly, this-” he gestured back toward the grand hall, toward the academy insignia pinned on one of the banners, “-this is what helping humanity actually looks like.

Not selling weapons to the military, to whoever waves the highest stack of credits, while humanity faces an existential threat.” Web’s lips curled slightly, amusement flickering over his face.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crisp handkerchief and dabbing at his forehead before stuffing it back.

“Everything,” he said coolly, “everything you could possibly need in life has already been handed to you.

And you’re throwing it all away.” Kelvin’s eyes darkened.

He took a slow step forward.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he said, voice like steel.

“Maybe I didn’t want any of it.” Web’s smile faded.

A long pause.

Then, with a disappointed sigh, he muttered, “I’m not sure your mother-Melda-would be proud to see how her son is turning into a tyrant.

You know she always was the one sending the ideas into your head about choices and freedom and living life to the fullest.

That’s what got her killed,” Kelvin went rigid.

His teeth clenched.

His hand curled into a slow, dangerous fist.

And then, without a word, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

His father was slightly taller, but that didn’t matter.

Kelvin reached out, gripping the lapels of Web’s pristine suit-not roughly, but with enough weight to send a message.

With careful precision, he smoothed them back into place, his movements slow, deliberate.

Then, his voice dropped to a deadly whisper.

“Don’t you ever,” he said, each word measured, “talk about my mother like that.” A final adjustment to the lapel.

Then, he let go.

“I’m never going to be like you.

Confident, smart, the people’s person.

Hell, even be an S ranked technopath like you.

I’m just me, kelvin.

Sadly, with a mutual last name,” Straightening, he exhaled and took a step back.

“You’re free to leave for your next appointment whenever you feel like it,” he said, tone light but distant.

“I’m going back to the party.” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked off.

Leaving Web Pithon standing alone in the night air, watching his son disappear into the gathering crowd.

Kelvin on the other hand re-entered the gala with a smile plastered on his face, located Cora quickly and continued with the dancing.

The night was pretty much still young for most people.

Noah moved with Sophie, the two of them swaying to the rhythm of the gala’s slow, melodic tune.

Yet, even as he danced, he felt the weight of Minister Reign’s gaze pressing down on him.

Sophie’s father was engaged in conversation with dignitaries, but every so often, his eyes flickered toward Noah, as if measuring him against some invisible standard.

Noah did his best to ignore it, focusing instead on the girl in front of him.

Sophie, ever radiant, twirled gracefully under his lead, her smile effortless, her laughter soft.

Then, a gentle tug on his suit.

Noah turned and found himself face-to-face with Mrs.

Harper.

She was smiling at him, that familiar, knowing expression that had comforted him through childhood and followed him into adulthood.

“Well, well,” she mused, eyes twinkling.

“When were you planning to introduce the pretty girl to me?” Heat crept up Noah’s neck.

“Mrs.

Harper-” Sophie, however, was unfazed.

She smiled warmly and dipped her head in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure, ma’am.” Despite knowing Mrs.

Harper’s role as a cleaner in the academy, Sophie still spoke with genuine respect.

Everyone knew Mrs.

Harper wasn’t just a simple worker-she was Noah’s de facto mother, the one who had stayed when his real parents had left.

Mrs.

Harper chuckled.

“Oh, you’ve got manners.

I like her, Noah.” Noah groaned.

“Mrs.

Harper, please.” She waved a hand before reaching for his arm.

“Come along, dear.

I need to borrow you for just a minute.” His brows furrowed.

“For what?” “Just come,” she said, smiling but firm.

“You’ll see.” Sophie let go of his hand and winked.

“I’ll be with the girls if you need me.” Before he could protest further, Mrs.

Harper was already leading him away, her grip surprisingly strong.

Noah sighed, letting himself be dragged through the hall, past clusters of elegantly dressed guests, past the grand chandeliers that shimmered above them.

His curiosity gnawed at him.

Mrs.

Harper was never one for dramatic surprises-what was so urgent that she had to pull him from the gala?

Once they stepped outside, away from the music and the murmuring crowd, she finally stopped.

Noah turned to her, expectant.

“Okay, what’s this about?” Mrs.

Harper’s expression softened into something almost reverent.

A flicker of unspoken joy gleamed in her eyes.

Then she stepped aside, revealing a man in a pristine suit, standing tall under the moonlit sky.

“Noah,” Mrs.

Harper said, her voice filled with meaning.

“This man is from the Ark.” Noah stiffened.

“The Ark?” His throat felt tight.

Mrs.

Harper nodded, watching his face carefully.

“There’s something he would like to share with you… about your parents.”