The argument between Fenrir and Fredric reached a boiling point.
The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the two of them standing on opposite sides of a rift that had widened with every word spoken.
Fredric's frustration was palpable, his voice raised in anger, and Fenrir was no better, his own emotions flaring.
But then, amidst the heated exchange, something shifted in Fenrir.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and consciously calmed his mind.
The argument was going nowhere, and he knew it was time to take control of the situation.
With a subtle but deliberate movement, Fenrir focused his mana.
His power, while not as vast as Fredric's, was finely honed and controlled. The air in the room grew heavy as Fenrir manipulated his mana pressure, pushing it outward.
Fredric's expression faltered for a moment as he felt the weight of Fenrir's power, his body involuntarily stiffening.
The younger man's control over his mana was far more refined than Fredric had anticipated, and for a moment, he was forced to listen, the argument grinding to a halt.
Fredric's eyes widened as he looked at Fenrir, finally noticing the strength in his younger brother's presence.
For a brief moment, he seemed lost for words, his irritation replaced by genuine surprise.
"What... how are you doing this?"
Fredric asked, his tone softer now, a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.
Fenrir, his mana pressure still holding the room in an oppressive silence, took a step back and allowed Fredric to regain his composure.
"I've been training for a long time. I'm not the same person you think I am. I have awakened and I can take care of myself."
Fenrir said, his voice steady.
Fredric's brows furrowed in confusion, still trying to process the situation.
But Fenrir wasn't interested in wasting time. He dropped his control over the mana pressure, the room returning to normal as Fredric exhaled in relief.
Fenrir took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.
"Look. This argument is pointless. You've made your point, and I've made mine. But since I like you—at least to some extent—I'll tell you something that I've been keeping secret.""
Fenrir began, his tone calmer now.
Fredric looked at Fenrir skeptically.
"What are you talking about?"
Fenrir reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial, its contents shimmering faintly. Fredric's eyes narrowed.
"What is that?"
Fenrir didn't respond immediately.
He tossed the vial up and down in his hand a few times before handing it over to Fredric.
"This is a strength potion. The same kind of potion that had been appearing on the market recently under the mysterious name of 'X'"
Fenrir explained calmly.
Fredric's eyes went wide as he stared at the vial.
"That... That's—"
Fredric trailed off, his mind racing.
The strength potions had been a hot commodity on the black market, and no one had been able to identify the person behind their production.
The entire operation was shrouded in mystery. To see a vial of it in Fenrir's hand was... impossible.
He had no way of getting his hands on one of those potions. Or so Fredric thought.
"Where did you get this?"
Fredric demanded, his voice low and tense, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation.
Fenrir smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was knowing, almost predatory.
"You should know by now that I'm not a fool. I'm the one making them. I'm 'X'."
Fredric's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, his face turned pale. The potion in his hand felt heavier than ever.
"You...? You're the one behind all of this?"
His voice shook with disbelief.
Fenrir nodded.
"That's right. All these potions you've seen flooding the market? They're mine."
Fredric stood there for a long moment, his mind reeling.
A thousand questions ran through his head, but they all seemed irrelevant in the face of what Fenrir had just revealed.
"When did you awaken your talent?"
He asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Fenrir crossed his arms, his expression unchanging.
"It's been some time now. And yes, I can take care of myself, Fredric. You don't need to worry."
Fredric seemed to deflate slightly, his anger giving way to something else—concern, perhaps, but also something deeper, something almost like regret.
"I should have known. You always were too clever for your own good."
he muttered under his breath.
Fenrir watched him carefully, his gaze sharp.
"So now you believe I can handle myself?"
Fredric sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead.
"It's not that simple. You're still young, and you don't understand the dangers you're putting yourself in. You think these potions are just going to protect you? You're playing with fire."
Fenrir clenched his jaw, unwilling to back down.
"I'm not a child anymore, Fredric. I don't need your protection. I'm doing this on my own terms."
Fredric looked at Fenrir, a mix of frustration and something else in his eyes.
Finally, after a long pause, he spoke.
"You're banned from going out. From now on, you'll have a security detail. I won't let you jeopardize your life like this."
Fenrir felt a flash of irritation surge within him, but he held it in check.
"You can try. But I'm not going to let you control my life."
He said coolly.
Fredric's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
The conversation had reached an impasse, and neither of them was willing to budge. Fenrir turned to leave, but Fredric's voice stopped him.
Fredric watched Fenrir leave the room, his mind racing with the implications of their conversation.
Fenrir's defiant attitude made it clear that trying to control him would be a futile endeavor. Fredric's grip on his desk tightened, frustration mounting.
His younger brother was no longer the child he remembered—he was a force to be reckoned with.
Realizing that he couldn't control Fenrir by force, Fredric's mind began to work through a compromise.
After a moment of silent contemplation, he made a decision.
He would protect Fenrir's secret identity as 'X' and his potions.
It wasn't the ideal solution, but it was the only way to ensure his safety while keeping his talents within the family's reach.
When Fenrir returned, Fredric laid out the offer.
"Listen, I can't control you, and I won't try. But I can protect you and your identity as 'X.' In return, I need you to prioritize my guild when making potions and supplies. We can work together, and you won't have to worry about people coming after you."
Fenrir listened, his expression unreadable. After a pause, he gave a small shrug.
"I don't care who buys my potions, as long as I make a profit. That's the deal. Keep your guild out of my way, and we'll work something out."
Fredric nodded, relieved that they had reached some form of understanding.
"Agreed."
Fenrir turned to leave without a second glance.
"I'll be in touch."
As he left, Fredric let out a slow breath. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was a start.
The tension between them hadn't disappeared, but for the first time in a long while, Fredric felt a glimmer of hope that they could find a way forward.