I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 702: The variable

A servant appeared briefly at the hall door, read the room in one glance, and disappeared again without entering.

It was Vanessa who broke it.

"Kraven," she said.

Her voice had recovered most of its composure. Most.

"You have truly reached the Arch Mage realm."

She paused.

"If the King were to know of this—"

She stopped mid-sentence, as if she had only just realized the full implication of what she was about to say. After a brief pause, she chose not to continue. Instead, she shifted the conversation smoothly, redirecting it away from the thought she had almost voiced.

"Anyway," she said, with a composure that was fully reassembled now. "You are very surprising. You have always been surprising, but this is—" She gestured slightly. "This is something else."

Even though she had stopped herself from continuing, the meaning had already reached the table before she stopped speaking.

Everyone present understood what the unfinished sentence contained.

If the King were to know of this, the entire arrangement changes.

Liam’s hands were on the table, resting flat on the surface, and his knuckles had whitened slightly. His face held its composure completely but the hands told their own story.

Louisa’s fist was clenched tightly, the knuckles pale against her skin. Her gaze was fixed on a point on the tablecloth between herself and Kraven, her expression distant and lost, as though she were rapidly working through implications and finding none of them particularly reassuring.

Julian looked at them and said nothing.

He understood what had just unraveled.

The plan had been simple in its original form. The Duke and Liam, regardless of the exact nature of their agreement and whatever hostility ran beneath it, had agreed on one central point for the King’s visit—the Duke would present Marcus as the official heir.

Inside the family, Kraven had already been pushed aside. He was considered unsuitable for the role. He was seen as someone who did not take cultivation seriously and who behaved in ways that were not stable or predictable.

Because of this, he had been treated as a son who could not be trusted with the future of the duchy, and so he had been removed from the line of succession for the sake of the family’s stability and reputation.

The King had no outside knowledge that would challenge this view. Kraven’s exile had been handled quietly and carefully, and nothing about his life in Ezakael had reached the royal court.

From the King’s perspective, the situation was clear and unchanged: the Astran family had changed its succession for proper and reasonable reasons, and Marcus was now the accepted and rightful heir.

The purpose of the King’s visit was to officially confirm that arrangement and make it final.

Liam needed Marcus recognized as heir because Marcus was Liam’s son and an acknowledged heir meant Liam’s bloodline held the duchy’s future regardless of what happened to the current duke.

The Duke had agreed to it — under pressure, under blackmail, but agreed — because the alternative was worse.

It was a workable plan.

And then Kraven had come back from Ezakael at Arch Mage cultivation. He had burned a soldier alive in the main corridor. He had spoken to the Duke’s commander in a way that showed political understanding neither of them had expected. And now, in front of the entire family, he had made it clear that the idea of him being an unserious or unsuitable heir would be very hard to maintain in front of a King who actually understood what cultivation meant.

A person who was close to becoming a Grand Mage could not be dismissed just because he seemed unfocused.

A cultivator who had already reached Arch Mage at an age when most people were still struggling through the lower ranks could not simply be replaced by a Supreme Mage nephew without raising serious questions from the King.

The variable did not just appear.

It sat down at the breakfast table and ate their carefully constructed plan from the inside.

"Let’s eat," Julian said.

He reached forward and began placing bread and meat from the center of the table onto his plate. He ate without looking at anyone in particular, his posture completely relaxed.

For a moment nobody moved.

Then Louisa reached for the bread.

Then Marcus.

Then the rest of the table followed, one by one.

The meal continued.

It was quiet but not suffocating. Louisa said something to Marcus about the food. The Duke refilled his cup. Liam ate with the same composed ease.

After about 5 minute, Julian finished his plate.

He set his utensils down, pushed his chair back, and stood. He looked around the table and bowed his head to everyone.

"I’ll take my leave," he said simply.

He walked to the hall door, opened it, and stepped through.

He didn’t look back.

But he felt it — the weight of every gaze in the room following him across the floor.

The corridor outside was quiet.

Julian stood in it for a moment and took a slow, deep breath.

That was dangerous, he told himself.

Kraven’s patterns tested his limits throughout the entire breakfast. The empty chair where Olivia should have been sat, the way Vanessa’s attention kept returning to him, and the constant pressure of being observed all created a physical reaction in the body that Julian had to work hard to suppress.

He was physically exhausted from everything that had happened.

He walked through the corridor without acknowledging anyone he passed, his attention fixed forward and distant.

When he reached his room, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He did not remove his coat or pause to think. He did not consider Liam, Louisa, the King, or the Servant of Death.

None of it mattered in that moment.

He moved only far enough to reach the bed, then let himself fall onto it without hesitation.

His eyes closed even before his head had fully settled against the pillow. There was no resistance left in him.

Sleep took him immediately.