Chapter 50: Family 1
Nova pushed open the front door, the familiar creak of hinges announcing his arrival. The warm scent of home-cooked food filled the air — Aunt Mira’s signature stew, if his nose wasn’t mistaken.
"I’m home!" he called out, closing the door behind him with his foot while carefully balancing the expensive packages in his arms.
"Nova!" Lyanna’s voice came from the living room, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. She appeared in the hallway, her shoulder-length brown hair tied in a messy ponytail. "You’re late! Aunt Mira was about to send—"
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she noticed the elegantly wrapped packages he carried. The preservation formations on them glowed faintly with frost-blue energy — a clear indicator these weren’t ordinary groceries.
"What are those?" Lyanna asked, her voice dropping to an awed whisper.
"Dinner ingredients," Nova said casually, walking past her toward the kitchen. "Is everyone home?"
"Y-yes..." Lyanna followed him like a curious puppy, her eyes never leaving the packages. "Even Uncle Thorne came back today. He’s on leave for three days."
Perfect timing.
Nova stepped into the kitchen and stopped.
His father was standing at the kitchen window with a cup of tea, looking out at the darkening street. Thorne Stern. Forty-two years old, still carrying a powerful physique — broad shoulders and corded muscle visible beneath his casual home clothes. He stood with his weight balanced and his eyes scanning the glass, his body refusing to fully relax even in the safety of his own home.
His light golden eyes — identical to Nova’s — moved from the window to his son the moment Nova entered the room.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
The last time Nova had seen his father in person had been eight months ago. Eight months of short messages that said things like survived another day and used emoticons learned from young soldiers, written to mask pain behind cheerful punctuation.
He looked at his father’s face now and noticed what messages couldn’t convey: the new scar along the left jaw, the way the right shoulder sat fractionally lower than the left from a lingering injury, and the deep, heavy weariness etched into the corners of his eyes.
"You’re taller," Thorne said.
"It keeps happening," Nova said.
His father set down the tea, crossed the kitchen in four quick steps, and pulled him into a sudden, tight embrace. Nova felt the strength behind it and felt also the way his father’s hand clapped him once firmly on the back, letting the physical contact say what he couldn’t put into words.
When Thorne pulled back he looked at his son’s face for a long moment, his golden eyes methodically scanning Nova’s features for any sign of harm.
"You look different," Thorne said.
"Training," Nova said.
His father’s eyes moved to the packages Nova was carrying. Then back to his son’s face. He watched Nova silently, his mind working through the possibilities but reaching no conclusion yet.
"Put the bags down and sit," Thorne said. "I want to hear about the awakening ceremony. The real version, not the one in the official report."
Before Nova could respond, Aunt Mira turned from the stove and registered the packages for the first time.
"There you are! I was beginning to worry—" Her words cut off. Her smile faltered. "Vaelor... what are those? Those preservation formations — those are hunter-grade containers!"
"Ingredients," Nova said, setting the packages on the kitchen counter. "Premium quality. I thought we could have something special tonight."
Aunt Mira approached cautiously, as if the packages might explode. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the nearest one. "Where did you get these? These containers alone cost more than our weekly grocery budget!"
"Just open them," he encouraged gently.
With visible hesitation, Aunt Mira untied the preservation cloth wrapping the first package. The formation deactivated with a soft chime. She pulled back the fabric.
"AAAHHHHH!"
Her scream echoed through the entire house, so sudden and sharp that Nova actually flinched.
"WHAT?! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Uncle Torven’s panicked shout came from upstairs, followed by thundering footsteps as multiple people rushed toward the kitchen.
Within seconds the small kitchen was crowded. Uncle Torven — a stocky man with graying hair and a perpetual worried expression — burst through the doorway first, looking around wildly for danger. Lyanna squeezed past him, her curiosity overriding any sense of danger.
Thorne, who had not moved from his position near the window, simply watched Mira with calm, narrowed eyes. He stood perfectly still, processing the scene before making a move.
"Mira, what’s wrong?!" Uncle Torven demanded, moving to his wife’s side.
Aunt Mira stood frozen, staring at the partially unwrapped package with an expression of absolute horror. Her face had gone pale. She seemed incapable of speech beyond pointing at the revealed contents.
Thorne approached slowly. When he saw what lay in the package his expression shifted from calm observation to genuine shock.
"That’s Crimson Phoenix Chicken," he said quietly.
Uncle Torven looked. His eyes bulged. "By the gods."
Lyanna, being the shortest, couldn’t see clearly. She pushed between the adults, rose on her tiptoes, and when she finally glimpsed the contents her mouth fell open. A thin line of drool actually formed at the corner of her lips.
"Is that real?" she breathed, staring at the meat with wide-eyed reverence.
The Crimson Phoenix Chicken pieces glowed with a faint reddish-gold luminescence, each perfectly cut portion radiating concentrated life energy. Even without any cultivation sensitivity, everyone in the kitchen could feel the vitality emanating from the meat.
"Nova," Thorne said, keeping his voice low and steady despite the obvious tension, "where did you get this?"
"I bought it," Nova replied simply.
"BOUGHT IT?!" Aunt Mira’s voice cracked. She tore her gaze from the chicken to stare at him with wide disbelieving eyes. "Do you have any idea how much this costs?! This is 400,000 points! FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND!"
"It was 200,000 per kilogram," Nova confirmed. "Two kilograms. So 400,000 for just the chicken."
Aunt Mira swayed. Uncle Torven caught her elbow.
"Just the chicken," she repeated faintly. "Just — there are more packages."
All eyes turned to the other wrapped bundles still sitting on the counter.
"Nova," Thorne said, his voice dropping an octave as he stepped forward to face his son, "what is going on?"
"Open the other packages first," Nova said. "Then we’ll talk."
Thorne and Uncle Torven exchanged worried glances, but Lyanna had already darted forward, unable to contain herself. She grabbed another package and tore away the preservation cloth with zero hesitation.
"Deepwater Dragon Fish!" she gasped, her eyes sparkling. "I’ve only seen pictures in academy textbooks!"
The fish portions shimmered with iridescent blue-silver scales, each piece radiating an aura of deep ocean mystery. The preservation formation had kept them so fresh they still smelled of salt water.
Aunt Mira opened the third package with trembling hands, revealing the Jade Spirit Vegetables — vibrant green produce that literally glowed with concentrated life force.
Uncle Torven unwrapped the final package. The Golden Vitality Fruits gleamed golden as sunrise, emanating such pure life energy that simply being near them made everyone feel fractionally more energized.
Silence fell over the kitchen. The profound stunned kind.
Finally Uncle Torven spoke, barely above a whisper. "Nova... this is over 850,000 points worth of ingredients."
"We could live for two years on that amount if we rationed it," Aunt Mira said numbly.
"Where did you get this from?" Thorne asked directly. His voice remained flat and controlled, but his posture was rigid. "Take them from another hunter by mistake? If these belong to someone else, we need to return them. High-tier hunters don’t take kindly to—"
"I bought them," Nova interrupted firmly, meeting his father’s gaze directly. "With my own money. Legally. From Golden Fang Provisions. I have the receipts."
"Your own money?" Aunt Mira’s voice rose. "You’re seventeen! You just awakened your talent! Where would you possibly get nearly a million points?!"
"I hope you didn’t use your contract money from Crimsonpeak Martial Hall," she added quickly. "That was meant to be an investment for yourself, not us. Take it back."
"No, Aunty. I didn’t."
Lyanna had moved closer to the Crimson Phoenix Chicken, her eyes glazed with foodie obsession. She reached out slowly, her fingers trembling toward the meat.
"Don’t even think about it," Uncle Torven said without looking at his daughter, catching her wrist before her fingers made contact. "We’re not eating this until we understand what’s happening."
"But Daaaad..." Lyanna whined, her stomach growling audibly.
Thorne held up a hand, cutting off any further protests.
"Living room," he said. "Now. Everyone."
Living Room — Family Meeting
The Stern family living room was modest but comfortable — worn furniture that had served them well for years, family photos on the walls, an old television that only received basic channels. Everyone settled into their usual spots. Thorne took the armchair, sitting where he could clearly see both the front door and the windows. Aunt Mira and Uncle Torven shared the couch. Lyanna dropped onto the floor cushion, still looking longingly toward the kitchen.
Nova remained standing.
Thorne leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together.
"Explain. Everything. Don’t leave anything out."
Nova had prepared this explanation on his walk home. He had anticipated their concern, their disbelief, and their natural inclination to assume something was wrong or illegal. He had assembled something that was half truth and half necessary omission — enough honesty to be believable, enough discretion to protect what needed protecting.
"I need to start with my awakening ceremony," Nova began. "What I told you wasn’t the complete truth."