Grand Return System-Chapter 66: Ripples Beneath Silk and Steel

Ripples Beneath Silk and Steel

Vita Zain’s eyes followed the three retreating figures, darkened now by possessiveness.

"Hmph," he muttered under his breath. "I’ve never failed to take a woman I’m interested in before."

Sound of the crowd drowned out what he said.

Fresh cries rang out as sellers called their amounts. Laughter spilled from kids nearby. Over cracked rock, a cart trundled by, its axles groaning under weight. Life pushed forward without pause, blind to the quiet spark now rooted deep inside a boy too eager to forget.

Far past the noisy street, Rias moved ahead with Selena beside her, Akeno close behind, steps slow under market shades. The man from before meant nothing now, his words already lost in chatter and wind. Their path wound between stalls without hurry, eyes drifting over trinkets, faces calm beneath slanting light.

That he’d believe a title could sway us surprised Akeno. Softly, she spoke while tucking back a strand of violet hair. With every graceful move forward, her dark silk gown shifted gently. One side parted as she stepped, showing the curve of one leg beneath.

Rias laughed lightly, red sleeves fluttering like flame in motion. "Let him bark. Our Teacher stands in the sage Realm. Even the Drake empire hesitates before making a move against him. What is a small city household compared to that?"

Suddenly silent, Selena walked on. With each step, the pale blue sash swayed, almost breathing. Sunlight hammered down, turning strands of her silver hair into liquid metal. Around her thin frame, the white robe floated, light as frost lifting off stone. Inside that calm was something deeper - the cold hush of ancient ice shaping her bones, making stillness feel alive.

People stared.

It wasn’t their fault. Something beyond control took hold. Mistakes slipped in without warning. The outcome came anyway. No one meant for it to happen.

Walking down the street, three girls caught every eye, different yet equally striking. Not quite of this world, they seemed, slipping through Ashford as if gravity didn’t apply. One moved like wind across water, another wore silence like a coat, the third lit corners just by passing. Mortal shapes, maybe, but something brighter hummed beneath their skin.

A puppet stand caught their eyes, strings pulling carved shapes into motion. Soft claps came from Rias. "See how that figure twists - almost breathing."

The old craftsman smiled proudly. "Miss has sharp eyes. It’s carved from red sandalwood."

Akeno leaned closer, studying the joints. "The craftsmanship is refined. The control threads are hidden cleverly."

Her eyes lost their sharp edge when Rias tilted her head with wonder. Just then, Selena didn’t seem carved from winter’s chill but warmer - someone who might laugh over tea instead of ice. While the silence stretched thin, it carried something familiar, almost tender.

Still hanging around for a while, they finally left, their laughter mixing into the steady noise of traffic. Soon after staying put, off they went, voices weaving through the city’s low murmur. Having paused awhile, away they drifted, joy slipping into the rhythm of passing cars. Not rushing at first, then stepping forward, sound trailing behind them like dust.

Floating on the air came the smell of broth bubbling long and slow, alongside chunks of meat turning crisp in heat.

Rias paused. "I’m hungry..."

Akeno covered a smile. "You’ve been hungry since the puppet stall."

There it was - a massive building with pillars etched by hand, red lanterns bobbing like slow metronomes in the wind. Over the doorway, suspended, a gold plate caught the light.

Whitelist Restaurant.

"This is the most famous place in Ashford City," Akeno said quietly. "I’ve heard of it before."

"Then let’s go inside," Rias declared.

They entered.

A hush settled beneath high ceilings where light caught dust above smooth timber underfoot. Murals of distant peaks curled across sliding panels, quiet but alive. Voices threaded through the room like thin silk, never loud. Scents of cardamom and steeped leaves held steady near low tables, refusing to fade.

Upstairs at Whitelist Restaurant, they took seats near a window that faced the busy road. The second level held their quiet group, settled close to the glass. Outside, the main street moved below while they stayed still above it.

Not far off, a waiter drew near, gaze downcast - yet unable to stop that quick, wide-eyed stare at how striking they looked.

Once the food arrived, a quiet calm settled between them.

Rias rested her chin lightly on her hand, crimson eyes bright. "Senior sister, do you know Max of Sky Breaker Acedmy? How is he?"

She had once visited Sky Breaker Acedmy, but Max had already left at the time.

Selena pondered for a moment, fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. "Max..." she repeated softly. "Yes, I’ve seen him before. He’s a dirty old man with a messy beard. He was present when we encircled the Inferno Kong the last time. At the same time, the master of the Holy Water Division of Celestis Academy, Respected Maya, was present."

She lifted her gaze.

"The experts from the great households were present as well. Teacher took away the precious bone and escaped unscathed under the encirclement of many experts."

Rias’s eyes widened slightly.

"That old man saw that Teacher’s strength was astonishing and wanted to get close to him. However, Teacher did not give him a good look and turned around to leave. That old man was so angry that his face turned black."

Rias covered her mouth and beamed. "As expected of Teacher."

There was pride in her voice. Not infatuation—no, something deeper. Trust. Admiration.

"What a pity," she added softly. "I wasn’t there to see it."

Akeno lifted her cup. "There will be more battles."

Selena’s eyes flickered faintly. "Yes."

Outside the window, Ashford City shimmered under afternoon light.

—

At that same time, within the Taylor family residence.

"Father, Mother, have some tea... Come, I’ll wash your feet. You’ve worked hard."

Harry Taylor moved with practiced gentleness. He poured tea carefully, then knelt without hesitation, preparing warm water.

Harrier Taylor, tall and broad-shouldered, black hair tied neatly behind his back, black eyes sharp with years of discipline, stared at his son in confusion.

Was this still his son?

Harry had returned from travel a month ago... different. Polite. Attentive. Calm.

"harry," Harrier said slowly, voice measured. "Did you get into trouble outside?"

His gaze narrowed slightly.

There must be something wrong. This was too abnormal. His son was usually carefree—proud, impulsive.

Harry stood upright immediately, green eyes widening with hurt. "Father, what kind of person do you think I am? I know you’ve worked hard and done so much for me. I just want to show my filial respect. I’m so sad that you thought of me like that."

His voice trembled just enough.

Harrier’s heart tightened.

Did I really wrong him?

Maria Taylor, seated beside her husband, placed a graceful hand on his shoulder.

Maria—Ashford City’s acknowledged number one beauty. Even in maturity, her charm had not faded. Long black hair flowed over her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright, gentle yet intelligent. Her white layered silk robes clung softly to her figure, the green leaf embroidery shimmering subtly as she moved. There was dignity in her posture, and warmth in her smile.

"You are too suspicious," she scolded lightly. "It’s not easy for my son to be sensible for once. Yet you dampen his mood with such words."

Harrier frowned faintly but said nothing.

"Exactly. Exactly." Harry grinned, squatting again beside his mother. "Mother knows me best, unlike Father who only knows how to suspect me. Come, Mother, I’ll wash your feet. You’ve worked hard."

Maria’s eyes filled with affection.

"Good son," she said softly. "I didn’t dote on you for nothing."

"Hehe," Harry replied lightly, pouring the warm water. "If you like it, I’ll wash your feet every day."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Maria laughed gently. "My son is an indomitable man who will accomplish great things. How can you stay home every day washing my feet? I am already satisfied with your kind intentions. My son has finally grown up."

Her voice trembled slightly with emotion.

Harrier watched silently.

Something was different.

His son’s smile was the same. His tone was respectful. His actions were flawless.

Too flawless.

But for now—he said nothing.

The afternoon light filtered through carved wooden windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor.

Outside, Ashford City buzzed with life.

Inside, unseen currents began to gather.