Strongest Family System

When Robert walked into the courtyard, the faint scent of medicine from the alchemy building still clung to his robes. As he headed toward his father's study, moonlight traced the edges of the stone path. His heart silently bore the burden of responsibility as he walked in a steady rhythm, taking measured steps.

When he reached the tall wooden door, he rapped his knuckles firmly against it.

From inside came the calm, steady voice he had grown up respecting.

"Enter."

Robert pushed the door open and bowed deeply. "Father."

John Osborn sat behind a desk of dark sandalwood, lamplight spilling across the maps, ledgers, and jade slips that lay neatly arranged before him. His golden eyes met Robert's for only a moment before he gave a small nod.

"Sit."

Robert took the seat opposite his father. Without a word, he drew a porcelain jar from his storage ring and placed it on the desk with both hands. The faint glow of sealing runes shimmered along its surface.

"There are three hundred Spirit Root Nourishing Pills inside," Robert said evenly. "i have already planned two hundred pills for the journey."

John lifted the jar, weighed it briefly in his palm, and nodded. His expression revealed little, but his approval was clear.

"Well done."

Robert leaned forward slightly. "And the preparations?"

"Completed," John answered. His voice carried the certainty of a man who never left matters half-done. "The supplies are packed, routes secured, and our allies notified. Tomorrow morning, we depart."

Robert bowed his head once more. "Good."

With no more to say, he rose, clasped his hands, and left the study in silence. Yet the gravity in his steps did not fade—it only shifted. For nearly two months, his days had been claimed by training, cultivation, and planning. There was still one place he had not gone.

His mother's chambers.

He hesitated at her door, his hand raised. A faint tug of guilt pressed at him. She would be angry. She had every right to be. Still, he knocked.

A gentle voice drifted through the woods. "Enter."

Robert opened the door and entered. The comforting aroma of jasmine tea surrounded him. His mother, Mary Osborn, sat by the window, silver threads glinting in her dark hair under the lantern light. When her eyes met him, warmth lit them instantly.

"Two months," she said softly, though the sharpness beneath her words pricked at him. "Two months, and now you remember your mother exists?"

Robert bowed deeply. "Mother, I—"

She interrupted him with a quick wave of her hand. "Take a seat. You can tell me all about it over some tea."

A faint smile tugged at her lips despite her words. Robert obeyed, settling into the chair beside her. She poured tea into two cups, sliding one toward him.

"you have grown," Mary said after a sip. Her gaze lingered on him, sharper now. "Not only taller, not only stronger—but steadier. Your cultivation has risen. The clan grows with you."

Robert inclined his head. "It is my duty, Mother."

Her voice softened. "Duty, yes. But not only duty. Do not forget your family. Your sister, your mother—we are not burdens weighing down your shoulders. We are your strength. Remember that."

Robert tightened his grip around the teacup. For a moment, the weight of endless training and planning loosened, replaced by something gentler. "I understand."

Mary's smile deepened. "Good. Now tell me—are the preparations complete for the competition?"

"They are, Mother," Robert answered firmly. "Tomorrow, everything begins."

Silence fell, but it was not heavy. The tea was steamed between them, carrying the quiet comfort of home. For Robert, it was a reminder: he had not only swords and techniques in battle but also the hopes of those waiting for his safe return.

Mary Osborn set her cup down gently, the porcelain clicking against the tray. Her gaze lingered on Robert, softer than before, but carrying the wisdom of someone who had weathered countless storms.

"You know as well as I do that Celestial Brook City is not the same as our Osborn courtyard," she said, voice calm yet edged with concern.

"Powerful cultivators walk its streets. We've managed to hold the Grey Shadow Hall back from Magical City's influence, but if they refuse to act—and the Walker Clan provokes conflict—it will be difficult."

Robert's golden eyes held steady, but deep inside, her words struck a chord. He bowed his head slightly, then lifted it again with quiet resolve.

"Mother, whether the Grey Shadow Hall supports us or not, our clan will remain safe. I will see to it."

Mary studied him for a long moment, searching for cracks in his confidence. At last, she exhaled and nodded, though the faint worry never left her eyes.

"Then you must do one more thing," she said. "Take care of the participants in this competition. Not one of them should lose their life on that stage. The clan's strength is not only in cultivation—it is in the lives of its sons and daughters."

Robert pressed his hand to his chest and lowered his head respectfully. "I will guard them, Mother. None will fall."

The lamplight softened the room. For a while longer, mother and son sat together, speaking of smaller matters—the clan's younger children, the gardens Mary had tended, even little stories about his sister's mischief. Moments like this were rare, and Robert let himself relax, if only slightly, in her presence.

When he finally rose, he bowed deeply. "Rest well, Mother."

Mary's eyes lingered on him as he left, her lips curving in a faint smile shadowed by unspoken prayers.

The corridor outside was still. Lanterns flickered in the night breeze as Robert made his way back toward his quarters. Yet his mother's words clung to him, heavier than steel.

What if Grey Shadow Hall turns away?

His steps slowed. His jaw tightened. He thought of the Walker Clan—their head's strength, a man whose cultivation had already touched a realm that demanded reverence. If four clans rallied behind them, the storm would be greater than anything the Osborns had faced in decades.

His only hidden blade was the Shadow Reaper. But even with its strength, it could not defeat a Walker patriarch backed by allies.

By the time he reached his chamber, his mind was a battlefield of strategy and worry. He pushed the door shut behind him and slid the bolt into place. The room was silent except for his breath.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, exhaling slowly.

"System," he murmured. "Can the Shadow Reaper be upgraded?"

A familiar chime resonated in his mind, and the cold, mechanical voice echoed:

[Yes. Shadow Reaper upgrade paths available:]

Soul Manifestation Realm – Level 6 (peak): 150,000 points

Soul Manifestation Realm – Level 7 (low stage): 200,000 points

Soul Manifestation Realm – Level 7 (mid stage): 250,000 points

Soul Manifestation Realm – Level 7 (peak): 300,000 points

For a moment, Robert's chest lightened. Relief flickered through him like fire catching dry leaves. The Shadow Reaper could still grow, and that alone gave him hope.

But when his gaze fell on the costs, the numbers carved themselves into his mind like cold steel. His brief relief soured into sharp calculation. Every upgrade was a gamble with the future of the clan, and every point spent was a piece of their safety. His hand clenched on his knee, veins tightening under the strain.

If I misstep here… even the Reaper's shadow won't be enough.

"How many points remain?"

[Available system points: 250,420.]

Robert inhaled sharply. Just enough.

"Upgrade to Level 7, mid-stage."

The room pulsed faintly with dark qi, shadows rippling across the walls as though alive. A presence stirred within him, heavy and lethal, before sinking deep into silence again.

[Upgrade complete. Shadow Reaper: Soul Manifestation Realm – Level 7 (mid stage). System points reduced to 0.]

The panel flickered before his eyes:

System Status

Name: Robert Osborn

Cultivation Realm: Spirit Root Realm – Level 5 (Low Stage)

Soul Power: 700,000

System Points: 0

Skills:

Shadow Step – Level 2: Breath Sync (Mastery Achieved)

Twin Dragon Fang – Level 2: Coiling Scales Technique (Mastery Achieved)

Mountain Fist – Level 1: Grounded Form Achieved

Soul Awakening Realm – Level 3: Soul Seed Formation Achieved

Shadow Reaper Assassin – Soul Manifestation Realm Level 7 (Mid Stage)

Quests:

Main Quest: Strengthen the Osborn Family – Progress: 0.9%

Robert let the panel fade. His breath steadied. The power of the Shadow Reaper now pulsed like a second heartbeat within him—silent, waiting, deadly.

If Grey Shadow Hall betrayed them… if the Walker Clan gathered its allies… if the worst storms descended on Celestial Brook City…

Then he would meet it head-on.

Not only with his sword, not only with his clan, but with the shadow that now walked at his side.

For the first time that night, Robert leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Tomorrow's journey loomed like a mountain before him, but the Osborns had climbed mountains before.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it came with steel in his heart.

The clan would rise.