The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 182: Departure

Chapter 182: Departure

The Marquess cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. "Alaric will be busy at the academy, but I’m sure he’ll find time to keep in touch. And you," he added, looking pointedly at Adeline, "should focus on your own studies instead of worrying about him."

"I know," Adeline said quickly, though her heart wasn’t in it. She hated the idea of Alaric being so far away, even if it was for his education and future. He had always been her rock, the one who steadied her when she felt overwhelmed.

Aaron, sensing the shift in mood, leaned forward with a playful grin. "Don’t worry, Adeline. I’ll still be here. Your second brother is just as reliable."

"That’s not comforting," Adeline shot back, though her smile had returned.

Even the Marquess, who was usually reserved during meals, joined in the laughter. He recounted tales from his own youth, stories of mischief and adventure that surprised his children. For a moment, the weight of responsibilities and the looming farewell faded away, replaced by the warmth of family.

As dessert was served—a decadent chocolate cake that was a favorite of all three siblings—the mood grew more reflective. Alaric set down his fork and looked at each of them in turn.

"I know this isn’t a permanent goodbye," he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. "But it feels significant. Leaving home, stepping into the next phase of my life—it’s daunting, even for me."

Adeline reached out and placed her hand over his. "You’ll be amazing, Alaric. You always are."

Aaron nodded, for once without a trace of sarcasm. "She’s right. You’ll probably come back even more insufferably perfect than you already are."

The Marquess raised his glass, his expression solemn but proud. "To Alaric," he said. "To his success, his growth, and his safe return."

"To Alaric," the others echoed, raising their glasses.

As the evening wound down, the siblings lingered in the dining hall, reluctant to let the moment end. Alaric stayed with them, sharing quiet words and gentle reassurances.

That night, as Adeline lay in bed, she found herself replaying the evening’s events in her mind. The laughter, the teasing, the shared memories—all of it was a reminder of what she was fighting for.

Her family was her anchor, her reason for everything. And though Alaric would soon be miles away, she knew their bond would remain unbreakable.

For now, that was enough.

Adeline lay in bed, her father’s words echoing in her mind. "You should focus on your studies." It wasn’t him trying to scold her, but it carried more weight now. Ever since she had revealed her lightning powers, her father had grown noticeably sterner.

His usual affectionate demeanour hadn’t disappeared, but it was often replaced with an intensity that made her feel both anxious and determined. He wasn’t just treating her like his daughter anymore, he was treating her like someone who bore an incredible responsibility.

Adeline rolled onto her side, gazing at the moonlight filtering through the curtains. There were many eyes on her now. People who want to take advantage of her, people who regard her as their enemy...

She was worried but she told herself and the Goddess that she would relax a little and try her best to not overthink.

The next morning, he had pulled her aside, his usual warmth subdued. "Lightning is not like any other element, Adeline," he had said. "It’s unpredictable, destructive, and rare. There’s no one who can teach you how to control it. That means the responsibility falls on us."

The "us" in his statement had quickly proven to mean mostly her.

From that day on, her father had taken a hands-on approach to her training, pushing her in ways she hadn’t expected.

With no known lightning wielders to guide her, he’d decided that fire was the closest element in terms of intensity and unpredictability. Fire techniques would have to serve as a foundation until they could better understand her abilities.

"Fire and lightning are similar in their volatility," he had explained during one of their earliest sessions. "But where fire consumes, lightning strikes. It’s quick, sharp, and leaves little room for error. You must be both precise and restrained."

Adeline wasn’t entirely sure about the comparison, but she trusted her father. His reputation as a seasoned warrior and tactician preceded him. If anyone could help her navigate this, it was him.

The training was gruelling. It started with her physical conditioning—running laps around the estate until her legs felt like lead, lifting weights that seemed far too heavy for someone her size, and sparring with wooden swords to build her reflexes.

Her father insisted that she needed to be physically prepared before she could even begin to harness the raw power of lightning.

She saw how Aaron almost got hurt making a mistake when wielded his fire powers... But she has lightning, she could not afford to make mistakes, only one strike... One strike would be enough to end her.

"You can’t wield something you don’t understand," he told her one evening after she’d collapsed onto the grass, exhausted from a particularly harsh session.

He continued with folded arms, "And you can’t understand it if your body isn’t ready to handle it. Lightning is a strain on more than just your magic. It will test your endurance, your willpower, and your judgment."

Adeline had groaned at his words, tempted to complain, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t want to disappoint him, not when he was so clearly invested in her success.

So, she pushed herself harder, waking up before dawn to run drills and staying up late to practice meditation techniques that were supposed to help her focus her energy.

Still, progress was slow. The lightning inside her felt wild and uncontrollable like a storm barely contained within her small frame.

She had not used it since the encounter with monsters in the forbidden forest.

At least she could take a break from it. The next morning Alaric was going away and she was not eager to train.

The morning air was crisp and cold making her nose hurt.

The Whitlock estate was alive with activity as servants bustled about, preparing Alaric’s belongings for the journey ahead. His carriage, a grand vehicle emblazoned with the family crest, stood waiting at the entrance, horses pawing the ground with quiet impatience.

Alaric himself stood by the carriage, overseeing the last of the preparations. He was dressed in a neatly tailored travelling coat, his blond hair brushed back and his expression calm, though there was a subtle tension in his stance.

He had been preparing for this for years, yet he was still nervous about it.

Adeline stood nearby with Aaron and their father, the Marquess, each maintaining their composure.

Adeline clasped her hands behind her back, resisting the urge to fuss over Alaric’s belongings or offer any last-minute advice. He was her older brother, after all, he didn’t need her fretting over him like a child.

"Well," Alaric said, turning to face them with a small smile. "It seems everything’s ready."

"You’ve got everything, haven’t you?" Aaron asked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against one of the carriage wheels. "Books? Clothes? The absurd amount of snacks Adeline forced the cook to pack?"

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