Chapter 245 – The training continues

“Mother?” Wednesday repeated, her tone monotone and icy, staring at the creature.

“Yes. Mother,” the Wendigo replied, making it clear.

Wednesday remained silent, only turning her face slightly toward Luke, as if needing confirmation that what had just happened was real.

“Great. We’re parents now and no one told me. Are you handling the emotional part or is it my turn too?” she said dryly.

Luke looked at her, offended.

Not because of the irony, he was used to that, but because, though he didn’t like admitting it out loud, she kind of had a point.

In recent months, Wednesday had shown remarkable emotional maturity. She had even said “I love you” first.

“So that’s a yes?” Luke asked, more amused than upset.

“No. That’s a ‘you’re sleeping outside if she calls me that again,'” Wednesday replied.

Before she could add another of her acid, sarcastic remarks, footsteps echoed from one of the stone paths leading to the gate.

Several figures emerged from the garden mist.

First, Natasha, her brow furrowed with concern, walking briskly, almost with a military stride. Upon seeing Luke unharmed, her expression softened, if only slightly. She stopped close to him, eyes scanning him like a field medic.

Behind her, Morticia Addams walked with a grace that seemed choreographed. Long black dress, eyebrows raised in interest. Her gaze was analytical, studying not only Luke but the war trophies he had brought along.

At her side was Eudora Addams, mother of Gomez and Fester, hunched over, draped in a tattered cloak, smelling faintly of incense, damp earth, and something indefinable. She murmured softly to herself.

And finally, Lurch. Tall, expressionless, his steps slow and erratic. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, firm, like a sentinel tree.

“I see the mission was a success. And without the help of my beloved,” Morticia said first, offering a faint smile.

She was referring, of course, to Gomez.

“And you’ve brought a creature I haven’t seen in ages,” Eudora added with a wide, crooked smile, disturbing enough to spook even Mortimer Spellman, had he still been alive.

The Wendigo instantly hid behind Luke, clinging to his coat as if it were a shield. It was a bizarre sight: a creature capable of tearing limbs with a swipe, trembling like a puppy behind him.

Without missing a beat, Luke smirked and said, “Don’t be scared, daughter. She’s your great-great-grandmother.”

Wednesday looked at him immediately. Not with surprise. Not even annoyance.

She rolled her eyes.

“Daughter?” Morticia asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Daughter?” Eudora echoed with a raspy laugh. “Already adoptive parents?”

Natasha frowned, confused. Lurch raised an eyebrow. Which, for him, was quite an event.

Luke raised his hands. “It’s a long story. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain everything.”

Wednesday looked at him again, this time with a mix of resignation and a hint of threat. He was the only one capable of breaking her composure with such absurd comments.

“You better explain that we haven’t adopted any child,” Wednesday whispered near Luke as they all walked toward the mansion, passing through tall, dark doors.

“Relax, I won’t ask you to pay half the child support,” Luke whispered back with a mocking smile. “I’ll handle the finances. I promise she won’t lack anything… though she might miss her maternal figure with symmetrical braids and a homicidal glare.”

Without looking at him, Wednesday jabbed him in the ribs with surgical precision.

Luke didn’t dodge it, though he clearly could have. He let out a small laugh, leaning slightly toward her.

“I’m just kidding, don’t frown. I’ll clear up the misunderstanding,” Luke said with a faint smile.

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but the faintest hint of a curve appeared on her lips.

They entered the mansion and made their way to the grand hall, where the lit fireplace cast eerie shadows on the high walls.

The Wendigo, still clinging to Luke like a shy cub, looked around with wide eyes. Every animated portrait, every dripping chandelier, every shadowed corner seemed to awaken her curiosity.

Everyone took a seat on the many black velvet sofas. Luke and Wednesday sat together, with the Wendigo girl between them, like she truly was their child.

Luke began to recount the events since arriving in Centralia. Most importantly, the battle against Mortimer Spellman, the Morraks, and later the fight against Zarvok.

Gomez, Fester, and Stanley weren’t in the mansion.

Gomez and Fester had moved as far from Centralia as possible so that, once Luke began acting as bait, the Spellmans wouldn’t hesitate to chase him. What they hadn’t expected was that the Spellmans had brought a mid-level demon with an extraordinary sense of smell.

Morticia kept her hands folded in her lap, not interrupting once. Natasha, arms crossed, listened closely to every word Luke said. She felt a twinge of sadness for Edgar’s death, even though she had never met him.

Eudora had her eyes closed, but she heard the entire story.

And Wednesday, sitting with one leg crossed, watched Luke without blinking.

“A mid-level demon with an estimated strength of 40 tons and supersonic reflexes…” Wednesday said after Luke finished his account.

“And Mortimer…” she continued, her voice still calm, but now tinged with evident criticism, “With telekinesis that must have hovered around 70 tons at least. Capable of turning you into pulp with one slip.”

Luke didn’t answer immediately.

“You didn’t get hurt and you won quickly and decisively,” Wednesday said. “But with the slightest mistake, one distraction, one bad decision, you could’ve ended up dismembered. Or worse.”

‘I thought the lecture was over,’ Luke thought, looking at her.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Zarvok’s strength had been overwhelming—literally. Over forty tons of raw physical power, with a body structure designed purely for killing.

And Mortimer… his telekinesis was far superior to Luke’s.

Luke had walked away without a scratch. True. But not because of any brute force advantage.

His telekinesis alone maxed out at around fifteen tons. Nowhere near the level of his enemies. But he never fought with strength alone.

He had outmaneuvered them using the best of his abilities, and Eclipse, the weapon that turned any telekinetic slash into a death sentence.

His extended domain gave him a panoramic sense of threats before they emerged. His future sight allowed him to dodge lethal movements with surgical precision.

And his blue aura enabled him to issue mental commands and weave illusions into his enemies’ minds.

Every second of the battle had been calculated. There was no room for error.

On top of that, there was his newest factor: the green aura.

Regeneration, enhanced strength, muscular endurance. It didn’t just heal him, it kept him at peak condition for longer.

All of that allowed him to end both battles quickly, without giving his opponents a chance to coordinate or adapt.

“So it wasn’t the easy battle you made it seem at first. It could’ve gone very wrong,” Wednesday concluded.

Her tone wasn’t cruel, it was concerned.

She wasn’t scolding him for weakness.

She was doing it because, despite everything, she cared too much about him coming back alive.

And for her… that was practically a declaration of love.

Morticia watched the scene in silence, a faint smile forming on her lips.

Years ago, she would have never imagined this. Her daughter: antisocial, distant, completely uninterested in human relationships of any kind…

Was in love.

And not only that, she was worried. Frustrated. Demanding that her boyfriend take care of himself.

In her own way, of course. With an icy tone, a blade-sharp glare, and not a single word spoken beyond what was necessary.

“My little withered flower…” Morticia murmured to herself, in the sweet voice of someone savoring a delicious irony.

“But that didn’t happen,” Luke said, raising his right hand with his palm open.

Around his palm, the space began to distort, and from nothing, Eclipse, the Poe soul weapon, appeared.

It emerged from thin air, summoned by his will, as if it had always been there, waiting for the moment.

The black blade bore ancient runes that glowed faintly.

Wednesday didn’t continue scolding Luke, she had no intention of creating a scene in front of troublesome witnesses. That wasn’t her style. Instead, she observed the soul weapon with curiosity, and Luke even handed it to her so she could examine it as much as she wanted.

Everyone looked at Eclipse like the ancient relic it was. The Poe weapon trembled slightly, as if displeased by unfamiliar hands, but it obeyed the will of its wielder.

Once everyone had taken a look, Luke lowered his arm, and Eclipse vanished.

And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, every gaze in the room shifted to the creature sitting on the floor near one of the side shelves.

The Wendigo was playing with a grotesque little statue, a hybrid between a gargoyle and a faceless child, that Luke had given her so she wouldn’t get bored.

She had taken it from one of the shelves, and no one had said a word. In this house, terrifying objects were practically toys.

“So… how did you end up adopting a Wendigo girl?” Morticia asked, raising an eyebrow with equal parts curiosity and amusement.

Her tone was gentle, as if she were talking about a household mishap, not a mythological nightmare creature.

And she had called her girl quite intentionally. She had observed her movements, her body language.

Even though, according to Luke’s story, she could be over forty years old, if she was captured during the Centralia disaster, as all signs pointed to, for a Wendigo, that was still just the end of childhood.

A creature with a lifespan of five hundred years developed differently.

And especially this one… who had spent her entire life in captivity.

“I didn’t adopt her, that was a joke… She chose to follow me,” Luke replied with a shrug.

That caused a faint murmur among those present. Even Natasha tilted her head slightly.

“By her own choice?” Eudora asked, pursing her wrinkled lips. “That’s not common. Not even among the more social outcast monsters.”

“And even less so for one who’s been a prisoner her whole life,” added Morticia. “She should crave freedom, not company.”

“What can I say… I’m charming,” Luke replied with a half-smile, glancing at Wednesday.

Wednesday shot him a sideways look. She didn’t say anything, but the glint in her eyes clearly said don’t start.

Luke turned to Morticia, “Can she stay here? I mean, I don’t know a more… fitting place.”

Morticia didn’t hesitate even half a second. “Of course. She’ll be welcome.”

Eudora let out a high-pitched giggle and nodded enthusiastically, “The more misunderstood beings, the better. The Addams family has always been a refuge for those who don’t belong.”

Luke nodded, satisfied, and looked toward the Wendigo.

“Well, that only leaves one question. What’s your name?” he asked, crouching down to her level.

The girl looked at him. Then she shrugged and shook her head. Nothing.

“You don’t know?” Morticia asked, with a note of quiet sadness in her voice.

The Wendigo shook her head again. She didn’t seem sad. Just… indifferent. As if she’d never needed a name.

“Then we’ll have to give you one,” Luke said, standing back up, hand on his chin, thoughtful.

“How about… Shadow?” he proposed seriously, as if it were a brilliant idea.

Wednesday shot him a glare. “That sounds like a pet’s name, and it’s gender-neutral. She’s a girl,” she said disapprovingly, without blinking.

Luke raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with it being neutral? It’s mysterious and impactful.”

“It’s cliché, and only impressive to you,” Wednesday replied, with a tone sharper than Eclipse.

“So demanding… Then what brilliant names do you have in mind?” Luke asked.

The Wendigo watched them, as if she were observing her almost-parents arguing about her future.

Wednesday slowly turned her head toward the Wendigo, studying her.

“Nyra,” Wednesday finally said.

Luke blinked, “Nyra?”

“Yes. Feminine and short,” Wednesday nodded.

The Wendigo lifted her head. She looked first at Wednesday, then at Luke, and nodded, signaling that she liked the name.

“Looks like she likes it. Nyra it is. Gotta admit, it’s got style,” Luke said.

“Obviously,” Wednesday replied, emotionless.

And just like that, the name of the mythological creature was sealed.

Morticia offered to give Nyra a bath and change her dirty, torn clothes. Luke agreed and left her in the hands of his mother-in-law.

Nyra seemed reluctant to part from Luke and Wednesday, but she had no choice.

Luke and Wednesday went to her room to talk in private, since the last time they saw each other in person had been during winter break.

“Today’s Friday. The perfect Wednesday Addams… skipping class? Not great for your GPA,” Luke said, sitting at the edge of her double bed.

“I have a special pass because we’re at war. Larissa gave it to me…” Wednesday said, sitting down and naturally settling herself on top of Luke.

“That’s great. Will you stay here for the weekend?” Luke asked hopefully, looking at her intently.

He missed her and wanted to spend the whole weekend together. With little to no training—just some rest after losing Edgar and fighting Mortimer and Zarvok.

He’d earned it. It wasn’t every day that someone took down one of the Spellman demon elders and a century-old mid-tier demon.

“No, I have to go back. There are things I need to—” Wednesday began, noticing the disappointment flicker in Luke’s eyes as he looked down.

She paused.

She’d planned to tell him that the war didn’t stop and she had tasks to attend to, intel waiting for her in her room at Nevermore.

Plus, she had school: homework and assignments due on Monday. Her routine had been quite strict lately.

“…Fine. I’ll stay this weekend. I can take a couple of days off,” Wednesday said, changing her mind.

“Really?” Luke asked, looking up again, hope reigniting.

“Yes. But we’re not going to be lazy. We’ll train and plan future moves. The war goes on,” Wednesday nodded.

“Oh, such a tactician,” Luke said with a smile.

“Of course. We can’t get complacent over one victory. We need to be ready for anything,” Wednesday replied.

And so, the weekend ended faster than either of them would have liked.

Wednesday returned to Nevermore, and Luke resumed his hellish training routine with Stanley, Fester, and Gomez, although the latter wasn’t always present due to being incredibly busy.

Despite killing a demonic elder, Luke knew he had to keep training, harder than ever.

He’d seen the gap between his telekinesis and Mortimer’s firsthand.

He needed to grow stronger in all his auras, and learn to wield Eclipse more effectively.

Gomez had begun teaching him fencing, something that was proving very useful.

Nyra also trained, though in a calmer way and without anyone demanding it of her, it was simply in her nature. Fester even took her out to hunt wild animals and even monsters.

And so, time passed.

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