《Requiem of the Forgotten》


 Chapter 1:The End Before the Beginning

    Prologue ¨C A Dying Reality


    The first thing I remember is the silence.


    Not the kind that soothes. Not the kind that brings peace.


    This silence is wrong.


    Hollow. Endless. As if sound itself has been erased, as if the universe has forgotten how to exist.


    I stand at the edge of something vast, something final.


    Above me, the sky isn''t a sky¡ªit''s fractured, a broken tapestry of black and gold where time twists and unravels. Stars collapse, swallowed by the void. The sun is gone. The ground beneath me isn''t ground at all, just the memory of something that once was. Ruins dissolve into dust, consumed by an emptiness that stretches further than thought.


    And at the heart of it all, a throne.


    Cracked. Ancient. Built from the remnants of things that were never meant to be forgotten. It sits atop a ruin that once held a name¡ªmy name¡ªbut even that has faded, just another fragment swallowed by the dark.


    A figure rests upon it.


    A reflection of myself. And yet¡ªnot me.


    His form flickers, dissolving at the edges like mist caught in a storm. Something about him is wrong, something fundamentally broken. He doesn''t breathe. Doesn''t move. Yet his presence bends reality around him. Even the void seems reluctant to touch him.


    At his fingertips, the last remnants of existence unravel¡ªglowing strands of light, twisting and fading into nothing.


    He watches me.


    His voice stretches across countless echoes, worn and frayed, as if it has spoken these words a thousand times before.


    I don''t answer.


    Because I don''t know.


    Because I don''t remember.


    Only that it led me here. To this moment. To him.


    Countless lives. Endless cycles. Choices stacked upon choices, regrets bleeding into more regrets. I feel them all, pressing down on me like gravity, like the weight of a thousand mistakes that can''t be undone.


    It all comes down to this.


    A step forward. A breath drawn. A hand reaching¡ª


    And then¡ª


    Everything collapses.


    A rewind.


    A sky ablaze with falling stars.


    A world on the brink of something vast, something inevitable.


    A boy standing beneath it all, staring up at the heavens as something unseen begins to stir.


    A story beginning where it should have ended.


    And the first words spoken into the void¡ª


    Chapter 1 ¨C The End Before The Beginning


    A shrill beeping shatters the silence.


    My hand slams onto the nightstand, misses, and sends my phone clattering to the floor. The alarm dies with a pathetic thud.


    I groan, dragging myself up. My head pounds, my mouth is dry, and for a long moment, I just sit there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what the hell I just dreamed.


    I reach for my phone . No messages. Just news feeds cluttered with talk about some meteor shower happening tonight. People are already posting blurry photos of the sky. Once-in-a-century cosmic event, the headlines claim.


    Nothing. Just a vague sense of wrongness lingering in my gut.


    I force myself to move, stumbling through my morning routine¡ªhalf-assed, automatic. Wrinkled uniform. A toothbrush barely scraping against my teeth. The muffled voices of my parents in the kitchen.


    Arguing. Again.


    Same topic, different day.


    I slip out before they can drag me into it.


    Outside, the city moves in its usual rhythm. People rush past, lost in their own worlds. Car horns blare. Conversations blur together. The hum of construction rumbles in the distance. I keep my head down, blending into the flow of bodies.


    At the school gates, students chatter, their words overlapping¡ª


    I barely register their words. Just another distraction. Just another thing people will obsess over before moving on.


    First period drags. Literature. The teacher drones on about poetic symbolism while I stare out the window, watching the sky.


    Even the birds look more focused than me.


    By lunch, the whole school is buzzing. The meteor shower. Apparently, it''s going to be massive. Scientists are calling it unprecedented.


    I scroll through my phone. Headlines flood my feed. Blurry images of the sky. Speculation. Excitement.


    And yet¡ª S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The more I read, the heavier that feeling in my gut becomes.


    Something is off.


    I don''t know why. I don''t know how.


    But I can feel it.


    The day drags on. By the time I make it home, the sky is already shifting toward dusk. My parents are out¡ªgood. No awkward small talk, no fake concern.


    I drop my bag, flop onto my bed, and stare at the ceiling. Normally, I''d waste time on my phone, but tonight¡­


    Tonight feels different.


    The air is thick, charged, like the world is holding its breath.


    I shake off the unease, telling myself it''s nothing. Just another night. Just another distraction.


    I wish I could believe that.


    My phone vibrates.


    [8:23 PM] Lukas: You guys seeing this? This is insane.[8:24 PM] Emilia: Bro, it''s just starting. Chill.[8:25 PM] Lukas: No, I mean the sky looks weird. Like¡­ really weird.[8:26 PM] Noah: tf u talking about


    A pause.


    Then, almost on instinct, I push the curtains aside.


    And my breath catches.


    The sky is wrong.


    The meteors don''t arc gently like falling stars. They carve jagged, erratic paths¡ªsharp, deliberate, unnatural. Some vanish midair, blinking out like a glitch in reality. Others linger too long, their trails searing into the night like scars.


    A weight settles in my chest.


    Another buzz.


    [8:31 PM] Lukas: Okay, no, seriously. wtf is happening.[8:31 PM] Emilia: wdym? looks fine to me[8:32 PM] Lukas: Look at the moon.[8:32 PM] Noah: ¡­


    I don''t want to look.


    But I do.


    And my breath stops.


    The moon is wrong.


    Not just slightly off¡ªcompletely, impossibly wrong.


    It''s too large. Too close. Its surface flickers, shifting between clarity and distortion, like a reflection on disturbed water. As if it isn''t real. As if something else is pushing through it, using it as a mask.


    And then¡ª


    The sky splits.


    Not from a meteor. Not from an explosion.


    Something else.


    The night peels away, a tear ripping through the fabric of the world. Beneath it, there is no light, no void¡ªjust absence. A nothingness so absolute it feels alive.


    I can''t move.


    Can''t breathe.


    Because deep down, I know¡ª


    This isn''t just a meteor shower.


    This is the beginning of the end.

 Chapter 2:When the Sky Shatters

    I stood in my room, staring at my phone, scrolling through messages about the meteor shower. My fingers hovered over the screen. Something gnawed at my gut¡ªan unease I couldn''t shake.


    Then the power cut out.


    Everything died at once.


    The lights. The streetlamps. The city.


    Even the sounds of traffic outside¡ªgone.


    A heavy pressure settled over me, thick and suffocating. The kind that makes your skin crawl, that makes your instincts scream. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then I heard it.


    A low, guttural sound, too close.


    I turned.


    And it was there.


    Tall. Twisted. A shape that barely held itself together. Its limbs flickered, glitching in and out of reality. The thing didn''t move¡ªit jerked forward, like frames missing in a video.


    I couldn''t breathe.


    No face. No eyes. No breath.


    Just a shifting hole in the shape of a man.


    My legs finally reacted. I ran.


    I crashed through my bedroom door, slamming it behind me. A second later¡ª


    BANG.


    The wood buckled, the whole frame bending inward.


    Another hit and the entire doorframe warped¡ªas if the laws of reality no longer applied.


    I didn''t wait for a third.


    I tore through the hallway, down the stairs. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.


    Then I saw the window.


    And the world outside¡ª


    Was falling apart.


    Blackness poured from the sky, thick and endless, like ink swallowing the stars. The streetlights remained dead, leaving only the glow of phone screens and car headlights.


    Then, one by one¡ª


    The screams began.


    It started distant¡ªmuffled cries, the crunch of glass. Then closer. Louder. A horn blared and was cut off mid-sound.


    Figures moved in the streets. Some ran. Others¡­ didn''t.


    Shapes emerged from the darkness. Not just one. Dozens. Hundreds.


    They crawled from the alleys, from the rooftops, from the shadows themselves. Some staggered, barely human in shape. Others slithered. Some had too many limbs.


    And then¡ªthey attacked.


    The first to die was a man across the street. One of the creatures lunged, its arms bending in ways that weren''t possible. The man **screamed¡ª**then he wasn''t there anymore. Just a smear of static and dust.


    People ran. Cars slammed into each other. Someone tripped.


    The creatures didn''t just kill.


    They erased.


    I stumbled backward, my legs weak, my breath sharp and ragged. The black sky twisted, shifting, writhing like a living thing.


    I had to get out.


    I sprinted for the back door. My fingers barely grazed the handle when¡ª


    A hand shot through the glass.


    No.


    Not a hand.


    Something worse.


    It was wrong, the shape only vaguely human. Too many joints. Too many angles. Its fingers twitched, flickering, like reality itself was rejecting its existence.


    It lunged.


    I threw myself backward, tumbling onto the floor. The thing jerked through the broken doorframe, pulling itself into the kitchen, its head twisting too far to the side, locking onto me¡ª


    I ran.


    I didn''t think. Didn''t stop.


    I burst onto the street, into hell itself.


    Screams tore through the night. People ran, pushing, shoving, trampling each other in blind panic. Some were dragged into the dark. Others¡ªerased.


    Shadows moved unnaturally, stretching like living things, wrapping around anything that got too close.


    A child cried nearby. A woman tripped, scrambling to her feet. A man swung a tire iron at one of the creatures¡ªonly for his arm to vanish mid-swing, his body flickering out of existence.


    I turned, my stomach twisting. I had to keep moving. Had to survive.


    Then¡ª


    The sky ripped open.


    A blinding golden light exploded through the darkness, splitting it apart like a blade through flesh.


    And from that light¡ª


    They descended.


    Not meteors.


    Not salvation.


    Maybe Angels.


    They fell like comets, wreathed in burning radiance. Some had swords of light, others wielded nothing at all¡ªbecause they didn''t need weapons.


    They were the weapons.


    And the creatures screamed.


    Not in pain.


    Not in fear.


    In denial.


    As if their very existence was being rejected.


    The first angel landed in the center of the street.


    Six wings. A face too perfect to be human. Eyes that saw everything.


    He looked at me.


    And in a voice that shook the air, he spoke a single word¡ª


    "Run."

 Chapter 3:Six Months Until the End

    The world had already started to break.


    I ran.


    My breath came in short, ragged gasps, burning my lungs with every step. The pavement beneath my feet wasn''t solid anymore. It glitched¡ªone second rough asphalt, the next smooth tile, then nothing at all.


    Every step landed on something different. Sometimes, my foot touched solid ground. Other times¡ªjust a void waiting to swallow me whole.


    Ahead, figures darted through the darkened streets. Survivors.


    Not many. A few dozen at most.


    Some screamed, their voices lost in the chaos. Others ran in stunned silence, their minds too shattered to comprehend what was happening.


    One of them¡ªjust a few feet in front of me¡ªvanished mid-step.


    Not killed.


    Not destroyed.


    Just¡­ gone.


    Like reality itself had forgotten he existed.


    A shudder ran down my spine. We weren''t being hunted.


    We were being erased.


    Something lashed out beside me. A black tendril of nothingness cut through the space where my arm had been a second ago.


    I threw myself sideways, hitting the ground hard, barely dodging the attack.


    I didn''t think. I moved.


    The void was closing in.


    Then¡ª


    A shadow passed over me.


    Not from the creatures.


    From them.


    The impact shook the street. The air itself rippled from the force of its landing.


    Golden wings unfurled, and for the first time, the void creatures hesitated.


    The angel stood in front of us.


    It wasn''t like the others¡ªit didn''t fight. It watched. Calculating.


    Then, it raised a hand.


    For a moment, I thought it was attacking.


    Then the world vanished.


    Not destroyed. Not torn apart.


    Just¡­ gone.


    I was falling.


    My stomach twisted, my body weightless in the abyss.


    I couldn''t see. Couldn''t breathe. Couldn''t think.


    Then¡ª


    Light.


    Blinding, searing light swallowed me whole.


    And suddenly¡ª


    I woke up.


    Not to fire. Not to screaming.


    To silence.


    Not the comforting kind.


    The kind that comes after everything is gone.


    I floated¡ªsuspended in nothingness. No air. No weight. No pain.


    Just me.


    Then¡ªimpact.


    A rush of sensation slammed into me¡ªbreath, sound, gravity.


    My lungs burned as I gasped, my fingers pressing against something solid.


    Stone. Cold, real stone.


    I wasn''t alone. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Voices rose around me. A sea of them. Panicked. Confused. Lost.


    Thousands.


    I pushed myself up, blinking rapidly as my vision adjusted.


    People stood in clusters, scattered across a massive courtyard. Men. Women. Children. Some wept. Some stood frozen, their minds struggling to process what had happened. Others sat with their heads in their hands, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare.


    But it wasn''t a nightmare.


    This was real.


    Then I saw them.


    Not humans.


    Elves.


    Tall figures with sharp eyes and golden irises that reflected the strange light above us.


    Dwarves.


    Broad, heavyset beings, their muscular arms etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly, as if whispering forgotten magic.


    And other things.


    Creatures I had no names for.


    Beasts covered in obsidian scales. Shadows that moved without bodies. Winged figures cloaked in strange robes, eyes hidden behind golden masks.


    We shouldn''t be here.


    And yet¡ªwe were.


    I swallowed hard, my throat dry.


    Then¡ªthe sky trembled.


    Something descended.


    Not like the angels before.


    Something greater.


    It was impossible to describe. My mind rejected its form.


    Six golden wings shifting constantly, armor that wasn''t metal but something far older. A presence so vast, so absolute, it felt like it was pressing against my very existence.


    And its face¡ª


    It was not human.


    Not anything.


    Just pure authority.


    When it spoke, it did not use words.


    It spoke through reality itself.


    The voice wasn''t loud. It didn''t need to be.


    The world listened.


    The words struck like a hammer to my chest.


    Around me, people collapsed to their knees. Some sobbed, whispering prayers. Others shouted in confusion, demanding answers.


    Even the non-humans looked shaken. Some exchanged quick words in languages I didn''t recognize. Even they hadn''t expected this.


    The figure raised a hand.


    The air stilled.


    Silence.


    Then¡ªshock. Disbelief. Denial.


    A woman screamed. Someone next to me sank to the ground, shaking.


    I felt my breath catch in my throat.


    No. That couldn''t be true.


    The cities. The oceans. The forests. The people who didn''t make it here¡ª


    My parents.


    Gone.


    Something inside me fractured.


    But the being wasn''t finished.


    The words carried weight. Not a warning. Not a prophecy.


    A fact.


    The crowd stirred. Whispers. Panic.


    People turned toward the being, their faces pale.


    Six months?


    My body turned to ice.


    The weight of those words crushed everything else.


    It was coming.


    The void. The creatures. The thing that erased Earth would erase this world, too.


    Unless¡ª


    The figure gazed across the crowd.


    The world held its breath.


    Then, with a final burst of golden radiance,


    It vanished.


    Leaving behind thousands of lost souls.


    Leaving behind me.


    I stood there, my hands clenched into fists. My mind blank.


    This world was going to be erased.


    Unless¡­


    Unless we stopped it.


    But how?


    How do you fight something that shouldn''t exist?


    How do you stop the end?


    I didn''t have an answer.


    All I knew was one thing.


    The clock had already started ticking.

 Chapter 4:When Nations Are Born

    The first thing I notice is the silence.


    Not the calm kind. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that comes when everyone in a room realizes, at the same time, that they''re completely and utterly fucked.


    I hear breathing. Some heavy, some panicked. A few muffled sobs from somewhere in the crowd. But no one speaks.


    Because when the angel vanished, it left behind something else.


    Something inside my head.


    A pressure. A weight.


    And then, suddenly¡ª


    Words.


    Clear, perfect words. From people who shouldn''t be speaking the same language as me.


    I turn to the left. A man¡ªprobably late forties, military haircut, wide shoulders¡ªwhispers something under his breath.


    I understand it.


    I look to the right. An elf¡ªtall, sharp features, golden eyes that seem to glow faintly¡ªmutters something to another one of its kind.


    I understand that too.


    No, wait. That''s wrong. They''re not speaking my language. I''m not speaking theirs. We''re just¡­ understanding each other. Like our brains got rewired without permission.


    And that''s when everything really goes to shit.


    "What the hell did it do to us?"


    "Are we cursed?"


    "This is unnatural! This is an abomination!"


    "Shut up!"


    I wince at the sheer volume of noise as everyone in the gathering decides, all at once, to lose their goddamn minds. Some are panicking, some are furious, and others are just frozen in stunned silence. The elves have retreated slightly, their expressions unreadable. The dwarves¡ªshort, broad, stocky figures with runic carvings glowing faintly on their skin¡ªare already muttering among themselves, calculating something.


    And the orcs¡­ well, they''re just standing there, arms crossed, watching with a mix of amusement and boredom.


    Classic.


    "Enough."


    The voice cuts through the chaos like a knife.


    Strong. Clear. Controlled.


    And, most surprisingly¡­ human.


    I turn toward the source.


    A woman stands at the center of it all. Tall. Confident. Sharp blue eyes that hold the kind of intensity that makes you feel like she can see right through your bullshit. Dark brown hair tied into a messy braid, streaked with strands of silver, even though she doesn''t look much older than her late twenties.


    She''s wearing a mix of modern clothing and something that looks¡­ stitched together. Like she''s been adapting. Surviving.


    "Lydia," someone whispers. "That''s Lydia."


    Oh. So she''s important.


    Lydia steps forward, gaze sweeping across the assembled chaos. "You can fight each other. You can panic. You can pretend you have some control over what''s happening to you. But that won''t change reality."


    She raises a hand, gesturing toward the land around us.


    "Look at where we are."


    And, for the first time, I actually do.


    Wide, open plains stretch into the distance, meeting dense forests in some directions and rocky mountains in others. The sky is clearer than I''ve ever seen before¡ªno pollution, no city lights, just endless blue and the faintest traces of celestial bodies lingering from whatever event just brought us here.


    It''s beautiful.


    And terrifying.


    "This is our new world," Lydia continues, voice steady. "The angel said we have six months before we''re wiped out. Six months to prepare for something we don''t even understand."


    She looks at the elves, then the dwarves, then the orcs and reptilian beings standing at the edges of the gathering.


    "So tell me," she says. "Are we really going to spend that time fighting over who gets to be in charge?"


    A beat of silence.


    Then, predictably, someone says, "Yes."


    I sigh.


    The arguing goes on for what feels like hours.


    The humans want their own territory. The elves refuse to be governed by "barbarians." The dwarves won''t commit to anything unless there''s some kind of clear resource benefit. The orcs and reptilians? They''re just waiting, watching, letting everyone else tear themselves apart first.


    Lydia tries. She really does. She argues for unity, for a single nation where all species can stand together against the coming threat.


    But not everyone agrees.


    And in the end, compromises have to be made.


    By sundown, the map is drawn.


    Humans ¡ú Northwest. Their own kingdom, their own rules, their own problems.


    Elves ¡ú Northeast. Untouched forests, ancient ruins, an empire waiting to be reborn.


    Dwarves ¡ú Southeast. Mountains filled with promise, stone and steel, tunnels leading deeper than anyone dares to go. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lydia & her followers ¡ú Southwest. A mixed land, a new society. A risk, but a chance at something better.


    Orcs & Reptilians ¡ú The Center. A neutral zone, a crossroads for trade, power, and whatever the hell they''re planning.


    The first nations of this world are born.


    And yet¡­


    As everyone begins to move toward their new homes, something feels off.


    Like this was too easy.


    Like this was exactly what something wanted to happen.


    "Where are you going?"


    The question catches me off guard.


    I turn. Lydia is standing there, arms crossed, watching me with that sharp gaze of hers.


    And, suddenly, I realize¡ªI haven''t moved.


    I''m still standing in the center of it all, watching the groups split apart. Watching the future take shape around me.


    And I have no idea where I belong.


    The humans? My people, technically, but¡­ something about them feels wrong. Too much pride. Too much desperation. Like they''re already setting themselves up for failure.


    Lydia''s group? A mix of everything. Uncertain. Unstable. But something about them feels¡­ new.


    Two choices.


    Two futures.


    I open my mouth.


    I don''t know what I was about to say.


    Because right then, at that exact moment¡ª


    The sun finally sets.


    And the sky turns red.

 Chapter 5:The Path of Least Resistance

    The decision was easy.


    Not because I particularly wanted to be here. Not because I had some great vision for humanity''s future. But because the alternative felt worse.


    Lydia''s dream sounded nice¡ªtoo nice. A world where races coexisted, where borders didn''t matter, where people actually worked together instead of trying to climb over each other to get ahead. Yeah. That wasn''t happening.


    Humans, at least, were predictable. I didn''t trust them, but at least I knew what to expect. Self-interest, survival, conflict¡ªboring, but manageable. The other option? A bunch of idealists with no guarantees. Too many unknowns. Too much risk.


    So I followed the humans. Not because I believed in them. Just because I had nowhere better to go.


    The first day of walking was slow.


    Not that I expected anything different. Half of us were barely functioning, running on exhaustion and panic. The other half were trying too hard to act like they had some sort of control over the situation. Spoiler alert: they didn''t.


    We had no real direction. The sky was clear, the air fresh, but the land was a complete mystery. Grasslands stretched far, eventually giving way to dense forests in the east. In the distance, mountains cut through the horizon, sharp and foreboding. No landmarks. No signs of civilization. Just us.


    It took about an hour before someone asked the obvious question.


    "Uh, does anyone actually know where we''re going?"


    Silence. A few heads turned, some nervous glances exchanged. Then, predictably, someone suggested heading west.


    "Why west?" another person asked.


    "I don''t know. It just feels¡­ right?"


    Great. Our survival plan was now based on vibes.


    I sighed and kept walking.


    By midday, the hunger started creeping in. The few who had thought to grab food before everything went to hell had long since finished it. Now, it was just a matter of guessing what we could and couldn''t eat without dropping dead.


    Someone claimed that blue berries were usually safe to eat. Someone else argued that we were in another world, so maybe everything we knew was useless. Someone else tried to start a fire using dry grass and a lot of blind optimism.


    I found a small bush with dark red fruits, yanked one off, and popped it into my mouth. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Seriously?" A voice cut through the air, sharp and incredulous. I turned to see a guy watching me like I''d just licked a knife to test if it was sharp.


    Dark hair, glasses, an analytical gaze. Looked like the type of person who read history books for fun.


    "Figured if it killed me, you''d know not to eat it." I chewed. Tart, but edible. "Guess I''m fine."


    The guy exhaled like he was reconsidering every choice that led him here. "You could have waited to test it first."


    "Yeah? How?"


    "¡­I don''t know. Feed it to a squirrel or something."


    "See any squirrels?"


    "¡­No."


    "Then problem solved."


    He sighed, muttering something under his breath before jotting something down in a small journal. Meanwhile, another guy¡ªa tall, broad-shouldered one who looked like he could punch a tree in half¡ªjust shook his head.


    "Reckless," he muttered.


    I shrugged. "Efficient."


    That earned me a look, but no further comments.


    By nightfall, we had a fire. It was small, pathetic, but warm. The group¡ªabout two dozen people total¡ªsat around it in clusters, still unsure if they were supposed to be a community or just a bunch of strangers thrown together.


    The silence stretched. Then, a girl groaned and kicked a rock into the flames.


    "Alright. We need to start somewhere. Who the hell are all of you?"


    She had long dark hair, sharp features, and an air of frustration, like she was already fed up with this world. I respected that.


    No one answered at first. Then the big guy exhaled sharply. "Nikita. Russia."


    The girl raised an eyebrow. "That''s it?"


    Nikita gave a slow, deliberate nod.


    "¡­Wow. Okay, then." She turned to the guy with glasses.


    "Daisuke. Japan. I studied history."


    "Useful," I muttered.


    He smiled wryly. "More than you''d think. At least I know how civilizations tend to collapse."


    "Great. Looking forward to that."


    The girl rolled her eyes. "Carmen. Spain. And I don''t take shit from anyone."


    "Noted," I said.


    Next to her, another girl finally spoke. "Amina. Morocco."


    She was quiet, her expression unreadable, but I could tell she was paying attention to everything. The type to weigh every word before speaking.


    Carmen gestured at me. "And you?"


    I exhaled through my nose. "Aleks. Poland. 16."


    There was a beat of silence.


    "¡­Oh. A baby," Carmen said, smirking.


    I deadpanned. "Yeah. And if I''ve made it this far, maybe that says something."


    Daisuke chuckled under his breath. Carmen just shook her head. "Alright, fine. Guess we''ve got the basics."


    The night stretched on, and the conversations shifted. Some people talked about home. Others avoided it. Some worried about the next few days, others just wanted to sleep.


    Eventually, the bigger debate started¡ªleadership. Structure. Rules. Nikita wanted a chain of command. Carmen wanted self-governance. Amina watched them argue without saying a word, while Daisuke tried to balance both sides with logic. I just listened, waiting to see where the cracks would form first.


    And for the first time in a while, I felt something strange.


    Not comfort. Not safety.


    Just the vague sense that, for better or worse, I wasn''t alone in this mess.

 Chapter 6:Dragontown

    Two weeks. That''s how long it took for us to stop feeling like refugees and start feeling like¡­ something else. Survivors? Settlers? Or just idiots who didn''t know when to keep moving?


    Either way, people had settled into a rhythm. The mornings were predictable¡ªsome woke early to fetch water, others checked for food. People talked, people argued, and people worked because they had no other choice. The panic of the first days had faded, replaced by a dull kind of acceptance.


    But even in all that, I still couldn''t shake the feeling that none of this was real.


    "Are you gonna eat that, or are you just gonna stare at it?"


    I blinked and looked down. Some kind of roasted root sat in my hand, its charred skin peeling back to reveal a soft, steaming center. I wasn''t sure if it was edible, but at this point, no one was. We just ate whatever didn''t immediately kill us.


    Carmen was staring at me from across the fire, her arms crossed. "Dude, if you''re not gonna eat it, pass it here."


    I sighed and took a bite. It tasted like burnt dirt. Perfect.


    A few feet away, Daisuke was scribbling something in his notebook. "If we find more of these, we should document where they grow. Reliable food sources are the first step to long-term survival."


    Nikita, sharpening a makeshift spear, snorted. "And the second step is making sure someone else doesn''t take them from you."


    Carmen rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you sound dramatic. We''re not fighting over scraps yet."


    Amina, peeling a fruit in silence, glanced up briefly but said nothing.


    This was how things had been for days now. Small conversations, tiny victories, people adjusting. Some had already broken off, splitting into smaller groups and heading deeper into the land to form their own settlements. The ones left behind? We were the ones who hadn''t decided yet.


    The more time passed, the more it felt like I was just going through the motions.


    Wake up. Eat. Walk. Talk when necessary. Avoid unnecessary arguments. Try not to think too hard about how I was in a world where elves, dwarves, and other beings existed. A world that didn''t make sense.


    But the cracks were starting to show.


    I found myself staring too long at the sky, half-expecting to wake up in my bed, my phone buzzing with an overdue alarm. Or maybe I was already dead, and this was some elaborate afterlife with worse Wi-Fi.


    It wasn''t just me, either. People whispered at night about how this world didn''t feel real. Like it was too still, too perfect. Like it was waiting for something.


    I didn''t want to think about what.


    Then came the decision.


    "We need to decide."


    Carmen stood near the fire, arms crossed, her expression serious. "We can''t just keep acting like we''re a temporary camp. Either we move and find something better, or we build something here."


    Nikita scoffed. "You say that like it''s an easy choice."


    "It''s not," she admitted. "But it''s still a choice."


    A few others started chiming in, some agreeing, some pushing back. Daisuke pointed out that civilizations only started once people stopped moving. Amina, as always, remained neutral.


    I stayed quiet, listening. I already knew my answer. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Moving meant more unknowns, more risks. Staying here at least gave us something. Water, food, shelter.


    But the others weren''t convinced. Arguments continued, back and forth, no resolution. Eventually, one by one, people started giving up for the night.


    The last thing we tried before that? Finding a name. It should''ve been easy. But somehow, every suggestion turned into an argument. ''New Earth'' was too pretentious. ''Haven'' was too clich¨¦. ''Freedom''s Rise'' made us sound like a bad rebellion faction from a movie.


    "Screw it," Carmen finally groaned. "We''ll figure it out tomorrow. If no one kills each other by then."


    "We''ll figure it out tomorrow," Carmen muttered, stretching. "If no one kills each other by then."


    I lay awake for a long time after that.


    The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows over the camp. People slept around me, but my mind wouldn''t shut off.


    And then¡ª


    A shadow passed over us. Massive. Slow. Wings.


    I sat up just in time to see it¡ªa dragon.


    It soared silently above, dark against the stars, wings stretched impossibly wide as it glided through the night. It didn''t attack. It didn''t land. It just¡­ watched.


    My breath caught. The others, still half-asleep, started to stir as they noticed it too. Someone gasped. Someone whispered a curse.


    Carmen groggily pushed herself up. "Tell me I''m dreaming."


    Daisuke, still blinking away sleep, exhaled a laugh. "Maybe it''s a sign."


    Nikita rubbed his eyes. "Let''s hope it''s not a bad one."


    Amina, watching the sky, finally spoke. "Then I guess we know what to call this place."


    Carmen grinned. "Dragontown."


    I let out a slow breath, still staring at the sky.


    "¡­Yeah. Dragontown works."

 Chapter 7:A Place to Call Home

    Two weeks had passed since we decided to settle here.


    Dragontown¡ªor whatever the hell we''d eventually name it¡ªwas starting to feel less like a temporary camp and more like a place where people actually lived. The first few days had been chaos. No order, no leadership, just a bunch of desperate survivors trying not to starve. But humans are weird. Give us a few weeks, and we''ll start building routines, making plans, and figuring out how to complain about minor inconveniences like the ground being too hard to sleep on.


    This morning was no different.


    "Hey, we need more firewood," Carmen grumbled as she chewed on a dried strip of some unidentifiable meat. "I nearly froze my ass off last night."


    "You''d probably freeze less if you didn''t keep stealing the best sleeping spots," Nikita shot back, sharpening a spear.


    "I''m sorry, do you want to share your dirt with me?" Carmen smirked. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Daisuke, sitting on a log, adjusted his glasses. "Technically, body heat is the most efficient way to preserve warmth."


    Carmen threw a pebble at him. "Technically, shut up."


    I smirked and stretched, standing up. The sky was clear today, the morning sun actually warming the air a bit. "I''ll go check the perimeter. Make sure no one''s stealing our twigs and leaves."


    Amina, who had been silently organizing a pile of gathered food, nodded. "I''ll go with you."


    "Of course, you will," Carmen teased, wiggling her eyebrows. "Gotta make sure your precious Aleks doesn''t wander off and get eaten by a bush."


    Amina ignored her, but I caught the ghost of a smirk.


    We left the group behind, stepping past the crude wooden structures we were calling ''houses'' now. If you squinted, Dragontown almost looked like a real settlement. Almost.


    Then I felt it.


    A presence. Someone was watching us.


    I turned my head slightly. Just at the tree line, where the forest thickened, a tall, white-haired figure stood completely still.


    Amina noticed, too. "That''s¡­ an elf?"


    He was taller than most, his hair silver-white, his skin unnaturally smooth, like marble. His eyes¡ªcold, metallic silver¡ªheld no expression whatsoever.


    I frowned. "Something''s off about him."


    The elf stepped forward, his movement eerily smooth, like he wasn''t entirely real. His gaze locked onto me like I was a particularly interesting rock he found on the ground.


    "You are the human leader," he stated. Not a question. A statement.


    I blinked. "Uh¡­ not really?"


    "You are," he corrected himself. "Relative to the others."


    Amina nudged me. "Oh, you''re a leader now?"


    "Shut up." I turned back to the elf. "Who the hell are you?"


    "I am Caelith Vaen''Thalor."


    "Cool. And what do you want, Caelith Vaen-something?"


    He tilted his head slightly, like he was processing my words. "I am observing your kind."


    I frowned. "Observing?"


    "Yes." He paused. "I was¡­ cast out. From my homeland. I sought refuge in Lydia''s territory, but I was not welcome."


    I glanced at Amina. Lydia was the woman who wanted all races to unite. If even she didn''t want him, something was off. "Why were you cast out?"


    Caelith blinked, as if the question confused him. "I am an Ascended Elf."


    "¡­Okay?"


    He sighed, as if he was dealing with idiots. "One of my kind, long ago, attempted to conquer this world. He believed Elves were the only ones fit to rule. He slaughtered thousands. And when he fell, his final words were a curse upon his own race."


    Amina folded her arms. "So they exiled you because of something some ancient elf did?"


    "Yes."


    "That''s stupid."


    "Yes."


    Caelith had zero expression, zero emotion in his voice. It wasn''t arrogance¡ªit was just¡­ blank.


    I scratched my head. "And now you''re here because¡­?"


    "I wish to understand."


    "¡­Understand what?"


    Caelith met my gaze, silver eyes unreadable. "How humans survive."


    Silence.


    Then Carmen, who had apparently followed us, burst out laughing from behind. "Oh my god. That''s the most insulting thing I''ve ever heard."


    Amina sighed. "Carmen, please."


    "No, seriously, listen to this guy!" Carmen wiped a fake tear from her eye. "''I wish to understand how humans survive.'' Bro, we''re just built different."


    Caelith simply stared at her, expression unchanged. "¡­Different from what?"


    I groaned. "Listen, Caelith. You can stay. Just¡­ try not to be weird about it."


    "I am not weird."


    "That''s exactly what a weird person would say."


    For the first time, his brow slightly furrowed, like he was processing a completely foreign concept. "Then I will adjust my behavior."


    I sighed. This was gonna be a long few days.


    That night, after everyone had settled, I found myself lying on my back, staring at the dark sky.


    Caelith''s words stuck in my head.


    It was a simple question, but for some reason, I didn''t have an answer.


    Survival wasn''t just about food and shelter. It was about¡­ more. About moving forward, even when everything was falling apart. About finding something to hold onto.


    I sighed, closing my eyes.


    Maybe I''d have an answer for him someday.


    But not tonight.

 Chapter 8:Uninvited Guests

    Mornings in Dragontown had become¡­ manageable.


    That didn''t mean they were good. Just manageable.


    I groaned as I sat up, stretching my sore back. Sleeping on the ground sucked. Sure, some people had started making primitive bedding, but I was still at the ''pile-of-leaves'' stage of survival. Not exactly five-star comfort.


    As usual, I could already hear movement outside. People were busy, either setting up new shelters, gathering food, or complaining about how terrible their current situation was. Progress.


    I stepped out of my barely-standing wooden shack, rubbing my eyes. Near the fire pit, Carmen and Daisuke were already bickering.


    "You''re hoarding the good firewood," Carmen accused, pointing at the neatly stacked pile beside him.


    "I am organizing resources efficiently," Daisuke replied, not looking up from his notebook. "Unlike some people, I plan ahead."


    "Oh, bite me."


    I sighed and approached them. "It''s too early for this."


    "It''s never too early for justice," Carmen shot back, crossing her arms.


    "Justice for what? Who died and made you queen of firewood?"


    Before she could come up with a snarky response, Amina joined us, holding a few fruits she had gathered. "Aleks, you should probably check on your weird elf friend."


    My brain stalled. "Who?"


    "Caelith."


    Oh. Right. Him.


    I turned my head, scanning the camp. And of course¡ª


    There he was.


    Still standing in the exact same spot he had been in last night.


    Motionless. Expressionless. Just watching people as if they were test subjects in some grand experiment.


    "Has he¡­ moved?" I asked.


    "Nope." Amina popped a berry into her mouth. "It''s kinda creepy."


    Carmen grinned. "I love how he just showed up, declared himself superior, and then became a glorified statue."


    I sighed. "Guess I should check on him before someone throws a rock at him."


    I approached Caelith, who turned his head slightly as I neared.


    "You still alive?" I asked.


    "Yes."


    "Cool. Doing anything?"


    "I am observing."


    "Right. You said that yesterday. Observing what, exactly?"


    Caelith''s silver eyes flickered toward the camp. "Your species."


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You realize how weird that sounds, right?"


    "I have been informed of this."


    "¡­And?"


    "I do not understand."


    Of course he didn''t.


    Caelith suddenly straightened and spoke in the most robotic tone possible: "I have observed that humans engage in laughter upon waking. Therefore¡ªha. Ha."


    Carmen dropped her fruit. "Please never do that again."


    Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "That was physically painful."


    Before I could explain to Caelith why he was a walking social disaster, I felt it.


    A presence.


    I wasn''t the only one who noticed. Amina straightened. Carmen stopped arguing with Daisuke. The air itself felt heavier.


    And then we saw them.


    At the edge of the camp, near the treeline, a group of Elves stood watching us.


    There were five of them. Two with golden hair, one with dark brown, and the other two so eerily similar that I assumed they were twins.


    Their clothing was pristine, flowing like silk, embroidered with patterns I didn''t recognize. And their expressions?


    Pure judgment.


    One of them stepped forward. His golden hair practically glowed under the sunlight, and the way he carried himself screamed ''I think I''m better than you.''


    "I am Vaelion of the Elven High Council," he announced, loud enough for the entire camp to hear. "And I demand to know why an Ascended Elf has chosen to lower himself by staying among¡­ ."


    Oh boy.


    Caelith stepped forward with his usual, emotionless grace. "I am here of my own will."


    Vaelion''s lip curled. "That much is clear. The question is why."


    Caelith tilted his head slightly. "I am studying human survival mechanisms."


    Vaelion''s expression darkened. "For what purpose?"


    Caelith blinked. "Curiosity."


    The silence that followed was painful.


    Vaelion''s eye twitched, as if the sheer stupidity of that answer was physically hurting him.


    I decided to step in before he had an aneurysm. "Alright, so what''s the real reason you''re here? We don''t exactly get a lot of royal visitors."


    One of the Elves behind Vaelion, a woman with dark brown hair, stepped forward. "I am Seris," she said, her tone much calmer. "We were sent by the Council to assess your¡­ settlement."


    I folded my arms. "Assess? You mean, check if we''re dangerous?"


    "Among other things."


    Vaelion scoffed. "Your kind has spread unnaturally fast. In mere weeks, you have gathered in numbers that threaten the balance of this land."


    I narrowed my eyes. "Threaten? We''re just trying to survive."


    "And in doing so, you consume resources recklessly. Your people have no structure, no hierarchy, no purpose beyond existing."


    Carmen muttered under her breath, "Wow. Okay. Just say you hate us and move on."


    Vaelion ignored her. "Your kind breeds conflict."


    I frowned. "I think you mean ''people'' in general. Humans aren''t the only ones with problems."


    Seris nodded slightly, as if acknowledging my point. Vaelion, however, was having none of it.


    "You are invaders," he declared. "Your existence here is unnatural."


    I clenched my fists. "Listen here, you arrogant elf¡ª"


    "Vaelion," Seris cut in sharply. "Enough."


    Vaelion exhaled through his nose, clearly displeased, but said nothing more. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seris turned back to me. "Our people do not all share the same opinions. Some believe the humans should be left to their own devices. Others¡­" She glanced at Vaelion. "Believe otherwise."


    I raised an eyebrow. "And you?"


    She smiled faintly. "I prefer to make my own judgments."


    That¡­ wasn''t an answer, but I let it slide.


    The tension hung thick in the air. Eventually, Vaelion turned on his heel. "We have seen enough."


    Seris hesitated, then gave me a slight nod. "We will return. Whether as allies¡­ or something else, depends on what happens next."


    And with that, they left.

 Chapter 9:Foundations and Forgotten Ruins

    Mornings in Dragontown were becoming predictable.


    Not easy. Not comfortable. But predictable.


    Which was a step up from waking up every morning wondering if some fantasy monster would eat us in our sleep.


    I sat by the fire, rubbing the sleep from my eyes while Carmen and Daisuke argued about something pointless again.


    "Look, if you just stack the firewood properly, it won''t collapse every night," Daisuke said, adjusting his glasses like some grand intellectual.


    Carmen scoffed. "And I''m telling you, I like my wood messy."


    "That''s what she said¡ª" I started, but Amina kicked my shin before I could finish.


    "Please, let''s focus on survival instead of terrible jokes."


    She had a point. As fun as it was to sit around bickering, Dragontown was still nothing more than a glorified campsite. If we wanted to make this place livable, we needed some kind of order.


    "Any of you ever built a city before?" I asked, stretching my arms.


    Carmen smirked. "Does Minecraft count?"


    Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "Technically, urban development is a complex field that¡ª"


    "Shut up, Daisuke."


    "Alright, let''s talk priorities," I continued. "We need food, water, and shelter. Which one do we tackle first?"


    Daisuke pulled out his notebook. "Technically, water should be our top priority. We need a reliable source within walking distance, or we''ll waste too much energy transporting it."


    Carmen waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. But I''d rather not die from a random wolf attack while looking for it. We need some real weapons."


    "I can make spears," Amina offered. "And maybe bows, if we find the right wood." S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Caelith, who had been standing motionless behind us like an eerie statue, suddenly spoke. "You lack all forms of proper resource management. Your efficiency is abysmal."


    I sighed. "Thank you, Caelith. That was very helpful."


    He blinked. "You''re welcome."


    We decided to split up. One group stayed behind to start reinforcing our camp, while my group headed out to find water.


    Carmen, Amina, Daisuke, Caelith, and I followed the faint trickle of a stream that we''d found earlier, hoping it led to something bigger.


    "So," Carmen started as we walked. "Anyone else feel like we''re in a bad survival movie?"


    "We''re in a different world, and you''re worried about movie tropes?" I muttered.


    She shrugged. "It just feels like the part where we split up, get lost, and then something eats us."


    Daisuke frowned. "Statistically, staying near fresh water increases our survival chances by 80%."


    "And statistically, those horror movies always start with some nerd saying ''statistically,''" Carmen shot back.


    Amina chuckled under her breath. "At least we''re not completely losing it yet."


    Then, as if on cue, Caelith stopped walking and spoke in that unsettling monotone of his.


    "There is something ahead."


    We stepped through the dense brush, and suddenly, the forest gave way to something unexpected.


    Massive stone structures jutted out from the earth, half-buried beneath thick layers of vines and moss. Some had crumbled into piles of rubble, while others still stood, defying time.


    It was ancient.


    And definitely not built by humans.


    Daisuke''s mouth fell open. "This¡­ This is impossible."


    Amina ran her hand along one of the walls. "These carvings¡ªthis writing¡­ It''s not Elvish. It''s not anything I recognize."


    Carmen whistled. "Okay, new plan. Screw water. We just found a freaking lost civilization."


    I walked up to one of the structures, my fingers brushing against the cold stone. There were symbols etched into the surface, worn by time but still barely visible.


    "Caelith?" I glanced at the elf, who was staring at the ruins with an unreadable expression. "Any idea what this is?"


    He hesitated. Caelith. Hesitated.


    Then he simply said, "This architecture has existed for at least ten thousand years."


    A heavy silence settled over us.


    I swallowed hard. "So¡­ What you''re saying is, this place was here before the Elves? Before any of us?"


    "Correct."


    Amina exhaled slowly. "That means we''re not the first ones on this planet."


    A chill ran down my spine. If something lived here before¡­ where did they go?


    Then¡ª


    Something moved inside the ruins.


    A deep, slow scrape. Like stone shifting against stone.


    We all froze.


    Daisuke whispered, "Did¡­ did anyone else hear that?"


    The shadows inside the ruined doorway seemed to pulse.


    Something was in there.

 Chapter 10: The First Creation & The Forgotten Guardian

    Two things became immediately clear the moment we set foot inside the ruins.


    First, this place wasn''t built by humans, elves, or dwarves. The architecture was too alien¡ªmassive, intricate, carved with precision that felt almost unnatural. The second? Whoever had built it¡­ they were long gone.


    The air was thick, but not with dust or decay. No, it felt¡­ waiting.


    Caelith ran his fingers over the walls, his silver eyes narrowing. "This is not a city of elves."


    "No shit," I muttered, stepping past him.


    Carmen trailed a hand across a carved mural. "It''s too perfect. These walls should have eroded over time, but they haven''t. It''s like this place is frozen."


    The hall stretched out in front of us, lined with massive stone pillars covered in symbols none of us recognized. It wasn''t elven script. It wasn''t dwarven runes. It wasn''t even anything close to what humanity had ever written.


    Amina knelt beside a section of inscriptions, tracing a hand over the carvings. "These markings¡­ they tell a story."


    I stepped closer. "Can you read it?"


    She hesitated. "Some of it. It''s not a language, exactly. It''s more like¡­ impressions. Meanings carved into stone rather than words."


    Daisuke crouched beside her, pushing his glasses up. "Then tell us what it says."


    Amina inhaled deeply and began reading.


    She paused, fingers tightening against the stone. "It repeats that phrase a lot. "


    Something about that sent a cold shiver down my spine.


    Carmen frowned. "Then why aren''t they here anymore?"


    Amina exhaled and continued.


    The air around us felt heavier, as if the ruins themselves had held onto that silence. A weight, pressing down through time.


    Daisuke swallowed. "They¡­ just faded away?"


    Amina nodded slowly. "They lost their will to exist."


    Caelith, silent until now, finally spoke. "A creation without a purpose cannot sustain itself."


    Something about that made my skin crawl.


    Because it felt too close to home.


    A sound echoed from below.


    A deep, reverberating vibration, like a breath drawn from the depths of time itself.


    We froze.


    The air shifted, thickening like a storm about to break. Dust trembled along the stone floor. Something was waking up.


    My hand tightened around my knife¡ªnot that it would do much against whatever was making that sound.


    Then, slowly, we moved forward.


    The descent was slow, the walls narrowing as we made our way deeper. The temperature dropped, but not from cold. It was something else¡ªsomething ancient, something untouched.


    And at the very bottom, in a massive open chamber, lay him.


    A dragon.


    He lay curled at the center of the room, wings folded, scales dull with the passage of time. He did not look dead. He did not even look asleep. He looked like something that had simply stopped moving, stopped existing, but had never quite let go.


    Then¡ª


    One eye cracked open.


    A slitted pupil, glowing faintly in the dark, fixed itself on me.


    A voice, not spoken aloud but pressed directly into my mind, filled the chamber.


    I stiffened. Carmen let out a barely concealed curse. Daisuke looked like he was ready to pass out.


    I forced myself to breathe. "Who¡­ are you?"


    Slowly, the dragon lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over us like someone looking at ghosts of the past.


    Aleks: "Yeah, no shit."


    I hesitated, then said, "We were looking for answers."


    The dragon regarded me for a long moment before shifting his massive form. Stones cracked under the weight of his body. His wings, once grand and mighty, twitched slightly before stilling again.


    Carmen: "We were hoping you could tell us."


    The room went silent.


    Then Amina, of all people, asked, "Why are you still here?"


    The dragon blinked slowly. And then¡ª


    No one spoke.


    His voice was not bitter. Not angry. Just¡­ tired.


    Aleks: "So, what now?"


    The dragon studied me. studied me, like he was looking straight through my skin, through my thoughts, through every stupid thing I had ever done in my life. Then he closed his eyes again.


    It wasn''t a question. It was a certainty.


    I exhaled. "Yeah. We will."


    A long silence stretched before he spoke again.


    No grand speech. No dramatic moment. Just a promise.


    And somehow, that was enough.


    We left the ruins, the weight of history pressing against our backs.


    As we stepped out into the open air again, I glanced back once. The dragon hadn''t followed us¡ªnot yet. But I had the feeling that, when the time came, he would be there.


    Carmen broke the silence. "So¡­ are we just not gonna talk about the fact that we recruited a damn dragon?"


    Daisuke: "Statistically speaking, this significantly increases our survival chances." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aleks: "I swear to God, Daisuke¡ª"


    Carmen grinned. "Hey, maybe we should put ''Dragon Ally'' on our Dragontown welcome sign."


    I exhaled, shaking my head.


    Maybe, just maybe, we wouldn''t end up like the First Ones.


    But something told me¡­ this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 11:A Month Later & The Invitation to Topolin

    A month had passed since Dragontown was officially born.


    It still wasn''t much to look at¡ªmostly wooden structures hastily thrown together, with dirt roads that turned into rivers of mud whenever it rained¡ªbut it was home. In its own rough, barely functional way. People had settled into routines. Some built. Some hunted. Some just sat around, complaining about how they missed modern plumbing. The world hadn''t gotten any easier, but at least it wasn''t pure chaos anymore.


    And somehow, we were still here.


    The morning started like most others. Cold air, distant chatter, the smell of something burning. I wasn''t sure if it was supposed to be food or just an accident.


    I sat near the main fire, legs stretched out, staring at a crude map someone had scratched into the dirt. It was supposed to show our surroundings, but honestly, it just looked like a three-year-old had gone nuts with a stick.


    Carmen plopped down beside me, stretching with a groan. "I swear to God, if I have to eat another roasted root, I''m going to start chewing on my own arm."


    "Please don''t," Amina muttered as she stirred a steaming pot over the fire. "We''re barely keeping order as it is."


    Daisuke, sitting cross-legged and scribbling in his ever-present notebook, didn''t even glance up. "Nutritionally speaking, human meat wouldn''t be sustainable in the long term."


    Carmen blinked. "You know what, Daisuke? I''d really love it if you didn''t start my morning by casually analyzing cannibalism."


    "I''m just saying."


    I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Are we seriously having a conversation about eating each other? This early?"


    Caelith, who had been sitting perfectly still, observing us like we were some rare species, finally spoke. "Statistically, humans do resort to cannibalism in extreme survival situations."


    Carmen threw up her hands. "Great! Fantastic! Can we not?"


    I turned to Amina. "What are you making?"


    "Something that won''t kill us."


    "Very specific."


    "I try my best."


    The small talk was cut short by a disturbance at the main path leading into town. A small group of figures approached, their movements controlled and deliberate. Even from a distance, I recognized the flowing robes and elegant posture.


    The elves were back.


    I stood up, brushing dirt off my pants. Carmen groaned beside me. "Great. Tall, blonde, and judgmental are back."


    Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "It was only a matter of time. We are a growing settlement. Political engagement was inevitable."


    "Daisuke, if you don''t stop talking like a textbook, I swear I''ll throw you in the river."


    Seris, the more reasonable of the elven delegation, stepped forward, offering a nod. Vaelion, on the other hand, looked like he''d rather be anywhere else. His golden hair was immaculate, his expression as unreadable as ever.


    But before I could even open my mouth, I realized they weren''t alone.


    Behind them were more elves¡ªfigures draped in dark, muted tones, their expressions colder, more distant. One of them in particular stood out¡ªa woman with piercing silver eyes and a regal presence that made even Vaelion seem like an afterthought.


    Caelith, who had been standing beside me like a statue, finally moved.


    And for the first time since I''d met him¡­ his expression changed. It was subtle, barely noticeable. But for someone as emotionless as Caelith, it was the equivalent of a full-body spasm. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The woman regarded him with unreadable eyes. "Ascended."


    The way she said it wasn''t friendly.


    Vaelion cleared his throat. "We have not come here for conflict. We bring an invitation."


    I crossed my arms. "Invitation to what?"


    "To the Marktfest in Topolin," Seris answered. "A diplomatic gathering of all major settlements."


    Carmen frowned. "Wait. You guys do festivals?"


    "It is more than that," Vaelion said impatiently. "Leaders from across the continent will be attending. Including representatives of the dwarves, the orcs, and the united one''s."


    I blinked. "Wait, Lydia''s sending people?"


    Seris nodded. "Lydia and her People have remained neutral, but they have influence. It is an opportunity."


    "For what?"


    "To determine the future."


    That shut me up.


    There was a long silence. Then, Daisuke muttered, "Statistically, attending this gathering would provide insight into the political landscape of the region."


    I sighed. "Daisuke, please, for once, stop being a walking encyclopedia."


    Carmen leaned toward me. "We''re actually going, right?"


    I rubbed the back of my neck. "I mean¡­ I don''t see how we can go."


    Seris looked mildly amused. "That is the correct answer."


    Vaelion, meanwhile, looked like he was resisting the urge to throw something at me. "We will leave in three days. Be prepared."


    As the elves turned to leave, the silver-eyed woman lingered for just a moment longer, her gaze still locked on Caelith. Then she was gone, her presence like a fading echo.


    I let out a slow breath. Carmen clapped me on the back. "Well, congrats, fearless leader. Looks like you''re a politician now."


    I groaned. "I hate everything about that sentence."


    Amina smiled slightly. "You''ll survive."


    Daisuke jotted something down. "I estimate a 65% survival rate for diplomatic meetings."


    I turned to him. "Daisuke, I swear to God¡ª"


    He grinned. "I''m just saying."


    Three days. Then we''d find out where Dragontown really stood in the grand scheme of things.


    -I had a bad feeling about this.

 Chapter 12:Election

    Over a month had passed since Dragontown was officially born.


    I was sitting by the fire with Carmen, Amina, Daisuke, and Caelith. It had been a long time since we had a moment to just sit down and talk without something urgent looming over us. The night air was crisp, the stars bright, and the conversation¡ªwell, it was all over the place.


    "Anyone else ever wonder what happened to Nikita?" Carmen mused, tossing a small rock between her hands. "Dude just left with his group, and we haven''t heard anything since."


    I poked at the fire with a stick. "If he''s smart, he found a nice place to settle before winter hits."


    Daisuke nodded, pushing his glasses up. "Traveling long distances without supply chains is dangerous. The probability of them establishing a permanent settlement is higher than returning here."


    Carmen sighed. "I hope he''s okay."


    Amina smirked. "You liked him, didn''t you?"


    "Shut up."


    I let my gaze wander to the edge of town, where the forest loomed. "What''s been bothering me isn''t Nikita. It''s the dragon from the ruins."


    The group went silent. Even Caelith, who rarely reacted to anything, seemed to focus slightly more on the conversation.


    "You mean the one we found underground?" Amina said, lowering her voice slightly.


    "Yeah. That thing was ancient," I muttered. "And we still don''t know why it''s here or what it even wants."


    "We''re lucky it didn''t kill us on the spot," Carmen added, shaking her head. "I don''t care how many elves or dwarves show up, a dragon is on a whole different level."


    "Perhaps it is watching us," Caelith finally spoke. His silver hair gleamed faintly in the firelight, his inhumanly sharp features as unreadable as ever. "It has seen civilizations rise and fall. Perhaps it wishes to see what we will become."


    I exhaled through my nose. "Yeah, well, I''d rather it do that from a distance."


    Daisuke, now writing something in his ever-present notebook, muttered, "If it wanted us dead, we wouldn''t be here."


    "Comforting," Carmen deadpanned.


    The fire crackled between us, and for a brief moment, there was an odd sense of peace. But it didn''t last. In the distance, a bell rang¡ªthe signal that the gathering was starting. The first real election of Dragontown. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The center of Dragontown was packed. People stood shoulder to shoulder, murmuring among themselves. The makeshift stage¡ªlittle more than a few stacked crates¡ªstood in the middle of it all.


    I folded my arms and scanned the crowd. The atmosphere was tense, a mix of excitement and unease. This wasn''t just about picking a leader; this was about defining what Dragontown would become.


    One of the older men who had taken on the role of an organizer stepped onto the stage and cleared his throat. "Alright, folks. We all know why we''re here. Dragontown needs leadership, and it''s time we make this place official. The candidates will step up, say their piece, and then we vote. Simple as that."


    I clenched my jaw. I already knew what was coming.


    "Aleks should run," Carmen said casually, like she was commenting on the weather.


    I nearly choked. "Absolutely not."


    Amina smirked. "Oh come on, you basically run this place already."


    "I''d rather be eaten alive."


    Amina raised a brow. "That can be arranged."


    I groaned. "Why me?"


    Daisuke shrugged. "You have the most experience handling crises. Leadership is about calculated decision-making, and you excel at that."


    Carmen grinned. "Look, you''re an asshole, but you''re our asshole. You''re the only person in this town who actually tries to keep things together."


    I exhaled slowly. "No. If I took charge, I''d screw this up in a week. Pick someone else."


    Carmen rolled her eyes. "Fine. Then I''ll do it."


    I blinked. "Wait, what?"


    Carmen stretched. "Might as well. You know what they say¡ªif you can''t beat ''em, run for office."


    Amina clapped her on the back. "Great. That''s settled."


    The other candidates stepped forward. A former politician, a merchant, and a religious leader all put in their bids for leadership.


    "We need structure. Civilization. Laws that ensure safety and order," the politician argued.


    "Trade is survival. We must make Dragontown the heart of commerce," the merchant countered.


    "Faith has guided us here. We must choose a path that aligns with the higher purpose that brought us here," the religious leader declared.


    The crowd murmured in response. Some agreed, others frowned, but everyone listened.


    Then Carmen stepped up.


    "Look, I don''t have a fancy speech." She put her hands on her hips. "I''m not gonna promise that I have all the answers. But what I do know is that we built this place with our own hands. We made something out of nothing. And we need a leader who''s not going to get caught up in politics, power, or religion."


    She let that sink in before continuing. "We need someone who actually cares about the people living here. Someone who''s gonna fight for you, not for their own position. So yeah. That''s all I got."


    For a moment, silence. Then, scattered applause. It grew until it was a full-blown reaction.


    I smirked. "Well. That''s one way to do it."


    Daisuke, for once, didn''t analyze it. "It was a good speech."


    The voting system was simple. Each citizen would take a stone and place it in a designated box for the candidate they supported. Primitive, but effective.


    As people lined up to vote, I let out a breath and looked up at the stars above Dragontown. The city had come a long way in just a month. And now, they were about to take their next step.


    Whatever happened next¡ªthings were about to change.

 Chapter 13:A Leader Chosen, A Path Decided

    The morning air was crisp, carrying with it the tension of a decision that would change Dragontown''s course forever. People gathered in the open clearing, standing in uneven clusters, murmuring among themselves. The makeshift stage¡ªa simple wooden platform raised slightly above ground¡ªstood at the center, where Carmen now faced the crowd.


    She looked calm, but I could tell she wasn''t.


    Carmen had a presence that drew people in. She was tall, with a strong, athletic build, and dark, shoulder-length hair that always looked like she barely cared for it but still managed to fall perfectly into place. Her green eyes were sharp, confident. And, yeah, she was attractive¡ªnot in a delicate way, but in the kind that made people instinctively respect her. A leader''s kind of attractive.


    The votes had been cast. The results were in. And here she was, about to take on a role she never asked for.


    Amina stood near her, arms crossed, unreadable. Daisuke, looking a little too smug, adjusted his glasses while Caelith, as usual, looked like he was witnessing a scientific experiment.


    Carmen cleared her throat and raised her hand. The crowd quieted down.


    "Well, shit," she said. "Guess I''m in charge now."


    There was a beat of silence. Then laughter rippled through the crowd. That was Carmen¡ªblunt as hell. It worked, though. It took the tension down a notch.


    She took a breath and continued. "Look, I''m not gonna stand here and pretend I have some grand plan. None of us expected to be here, building a damn city from nothing. But we are. And since you guys think I won''t screw this up completely, I''ll do my best not to."


    Scattered cheers. Some hesitant, some genuine. Not everyone was happy, but at least no one was shouting about a recount.


    I stood at the edge of the gathering, hands in my pockets. Watching. Listening. Feeling increasingly like I didn''t belong here.


    Politics? Leadership? That wasn''t my thing.


    I was just here because I survived. Because I was lucky. And luck runs out.


    The election was over, but the real work was just beginning. The next step? Diplomacy.


    "We need to talk," Carmen said, pulling me aside after the crowd had dispersed.


    I blinked. "Uh. What?"


    "Privately," she added, before glancing at the others. "I''ll be back."


    Amina smirked knowingly. Daisuke made no attempt to hide his curiosity. Caelith just watched in silence, like some kind of robotic owl.


    Carmen didn''t wait for a response¡ªjust turned and walked towards a quieter part of the settlement. I followed, feeling weirdly self-conscious.


    It wasn''t that I didn''t talk to her. I did. But being alone with her? That was different.


    I had never been great at talking to girls, especially not ones like her. Confident. Tough. The kind that had probably never struggled with anything social in their entire life. The kind that made guys like me feel like stammering idiots.


    I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets and tried to act normal. Which, knowing me, was a lost cause.


    Carmen stopped near a stack of wooden supplies, leaning against one casually. "Alright, listen. We''re heading to Seatown first before Topolin. You know that."


    I nodded. "Yeah."


    "We need a plan," she said. "I don''t know shit about politics, and I need you to help me figure out what the hell I''m supposed to say to these people."


    I scoffed. "Oh yeah, because I''m the picture of diplomacy."


    Carmen smirked. "No. But you''re smart. And you actually think things through, which is more than I can say for half the people in charge of shit back in the old world."


    I frowned, unsure whether that was an insult or a compliment. "Fine. What''s the goal here?"


    "Convincing the other human cities we''re worth taking seriously," she said. "Seatown, Gynsk, Delunia¡ªthey''re all run by different people with different ideas. If we don''t make Dragontown sound like a real city, they''ll either ignore us or try to take advantage of us."


    I sighed. "Right. And what''s our angle?"


    "That''s what I need help with," she admitted. "You''ve got that whole cynical, sees-through-bullshit thing going for you. So tell me¡ªwhat''s our best bet?"


    I thought about it. "We can''t act like we need them. If we go in looking desperate, they''ll walk all over us. But we also can''t act too cocky, or they''ll see us as a threat."


    Carmen nodded. "So we find a balance."


    "Exactly. We present Dragontown as independent but willing to cooperate. We focus on trade¡ªSeatown has the biggest fishing network, Gynsk is focused on agriculture, and Delunia is basically a mining town. We offer them something they don''t have, and we keep things on equal footing."


    Carmen whistled. "Damn. You really do think about this stuff, huh?" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I shrugged. "I just don''t want to get screwed over."


    She grinned. "Then we''re on the same page."


    Later that day, the preparations for the trip continued. Supplies were packed, routes were planned. And in the middle of it all, the group debated what to bring as a gift for Lydia.


    "We can''t just show up empty-handed," Amina said.


    Carmen groaned. "What do we even have? A bunch of wooden tools and questionable alcohol?"


    "We have artisans," Daisuke pointed out. "A handcrafted emblem could symbolize our city."


    "That''s¡­ actually not a bad idea," I admitted. "A carved dragon sigil or something."


    Carmen smirked. "See? That''s why I keep you around."


    I rolled my eyes. "You keep me around because you need someone to make sarcastic comments."


    "That too."


    By late afternoon, I was done with the talking. With the planning. With the thinking. I needed to move.


    I grabbed a spear¡ªroughly made, but good enough¡ªand headed toward the woods.


    The air was different out here. Quieter. More real. My heartbeat wasn''t drowned out by people talking, by responsibilities, by things I wasn''t ready for.


    I found a clearing and started swinging the spear, testing its weight. I wasn''t strong. I wasn''t fast. But I could get better.


    For the first time in my life, I had a purpose.


    I wasn''t useless anymore.

 Chapter 14:The Road to Seatown

    The horses were bigger than I expected.


    Not just normal big. Massive. Their fur had a faint, almost metallic sheen to it, catching the light in a way that made them look like something out of a fantasy novel. Which, considering our current situation, made sense.


    Apparently, some of the surviving elves and dwarves had experience domesticating creatures similar to horses on their original homeworld before the darkness consumed it. When they arrived on this planet, they found similar creatures and began the process again. These beasts weren''t exactly horses¡ªat least, not the kind we knew from Earth. They had slightly longer limbs, broader chests, and thicker necks. Faster. Stronger. Wilder. But humans being humans, we took one look at them and went,


    Amina adjusted the saddle straps on her mount like a professional, completely at ease. The rest of us? Not so much.


    "This thing is going to fucking kill me," I muttered, staring up at my assigned death machine. Its black eyes met mine with a level of patience I did not deserve.


    Carmen, who was standing next to a chestnut-colored one, grinned. "If you fall, at least try to land on your head. Maybe it''ll fix whatever''s wrong with you."


    "Thanks. Real supportive."


    Daisuke, adjusting his glasses, studied the creature with an analytical eye. "Based on their skeletal structure and musculature, their center of gravity suggests a rider should maintain a balanced posture while¡ª"


    "Daisuke," Carmen interrupted, deadpan. "Shut up and get on the damn horse."


    Caelith, the ever-unfazed elf, simply watched as we all struggled to mount up. He moved with eerie grace as he pulled himself onto his horse, perfectly balanced, as if he''d been doing it his entire life.


    I grabbed the saddle and hesitated. My horse exhaled loudly, as if already regretting its existence.


    "Alright, fine," I muttered and swung my leg over.


    For about five seconds, I thought I had it under control.


    Then the horse moved.


    "Shit¡ª!" My balance shifted wildly, and I clung to the saddle like my life depended on it. Which, honestly, it did.


    Carmen cackled. "God, this is the best thing I''ve seen all week."


    Amina rolled her eyes. "Just relax, Aleks. Let your body adjust to the movement."


    "Easy for you to say," I gritted out, trying to stop myself from immediately flying off. "You actually know what you''re doing."


    Caelith, watching my struggle, tilted his head. "Statistically, first-time riders have a¡ª"


    "Don''t finish that sentence."


    Once we got moving, the initial panic faded. A little.


    The world around us stretched wide, open fields giving way to rolling hills, patches of dense trees, and quiet rivers. It was weirdly peaceful¡ªuntil you remembered that, in a few months, this whole planet might be fucked.


    A few hours into the ride, Carmen sighed dramatically. "Are we yet?"


    Daisuke checked his notes. "Based on our pace, we should reach Seatown before sundown."


    "Cool, cool. So, like, five more hours of ass pain. Great."


    I adjusted in my saddle with a grimace. "I swear, if I survive this trip, I''m never getting on a horse again."


    Amina smirked. "You said that about running too."


    "Yeah, well, I stand by it."


    Arriving in Seatown


    The first thing I noticed was the smell.


    Salt. Fish. Damp wood.


    Seatown was built along the edge of a massive lake, its waters stretching beyond the horizon. Wooden buildings stood in tight clusters, docks jutting out into the water where boats bobbed lazily. Fishing nets hung everywhere, drying under the fading light. People moved through the streets, carrying baskets of freshly caught fish, repairing boats, or just shouting at each other over seemingly minor disputes.


    It was rough, but it was alive. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Smells like home," Carmen said, wrinkling her nose.


    "If your home smells like dead fish, maybe rethink your life choices," I shot back.


    As we rode in, people turned to stare. Some muttered under their breath, eyeing us like outsiders. Others just kept moving, uninterested. It was clear that Seatown wasn''t the friendliest place for newcomers.


    "They don''t trust us," Amina murmured.


    "No shit," I muttered. "We probably look like tax collectors."


    Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "This is expected. A newly formed city like Dragontown will be viewed with skepticism by established communities."


    Carmen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. People are assholes. We get it."


    A man with weathered skin and a thick beard approached. His clothes were stained with salt, and he carried himself like someone who had spent years on the water.


    "You''re the ones from Dragontown?" he asked.


    Carmen sat up straighter. "That''s us. Here for the meeting."


    The man studied us, his gaze lingering on our horses. "You''ll find the others in the main hall. Follow me."


    The main hall was a simple wooden structure, its interior dimly lit by hanging lanterns. Inside, several figures stood in quiet conversation. Their voices hushed, calculating.


    A stocky man with thick arms and a serious expression sat at the center. His clothes were simple, but his presence was heavy. Next to him stood a sharp-eyed woman, her posture firm, her gaze observant.


    And then¡ª


    I saw .


    A tall figure stood near the back, arms crossed, his face half-hidden in shadow.


    Nikita.


    I stared.


    He looked¡­ different. Less rough, more composed. His usual cocky grin was replaced with something more measured, almost calculating.


    He turned, his eyes meeting mine.


    And he smirked.


    "Well, well," he said. "Didn''t think I''d see you again."


    I didn''t move. Didn''t blink.


    The last time I''d seen Nikita, he was just another survivor.


    Now, he was standing among the city leaders.


    And I had no idea what that meant.

 Chapter 15:The Road to Topolin

    The air inside the large hall of Seetown was thick with the smell of fish and damp wood, a reminder that this place had been built in a hurry, just like everything else in this world. The ceiling beams creaked under the weight of the wind coming from the lake, and dim lanterns flickered, casting uneven shadows on the rough wooden walls. The gathered crowd was tense but controlled¡ªleaders from different settlements, each carrying the weight of their people''s survival.


    I adjusted my stance, glancing at Carmen, who was standing beside me with arms crossed, scanning the room with sharp eyes. She was clearly taking this whole ''leader'' thing more seriously than she let on. Still, I could see the flicker of nervousness in her posture, the slight tightening of her jaw as we stood before the other city leaders.


    A broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and dark brown skin stepped forward first, offering a firm handshake. "Viktor Petrov," he said in a heavy Russian accent. "Leader of Gynsk. We were from Moscow before all of this." His grip was solid, his expression unreadable. "Your city¡ªDragontown, yes? I hear you''ve made quite a name for yourselves."


    Carmen nodded, shaking his hand. "Carmen Varela, acting leader of Dragontown. And yeah, we''ve been doing what we can."


    Next, a middle-aged man with graying hair, sharp eyes, and a military stance extended his hand. "Elias McKenna, head of Seetown. Before all of this, I was a naval officer from the U.S." His handshake was quick and efficient. "We''ve managed to maintain some order here, but food supplies are tight. The lake has saved us, but fishing alone won''t sustain us forever."


    A woman stepped forward next, her presence quiet but commanding. She had deep brown skin and long, braided hair that fell over her shoulders. Her clothing, though simple, carried an air of dignity. "Naima Bakari," she introduced herself. "I lead Delunia. We have been focusing on agriculture. If our crops survive, we might have enough to trade in the coming months. We were from Kenya before this."


    Carmen exchanged handshakes with each of them, introducing herself properly as she went. There was no fanfare, no overly formal nonsense¡ªjust names, backgrounds, and an unspoken understanding that each of them was struggling to keep people alive.


    As the introductions finished, I noticed Nikita standing nearby, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a hint of amusement.


    "So, Nikita," I said, raising an eyebrow, "how the hell did you end up here, of all places?"


    He smirked. "Turns out I''m good at keeping people alive. Seetown needed structure, and I had experience organizing supply lines and defense teams. Now, I''m one of McKenna''s right-hand men. General, in a way."


    Carmen tilted her head. "So you finally found a place where people actually listen to you?"


    Nikita chuckled. "Something like that."


    The tension in the room settled slightly. We weren''t just leaders talking politics¡ªwe were survivors trying to figure out what came next. And soon, we''d be leaving for Topolin to face an even bigger challenge.


    We left Seetown at sunrise.


    The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and lake water as we rode out of the settlement. The sky stretched vast and endless above us, pale blue with streaks of orange from the rising sun. The landscape ahead was different from what we''d seen before¡ªrolling plains that stretched far, covered in golden grass swaying with the wind. It felt untouched, endless, like a world waiting to be claimed.


    "Feels weird leaving a place we just got to," Carmen muttered, adjusting the reins of her horse.


    "You''ll get used to it," Nikita replied. "We''re all wanderers in this world now."


    I turned in my saddle, looking back at Seetown one last time. The settlement looked so small from here¡ªjust a collection of wooden buildings huddled near the shore of the great lake, dwarfed by the water''s vastness. It was strange, knowing that this place hadn''t even existed two months ago, yet now it was a home to thousands.


    We rode southward.


    The roads, if they could even be called that, were uneven and barely marked. Sometimes we followed old hunting trails left by those who had passed before us. Other times, we simply navigated by sight, using the landscape as our only guide. The continent wasn''t vast, not like Earth, but it was still large enough to feel empty¡ªlike a canvas where life was just beginning to paint itself.


    I let my mind wander as we moved.


    The plains soon gave way to thick forests, dense with trees I couldn''t name. They weren''t quite like Earth''s forests¡ªsome had bark that shimmered in the sunlight, others bore fruit with colors too vivid to be real. Birds fluttered between the branches, their calls unfamiliar, alien. Every so often, I caught movement in the undergrowth¡ªsmall creatures, quick and quiet, disappearing before I could get a good look.


    It was beautiful. Strange. A reminder that this world wasn''t ours.


    "This place really is something else," Daisuke murmured, his gaze flickering to the treetops. "It feels¡­ too untouched. Like it''s been waiting for something."


    "Waiting for us?" Amina asked, half-smirking.


    "Or something worse," I muttered.


    The journey took most of the day. We stopped briefly to rest and eat, sharing what little rations we carried. The further south we rode, the warmer the air became, though it was never uncomfortably hot. It felt different from Earth''s heat¡ªlighter, less oppressive. Like the air itself carried a different balance of life.


    By late afternoon, the forests began to thin, and we saw the first signs of civilization ahead.


    Topolin.


    Even from a distance, I could tell it was different from Dragontown or Seetown. The buildings were sturdier, taller, made of smooth stone rather than rough wood. The city spread along the banks of a winding river, its waters reflecting the last light of day. Unlike our settlements, which had sprung up in chaos and necessity, this place had been built with purpose. It had structure.


    I heard Carmen whistle under her breath. "Okay. Gotta admit, that looks¡­ kinda impressive."


    "It should be," Nikita said. "Topolin was the first settlement to establish order. Lydia made sure of that."


    I adjusted my grip on the reins, scanning the walls ahead. Guards stood at the entrance, not just humans, but elves and dwarves too. The gates were open, though¡ªwelcoming, not defensive.


    As we approached, I felt a strange weight settle in my chest. This wasn''t just another stop. This was the place where everything would be decided. Where leaders from all over the continent would gather to plan for the future. And where, whether I liked it or not, I''d have to be part of that discussion.


    We passed through the gates without issue, making our way into the city. The streets were wider than Dragontown''s, lined with stalls and shops, people moving with purpose. It was more organized, more alive. Yet despite its relative advancement, it was still a city born from survival. Everything here had been built from the ground up, just like us.


    As we reached the central square, a familiar figure stepped forward from the crowd.


    Lydia.


    Her presence was unmistakable¡ªtall, composed, with that ever-watchful gaze that made it feel like she already knew why we were here before we said a word.


    "You made it," she said simply.


    Carmen swung off her horse, stretching her legs. "You didn''t think we''d miss the biggest political gathering in history, did you?"


    Lydia smiled faintly, then turned her gaze to me. "And you, young men? I assume you''ve been enjoying your newfound responsibilities?"


    I exhaled through my nose. "Let''s just say I''m here because I have to be."


    She studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Then let''s get to work." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 16:Emotions

    Lydia stood at the entrance of the hall, her golden eyes calm, unreadable. The kind of expression a queen might wear before stepping into a war council.


    Behind her, the hall loomed¡ªlarger and sturdier than anything Dragontown had managed to build. Thick beams arched over the ceiling, the scent of fresh-cut wood still lingering in the air. Rough banners hung from the walls, some featuring symbols that were clearly unfinished, while others were more refined, their craftsmanship leagues ahead of anything we could manage.


    It was impressive. Too impressive.


    Lydia''s gaze swept over us¡ªnot just our group, but also the other human leaders who had traveled with us from Seatown. She gave a short nod before turning on her heel.


    "Follow me."


    We entered together.


    And the moment we did, I felt the silence.


    Not an ordinary silence. This was deliberate. Heavy. The kind that settled over a room when people had already decided something about you¡ªand you were the last to know.


    At the center of the hall stood a massive round table. The surface was polished dark wood, almost unnatural in its sheen. The chairs around it were occupied by representatives from every major faction.


    The humans were seated together. Seatown''s leader sat stiffly, his broad frame and sun-worn skin giving him the appearance of an old soldier. Behind him, Nikita stood at attention, his stance sharp, disciplined. Delunia''s leader, a wiry man with a perpetual calculating expression, drummed his fingers against the wood. Gynsk''s leader, a woman with a face carved by hardship, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her gaze flicking between the others.


    And then¡ªthe Elves.


    At their center, the Elven King.


    He was tall, unnaturally so, even for an elf. His robes were deep emerald, lined with gray, his long golden hair cascading over his shoulders like flowing silk. His face was impossibly sharp, elegant, the kind of beauty that didn''t belong to normal mortals.


    Vaelion stood behind him, slightly to his right, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. Seris stood on the other side, her dark gaze wary, cautious.


    Further down, the dwarves. Their leader was a thick-browed man with a silver-streaked beard, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression already one of mild impatience.


    Beyond them, the other races. Orcs. Reptilian beings. A few I didn''t even recognize¡ªsome humanoid, some barely so.


    And then there was us. The Dragontown group.


    The air shifted the moment we stepped forward. The Elven King''s gaze barely flicked toward us. Vaelion didn''t even bother to hide his smirk. The dwarven leader exhaled slowly through his nose, as if he had already made up his mind about us.


    Lydia took her seat. Then, without preamble, she spoke.


    "Dragontown."


    That was it. No introduction. No formal welcome. Just one word. Like we were an afterthought.Carmen didn''t let it shake her. She pulled out her chair and sat, her expression smooth, composed.


    "Thank you for having us," she said, her voice steady.


    She started strong. She spoke of Dragontown''s growth. How we had built homes, organized defenses, started trade. How people had come together in the face of nothing, creating something that wasn''t just survival¡ªit was progress.


    She was good. Too good.


    Which is why the first laugh hit like a knife to the stomach.It wasn''t loud. Just a slow exhale of amusement. Then another. A ripple of chuckles.


    And then¡ªthe Elven King finally looked at us.


    "Children."


    The word landed like a stone. Not an insult. Just a fact.


    Carmen''s jaw tensed.


    The dwarven leader let out a short breath, his thick fingers tapping the table. "A city run by teenagers," he mused. "Impressive." The sarcasm was undeniable.


    Vaelion chuckled softly. "I fail to see why we are here," he said smoothly. "It is one thing to discuss alliances between established cities. It is another to entertain a settlement that is, at best, a temporary camp."


    Carmen refused to falter. "We''re not asking for permission to exist."


    The Elven King tilted his head slightly.


    "No," he said, "but you are asking to be taken seriously."


    The words cut through the air like a blade.


    Silence.


    Then¡ªthey tore us apart.


    They dissected everything. The lack of political structure. The inexperience of our leadership. The unstable economy. The weak military force. The simple fact that every single one of us was under eighteen.


    It wasn''t an argument. It was a demolition.


    And the worst part?


    They weren''t wrong.


    It had all felt too easy. The founding of Dragontown. The way people fell in line. The sense that we were actually building something real¡ª


    But the moment we stepped into the wider world, it collapsed.


    A pit formed in my stomach. The air around me thickened, pressing against my lungs. The walls felt closer, the voices louder, the room tighter.


    My pulse slammed against my ribs. I couldn''t breathe.


    Carmen was still speaking. Someone was still laughing.


    The walls were closing in.


    I barely remember leaving the meeting hall.


    One second, I was sitting there, feeling the walls close in, the voices hammering down on us like a relentless tide. The next, I was outside, moving blindly, the night air pressing against my skin like something tangible, something heavy. The world felt muted¡ªlike I was walking underwater, every sound distant, every movement sluggish.


    Somewhere behind me, I could hear the others gathering around the fire. Their voices were quiet, subdued. No one was celebrating. No one was even talking much. The air was thick, suffocating.


    I didn''t sit with them.


    "I¡­ I need a break," I muttered, barely recognizing my own voice.


    No one questioned it. Not Carmen, not Nikita, not Amina. Daisuke glanced up, but for once, he didn''t say anything.


    They let me go. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I walked.


    And kept walking.


    I wasn''t going anywhere, not really. Just away. Away from them, from the fire, from the city. Away from everything. My feet carried me toward the treeline, the darkened mass of the forest swallowing me whole. The moment I was inside, the sounds of the camp faded, replaced by the distant rustling of leaves, the occasional snap of a branch. The air smelled damp, earthy, fresh¡ªlike the world didn''t give a damn about the meeting, about Dragontown, about me.


    I stopped.


    And then, finally¡ªI broke.


    The breath left my lungs in a sharp, ragged gasp, my shoulders heaving, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me. I staggered forward and caught myself against a tree, my fingers digging into the rough bark. My head spun. My vision swam.


    It was never real.


    The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.


    It was all a lie.


    Dragontown. The way everything had come together so easily. The way people had fallen in line, as if we were actually building something real, something that mattered.


    But it didn''t.


    Because they were right.


    We were just kids playing in the sand, pretending we belonged.


    I pressed my forehead against the tree, squeezing my eyes shut. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. I could still hear them¡ªthe laughter, the condescension, the way they had dismissed us so completely, so effortlessly.


    They were right.


    It wasn''t just Dragontown. It was everything.


    I never processed any of it.


    The war. The invasion. The destruction. The way the sky had split open, the way the world had been swallowed whole. The way I had stood there, watching as my home¡ªmy life¡ªwas erased.


    Mom. Dad.


    I couldn''t even picture their faces anymore. Just blurred images, voices already fading.


    Because I hadn''t let myself think about them. Not once.


    Not when we ran. Not when we arrived in this world. Not when we started building.


    I had kept moving, kept pretending like none of it mattered.


    Like I was fine.


    But I wasn''t.


    I never had been.


    I gasped for air, but my chest felt tight, like something was crushing me from the inside. My pulse pounded in my skull, too fast, too erratic. The world tilted.


    I can''t breathe.


    I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms¡ªand then I swung.


    My knuckles slammed into the tree, sending a sharp jolt of pain up my arm.


    It wasn''t enough.


    I hit it again. Harder.


    Again.


    Again.


    The bark split under my fists, rough and unforgiving, biting into my skin. Warmth trickled down my fingers, but I didn''t stop. I couldn''t.


    I just wanted to feel something real.


    Something solid.


    Something that wasn''t slipping through my fingers.


    I kept swinging, even as my breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, even as my arms trembled from exhaustion. My vision blurred. My knees buckled.


    I was so tired.


    So tired.


    I wanted to stop.


    I wanted to let go.


    But I couldn''t.


    Because if I stopped now¡ªI''d have to face it.


    All of it.


    The truth.


    That I wasn''t strong. That I wasn''t some leader. That I wasn''t anything.


    That I was just some kid who had lost everything, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.


    I pressed my forehead against the tree again, breath hitching, blood dripping from my knuckles. The world felt like it was caving in, pressing down on me, suffocating me.


    I squeezed my eyes shut.


    I just wanted it to stop.


    "¡­Aleks."


    I tensed.


    The voice was quiet. Measured. Familiar.


    I turned my head, and through the haze of exhaustion, of pain, I saw him.


    Caelith.


    He stood a few feet away, watching me with those unreadable silver eyes. His white hair shimmered faintly in the dim moonlight, his face as expressionless as ever. But there was something different in the way he looked at me.


    Something almost¡­ careful.


    I wiped at my face with the back of my sleeve. "What do you want?" My voice came out hoarse, raw.


    Caelith didn''t answer immediately. He stepped closer, his movements deliberate, calculated, as if approaching a wounded animal.


    Then, finally¡ª


    "I have not properly thanked you."


    I blinked. My brain barely processed the words. "What?"


    He sat down beside me, his posture eerily perfect, like he was carved from stone. He didn''t look at me. Instead, his gaze remained forward, unfocused, as if looking at something only he could see.


    "I have never thanked you," he continued, his tone flat, almost mechanical. "For taking me in."


    I let out a weak, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well. You never seemed the type."


    Caelith was silent for a long moment. Then¡ª


    "I was afraid."


    My breath caught.


    I turned to look at him, but he still wasn''t meeting my gaze. His hands rested on his knees, fingers curled slightly, like he was holding something invisible.


    "I have always been afraid," he said. "But I did not understand what it was."


    His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it. Something fragile.


    "I was born unwanted. A mistake. A Rein-Elf is not meant to exist. Our births are accidents, anomalies. Our parents do not wish for us. Our people do not claim us."


    A muscle in his jaw tightened.


    "My mother did not want me."


    He said it like it was nothing. Like it was a fact, not a wound.


    "But she kept me long enough to teach me one thing," he continued. "That emotions are weaknesses. That I should not have them. That I should not be able to feel them."


    He exhaled slowly.


    "She was wrong."


    The words hung in the air between us.


    Caelith finally turned his head, meeting my gaze for the first time.


    "I do not know what my emotions are," he admitted. "But I know what fear is. I have felt it all my life."


    I swallowed hard, my throat tight.


    He looked back at the trees.


    "But when you took me in, the fear lessened." He tilted his head slightly. "That is why I thank you."


    I stared at him, my thoughts tangled, raw.


    For a long moment, neither of us spoke.


    Then, finally¡ªI exhaled.


    The tension in my chest loosened, just slightly.


    I wasn''t okay.


    Not yet.


    But maybe¡­ maybe I didn''t have to be.


    Not alone.


    I pushed myself up, my limbs sore, my hands aching. "Come on," I muttered, nodding toward the camp. "Let''s go back."


    Caelith studied me for a second, then stood.


    We walked back in silence.


    The campfire flickered in the distance, a warm glow against the darkness. The quiet hum of voices drifted through the air¡ªsoft, subdued, nothing like the energy that had once filled our group. I slowed as we neared the clearing, my heartbeat steady but my mind still raw from everything that had happened.


    Caelith walked beside me in his usual silence, his expression unreadable as ever, but for once, it didn''t bother me.


    Because I knew now.


    He felt more than he let on.


    He was just like me, in his own way.


    I swallowed, steeling myself before stepping back into the firelight.


    Carmen sat on a log, arms folded, staring into the flames like they owed her money. Nikita stood with his hands on his hips, tense and quiet. Amina sat with her legs crossed, sharpening a crude knife against a flat stone, her movements slow and methodical. Daisuke had his head tilted back, staring at the night sky as if it would give him answers.


    No one spoke.


    Not until they saw me.


    Carmen was the first to react.


    Her head snapped toward me, her brown eyes narrowing. In one smooth motion, she stood, crossed the space between us, and grabbed my wrists.


    Her grip was firm¡ªnot crushing, not aggressive, just steady.


    But then her fingers tightened.


    I didn''t realize what she was doing until I followed her gaze.


    Her expression changed the moment she saw my hands. The skin on my knuckles was raw, torn open in some places, dried blood caking my fingers. Some of it had smeared onto my sleeves.


    "What the hell did you do?"


    Her voice was quiet¡ªtoo quiet.


    I pulled my hands back instinctively, but she didn''t let go.


    Carmen never looked worried. Annoyed? Sure. Pissed off? Always. But right now, the crease between her brows wasn''t irritation¡ªit was something else.


    Something that made my throat tighten.


    I opened my mouth, unsure of what excuse I was about to pull out of my ass, but she was already moving.


    She pulled a strip of cloth from her belt¡ªprobably meant for bandages¡ªand wrapped it around my hands without a word.


    Her fingers were warm against my skin. Precise. Careful.


    I could have pulled away. I should have.


    But I didn''t.


    She tied the knot a little too tight and exhaled, shaking her head.


    "You''re a fucking idiot," she muttered, but her voice wasn''t sharp.


    I forced out a weak laugh. "You''re not the first person to tell me that today."


    Carmen didn''t smile.


    She just held onto my hands for a second longer, her thumb brushing over the edge of the bandage.


    Then she let go.


    Nikita sighed, shaking his head. "Holy shit, man. You look like you got into a fight with a tree and lost."


    I snorted. "It was a close match, but I think I won on points."


    "Sure." He rolled his eyes but didn''t push further.


    Amina flicked her gaze toward me, her expression neutral. "You know you don''t have to deal with everything alone, right?"


    Something in my chest twisted, but I didn''t know what to say.


    Daisuke, who had been unusually quiet, finally lowered his head from staring at the sky. He adjusted his glasses. "There are, better ways to handle stress than punching inanimate objects."


    I groaned. "Daisuke, I swear to God¡ª"


    "¡ªI''m just saying."


    I shook my head, exhaling. The tension in my shoulders eased, just a little.


    Carmen sat back down, stretching her legs toward the fire. She didn''t look at me when she spoke.


    "Next time you need to hit something, let me know."


    I raised an eyebrow. "¡­You volunteering to get punched?"


    She rolled her eyes. "No, dumbass. I mean, if you wanna throw punches, train properly. Not whatever self-destructive bullshit you just pulled."


    I stared at her, but she just threw another stick into the fire and leaned back against her elbows.


    The flames crackled, sending embers into the sky.


    For a long moment, no one spoke.


    The weight in my chest hadn''t disappeared. The exhaustion still clawed at me, the doubts still whispered in the back of my mind.


    But for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn''t drowning in it.


    I glanced around the fire¡ªat Nikita, who had somehow become one of the strongest warriors in Seatown. At Amina, who always kept her cool no matter what. At Daisuke, who annoyed the hell out of me but still somehow made things feel normal. At Carmen, whose presence was like a fire itself¡ªburning, untamed, but warm when you stood close enough.


    And finally¡ªat Caelith, who sat slightly apart from the rest, his silver eyes reflecting the firelight, his expression unreadable.


    We were all different. Messed up in our own ways.


    But we were here.


    Together.


    I exhaled, my fingers brushing over the bandages Carmen had wrapped around my hands.


    For the first time in a long, long while¡ª


    I felt it.


    A beautiful emotion.


    Named love.

 Chapter 17:Diplomacy

    The morning air was crisp, the kind that usually jolted me awake. But today, it felt heavy, suffocating. As if the entire weight of yesterday''s humiliation still lingered in the air. I sat at the edge of the campfire, watching the embers crackle and spit, feeling the rough wooden seat dig into my back.


    Around me, the others were stirring. Amina stretched her arms with a low groan, Daisuke rubbed his temples as if piecing together his usual over-analysis of events, and Caelith sat eerily still, his silver eyes reflecting the dancing flames. Carmen, however, was already standing, arms crossed, tapping her foot against the dirt with a restless impatience.


    "Alright, boss," she said, her voice cutting through the morning quiet like a blade. "What''s the plan?"


    I blinked at her. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. What the hell the plan?


    Silence stretched between us, thick and unbearable. Carmen stared, waiting for an answer, while the others turned their heads toward me, their expressions expectant.


    I inhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face. "I have no fucking clue."


    Carmen rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might pass out. "Great. Fantastic. I love that for us."


    Amina shifted beside me. "Maybe we should talk to Lydia first. See what our options are."


    Carmen scoffed. "Oh yeah? Talk? Like what we did yesterday? Real productive, huh?" She threw up her hands and took a step back. "Nah, screw that. I''ll handle this myself."


    The instant she turned toward the building, alarm bells went off in my head. "Carmen¡ªwait¡ª"


    Too late.


    She was already marching across the square, a woman on a warpath. Her braids bounced with every aggressive step, her fists clenched like she was about to start swinging at the first person who dared to look at her the wrong way.


    "Oh fuck," I muttered, shoving myself up and scrambling after her. "Carmen, wait!"


    She didn''t wait. Of course, she didn''t fucking wait.


    By the time I caught up, she had already shoved open the doors of the grand meeting hall.


    Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The wooden walls and vaulted ceiling gave the room a grand presence, but the faces that turned toward us were anything but welcoming. Representatives of every race sat around a long, polished table¡ªElves with unreadable expressions, Dwarves stroking their beards, Human leaders leaning forward with mild irritation. Lydia sat toward the middle, composed but visibly weary.


    Then, there was Carmen.


    She stepped right into the center of the room, arms spread wide, a smirk that was more of a challenge playing on her lips.


    "Alright, you pompous, arrogant, inbred sons of bitches, listen up."


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    I swear I heard someone choke on their drink.


    Lydia shut her eyes as if she was already mentally preparing to disown us. Nikita, sitting amongst the human representatives, exhaled sharply¡ªthen, to my utter disbelief, I saw the faintest trace of a grin twitch at the corner of his mouth.


    A Dwarf sputtered into his beard. A High Elf lifted a delicate brow. Someone whispered a horrified, "What did she just say?"


    Carmen didn''t even hesitate. She started pacing the room like a goddamn lion.


    "Let''s go down the list, shall we? ¡ªbig, loud, and tough as hell. Except, what have you actually done besides sit in your little mountain forts, polishing your axes and sniffing ale? Oh wait, sorry¡ªdid I offend the of self-importance?"


    The Dwarven leader''s jaw twitched. His beard bristled. "You are testing dangerous waters, girl."


    "Oh, I''m just getting started," she shot back. Then, she spun on her heel to face the Elves.


    " Tall, pretty, elegant as hell, and absolutely useless in a crisis. You think you''re better than us? Guess what, pointy ears, we''re all stuck in the same fucking nightmare. You act like you have some grand authority, but let''s be real¡ªyou''re just as lost as the rest of us."


    Gasps. Pure gasps filled the hall.


    I buried my face in my hands.


    But Carmen wasn''t finished.


    "And ¡ªoh, let''s talk about you!" She whirled around, pointing at the human representatives, who were shifting uncomfortably. "You guys sit around playing politics while people are You act like this is some fucking chess game when it''s on the board. You think Dragontown is a joke? Let''s see who''s laughing when we''re still standing and you''re all kissing our ass for help."


    Silence.


    A sharp, crackling silence.


    Lydia''s face was unreadable. The Elves looked like they wanted to stab her on the spot. The Dwarves muttered among themselves. One of the human leaders¡ªan older man with deep frown lines¡ªleaned forward and asked slowly, "Are you quite done?"


    Carmen smiled.


    "Oh, not yet," she said, and then dropped the nuclear bomb.


    "By the way, we found an ancient ruin in Dragontown. And guess what? There''s a fucking dragon inside."


    Absolute


    The table erupted in noise. Shouting, gasping, disbelief. Even the calmest representatives lost their composure. Lydia''s eyes widened a fraction. The Dwarves exchanged sharp glances. The Elves sat stiff as statues. Even Nikita''s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise.


    Carmen watched it all unfold, arms crossed, the smuggest fucking look on her face.


    "You''re lying," someone accused.


    She shrugged. "Yeah? Try me."


    The shouting intensified. The room was spiraling into madness. And just as they started demanding answers¡ª


    Carmen turned for the door and, without looking back, threw over her shoulder, "You can all go fuck yourselves. We''re done here."


    Then she walked out.


    I stood there,


    No one moved. Not the Elves, not the Dwarves, not the humans.


    And then, Nikita¡ª¡ªactually let out a


    The ride back was silent. The landscape stretched ahead of us, open fields, winding dirt roads, rolling hills that should have been peaceful. But my mind was a storm. We had no allies. No political standing. We were on our own.


    No one spoke for the longest time. Even Carmen, who had just half the continent, kept quiet. Amina''s hands were tight on her reins, Daisuke was lost in thought, Caelith as unreadable as ever.


    The wind howled. The trees whispered. The road stretched on.


    And then, finally, I muttered the only truth left:


    "So we are now on our fucking own."

 Chapter 18:Companions

    Three weeks had passed since we left Topolin.


    Dragontown had changed.


    At first, everything had been a mess. The return from Topolin had been nothing short of a disaster. People were furious¡ªfurious at us, at Carmen, at the fact that we had apparently made fools of ourselves in front of every major leader on this continent. The rumors spread like wildfire. Some thought we had ruined Dragontown''s reputation forever. Others didn''t care, focused only on their next meal or the next building that needed to go up. For days, tension ran high, and more than once, I thought someone might actually challenge Carmen''s leadership.


    But things had settled.


    The ruins we had discovered had turned out to be a blessing. The raw materials, the ancient metals, the strange, sturdy stone¡ªall of it had been salvaged and repurposed. The first actual weapons and armor had been forged. The dirt paths had been reinforced with stone and compacted earth. Houses had been rebuilt stronger, and the first semblance of a main street had begun to form. Some people even started setting up market stalls, trading whatever they could. It still wasn''t much, but Dragontown was no longer just a camp¡ªit was something real.


    I should have felt proud. I didn''t.


    I had spent the past weeks helping wherever I could¡ªmostly organizing supplies, making sure people had what they needed. Today, though, I was just another pair of hands in the forge, hammering away at a piece of scrap metal until it vaguely resembled something useful. The heat made my shirt stick to my back, and my arms ached from swinging the hammer all morning. It was mindless work, and that was exactly what I needed.


    "Aleks!" Amina''s voice cut through the clanging of metal. I turned to see her standing by the entrance, arms crossed, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. "You look like you''re about to pass out."


    I wiped my forehead with my sleeve. "Yeah, well, standing next to molten metal all day will do that to you."


    She smirked. "Come with me. I need a second pair of hands."


    I hesitated. "Depends. Am I going to regret saying yes?"


    "Absolutely."


    I sighed but set my hammer down and followed her outside, stretching my sore muscles. The fresh air was a relief after hours in the forge. The streets of Dragontown were busier than ever¡ªpeople carrying wood, stacking supplies, talking in clusters about the latest work assignments. It looked almost¡­ functional.


    "What''s this about?" I asked as we wove through the crowd.


    Amina shrugged. "Nothing crazy. Just thought you could use a change of scenery."


    I narrowed my eyes. "Bullshit. You never do anything without a reason."


    "Fine," she admitted. "You''re avoiding people. It''s annoying."


    I scoffed. "I''m not avoiding people. I''m just¡­ staying busy."


    "Right. That''s why I haven''t seen you talk to Carmen or Daisuke in days."


    I frowned. "That''s not¡ª"


    Before I could finish, a commotion erupted near the southern entrance of the town. A handful of people stopped what they were doing, their heads turning toward the noise. The sound of horses'' hooves against the dirt grew louder, and I could see dust kicking up in the distance.


    I exchanged a glance with Amina. "What the hell now?"


    We pushed through the growing crowd just in time to see them¡ªriders, a dozen at least, dressed in armor that was a little too polished for a place like this. And at the front of them¡ªLydia.


    Beside her, in full military gear, sat Nikita.


    I barely had time to process that before Carmen stormed past me, making a beeline for Lydia. "Oh, hell no," she muttered under her breath. I reached out, grabbing her arm before she could make a scene.


    "Not this time," I said.


    She scowled at me. "The last time we let her talk first, we got humiliated."


    "Yeah. And if we do the same shit now, it''ll just happen again."


    Carmen huffed but stayed still, arms crossed as Lydia and her soldiers dismounted. She scanned the gathered crowd before her eyes landed on me. There was something different in her expression¡ªless arrogance, more¡­ something else.


    Regret? Doubtful.


    "I need to speak to Dragontown," she announced.


    The murmuring started immediately. Some people muttered insults under their breath. Others looked confused. A few seemed hopeful.


    Lydia stepped onto the old election platform, where Carmen had won weeks ago. She let the noise die down before she spoke.


    "We were wrong about you."


    The words were unexpected. A few people gasped. Carmen stiffened beside me.


    Lydia continued, her voice steady. "We saw Dragontown as a temporary problem. A gathering of lost people trying to play civilization. But in the past weeks, you''ve proven otherwise." She gestured around. "This isn''t just a settlement. It''s something real."


    The people around me didn''t know how to react. Some looked almost smug. Others skeptical.


    "But," Lydia went on, her tone sharpening, "this doesn''t change what''s coming."


    Silence.


    "The attack is only three months away. And when it comes, there won''t be time for debates or negotiations. It will either be us¡ªor them."


    I swallowed hard. The weight of her words pressed against my chest.


    "That''s why we''ve agreed to a solution," she said. "At the center of this continent, a military camp is being built. Any who wish to fight can go there and receive real training. Fighters, tacticians, strategists¡ªanyone who can contribute to the war effort."


    A few voices called out questions, but she cut them off.


    "Make no mistake. If we lose this fight, everything you''ve built here will be gone." She looked straight at me then. "Your city. Your people. Your lives. Gone."


    I clenched my fists.


    Lydia took a breath before finishing. "So, for those willing to fight¡ªfor those who refuse to let this world be taken¡ªyou''re welcome to join us. We leave at sunrise."


    Silence stretched across Dragontown. People exchanged nervous glances, whispers rising between them. Some looked hesitant. Others seemed ready to move already.


    And then, without thinking, I stepped forward.


    "I''m coming with you."


    The words left my mouth before I could fully register them.


    Carmen spun toward me. "What?"


    I exhaled. "I can''t keep pretending this doesn''t matter. I need to learn how to fight. I need to be ready."


    Caelith''s voice followed almost immediately. "I will go as well."


    Murmurs spread through the crowd. More people were stepping forward, hesitant but determined.


    Lydia nodded. "Then be ready. Tomorrow, we march."


    And just like that, everything changed again.


    After that I moved through the streets, the dirt roads packed firmer now from constant foot traffic. The crude wooden houses had been reinforced, some even boasting makeshift second floors. Fires flickered in the distance, casting long shadows of people moving between them, faces half-illuminated by the orange glow. It looked like a real settlement now, something permanent.


    It almost felt like home.


    Almost.


    As I approached the town center, I caught sight of Carmen standing near the raised wooden platform that had been used for the elections. She was speaking with a small group of people, gesturing with her usual confidence. Even in the dim light, her dark brown eyes held that sharp intensity, and the firelight caught strands of her wavy black hair, making them shimmer with hints of auburn.


    I hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.


    She noticed me immediately, excusing herself from the group before making her way over. "Took you long enough," she said, crossing her arms.


    I leaned against the wooden railing of the platform, letting out a slow breath. "So¡­ what now?"


    Carmen exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "That''s what I wanted to talk about." Her voice lowered slightly, growing more serious. "Come with me. We need to figure some things out."


    Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten. I didn''t ask questions¡ªI just followed.


    She led me toward one of the sturdier buildings near the center of town, a place she had claimed as a meeting house for anything important. Inside, a wooden table sat in the middle, covered in scattered notes, a rough map of Dragontown, and a few simple tools. A lantern flickered in the corner, casting soft, shifting light across the room.


    Carmen leaned against the table, arms crossed. "Alright, let''s be real here. We have no fucking clue what we''re doing."


    I blinked. "Wow, what an inspiring speech."


    She rolled her eyes. "Shut up. You know what I mean. We got lucky, Aleks. We made Dragontown work, but we''re barely hanging on. We don''t have proper defenses, our food supply is unpredictable, and now we''ve got entire cities and kingdoms looking down on us like we''re kids playing pretend."


    She wasn''t wrong.


    Carmen tapped the table, her fingers drumming against the rough wood. "We need a plan. A real one. Not just ''build some walls and hope for the best.'' If we want this place to survive long-term, we need to start thinking like leaders. Like we''re actually building something bigger than ourselves."


    I stayed quiet for a moment. Then, reluctantly, I nodded. "Fine. Where do we start?"


    Carmen smirked. "Now you''re talking."


    She leaned forward, pointing at the map. "First off, we need to reinforce our borders. The last thing we need is some desperate group trying to raid us because they think we''re easy pickings. We also need to figure out trade. We''ve been getting by with what we scavenge, but if we want Dragontown to be a real city, we need connections. The United Ones are a good start, but we need more than that."


    I watched her as she spoke, her expression sharp and determined. The way she carried herself, the way she thought things through¡ªit was impossible not to admire it. And maybe that was part of the problem.


    I realized then that I''d been staring too long.


    Carmen raised an eyebrow. "What?"


    I quickly looked away. "Nothing. Just¡­ thinking."


    She snorted. "You? Thinking? That''s a rare sight."


    "Fuck off," I muttered, but there was no heat behind it.


    She chuckled before her expression turned serious again. "We''ll go over details later, but there''s one more thing I need to say."


    I glanced at her, waiting.


    Carmen hesitated. Just for a second. Then she placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Don''t do anything stupid out there, alright? I know why you''re going, but don''t let this turn into some self-sacrificial bullshit."


    I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "I''m not planning on dying."


    "You better fucking not," she said, then¡ªbefore I could react¡ªshe pulled me into a quick hug.


    It caught me off guard. The warmth of it. The way she held on for just a second longer than necessary.


    Then she pulled away, clearing her throat. "Alright, get lost before I start thinking you actually have feelings."


    I forced a smirk, even though my heart was doing something weird in my chest. "Wouldn''t want that."


    She gave me one last glance before turning back to the table, already focused on something else.


    I left before I could say something stupid.


    By the time I made it back outside, the air felt cooler. The night had deepened, and the fires around town burned low.


    I had one more stop to make.


    The others were waiting for me near the outskirts of Dragontown¡ªAmina, Daisuke, even Nikita. A small fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows on their faces.


    Amina was the first to notice me. She smiled slightly, tilting her head. "Took your time."


    "Had to listen to Carmen yell at me first."


    Daisuke smirked. "Statistically speaking, that sounds about right."


    I rolled my eyes and sat down.


    For a while, none of us spoke. We just sat there, watching the fire, feeling the weight of what was coming.


    Finally, Amina broke the silence. "So¡­ this is it, huh?"


    I exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Guess so."


    No one really knew what to say.


    Then, to my surprise, Nikita was the one to speak next. "You''ll be fine. Training''s brutal, but it''s what we need."


    I looked at him, his face serious in the firelight. "You''re coming too, huh?"


    He nodded. "Yeah. Seatown''s sending people. We don''t have a choice if we want to survive."


    I leaned back, staring up at the night sky. "Seems like none of us do."


    There was a quiet moment before Amina shifted closer, resting a hand on my arm. "Just¡­ don''t forget to come back, alright?"


    I glanced at her. Then at Daisuke, who, for once, wasn''t making a joke.


    At Nikita, who was watching me with something that almost looked like respect.


    And at Carmen, who¡ªjust hours ago¡ªhad held onto me like she was afraid to let go.


    I took a breath, steadying myself. "I''ll come back."


    The words felt heavier than they should have.


    A promise.


    One I intended to keep. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The fire crackled low, its embers glowing like scattered stars in the dark. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of burning wood and damp earth. Shadows flickered across our faces, making everything feel strangely unreal. For the first time in months, I realized how much I was going to miss this¡ªjust sitting around, talking shit, pretending, even if just for a moment, that the world wasn''t falling apart.


    Amina sat cross-legged, arms resting on her knees, her usual sharp gaze softer than usual. "I still don''t get why you''re doing this," she muttered, staring into the fire.


    I exhaled, leaning back on my hands. "Because I have to."


    "That''s not an answer," she shot back. "None of us expected you to be the one leaving."


    I didn''t respond immediately. What was I supposed to say? That staying felt wrong? That for the first time since all of this began, I actually wanted something? That I couldn''t sit back and wait for the fight to come to us?


    Daisuke adjusted his glasses, watching me carefully. "You''ve always been more of a reactive person, Aleks. I never took you for someone who would make the first move."


    I scoffed. "Yeah, well, people change."


    "Do they?" His voice was thoughtful, almost teasing, but there was something serious in the way he looked at me. "Or are you just doing what you think you have to, because if you stop moving, everything catches up to you?"


    The fire popped, sending a small flare of sparks into the air.


    I swallowed, forcing out a chuckle. "Daisuke, are you secretly my therapist? Because if you are, I need a fucking refund."


    Amina rolled her eyes. "He has a point."


    I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Look, I don''t have a deep reason. I just¡ª" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "I need to be able to fight. To actually do something. Otherwise, what''s the point?"


    There was silence. Then, to my surprise, Amina reached over and lightly smacked my arm. "Fine. Just¡­ don''t be an idiot."


    Daisuke nodded. "And if you die, I''m calling dibs on your stuff."


    I snorted. "That''s comforting."


    Carmen, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, stretched out her legs and leaned back on her hands. "You''ll be fine," she said simply. "You always are."


    I glanced at her, trying to read her expression. It was relaxed¡ªtoo relaxed. Like she was deliberately keeping something back.


    I hesitated, then took a breath. "Carmen, I¡ª"


    Before I could finish, I heard a familiar laugh. Nikita.


    I turned just in time to see Carmen standing, walking toward him without hesitation. He grinned at her, saying something I couldn''t hear, and she responded with an easy laugh, the kind she never really used around me.


    I froze.


    Something twisted in my chest, cold and familiar.


    I shouldn''t be surprised. I wasn''t surprised.


    Still hurt like hell, though.


    I clenched my jaw, swallowing down whatever stupid words had been about to leave my mouth.


    "Some things never change," I muttered under my breath.


    Amina and Daisuke exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything. They didn''t have to.


    I forced a smirk. "Alright, I''m getting some sleep. Try not to cry too much when I''m gone."


    Daisuke scoffed. "We''ll be celebrating."


    Amina smirked. "I''ll throw a party."


    I flipped them both off and walked away before I could second-guess myself.


    Morning came faster than I wanted it to.


    The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a pale glow over the landscape. The town was quieter than usual¡ªmost people were still asleep, unaware that, in a few hours, I''d be gone.


    I stood near the town''s entrance, adjusting the straps on my pack, making sure everything was secure. Lydia''s soldiers were already prepared, their horses lined up and ready. Nikita stood among them, speaking with one of his men. Caelith, as always, was standing perfectly still, like a statue, his silver hair catching the morning light.


    I took a deep breath, glancing back toward the town one last time.


    I didn''t expect a dramatic farewell. I wasn''t even sure I wanted one.


    Climbing onto my horse, I settled into the saddle, gripping the reins. Lydia gave the signal, and one by one, we began to move.


    I didn''t look back.


    As Dragontown disappeared behind me, a single thought settled into my mind.


    We were on our own now.


    And whatever came next¡ªthere was no turning back.

 Chapter 19:Arrival at the War Camp

    The camp stretched before me, sprawling and alive with movement. Rows of sharpened wooden stakes formed a barrier around the perimeter, their jagged points warning off any potential threats. Beyond them, hundreds¡ªmaybe thousands¡ªof soldiers moved with purpose, training, sparring, carrying supplies, or shouting orders. The ground was a mixture of dry, compacted dirt and patches of churned-up mud from the countless boots that trampled it daily. The acrid scent of burning metal and sweat clung to the air, mixing with the distant aroma of something cooking over a fire.


    I adjusted my grip on the reins of my horse, scanning the camp as we approached the entrance. This was nothing like Dragontown. There were no half-built wooden huts, no people awkwardly figuring out how to live in this world. This was a machine¡ªorganized, disciplined, and prepared for war.


    Lydia rode ahead, her posture straight as always, her expression unreadable. Behind me, Nikita seemed unfazed, his eyes moving methodically across the camp, taking in every detail like he was already formulating strategies in his head. Cealith, on the other hand, barely reacted. He simply observed, his silver eyes flicking from one group of soldiers to another, showing no sign of interest or concern.


    We passed through the gates, and immediately, eyes turned toward us. Not in the way that people in Dragontown had looked at me¡ªcurious, sometimes admiring. No, here it was different. Here, it was evaluation.


    "New recruits," someone muttered.


    "Another batch of dead men walking."


    A few soldiers smirked as we rode past, their gazes lingering on Nikita and me longer than I liked. I caught pieces of conversation¡ªmentions of raids, missing patrols, creatures appearing in the night.


    My stomach tensed. Nobody told us that was happening.


    I thought we still had time.


    Lydia pulled on her reins, slowing her horse as we reached a large clearing near the center of the camp. A massive wooden building stood ahead, larger and more solidly built than anything else here, with a thick canvas roof and banners hanging from its frame. The symbol of the united forces¡ªa crude mix of human, elven, dwarven, and orcish emblems intertwined¡ªfluttered lightly in the wind.


    She dismounted smoothly, landing with a soft thud before turning to us.


    "This is where we part ways," she said.


    I frowned. "What?"


    She gave me a look that made me feel like a child being told to sit still. "I have my own duties. I didn''t bring you here to babysit you."


    Nikita swung off his horse, adjusting the sword at his waist. "Then why did you bring us?"


    Lydia exhaled, looking between the two of us. "Because like it or not, we all have the same enemy. And we need everyone who''s willing to fight. Even if they''re¡­" Her gaze flickered to me. "Too young to be here."


    I crossed my arms. "Right. Great vote of confidence."


    "I''m not here to make you feel better," she said flatly. "I''m here to make sure you don''t die. And if that means being blunt, then so be it."


    Her eyes softened¡ªonly slightly. "Survive. That''s all that matters."


    Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, her soldiers following behind her. I watched her disappear into the maze of tents and structures, leaving us standing there like idiots.


    Nikita clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Well, that was dramatic."


    I scowled and shrugged him off. "Let''s just get this over with."


    We headed toward the registration tent, dodging passing soldiers and supply wagons. Inside, the air was thick with heat and the scent of ink and sweat. Several long tables were set up, each occupied by grizzled officers and clerks scratching names onto thick, yellowed parchment. Some recruits stood in line, looking just as lost as I felt.


    We joined the queue, shifting uncomfortably as the sounds of shouting officers and clashing weapons echoed from outside. This place didn''t just train people¡ªit prepared them for something we hadn''t even begun to comprehend yet.


    I forced my thoughts down, focusing as we reached the front. The officer in front of me was an older man with graying stubble, a scar across his cheek, and the dead-eyed look of someone who had seen too much. He barely looked up as he spoke.


    "Name?"


    "Aleksander."


    His quill scratched against the parchment. "Age?" Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Sixteen."


    The quill stopped. His bloodshot eyes flicked up to meet mine.


    "You''re shitting me."


    I folded my arms. "What, you need me to bring a permission slip from my parents?"


    The soldier''s lips twitched slightly. "Tch. You should still be home, boy."


    My jaw clenched. That word¡ªhome. It stuck in my throat, tightening around my lungs. I forced it down and muttered, "Kinda hard when home doesn''t exist anymore."


    The officer studied me for a long moment, then sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. But don''t expect any special treatment. You''ll drop dead like the rest if you can''t keep up."


    He moved on to Nikita, glancing at his uniform and sword.


    "You''re eighteen?"


    "Yeah."


    The officer snorted. "You''re already a soldier?"


    Nikita didn''t hesitate. "More than you know."


    Something in his voice made the man pause, then nod slowly before writing his name down.


    "Fine. Go through that tent, pick up your training schedule, and find a bunk before sundown."


    As we stepped away, I let out a breath I hadn''t realized I was holding.


    "That could''ve gone worse."


    Nikita gave me a dry look. "It still might."


    Before I could respond, a sudden explosion of cheers erupted from outside. Loud, rhythmic chanting followed, accompanied by the sound of weapons clashing.


    Cealith turned his head slightly. "A fight."


    Nikita arched a brow. "Sounds like a big one."


    My curiosity got the better of me. "Let''s check it out."


    We pushed our way through the crowd, the energy thick with anticipation. The sparring ring was packed with soldiers, their cheers mixing with the metallic clang of weapons and the occasional grunt of pain. I caught glimpses of fighters inside the ring, most of them bloody, bruised, or flat-out unconscious.


    Then, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar.


    My eyes snapped to the center of the ring just in time to see a man standing over his fallen opponent, his sword lazily resting against his shoulder. He wasn''t breathing heavily. He wasn''t even sweating. He just stood there¡ªcompletely untouched, as if he hadn''t even tried.


    His opponent, on the other hand, lay motionless in the dirt, face-down, arms spread. The fight had lasted seconds.


    The victor turned, scanning the crowd with a grin that made me want to punch him for no reason.


    Antoine Leroux.


    I knew it before anyone even said his name. He had the look¡ªthe hero look. Blond hair that somehow wasn''t dirty despite being in a war camp, a flawless face like he''d been sculpted by the gods, and posture so perfectly controlled that even standing still looked graceful. The golden son of France. The perfect soldier.


    A soldier near me smirked. "That''s Antoine. The best fighter in camp. The one-man army."


    "The hero," someone else murmured in awe.


    I squinted. "This guy¡­ he''s like a main character or something."


    Cealith, standing next to me, observed silently before tilting his head. "He''s skilled."


    Antoine sheathed his sword and stepped out of the ring, nodding to the officer running the matches. The moment he was free, several women practically swarmed him. A few soldiers patted his back, others simply watched with a mixture of admiration and jealousy.


    It was disgusting.


    I felt an elbow nudge my ribs. Nikita leaned closer, grinning. "You jealous yet?"


    I scoffed. "I think I just threw up in my mouth."


    Antoine met my eyes for the briefest moment, and the smirk he gave me told me everything I needed to know. He didn''t see me as a threat. He probably didn''t even register me as anything beyond just another random soldier.


    Great.


    Before I could process my growing irritation, the atmosphere shifted.


    A new commotion rippled through the camp, this one different. Not excitement¡ªrespect.


    The legends had returned.


    The gates swung open, and they walked in.


    First came the archer.


    A woman, tall and elegant, her gold hair catching the light like moonlit silk. She carried a massive bow across her back, longer than she was tall, the wood dark and carved with intricate elven runes. Her emerald-green eyes scanned the camp, cold and calculating.


    Someone whispered, "Velana the Silver Arrow."


    The best archer alive. Supposedly, she never missed. The rumors said she was Antoine''s lover.


    Behind her, a monster of an orc strode in, towering over the others.


    His gray-green skin was covered in scars and war paint, his massive axe slung over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.


    "Gorvak, the Red Axe," Nikita muttered under his breath. "He''s famous for leading the most brutal raids against the Darkness."


    He looked the part.


    Then came the dwarf.


    Broad-shouldered, his beard thick and braided with golden rings, his knuckles looked harder than the steel around him. He wasn''t carrying a weapon¡ªbecause he didn''t need one.


    "Grimnir Stonefist," the soldier next to me whispered. "He once punched a wyvern so hard its skull caved in."


    That sounded like bullshit, but I wasn''t about to question it.


    A woman followed next¡ªtall, powerful, wielding a war hammer that looked like it could flatten a house.


    Her dark skin was marked with battle scars, her braided hair swaying slightly as she walked. Her presence alone commanded respect.


    "Basha Ironhand," someone murmured. "A blacksmith turned warrior. Nobody wields a hammer like she does."


    Then, a man cloaked in shadows.


    The Iron Ghost.


    A former knight from England, his face covered in old scars, one eye missing. Nobody knew his real name¡ªjust the stories. The man had fought through hell and survived.


    And last¡ª


    A reptilian figure, scales dark green, eyes sharp like a predator''s.


    Silass, the Scale Tyrant.


    Nobody spoke his name too loudly.


    They walked past us, silent, their presence enough to part the crowd. No words needed to be spoken.


    They were on a different level.


    And then¡ª


    The officer at the sparring ring called my name.


    Loud. Sharp. Impossible to ignore.


    I froze.


    "Wait, what? Why me?"


    The officer smirked. "You signed up, didn''t you?"


    My stomach dropped.


    "Time to see if you''re worth keeping alive."

 Chapter 20:First Blood

    The sun burned overhead, merciless and unrelenting. Dust kicked up with every step, coating my throat with a dry, gritty taste. The sparring ground was nothing more than a wide, open pit surrounded by wooden barricades, with soldiers¡ªboth seasoned and fresh¡ªgathered around to watch the evaluation matches.


    Some stood with arms crossed, analyzing every movement. Others whispered among themselves, betting on who''d collapse first. It felt like stepping into an arena, except no one was here for entertainment. This was a test. A reality check.


    And I was up next.


    A man with a clipboard¡ªone of the training officers¡ªlooked at the list, then called out, "Aleksander, you''re up. Sparring match against Miguel Ortega."


    I exhaled, stepping forward. Miguel was taller, broader, probably at least eighteen. His tanned skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he spun the wooden sword in his grip like it was an extension of his arm. His stance alone told me he''d fought before.


    I hadn''t.


    The officer didn''t waste time. "First bout. Objective: Test reflexes, endurance, and general fighting ability. Fight until someone gets incapacitated or surrenders. Got it?"


    Miguel nodded, rolling his shoulders. I did the same, my fingers tightening around my own wooden sword. It felt light in my hands, almost fragile. Like it didn''t belong there.


    The officer raised his hand. "Begin."


    Miguel moved instantly.


    I barely had time to lift my sword before the first blow slammed into my ribs. The dull thud of wood meeting flesh sent a shockwave through my body, knocking the wind out of me. I staggered back, coughing, my grip slipping for half a second.


    A half-second too long.


    Miguel followed up, striking my wrist, forcing my guard open. Then¡ªcrack¡ªa hit straight across my shoulder. My muscles screamed. I tried to pivot away, to reset my stance, but he was already there.


    He was faster. More precise. I was just reacting.


    I swung, desperate to create distance. It was sloppy. He dodged, stepped in, and drove the hilt of his sword into my gut.


    Pain exploded through me. My vision blurred. My knees buckled.


    I barely heard the officer''s voice over the ringing in my ears. "Match over."


    I knelt there, hunched over, trying to catch my breath. Blood dripped from my nose, mixing with the dirt beneath me.


    Miguel sighed, stepping back. "You''re tough, I''ll give you that." He held out a hand.


    I ignored it, pushing myself up on my own.


    The general overseeing the fights glanced at the clipboard and scribbled something down. He didn''t even need to think about it.


    "Helper unit," he said flatly.


    I clenched my jaw. "What?"


    "You''ll get some combat training, but you''re too inexperienced to be in the main force. You''ll assist with supplies, food, and camp maintenance."


    Support work. Like a fucking errand boy.


    The decision stung.


    I looked around. Some recruits were smirking. Others just nodded as if they''d expected it.


    My hands curled into fists. My ribs throbbed. I couldn''t even argue.


    The general turned. "Next up, Caelith."


    I stepped to the side, still dazed, as Cealith calmly walked into the ring. His silver-white hair caught the light, his movements almost unnervingly graceful. He didn''t look nervous. Didn''t fidget. Just stood there, completely still.


    I swallowed hard, wiping the blood from my nose. At least I wasn''t going to be the only one humiliated today.


    The crowd had settled, but there was a different kind of tension now¡ªa quiet, almost expectant energy hanging in the air. The last fight had been nothing impressive. Some recruits had shown promise, others had been just as bad as me. A few quit on the spot, realizing they had no business being here in the first place.


    But Cealith was next.


    I crossed my arms, still wincing as I shifted my weight. My ribs fucking hurt. The dried blood under my nose itched. I wiped at it again, watching as Cealith stepped forward.


    He moved like he was gliding. Not nervous. Not rushed. Completely still, yet somehow giving off the presence of a coiled spring.


    His opponent was a bulky guy from somewhere in Eastern Europe, maybe late teens, with a heavy stance and a clear weight advantage. He cracked his neck and gripped the wooden sword tight.


    Cealith didn''t even seem to care.


    The officer overseeing the fight barely raised his hand before dropping it. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Begin."


    The bigger recruit lunged first.


    Cealith just... moved.


    It wasn''t dramatic. No flashy dodges, no wasted movement. He simply wasn''t there anymore, his feet shifting with inhuman precision. His opponent''s wooden sword sliced through empty air, his overextended movement leaving his ribs wide open¡ª


    Crack.


    Cealith struck, clean and decisive, right in the exposed side.


    The crowd murmured. His opponent gritted his teeth, whipping around and charging again, but Cealith didn''t even blink. Another step, another simple parry, another counterattack.


    No wasted strength. No unnecessary effort.


    His opponent kept swinging wildly. Cealith just kept stepping aside, letting him make mistakes.


    And then, in one smooth motion, he shifted inside his opponent''s guard, lifted his sword¡ª


    And slammed the hilt into his jaw.


    The bigger guy hit the ground like a felled tree.


    Silence.


    Then¡ªmurmurs.


    "That was clean."


    "What the hell? Is he trained?"


    "That was like... Elven-level technique."


    I swallowed. I''d seen Cealith fight once before, but even then, it had been more like watching an animal react than an actual warrior. This? This was something else.


    The general overseeing the evaluation didn''t even need to think.


    "Standard Combat Unit," he called out.


    A few approving nods. Some mild surprise. But no arguments.


    Cealith simply blinked, nodded once, and stepped back. No emotion. No reaction.


    I exhaled slowly. At least one of us wasn''t a total embarrassment.


    More fights. More recruits proving themselves¡ªor proving they didn''t belong. I barely paid attention. My ribs still ached from earlier, and a dull pounding had settled behind my eyes.


    I kept glancing toward Cealith, who stood near the edge of the ring, completely unreadable. Not proud. Not smug. Just... watching.


    And then¡ª


    "Nikita Volkov."


    I looked up.


    Oh. Shit.


    The guy standing across from Nikita had the unfortunate look of someone who didn''t know he was about to get annihilated.


    The match began.


    It lasted ten seconds.


    Nikita moved once. A clean sidestep, a pivot, and then¡ª


    His opponent''s sword was gone.


    A heartbeat later, he was on the ground.


    The crowd barely even reacted before it was over.


    The general took one look at Nikita, exhaled sharply, and muttered something under his breath before marking his clipboard.


    "Elite Unit."


    And that was that.


    I sat there, watching them. Cealith. Nikita.


    They were somewhere else already.


    And me?


    I was still at the fucking bottom.


    The Helper Unit was exactly what I expected¡ªand worse. The barracks were smaller, the atmosphere heavier, and the people... well, they weren''t soldiers. Not really. It was clear from the way they moved, how they sat hunched over their meals, avoiding eye contact, speaking in quiet voices. Some were injured recruits who had already accepted they wouldn''t be fighting anytime soon. Others were too weak, too slow, or simply too afraid to handle combat. And then there were a few who just didn''t belong in a battlefield, no matter how desperate the war effort was.


    I dropped my bag on the nearest cot, scanning the room. Nobody looked up. There was no energy here, no drive. Just resignation.


    My fingers curled into fists. This was where they thought I belonged?


    I exhaled sharply, shoving my frustration down before it could boil over. Getting pissed off wouldn''t change anything. If I was stuck here, I might as well figure out what I was dealing with.


    I walked over to a group sitting in the corner. Three of them¡ªone older guy with gray in his hair, muttering to himself, and two younger ones, one of whom looked barely old enough to be here. The third caught my eye. Broad, round face. Thick glasses. Nervous posture. He looked about my age, maybe a little older, but the way he sat, shoulders slumped, made him seem smaller than he actually was.


    I cleared my throat. "Yo. Anyone here actually planning on doing something, or are we just gonna sit around waiting to die?"


    The older guy didn''t react. The kid flinched. But glasses looked up, blinking as if surprised someone was talking to him.


    "Uh¡­" He hesitated, pushing his glasses up. "I guess¡­ some of us are just trying to figure things out."


    I sat down across from him, ignoring the way the bench creaked under my weight. "Figure what out? You''re here. Either you fight, or you make yourself useful in other ways."


    His lips pressed together, like he was debating whether to say something or not. After a moment, he exhaled. "I didn''t expect to make it this far."


    I frowned. "What do you mean?"


    He hesitated again, then shook his head, more to himself than to me. "My name''s Lukas," he said finally. "I''m from Germany."


    I nodded, waiting for him to continue.


    "When¡­ when the Darkness came to Earth, my older brother saved me." His fingers clenched into his pants, knuckles turning white. "He got me out. But he¡­ he didn''t make it."


    The words hung in the air between us. He didn''t look up, just stared at the floor, his jaw tight.


    I leaned back slightly, processing that. I didn''t have siblings. I didn''t know what that kind of loss felt like. But guilt? Yeah. That was something I understood.


    "I shouldn''t be here," Lukas muttered. "He should be. He was strong. He knew how to fight. I''m just¡ª" He let out a humorless laugh. "I don''t even know why I''m trying."


    I studied him for a moment. The way his hands trembled slightly. The way he sat, like he wanted to disappear.


    And yet, he was here.


    "Sounds like bullshit to me," I said finally.


    His head snapped up, eyes widening behind his thick lenses. "W-what?"


    "You''re here, aren''t you?" I gestured at him. "You could''ve given up. Could''ve sat in some corner waiting to die. But you didn''t."


    Lukas swallowed, but didn''t argue.


    I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Look, I don''t know your brother. But I know this much¡ªif he was anything like you say, he wouldn''t want you sitting around acting like you don''t deserve to be alive."


    He stared at me, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then, slowly, he nodded.


    "I just¡­ don''t know if I can do this," he admitted.


    I shrugged. "Neither do I. But I guess we''ll find out."


    For the first time since I sat down, Lukas almost smiled.


    The rest of the day passed in a blur of mindless tasks.


    We cooked for the real fighters, which mostly meant chopping up whatever unholy mix of vegetables and dried meat they gave us and tossing it into a massive pot. I stirred the boiling mess with a wooden ladle that was probably older than I was, sweat dripping down my back from the heat. It smelled awful, but at least it was food.


    "This is demeaning," one of the other helpers muttered, wiping his forehead. "I didn''t come here to play house."


    Lukas, standing beside me, scoffed. "You think this is bad? Try actually messing it up. You don''t want to know what they did to the last guy who burned the stew."


    The guy paled slightly and shut up.


    I barely paid attention to the conversations around me. My mind was elsewhere.


    I was here to fight. To get stronger. Not to stir soup.


    By the time dinner was over, I was ready to scream. The fighters ate, barely acknowledging us. Some of them cracked jokes, laughing with their comrades, already forming bonds in a way we never would.


    And I was just¡­ here.


    I clenched my jaw. Fuck this.


    When the meal was done and the sky had turned a deep shade of blue, I slipped away, my feet moving on instinct. Away from the barracks. Away from the laughter. Away from everything.


    I needed to train.


    The air was cooler out here, a light breeze cutting through the trees at the camp''s edge.


    I rolled my shoulders, shaking out my arms, then picked up a wooden practice sword someone had left behind. It wasn''t much. But it was better than nothing.


    I took a stance, tightening my grip. Breathed in. Swung.


    The impact against a nearby wooden post stung. I grit my teeth and swung again.


    Harder.


    Faster.


    Again. Again.


    But no matter how much I hit, no matter how hard I tried¡ªit wasn''t enough.


    I could still hear them. The laughter. The judgment. The absolute certainty that I didn''t belong. That I''d never be more than a glorified errand boy. That I would never be strong enough to matter.


    I hated it.


    I slammed the sword against the post with everything I had. My arms ached, my breath came in ragged gasps, but I didn''t stop.


    I had to get stronger. I had to change.


    Or else¡­


    A voice in my head sneered. Or else what? You''ll always be weak. Always be useless.


    I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sword so tightly my knuckles turned white. No. Not this time.


    Then¡ª


    A sudden sound.


    A distant horn.


    I froze.


    A second later, the camp exploded into motion. Shouts rang out, boots thundered against the dirt.


    I turned toward the noise, my heart hammering.


    And then I heard the words that made my blood run cold.


    "Raid! Dark creatures spotted near the southwestern settlement!"


    My grip tightened on the sword.


    Before I could even process it, soldiers were rushing past me¡ªarmed, armored, moving with purpose. Among them, the Legends. Velana, her silver hair catching the moonlight. Gorvak, his massive axe resting on his shoulder. Antoine, his flawless face set in grim determination.


    This wasn''t a drill.


    And then¡ª


    A voice called out over the chaos. "We need a volunteer to carry supplies¡ªbandages, rations, medical kits. Someone from the Helper Unit."


    I didn''t think.


    Didn''t hesitate.


    Before I even knew what I was doing, I stepped forward.


    "I''ll do it."

 Chapter 21:No More

    The night was cold. The kind of cold that crept under armor and seeped into bones, quiet and merciless. My breath came out in faint clouds as we rode in silence, the only sounds the rhythmic stamp of hooves against dirt and the occasional creak of shifting leather.


    Ahead of me, the so-called Legends moved like they belonged in a different world.


    Antoine led at the front, his posture perfect, his gleaming silver armor catching the moonlight like it was sculpted for him and him alone. He rode with the confidence of someone who knew¡ªnot thought, but knew¡ªthat he was the strongest man here. That he was meant to be admired, envied, worshiped. And the worst part? Everyone knew it too.


    He turned slightly in his saddle, his smirk practically glowing in the dark as he glanced at Velana beside him.


    "Velana, did you see me take down that orc in the last training match? Pretty sure even you had to be impressed."


    Velana didn''t even glance at him. She sat straight-backed, poised, golden hair catching the faint glow of the torches some of the soldiers carried behind us.


    "If you talked less and fought more, I might be."


    Antoine grinned, completely unfazed.


    "You like me more than you let on."


    Velana exhaled slowly, a subtle sign of exasperation, but she didn''t take the bait. She simply adjusted her grip on the reins, letting her silence be answer enough.


    Behind them, Gorvak, the orc with scarred green skin and muscles thick as tree trunks, let out a low "Mhh." That was it. No opinion, no engagement, just the same deep, guttural noise he always made whenever Antoine ran his mouth.


    Grimnir, the broad-shouldered dwarf with his long braided beard, actually snorted. He rolled a gold coin between his fingers, flicking it with an ease that told me he did this a lot. Probably during battles too.


    "Boy," he muttered, not looking up, "if words were worth gold, you''d be the richest bastard in the world."


    Antoine just laughed.


    "Jealous, old man?"


    Grimnir didn''t answer. He just tucked the coin away and muttered something under his breath that I was sure was a curse.


    Basha, the woman with braided hair and the kind of presence that made her feel like the real leader here, turned in her saddle to look at me.


    "You good, darling?" she asked, her voice smooth and full of warmth. "You look like you''d rather be anywhere but here."


    I blinked, realizing I''d been too busy observing to actually hide how stiff I was in the saddle.


    "Just tired," I murmured.


    Basha raised a brow. "Mhm. Tired. That''s what they all say."


    I didn''t answer.


    She gave me a playful nudge on the shoulder before facing forward again. "Well, you''re here now. No turning back, sweetheart."


    I swallowed hard. Yeah. No turning back. That was the problem.


    The others didn''t acknowledge me. The entire group moved as if I wasn''t even there, talking amongst themselves, ignoring me entirely. I wasn''t one of them. And I could feel it, pressing against my skin like something physical, something I couldn''t shake off.


    I didn''t belong here.


    They knew it.


    I knew it.


    And yet, I was here anyway.


    Up ahead, the outline of the village came into view, barely more than a collection of skeletal wooden structures, half-built, abandoned, and silent.


    Too silent.


    I felt my stomach tighten.


    Something was wrong.


    The silence was the worst part.


    Not the emptiness of the village. Not the wind that curled through the broken beams of half-built houses. Not even the way my breath felt too loud in my own ears. It was the silence¡ªthe absolute absence of life¡ªthat made my skin crawl.


    No footprints. No scattered belongings. No bodies.


    Just¡­ nothing.


    Antoine dismounted first, boots crunching against the dirt as he stretched like he had just woken from a nap. His fingers brushed over the hilt of his sword, lazy, casual, like none of this was serious.


    "No one here," he mused, looking around like we had stumbled into a deserted vacation home. "Maybe they just killed themselves from the sheer terror of knowing we were coming."


    Velana, still atop her horse, let out a sharp breath, the kind that wasn''t quite a sigh but carried pure, unfiltered contempt.


    "Don''t be stupid," she muttered, scanning the rooftops with narrowed eyes. "The Darkness doesn''t leave survivors."


    Antoine just grinned, completely unfazed.


    "Maybe this time it did."


    Gorvak and Grimnir weren''t listening. The orc had already dismounted, his heavy frame making the wooden planks beneath him groan in protest. His battle axe rested lazily against one shoulder, a massive, jagged thing that looked like it could split a house in half. Grimnir, the dwarf, didn''t even bother to get off his horse. He sat there, twirling a coin in his fingers, completely uninterested.


    Basha and Iron Ghost moved toward the back alleys, their figures disappearing into the shadows as they secured the area. Silass, the reptilian general, walked ahead with his usual quiet precision, his golden eyes flickering in the darkness.


    And me?


    I stood there like an idiot, my pulse pounding in my throat, every instinct screaming at me that something was wrong.


    I didn''t belong here.


    This wasn''t Dragontown, where the worst threat was building a house that wouldn''t collapse in a strong breeze. This was war.


    A faint noise cut through the stillness.


    Not the wind.


    Not an animal.


    Something else.


    A scrape. A whisper. A sound that didn''t belong in any world that had light.


    Velana froze. Antoine''s grin flickered. Gorvak''s hand tightened around his axe.


    Then¡ªthey came.


    The darkness moved.


    Not like a shadow shifting from the clouds, but like something alive, something hungry. It poured out of the ruined houses, stretching, twisting, shifting into shapes that shouldn''t exist.


    No bodies. No flesh.


    Just burning white eyes in shifting blackness, crawling from the walls, the roofs, the earth itself.


    I couldn''t count them.


    Twenty? Thirty? More?


    And this was just a small group?


    Antoine''s grin returned, wider than before. Excited.


    "Oh, finally," he exhaled, unsheathing his sword in one fluid motion. "I was getting bored."


    Then, the fight began.


    Velana moved first. No wasted motion, no hesitation. She raised her bow, pulled the string, and loosed an arrow so fast I barely saw it.


    A perfect shot.


    Straight through one of the shadow creatures.


    It shrieked as it burned away, dissolving like ink in water.


    Antoine laughed. His blade flashed in the moonlight as he moved¡ªtoo fast, too effortless, slicing through the creatures like they were nothing.


    Gorvak and Grimnir? Immovable. The orc''s axe cleaved through the dark, tearing creatures in half with each swing. Grimnir fought differently¡ªlow, brutal, his hammer slamming into the ground, creating shocking waves of impact that sent the shadows splintering apart.


    Silass and Iron Ghost fought with no wasted effort, their blades cutting through the chaos like it was just another drill.


    And Basha?


    Basha was a storm.


    Her war hammer swung in massive arcs, smashing the creatures into oblivion, her movements wild and fearless.


    Me?


    I was frozen.


    I had my sword in hand, my breath stuck somewhere between my lungs and my throat, but I couldn''t fucking move.


    The others fought like this was routine.


    Like this was normal.


    But it wasn''t.


    This wasn''t normal. This wasn''t supposed to be real.


    I was supposed to be back home.


    I was supposed to be¡ª


    A shadow moved.


    Faster than the rest.


    Straight for me.


    I felt my muscles lock. I couldn''t react.


    It was too fast, too wrong, too much¡ª


    Then¡ª


    Something yanked me backward.


    Basha.


    She shoved me out of the way as the creature lunged.


    And in the same breath, the thing sank its claws straight into her chest.


    I heard the breath leave her body.


    I saw her eyes widen, just slightly. Not in fear. Not in pain. Just¡­ surprise.


    Then¡ªshe fell.


    Her hammer hit the ground with a sickening thud, heavier than anything I had ever heard.


    A second later, a flash of black steel tore through the battlefield¡ª


    Iron Ghost collapsed.


    A blade of pure darkness ripped through his torso, cutting him down in one clean motion.


    Two.


    Two of them were gone.


    Just like that.


    The fight ended seconds later. The shadows were destroyed, burned away, nothing left but the eerie silence once more.


    But it didn''t matter.


    Because Basha wasn''t moving.


    Iron Ghost wasn''t moving.


    Antoine stood over Basha''s body.


    His usual smile was gone.


    His face was cold.


    His gaze shifted¡ªslowly, deliberately¡ªto me.


    And for the first time since meeting him, I saw it.


    The mask cracked.


    His disgust.


    His hatred.


    His rage.


    I couldn''t move.


    Not because I was hurt¡ªthough I was. Every inch of my body felt like it had been through a shredder, my muscles screaming, my ribs aching with every shallow breath. But that wasn''t why.


    It was the way Antoine turned to face me, his expression shifting from the smug satisfaction of victory to something colder. Darker. There was no arrogance in his eyes anymore. Only rage.


    And he was looking straight at me.


    "That was your fucking fault."


    My blood ran cold.


    "Because of you¡ªshe''s dead."


    I barely had time to process the words before his fist collided with my face.


    A sharp crack. A flash of white pain bursting through my skull.


    The world tilted, my vision blurred, and before I could even stumble back, he grabbed my collar and yanked me off my feet. My hands clawed at his wrists, at his armor, but his grip was like iron.


    "Do you even know what you are?" His voice was low, trembling¡ªnot with grief, but with something else. Something worse.


    Hatred.


    "You''re a fucking parasite."


    I gasped, trying to form words, but the next punch knocked the breath right out of me.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Each blow drove deeper into my ribs, forcing the air from my lungs, each strike harder, angrier, more vicious than the last.


    My knees buckled, but he didn''t let me fall. He just kept hitting me.


    Pain blurred into pain.


    Blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic.


    Somewhere, distantly, I could hear someone moving, but nobody stopped him.


    He wasn''t just beating me.


    He was punishing me.


    For being weak. For being here. For existing.


    "We lost a legend," he snarled, his breath hot against my ear as he yanked me closer. "And for what? To save some useless fucking kid who should''ve died months ago?"


    I coughed, trying to say something¡ªanything¡ªbut the words drowned in the blood pooling on my tongue.


    Another fist slammed into my stomach.


    I folded over, wheezing, barely able to stay conscious.


    The next hit came before I could even try to breathe.


    Then¡ªhis hands were gone.


    A sharp movement. A shift in the air.


    Velana had stepped in.


    She stood between us, her grip firm around Antoine''s raised wrist.


    "Enough."


    Her voice wasn''t loud, but it cut through the chaos like a blade.


    Antoine froze, his breathing ragged. Then, slowly, his lips curled back into something that might''ve been a smirk¡ªif there had been any humor left in him.


    He wrenched his arm free.


    And then he hit her.


    A quick, sharp backhand to the face.


    Velana''s head snapped to the side, her golden hair whipping around her shoulders. She stumbled back, catching herself, her fingers pressing against her cheek where his gauntlet had struck.


    Silence.


    The kind that suffocated. The kind that made the air feel heavier, thicker, impossible to breathe.


    Nobody moved.


    Not even Grimnir, who just let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Boy thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants."


    Antoine exhaled sharply, shaking the tension from his shoulders before spitting onto the dirt beside me.


    "Leave him." His voice was calmer now, almost detached. Like he was done. Like I wasn''t worth another second of his time.


    "If he''s worth anything, he''ll get back up."


    Then¡ªthey turned and walked away.


    The world spun.


    Pain throbbed through every inch of me, dull and crushing, and for a moment, all I could do was lay there.


    The dirt was cold against my cheek.


    The taste of blood lingered in my mouth.


    My ears rang.


    They were leaving.


    And they didn''t care.


    Not about me.


    Not about what just happened.


    Not about anything.


    A sharp breath rattled in my chest. My fingers twitched against the ground.


    And then¡ªI felt it.


    Cold steel beneath my fingertips.


    A sword.


    It must''ve been one of the fallen weapons, discarded in the fight, half-buried in the dirt next to me.


    Slowly, I curled my hand around the hilt.


    The metal was solid. Real.


    I swallowed, forcing down the taste of copper.


    Then¡ªI pushed myself up.


    My vision swam.


    My limbs felt like they were filled with lead.


    But I stood.


    And before I could think¡ªbefore the pain, the fear, the exhaustion could stop me¡ªI raised the sword and pointed it at Antoine''s back.


    "No."


    He paused.


    The others did too.


    All of them turned¡ªsome amused, some indifferent.


    Antoine''s gaze flicked over me, unimpressed. Like I was a stain on his boot.


    I swallowed hard.


    My throat burned. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My body shook.


    But I didn''t lower the sword.


    I held my ground.


    Antoine scoffed, tilting his head. "You serious, kid?"


    I clenched my jaw. I could barely stand, but I refused to look weak.


    Antoine laughed, shaking his head. "You''re pathetic. You really think you can stand against me? After that?"


    I licked the blood off my lips, my breath ragged, and spat onto the ground between us.


    "I don''t give a fuck."


    His grin twitched. "Excuse me?"


    "You heard me, asshole."


    I adjusted my grip on the sword. My arms screamed, my ribs burned, but I didn''t drop it.


    "You think you can just beat the shit out of me and walk away? Like I''m nothing? Like I don''t fucking exist?"


    I took a step closer, and despite everything¡ªdespite how much my body was failing¡ªI forced a smirk onto my face.


    "Come on, Golden Boy. Fight me."


    Antoine stared at me for a long moment.


    Then¡ªhe laughed.


    Loud. Mocking. Like I had just told the dumbest joke in existence.


    "You really wanna die that badly?"


    I didn''t answer.


    I just raised the sword higher.


    His smirk faded.


    Slowly, Antoine stepped forward, drawing his own blade with an almost leisurely movement. The steel glinted under the moonlight.


    "You want a fight?" His voice dropped lower, quieter. Dangerous.


    "Fine."


    He lifted his sword¡ªand pointed it straight at me.


    "Let''s see how much of a man you really are."

 Chapter 22:Ash Beneath My Feet

    I didn''t move.


    I couldn''t. Not because I was afraid¡ªnot exactly. Not because I was weak¡ªthough, let''s be real, I was¡ªbut because everything inside me had just¡­ stopped. Like someone had pulled a wire in my chest and disconnected whatever was keeping me together. I stood there, frozen, sword still raised, lungs barely working, mouth dry as sand.


    Antoine''s blade hovered inches from mine.


    He could''ve ended it.


    He didn''t.


    He just looked at me. Not with pity. Not with fear. Not even with anger anymore.


    Just disgust.


    His sword lowered slowly. His shoulders rolled back like he was bored. Then he sheathed the blade with a smooth, almost lazy motion.


    "You''re not worth the edge."


    That was all he said. No shouting. No threats. Just that flat dismissal.


    He turned around and walked away like it didn''t matter.


    Because to him¡ªit didn''t.


    Velana lingered. Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and unreadable. I thought maybe she''d say something. Maybe a warning. Maybe nothing at all.


    She said nothing.


    Grimnir gave me a glance that felt heavier than steel. Then he grunted, turned his back, and followed.


    Gorvak didn''t even look.


    The sound of their boots faded into the dirt. I stayed where I was, my sword still raised like a fucking idiot, shaking from the inside out.


    The moment they were gone, everything cracked.


    My knees hit the ground before I realized I was falling. The sword dropped beside me with a dull clang, my hands trembling, breath catching in my throat like I was choking on air.


    I didn''t cry.


    I wanted to.


    God, I wanted to.


    But there was nothing left.


    No tears. No rage. No strength.


    Only silence.


    My hands dug into the dirt. The ground felt warm, dry, gritty. Real. Too real.


    And yet¡­ everything else was spinning.


    I forced myself to breathe. Slow. Shaky. Just to get my heart to stop punching its way out of my chest.


    Somewhere in the distance, someone called my name.


    I didn''t answer.


    I just stared at the ground and wished I was anywhere else.


    We rode back in silence.


    No one spoke. Not even Antoine.


    That was the worst part.


    Nobody looked at me. Not one of them. I was there, riding in the back, a bruised, broken mess clinging to my saddle while my body screamed at me to just fall off and be done with it. But no one cared. Not Grimnir. Not Velana. Not Gorvak.


    Especially not Antoine.


    When we reached the outer gates of the fortress, I saw the crowd.


    Dozens¡ªno, hundreds¡ªof people were waiting. Soldiers. Recruits. Workers. Officers. They lined the courtyard like they were expecting a victory march. Some had torches. Some just stood there, arms crossed, faces tight with anticipation.


    And then they saw us.


    The gate guards opened the doors without a word. We passed through in a slow, steady formation.


    But the crowd¡ªsomething shifted.


    You could feel it, like a drop in temperature. A shudder running through them as their eyes scanned the group and realized what wasn''t there.


    Basha.


    Iron Ghost.


    Gone.


    It didn''t take long for the whispers to start.


    "Where are the others?"


    "Wait, wasn''t Iron Ghost¡ª?"


    "They''re not all back."


    "Where''s Basha?"


    "Where is she?"


    And then the panic hit.


    It didn''t explode. It . Like smoke. Like poison in the air.


    Some people backed away. Others started talking over each other, voices rising, overlapping. I saw a young recruit turn pale, like he was about to be sick. Someone dropped a canteen.


    The realization was setting in: two of the strongest people in the entire army were dead.


    And not in some grand war. Not during a major battle.


    In a fucking .


    A small group. A routine mission.


    They were gone.


    And we were back.


    Barely.


    The commanding officer stepped forward. A tall man with sharp cheekbones and eyes like frost. He looked straight at Antoine.


    "What happened?"


    Antoine didn''t answer at first. He dismounted slowly, brushing dust from his armor like the question didn''t even matter.


    Then his eyes drifted¡ªbriefly¡ªto me.


    My gut clenched.


    I thought he''d say it.


    Thought he''d point a finger and tell them the truth.


    That it was my fault.


    That I froze. That I didn''t fight. That someone had to die because I wasn''t strong enough.


    But he didn''t.


    He just said, flatly, "We were ambushed. It was coordinated. They knew we were coming."


    The officer''s jaw tightened.


    "Two of our best. Gone."


    Antoine nodded once. "They didn''t go quietly."


    And that was it.


    He walked past the man like the conversation was over. Velana followed. Grimnir too. Gorvak stayed back a second, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on me for the first time.


    Just for a second.


    Then he turned and left.


    No more questions.


    No more answers.


    Only silence.


    And fear.


    So much fear.


    Because if could die¡ªif the Legends weren''t invincible¡ªwhat chance did the rest of us have?


    I didn''t stay in the courtyard.


    The moment the horses were taken and the crowd started thinning out, I slipped away, still aching from the inside out. Nobody stopped me. No one said a word. Not even a glance. I wasn''t important enough for that.


    My legs felt like rubber. Every step through the stone halls burned¡ªribs, knees, back, everything screaming at me to just lie down and disappear. I passed soldiers I didn''t know, voices buzzing in my ears without meaning. The fortress walls closed in like they were too big, too cold, too full of people who didn''t give a shit.


    My room was dark when I opened the door. Hot air clung to the walls. Dust floated through a sliver of moonlight from the high window. Same broken mirror. Same crooked table. Same bucket of stale water I hadn''t replaced in a week.


    I stepped in, shut the door, and locked it behind me.


    Then I puked.


    It came out fast, violent, and bitter. I didn''t even make it to the bucket. Just dropped to my knees and emptied whatever was left in my stomach onto the stone floor. The acid burned my throat, left my hands shaking against the floorboards.


    I stayed there a while. Kneeling. Breathing through my teeth. One hand braced against the wall like I''d fall apart without it.


    The worst part was that I didn''t feel better.


    My chest still hurt. My skin itched. My head throbbed with every heartbeat. My thoughts wouldn''t shut the fuck up.


    Why did they die?


    Why was I alive?


    What the hell am I even doing here?


    I pressed my palms to my eyes, hard. Tried to breathe, but it kept catching in my throat. There were no tears, no screams, just that sickening, gnawing pressure like everything inside me was about to split open.


    I wasn''t ready for this. I wasn''t ready for any of it.


    But there was no way out.


    Just forward.


    Just pain.


    I got up, stumbled to the mirror. Stared at the wreck standing in front of me.


    Bruised cheek. Split lip. Blood on my collar. My eyes looked like they didn''t belong to me.


    "You look like shit," I muttered.


    No answer. Just that same dead stare looking back.


    I didn''t sleep.


    I laid down for maybe an hour, but my thoughts kept circling. So I got back up before sunrise, tied my boots, and walked out into the yard.


    The sky was still dark. The torches hadn''t even gone out yet.


    Only a few others were there¡ªgrunts like me. No one talked. Just the sound of leather boots on dirt and steel brushing steel.


    I grabbed a wooden sword from the rack. Heavy. Off-balanced. Didn''t matter.


    I started moving.


    Slow at first. My body hated me. My legs wobbled, my wrists burned with every swing, but I kept going. Over and over again. Basic drills. Stances. Slashes. Guard. Repeat. Nothing fancy. Nothing impressive.


    But it was something.


    I wasn''t good. I was clumsy. I missed my mark more than I hit it. The sword felt like it weighed a hundred fucking kilos by the end of the hour.


    Lukas watched from the side, arms crossed. Didn''t say shit. Just stood there while I fucked up every third swing.


    Eventually, he walked over. Said nothing. Just grabbed my hand, adjusted my grip.


    "Don''t hold it like a broom," he muttered.


    Then he walked off.


    That was the closest thing to praise I''d heard in weeks.


    It kept me going.


    The next morning felt the same. Same cold dirt under my boots, same burning muscles, same awkward grip on the wooden sword. I was slower than the others. Less precise. Everything about me still screamed . Even when I tried to hide it, it leaked out in every motion.


    Lukas was there again. Always early. Always quiet. He moved like he was scared to take up space¡ªshoulders hunched, eyes low, like he was waiting for someone to yell at him just for existing. But he still showed up. Every day. Carrying crates. Cleaning weapons. Swinging a sword that looked too heavy for his frame.


    We didn''t talk much at first. Just grunts. Nods. Shared sweat and silence.


    But on the third day, after I dropped my blade mid-swing and cursed under my breath, Lukas actually muttered something.


    "You''re supposed to keep your elbow tighter."


    I turned, wiping sweat from my brow. "What?"


    He hesitated. "Your elbow. You open up too much when you swing. Leaves your ribs exposed."


    I blinked.


    He flushed red, like he regretted saying anything.


    "Thanks," I muttered, picking up the sword again.


    He nodded quickly, then went back to his own drills without another word.


    That was Lukas.


    Not a fighter.


    Not a leader.


    Just¡­ trying.


    Like me.


    But then, on the fifth morning, everything changed.


    I was in the middle of drills when I heard a voice behind me.


    "Your stance is shit."


    I turned sharply¡ªtoo sharply, almost lost my balance.


    Nikita stood a few meters away, arms folded, his face unreadable. He wasn''t in armor. Just a training shirt, loose pants, bare forearms covered in old scars.


    "I¡ªI didn''t see you there," I managed.


    "Obviously."


    He walked closer, slow and deliberate, eyes scanning me like I was a puzzle with half the pieces missing.


    "Feet too wide. Right hand too tense. And you keep leaning forward when you strike."


    I lowered the sword slightly. "I''ve been practicing."


    "I can tell," he said. "You''re not completely hopeless anymore."


    My lips twitched. That was the most encouraging thing anyone had said to me in weeks.


    Nikita stepped beside me, motioned for the sword.


    I handed it over.


    He turned it in his hand once, then took a stance so fluid, so perfectly controlled, it looked effortless.


    "This," he said, "is balance. Every step, every breath, every movement¡ªit starts here." He shifted into a swing, the blade slicing through the air with a clean whoosh. "No wasted motion. No hesitation."


    I watched every move like my life depended on it.


    Then he handed the sword back.


    "Again," he said.


    So I did.


    I copied the stance. Slower, clumsier. My feet slipped once. My wrist turned too far.


    "Stop. Do it again."


    And again.


    And again.


    For the next hour, Nikita drilled me¡ªcorrecting, adjusting, demonstrating. He didn''t raise his voice. Didn''t mock. Just... instructed. Calm. Focused. Deadly.


    At one point, I glanced at Lukas. He stood off to the side, eyes wide, jaw slightly open. Watching.


    He''d never seen Nikita train anyone before.


    No one had.


    By the time we finished, my arms were dead, my legs felt like stone, and I was dripping sweat.


    But I could breathe.


    And for the first time in weeks, I didn''t feel like I was drowning.


    Nikita gave me a final nod before turning away.


    "Keep showing up."


    That was all he said.


    But it meant more than anything else in this godsdamned place.


    And I kept going. Every morning before the sun touched the walls. Every afternoon after the others stopped. Lukas still trained nearby, always quiet, always watching. We didn''t talk much, but sometimes he''d nod when I got something right. That was enough. I think he respected the grind. Or maybe he just needed someone else to prove that it was okay to keep going.


    A week passed. Then another. The fortress felt heavier every day. The air was thicker. People whispered more. The higher-ups met in closed rooms with dark faces and hushed voices. Word spread, even if no one said it outright. The Invasion wasn''t months away anymore.


    It was close.


    Real close.


    And then the announcement came.


    Arena matches.


    A monthly event. Everyone knew the rules. One-on-one duels between soldiers. Win, and your ranking went up. Lose, and you got dropped¡ªor stayed where you were. It was how people clawed their way out of the lower divisions. How names became known. And for some poor bastards, how they got crushed in front of a crowd that didn''t give a shit unless blood hit the dirt.


    I signed up.


    I didn''t know why.


    Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was anger. Maybe I just wanted to prove to myself that I wasn''t the same piece of shit who froze in the middle of a battle and let others die.


    When I saw Miguel''s name on the pairing list, my stomach twisted.


    He''d beaten me before.


    Easily.


    A cocky bastard with fast hands, a sharper blade, and enough raw confidence to fill a hall. He''d laughed the last time. Called me a waste of time before dropping me in less than a minute.


    This time, I wasn''t the same kid.


    The crowd packed the edges of the stone arena. Soldiers stood on crates. Recruits clung to the railing. Voices rose in short bursts¡ªbets, jeers, commentary. It smelled like sweat, dirt, and metal.


    And blood.


    There was always blood.


    I stood in the center, sword in hand, breathing slow.


    Miguel strutted in like he was already celebrating. His armor gleamed. His smirk was razor-sharp. His confidence practically oozed from his boots.


    "Well, look who got brave," he said, spinning his sword once. "Didn''t think you''d crawl back here after last time."


    I didn''t answer.


    I didn''t need to.


    I just gripped the sword tighter and locked my eyes on him.


    Out of the corner of my vision, I saw him.


    Antoine.


    Standing on the upper balcony. Leaning against the railing. Watching.


    No expression.


    Just watching.


    My heart kicked faster, but I shoved it down.


    The horn blew.


    Miguel moved fast. Quicker than I remembered. He came in low, blade darting for my side. I turned with it, felt the steel graze my ribs, and countered. My swing missed by a hair. He grinned.


    "Too slow."


    He struck again¡ªhigh, low, fake, then real. I blocked, barely. My arms rattled from the impact. Pain shot down my forearms, but I held the stance.


    He came again. I ducked. Swung up.


    This time, I clipped his arm.


    Just a scratch¡ªbut it was enough to wipe the grin off his face.


    He snarled. "Lucky."


    "No," I muttered. "Trained."


    I pushed harder. Pressed the offense. I wasn''t better than him¡ªnot in strength, not in finesse. But I was more focused. I knew what I wanted.


    He swung wild.


    I ducked.


    Came up under his guard.


    Steel slammed into his thigh. He staggered, one leg buckling.


    The crowd made noise¡ªgasps, shouts, curses.


    I didn''t hear them.


    I was already moving.


    My boot hit the dirt. My blade snapped forward. He blocked, but sloppy.


    And then¡ª


    My sword slammed into his shoulder, full force.


    He dropped.


    Not out cold.


    But done.


    The horn blew again.


    I stood there, chest heaving, blade trembling in my hands.


    It was over.


    Someone shouted my name.


    Someone else cursed.


    And then the voice echoed through the arena, clear and loud:


    "Aleksander. Promotion¡ªStandard Division."


    The crowd didn''t cheer.


    They didn''t have to.


    That one sentence meant everything.


    I left the arena with my knuckles raw and my shirt sticking to my back. Sweat clung to my spine, blood soaked through my side where Miguel had landed the first hit. Every step felt like it dragged a hundred kilos behind it, but I didn''t care. Not this time. For once, I wasn''t walking back as the loser.


    Soldiers nodded at me as I passed¡ªbarely, but they did. Just small, sharp acknowledgments, like they couldn''t ignore me anymore. I didn''t smile. Didn''t bask in it. Just kept walking. The adrenaline still hadn''t worn off. I could feel it buzzing in my fingertips, like I was ready to fight again. Like part of me didn''t want to stop.


    By the time I got back to the barracks, the sun had dipped behind the walls. A warm breeze pushed dust down the alleyways. Voices echoed faintly from the canteen. Orders barked in the distance. The fortress never slept. Not anymore.


    Lukas sat on the edge of a crate near the armory, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve. He looked up when he saw me, eyes wide. "You won?"


    I gave a small nod.


    His face lit up¡ªlike someone had just handed him fire in a world of snow. "Holy shit. Against Miguel?"


    I sat down beside him with a grunt, letting my back rest against the wall.


    He laughed softly, then quickly covered his mouth like he''d said something wrong. "Sorry. I just¡­ I didn''t think he''d lose."


    "Me neither," I muttered, wiping blood from my lip. "Guess we were both wrong."


    He paused. "Nikita watched."


    That made me freeze.


    I looked at him, and Lukas nodded.


    "Was up on the other side. With the officers. Looked like he was actually paying attention."


    I didn''t know what to say to that. My throat felt tight all of a sudden. I just leaned my head back and stared at the sky through the open rafters.


    For the first time in weeks, the stars were out.


    Not many. Just a few.


    But they were there.


    A couple hours later, a runner came through the barracks with the updated ranks posted on a scroll. I didn''t go read it. Didn''t need to.


    Someone else did.


    And they talked.


    Cealith had been moved to the Expanded Division. People were already whispering about how fast he was rising. How the higher-ups had plans for him.


    But it wasn''t that that made the air go still.


    It was what came after.


    Nikita¡ªnow officially a Legend.


    The youngest ever.


    People said it like it was prophecy. Like it had been inevitable from the start. They called him a ghost with a sword, the shadow of the coming war. Nobody dared say his name without lowering their voice.


    I sat on my bunk, bandaging my ribs in the dark, and let the words sink in.


    He deserved it.


    He earned it.


    But still¡­ there was a part of me¡ªdeep, buried, stupid¡ªthat hurt. Like I was watching a comet pass overhead, knowing it would never fall back down where I could reach it.


    The barracks quieted down quick that night.


    Nobody joked anymore. No loud card games. No drunk arguments.


    The invasion was close. Everyone felt it.


    Orders changed. Schedules shifted. Patrols doubled. New trenches dug outside the southern wall. New scouts sent into the dry valleys.


    And me?


    My first post as a Standard Division soldier came the next morning.


    Wall duty.


    Four hours standing on stone, staring at sand and sky and the distant hills that looked like teeth under the sun. The heat pressed against my armor. The wind kicked grit into my eyes. But I stayed there, silent, steady, watching for movement.


    The officer beside me said nothing. Just leaned on his spear, half asleep.


    Then I saw the riders.


    Three of them.


    Dust trailing behind like smoke. Hooves pounding the ground. Fast.


    I straightened.


    The officer beside me frowned, raised a spyglass.


    "Messengers?"


    "No," I said.


    As they got closer, I saw her.


    A white headband flapping behind her like a war banner.


    Hair darker than coal. Sharp posture. Determined shoulders.


    Lydia.


    I barely recognized her at first.


    She looked older. Harder. Like the past few months had carved something into her bones.


    They rode straight past the gates, directly to the central keep.


    The guards didn''t stop them.


    No one did.


    Because she didn''t come with requests.


    She came with orders.


    Word spread fast¡ªthrough hallways, mess halls, weapon racks.


    Lydia was speaking with the commander.


    I didn''t hear the whole conversation. Wasn''t allowed in the room, obviously. But I lingered nearby, long enough to catch the end of it. Her voice¡ªcool, steady, dangerous¡ªcut through the heavy stone walls like a blade.


    "There''s been a sighting," she said.


    A pause. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A breath.


    Then¡ª


    "One of the Six-Winged."


    And that was the moment I realized¡­


    Everything was about to change.

 Chapter 23:Beneath What Was Buried

    "¡­he appeared out of nothing. No portal. No sound. Just¡ªthere."


    I froze before I even realized I was listening.


    The corridor was dim, cold stone pressing against my side as I leaned closer to the slightly open door. I wasn''t supposed to be here¡ªI was on wall duty until twenty minutes ago. But my feet had wandered. Or maybe my curiosity had dragged me here the moment I saw Lydia storm through the inner gate with two officers behind her and vanish into this room.


    I didn''t hear the General respond, only the steady rhythm of his pacing¡ªheavy boots echoing on the wooden floor inside.


    Lydia''s voice stayed firm, precise. "One of our scouts spotted him near a forest ridge north of the elven territories. Said he looked like he''d been through hell."


    I held my breath. My shoulders were still sore from training, but now I barely felt them. The words pulled everything else out of focus.


    "A weapon?" the General asked, finally.


    "No. Not immediately," Lydia said. "But the ones who saw him¡ªthey''re calling it an angel."


    I blinked.


    Angel?


    She kept going. "Six wings. Scorched, bloodied. Body torn open, but still standing. He was shaking. His eyes weren''t¡­ human. But they weren''t gone either."


    A pause.


    "Then he spoke. Just once. Said: ''Free him. His chain.''"


    My throat tightened.


    "And then?"


    "He disappeared."


    The General swore quietly. Wood creaked. Maybe he was sitting down. Maybe just burying his face in his hands.


    Lydia''s voice didn''t waver. "He looked like the one from the beginning. The warning. The six-month prophecy. The same wings. Same¡­ presence. Same silence."


    The same silence echoed in me now. Heavy and cold. I backed away from the door before I could hear anything else.


    The hall outside was mostly empty, just a few officers passing in the distance and one torch sputtering in a bracket by the stairs. I made my way down quickly, trying to look casual, even though my heart was still hammering.


    I hadn''t even had time to process what I''d just heard when Cealith appeared out of nowhere like he always fucking did. Right in my path, hands behind his back, half-lidded eyes watching me like he already knew.


    "Nikita wants you," he said.


    He turned before I could even react, expecting me to follow.


    I caught up, still replaying that sentence in my head¡ª


    We moved through the southern corridor of the fortress in silence. Patrol banners rustled gently along the walls as wind slipped through open arches. I still smelled like sweat and dust from the wall shift, and I hadn''t eaten since morning.


    "You always stand in people''s way like that?" I muttered.


    Cealith tilted his head slightly, his tone bone-dry. "Only when they look like they''re up to something."


    I didn''t answer that. He didn''t push.


    "How are you?" I asked.


    He shrugged. "Not dead. Yet."


    "Comforting."


    He glanced at me, just a flick of those strange, glass-colored eyes. "You?"


    "¡­Still standard division."


    "Still breathing, then."


    I gave a tired chuckle, but there wasn''t much behind it.


    A few steps later, he said, "I saw your fight. Against Miguel."


    I tensed up. "Oh."


    "You were better than before," he added. "Less flailing. More aim."


    "That your way of saying I still suck?"


    "It''s my way of saying you improved."


    Nikita was already armed and ready when we reached the gear room¡ªleather straps, field pack, a short-bladed spear strapped over his shoulder, and his usual resting expression that looked like it had been carved out of stone.


    He looked up once we entered. "Good. You''re both on time."


    Cealith made no comment. I just shrugged.


    "Is this about the new ruin?" I asked, seeing the map spread across the table.


    "Yeah." Nikita didn''t waste time. He tapped a small circle drawn near the southern hills. "Scout team found an opening. Partially collapsed. It''s not just surface debris. It goes down. Deep."


    He rolled the map up without waiting for questions. "I''m putting a team together to check it out. Small. Quiet."


    Cealith raised an eyebrow. "Just us?"


    Nikita nodded. "You and Aleks."


    I blinked. "Me?"


    "You''ve been in a ruin before," he said without missing a beat. "And you made it out. That''s more than most."


    It wasn''t flattery. Just a fact. Still, it meant something coming from him.


    "We''re not taking a squad?" Cealith asked.


    "No. Less noise. Less risk."


    I adjusted the straps on my gear. "So we''re just walking into a buried mystery dungeon with nothing but three guys and a prayer?"


    Nikita almost smiled. "If it makes you feel better, two of us are good at killing things."


    "Ha. Hilarious."


    He tossed me a waterskin. "We leave in ten."


    We left just after sunrise.


    The world was quiet, too quiet, like even the wind was holding its breath. The trail south was rough, mostly cracked soil and broken stone, winding through hills that looked like they''d been punched into the earth by some ancient god in a bad mood. There were no birds, no animals, not even bugs. Just dust, the occasional rustle of dry grass, and the steady rhythm of three horses plodding through a landscape that didn''t want us there.


    I rode in the middle. Cealith up front, Nikita behind. Nobody talked for the first half hour, which didn''t surprise me¡ªCealith wasn''t exactly a conversationalist, and Nikita only opened his mouth when something needed saying. I watched the sun crawl slowly across the edge of the horizon, the light spilling over distant ridges like someone dragging a sword across the sky.


    Eventually, the silence started itching under my skin. I cleared my throat.


    "So¡­" I said, loud enough to be heard but not enough to sound like I cared too much. "How''s life as a living legend?"


    Nikita didn''t turn. "Loud."


    I blinked. "That''s it?"


    "You don''t sleep much when the entire camp thinks you''re immortal."


    I looked back at Nikita, who raised an eyebrow. "Sounds familiar."


    "Do people talk to you more now?" I asked.


    "Only when they want something," Nikita said.


    "Well, that sounds fun."


    "It''s not."


    Right. Of course not. What the hell did I expect? Champagne and statues?


    I let it go for a minute, watching the trail wind into a canyon. The walls around us started rising, the sky narrowing above. The light dimmed, and the temperature dropped a few degrees.


    Then Cealith glanced over his shoulder. "You were listening."


    I blinked. "Huh?"


    "Back at the fortress. The door."


    I paused. "You¡­ saw me?"


    "Your shadow was longer than the wall," he said simply.


    Nikita looked between us. "What are you talking about?"


    "There was a meeting," I admitted. "Lydia and the General. I overheard it."


    "And?" Nikita asked.


    I shifted in the saddle. "Some kind of being showed up near an elven settlement. North-west of here. Just¡­ appeared. Covered in blood. Six wings. People are calling it an angel."


    Cealith looked back ahead, silent. Nikita''s fingers tightened slightly around his reins.


    "And?" Nikita said again.


    "It said something. ''Free him. His chain.'' Then it vanished."


    For a moment, no one said anything.


    Then Cealith, quiet: "That sentence doesn''t sound like a warning."


    "What does it sound like to you?" I asked.


    "A command."


    Nikita exhaled, long and slow. "Or a last request."


    "You think it was dying?" I asked.


    Cealith didn''t answer.


    "Was it the same as the one from the beginning?" Nikita asked. "The one that gave the warning?"


    "Lydia thinks so," I said. "She said it looked the same. Same presence."


    "That thing disappeared before anyone could even talk to it," Nikita muttered. "And now another one shows up. Bleeding. Raving about chains. Then gone again."


    I swallowed. "You think they''re connected?"


    "Everything''s connected," he said.


    We rode in silence after that. The canyon twisted, narrowed, then opened into a basin. There, half-buried in rubble and overgrown stone, stood the entrance.


    The ruin.


    It didn''t look like a building.


    It looked like a wound.


    Black stone, smooth as glass, jutted out of the ground at impossible angles, like the earth had been peeled back and something underneath had clawed its way out. Strange carvings ran along the surfaces¡ªsome sharp, some circular, none familiar. The entrance was a jagged split in the ground, leading into shadow. No gate. No markings. Just dark. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fuck," I muttered. "That''s not ominous at all."


    Cealith dismounted without a word. Nikita followed, tying his horse to a rock. I did the same, though my hands weren''t exactly steady.


    We unpacked fast¡ªtorches, rope, rations, blades. Nikita tossed me a knife I hadn''t seen before. Compact. Double-edged. Handle wrapped in dark leather.


    "Keep it close," he said.


    "Planning for a fight?"


    "Always."


    We lit torches and approached the opening.


    The air shifted.


    It hit me like walking into an old crypt¡ªdry, but cold, not from temperature but from something else. Like the walls had been holding their breath for centuries and just now exhaled.


    "It''s colder," I said.


    "It''s not," Cealith replied.


    I looked at him. "What?"


    "It''s not colder," he repeated. "It''s emptier."


    That shut me up real fast.


    We stepped inside.


    The stone swallowed sound.


    No echoes. No drip of water. Just the muffled crunch of our boots and the low flicker of torchlight against obsidian walls that weren''t really black, not exactly. Closer to that void-color oil takes when it catches fire¡ªdark, shifting, with hints of sickly green and bruised purple hiding beneath the surface. The passage angled downward in a slow spiral, each turn tighter than the last.


    I didn''t like how smooth everything was. No tool marks. No cracks. Like it hadn''t been carved at all¡ªjust¡­ grown.


    We walked for maybe ten minutes without speaking. Every few steps, I caught myself glancing over my shoulder. There was nothing behind us, but the air didn''t feel right. It was like being underwater with no weight, no direction. Every breath was shallow. Not because of fear¡ªbecause the place didn''t want us breathing.


    "How far does this go?" I asked eventually, just to hear something human.


    Nikita didn''t answer. Cealith just tilted his torch and muttered, "Longer than it should."


    Comforting.


    Eventually, the spiral opened into a wider hall. Arched ceiling, walls etched with more of those symbols¡ªsome glowing faintly, others almost pulsing. Not with light, exactly, but with¡­ presence.


    I touched one before I could stop myself.


    It felt warm. Not hot. Just slightly above body temperature, like someone''s skin. And for half a second, I thought I heard something¡ªlike a breath, exhaled into my skull from the inside.


    I pulled my hand back instantly. "Okay. Nope. No more of that."


    "You touched it," Nikita said without turning.


    "Yeah, thanks. I noticed."


    "I told you¡ª"


    "Don''t touch what I don''t understand, I know. It looked harmless."


    Nikita glanced back. "So do you."


    Cealith snorted. That might''ve been the first time I''d ever heard him laugh. It was weird. Not bad. Just weird.


    The hall ended in a circular arch, broken in the center. Past it, a vast open chamber stretched out in quiet, oppressive stillness. No light reached it, not even from our torches. The shadows just¡­ devoured everything. The floor was sunken, the walls curved inward, giving the space the feel of a massive stone heart. Every instinct in me said not to go further.


    Naturally, we went in.


    I stepped across the threshold and felt the temperature drop again¡ªthis time real. My torch flickered, dimmed for a second, then stabilized. Cealith took the lead. Nikita moved to my left, close but not crowding. We didn''t speak. We didn''t need to.


    In the center of the chamber was a raised stone platform. It looked like an altar but felt like a grave.


    And on it¡ªsomething lay still.


    Not quite human. Not quite machine. Not dead.


    It was long, longer than any man. Arms like twisted marble, skin semi-translucent, pulsing faintly with lines of light beneath the surface like veins made of liquid gold. A metallic crown hovered an inch above its head, unmoving, anchored by nothing. Around its body hung fragments of rusted chains, broken and floating midair, as if gravity had forgotten them.


    Cealith stopped walking.


    Nikita tensed, his hand drifting near his weapon.


    I couldn''t move. My chest felt tight, my legs locked.


    The thing on the altar opened its eyes.


    They weren''t eyes.


    They were stars, frozen mid-collapse, filled with more time than I could understand. They looked past me. Through me.


    Then they focused.


    On me.


    It opened its mouth. And the voice that came out wasn''t loud¡ªbut it loud. It hit me behind the ribs, in my spine, in the softest parts of my skull.


    "We¡­"


    I flinched. Nikita took a half-step forward, his weapon halfway drawn.


    "We will be erased."


    The chamber trembled slightly, dust falling from above. My torch flickered again.


    "All of us."


    The voice cracked, turned sharp. Desperate.


    And then it screamed¡ª


    "Because HE is gone!"

 Chapter 25: Echoes of the Ruin

    We didn¡¯t talk for the first hour.


    The horses moved in silence, their hooves crunching over dry earth and scattered stone, the horizon stained red by a sun already beginning to set. The wind had a bite to it. Not cold. Just¡­ sharp. Like it wanted us to keep moving, to not stay too long in the open. After what we¡¯d seen underground, the quiet almost felt cruel.


    Cealith rode ahead, as always¡ªback straight, posture perfect, eyes forward like the road might betray us. Nikita stayed a few paces behind me, his horse¡¯s gait steady and unfazed, like he could ride for a hundred hours without blinking. I sat between them, one hand on the reins, the other resting near the pouch where the shard sat in my coat pocket. I could still feel its cold edge through the cloth. It hadn¡¯t moved. Hadn¡¯t done anything. But it still felt like it was¡­ waiting.


    Eventually, the silence got too loud.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking,¡± I said.


    Cealith didn¡¯t look back. ¡°Always dangerous.¡±


    I gave him a weak smile that I don¡¯t think he saw. ¡°That thing back there. The one that dissolved.¡±


    Nikita¡¯s horse slowed slightly, coming level with mine.


    I continued, ¡°Back in the first ruin¡ªthe one with the dragon¡ªI remember what it said. About the ¡®first ones.¡¯ The ones who were here before anything else.¡±


    ¡°You think it was one of them?¡± Nikita asked.


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah. It didn¡¯t feel like it belonged to us. Like it didn¡¯t even belong to now.¡±


    Cealith muttered, ¡°It didn¡¯t.¡±


    We kept riding. The landscape around us grew darker, edges blurring in the low light.


    ¡°Do you think there are more?¡± I asked.


    Cealith shook his head once. ¡°There were more. There aren¡¯t now.¡±


    ¡°And no one up top should know what we saw,¡± Nikita added. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    There was weight in his voice¡ªfinal, measured.


    ¡°I agree,¡± I said. ¡°Whatever that thing was, it didn¡¯t die just for a report.¡±


    Cealith slowed until he rode beside me. ¡°So. What do we tell the general?¡±


    Nikita answered before I could. ¡°Collapsed structure. Found some ancient tech. Didn¡¯t function. Minor defensive traps. Neutralized. Cleared for collapse.¡±


    Cealith raised an eyebrow. ¡°Sounds like something a war camp would forget in a week.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    I let the lie sit for a moment, rolling it over in my head.


    ¡°We¡¯re really not gonna tell anyone?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Nikita said. ¡°We are going to survive.¡±


    That shut me up.


    We kept riding.


    By the time the camp came into view, the sky had turned black. Not starless¡ªjust¡­ muted. Like the night didn¡¯t want to look down at us.


    The fortress lights were still burning. Flickering torches lined the outer walls, guarded and silent. A few tents had dim candlelight leaking out, and the central tower glowed faintly like a watchful eye. But most of the camp had gone quiet. Not asleep. Just¡­ waiting.


    We passed a pair of soldiers at the gate. Neither asked where we¡¯d been. They knew better than to question someone walking beside a legend.


    Cealith dismounted first. He always landed like he weighed nothing. Nikita followed, slow and deliberate. I dropped off last, my legs stiff, saddle-sore, and tired in a way that sleep didn¡¯t fix.


    ¡°I¡¯ll deliver the report tomorrow,¡± Nikita said. ¡°You two rest.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± I asked.


    He didn¡¯t answer. Just gave me a short look and walked off toward the command building.


    Cealith stretched his shoulders with a quiet grunt. ¡°Try not to stare at the ceiling for five hours again.¡±


    ¡°No promises,¡± I muttered.


    He gave me a small nod¡ªhis version of ¡°goodnight¡±¡ªand disappeared into the dark.


    I stood there for a second longer. Just breathing. The ground felt different beneath my boots. The wind smelled like iron and ash, even though nothing was burning.


    Then I turned and headed for my barracks.


    Sleep came fast.


    Dreams came faster.


    And none of them stayed when I woke up.


    The next morning hit me like a brick to the face.


    Not literally, but it might as well have been. I woke with dry eyes, a pounding skull, and a back that felt like I¡¯d slept on rocks. The barracks had that early-morning chill again¡ªthe kind that sinks into your bones before you¡¯re even fully awake.


    Outside, the camp was already alive.


    Voices barked orders. Boots stomped. Metal clanged. Something had shifted overnight. Not just the schedule. The .


    I pulled on my uniform, grabbed my gear, and headed toward my assigned post at the western wall.


    Halfway there, I spotted Lydia.


    She was walking the opposite direction, face serious, shoulders tense. She didn¡¯t look surprised to see me.


    ¡°You¡¯re back,¡± she said.


    ¡°Guess I am.¡±


    Her eyes flicked across my face like she was checking for damage. ¡°Anything you need to report?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°No. Just more rocks.¡±


    She studied me for a second longer, then nodded. ¡°Good. You look like shit.¡±


    ¡°I feel worse.¡±


    ¡°Try not to pass out on duty.¡±


    ¡°No promises.¡±


    She didn¡¯t smile. But she didn¡¯t scold me either. Just kept walking.


    I watched her go. Wondered if she already knew more than she was letting on. With Lydia, you never really knew.


    By the time I reached the wall, most of the western guards were already in position. The shift captain didn¡¯t say much¡ªjust gave me a nod and pointed toward the northern edge.


    My spot.


    I climbed the wooden platform, took my place, and stared out over the field.


    Grass. Dirt. Trees. Empty space.


    But it didn¡¯t feel empty.


    It felt like something was .


    A few minutes later, the general arrived.


    He didn¡¯t say anything at first¡ªjust stood in the center of the courtyard, hands behind his back, scanning the wall, the towers, the soldiers. He looked tired. But sharp. Like a blade you didn¡¯t know was drawn until it cut.


    Then he raised his voice.


    ¡°This is for all active personnel.¡±


    People turned. Silence fell.


    ¡°The war will not wait.¡±


    His voice wasn¡¯t loud. It didn¡¯t need to be. It .


    ¡°A plan has been made. With every faction. Every leader. Every goddamn race that still breathes.¡±


    A pause. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°The enemy comes soon. This month. We don¡¯t have the exact day¡ªbut we know they¡¯re moving. We¡¯ve seen the signs. And when they hit, it won¡¯t be slow. It won¡¯t be fair.¡±


    His eyes swept the wall.


    ¡°It will be .¡±


    I swallowed.


    ¡°Topolin will be the fallback. All non-combatants¡ªchildren, elders, wounded, civilians¡ªwill be relocated. Only those who can fight will stay.¡±


    He took a breath. There was weight behind it.


    ¡°That means you. Every one of you. No exceptions. No safety nets. From now until it ends, this fortress is your home, your shield, and your grave¡ªif that¡¯s what it takes.¡±


    Silence.


    Then¡ª


    ¡°We will be assigning additional duties. More mouths are coming. We¡¯ll need more hands. You¡¯ll work. You¡¯ll eat. You¡¯ll bleed. But you won¡¯t break. Not here.¡±


    Still silence.


    Then he turned and walked away, leaving nothing but echo.


    I didn¡¯t realize I¡¯d been holding my breath.


    The shift captain muttered under his breath, ¡°Guess it¡¯s real now.¡±


    Yeah.


    It was.


    And somewhere deep down, I knew¡ª


    this was the last normal morning we¡¯d ever have.


    The rest of my shift passed without a single word.


    The fields stayed still. The trees didn¡¯t move. The wind was hollow. I kept glancing at the horizon like something might rise out of it¡ªtowers, wings, fire, anything. But there was only silence.


    And then the bell rang. Shift over.


    I climbed down from the platform, legs stiff, head fogged. The air felt heavier than it had in the morning. Not colder¡ªjust¡­ heavier. Like the sky had dropped a little lower while no one was looking.


    I headed toward the barracks, thinking maybe I¡¯d close my eyes for ten minutes¡ªjust ten¡ªbut someone stopped me near the central post tent. A young aide. Couldn¡¯t have been older than fifteen.


    He handed me a folded note, didn¡¯t say a word, and walked off.


    I opened it.


    The handwriting was messy, fast, but I recognized it instantly.


    I stared at the page for a long time.


    They were coming.


    Her. Daisuke. Amina. All of them.


    Something about that hit harder than I expected. Like the final piece of a puzzle had been clicked into place. Like the past was catching up to the present¡ªand bringing everything I¡¯d left behind right back to the front lines.


    I folded the note, slid it into my pocket beside the shard.


    Then I looked up.


    The sky was darker now. But not because of clouds.


    Just¡­ darker.


    A breeze passed through the camp, carrying a silence that felt earned. People moved with purpose. No wasted words. No wasted steps.


    The ground beneath my boots didn¡¯t feel solid anymore.


    It felt like the edge of something.


    A breath before the scream.


    A stillness before the fire.


    And in that moment, I knew¡ª


    We were done surviving the past.


    What came next¡­


    was war.

 Chapter 26:The Last Night

    The hammering didn¡¯t stop. Even at dawn, the clang of metal against metal drummed through the fortress like a heartbeat nobody asked for. I stood near the eastern barricade, arms folded, watching two dwarves argue over the best way to reinforce a cracked rampart. One insisted on steel plates; the other barked about using layered wood. Neither gave an inch. The sunrise didn¡¯t soften their tempers.


    Everywhere I looked, people moved with purpose. No smiles, no idle chatter. Just tense, hurried work. Final touches on the walls. Final stock checks. Final anything. Because if the rumors were true, we had a week¡ªmaybe less¡ªbefore the enemy arrived. Some whispered it would be only days. Others thought we might not even get that.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± grumbled a soldier as he rushed by, nearly tripping over an abandoned crate of arrows. ¡°Move your shit, or I¡¯ll burn it myself.¡±


    Someone else cursed back, but neither slowed down. Nobody had time to trade insults.


    I exhaled. My lungs felt raw, like I hadn¡¯t slept enough¡­ or breathed enough. Probably both.


    ¡°Take a look at that,¡± Cealith muttered at my side, nodding toward a new cart rolling in. A donkey pulled it, eyes wild, braying in protest at every tug of the reins. Two recruits tried to calm it, one shouting orders, the other just swearing under his breath.


    ¡°Poor beast,¡± I said. ¡°All this noise is driving it insane.¡±


    Cealith¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift. He barely blinked. ¡°Might as well help them. If that cart tips, they¡¯ll lose half the supplies.¡±


    I looked around. Everyone else seemed occupied¡ªcarrying planks, assembling ballista parts, rushing new volunteers around. So I sighed and stepped forward. The donkey pinned its ears, stamped a hoof.


    ¡°Easy,¡± I said, voice low. I reached for the bridle, hoping I wouldn¡¯t lose a finger. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna eat you.¡±


    It jerked sideways. I stumbled back, nearly slipping on loose gravel. One of the recruits swore, yanking the reins too hard. The donkey only grew more agitated.


    Cealith moved behind the cart, trying to stabilize the load¡ªbarrels of grain, sacks of dried beans, maybe a crate of crossbow bolts. My heart thumped, imagining all of it crashing down. We couldn¡¯t afford to lose a single arrow. Not now.


    I coaxed the donkey again, softer. ¡°You¡¯re okay. Don¡¯t mind the noise. We¡¯re all going a little crazy.¡±


    It flicked an ear. Was that progress?


    Then a sudden clang from the blacksmith¡¯s area made it jump, rattling the cart. Cealith cursed under his breath, pressing a hand against the crates. The recruits did their best to soothe the panicked animal, but it still looked ready to bolt.


    Eventually, with enough gentle tugs and a lot of whispered swearing, we guided the donkey to a quieter corner behind the main rampart. Cealith helped unload, arms taut, muscles shifting under that elven poise. The donkey snorted, finally calmer.


    I wiped sweat from my brow. ¡°Feels like the fortress itself is about to crack.¡±


    ¡°It might,¡± Cealith said flatly.


    I didn¡¯t have a comeback for that.


    The rest of the day felt like balancing on a knife¡¯s edge. People came and went, lugging crates, stacking arrows, marking maps with a jittery intensity that made me think of ants before a storm. Every clang of the blacksmith¡¯s hammer echoed like a countdown, every creak of the gates felt like a warning. It was enough to make my teeth ache from clenching my jaw so damn tight. Nobody said the word ¡°war,¡± but we all knew it was breathing down our necks.


    By late afternoon, the fortress started to slip into a hush¡ªlike it was saving breath for what would come next. I ended up near the western watchtower with Cealith again, trying and failing to shake off the tension. The sky hung in a dusty orange, a sun too tired to shine. He pointed out a crack in the tower¡¯s foundation. ¡°They¡¯ll patch it by tomorrow,¡± he said, not sounding convinced. I gave a half-hearted nod, my mind drifting to the battered donkey from earlier. If one stubborn animal could almost send our supplies crashing, what the hell would a full enemy onslaught do?


    And then, in the distance, I saw them: three silhouettes against the dying light. Horses kicking up dust, riders leaning forward as if racing the sun. My pulse skipped. ¡°Must be reinforcements,¡± I murmured, though part of me hoped for something more¡ªsome sense that life could be normal again, even for an hour.


    Cealith grunted. ¡°Go. I¡¯ll finish here.¡± I didn¡¯t wait for him to change his mind. Jogging down the ramp, I cut across the courtyard, weaving around a training session where two dwarves sparred with massive axes. Sparks flew off each clash. They cursed with every swing¡ªgritty words that turned heads but made me grin. It was so¡­ alive.


    I reached the west gate just as the trio arrived, hooves skidding to a halt. My heart gave a thrilled jolt when I recognized them. Carmen swung off her horse first, messy hair half-wrapped in a short ponytail, eyes shining. She smirked at me like I was a kid she¡¯d just caught sneaking out. ¡°Hey, Boss. Miss me?¡± She looked the same¡ªscratch that, a little older, a little leaner, but that sarcasm still dripped from every word.


    Behind her, Daisuke adjusted his glasses and offered a tired wave, while Amina took in the fortress walls with a slow, hawk-like gaze, a small frown tugging at her lips. Daisuke was lugging a short sword and a weathered map case, half undone. Amina had a thin dagger sheathed at her belt, posture relaxed but ready. They were travelers now, not just wide-eyed survivors. And yet, the relief on their faces was unmistakable.


    I let out a breath I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d been holding. ¡°You have no idea,¡± I managed, stepping forward. Carmen¡¯s grin widened, and she clapped me on the shoulder. Her grip was stronger than I remembered. Daisuke gave me an awkward half-hug, muttering something about horse blisters. Amina just nodded, but her eyes gleamed with recognition.


    ¡°How¡¯s the fortress holding up?¡± Carmen asked, glancing around. She spotted an ongoing argument between a dark elf and a stout human over pike formation¡ªboth yelling, arms flailing. ¡°Looks like a blast.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Feels like we¡¯re one wrong move from everything going to shit.¡±


    ¡°Then we got here just in time,¡± Daisuke said, patting his map case. ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan for the outer ramparts.¡± He sounded confident, though sweat beaded at his temple. He always got excited about strategic stuff, like war was a puzzle he could solve if he tried hard enough.


    Amina¡¯s gaze flicked to me. ¡°You look thinner. Didn¡¯t think that was possible.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, lips curving in a smile I couldn¡¯t suppress. ¡°I missed you guys too,¡± I said, voice cracking a little at the end. Carmen snorted softly, and even Amina¡¯s grim mouth twitched up for a second.


    For the first time in days, I felt more than fear. I felt¡­ alive. Tomorrow might be a funeral, but right now, I had my friends back. And if I was lucky, I¡¯d get one last night to remember what it might felt like to be a teenager.


    The fortress felt different when you walked it with friends by your side¡ªespecially friends who¡¯d never seen this place before. I led Carmen, Amina, and Daisuke through the winding pathways, guiding them around piles of lumber and coiled ropes that seemed to multiply each day. Every new corner revealed something they hadn¡¯t expected: a half-built watchtower, a freshly dug trench, or a row of crude but functional barricades lined with sharpened stakes.


    Daisuke lagged behind a moment, his gaze snagged on the overhead catwalks. ¡°These beams¡­ They¡¯re new, right?¡± He almost tripped over a stray plank. ¡°If we used them for overhead cover¡±


    ¡°Later, genius.¡± Carmen smirked, hooking an arm through his to keep him steady. ¡°We just got here, let¡¯s not turn it into a full-blown strategy workshop. Where¡¯s the fun in that?¡±


    Amina silently walked a few paces behind us, eyes roving over the defenses like she was cataloging every detail. Her expression was that calculated calm I remembered¡ªlike she was ready to either trade with a merchant or fight off a thief, whichever happened first. She inhaled, then exhaled quietly. ¡°It¡¯s bigger than I thought,¡± she admitted. ¡°I mean, we heard rumors but¡­ this place is massive.¡±


    ¡°Massive and on the verge of collapse,¡± I said, kicking a stray pebble. It bounced over the dirt. ¡°We¡¯re reinforcing it every day, but sometimes I swear it¡¯s like pouring water into a broken bucket. The enemy¡¯s not exactly sending love letters.¡±


    Carmen patted my shoulder. ¡°Relax, Boss. If it falls, at least you¡¯ll have us here to watch it happen together.¡± There was sarcasm in her tone, but also a strange kind of comfort. Like maybe the end of the world would be less terrifying if we faced it as a group.


    I led them to an open courtyard near the old tower¡ªone of the few spots not drowning in half-finished war prep. The evening sun cast long shadows along the beaten earth. A few dwarven soldiers rolled a heavy cannon-looking contraption across the yard, cursing under their breath each time the wheels stuck in a rut. Somewhere overhead, a pair of elves argued about arrow supply. It was chaos, but an almost¡­ familiar chaos.


    ¡°Where do we sleep?¡± Daisuke asked. He looked torn between excitement and exhaustion, adjusting his glasses again. A corner of me wanted to tell him not to get too comfortable¡ªsleep might be in short supply soon.


    I pointed toward a low row of barracks beyond the next arch. ¡°Spare bunks. Not fancy, but beats the ground.¡±


    Amina studied the barracks, her lips pressing thin. ¡°Better than outside. That¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    Carmen took in the scene, the frantic movement of soldiers, the towers overhead, the patchwork of new and old stone. Then she turned to me with an almost playful grin. ¡°Well, Boss, you were right. This place is¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°¡®Something¡¯ sums it up,¡± I said, feeling my shoulders ease a bit as her grin spread to me. It was the first time all day I¡¯d felt like the fortress wasn¡¯t just a doomed outpost¡ªit was a place we might actually stand together, however briefly. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A few steps away, Cealith appeared, arms folded, gaze unreadable. He inclined his head in a polite nod to the newcomers, then met my eyes. ¡°We¡¯re lighting a fire later. There¡¯s a spot behind the training ground.¡±


    I swallowed. Everyone knew. War, battle, blood¡ªwhatever tomorrow brought. But for now, we had an evening. A chance to pretend we were just a bunch of teenagers on a casual meet-up instead of half-soldiers bracing for the world to collapse. And that thought alone loosened the tight band around my chest.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, managing a smile. ¡°That sounds good.¡±


    Carmen and Amina exchanged glances¡ªsome silent conversation passing between them. Daisuke stepped around a stack of crates, nearly tripping over a leftover crossbow. I caught his arm, and he laughed sheepishly. This was us, in all our weirdness and barely-contained panic, but together. For a split second, it felt like being a kid again, waking up on the first day of summer, not worrying about class or chores¡ªjust being alive with your friends, unstoppable because you didn¡¯t know enough to be afraid.


    And then the sky above rumbled, distant thunder or maybe a catapult test. Shadows lengthened across the yard, like the fortress itself was reminding us:


    Sunset came in a rush of amber light and drifting smoke from distant torches. By the time we¡¯d handled the last bits of busywork¡ªhauling a few more crates, giving Daisuke a place to stow his map case¡ªthe fortress courtyard started emptying out. People drifted off to the mess hall or their bunks, quiet murmurs passing for conversation. A hush fell, not from peace, but from anticipation. Like everyone was saving their breath for tomorrow¡¯s screams.


    We gathered behind the training ground, where a gentle slope offered a sliver of privacy away from the main walkway. A meager fire crackled in a ring of stones, throwing dancing shadows over our faces. I sat on a low crate with Carmen and Amina perched near me, while Daisuke rummaged for a small jug of something that might¡¯ve been homemade liquor. It was dark enough that only the distant glow of fortress lanterns reminded us we weren¡¯t alone.


    Cealith arrived first, somehow even quieter than the dusk. He placed a small bundle of kindling by the fire, nodded to us, and stepped back like a watchful ghost. A few minutes later, Nikita appeared, stoic as always, carrying a wooden bowl of what might¡¯ve been roasted nuts. He didn¡¯t say much¡ªjust gave a curt nod as if acknowledging we still existed. But there was no malice there. Just that stern determination that turned heads whenever he walked by.


    ¡°So,¡± Carmen said, eyeing the jug in Daisuke¡¯s hands. ¡°Is that, like¡­ dangerous?¡±


    Daisuke scratched the back of his neck. ¡°I asked around. Some dwarves said it¡¯s basically fruit that¡¯s fermented a little too long. Might taste like burnt socks.¡±


    Amina arched an eyebrow. ¡°We¡¯re about to fight a goddamn war, and you¡¯re worried about taste?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m worried about not puking my guts out.¡±


    Carmen snorted. ¡°Coward.¡±


    She reached over and took the jug, uncorking it. The smell hit me first¡ªsweet and sour, like apples left out in the sun. She lifted it to her lips, took a swig, then made a face that was both disgusted and impressed. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s gross,¡± she confirmed, wiping her mouth. ¡°But I¡¯ve had worse.¡±


    Nikita stepped forward, expression unreadable. He took the jug without a word, sipped. Didn¡¯t even flinch. Amina let out a short laugh, almost a scoff. ¡°Show-off.¡±


    I hesitated when it got to me. ¡°I dunno,¡± I muttered. ¡°If we die tomorrow, I¡¯d rather not do it hungover.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a wimp,¡± Carmen teased, jostling me with her elbow. ¡°If tomorrow really is the end, at least have one decent memory of tasting something stupid.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡± Amina added, deadpan. ¡°Live a little.¡±


    So I took a swig. It burned my tongue and my throat, enough that I coughed. The group burst into laughter¡ªfriendly, warm, the kind of laughter that rushes in to fill the cracks of fear nobody wants to talk about. I felt my cheeks flush. Maybe it was embarrassment, maybe the liquor, maybe a bit of both.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I wheezed, wiping my mouth. ¡°That¡¯s strong.¡±


    Daisuke grimaced as he tried it next. ¡°Feels like it¡¯s eating my insides,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it,¡± Carmen said, snatching the jug back. She took another swig, coughed less this time, then handed it around again.


    The warmth of the fire and the low chatter soothed my nerves more than I expected. We started talking about random shit¡ªthe donkey fiasco from earlier, the time Daisuke got lost in a half-collapsed temple, that one day Carmen tried to trade a broken dagger for a bag of honeyed figs. Even Nikita chimed in here and there, throwing out short comments that made us realize he had a deadpan sense of humor hidden under all that discipline.


    Amina mentioned something about a street vendor in a faraway city, how she once scammed a guard by selling him fake pearls. We laughed, not because it was heroic, but because it was so purely . Daisuke recounted a snippet of ancient siege tactics with that glint in his eye. Cealith, arms folded by the fire, listened mostly, occasionally nodding if we pestered him for an opinion. It was chaotic, a little messy, and entirely¡­ real.


    And for a fleeting moment, the fortress didn¡¯t feel like a place bracing for war. It felt like a ragtag band of teenagers caught between worlds¡ªpast and present, fear and faith¡ªjust trying to make the best of an impossible situation. Jokes flew, snark reigned, and the liquor dulled that gnawing dread in the back of my skull. The ground under us seemed stable for once, the air warmer than it had any right to be.


    Carmen and Nikita ended up chatting a few paces from the group. Their voices carried softly in the dark¡ªnothing intimate, just a calm, subdued conversation about tomorrow¡¯s guard rotations. Then I noticed them standing a bit closer, shoulders nearly touching, expressions mild but serious. She cracked a joke. He smirked. And then, gently, she leaned in and kissed him.


    It wasn¡¯t some grand romantic display. Just¡­ a quiet, private moment between two people who¡¯d decided tomorrow¡¯s chaos deserved a small taste of tenderness tonight. My chest tightened for half a second¡ªmaybe from surprise, maybe from something else. But it passed quickly, replaced by a strange sense of acceptance. I¡¯d never seen Carmen look so peaceful.


    ¡°Yo, pass that jug back,¡± Daisuke called, breaking the silence. Nikita pulled away, the faintest blush crossing his features, and Carmen turned around with a casual shrug like nothing had happened. She tossed me a small grin¡ªmaybe as an apology, maybe as a challenge. I just shrugged back. No big deal.


    Minutes blended into an hour. The jar of questionable booze slowly emptied. Our voices grew a tad louder, laughter came easier. We teased Amina about her scowling face until she threatened to stab us with her dagger. We goaded Cealith into recounting some elven myth¡ªhe did so reluctantly, weaving a brief story about a lost kingdom beneath the sea. Daisuke hung on every word.


    Eventually, we quieted. The fire crackled softly, almost comforting. Someone¡ªI think Carmen¡ªasked a half-serious question: ¡°What if tomorrow never comes? Like, we just¡­ wake up, and it¡¯s all gone?¡±


    No one answered. Because in that hush, we all felt it: the fortress, the war, the unstoppable avalanche we¡¯d been trying to outrun. Night wore on, and we wore ourselves out talking, laughing, and distracting each other from the notion that a tide of darkness was already rolling toward us.


    Finally, one by one, we drifted. Daisuke dozed off on a wooden crate. Amina nudged him awake, muttering something about crashing in the barracks. Cealith gave a short nod, then left wordlessly, probably to keep watch or find a quiet corner to rest. Carmen stretched, eyes half-lidded but still alert, and Nikita excused himself with a low grunt that might¡¯ve been a ¡°goodnight.¡± They walked off together, not holding hands or anything, but comfortable in each other¡¯s space.


    Which left me. I sat there a while longer, staring into the embers, feeling the leftover warmth on my face. My head buzzed a little, not just from the booze but from the sheer weight of the day. The fortress was never truly silent, but in that moment, it felt close. Like the world was holding its breath for dawn.


    I exhaled, letting the last flickers of flame dance across my vision. We¡¯d had our laughs, our closeness, our final surge of teenage life. Tomorrow, we¡¯d have swords in hand and death at our doorstep. But tonight¡­ we¡¯d lived. We¡¯d lived.


    And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

 Chapter 27:The Horn of Dawn

    The first horn sounded before the sun touched the horizon.


    I sat up in the bunk like I¡¯d been punched in the chest. The sound was low, sharp, and far too early for a normal drill. Around me, bodies stirred¡ªblankets tossed off, boots slammed on floors, curses muttered between clenched teeth. A few of the younger recruits jolted up with wild eyes, probably dreaming of monsters or shadows that never left.


    My mouth felt like sand. My head buzzed. Not from the leftover taste of last night¡¯s drink, but from that other thing¡ªthat creeping sense that today was different. That kind of quiet you only hear before a city falls.


    I threw on my coat and stepped outside. The air was cold, crisp, and way too still for comfort. My breath clouded in front of me like a warning. From the northern towers, more horns followed¡ªtwo short blasts this time. A rally call. Standard formation.


    The fortress moved like a kicked anthill. Soldiers swarmed from barracks and tents, clanking in mismatched armor, gripping half-sharpened blades and weathered helmets. Officers barked orders. Scribes and messengers raced between command posts with scrolls fluttering behind them.


    Above all, there was silence in our voices.


    No one joked. No one complained. We all knew what this meant. The Darkness doesn¡¯t march. It appears. And when it does¡ªthere¡¯s no time to run.


    Carmen caught up to me near the central square, tying back her hair while marching in stride.


    ¡°You hear the tone of that horn?¡± she asked, not looking at me. ¡°That wasn¡¯t rehearsal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered. ¡°Felt like someone slapping my ribs from the inside.¡±


    She exhaled hard. ¡°Guess the party¡¯s over.¡±


    Behind us, Daisuke stumbled out of the side gate, his uniform still half-buttoned. ¡°Shit, what did I miss?¡± he gasped. ¡°I just¡ªgoddamn¡ªdidn¡¯t think it¡¯d be .¡±


    ¡°You think the Darkness gives a shit about your sleep schedule?¡± Amina¡¯s voice cut from behind. She slipped past him, her coat already dusted from the cold earth. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Assembly¡¯s starting.¡±


    Cealith was already ahead of us, walking alone, silent and alert as ever. His posture stiff, eyes scanning every movement, like he was listening to a song no one else could hear. I hadn¡¯t seen Nikita yet¡ªbut I knew he¡¯d already be at the square. First to arrive. Last to fall.


    By the time we reached the rally ground, the sky had started to turn a pale, warlike blue. Rows of troops stood in formation¡ªhumans, dwarves, elves, and everyone in between. The sea of armor and leather and cloth rippled as people settled in. Banners fluttered. Spears glinted. Dust kicked up with each nervous shuffle.


    In the center stood a raised stone platform. On it, the General.


    He wasn¡¯t a grand man. No golden cape, no polished armor. Just a scarred face, a voice that didn¡¯t need magic to silence an army, and eyes that had seen too many battles. His boots thudded as he stepped forward, wind blowing his gray-streaked hair back.


    He didn¡¯t clear his throat. He didn¡¯t wait.


    He just spoke.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to lie to you.¡±


    His voice slammed across the square like iron against iron.


    ¡°You feel it. I feel it. The Darkness doesn¡¯t march in lines. It doesn¡¯t knock on the gates. It doesn¡¯t wait for permission. It comes¡ªwhen it And when it does, it tears everything apart.¡±


    No movement. No whispers. Just the sound of our blood pounding in our ears.


    ¡°You¡¯ve trained. You¡¯ve bled. You¡¯ve built these walls with your hands and held your nerves with your teeth. But I need you to know something: this won¡¯t be a battle. It¡¯ll be a fucking storm.¡±


    He stepped forward, letting the silence hold a beat.


    ¡°And in storms like this¡­ no one waits for orders. You You You Or you ¡±


    People straightened. Gripped weapons. Some cried.


    ¡°Unit by unit, race by race¡ªwe are no longer separate. From this moment on, we fight as one. And we do not ¡±


    His voice boomed like thunder now. No magic. Just fire.


    ¡°You won¡¯t get a warning when the sky breaks open. There won¡¯t be drums or scouts or siege horns. Just black. Just silence. And then everything you love gets swallowed whole.¡±


    He raised his fist slowly.


    ¡°So you remember this¡ªwhen the next horn sounds¡­ the war has ¡±


    ¡°And we fight. We bleed. We hold. TO THE LAST!¡±


    The roar that followed¡­ I can¡¯t describe it. Not with words.


    It wasn¡¯t celebration. It wasn¡¯t cheer. It was fury, fear, and fire crashing into one sound. Some people shouted. Others just stood frozen. Daisuke¡¯s fists were clenched so tight I saw his knuckles go white. Amina¡¯s eyes had that quiet storm behind them. Carmen nodded once, biting her lip. Cealith stood absolutely still. And Nikita, not far from the platform, didn¡¯t flinch. He just breathed. Controlled. Deadly.


    I didn¡¯t cheer. I couldn¡¯t. My throat locked. But my heart? My heart was


    The roar hadn¡¯t even faded before officers started shouting names.


    It was all movement after that. Squads forming. Banners snapping. Feet pounding in unison across the hard-packed earth. The General¡¯s speech hadn¡¯t lifted the fear¡ªbut it¡¯d pointed it in the right direction. Every single person in that yard now moved with the kind of urgency you only feel when you know the countdown has started.


    I barely had time to process it before a voice called out¡ªsharp and direct. ¡°Unit Twenty-Seven, forward!¡±


    That was us.


    I saw Nikita break from the edge of the crowd, already walking toward the assembly point. His back was straight, his hands relaxed at his sides, like this was just another drill. He didn¡¯t look at anyone. Didn¡¯t need to.


    I jogged after him, Carmen and Amina flanking me. Daisuke tripped once trying to fasten the straps on his chest plate, then caught up panting. Cealith moved silently on the far edge, already scanning the crowd with those sharp, unreadable eyes of his.


    Unit 27 formed into two lines¡ªtight, efficient. I recognized a few faces among the new additions: a stocky dwarven woman with a jaw like stone, a tired-looking elf who hadn¡¯t blinked once since we arrived, and a lean guy named Luka from the second squad who had a twitchy knee and a tendency to mutter under his breath when nervous.


    Nikita turned to face us. ¡°From this moment,¡± he said, voice low and level, ¡°we¡¯re one blade.¡±


    He pointed to the fortress walls behind us. ¡°We¡¯ll be stationed north ridge. If it comes, it¡¯ll come fast. We don¡¯t wait for orders¡ªif the horn sounds again, that means it¡¯s already here.¡±


    Carmen tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna give a speech?¡±


    ¡°I just did.¡±


    Amina cracked half a grin. ¡°Hell of a motivational speaker, huh?¡± S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Daisuke opened his mouth to say something and thought better of it. He glanced at me instead. ¡°What do you think it¡¯ll look like?¡± he asked. ¡°The Darkness.¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer right away. I didn¡¯t know how to. I thought of the ash-covered ruins, of the creature in the depths whispering about what once was. I thought of the red eyes I¡¯d seen years ago in my dreams¡ªbefore any of this had started. Before Earth had fallen.


    ¡°It won¡¯t look like anything,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It¡¯ll just be¡­ here.¡±


    The rest of the morning passed in a haze of preparation.


    We helped distribute gear to the newer soldiers. Sharpened what needed sharpening. Checked rations, tightened armor straps, filled canteens. Nothing glorious. Just survival.


    At one point, I helped Carmen lift a crate of steel bolts for the northern turret archers. She made some joke about my strength, and I laughed¡ªtoo loudly. It wasn¡¯t funny, not really. But anything to break the weight pressing down on our shoulders.


    Amina was briefing two of the newer recruits on defensive rotations when I passed her. Her voice was calm, practical, her words clipped but clear. She didn¡¯t sugarcoat anything. I saw one of the kids swallow hard and nod. Respect was written all over their face.


    Daisuke, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on a barrel, scribbling into a small leather notebook. He¡¯d drawn a rough layout of the fortress from memory, plotting fallback points, guessing at weak zones. No one had asked him to, but nobody told him to stop either.


    And Cealith¡­ he stood on the wall for an hour, staring into the horizon. Unblinking. His posture tense, like he could already hear it. Like something inside him was bracing.


    I didn¡¯t bother him.


    Later that day, as the sky dimmed and wind picked up, Nikita gathered us again.


    ¡°We sleep in shifts tonight,¡± he said. ¡°Four on the wall. Four at the gate. Everyone else stays ready near supply stations. If it starts, there won¡¯t be a second signal.¡±


    He paused, glancing at each of us¡ªnot long, not dramatically, but with just enough weight to make it feel real.


    ¡°No hero bullshit,¡± he said. ¡°Stay alive. Cover each other. That¡¯s all.¡±


    Carmen leaned toward me once we were dismissed. ¡°So¡­ that was your version of a pep talk?¡±


    ¡°Worked on me,¡± I said. But my smile faded almost immediately.


    I was on wall rotation when it happened.


    The first part was silence.


    Not the kind you hear in forests or empty rooms¡ªbut a kind of Like the wind itself stopped breathing. Like even the birds, the bugs, the dirt beneath our boots held its breath.


    I looked up at the sky. It was too still. Too flat.


    The second horn didn¡¯t come like the others. It didn¡¯t echo or build.


    It through the air¡ªragged, desperate, like a scream forced through metal. Everyone froze. My hands clenched the railing so tight I thought it would snap.


    From the south wall came the sound of steel dropping. Then another horn¡ªthis time closer. Then a voice: ¡°It¡¯s here! The Darkness is here!¡±


    Chaos didn¡¯t follow right away.


    It was worse.


    It was that final second where every heart in the fortress hit the same beat. One collective realization.


    The war had begun.

 Chapter 28:The Shatterpoint

    The horn split the world open.


    It wasn¡¯t a sound. Not really. It was like something ancient and rusted had screamed through steel¡ªripping the silence apart, dragging every last breath into its pitch. I felt it in my chest before I even registered it in my ears. My bones locked. My fingers froze on the wall¡¯s edge. The air died.


    Then came the silence.


    No birds. No wind. Just that unnatural, ringing quiet. Like the whole world had sucked in its breath and forgotten how to let it go.


    I turned to the left. Cealith was standing still, eyes narrowed toward the sky, one hand on the hilt of his blade. Carmen gripped her spear tighter. Amina¡¯s mouth opened¡ªabout to say something, maybe a curse, maybe a warning¡ªbut then the stone beneath our feet cracked.


    ¡°Back!¡± Nikita¡¯s voice¡ªsharp, immediate, the only thing that could cut through the static in my brain.


    I didn¡¯t even question it. We stumbled off the ledge just as a thin, black fracture split the stone wall beneath where we¡¯d been posted. Not a clean break¡ªthis was organic, like ink bleeding through the fortress, like something was pushing through from reality.


    The ground beneath the watchtower groaned. And then the screaming began.


    Not ours.


    Theirs.


    From the fractures spilled the first wave.


    It didn¡¯t look like soldiers. It didn¡¯t like anything. Black bodies¡ªnot smoke, not flesh, not shadow¡ªjust absence. No faces, no armor, no weapons. Just shapes that twisted the air around them and tore into the first line like paper.


    The first soldier went down screaming. Another ran and didn¡¯t make it five steps before something lanced through his neck¡ª. Blood sprayed. The wall exploded behind him.


    ¡°Unit Twenty-Seven!¡± Nikita roared over the chaos. ¡°Form up! FORM UP!¡±


    I scrambled toward the others, almost slipped on blood. Daisuke pulled me upright, his face pale, eyes wider than I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°They¡¯re fucking ¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut it and move!¡± Amina shoved past him, grabbing a discarded shield and slamming it against the dirt like a barrier. ¡°We hold here!¡±


    Carmen landed beside me. ¡°Where¡¯s the rest of the unit?¡±


    ¡°Scattered!¡± I yelled back. I couldn¡¯t even hear my own voice. ¡°Some by the west trench¡ªsome¡ª¡±


    Another explosion rocked the ground. A hole opened ten meters from us¡ªlike the earth had been torn from underneath¡ªand two more creatures slithered out. One moved like it was underwater. The other just floated¡ªlike it didn¡¯t even to follow gravity¡¯s rules.


    Cealith moved. No words. Just steel.


    His blade cut one of them in half. It didn¡¯t bleed. It just , like something had shut off inside it. Carmen drove her spear into the second¡¯s chest and kicked it off, panting. ¡°They die,¡± she gasped. ¡°That means they can be ¡±


    ¡°Hold the line!¡± Nikita roared, slamming his blade through a third one, grabbing a bleeding soldier by the collar and dragging him behind a broken cart. ¡°Get behind cover! Reinforcements will flank in from the west in five!¡±


    He was lying. I could see it in his face. There no reinforcements.


    There was just us.


    We made a barricade out of crates and the body of a collapsed tent. Cealith, Amina, and I crouched behind it. Daisuke was already bleeding from his leg, pressing a cloth to it with shaking hands.


    ¡°I can¡¯t move,¡± he muttered. ¡°Shit¡ªshit¡ªI can¡¯t feel my foot.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Carmen snapped, tossing him a dagger. ¡°They come for us, you stab until your arm gives out.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t sugarcoat it or anything,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Not in the mood.¡±


    Nikita moved like he was made of iron. Shouting orders. Repositioning troops. Killing anything that came too close. But we were spread too thin. Half of Unit 27 was already dead. Another soldier¡ªLukas, I think¡ªwas dragged over the edge of the ridge by three of those things. He didn¡¯t scream. He just vanished.


    That was when Aleks¡ªthe Aleks ¡ªwould¡¯ve broken.


    But something else snapped first.


    Carmen¡¯s breathing got louder. More labored. She was favoring her left side.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, crawling toward her, ¡°You hit?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer.


    I reached her¡ªsaw the blood.


    A deep cut across her ribs. Dark. Ugly. She¡¯d been hiding it. Still fighting.


    ¡°You need to fall back¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking ¡±


    She turned to me, finally. Her eyes were glossy, red around the edges. But her jaw was locked. ¡°If I stop now, I die. If I stop now, you die. So I¡¯m gonna keep standing. And you¡¯re gonna shut up and cover me. Got it?¡±


    I nodded.


    She turned back to the barricade and didn¡¯t say another word.


    Somewhere far across the field, another horn blew¡ªshort, broken.


    A warning.


    Not from our side.


    From someone who didn¡¯t make it.


    Cealith looked toward it, just briefly. I saw it in his face. That tilt of the head. That flicker of recognition. He knew what it meant.


    ¡°We¡¯re cut off,¡± he said.


    Nikita appeared seconds later, covered in dirt and blood, panting hard. ¡°They breached the southern chapel. Dwarves are falling back. We need to move¡ªnow.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡± Amina snapped.


    He didn¡¯t blink.


    ¡°To the inner courtyard. If we lose that¡ªwe¡¯re ¡±


    We didn¡¯t run.


    We our way back.


    The path to the inner courtyard was half rubble, half corpses. Every ten steps, something lunged from the shadows. Aleks of last year would¡¯ve curled into a ball and begged the dirt to swallow him.


    But Aleks today¡ª


    I didn¡¯t have the luxury of fear anymore.


    I dragged Daisuke with one arm, blade in the other. He was bleeding worse now, muttering numbers under his breath, maybe coordinates, maybe prayers. Amina limped beside us, her dagger red and rusted from overuse. Carmen had gone quiet¡ªno jokes, no orders¡ªjust breathing like a furnace and cutting anything that came close. She was bleeding. She didn¡¯t care.


    Cealith led the way, sword drawn, moving like a shadow with purpose. And Nikita?


    He held the flank.


    We reached a choke point near the chapel gate. Half-collapsed stone, charred wood, bodies piled so thick we had to climb over them. Behind it, the last stretch before the inner wall. Our only fallback.


    ¡°Hold here!¡± Nikita barked. ¡°Thirty seconds! We regroup, we move together!¡±


    Carmen leaned against the wall, gasping.


    ¡°I can¡¯t see out of my left eye,¡± she said flatly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t need to,¡± Amina replied. ¡°Just keep the arm with the blade moving.¡±


    Daisuke coughed blood onto his sleeve. ¡°Tell my stats to go fuck themselves.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send them a letter,¡± I muttered.


    We locked eyes. Just for a second. We didn¡¯t say it, but we all knew¡ªthis was probably it.


    Then the second wave came.


    No warning. No horn.


    Just ¡ªand then the sky above us cracked open like glass.


    A rift tore through the clouds. Shadows poured down in sheets, like black rain that twisted mid-air. One of the creatures landed in front of us¡ªmassive, malformed, screaming without a mouth.


    And Nikita went forward alone.


    He didn¡¯t shout. He didn¡¯t look back.


    He moved fast¡ªgrabbing a broken spear, charging the thing like it owed him money, slamming it through its chest and yanking upward. The creature shrieked¡ªdissolved¡ªand behind it, three more came through the gate.


    ¡°Go!¡± he shouted. ¡°NOW!¡±


    ¡°Come with us!¡± Carmen yelled.


    ¡°I ¡±


    He turned¡ªeyes locked on hers.


    And then¡ª


    The spear came from behind.


    Black stone. Silent. Perfectly aimed.


    It pierced straight through his back and out his chest.


    Carmen screamed.


    Amina froze.


    Daisuke stopped breathing.


    Cealith stepped forward¡ªbut it was already too late.


    Nikita dropped to his knees.


    He looked up¡ªat me. Just me.


    His lips moved. No sound. I ran to him, skidding on blood and dirt, catching his shoulders just before he collapsed completely.


    He gripped my coat, blood running from his mouth.


    ¡°You lead them now,¡± he rasped.


    My chest caved in. ¡°No. No, don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them break.¡±


    His hand went limp.


    His head dropped forward.


    And the sky above us


    I stood up.


    I didn¡¯t think.


    I didn¡¯t cry.


    I turned.


    The rest of Unit 27¡ªwhat was left of us¡ªstood frozen.


    Carmen¡¯s eyes were wild. She stumbled to Nikita, dropped beside him, shook him once, twice. ¡°No¡ªno, no, no¡ª¡±


    She hit his chest with a bloodied fist.


    Cealith stepped forward, placed a hand on her shoulder.


    She didn¡¯t move.


    Behind them, another wave of creatures poured through the breach.


    Daisuke looked at me, eyes hollow. Amina stood over him, ready to protect both of us.


    The world felt like it was collapsing.


    And somehow¡ª


    I didn¡¯t feel brave. I didn¡¯t feel strong.


    But I remembered what Nikita had said.


    I stepped forward. My voice cracked.


    ¡°Unit 27¡­¡±


    No one looked at me.


    I screamed.


    ¡°UNIT TWENTY-SEVEN! FORM THE FUCK UP!¡±


    They turned.


    And I raised my sword.


    ¡°Shield wall! Cover the left! Cealith, right flank! Carmen¡ª¡±


    She stood. Tears in her eyes. Blood on her face.


    She nodded once.


    ¡°¡ªfront line with me.¡±


    Amina stepped beside me, gripping her dagger like it was part of her body.


    Daisuke limped up behind.


    And slowly¡ª


    what was left of our unit snapped into formation.


    I turned to face the gate.


    And the Darkness came. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 29:Ashes of Victory

    The sky wasn¡¯t black anymore. It was bleeding. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Fires burned like wounds in the clouds, casting warped shadows across the courtyard. Smoke mixed with the ash of the dead. I couldn¡¯t tell what time it was¡ªmorning? Evening? All of it looked the same now. Grey. Red. Broken.


    Unit 27 was barely standing.


    We¡¯d regrouped at what used to be a small supply post. Now, it was a half-collapsed crater with some crates and splinters pretending to be cover. The bodies around us weren¡¯t even whole¡ªtorn, melted, twisted into angles the human body wasn¡¯t meant to take. You couldn¡¯t look too long at them, or you¡¯d lose your fucking mind.


    Carmen was breathing heavy beside me, her hands shaking, covered in blood¡ªsome hers, most not. Cealith crouched with one knee down, checking a soldier¡¯s pulse. His face gave away nothing, but the way his jaw clenched when he stood told me all I needed to know.


    Dead.


    Amina was already moving again, dragging a corpse off one of the crates to make room for Daisuke, who was coughing into a blood-stained rag. He tried to sit upright, groaned, and then slumped again. He¡¯d taken shrapnel to the thigh hours ago, and we were out of cloth. He used part of his shirt as a bandage. It didn¡¯t help much.


    ¡°Where¡¯s our right flank?¡± I asked, voice hoarse.


    Amina didn¡¯t look up. ¡°Gone.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°Left?¡±


    She stopped, then glanced at me.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t scream.¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer. What the fuck do you even say to that?


    Cealith walked over and leaned against the side of the crate next to me, arms crossed. He stared at the fire line, where the last wave had hit us¡ªbarely repelled. We¡¯d lost two more from our original unit. Ysan was one of them. Good kid. He always gave the new recruits his bread first. His sword was still embedded in the ground a few meters out, and no one had the strength to pull it free.


    ¡°We can¡¯t hold another wave like that,¡± I said.


    Cealith didn¡¯t reply. His silence wasn¡¯t cold. Just real.


    ¡°Tell me I¡¯m wrong.¡±


    He looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡±


    The wind shifted. I could smell something new¡ªburned oil, scorched metal. The kind of smell you only get when something unnatural dies.


    Carmen exhaled hard. ¡°We should¡¯ve died already.¡±


    ¡°No shit,¡± Amina muttered from behind.


    Daisuke let out a dry laugh, half-choked. ¡°Still might.¡±


    I tried to think. I needed a plan. Positioning? Rotations? Distraction tactics? There was nothing left. We were . Physically. Mentally. Even the air around us felt heavy, like gravity itself had decided to give up.


    And the worst part?


    The silence.


    No screams. No metal. No marching.


    Just... stillness.


    That meant another wave was forming.


    It always came right after the silence.


    I stepped away from the crate, toward the edge of the rubble, and looked over the ridge.


    The field was carnage. A smoldering no-man¡¯s land. Bits of armor. Shadows twisted into corpses. Blackened soil that pulsed like it remembered being alive. And across it¡ª


    Movement.


    Slow. Deliberate. Stretching across the entire front.


    They were forming again. Dozens. Maybe more. The creatures weren¡¯t charging yet. They were waiting¡ªlining up. Like they were taunting us. Like they we had nothing left.


    Carmen appeared at my side. ¡°Another wave?¡±


    I nodded.


    She clenched her fists. ¡°Good. I was worried I¡¯d have to sleep tonight.¡±


    I almost smiled. But I looked at her face¡ªreally looked¡ªand saw the red in her eyes. The exhaustion in her voice. She wasn¡¯t joking.


    She was breaking.


    We all were.


    Then¡ª


    A sound.


    No¡ª


    The wind shifted again. But this time, it came from


    Everyone turned. Even Cealith, who never reacted to anything.


    A distant roar echoed through the smoke-choked sky. Not like the others. Not the screams of dying soldiers. Not the screeches of the shadow-beasts.


    Something primal.


    Raw.


    We turned as one¡ªand then we saw it.


    A shape in the sky, piercing through the clouds like a blade of flame.


    The air rippled around it.


    Its wings spread wide. Massive. Leather and fire, ancient and defiant. Its scales shimmered in the orange glow of the burning world, and its eyes burned like molten gold.


    A dragon.


    It roared again¡ªdeeper this time, louder¡ªand the shockwave hit the ground like thunder, knocking dust and ash into a spiraling storm.


    The creatures in the distance froze.


    For the first time since the war began¡ª


    they


    And then it struck.


    The dragon swooped low, jaws wide, and a torrent of flame burst from its throat. Not just heat. Not just fire. Cleansing. The air lit up. The flames erased the creatures, reducing them to shrieks and ash in seconds.


    We didn¡¯t move.


    We watched as hope fell from the sky in waves of gold and red.


    And for a heartbeat¡ª


    the war paused.


    The dragon tore through the sky like vengeance given form.


    Its wings split the smoke with each beat, pushing the haze outward in gusts strong enough to clear the battlefield. For a moment, I could see the entire stretch of no-man¡¯s land¡ªlittered with burning corpses, black blood evaporating on contact with the ground, twisted pieces of armor glinting like shattered teeth.


    The darkness .


    The creatures didn¡¯t scream. They didn¡¯t charge.


    They


    Some stumbled over their own kind in panic, others turned and fled like wild animals sensing a forest fire. The front line¡ªthe same bastards that had torn through our best soldiers without flinching¡ªwas disintegrating.


    And that dragon? It wasn¡¯t done.


    It pulled up high, wings stretching wide, and then dove¡ªmouth opening in a snarl that echoed like a cathedral collapsing. It bathed the retreating monsters in flame. Not normal fire¡ªthis shit didn¡¯t burn. It . The creatures ignited, glowed white-hot, and crumbled into nothing before they even had the chance to hit the dirt.


    Behind me, someone whispered, ¡°Holy shit¡­¡±


    I didn¡¯t look back.


    I watched the flame clear a swath through the enemy lines.


    I didn¡¯t think. Didn¡¯t hesitate. Something inside me snapped into place like a locked gear.


    ¡°CEALITH!¡± I shouted.


    He turned to me, halfway through reloading his crossbow.


    ¡°Right flank! Take two and hold that tree line before they regroup!¡±


    He didn¡¯t blink. Just nodded, grabbed two others, and sprinted toward the eastern trench.


    ¡°Amina¡ªsupport Carmen left side, push them toward the fire!¡±


    Amina looked at me like I¡¯d grown a second head¡ªbut she moved. Carmen didn¡¯t say anything. She was already charging. That wild grief was still in her eyes, but it had found a direction.


    ¡°Daisuke!¡±


    He lifted his blood-soaked head, still lying half-covered in rubble.


    ¡°You¡¯re still breathing, right?¡±


    He grunted. ¡°Debatable.¡±


    ¡°Good enough. Take those three, coordinate fallback and rotate fresh blades. If someone drops, replace them Got it?¡±


    He gave a half-assed salute with a shaky hand. ¡°Sir, yes sir.¡±


    I turned toward the wall of fire and death.


    ¡°Everyone else¡ª¡±


    We pushed forward¡ªnot like a desperate retreat, not like cornered dogs¡ªbut who saw a sliver of light and decided to fucking chase it.


    The dragon tore the skies above us. The battlefield beneath us trembled.


    We followed its flame.


    The ground was slick with gore. One wrong step meant slipping, getting gutted, becoming the next piece of scenery. I saw three of our guys go down¡ªone got dragged by his leg, screaming, until Carmen tackled the beast and ripped its throat open with a broken blade.


    Amina moved like a shadow, in and out, cutting fast and deep. Cealith¡¯s flank held firm; he didn¡¯t yell, didn¡¯t break formation¡ªjust kept swinging like a damn machine.


    And me?


    I was at the front. Breathing fire even when I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Nikita¡¯s sword in my hand.


    My fucking legs on autopilot.


    My heart in pieces¡ªbut pushing anyway.


    One of the larger creatures lunged for me¡ªthree arms, too many teeth.


    I ducked under it, slashed upward¡ªfelt the blade cut through tendon and bone¡ªand didn¡¯t stop moving. Another beast came at me. I pivoted, caught it across the snout, kicked its knee out as it screamed. Drove the sword through its spine.


    Blood hit my face. I didn¡¯t flinch.


    This wasn¡¯t skill.


    It was .


    Pure, burning, fucking rage.


    At some point, the ground started to change. It wasn¡¯t just blood now. It was ash¡ªsoft and thick beneath our boots. The creatures weren¡¯t regenerating like before. They were crumbling. The dragon¡¯s flame did something to them. Undid whatever curse held their bodies together.


    ¡°They¡¯re fucking scared!¡± someone shouted behind me.


    I turned, sword raised.


    ¡°GOOD! LET THEM BE SCARED!¡±


    Carmen broke the line beside me, laughing¡ªher blade singing through two more creatures in a single arc.


    ¡°They¡¯re running!¡± she shouted.


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°¡±


    The next few minutes blurred into instinct.


    Push forward.


    Don¡¯t think.


    Protect the ones behind you.


    Die later.


    My hands were numb. My arms screamed. The sword in my grip felt like it weighed fifty kilos.


    And still¡ªI didn¡¯t stop.


    Eventually¡ª


    Real silence.


    No screeches. No claws. No breathing that wasn¡¯t ours.


    I stood in the middle of the field, surrounded by corpses and black mist curling off the ground like steam.


    The creatures were gone.


    The wave¡ª¡ªwas over.


    We¡¯d survived.


    The battlefield was silent, except for our breathing.


    Not the labored kind from panic¡ªjust the dry, shallow breaths of people who didn¡¯t believe they were still alive.


    I dropped to one knee. The ground was still warm, as if the blood hadn¡¯t decided whether to cool or not. My sword clattered to the dirt beside me. I stared at it for a second¡ªNikita¡¯s sword. It looked heavier now. Like it carried more than just steel.


    Cealith stood a few meters away, still holding his blade. He hadn¡¯t moved since the last creature fell. His eyes scanned the horizon, but his face was empty. Focused. Cold.


    Amina sat with her back against a burnt tree stump, blood drying on her cheek. She looked like she was trying not to blink. Like if she closed her eyes, this would all reset and we¡¯d be back at the beginning again.


    Daisuke was the only one making noise. A low, guttural noise. Half-laugh, half-sob. His arm was wrapped in a strip of torn shirt, shaking uncontrollably. Two other soldiers¡ªwhat was left of Unit 27¡ªsat beside him, staring into nothing.


    And Carmen¡ª


    Carmen wasn¡¯t okay.


    She stood alone, back to the rest of us, arms limp at her sides, staring at the corpses ahead like they might still move. Her shoulders trembled once. Then again. Then she dropped to her knees without a sound.


    I rose slowly. Every part of me ached. My legs were stiff, neck burning, fingers numb. But I walked to her anyway.


    She didn¡¯t react when I knelt beside her.


    ¡°I saw him die,¡± she whispered.


    Her voice was cracked glass. Thin. Fragile.


    I didn¡¯t answer. What could I say?


    ¡°I thought¡ªmaybe¡ªhe¡¯d just been knocked down. That he¡¯d get back up like he always fucking does.¡± Her hands clenched. ¡°He was right next to me, Aleks. Right there. And then he wasn¡¯t.¡±


    I sat beside her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even say anything,¡± she went on. ¡°He just¡­ he just told me to move left. Like it was a normal day. And then I turned and¡ª¡±


    She broke.


    No scream. No sobbing. Just her face folding in as the weight crashed in. Tears poured silently. Her mouth opened like she wanted to scream but didn¡¯t have the air.


    I put my arm around her. She didn¡¯t pull away.


    For a long time, she just cried into my chest. I didn¡¯t speak. Didn¡¯t move.


    The others watched from a distance. Or maybe they didn¡¯t. Maybe they were too far inside their own heads.


    After a while, Carmen pulled away. Her hands wiped at her face, smearing dirt and ash.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I cut her off.


    She looked at me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be strong right now.¡±


    She stared for a second. Then nodded once, jaw tight, and sat down fully, legs crossed, arms resting on her knees. Her eyes were red. Not just from crying¡ª


    A roar split the air¡ªnot close, not urgent. Just a reminder that not everything had stopped.


    We turned as the dragon circled overhead. Its wings carved through the smoke like it belonged in the sky, like it had the right to fly over the corpses below. Its scales shimmered in streaks of bronze and red. The fire was gone from its throat, but not from its presence.


    It didn¡¯t feel like a weapon anymore.


    It felt like a guardian.


    Or maybe a ghost.


    Carmen looked up at it.


    ¡°Do you think it came because of us?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I think it came because this place was dying.¡±


    She nodded slowly.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± she said.


    And it was. For the first time in days¡ªmaybe weeks¡ªI saw something that wasn¡¯t just survival.


    Something .


    Behind us, someone started crying. Not loud. Just the kind of crying that leaks out when there¡¯s nothing left to hold it in. Another soldier fell to their knees and looked at the sky. Another curled up in the mud and whispered a prayer to a god that wasn¡¯t listening.


    Cealith finally lowered his weapon.


    Amina let out a long breath, the kind that sounds like it¡¯s been trapped inside a chest for years.


    Daisuke wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and muttered something about needing a drink.


    And me?


    I looked around at the people I¡¯d nearly lost.


    And for the first time¡ª


    I thought we might have made it.


    We stayed there a while.


    No one moved. Not really. Some sat. Some cried. Some whispered things they¡¯d never say again. The fire had dimmed, the dragon circled lazily above, and for just a moment, the world looked like it had run out of violence.


    Then the sky changed.


    Not the color. Not the clouds.


    The


    I didn¡¯t notice at first. Just a low hum¡ªbarely there. Like the earth was holding its breath. A slow, heavy pressure pushing down on us. Subtle. Relentless.


    My skin prickled.


    Carmen was the first to speak. Her voice cracked. ¡°...do you feel that?¡±


    Cealith turned sharply. His gaze narrowed at the western ridge.


    Daisuke looked up, squinting. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±


    Then we heard it.


    A crack¡ªnot like thunder. Sharper. Higher.


    The kind of sound you don¡¯t hear with your ears.


    The kind you feel in your


    I stood. My legs protested, but I forced them into motion. The wind had died. The smoke had paused midair. Even the dragon¡¯s silhouette froze in place, hovering with wings stretched open as if suspended in glass.


    Then came the light.


    Black.


    Somehow¡­ black.


    A single bolt, like a jagged fracture, tore through the sky and slammed into the dragon.


    The creature screamed¡ªa long, shuddering roar that split the air as its body convulsed, wings spasming, limbs twisting. And then¡ª


    It fell.


    A slow, spiraling collapse, like watching a god lose its balance. It hit the ground in the far distance. The impact shook the earth beneath our feet.


    Silence followed.


    No one spoke.


    Carmen took a step forward. Her voice was barely a whisper. ¡°No¡­¡±


    Then, from the smoke, a figure.


    A rider.


    A horse, limping toward us, its hooves barely making sound against the cracked earth. Its sides heaved like it had been galloping through hell.


    The rider swayed in the saddle. Covered in blood. One arm missing. His body slumped, barely hanging on.


    As he came closer, I recognized him.


    ¡°...Antoine?¡±


    His hair was gone¡ªburned off in clumps. His armor was melted into his skin. His face¡­


    Fuck. His face didn¡¯t even look anymore.


    We rushed toward him.


    ¡°Antoine!¡± I grabbed the reins, caught him as he slipped sideways and nearly fell.


    He looked at me, barely registering my face.


    His eyes were wild. Shaking.


    ¡°They¡¯re dead,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°All of them¡­ They¡¯re dead.¡±


    Carmen stepped forward. ¡°Who? Who¡¯s dead?¡±


    Antoine stared past us.


    ¡°Units One through Twenty-One. The entire front. They sent us to hold the lines. We tried. We held. We ¡±


    His voice cracked.


    ¡°I killed ten. Maybe more. But then it came.¡±


    Amina narrowed her eyes. ¡°What came?¡±


    He turned to me again. Gripped my collar with his one remaining hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is, Aleks,¡± he rasped. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it breathes. I don¡¯t even know if it the way we do.¡±


    He coughed blood.


    ¡°But it came. And when it did¡ªeverything ended.¡±


    ¡°Who came?¡± I asked again, firmer.


    Antoine¡¯s lip quivered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just¡­ I just know we don¡¯t have a chance.¡±


    He pulled me closer.


    ¡°He comes,¡± he whispered. ¡°He comes. He comes. He comes.¡±


    ¡°Where is it now?!¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer.


    He started sobbing. ¡°Please¡­ don¡¯t let it find me. Don¡¯t let it find me again.¡±


    Daisuke stepped forward, stunned. ¡°Antoine¡ªwhat happened to the Legen¡ª?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re gone!¡± Antoine screamed. ¡°GORVAK! GRIMNIR! VELANA! I watched them DIE!¡±


    His voice cracked.


    ¡°I ran. I ran like a fucking coward because I didn¡¯t want to see what it would do to me.¡±


    Then he froze.


    His eyes widened.


    ¡°No¡­ no, no, no¡ªhe¡¯s here. He¡¯s ¡±


    He dropped to the dirt and tried to crawl away. ¡°GET AWAY FROM ME!¡±


    ¡°Antoine!¡± I shouted.


    But then¡ª


    We it.


    Not a sound.


    Not a wind.


    Just...


    The kind that makes your blood forget how to move.


    The land to the west¡ªthe same place the dragon had fallen¡ªbegan to


    Not explode. Not rumble.


    Just¡­ break.


    Like reality had been


    A chasm, slow and impossible, tore through the ridge. Not from force. From


    The air shimmered.


    And something began to walk through it.


    Something that didn¡¯t belong.


    Antoine screamed, pointing with what remained of his hand.


    ¡°RUN! FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD, RUN!¡±

 Chapter 30:The End of the Beginning

    I didn''t blink.


    Antoine''s scream still rang in my ears as he collapsed against a rock, trembling like a child, mumbling to himself, clawing at the dirt as if it would swallow him to safety.


    "He''s coming¡­ he''s coming¡­ don''t let him see me¡­ please don''t let him see me¡­"


    The rest of us stood frozen. Carmen held onto my arm so tightly my skin burned. Cealith''s hand hovered near his blade, though we both knew it wouldn''t matter. Amina and Daisuke were dead silent, wide-eyed and pale. Antoine looked like he''d seen hell¡ªand left part of himself behind.


    Then I felt it.


    Not heat. Not sound.Absence.Like something had eaten a piece of the world whole.


    The clouds shifted.


    But there was no wind.


    Carmen whispered, "What the fuck is that¡­"


    Then the horizon .


    A rift opened, tearing sideways through the air like someone had drawn a jagged line through existence itself. No fire. No lightning. Just¡ªpure void, outlined in a glowless black that shimmered without color. It looked wrong. Like a part of the world that had never been rendered.


    My knees almost gave out.


    "Cealith," I said, turning to him, heart pounding like a war drum. "Take a horse. Get the fuck out of here. Tell the other units about it. Tell everyone."


    He blinked. "Aleks, no¡ª"


    "Go!" My voice cracked. "We don''t have time!"


    He hesitated for half a second¡ªtoo long¡ªbut then he nodded, grabbed the reins from a fallen riderless mount, and vaulted into the saddle. His eyes locked on mine one last time, and I saw it:


    He didn''t think we''d survive.


    But he rode anyway.


    The sound of hooves faded fast. Then silence.


    Only Antoine still muttered on the ground, repeating fragments like a broken record. "He''s here. He''s here. He''s here."


    Then we saw it.


    At the center of the rift¡­ something stepped through.


    Slow. Purposeful. Tall¡ªtoo tall¡ªwith long limbs that bent wrong, like it had learned how to move by watching corpses. Its body was a mosaic of jagged stone and raw sinew, black and gray, but not natural¡ªmore like sculpted from broken nightmares. No face. No mouth. Just a cracked, expressionless skull with a single, pulsing chain hanging from its neck.


    My throat closed.


    Carmen stumbled back. "Aleks¡ª"


    "I see it."


    It didn''t look like a monster.


    It didn''t even look alive.


    It looked like a concept, like something someone tried to forget but couldn''t quite erase. Its steps didn''t echo¡ªbut each one made the dirt decay beneath it.


    Antoine curled into a ball. "He sees me¡­ he sees me¡­"


    The creature stopped walking.


    Its head tilted¡ªslowly, like an insect studying prey.


    And then¡ª


    It screamed.


    Not out loud.


    In our minds.


    A rupture of noise tore through me, a pressure like my skull was cracking open from the inside. Carmen screamed. I fell to one knee. Blood trickled from Daisuke''s nose. Amina threw up. The air itself bent. Trees in the distance ignited without fire.


    And then¡ª


    The explosion.


    It wasn''t fire.


    It was something different.


    Light and dark collapsed into each other, forming a blast that slammed into the ground just meters away from us and . The ground beneath my feet gave way. The world twisted. My ears rang.


    And then¡ª


    Silence.


    Pure. Total.


    The kind that makes you wonder if you''re dead.


    The world vanished.


    There was no light. No sound. No feeling.Only the cold.


    Not physical cold¡ªsomething deeper. The kind that crept into your soul and hollowed it out from the inside, leaving nothing but numbness behind.


    I blinked.


    I was sitting.


    On my bed.


    In my room.


    The familiar buzz of my phone echoed in the quiet. Faint blue light lit up my dark ceiling. TikTok notifications. My lock screen. Battery at 12%.


    What?


    I reached for it. My hand trembled. The moment my fingers touched the screen, a video started playing. A cat falling off a table. Laugh track. I didn''t laugh. I didn''t even blink. I just stared.


    Was this¡­ real?


    I looked around. The same posters. The same worn-out hoodie on the floor. The faint smell of dust and cheap shampoo.


    I was home.


    I was¡­ back?


    But it didn''t feel like home. It felt like a memory someone else had forgotten to let go of.


    I stayed in my room all day.


    Didn''t speak. Didn''t eat. Just sat there, knees pulled to my chest, watching the hours bleed together through the blinds. My phone buzzed, again and again¡ªmessages, memes, something about a party. I didn''t read any of it. I didn''t want to see anyone. I didn''t want to think.


    Because if I did, I''d remember that scream.


    That faceless thing.


    That¡­


    No. Don''t think.


    Just wait.


    But even when the sun went down, I didn''t sleep.


    I couldn''t.


    Because part of me knew that if I closed my eyes again¡­ I wouldn''t wake up here.


    Next morning.


    School.


    Same hallways. Same lockers. Same sick fluorescent lights.


    I walked with my hood up, backpack slung low, head down. I kept telling myself to breathe, but my chest felt too tight. Too hollow. Like something important had been scooped out of me and replaced with glass.


    Someone bumped into me. I staggered. A voice laughed behind me.


    "Watch it, dumbass."


    I kept walking.


    I passed a group of guys by the lockers. The usual crowd. One of them smirked when he saw me.


    "Hey, look who finally showed up. The silent creep."


    My stomach twisted. I kept my head down.


    Another voice¡ªmeaner, more bored.


    "Why do you always look like you''re gonna fucking cry, huh? Got something to say?"


    They shoved me. My shoulder hit the wall.


    I didn''t fight back.


    I never did.


    Another push. My books spilled.


    Laughter.


    "Yo, you gonna pick those up? C''mon, freak. Cry for us."


    My heart pounded.


    I bent down, reached for a notebook.


    Water splashed across my back.


    Someone had dumped a bottle over my head.


    I froze.


    A beat passed. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then a fist hit me in the side. Hard. I collapsed.


    The hallway spun.


    I covered my face, curled up, waited for it to stop.


    They laughed.


    And I said it.


    Softly.


    Broken.


    The laughter didn''t stop.


    And then¡ª


    I came back choking on ash.


    My lungs burned. My throat tasted like iron. I gasped once, twice¡ªand then the world returned, in broken pieces.


    Black rain fell around me.


    Not heavy. Just constant. Steady, thin drops of darkness, seeping into everything. It stank¡ªlike rot, sulfur, burned skin.


    I lay on my back.


    I couldn''t move.


    Something sharp pressed into my spine¡ªshattered stone, maybe a blade¡ªbut I didn''t care. My ears rang. My mouth was dry. My skin tingled like it had been shocked.


    Then I turned my head.


    And I saw her.


    Carmen.


    Or at least¡­ her face.


    Just the face. Staring back at me. . Eyes glassy and wide, locked in whatever horror they''d seen before the end. Her long hair matted with blood, strands stuck to her cheek. Her mouth half-open.


    My stomach flipped.


    I didn''t scream.


    I couldn''t.


    I just lay there.


    Staring.


    Rain tapped against her skin. A slow rhythm. Too calm. Too soft for what it was falling on.


    I turned away¡ªand puked. Hard.


    My whole body trembled. My hands scraped at the ground.


    No.


    No, no, no.


    I looked down.


    My legs¡ª


    .


    There was¡­ nothing.


    Below my knees, just ripped cloth, blood, and mangled stumps. The pain hadn''t even hit yet. Just cold. A dull, creeping cold.


    I tried to crawl.


    Pulled myself an inch. Then another.


    My elbows sank into wet ash. I dragged my ruined body forward, every inch making bile rise in my throat. I moved past a shredded banner¡ªUnit 27. I moved past a burned arm still clutching a blade.


    I saw Daisuke''s glasses.


    Cracked. Bloody. Bent.


    Amina''s scarf tangled in a pile of rubble.


    My voice cracked.


    "What the fuck¡­"


    I laughed.


    A weak, pathetic sound.


    "This is how we die?"


    "This is how I die?"


    I looked up at the sky.


    It wept black.


    And I closed my eyes, waiting to be taken.


    And then¡ª


    Something noticed me.


    I didn''t hear it approach.


    I didn''t feel footsteps. No roar. No scream. Just¡ª


    Presence.


    My body tensed.


    Then¡ªwithout warning¡ªa hand closed around my throat.


    I choked, eyes bulging, as I was yanked off the ground like a broken doll. The force sent pain searing through what was left of my body. Blood dripped from my stump of a leg. My ribs screamed. My vision swam.


    The thing that held me¡ªno.


    The thing that owned the battlefield¡ªtowered above me.


    Ten feet tall. Maybe more.


    A twisted humanoid silhouette, its body an abomination of cracked obsidian plates and sinew that pulsed like it was stitched from shadows. No eyes. No face. Just a split down the center of its head, tearing open into a , rows and rows stretching too deep, too wrong, too endless.


    Its skin radiated hate.


    Its breath reeked of rot, smoke, and the kind of endings no story should have.


    I couldn''t breathe.


    It tilted its head.


    The gaping mouth opened wider.


    A noise that didn''t come from its throat, but from inside my head, like a memory I never had. Deep. Hollow. Cruel. It didn''t laugh like it found something funny.


    It laughed like it already knew the ending.


    My vision blurred.


    I kicked with the leg I didn''t have. My fingers clawed at its wrist. Useless.


    The black crept in again.


    My lungs burned.


    Everything¡ªfading.


    Then¡ª


    A flicker.


    A glow.


    On the creature''s chest¡­ chained to its collar¡­ something shining. Something alive.


    A crystal.


    Pale green. Imperfect. Cracked.


    Familiar.


    I remembered.


    Lydia''s voice.


    I didn''t think.


    Didn''t breathe.


    Didn''t hesitate.


    I reached into my pocket, fingers shaking, and pulled out the shard¡ªthe glass fragment from the ruins. I didn''t know why I''d kept it. I didn''t care.


    I raised my arm.With everything I had left¡ª


    I slammed it into the crystal.


    The moment the crystal cracked beneath the glass shard, time shattered with it.


    A pulse of blinding green surged from the creature''s chest, and it staggered backward like something ancient waking from a dream it never chose. Its obsidian skin splintered, dust falling from its limbs in slow, floating ribbons. The air vibrated¡ªnot with magic, not with divine power, but with the weight of something that wasn''t supposed to exist anymore finally collapsing.


    I dropped to the ground, coughing, vision smeared with blood and light. I dragged myself up just enough to watch it unfold.


    From within the crumbling husk, two massive wings unfurled¡ªwhite, not pure or glowing, but frayed and gray at the tips, like parchment left in the rain. They spread wide as the body split apart, and standing there, where the monster had been, was something else entirely.


    A man. Or what was left of one.


    He was tall, but fragile. Glowing faintly, like a candle nearly burned out. His hair fell in strands of silver, and his robes¡ªif that''s what they had once been¡ªwere tattered and faded, clinging to him like memories. His eyes¡­ his eyes were hollow, deep, older than time, filled with a sadness that didn''t belong to any single moment. It was the sadness of everything lost.


    He stepped toward me slowly, breathing like it hurt.


    "You broke the chain," he said. His voice wasn''t loud, but it sank into the world around us like gravity. "I didn''t think¡­ anyone still remembered."


    I couldn''t speak. My throat was raw, my chest shaking. I couldn''t tell if I was alive or still dying.


    The figure knelt beside me. Not out of reverence, but exhaustion.


    "I don''t have much time," he whispered. "And neither do you."


    I blinked, confused, heart racing. "What the fuck are you?"


    He smiled faintly¡ªlike a man remembering how to smile.


    "I was once¡­ a reminder," he said. "A breath of Him, left behind when everything else was erased."


    His hand rested lightly on my shoulder. Cold. Gentle.


    "What you call the Darkness," he continued, "isn''t a force. It''s not a god. Not even a monster. It''s his absence."


    My breath caught. I didn''t understand.


    He looked up, toward the broken sky. "God has vanished" he said quietly. "He was erased. Removed. Every memory, every trace. This world¡­ your world¡­ every world¡­ it''s bleeding because of that. The absence is spreading. The places where He was¡ªit''s like holes in reality. And that absence is hungry."


    I stared at him. My body trembled.


    "So¡­ what, all of this¡­ all of this war, all this death¡ª"


    "It''s the universe collapsing inward," he said. "And the heavens¡ªwhat you''d call angels, guardians, remnants¡ªwe''ve been fighting it. But it''s not a war we''re winning."


    He touched the center of his chest. His body flickered. His wings dimmed.


    "I can''t fight anymore," he said. "But the storm will return. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But when it comes back, this world will need someone still standing."


    He didn''t ask.


    He didn''t wait.


    He placed his hand over my heart, and began to speak words I couldn''t understand. His voice echoed, low and rhythmic, vibrating through my bones. The ground pulsed with each syllable. My skin lit up. My chest tightened.


    Pain surged through my body¡ªpure, searing, holy pain. I screamed as my nerves ignited. My legs¡ªmy fucking legs¡ªtwisted and reformed, bones stretching, muscles stitching themselves together from nothing.


    Light surged through my chest, through my throat, my fingertips, my spine.


    He exhaled as he gave the last of whatever he was.


    "You are not the chosen one," he murmured. "You were never meant for this. But you survived. And that¡­ that''s enough."


    I collapsed forward, gasping, whole again. Alive again. My hands touched the mud. My knees didn''t buckle. I could breathe.


    But he¡­ he was already crumbling.


    His face sunk inward. His ribs showed. His skin grayed and flaked like ash. Each second aged him decades. His wings folded, feathers drifting down like snow.


    He looked at me one last time, as the wind began to pick up.


    "I will send you forward," he said. "To when the next wave comes. When this world needs you most."


    I shook my head, trying to speak, to ask, to say , ¡ª


    But he raised his hand.


    And with one final whisper, he sealed me.


    "The world ends when no one remembers. So remember."


    Light swallowed me whole.


    The wind stilled.


    The angel was gone. Dust scattered in the wind like old paper. My hands trembled as I looked down at the strange shard still pulsing in my palm.


    Then¡ªsomething shifted.


    The ground groaned beneath me. The sky above began to fracture. Not cloud, not storm¡ªcrack.


    Like glass under pressure.


    My breath caught.


    Stars blinked out, one by one, like dying embers.


    And then¡ª


    A whisper.


    Not from outside.


    From inside my head.


    "Ten thousand years."


    My vision blurred. My legs buckled. The earth twisted below, the sky above.


    "No¡­ wait¡ªwhat the fuck is happening¡ª"


    Pain.


    Not burning. Not cutting.


    Erasing.


    My body¡­ pixelated. Fading. Not dying. Not breaking. Just¡ªbeing taken.


    "STOP¡ª"


    I screamed.


    But it came out warped. Like sound underwater.


    I clawed at the dirt, but my fingers passed through it.


    I saw the battlefield stretch around me, blurred by rain, blood, smoke. Dead bodies. Crushed armor. Torn flags.


    Then, it all fell away.


    I wasn''t standing anymore.


    I wasn''t falling, either.


    I was¡­ suspended.


    A shell of crystal formed around me¡ªslow and silent. Smooth. Cold.


    I pressed my hands against it. My face.


    It didn''t crack.


    Didn''t echo.


    Didn''t let me scream.


    I was trapped in stillness.


    Not dead.


    more like asleep.


    Beneath the battlefield.


    Beneath everything.


    Time stopped being real.


    Dust clung to the stale air, thick and undisturbed for centuries. The corridor narrowed as they moved forward, boots crunching over ancient bone fragments and cracked tiles. The torches flickered against cold stone walls, casting four moving shadows across the decay.


    "Why do these places always smell like dead rats and wet socks?" Kaelin gagged softly, flicking a small ember off her glove.


    "It''s a dungeon," Gorrun replied dryly, his hammer slung across his back. "Not your goddamn perfume closet."


    Serenya giggled, the light from her staff bathing her in a soft blue glow. "At least it''s not crawling with ghouls this time."


    "Yet," Darian muttered, his hand on his sword. His voice calm, but eyes sharp. "Don''t get comfortable."


    They were an odd team.


    Kaelin, the impatient one¡ªfire mage with a sharper tongue than spell.Gorrun, the old-school dwarf¡ªgrumbling through life but the first to swing when shit went sideways.Serenya, the gentle elf¡ªhealer, cheerful, but alert.Darian, human swordsman¡ªex-noble, calm, the one they all quietly followed.


    They passed through two more archways. The path grew colder.


    Then¡­ silence.


    The chamber they entered was different.


    No monsters. No traps.


    Just one thing at its center: a boy, lying on the stone floor. No armor. No weapons. Just a simple, torn shirt and dark pants, half-covered in dust, like he''d been there for centuries¡ªor just collapsed seconds ago.


    He looked¡­ out of place.


    "Wait," Serenya said, rushing ahead. "There''s someone there!"


    "Serenya¡ªslow down," Darian warned.


    But she was already kneeling beside him, brushing dust and soot from his face.


    "It''s a boy. Maybe sixteen? Seventeen? He''s breathing."


    Kaelin scoffed. "Yeah, well, so are most corpses before they sit up and kill you."


    "Then stay back," Serenya shot back. Her fingers hovered above his chest. "Let me do this."


    Gorrun grunted. "I swear, this is exactly how cursed shit starts."


    "I know," Darian muttered, stepping forward anyway.


    Serenya exhaled. Focused. Her hand glowed faintly¡ªjust a soft shimmer.


    "If you''re hurt¡­ let this light find you."


    The boy flinched.


    Then¡ªhis fingers twitched.


    His eyes blinked open.


    Like someone waking up from a verly long dream.


    He looked at Serenya. Then at the others. He didn''t speak.


    Didn''t scream.


    Didn''t move.


    He just stared¡ªlike none of them were real.


    Like he wasn''t sure was real.


    Kaelin¡äs hand hovered over her dagger. "What the fuck¡­"


    Then the boy slowly sat up.


    Cracked his neck. Looked at his hands as if they didn''t belong to him.


    A faint glint of white shimmered in his eyes.


    And then¡ªhe whispered something. So quiet, Serenya had to lean in to hear it.


    "¡­Where am I?"


    End of the Prologue

 Chapter 31:Lost Between Eras

    I woke up to the sound of footsteps. Soft. Careful.


    Something warm cradled the back of my head. Something smooth brushed across my forehead. Fingers? No. Softer than fingers. I blinked against the haze, and the light above me blurred into shapes.


    A face.


    Golden hair. Silver eyes. Ears¡ªlong and pointed.


    An elf.


    I sat up too fast. Pain stabbed through my skull like a nail being hammered in, and I groaned.


    ¡°Whoa¡ªhey, easy,¡± the elf said quickly, catching my shoulders. Her voice was gentle. Not panicked. Calm, but firm.


    ¡°Where¡­¡± My throat scratched. ¡°¡­Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Safe,¡± she replied. ¡°You were unconscious when we found you. Can you tell me your name?¡±


    I opened my mouth, but my stomach lurched.


    I turned and vomited on the stone floor beside us.


    ¡°Oh. Lovely,¡± someone muttered.


    ¡°Not helping,¡± another voice snapped¡ªmale, smooth, tired.


    I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Everything ached. My chest. My ribs. My fingers. But I was alive.


    ¡°I¡ªuh¡­¡± My voice cracked. ¡°Aleks. I think.¡±


    The elf¡ªstill holding me steady¡ªsmiled with a soft exhale.


    ¡°I¡¯m Serenya. You¡¯re lucky we found you before the wargs did.¡±


    Wargs?


    Another voice chimed in¡ªsarcastic and unimpressed. ¡°Okay, I need to ask¡ªwhat the hell was a kid like you doing this deep in a dark zone dungeon?¡±


    I looked up. A woman, maybe late twenties, leaned on a long black staff. Wild, red-blonde curls framed a face full of sharp edges and sharper eyes. Her tone carried bite but no real threat.


    ¡°I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know how to answer. I genuinely didn¡¯t.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I really don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°So, memory loss,¡± the man said. ¡°Great. That makes this much easier.¡±


    He crouched in front of me¡ªtan skin, short brown hair, worn traveling cloak. Early thirties, maybe. His jawline could¡¯ve cut steel.


    ¡°Darian,¡± he introduced himself with a nod, handing me a flask. ¡°Water. Drink slowly.¡±


    I took it, hands trembling.


    The last thing I remembered¡­ was the angel.


    The light. The whisper.


    But before that¡ª


    Their bodies.


    Amina. Daisuke. Lukas. Nikita. and Carmen.


    Carmen¡¯s lifeless eyes still staring at me.


    Like they hadn¡¯t realized she was gone.


    And now I was¡­ here.


    Breathing.


    Alive?


    ¡°I say we finish the job and report it,¡± the redhead said, arms crossed. ¡°We weren¡¯t paid to babysit.¡±


    Darian shot her a look. ¡°Kaelin.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± she sighed. ¡°He¡¯s what, sixteen? Seventeen? I¡¯m just saying¡ªhe¡¯s a walking liability.¡±


    The dwarf behind her scoffed, adjusting the warhammer strapped across his back.


    ¡°Kid''s clearly out of his depth,¡± he grunted. ¡°But we¡¯re not heartless. We bring him out, then decide what to do. Last thing we need is some guilt-ridden ghost haunting our dreams.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I mumbled.


    He raised a bushy brow at me. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. Still not sure you¡¯re not cursed.¡±


    ¡°Gorrun,¡± Serenya said, exasperated.


    He shrugged. ¡°Hey, I said Didn¡¯t say he was.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get moving,¡± Darian said. ¡°This place stinks of rot.¡±


    They argued for another minute, then agreed to escort me back. I wasn¡¯t allowed to fight. Not that I had any weapon¡ªor strength left.


    They formed up around me, like a protective ring, and we started back through the corridor they¡¯d come from.


    No one spoke much.


    The air grew thicker the deeper we moved. I couldn¡¯t tell how long we walked. Ten minutes? An hour? I was just starting to get the feeling in my legs back when Kaelin froze.


    ¡°Shit,¡± she whispered.


    Ahead¡ªmovement.


    Shadows shifting between the broken pillars.


    ¡°Skeletons,¡± Darian said grimly. ¡°We missed a batch.¡±


    Gorrun cracked his knuckles. ¡°Good. I was getting stiff.¡±


    They sprang into action before I could blink.


    Darian moved first¡ªtoo fast. His sword cleaved through the nearest skeleton like it was made of paper. His boots barely made a sound as he vaulted off a crumbled wall and landed behind another, slicing it in half from the back.


    That wasn¡¯t normal. That wasn¡¯t even human.


    The next second, Kaelin raised her staff high. Sparks danced at the tip before a sphere of roaring fire erupted and shot forward, exploding in a blaze of bone and dust.


    My heart stopped.


    ¡°What the hell¡­¡± I whispered.


    Magic. Real, actual magic.


    Serenya stepped beside me, not drawing a weapon, just standing there like a silent shield.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked softly.


    I stared at her. At the battlefield. At the bodies. Then back at her.


    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±


    She blinked. ¡°You mean the fireball?¡±


    ¡°No¡ªI mean¡­ The sword, the flames¡ªhow is that even possible?¡±


    She tilted her head slightly, studying me like I was a puzzle she hadn¡¯t solved yet.


    ¡°You really don¡¯t remember what essence is?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ve forgotten more than I thought.¡±


    The last skeleton collapsed under Gorrun¡¯s hammer. Silence fell again.


    We kept walking.


    Eventually, we reached the exit. The stone gave way to broken earth, and then to the surface.


    The sky greeted me like a stranger.


    It was darker than I expected. Not night¡ªbut clouded, grey, cold. A thick layer of mist clung to the ground. The landscape stretched dead and wide¡ªblack trees, cracked hills, patches of scorched grass. Everything looked¡­ abandoned.


    Wrong.


    There were four horses waiting by the path. Darian tossed me a glance.


    ¡°You¡¯ll ride with someone. You¡¯re still too pale to walk.¡±


    I nodded, barely registering it.


    I was still trying to understand where the fuck I was.


    They mounted up. Gorrun rode alone. Darian rode in front. Kaelin looked annoyed the whole time. Serenya pulled me onto her horse gently and let me rest against her shoulder.


    Her warmth was steady. Her heartbeat calm.


    But mine¡­ wasn¡¯t.


    We rode without speaking for a long while.


    At some point, someone asked, ¡°So¡­ you remember anything yet? Where you¡¯re from? Your family?¡±


    I hesitated.


    ¡°¡­My name¡¯s Aleks,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±


    I didn¡¯t lie.


    But I didn¡¯t tell the truth, either.


    Because how could I?


    They wouldn¡¯t believe me.


    Hell, I didn¡¯t even believe it myself.


    Was this real?


    Or was I just dying somewhere, hallucinating all this?


    No one asked anything more after that.


    The silence returned.


    But something in me had already started to crack.


    The road turned rough the moment we left the cratered earth behind. Tree roots clawed at the dirt like fingers trying to escape, and the mist never fully lifted. It just hung there, thick and stubborn, making the whole world feel like it was holding its breath.


    I hadn¡¯t said a word in what felt like hours. Not that anyone expected me to.


    Serenya¡¯s horse moved smoothly beneath us. She didn¡¯t say much. Just hummed quietly now and then. A song I didn¡¯t recognize. It was soft. Gentle. Sad.


    Eventually, Kaelin broke the silence.


    ¡°So, where the hell you from, Aleks?¡± Her tone was sharp but not cruel. ¡°Because I¡¯ve never seen a kid like you alone in a dungeon. You don¡¯t look like some cursed bastard from Vyrn.¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Right. Convenient.¡±


    Serenya nudged her horse a little faster to ride beside Kaelin. ¡°He¡¯s been through something,¡± she said calmly. ¡°He doesn¡¯t need a trial right now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not putting him on trial,¡± Kaelin shot back. ¡°I just don¡¯t want him to get us killed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a threat,¡± I said quietly.


    Kaelin clicked her tongue. ¡°People who say that usually are.¡±


    ¡°Kaelin,¡± Darian¡¯s voice cut through the tension like a blade. ¡°Let it go.¡±


    She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath.


    We kept riding.


    Eventually, the mist thinned, and I saw something through the fog¡ªstone walls, wooden gates, and a few crooked towers rising like broken teeth. It wasn¡¯t a proper city. More like a fortified settlement. Scarred, weathered, but standing.


    ¡°That¡¯s Lunia,¡± Serenya said. ¡°Trade town on the edge of the dark zone. Safe enough for now.¡±


    Gorrun let out a grunt. ¡°If by ¡®safe¡¯ you mean infested with smugglers, mercs, and half-drunk guards.¡±


    ¡°Still safer than where we just were,¡± Darian replied.


    They dismounted by the gate. Two guards waved them through without much interest. One gave me a second look, but said nothing.


    I stepped through the wooden arch, and it hit me all at once.


    This place¡­ was alive.


    Vendors yelled from booths made of scrap wood and cloth. Blacksmiths hammered at dented armor. Kids ran barefoot between horses and crates. The streets smelled like oil, blood, and bread.


    And everything looked


    Too old. Too different.


    There were signs I couldn¡¯t read. Machines I didn¡¯t recognize. People with clothes that looked stitched from animals I¡¯d never seen.


    I felt like an alien.


    Because I was one.


    They didn¡¯t notice my breakdown. I kept it inside. But something cold settled in my chest that didn¡¯t go away.


    We walked through the market until we reached an inn¡ªlow, square, made of stone. Inside, it was warmer. Not welcoming. Just warmer. A tired old woman at the counter grunted when she saw us.


    ¡°Three rooms,¡± Darian said, tossing her a coin pouch.


    ¡°One,¡± Gorrun added. ¡°We¡¯re not rich.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll share,¡± Serenya said softly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sharing a bed with the red menace,¡± Kaelin snapped.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting the floor then.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    I stood awkwardly near the doorway, still trying to understand where the hell I even was.


    Serenya turned to me, voice gentle. ¡°You should rest. You still look pale.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I lied.


    ¡°You¡¯re not,¡± Darian said. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was a silence after that. Not cold. Just¡­ understanding.


    We went upstairs.


    The room was small, two beds and a pile of old blankets. A cracked window let in some wind.


    Serenya gave me one of the beds without asking.


    I sat down slowly, staring at the floor.


    ¡°You¡¯ll feel better in the morning,¡± she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll figure things out.¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer.


    Because deep down, I already knew.


    There was nothing to figure out.


    I didn¡¯t belong here.


    I didn¡¯t belong anymore.

 Chapter 32:The Gray-Haired One

    The bed was soft¡ªtoo soft.


    I laid on my side, wrapped in a thick woolen blanket, listening to the quiet creak of wooden beams above me. The room smelled faintly of burned oil and aged fabric, mixed with something sweet¡ªprobably the incense someone left burning by the stairs. A small candle on the nightstand flickered against the stone wall, throwing long shadows across the ceiling. Someone had tried to make the room cozy. It wasn¡¯t working.


    My eyes stared blankly into the darkness.


    I hadn¡¯t slept. Not really.


    Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again.


    Carmen''s shattered scream.


    Nikita''s blood-soaked armor.


    The burning dragon falling from the sky.


    Antoine crawling toward us with half his face gone.


    The General. That smile.


    Carmen¡¯s body in my arms.


    I curled deeper into the blanket. My chest felt tight. Breathing didn¡¯t help. The silence in the room wasn¡¯t comforting¡ªit was crushing. Like the world had moved on without me, and I was stuck somewhere in between.


    I whispered to myself.


    I wanted to believe it. I really did.


    But how was I supposed to sleep in a place like this?


    I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My toes touched the cold wooden floor. I had nothing but the basic set of clothes Serenya gave me when I first woke up¡ªan off-white shirt, loose brown pants, and worn boots that didn¡¯t quite fit. There was a coat, too, hanging over the chair. She said it used to belong to one of their former guildmates. It smelled like firewood and lavender.


    I rubbed my eyes and stood up, grabbing the coat.


    Couldn¡¯t just lie here. Not all night.


    I opened the door slowly and stepped into the hallway. It was quiet, except for the soft murmur of voices downstairs and the creak of someone shifting in their sleep behind a nearby door. The inn was old but clean, with warm lanterns on the walls and thick carpets that muffled my steps.


    As I descended the stairs, I heard someone moving near the entrance.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t sleep either?¡±


    It was Darian. He stood by the door with his arms crossed, wearing the same leather coat he always wore¡ªscarred, dark brown, with a steel insignia on the shoulder: the Ashmarked sigil.


    I shrugged. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    He nodded and pushed open the door. ¡°Come on. Fresh air¡¯ll help.¡±


    Outside, Lumina was still asleep¡ªmostly.


    The street was dimly lit by magical orbs floating from iron posts, casting a gentle bluish glow over the cobblestones. The city stretched out in curves and layers, built along the slope of a valley that descended into shadows far ahead. I hadn¡¯t noticed it during the day, but Lumina was massive¡ªbuilt like a spiral, wrapping around a wide crater that faded into mist.


    Dozens of buildings stood stacked atop each other, made from a mix of stone, wood, and some metallic alloy that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Rope bridges, staircases, and narrow balconies connected them like veins across a body. It felt alive.


    Down below, I could see distant orange lights flickering¡ªcampfires, maybe. Or some forge still burning through the night.


    ¡°Beautiful, huh?¡± Darian asked beside me.


    I nodded.


    ¡°You get used to it,¡± he added, then yawned and glanced at the sky. ¡°Sun¡¯ll be up soon. You coming with us to the guild building?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Might as well.¡±


    We met the others by the fountain plaza at the center of the district. Serenya greeted me with a warm smile, her long white coat catching the breeze. She always looked composed¡ªlike she didn¡¯t belong in this chaotic world. Her eyes were gentle, but there was something behind them. Sadness, maybe. Or experience.


    Kaelin was leaning against the fountain¡¯s edge, tossing pebbles into the water. She gave me a half-smirk when I walked up. ¡°Sleep well, pretty boy?¡±


    ¡°Like shit,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Good,¡± she grinned. ¡°Means you¡¯re normal.¡±


    Gorrun didn¡¯t say anything. Just gave me a glance and grunted. Same as always.


    Without another word, the group started walking.


    The Guilder''s Hall was impossible to miss.


    It towered above the rest of the plaza, built from thick blackstone blocks and reinforced with silver inlays that glimmered like veins of light. The massive front doors were open, guarded by two armored sentinels in enchanted plate. Above the entrance, a giant brass emblem spun slowly¡ªshowing a sword, a torch, and a rising sun.


    Inside, it was loud. Not chaotic, but full of motion and life.


    Adventurers sat at long wooden tables, eating, drinking, laughing.


    Dozens lined up by the reception desks to report quests, trade in loot, or post new contracts.


    A massive board stretched across the far wall, covered in parchment sheets and glowing glyphs¡ªjob listings, monster bounties, requests for bodyguards, artifact recovery, escort missions.


    This place was alive in a way that made me feel... dead.


    Like I didn¡¯t belong here.


    Serenya led the way to the front counter. A woman with short dark hair and piercing gold eyes greeted her politely.


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for any missing persons reports,¡± Serenya said. ¡°A boy, around sixteen. Human. Pale skin, dark blonde hair, skinny, probably... lost?¡±


    The woman tapped through a glowing crystal pad, brows furrowing. After a moment, she looked up and shook her head.


    ¡°Nothing matches.¡±


    Darian sighed. Kaelin looked at me, then looked away.


    Gorrun muttered, ¡°Should¡¯ve known.¡±


    I stayed silent.


    As the receptionist continued tapping, I heard them whisper behind me¡ªbarely audible, but enough.


    ¡°We can¡¯t keep dragging him around.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just a kid.¡±


    ¡°A kid who can¡¯t use Essence.¡±


    ¡°He eats, sleeps, takes up space. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°We need to think long term.¡±


    I didn¡¯t turn around. I didn¡¯t have to.


    I knew those words weren¡¯t meant to hurt. But they did anyway.


    The receptionist cleared her throat.


    ¡°If you leave him here, I can contact the local church. They manage a sanctuary for orphans and displaced children. He might find a place there.¡±


    Serenya hesitated. I could feel it.


    But she nodded. ¡°Please do.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± the woman said, then looked at me. ¡°Would you like to wait here?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Sure.¡±


    She gestured to a nearby bench, but I didn¡¯t sit. I just... walked away.


    Toward the bar.


    Toward something else.


    Toward whatever the fuck was waiting on the other side of this mess.


    The bar was tucked into the left side of the guild hall, slightly separated from the noise of the main floor. Still, you could hear everything¡ªboots scraping the wooden floor, chairs being dragged, silverware clinking against metal plates, the occasional explosion of laughter or argument. A haze of smoke hung near the ceiling, mixed with the smell of spiced meat and cheap ale.


    I slipped into one of the corner stools, hoping to disappear.


    The counter was smooth and dark, stained with age. A few adventurers sat nearby, most of them busy drinking or bragging to their guildmates about whatever beast they¡¯d gutted last week. No one looked my way.


    That was good.


    I had nothing left to say. Nothing left to offer.


    No skills. No magic. No place in this new world.


    I just sat there, hands in my lap, listening to the dull throb of my own heartbeat.


    ¡°Hey, kid.¡±


    The voice was low and rough, but not unkind.


    I turned my head.


    Behind the bar stood a woman, probably late thirties. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail streaked with hints of grey, and she wore a loose shirt with rolled-up sleeves, stained with oil and flour. A thin scar ran across her cheekbone, half-hidden by strands of hair. Her eyes¡ªwarm brown, with just a touch of tiredness¡ªlooked me over like she¡¯d already figured me out.


    ¡°You look like shit,¡± she said.


    I blinked. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You want something to drink?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°I... I don¡¯t have any money.¡±


    She snorted. ¡°Did I ask if you had money?¡±


    She disappeared behind the counter and came back a moment later, placing a wooden plate in front of me. Two soft, golden-brown dumplings sat steaming in a shallow bowl, their seams pinched tightly shut. Next to it, a small clay cup filled with a pale purple liquid that shimmered slightly in the light.


    ¡°Dumplings¡± she said. ¡°Stuffed with pork and roots. Family recipe. Drink¡¯s a berry fizz. Non-alcoholic. Unless you want it to be.¡±


    I stared at the food. My stomach growled.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°You can,¡± she cut me off. ¡°Eat. You¡¯re skinnier than a damn scarecrow.¡±


    She walked away without another word, back to cleaning glasses.


    I looked down at the dumplings. Steam curled up toward my face, bringing with it the scent of roasted garlic and herbs. I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but it smelled like heaven.


    I picked one up and took a bite.


    Hot. Soft. Salty. A little sweet. Gods, it was perfect.


    The fizz was tangy and cold, washing down the warmth in my throat. I didn¡¯t even realize how hungry I was until the plate was already empty.


    She came back just as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.


    ¡°You gonna tell me what a kid like you is doing in a place like this?¡± she asked.


    I lowered the cup slowly. ¡°Just... passing through.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Let me guess. Ran away from home. Or orphaned. Or both.¡±


    I said nothing.


    She leaned on the counter with both elbows, watching me.


    ¡°Where you from, really?¡±


    I paused, thinking. Then said, ¡°Small farming village. Out west. Near the edge of the forest, maybe a few days from here. I used to help sell our harvest in Lumina.¡±


    She didn¡¯t blink.


    ¡°That why you look like someone just dug you out of the snow?¡±


    I forced a smile. ¡°Long trip.¡±


    She didn¡¯t push. Just nodded.


    ¡°You¡¯re a bad liar, you know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be good at it.¡±


    That made her laugh. A short, raspy thing. She straightened up and grabbed another glass to polish.


    ¡°Well, kid,¡± she said, ¡°this world¡¯s full of worse things than bad liars.¡±


    We stood in silence for a bit. The noise of the hall seemed distant now, muffled by the moment.


    I looked at her again. Something about her made me feel... safe. Not in a fake, friendly way¡ªbut in the way only someone who¡¯s been through enough shit can make you feel.


    ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± I said.


    ¡°Shoot.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the Dark Zone?¡±


    Her eyes didn¡¯t widen. They didn¡¯t narrow either. She just stopped wiping the glass and looked at me like she was deciding how much to say.


    ¡°You serious?¡±


    I nodded.


    She placed the glass down and crossed her arms.


    ¡°Alright. You asked.¡±


    She leaned on the bar again, arms folded, one eyebrow raised.


    ¡°You ever seen a wound that doesn¡¯t heal?¡± she asked.


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°that¡¯s the Dark Zone. A wound. Still bleeding.¡± Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The way she said it made me pause. No theatrics, no legend-spinning. Just truth, plain and heavy.


    ¡°Long time ago¡ªhell, nobody really remembers when¡ªthere was a war. Not the kind with soldiers and swords. The kind that tears a hole in the world and doesn¡¯t ask for permission.¡±


    She reached under the counter and pulled out a flask, took a swig, then offered it to me.


    I waved it off. She didn¡¯t insist.


    ¡°They say a great darkness rose from beneath the earth,¡± she went on. ¡°Black fog, twisted creatures, corrupted Essence. Cities fell. People vanished. Magic turned on itself. Some say gods died. Others say they never existed.¡±


    She shrugged like she didn¡¯t really care which version was true.


    ¡°All that¡¯s left now is the Zone. In the middle of the continent. Miles of cursed land, tainted air, broken ruins. Monsters crawl outta there like rats from a sewer. And guess what?¡± She smirked. ¡°That¡¯s where all the best dungeons are.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Wait¡ªpeople go there?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Glory, fame, money¡ªsame reasons people climb volcanoes or sleep with nobles. Dangerous as fuck, but worth it if you survive. Lumina wouldn¡¯t even exist if it wasn¡¯t so close to the border.¡±


    She gestured around us.


    ¡°This city runs on dungeon loot. We clean it, sort it, sell it, research it. And when we don¡¯t... we bury the ones who brought it in.¡±


    I looked down at my empty plate.


    ¡°So people die¡­ just to keep this place running?¡±


    ¡°People die every day, kid,¡± she said. ¡°At least here they die for something.¡±


    Her voice was sharp¡ªbut not unkind.


    I leaned forward a little.


    ¡°What about the kingdom? Who runs this place?¡±


    She snorted. ¡°Oh, you mean the royal fuckshow?¡±


    She poured herself another drink.


    ¡°Kingdom of Lydia. Proud banner, pretty soldiers, and a whole lot of smoke up their own asses. Used to be noble, I guess. Back when they actually fought. These days? They sit in their marble castles while the rest of us clean up their mess.¡±


    I felt a chill crawl up my spine.


    She saw the confusion on my face.


    ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I lied. ¡°Just¡­ thought I heard that name before.¡±


    She nodded slowly. ¡°It¡¯s a popular name. Especially among the highborn. They like naming their daughters after queens. Makes ¡®em feel important.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she continued, placing the flask down with a sigh, ¡°you¡¯re not here for politics.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No. I was just curious.¡±


    She looked at me again. Studying me. Like I was a puzzle she couldn¡¯t quite solve.


    ¡°You ask a lot of questions for a kid from a farmer¡¯s village.¡±


    I forced a smile. ¡°Guess I¡¯m just curious.¡±


    She didn¡¯t call me out this time. Just leaned in closer.


    ¡°You want to hear about something actually worth knowing?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Like what?¡±


    She lowered her voice.


    ¡°The Academy of Reslau.¡±


    The barkeeper leaned closer across the counter, her voice dropping like we were swapping secrets in the middle of a battlefield.


    ¡°Reslau,¡± she said. ¡°Now a name you should remember.¡±


    I stayed still.


    She paused, eyes flicking toward a loud group of adventurers near the bounty wall, then back to me.


    ¡°Reslau¡¯s not just a city. It¡¯s city. South enough to touch the edge of nobility, east enough to steer clear of the Zone. The Academy sits at its heart¡ªwhite stone, floating towers, enchantments older than any of us. They say it breathes magic.¡±


    She grinned faintly, but there was a bitterness under it.


    ¡°They also say only the top one percent get in. And guess what most of them have in common?¡±


    ¡°Born rich?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Bingo.¡±


    She straightened up, grabbing a clean glass, spinning it slowly between her hands as she spoke.


    ¡°Every spoiled little noble with a spark of talent gets funneled into the Academy. Trained by Archmages, battle-tested in mock wars, taught how to bend Essence into art. The rest of us? We read dusty books by candlelight and hope the local temple doesn''t run out of healing scrolls.¡±


    Her voice wasn¡¯t angry. It was tired. Like someone who¡¯d stopped expecting fairness a long time ago.


    ¡°They train the best there,¡± she continued. ¡°The elite. The ones people write songs about. You ever hear of the Top Four?¡±


    I shook my head.


    She chuckled, setting the glass down.


    ¡°Course not. You¡¯re from a ¡®farm.¡¯¡±


    That word stung more than it should¡¯ve.


    She went on. ¡°They¡¯re legends. Four warriors, all former students of the Academy, all holding titles granted by the Crown itself.


    I swallowed.


    ¡°And all of them came from Reslau?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Every single one. Taught by the same person, too.¡±


    My heart started to beat faster. Something about her tone shifted.


    ¡°They were trained,¡± she said, ¡°by the founder himself. The Gray-Haired One.¡±


    That name hung in the air like smoke.


    I tried to stay calm. ¡°Who¡­ is that?¡±


    She looked at me like I¡¯d just asked what fire was.


    ¡°An Ascended Elf,¡± she said. ¡°Some say he¡¯s the oldest being alive. Older than the war. Older than the calendar. He didn¡¯t just teach magic¡ªhe it. The way we channel Essence? He laid the foundation for it. Converted wild power into usable flow. The world changed because of him.¡±


    I stared.


    ¡°What¡¯s his real name?¡± I asked, and it came out quieter than I meant.


    She squinted, thinking. ¡°Hm¡­ give me a sec. It¡¯s one of those names you hear once a year and forget until it matters. What was it again¡­ Ce-something...¡±


    My breath caught.


    ¡°Cealith,¡± she said suddenly, snapping her fingers. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s it. Cealith.¡±


    My hands curled into fists under the counter.


    My head swam.


    Was it possible?


    Could he really be... alive?


    ¡°You okay?¡± she asked.


    I blinked and realized I¡¯d gone pale.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I lied. ¡°Just¡­ surprised. That name sounded familiar.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s a legend. Most of us don¡¯t even know if he¡¯s real anymore. They say he never comes out of his tower in Reslau. Probably dying of old age up there.¡±


    I nodded slowly.


    Something had shifted inside me.


    Like a compass needle finally pointing somewhere.


    The barkeeper gave me a look¡ªless curious now, more¡­ thoughtful.


    ¡°You got a name, kid?¡±


    ¡°Aleks,¡± I said.


    She reached over the bar and offered her hand.


    ¡°Marra.¡±


    I shook it.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, and I meant it. ¡°For the food. And the talk.¡±


    She grinned. ¡°Anytime. ¡±


    I stood up from the bar, legs still stiff, heart pounding in my ears. Behind me, the guild bustled on¡ªpeople shouting, laughing, planning their next hunt. The others were probably still at the desk, arranging whatever back-alley orphanage they could dump me into.


    But I wasn¡¯t waiting around anymore.


    I had something now.


    A direction.


    A name.


    If he was still out there... if he was still alive...


    Then maybe this world hadn¡¯t taken everything from me yet.


    Maybe there was still someone who remembered.


    Someone who could tell me the truth.

 Chapter 33:A Place Beside the Fire

    The receptionist looked up as I approached.


    Same woman. Sharp eyes, stiff posture, golden badge on her chest that read "Lunia Guild ¨C Senior Registrar."


    She didn¡¯t smile.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said flatly. ¡°You¡¯re back.¡±


    I nodded, trying not to fidget. My hands were cold.


    ¡°I remembered something,¡± I said. ¡°Just¡­ a name. I think. Someone I knew¡ªmaybe a merchant. I figured if I walk around the markets, I might find him.¡±


    She stared at me, blinking once. Then leaned slightly forward, elbows on the desk.


    ¡°What name?¡±


    Shit.


    I looked past her for half a second, pretending to think.


    ¡°Davan. Or Davin. Something like that. He used to¡­ come by our village to buy grain.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°That so?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Her gaze lingered on me¡ªmeasuring me like a butcher deciding if a cut of meat was worth selling. But I didn¡¯t flinch. Not this time.


    I didn¡¯t time to be afraid.


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said finally, leaning back in her seat. ¡°You¡¯ve got three days. If no one comes forward by then, I¡¯ll report you again. Church will probably take you after that. Maybe.¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply.


    I turned and walked away, heart pounding harder than it should¡¯ve. Three days. Not much¡ªbut enough. Enough to vanish.


    Outside the hall, the morning was in full swing. Lunia buzzed around me like a restless beast. The city was built like a multi-layered crown: circular walls, climbing terraces, narrow bridges connecting districts. Smoke curled from chimneys. Market stalls opened with the groan of wood and clatter of crates. Carriages rattled over uneven stone paths. Somewhere nearby, a blacksmith slammed iron against iron, each strike ringing like a slow war drum.


    I pulled my coat tighter.


    It still smelled faintly like lavender and sweat.


    That¡¯s when I saw them.


    Serenya and the others¡ªAshmarked.


    They were standing near the city¡¯s east gate, packs slung over their shoulders, checking gear. Darian adjusted the strap across his chest. Kaelin stretched one arm behind her head, yawning. Gorrun stood like a stone statue. Serenya was speaking quietly to a young gate officer.


    I hesitated.


    Then walked toward them.


    Serenya noticed me first. Her expression softened.


    ¡°You alright?¡± she asked.


    I nodded. ¡°I will be.¡±


    The others turned as I approached. Kaelin tilted her head, already smirking. Gorrun gave me that unreadable glance. Darian¡¯s brows lifted just slightly.


    ¡°I wanted to say thanks,¡± I said. ¡°For taking care of me.¡±


    They didn¡¯t say anything right away. Just looked at me like they were expecting more.


    I met Serenya¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°I won¡¯t forget it.¡±


    She gave a small nod. Then stepped closer and rested a hand on my shoulder. It was warm.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t waste it.¡±


    That was all.


    Kaelin grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t die, mystery boy.¡±


    ¡°Try not to lose more memories,¡± Darian added, adjusting his sword belt.


    Gorrun didn¡¯t speak. Just gave me a slow nod.


    And then they turned and left.


    No tears. No goodbyes. Just the road swallowing them up like it always did.


    I stood there a minute longer, letting the wind brush my face. I could still see the back of Serenya¡¯s coat as she disappeared into the land beyond the gate.


    Then I turned the other way.


    I had no map. No weapons. No place to sleep tonight.


    But I had a name.


    And just maybe, a reason.


    I didn¡¯t know where I was going. Only that I had to leave.


    The city of Lunia stretched out before me like a tired giant¡ªstone, smoke, and steel, stacked high with people who all had somewhere to be. I didn¡¯t. Not yet. So I walked.


    Past the markets, where vendors shouted over each other, selling charred skewers of meat and glass vials of shimmering blue. Past the training fields where mercenaries beat the shit out of wooden dummies and sometimes each other. Past the temples with their worn steps and cracked prayer plates. The sun hovered behind thin clouds, casting a pale, dusty light across the streets. It felt like the whole city was holding its breath.


    There was a square near the east watchgate where caravans prepared for long trips¡ªnorth to the lake provinces, west to the cliffs of Rion, south toward the edge of the Dark Zone. Or east, toward Vetra and eventually Reslau.


    That¡¯s where I went.


    That¡¯s where the voices got louder. Harsher.


    ¡°Can¡¯t take another mouth, kid.¡±


    ¡°You look like a wet scarecrow.¡±


    ¡°Essence-less? What the fuck do you bring to the table then, huh?¡±


    I didn¡¯t argue. Just kept trying.


    Most of them weren¡¯t even cruel¡ªjust practical. Mercenaries, traders, guards. They looked at me and saw a liability. I didn¡¯t blame them. Hell, if I were in their boots, I¡¯d probably say the same thing.


    I had no Essence. No money. No reputation.


    All I had was an old coat, a dull eating knife, and a few scraps of food stuffed into a cloth bag. I still wore the shirt Serenya had cleaned for me. My boots were secondhand and one size too big. My left one squeaked every few steps.


    I stopped to sit on a stone bench near the edge of the square, rubbing my temples. I¡¯d been walking for hours, and the ache in my legs told me I wasn¡¯t as tough as I wanted to be.


    I didn¡¯t notice the old man until he was already beside me.


    ¡°Long way to sit for someone with nowhere to go,¡± he said.


    His voice was dry, but not brittle¡ªlike cracked bark. I turned my head and saw him watching the road like he was waiting for it to speak to him.


    He looked... weird.


    Not in a threatening way. Just wrong for the setting.


    He wore a wide-brimmed hat that was too old to be stylish and too new to be antique. His cloak was patchy, but clean. His boots were wrapped in an extra layer of cloth, tied with blue string. His eyes were grey¡ªnot cloudy or faded, just... still. Like the kind of still water you never trust.


    I said nothing.


    He looked at me.


    ¡°Let me guess. No coin, no magic, no ride.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You stalking me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d have to care more to be a stalker,¡± he said. ¡°Besides. You look like every other desperate boy in this city.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡±


    He leaned back and cracked his knuckles. ¡°Name¡¯s Brynn. I¡¯m headed northeast. Vetra. Might cut down through the hills after that, maybe Reslau.¡±


    My heart jumped, but I kept my face still.


    ¡°I¡¯m Aleks,¡± I said. ¡°You going alone?¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning to. But most people don¡¯t like traveling with a man who hears voices in trees.¡±


    I stared.


    He didn¡¯t flinch.


    ¡°I¡¯m joking,¡± he added after a long pause. ¡°Mostly.¡±


    I was starting to understand why no one wanted to ride with him.


    He stood up suddenly and waved me toward a nearby wagon. ¡°Come on. You¡¯ll meet the rest.¡±


    I followed.


    The wagon was small, two-wheeled, pulled by a fat grey mule with an attitude. Three people stood around it, checking supplies and arguing over a map spread across a crate.


    One was a tall woman with her hair pulled into a messy braid, sleeves rolled up, arms scratched from brambles. Her face was angular, eyes narrow, and the way she stood¡ªweight shifted to one leg, arms crossed¡ªscreamed even before she looked at me.


    Next to her was a man built like a siege tower. Shaved head, heavy leather coat, massive sword strapped across his back. His nose looked like it had been broken three times and never healed right. He barely looked at me. Just nodded once and went back to adjusting the wagon.


    The third was a younger guy with too many bags and not enough common sense. He had curly hair, ink-stained fingers, and a grin that made me uncomfortable. He was fiddling with a compass that wasn¡¯t pointing north.


    Brynn raised a hand. ¡°This here¡¯s Mira, Toma, and Leif. Don¡¯t piss them off.¡±


    Mira glared. ¡°We don¡¯t need more strays.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not a stray. He¡¯s a... temporary asset.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need assets. I need someone who won¡¯t scream the first time a wolf shows up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t scream,¡± I said.


    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh, he talks.¡±


    Brynn looked between us. ¡°He pulls his weight, you let him stay. Deal?¡±


    Mira didn¡¯t answer. She just went back to tying down a pack.


    Toma gave me a single glance, then turned to the mule. I heard him whisper something to it. The mule farted in response.


    Leif walked over and shoved a bundle into my arms.


    ¡°Here. Spare blanket. You get half a bedroll. You snore, I stab.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    He grinned. ¡°Knew you¡¯d fit right in.¡±


    We left Lunia just after noon.


    The city gates groaned open behind us like the jaws of something ancient and tired, and then we were out¡ªon a dirt road flanked by fields of swaying grass and low stone walls crumbling with age. No music, no fanfare. Just the squeak of wheels and the distant cry of birds.


    The first few hours were quiet. Mira walked ahead, eyes sharp and focused, as if she expected something to leap from the trees at any moment. Toma drove the mule with slow, steady movements, barely speaking. Brynn hummed some tune I didn¡¯t recognize, and Leif kept trying to talk to me about spice trade routes until Mira told him to shut the hell up.


    I kept my head down and walked.


    The air out here smelled like fresh earth and pine. Patches of wildflowers lined the roadside¡ªorange, purple, some glowing faintly in the shade. Insects buzzed, distant birds circled overhead, and the occasional breeze brought the scent of wet bark and smoke from faraway farms.


    It should¡¯ve felt peaceful.


    It didn¡¯t.


    Not for me.


    Somewhere past the third hill, I slowed down, pretending to check the pack Leif gave me. In truth, I just needed a second to breathe. I sat on a low rock at the edge of the road, my coat tugged tight around me.


    The others didn¡¯t notice.


    Or maybe they did and didn¡¯t care.


    I looked at the dirt between my boots.


    What the fuck was I doing?


    Seriously.


    I used to sit in my room all day. School was hell, but at least it was predictable. Then the invasion, the flames, the screaming, the sky ripping open¡ªand now? I was walking through some fantasy-ass countryside with a bunch of people who probably wouldn¡¯t even remember my name a week from now.


    Was this even real?


    Was I in a coma?


    Maybe I hit my head when the world ended. Maybe I was in a hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of machines, and this was all one long, drawn-out hallucination created by my fucked-up subconscious. Would explain the elves. And the dragon. And the fact that everyone here was either hot or terrifying.


    Or maybe this was a simulation. A punishment.


    Some twisted god playing Skyrim with real people and no mod support.


    I rubbed my face with both hands, sighing.


    ¡°No sense losing your mind twice,¡± I muttered.


    Then I stood up and kept walking.


    By sunset, the landscape changed.


    The hills gave way to clusters of birch and pine, and the road dipped into a shallow valley surrounded by trees. The wind turned colder, the sky painted in soft orange and violet hues. A stream trickled through the trees on the left, its water clear and fast. Somewhere in the distance, I heard wolves howling¡ªnot close, but close enough to make me check over my shoulder.


    Brynn called a halt when the shadows grew long.


    We camped just off the road in a clearing bordered by mossy stones and old tree roots. Toma unhitched the mule. Mira gathered dry wood without needing to be told. Leif tried to light a fire with flint and failed twice before Brynn leaned down and snapped his fingers.


    A spark flared, caught, and danced.


    The flame grew quickly. Warmth spread.


    I sat by the edge of the fire, my back against a fallen log. I hadn¡¯t spoken much since we left the city. No one seemed to mind.


    Mira cooked something over the flames¡ªthin strips of meat in a metal pan, with sliced root vegetables and dark sauce from a leather flask. The smell was rich, earthy. My stomach growled, embarrassingly loud. She didn¡¯t look at me, but she handed me a wooden bowl first.


    I blinked. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°If you die on the road, I¡¯m not carrying your body. So eat.¡±


    Fair enough.


    As we ate, Brynn spoke. Of course he did.


    ¡°You know,¡± he said, staring into the fire, ¡°there¡¯s a forest three days from here where the trees hum at night.¡±


    Leif looked up. ¡°What, like... singing?¡±


    ¡°More like remembering,¡± Brynn said.


    Mira rolled her eyes. ¡°Please. Not the humming trees again.¡±


    ¡°No one ever comes back from that place,¡± he said.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s a legend.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a legend if you believe it.¡±


    ¡°Then I believe you¡¯re full of shit.¡±


    Brynn smiled.


    Toma didn¡¯t comment. He rarely did. But every now and then, I saw his hand drift to the hilt of his blade. Like his body was always one heartbeat from violence.


    I stayed quiet, watching them all. These weren¡¯t friends. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But they weren¡¯t pushing me away. And that was enough for now.


    As the fire cracked lower and the stars came out, Brynn looked across the flames at me.


    ¡°What about you, Aleks? What are looking for?¡±


    I paused.


    Thought about lying.


    But then I said:


    ¡°Someone I used to know. I think he¡¯s still out there. In Reslau.¡±


    Mira didn¡¯t react.


    Leif nodded, like it made perfect sense.


    Brynn¡¯s eyes, though¡ªthey lingered on me longer than I liked.


    He didn¡¯t smile this time.


    He just said, ¡°The road remembers things we try to forget.¡±


    Then he stood up and walked off into the dark.


    We reached an village just before nightfall.


    The sun was sinking behind the treeline, turning the sky into a long bruise of gold and violet, and the road had narrowed into something barely more than a trail¡ªdirt packed hard by wheels and hooves, with tufts of wild grass breaking through in the center. The forest had pulled back slightly, leaving behind a low clearing where the village sat like a collection of forgotten thoughts.


    I don¡¯t know what I expected from a rural outpost in the middle of nowhere.


    But it wasn¡¯t this.


    The first thing I noticed was the stillness.


    No laughter. No music. No dogs barking. Just wind brushing through the grass like a whisper too quiet to catch.


    Wooden homes with thatched roofs stood on uneven foundations, crooked and weather-stained, as if they¡¯d leaned into the wind too long and forgot how to stand straight. Runes were carved into every doorway¡ªsome simple protection glyphs I vaguely recognized, others unfamiliar, like a language older than words.


    Smoke curled from chimneys, but no one stood outside. No farmers. No children. Not even the usual bored guard leaning on a spear.


    It felt like walking into the aftermath of something no one wanted to talk about.


    Brynn stopped at the edge of the square and tapped the side of his staff against the cobblestones. ¡°Welcome to Grava,¡± he said, not sounding particularly welcoming.


    ¡°Place looks cursed,¡± Mira muttered.


    Leif let out a low whistle. ¡°I thought villages were supposed to be lively.¡±


    Toma didn¡¯t say anything. His hand rested near the grip of his sword, thumb brushing the edge of the hilt in small, silent movements.


    I looked around, uneasy. The buildings were intact. The fields we passed were half-harvested. There were signs of life, sure¡ªbut no people.


    That was somehow worse than blood on the walls.


    We passed a small well in the center of the village. The rope hung slack, bucket missing. Around it stood three poles with wind charms tied to them¡ªbundles of feathers, bones, and thread.


    Only one of them was spinning.


    ¡°Should we announce ourselves?¡± I asked.


    Mira scoffed. ¡°What do you think we¡¯ve been doing?¡±


    Brynn motioned us forward. ¡°Someone will come. Eventually.¡±


    We moved toward the largest building¡ªprobably the town hall, or what passed for one. It was two stories tall, sloped roof, shuttered windows, a warped wooden door with a worn brass handle.


    We stopped there. Waited.


    I tried not to fidget, but every minute that passed stretched thin like skin over bone.


    Then finally, the door creaked open.


    A man stepped out.


    Middle-aged, pale, bald, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn¡¯t slept in a week. He wore a leather vest over a linen shirt and held a heavy wooden walking stick, more for show than support. His eyes flicked from face to face, finally settling on Brynn.


    ¡°You travelers?¡± he asked, voice hoarse.


    ¡°Passing through,¡± Brynn said calmly. ¡°Need a place to rest. We can pay.¡±


    The man nodded slowly. ¡°Not much left. But there¡¯s room in the storehouse. It¡¯s dry. Warm enough.¡±


    Mira opened her mouth, probably to argue, but Brynn silenced her with a slight shake of his head.


    ¡°Grateful,¡± he said. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The man didn¡¯t respond right away. Then he added, ¡°No noise after dark. No lights in the windows. And if you hear something call your name... don¡¯t answer.¡±


    Then he turned around and shut the door.


    We stood there in silence.


    Leif broke it first. ¡°Well that¡¯s not creepy at all.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s just dramatic,¡± I said.


    ¡°No,¡± Mira muttered. ¡°This place is wrong.¡±


    Brynn smiled faintly. ¡°Wrong places have the best stories.¡±


    Toma grunted.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to feel.


    I mean, yeah, it was weird. More than weird. But after everything I¡¯d seen, everything I¡¯d survived... some quiet guy with bad sleep hygiene wasn¡¯t enough to shake me.


    Still.


    As we followed the path toward the storehouse, I kept looking back. At the windows. At the door. At the empty road behind us.


    And even though no one was there...


    I swear I felt eyes watching from the trees.

 Chapter 34:The Village

    I didn¡¯t sleep much that night.


    The storehouse where we were staying creaked like it remembered things it didn¡¯t want to. Old beams. Thin walls. No windows. The only light came from the fire Leif had managed to build out of half-dry hay and broken crates.


    I lay on my side, arms tucked under my head, staring at the wooden wall just inches from my face. My stomach still ached from the rations earlier. Or maybe from the silence. Or maybe from everything.


    Somewhere, far away in the dark, I thought I heard a voice. A child¡¯s voice.


    Just a whisper.


    But I didn¡¯t move. I just held my breath until it passed.


    Morning didn¡¯t change much.


    The sun was pale and lifeless through the mist. Grava looked exactly the same as it had the night before¡ªlike it had been abandoned by time itself.


    We ate in silence. Mira didn¡¯t talk. Toma chewed slowly, eyes on the door. Leif tried to crack a joke about the taste of the bread but no one responded.


    Even Brynn was quiet.


    I thought maybe we¡¯d just pack up and leave. Keep walking. Pretend this place never happened.


    But then she came.


    The knock was soft, almost too soft to notice. Mira was the one who opened the door.


    The woman who stepped inside looked like she¡¯d walked through hell barefoot.


    Her clothes were torn and soaked with morning dew. Her hair, once probably long and black, was a tangled mess. Her face was pale¡ªgray even¡ªbut her eyes were what caught me. Not just red from crying. Not just tired.


    Empty. Like something inside had already died.


    She didn¡¯t say anything at first. Just stood there, breathing through her nose, hands clenched into trembling fists.


    Then she dropped to her knees.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said.


    Her voice was cracked, like glass under pressure. ¡°I know I¡¯m not supposed to¡­ I know outsiders shouldn¡¯t¡ªBut please. Please, gods, help me.¡±


    We froze.


    Brynn stepped forward carefully. ¡°You¡¯re not in trouble, miss. Breathe. Tell us what happened.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No. No time. You need to listen¡ªjust¡ªplease listen.¡±


    And then she told us.


    ¡°My name is Elira,¡± she said. ¡°My son¡¯s name is Deren. He¡¯s seven. Tomorrow... they¡¯re giving him to the Hollow One.¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand at first.


    But Mira did. Her shoulders tensed like she¡¯d been struck.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said. ¡°Giving?¡±


    Elira nodded. ¡°We... we made a pact. A long time ago. Before I was born. Before any of us were born. The Hollow One came when the children began to vanish. One by one. Always at night. Nothing could stop it.¡±


    She looked down. ¡°Then the elders made a deal. One child. Every so often. Just one. If we give one, the others stay safe.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s insane,¡± Mira muttered.


    ¡°It works,¡± Elira whispered. ¡°It .¡±


    I felt cold. My fingers were numb.


    ¡°You¡¯re sacrificing your own children?¡± Leif said, barely believing it.


    Elira looked up. Her voice was raw now, like it hurt to speak.


    ¡°We to. You don¡¯t know what it does when it¡¯s angry. What it sounds like when it¡¯s hungry. The last time someone refused¡ªthree children died that same night. Not taken. ¡±


    She reached into her coat and pulled out a bundle of fabric, tied with twine. Her hands shook as she laid it on the table in front of us.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care anymore,¡± she said. ¡°Take it. It¡¯s all I have. Everything. Just... save him.¡±


    No one moved.


    Even Brynn looked unsure. For the first time, he had no cryptic smile. No wise old line. Just silence.


    Elira knelt lower, her forehead pressing to the floorboards. ¡°Please. He¡¯s all I have left. Please.¡±


    I didn¡¯t look at the others.


    I didn¡¯t need to.


    I already knew what they were thinking.


    Not our problem.


    Too dangerous.


    We¡¯d leave tomorrow, same as always.


    But I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    I stared at her, this woman shattered in front of us, and something in my chest twisted so hard I thought I might throw up.


    What if this was real?


    What if this whole fucked-up world was real and this was my chance? My trial?


    What if¡ªif I did the right thing¡ªsomehow, some way, I¡¯d wake up in my room again? In my bed? Back in a world that made sense?


    Or maybe... maybe it didn¡¯t matter.


    Maybe doing the right thing was just the right thing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I said quietly.


    The others looked at me like I¡¯d lost my mind.


    Toma narrowed his eyes. ¡°You?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even have Essence,¡± Mira snapped. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re going to do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯m not walking away. Not from this.¡±


    Leif let out a laugh. ¡°You gonna punch it to death with your moral compass?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    I stood up. ¡°You don¡¯t have to come. None of you do. But I will. Even if I¡¯m the only one.¡±


    Nobody said anything.


    The fire popped.


    And then Brynn chuckled softly. ¡°Maybe the boy¡¯s right. Maybe this is one of those moments the road remembers.¡±


    He turned to Elira. ¡°Tell us everything.¡±


    Elira¡¯s hands trembled as she pulled something from her satchel.


    It was wrapped in cloth. Thick, off-white, stained around the edges like it had soaked in blood or oil decades ago. She placed it on the table with the same reverence a priest might offer a relic.


    ¡°This,¡± she whispered, ¡°is the vessel.¡±


    She unwrapped it slowly.


    Inside was a lantern¡ªunlike any I¡¯d ever seen.


    It was made of dark brass, scorched black in places, with runes carved deep into the metal frame. The glass sides were tinted red¡ªnot painted, but like the color was inside the glass itself. It looked old. Not ancient like something buried in a tomb, but old like a curse that had been passed down too long.


    ¡°This is what binds it,¡± Elira said. ¡°If you speak the words while its form is weak, the Hollow One will be sealed. For a time.¡±


    Mira folded her arms. ¡°You knew how to trap it and you still let your son be taken?¡±


    Elira didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°I didn¡¯t . My husband died trying to fight it. My brother too. The elder keeps the words locked away¡ªhe says no one¡¯s worthy.¡±


    She looked at me.


    ¡°But I remembered. I watched him once. When he didn¡¯t know.¡±


    I leaned in.


    ¡°What do I have to say?¡±


    Elira hesitated, then reached into her coat again and pulled out a torn scrap of parchment. She slid it toward me.


    The letters were jagged, like they¡¯d been scratched by a dull blade. They curved in strange directions, some of them looping into each other like vines or tendons. I didn¡¯t recognize the script¡ªbut something about it felt . Like it wasn¡¯t meant for living mouths.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to memorize it,¡± she said. ¡°The lantern won¡¯t respond if you read. You have to speak it like you mean it.¡±


    ¡°Does it hurt?¡± I asked before I could stop myself.


    She didn¡¯t answer.


    We spent the rest of the day preparing.


    Leif cleaned his daggers and tried to joke like everything was normal. Toma sharpened his sword in silence. Mira paced like a caged wolf, muttering to herself. Brynn just stared at the forest, tapping his staff rhythmically against the stone.


    And I practiced.


    Over and over.


    The words didn¡¯t make sense. They felt like they stuck in my throat, like they didn¡¯t want to come out clean. I wasn¡¯t sure if I was saying them right. But I kept going.


    Because I had to.


    At dusk, the village gathered.


    The ceremony was short.


    No one cried.


    Deren, the boy, wore a white linen robe with a black sash tied around his waist. His dark hair was brushed. His feet were bare. He held a single candle in both hands as he walked down the center path of the village, and all the others¡ªmen, women, even children¡ªstood in silence on either side, heads bowed.


    He didn¡¯t look scared.


    He didn¡¯t look anything.


    The Hollow One had already taken that from him.


    They brought him to the barn.


    Not a sacred temple. Not a chamber of ancient stone.


    Just a fucking barn.


    Half-collapsed. Smelled like piss and old hay. One of the roof beams was snapped in half. There was a pit in the back where water had gathered over the years, now thick and black.


    They laid him in the straw like he was going to sleep.


    Then they left.


    The group stayed silent as we waited outside.


    Mira broke the silence. ¡°This feels like suicide.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Toma said flatly.


    Leif leaned against the doorframe. ¡°If I see one more nightmare beast this year, I¡¯m retiring.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a job,¡± Mira muttered.


    Brynn chuckled. ¡°We all retire. Eventually.¡±


    I didn¡¯t laugh.


    I stared at the barn.


    I could still see the flicker of Deren¡¯s candle through a crack in the boards.


    And I kept repeating the words in my head.


    We took our positions.


    Mira hid behind the crates of dried grain, blade drawn. Toma crouched in the shadows near the back door. Leif was in the loft above the hay. Brynn stood near the altar they¡¯d made of stones and salt, his staff already humming softly with the Essence he¡¯d stored.


    And I¡­ I held the lantern.


    Its glass felt warm against my palm.


    Almost alive.


    I crouched behind a broken bale of straw and waited.


    Breathe in. Breathe out.


    Wait for it to come.


    Wait for it to want.


    The moment it arrived, I stopped breathing.


    It didn¡¯t walk in.


    It into the barn through the cracks in the wood¡ªslow at first, like smoke rising from rotten soil. The light in Deren¡¯s candle twisted, pulling sideways, then flickered out completely. The barn went black.


    Something scraped across the roof.


    Something long.


    The air turned wet. Thick. Breathing felt like swallowing cold syrup.


    Then it stepped through the darkness.


    Not smoke.


    Not shadow.


    It had .


    It stood nearly twice the height of a man, with limbs too thin to hold weight, bending at angles no bones should. Its torso pulsed like a sack full of worms. Where its face should¡¯ve been was a porcelain mask¡ªcracked down the center, with no eyes, no mouth, only a single black slit running vertically where a nose might have been. From that slit, something dripped.


    Its arms dragged the ground.


    Its skin¡ªif it skin¡ªlooked like parchment soaked in ink. Translucent in places. You could almost see things writhing underneath it, like something else was trying to break out.


    It didn¡¯t speak.


    It didn¡¯t have to.


    We felt it.


    Something inside our heads twisted. Memory. Grief. Guilt. It wore our fears like a cloak, and it knew we were watching.


    It looked at Deren.


    And bent down.


    My whole body screamed to move, to do ¡ªbut I was frozen. The lantern in my hand buzzed with barely-contained energy, pulsing against my skin like a heartbeat.


    Toma moved first.


    He charged with a low grunt, sword slicing sideways.


    It cut into the creature¡¯s shoulder¡ªand stuck. The Hollow One didn¡¯t react. It turned, fluid and snapping like broken wood, and smashed him aside with a single blow. Toma hit the beam behind him and dropped, unmoving.


    Mira let out a wordless scream and lunged. Her twin daggers flashed with Essence¡ªcutting, burning. She carved across its chest. It staggered.


    Leif dropped from the rafters, stabbing down.


    The creature shrieked.


    Not with a voice. With ¡ªchildren crying, women begging, wood cracking, blood boiling, all in one broken chord that filled the barn like fire.


    ¡°NOW, ALEKS!¡± Brynn shouted. ¡°THE WORDS!¡±


    I raised the lantern. My heart slammed against my ribs.


    The chant was a blur in my head. I tried to recall the syllables¡ª


    The light inside the lantern flared¡ª


    But then it looked at me.


    And it .


    I didn¡¯t see it cross the space. One breath it was across the barn, the next¡ª


    It was on me.


    A hand like black branches slammed into my chest, tossing me back like I weighed nothing. I hit the wall. The lantern slipped from my hand¡ªtime slowed¡ª


    it struck the ground¡ª


    Shattered.


    ¡°No¡ª¡± I choked, trying to rise.


    Too late.


    The Hollow One , the sound warping the walls.


    Then it turned and reached for Deren.


    And there was nothing we could do.


    It grabbed him like a puppet and¡ª


    Tore him in half.


    Blood splattered across the straw. His head hit the ground with a soft, final thud.


    Mira screamed. Leif shouted something. Brynn cursed in a language I didn¡¯t know.


    I couldn¡¯t move.


    I was bleeding.


    I was¡ª


    Useless.


    Then the creature turned back to me.


    It didn¡¯t run.


    It .


    Like a nightmare dragging itself toward a familiar dream.


    It raised a claw.


    I raised a hand.


    No words. No chant. Just¡ª


    A flash.


    White.


    Gold.


    Shattered glass.


    The barn exploded in light.


    The creature stopped mid-motion. Its mask split in half. Essence¡ªreal, raw, divine¡ªsliced through its body like lightning through paper.


    It let out one final shriek, a sound like a dozen children screaming ¡ª


    And it crumbled.


    Dust.


    Silence.


    Gone.


    I stood there, hand raised, bleeding from the stomach, still shaking.


    Then Leif stepped forward.


    He didn¡¯t look amazed.


    He looked pissed.


    ¡°You lied,¡± he said.


    I didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°You said you couldn¡¯t use Essence.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know¡ª¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t just Essence,¡± Mira whispered, stepping closer. ¡°That was Holy Essence.¡±


    Everyone went quiet.


    Even Brynn.


    I turned, staggered to Deren¡¯s body.


    He was cold.


    Still.


    I looked at Mira. ¡°Can you heal¡ª¡±


    She shook her head slowly.


    ¡°His soul¡¯s gone.¡±


    And then¡ª


    Dust.


    Movement.


    Tiny bodies began to form in the barn, like ash reversing time.


    Children.


    Dozens of them.


    All still. All pale. Their eyes open. Vacant.


    No souls.


    No breath.


    Just... bodies.


    The ash hadn¡¯t even settled when the barn door creaked open.


    A silhouette stood there, frozen in the frame.


    Then a scream¡ªhigh, sharp, human.


    The figure stumbled back, calling out in panic.


    More followed.


    Boots slammed into mud. Voices collided. Then came the torches.


    Villagers.


    Dozens.


    They poured in like a wave of insects¡ªmen, women, elders, all clutching whatever tools they could find. Their faces weren¡¯t confused. They weren¡¯t scared.


    They were .


    Their eyes locked on the ash still floating in the air.


    The broken lantern.


    The unmoving bodies of the children laid out like discarded dolls.


    And the corpse of Deren, torn and twisted in the straw.


    Then Elira entered.


    The moment she saw her son, she froze.


    Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees, hands trembling.


    She didn¡¯t scream at first. She didn¡¯t cry.


    She .


    Over straw and blood, dragging herself with clawed fingers until she reached his side.


    ¡°Deren¡­¡± she whispered.


    She touched his face. Brushed the blood from his cheek with her sleeve. Her breath caught in her throat.


    Then she broke.


    The scream that came out of her didn¡¯t sound like it came from lungs.


    It was deep. Ripping. A sound made of all the things that don¡¯t have words.


    She clutched his body against her chest and wailed like the world had ended.


    And for her¡ªit had.


    "You promised..." she gasped. "You ..."


    Each word was a punch to my chest.


    I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t speak.


    She wasn¡¯t looking at me, but I knew she meant me.


    Her fingers curled into her son¡¯s robes. Her head bowed. Her screams turned into gasps. Then sobs. Then just shaking.


    The elder entered last.


    He didn¡¯t say a word.


    Just stared at the scene.


    His eyes swept across the barn¡ªfrom the dead children to the shattered lantern, to me standing with blood on my hands and that strange fading light still flickering faintly around my fingers.


    He closed his eyes for a long moment.


    Then opened them again.


    ¡°You killed our god,¡± he said softly.


    A murmur went through the crowd.


    Then a voice¡ªsharp, angry¡ªfrom the side.


    ¡°You brought this!¡±


    ¡°You cursed us!¡±


    ¡°Monsters!¡±


    ¡°Heretics!¡±


    Someone grabbed a pitchfork.


    Another raised a hammer.


    And then the first stone flew.


    It hit my shoulder. I stumbled back, more in shock than pain.


    Another hit my side.


    A third bounced off the side of my head.


    I tasted blood.


    My vision blurred.


    They weren¡¯t just angry.


    They us.


    They hated .


    ¡°You need to leave,¡± the elder said, his voice calm like a judge. ¡°Now. Before we do worse.¡±


    Brynn stepped between me and the crowd, his staff raised¡ªnot to attack, just to shield. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°We¡¯re going,¡± he said.


    Mira grabbed my arm.


    Leif took the rear.


    We backed toward the door, step by step, as the villagers screamed and cursed.


    One woman¡ªmaybe Deren¡¯s aunt¡ªtried to hit me with a shovel. Toma blocked it with his arm, grunting.


    ¡°Move!¡± he barked.


    We broke into a run.


    The last thing I saw before the door slammed behind us¡ª


    Was Elira, rocking her son¡¯s body back and forth, eyes empty, blood soaking into her dress like ink into paper.


    The road out of Grava stretched ahead like a wound through the forest.


    No one spoke.


    No one had the right words.


    The wind picked up as we walked¡ªcold, sharp, biting through our clothes like guilt through skin. Even Leif kept his jokes buried.


    Mira walked ahead, alone.


    Brynn hummed softly, the same three notes, over and over.


    Toma¡¯s sword was still red.


    I didn¡¯t know if it was from the Hollow One or from Deren.


    By nightfall, we found a slope off the path and set up camp beside an old, twisted tree. Its roots rose from the dirt like black fingers.


    We didn¡¯t make a fire.


    No one wanted to see their own faces in the light.


    I lay on my side, trying to ignore the sting in my ribs. The bandage Mira had wrapped around me was already soaked through.


    But I didn¡¯t complain.


    None of us did.


    When the moon rose, we kept moving.


    No one suggested it. We just stood and started walking.


    Like something behind us might catch up if we stayed too long.


    The woods thickened. Shadows twisted around the trees.


    And just when I thought maybe the worst of the night had passed¡ª


    I heard something.


    Ahead of us.


    A crunch.


    Slow. Heavy.


    Mira raised a hand to halt.


    We all stopped.


    Another crunch.


    And then a wet, dragging sound.


    Closer.


    A shape moved between the trees.


    Huge.


    Lumbering.


    Wrong.


    I reached for my dagger.


    The others did the same.


    No words.


    Just breath and heartbeat.


    And then¡ª


    A pair of eyes opened in the dark.


    Not glowing.


    Not red.


    Just .


    Watching.


    Waiting.

 Chapter 35 :Roots and Ashes

    We didn¡¯t talk about Grava.


    Not once.


    The road felt like it stretched forever, winding through silent woods and a sky that never brightened. Even in daylight, the forest here was dense¡ªtwisting trunks covered in dark moss, roots curling like claws across the path. The trees leaned inward, hunched like they were listening. Judging.


    No birds.


    No animals.


    Just us.


    And the weight we carried.


    I walked near the back. Brynn and Mira stayed ahead. Leif moved like a shadow beside them, boots soft on the dirt. Toma hadn¡¯t said a word since we left the village.


    I couldn¡¯t tell if that made me feel better or worse.


    My body still hurt. The cut on my side burned when I breathed too deep, and the bandages Mira had wrapped there were already spotted with blood.


    But I didn¡¯t complain.


    I couldn¡¯t.


    Not after what I¡¯d done.


    Or failed to do.


    We came to a small clearing just before noon.


    And that¡¯s when it started.


    Brynn raised a hand, halting all of us. ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±


    His voice was calm¡ªbut sharp.


    Leif stepped closer. ¡°Is it a¡ª?¡±


    Before he could finish, the ground shook.


    A low rumble. Barely noticeable. Like something massive had just taken a step.


    Then another.


    And another.


    I looked around, heart starting to climb out of my chest.


    The forest had gone dead still.


    Toma cursed. ¡°Shit. No way.¡±


    He reached for his sword and glanced back at me.


    ¡°Aleks. Stay behind someone.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.


    Leif pulled out his blades. ¡°Forest Warden.¡±


    ¡°Forest¡ªwhat?¡±


    No one answered.


    They didn¡¯t need to.


    Because I saw it.


    It stepped between two trees like it didn¡¯t give a damn how thick the trunks were¡ªjust pushed through them like brushing past curtains.


    It was massive.


    At least three meters tall. Its body was built like a knight in armor, but not metal¡ªbark, moss, bone. Vines crawled over its limbs like veins. Antlers curled from its head like twisted branches. Where its face should¡¯ve been was a hollow, gaping hole. Not eyes. Just dark emptiness, as if the forest itself stared through it.


    And growing from its back¡ª


    Trees.


    Small ones. Twisted. Dead.


    The Warden stopped.


    It us.


    Then it roared.


    The sound wasn¡¯t loud. It was . Deep. Like the earth itself was growling.


    Then it charged.


    Toma was the first to move.


    He dashed forward with a yell, Essence bursting around his feet like smoke. His blade gleamed red¡ªno flame, just heat¡ªand slammed against the Warden¡¯s arm.


    A clang like steel hitting stone echoed through the trees.


    Mira shot past him, flipping over a root, knives glinting as she slashed toward its side. She moved like water¡ªgraceful, violent.


    Leif followed, his movements sharp and controlled, using momentum instead of strength.


    I just stood there.


    Frozen.


    Watching.


    Because I didn¡¯t know what the fuck I was looking at.


    ¡°USE YOUR ESSENCE!¡± Mira shouted between swings.


    I didn¡¯t answer.


    I could barely breathe.


    Brynn stood beside me, his staff glowing faintly. ¡°Aleks. Now would be a good time for another miracle.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡ªI can¡¯t. It¡¯s not working.¡±


    ¡°Then ¡±


    But nothing came.


    No light.


    No warmth.


    Nothing.


    I clenched my fists and cursed under my breath.


    Useless.


    The Warden let out a guttural grunt and slammed its arm downward. A root burst from the ground like a whip, crashing into Toma¡¯s chest and flinging him into a tree.


    He grunted but got back up, wiping blood from his lip.


    ¡°Bastard¡¯s tougher than I thought!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s reinforcing with outer Essence,¡± Mira called, dodging another strike. ¡°Aim for the core!¡±


    ¡°What core?! It¡¯s a fucking !¡±


    ¡°Exactly! ¡±


    Leif dashed in low and slashed across the Warden¡¯s leg. The blade cut through bark, exposing a deep pulsing green underneath¡ªthick and wet.


    It howled.


    Its massive arm twisted unnaturally, swinging toward Leif.


    But Brynn moved first.


    His staff slammed into the ground.


    A ring of violet light rippled outward.


    Roots near the Warden cracked and burst into flames¡ª, localized. Magical fire, not wild.


    The Warden shrieked and stumbled back.


    It tried to retreat¡ªtoo late.


    Toma circled behind, raised his sword, and plunged it into the exposed green beneath the armor of moss and bark.


    A tremor went through the creature.


    Then¡ª


    Collapse.


    It fell forward, shaking the ground as it hit.


    Silence.


    Heavy, exhausted silence. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I let out a shaky breath and collapsed to my knees, heart still pounding like I¡¯d just sprinted for miles.


    The others stood around the body, panting, checking wounds.


    Brynn turned toward the corpse and tapped it with his staff. ¡°Still warm. Should be good for extraction.¡±


    Leif sheathed his blades and looked at me. ¡°You alright?¡±


    I nodded.


    Didn¡¯t feel like it.


    But I nodded anyway.


    We dragged the Forest Warden¡¯s corpse off the main path, leaning its massive trunk-like limbs against a fallen log. Up close, the thing looked even more unsettling¡ªlike a broken marionette made of bark, moss, and something wetter underneath. Slivers of green fluid seeped from a dozen wounds, staining the grass with a sour smell. Toma grimaced as he jammed his sword into a gap, trying to pry loose a piece of armor-like bark.


    ¡°We can sell these plates,¡± he said, straining. ¡°Guild pays decent for Warden hide.¡±


    Leif knelt beside him, knifing away a chunk of vine that snaked across the creature¡¯s chest. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, they¡¯ll go for a premium. I heard some blacksmiths use it to craft armor with natural Essence resonance.¡± He paused and glanced at me. ¡°Assuming we ever make it to a proper guild station.¡±


    Mira wiped her daggers on a rag, scowling at the body. ¡°Damn thing nearly took our heads off. I¡¯ve seen Wardens before, but not this fierce.¡±


    Brynn stood to one side, tapping his staff lightly on the ground. He watched them carve up the remains, yet his eyes kept drifting to me as if waiting for something else to happen. Maybe he thought I¡¯d pull another miracle out of my ass. I pretended not to notice.


    I was still reeling from the fight. The way they moved, how they channeled their power¡ªinner, outer, I didn¡¯t know the difference. All I knew was that whatever I did back in Grava wouldn¡¯t come when I called. I was the least useful person here, yet somehow the center of attention. It made my stomach knot.


    When they finished, Toma strapped a bundle of bark plates to his back. He gave me a once-over. ¡°You look like you don¡¯t even know what a Warden is.¡±


    I shrugged, too tired to bluff. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    Leif snorted. ¡°This area¡¯s crawling with them. Thought you folks from the ¡®outside¡¯ would know at least the basics.¡±


    I shook my head, face burning. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ not exactly from around here.¡±


    ¡°No shit,¡± Mira snapped. ¡°You act like you got dropped out of the sky with no clue about anything. Monsters, Essence, the godsdamn layout of the land. You sure you¡¯re not suicidal?¡±


    I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. She wasn¡¯t wrong. I couldn¡¯t explain how everything worked in my head. For me, reality used to be cars and cellphones. Now it was giant tree monsters and Holy Essence. And I had no idea how to reconcile the two.


    Brynn clapped a hand on my shoulder¡ªlightly, but it still made me jump. ¡°Let¡¯s not grill him like a bandit prisoner. We got bigger problems. Here¡ª¡± He motioned at a cluster of mossy stumps. ¡°Sit. It¡¯s time we talk. Properly.¡±


    We settled onto the makeshift seats, forming a rough circle in the shade. The air felt damp and cool. Sunbeams filtered through the canopy, catching drifting motes of dust and making them glow like embers in the gloom. For a moment, it looked almost peaceful.


    Toma set his sword across his lap. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll start. Name¡¯s Toma. Thirty-two. Been hunting monsters since I was a teenager. It pays the bills. That¡¯s all.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say more, and I got the feeling he wouldn¡¯t. Straight to the point, no nonsense. Mira rolled her eyes but followed suit.


    ¡°I¡¯m Mira,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m twenty-four, from a city called Dreadmark¡ªfar south. My mother was a physician. Now I¡¯m a healer who also stabs things, because that¡¯s the world we live in. Next?¡±


    Leif cleared his throat dramatically. ¡°Leif Rook. Twenty-six. Child of a merchant¡ªran away to avoid a boring desk job. I like coin, I like stories, and I¡¯d rather not die, but if I have to go out, at least let me see something amazing first.¡± He shot me a grin, but it faded quickly.


    ¡°Brynn,¡± the older man said, tapping his staff. ¡°Age? Old enough to see a few cycles. Occupation? Wandering meddler, I guess. Magic dabbler. Maybe a little more than that. Depends on the day.¡± His eyes flicked toward me again. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°Aleks. I¡¯m¡­ sixteen.¡± The words tasted strange in my mouth. Had it only been months since I was in a normal school, living a normal life? It felt like years. ¡°I was¡­ living in a small place. By a farm. Nothing special. Then everything changed.¡±


    No one spoke for a moment. Then Leif raised an eyebrow. ¡°You can do Holy Essence. That¡¯s not exactly nothing special.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that is,¡± I mumbled. ¡°I can¡¯t control it. I barely even believe it¡¯s real.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Mira hissed. ¡°It¡¯s real. It¡¯s one of the rarest forms of energy conversion in existence. People train decades and never even scratch that level. And you? You just fling it out like a drunken wizard?¡±


    I shook my head, a dull ache forming behind my eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t choose to. It just¡­ happened.¡±


    Toma eyed me. ¡°Either you¡¯re lying, or you¡¯re clueless. Both are dangerous.¡±


    Brynn exhaled slowly, like he was defusing a bomb. ¡°Look, in this world¡ªeveryone has Essence. It¡¯s like a reservoir of potential inside you. Some people focus it inward: strengthening bodies, sharpening reflexes. Others turn it outward for spells, illusions, enchantments. Holy Essence is¡­ different. Rarer. Harder to harness. Usually associated with ancient rites and massive energy costs.¡±


    ¡°And you,¡± Leif said, pointing at me, ¡°just spat it out like it was nothing. You sure you¡¯re not hiding some royal bloodline or secret monastery training?¡±


    I rubbed my hands together, focusing on the rough calluses. ¡°No. Nothing.¡±


    They didn¡¯t look convinced. I didn¡¯t blame them. Part of me wasn¡¯t convinced either.


    Brynn shifted. ¡°If you really can use that kind of power¡ªespecially at your age¡ªthen the Academy in Reslau¡¯s your best bet. They¡¯re the only ones who can teach you how to handle it. Assuming you can even get in.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t that require him to be either noble or extremely recommended?¡± Toma muttered.


    ¡°Probably,¡± Mira added. ¡°But if he¡¯s that special, maybe they¡¯ll make an exception.¡±


    I let out a shaky laugh. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m going to Reslau anyway.¡±


    They exchanged looks. Leif shrugged. ¡°Well, you¡¯ll have better odds there than out here, playing hero in every cursed village we pass.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of villages,¡± I said carefully, ¡°is that¡­ normal? What happened in Grava?¡±


    They exchanged another round of glances. Brynn¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Rural life¡¯s harsh. No city guard. No royal support. Sometimes they cling to anything that promises safety or meaning. Even if that ¡®god¡¯ is just a monster feeding on them.¡±


    Mira nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not that rare, actually. Just rarely so¡­ horrifying.¡±


    I thought of that mother¡¯s scream, echoing in my ears. My chest tightened. ¡°We¡­ left them behind.¡±


    ¡°We did,¡± Toma said flatly. ¡°And that¡¯s all we can do.¡±


    The silence returned, thick as the moss under our feet.


    Finally, Brynn stood, using his staff for balance. ¡°We should keep moving. Long way to the next town. And I¡¯d prefer not to meet another Warden in the dark.¡±


    Mira hoisted her pack. Leif slung his over his shoulder. Toma adjusted the bark plates.


    I just looked at my own empty hands.


    No words. No illusions.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    The forest swallowed us again as we started down the winding trail. I didn¡¯t know if I felt closer to them or just more exposed, but at least we weren¡¯t silent strangers anymore. And for now, that was enough. The day was still young, and Reslau¡ªfar away though it might be¡ªhad become more than just a spot on a map.


    It was hope.


    And I¡¯d need every bit of it.

 Chapter 36:Crimson Maiden

    There was something wrong about this place.


    It wasn¡¯t just the burned buildings, their blackened husks looming in the fading light, or the ashen sky that seemed to weigh heavily upon us. It was deeper than that¡ªsomething colder, older. It felt as if the air itself was watching, holding its breath, waiting to see what we¡¯d do next.


    I walked slowly, my feet crunching softly on charred earth. Every few steps, the ghostly silhouette of a building emerged from the gloom, skeletal and broken, barely recognizable. Wood crackled faintly as embers still smoldered, sending thin trails of smoke curling upwards, weaving through the sky like whispers.


    "Another village," Toma muttered bitterly, breaking our silence. "Another graveyard."


    Leif, beside him, frowned. "Whatever did this, it wasn¡¯t long ago."


    I swallowed, memories of Grava flooding back in waves. My side ached, though the wound had healed, leaving only a deep scar as a cruel reminder. I touched it lightly, feeling its shape beneath my shirt, a permanent symbol of my failures.


    "Over here!" Mira called, pulling our attention toward what once might have been a barn. "There¡¯s someone alive!"


    Instantly, we moved closer. Mira crouched, carefully pushing aside debris to reveal a small figure curled against a blackened wall, trembling violently.


    "It''s a girl," Brynn murmured, gently kneeling beside Mira. His voice softened, fatherly and calming. "Hey, you''re safe now. We¡¯re here to help."


    Slowly, the girl raised her head. My breath caught. Despite the soot smudging her delicate face, she was strikingly beautiful¡ªhair like flowing fire cascading around her pale skin, lips full and crimson as fresh blood. Her eyes, deep emerald green, locked onto mine. My pulse quickened inexplicably, and a faint flush spread across my cheeks.


    "What... happened here?" I asked softly, unable to tear my gaze from hers.


    She stood slowly, shakily, her eyes never leaving mine. "They came suddenly. I hid and heard everything. The screams¡­" Her voice broke, tears tracing silent lines down her soot-stained cheeks. "I thought I¡¯d die here, alone."


    "Who?" Brynn asked quietly, his eyes serious. "Who attacked your village?"


    "Monsters," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Always monsters."


    I flinched. Her pain mirrored mine so clearly that it hurt. I stepped forward impulsively, reaching out my hand.


    "My name¡¯s Aleks," I said gently. "You¡¯re safe now. We won''t let anything happen to you."


    She looked up at me, her emerald eyes widening slightly before softening. A fragile smile formed on her lips, making my heart leap oddly.


    "My name¡¯s Evelyn," she breathed, her voice warming me in ways I couldn''t understand. "Please¡­ don¡¯t leave me here."


    I nodded immediately, without thought. "Never."


    Toma exchanged a wary glance with Mira, but Brynn simply smiled knowingly and stood. "Let''s find a safe place to rest tonight. This village¡­ isn''t safe."


    I guided Evelyn carefully, keeping my arm close in case she stumbled. Her closeness filled me with warmth, even though guilt gnawed at the edges of my mind, reminding me how I''d failed to protect others before.


    "Thank you, Aleks," Evelyn whispered softly, her hand gently touching my arm. "I don''t think I''d have made it without you."


    I blushed harder, suddenly feeling awkward yet strangely proud. "I¡ªuh¡ªit''s nothing, really," I mumbled, my heart hammering louder than ever.


    Evelyn giggled softly, her laughter melodic and soothing, brushing away some of the darkness that hung over me like a shroud. "You¡¯re a terrible liar," she teased softly. "But that''s okay¡ªI like that about you."


    My face burned hot, and I stared down at the blackened earth beneath my feet, grateful for the fading twilight that hid my embarrassment.


    We camped just beyond the village, beneath towering, ancient trees whose branches intertwined like old fingers clutching at the stars. The group sat around the fire, tired eyes fixed on the flames, exchanging occasional murmurs. Evelyn sat near me, quietly listening, smiling faintly whenever our eyes met.


    I felt oddly calm around her. Despite everything I''d been through, her presence made it seem as though, for a moment, my life had somehow returned to something approaching normality. Perhaps it was the way she listened, really listened, her emerald eyes locked onto mine as though nothing else in the world mattered.


    Eventually, exhaustion overtook the others, and they began drifting off into sleep, their breathing slow and rhythmic.


    "Aleks," Evelyn whispered suddenly, leaning closer. "Can I¡­ ask you something privately?"


    My pulse raced again. I nodded quickly, my throat suddenly dry. "Sure."


    She smiled shyly, standing gracefully, offering me her slender hand. I took it hesitantly, my face growing warm as she pulled me gently toward the shadows beyond the firelight, into the thick embrace of the forest.


    We walked slowly, the sounds of the night whispering around us, her fingers delicately intertwined with mine. My heart pounded louder with each step, confusion and anticipation wrestling within me.


    Finally, she stopped in a small clearing, bathed in silver moonlight filtering through leaves. Evelyn turned to me, her eyes intense, reflecting the pale glow. A teasing smile curved her lips.


    "Close your eyes," she whispered softly, her voice like silk.


    My heart stumbled over itself. "Why?"


    She tilted her head playfully, squeezing my hand softly. "Trust me. Please?"


    I hesitated, but her eyes were impossible to refuse. My pulse thundered in my ears as I obediently closed my eyes, breath held tightly in my chest.


    "Now open them," she murmured, barely audible.


    My eyes flicked open slowly, and my heart froze mid-beat.


    Evelyn stood before me, her clothing pooled at her feet, pale skin glowing gently in the moonlight, hair cascading like liquid fire down her shoulders. My face exploded with heat as my jaw dropped, words completely failing me.


    "W-wait¡ª Evelyn¡­?" My voice cracked awkwardly.


    She giggled softly, stepping closer, gently taking my trembling hands in hers. Her eyes shimmered playfully yet oddly intense.


    "Relax," she whispered. "It''s alright¡­"


    My head spun. This couldn''t be real. I felt a weird combination of panic, excitement, and overwhelming embarrassment.


    "I-I don''t¡­ Evelyn, maybe¡ªmaybe we shouldn''t¡ª" I stammered desperately.


    But then, in an instant, everything changed.


    Evelyn¡¯s smile twisted grotesquely, her emerald eyes suddenly empty and dark. Her mouth stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. Her tongue slithered forward, impossibly long, dripping with venomous saliva.


    A monster stared back at me where Evelyn had just been.


    And then, before I could scream, she lunged at me with blinding speed.


    I barely had time to react.


    She¡ªno, ¡ªlunged toward me, mouth impossibly wide, jaws snapping inches from my throat. I stumbled back, heart hammering so violently it drowned out every other sound.


    "What the fuck¡ª?!" I gasped, my voice trembling.


    She hissed in response, the melody of Evelyn¡¯s laughter twisted into something monstrous, dripping venom. The moonlight caught the slick surface of her too-long tongue as it whipped out toward me like a serpent. I twisted my body desperately, but it grazed my cheek, burning like acid.


    Pain flared, hot and sharp, searing my nerves. I stumbled, clutching my face, trying to put some distance between us. My vision blurred as panic tightened its grip.


    "," the creature whispered mockingly, her voice shifting grotesquely between seductive sweetness and hideous malice. ""


    I turned and ran, branches clawing at my skin as I crashed through the darkened woods. My heartbeat echoed wildly in my ears, each breath a tortured gasp. I didn¡¯t dare look back. Didn¡¯t dare slow down.


    But I didn¡¯t get far.


    A crushing weight slammed into my back, knocking me face-first into the ground. I tasted dirt and blood as claws sank painfully into my shoulder blades.


    "Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing violently. My fingers desperately clawed at the earth, but she held me firmly, strength unnatural.


    She flipped me effortlessly onto my back, pinning me down. Her beautiful face stared down at me again, flickering in and out between human and nightmare, emerald eyes blazing cruelly.


    I stared at her, fear freezing me solid. Her hair swirled around her like crimson flames, yet her mouth, filled with razor teeth, smiled chillingly.


    "Did you like me better like this?" she purred, voice syrupy sweet as Evelyn¡¯s, but with a sinister undercurrent. "Or would you prefer me as your innocent little victim?"


    I struggled uselessly beneath her, breathing ragged, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode. "Why¡­why are you doing this?"


    She leaned in, running a sharp claw gently down my chest, slicing neatly through my shirt and leaving a thin, bloody trail. "Because I enjoy it. Because you¡¯re so trusting, so foolish. And your essence, Aleks¡­" She inhaled deeply, eyes closing in twisted pleasure. "So pure¡­ so " S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Get¡­off me," I choked, desperately twisting beneath her weight.


    She laughed, low and cold. "Make me."


    Anger surged suddenly, hot and violent, flooding my veins like molten iron. I clenched my fist and swung at her face with everything I had. My knuckles connected¡ªbut the impact felt as weak as hitting water. She laughed louder, cruelly amused.


    I punched again, harder, faster, desperate to break free. Each strike felt useless, like punching through shadows. Panic rose, choking me. Until¡ª


    Something snapped inside me. A surge. A flood of energy, raw and unchecked, boiling up from deep within my chest.


    My fist connected again, and this time, light exploded outward. Holy Essence surged forth, bright and blinding, radiating heat and power unlike anything I''d felt before.


    The creature shrieked, thrown backward, crashing violently into a nearby tree. She twisted and spasmed as tendrils of glowing energy consumed her form, dissolving her beauty into a nightmare of screaming agony.


    I scrambled back, stunned, watching as her flesh burned away, leaving nothing but blackened ashes drifting through moonlit air. Silence fell, heavy and deafening.


    My body trembled uncontrollably. I stared at my shaking hands, feeling a nauseating mix of horror and awe.


    "What¡­ what am I¡­?" My voice broke.


    Then darkness rushed in, stealing consciousness before I hit the ground.


    Soft warmth caressed my face. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open to brilliant morning sunlight spilling gently over a clearing of vibrant green grass. For a fleeting moment, I almost believed everything had been a twisted nightmare.


    But the sharp sting of fresh scars across my chest and shoulders told a different story.


    "You''re finally awake," Mira said gently from somewhere beside me. Her usual sharp edge was softened by genuine concern.


    I sat up slowly, groaning as my head spun. Brynn knelt beside me, carefully examining the fresh scars with a thoughtful frown. Toma stood a few feet away, arms crossed grimly, his eyes unreadable, while Leif leaned silently against a tree, tension lining his usually carefree face.


    "What the hell happened back there, Aleks?" Toma asked, his voice low and cautious.


    I hesitated, swallowing dryly. My throat burned as memories flooded back¡ªthe beautiful girl, the twisted smile, the claws. "Evelyn...she... she wasn''t human," I rasped, eyes fixed on the grass as shame burned hotly in my chest. "She turned into something else. Something monstrous."


    Brynn''s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What exactly did she look like? Any details you remember clearly?"


    "Her face¡ªit changed suddenly," I said quietly, still shaken. "Sharp teeth, a long tongue, claws¡­she moved faster than anyone I''ve ever seen. It was like fighting pure shadow."


    Toma exchanged a heavy glance with Mira, who nodded slowly in silent agreement.


    "Sounds like a Crimson Maiden," Leif murmured thoughtfully, pushing himself away from the tree. His usual humor was entirely absent. "I hoped we''d never meet one, honestly."


    "A Crimson Maiden?" I echoed numbly, the words bitter and foreign on my tongue. "What is that?"


    Brynn exhaled deeply, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. "They¡¯re cursed beings, Aleks. Born from the tormented spirits of young women who suffered violence at the hands of men. They feed on the lives of those they lure close, exacting their vengeance. Your ''Evelyn'' was no victim¡ªshe was a predator."


    I clenched my fists tightly, anger and confusion swirling inside me. "So that destroyed village¡­?"


    Toma nodded gravely. "Almost certainly her doing. Not the first, either. I''ve heard tales of Crimson Maidens wiping out entire settlements before vanishing into the night."


    Guilt twisted painfully in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had trusted her, believed her lies. She''d almost killed me¡ªjust like she''d killed countless others before. My stomach churned with self-loathing.


    "How did you manage to kill her, Aleks?" Mira asked carefully, eyeing me closely. "Did you¡­use your Essence again?"


    I hesitated, glancing at my own trembling hands. The memories blurred, flashes of brilliant light exploding from my fingertips. "I¡ªI think so. I just reacted. I didn¡¯t even know what I was doing."


    Brynn¡¯s face darkened with quiet worry. "It''s dangerous, Aleks. You have Holy Essence¡ªbut it isn¡¯t meant for someone like you. It wasn¡¯t made to be wielded by ordinary people."


    I looked at him, my heart thudding anxiously. "What do you mean? Why is it so dangerous?"


    He sighed deeply, his eyes serious. "Holy Essence is incredibly powerful¡ªtoo powerful for a human body. It wasn¡¯t created for mortal use. Each time you release it, you risk your own life. Your body simply can''t handle the strain. Last night, you lost consciousness because your body reached its limit. If you''d gone even slightly further, you might never have woken up."


    A chill ran down my spine, cold fear gripping me tightly. "Then¡­why the hell do I have it?"


    "That''s something none of us know," Leif murmured softly, a rare moment of seriousness darkening his expression. "But you need to learn to control it, or it''ll control you¡ªprobably to death."


    Brynn squeezed my shoulder gently, trying to reassure me despite his grim warning. "We¡¯ll figure it out. But right now, you need rest. We should reach the next town as soon as possible. You need proper care and guidance, Aleks. Before it''s too late."


    I sighed deeply, staring up into the painfully clear blue sky. Bitterness rose sharply in my throat, tinged with dark irony.


    "Why couldn''t I have just woken up in a peaceful fantasy world?" I muttered, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why do I keep waking up nearly dead, every godsdamn day?"


    Leif gave a dry chuckle, a flicker of his usual grin returning briefly. "Peaceful fantasy worlds don¡¯t exist, Aleks. Reality just keeps getting worse. Lucky us."


    "Of course," I muttered bitterly, pushing myself up to my feet with Brynn''s help. "That figures."


    I glanced back once at the clearing, where the charred remains of Evelyn''s monstrous form lay scattered among the grass, my heart heavy with conflicting emotions. Questions hung thickly in the air around me, unanswered and oppressive. Each step forward felt uncertain, yet necessary.


    I had no choice but to keep moving¡ªeven if the road ahead was paved with blood and shadows.

 Chapter 37:Toward the Gray Flame

    The sun hadn¡¯t even cleared the horizon when we started walking again.


    Mist clung to the grass like a sleeping veil, soft and pale, curling around our boots as we followed the trail out of the forest. The birds had just begun to stir, singing broken melodies that echoed through the trees like half-remembered dreams.


    I walked a step behind the others, letting the distance cushion my thoughts. Every breeze that touched my chest stung¡ªmy scars weren¡¯t bleeding, but they still ached like hell. The kind of ache that reminded you you¡¯d survived something you shouldn¡¯t have.


    "You''re quiet today," Brynn said without turning around. He was walking with his hands clasped behind his back, like a professor out for a casual stroll. "Still thinking about last night?"


    I didn''t answer. What was I supposed to say?


    That I¡¯d trusted a monster? That I nearly died again? That something inside me had burned bright enough to erase a demon from existence¡ªbut I had no idea how or why? Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Come here," he said after a moment. He slowed his pace until we were side by side, his voice low enough that the others wouldn¡¯t hear.


    "You¡¯ve got power," he said. "But you¡¯re carrying it like it¡¯s going to explode. That¡¯s not how Essence works."


    I glanced at him. "Then how does it work?"


    "Essence is part of you," Brynn said simply. "Like blood. Or breath. Everyone has it¡ªsome more than others. But what matters is how you shape it."


    He paused to pick up a thin stick from the ground and snapped it clean in two.


    "Imagine this is Essence. You don¡¯t throw it. You don¡¯t force it. You guide it. You shape it into what you need. That¡¯s the first thing every child in Reslau learns."


    "That easy, huh?" I muttered.


    "Of course not," he smiled faintly. "It¡¯s simple. Not easy. But if you don¡¯t learn it, Holy Essence will eat you alive."


    "Great."


    We kept walking.


    The path curved gently upward until, at last, the trees began to thin. And then I saw it.


    A city.


    Far larger than I expected.


    Stone walls ringed the outskirts, maybe fifteen feet high, reinforced with iron bands and smooth golden runes glowing softly near the gates. Beyond them, rooftops stretched into the distance¡ªsharp angled wood and tile, red and slate-colored. Spirals of smoke rose lazily from chimneys, and somewhere a bell rang, distant but clear.


    Brynn tilted his chin forward. "Vallin."


    The name was unfamiliar, but the sight struck me hard. I¡¯d imagined something more primitive¡ªthis world, after all, had elves and monsters and glowing magic rocks. But Vallin looked more like an old European city from back home, just¡­ touched by something stranger. Smoother stone. Lamps without fire. Runes that pulsed faintly on the arches above doors.


    "Looks like a fantasy RPG hub town," I muttered under my breath.


    "Say something?" Leif asked, turning.


    I shook my head. "Just¡­ taking it in."


    As we neared the gates, a group of merchants passed us¡ªone pushing a cart full of shimmering stones, another leading a small beast with six legs and moss growing on its back. People were laughing, bartering, arguing. It was noisy. Crowded. Alive.


    I kept glancing around like an idiot.


    I wasn¡¯t used to this. I wasn¡¯t used to of this.


    And yet¡­ something inside me stirred. A weird flicker. Maybe it was hope. Or maybe it was just the fact I hadn¡¯t almost died today¡ªyet.


    "This way," Brynn said. "Let¡¯s find a place to rest first. We¡¯ll hit the guild after."


    We followed him through the gate, and for the first time in days, I felt something strange in my chest.


    It wasn¡¯t peace.


    But it was close.


    The streets were wider than I expected, paved with smooth gray bricks that clicked under our boots. Houses rose on either side, two or three stories tall, built from polished stone and timber with steep, tiled roofs. Hanging lanterns swung gently above shopfronts, glowing faintly despite the daylight¡ªprobably magic. Ornamental trees lined the edges of the main road, their pale blue leaves rustling in the breeze. And people¡ªso many people¡ªmoved with purpose and noise and life.


    Vallin didn¡¯t feel like a backwater town.


    It felt like a crossroads. A place people passed through on their way to something bigger.


    "Not bad, right?" Brynn said, glancing over at me. "Used to be a merchant city before the Darkzone expanded. Now it thrives on adventurers."


    "And tax," Toma muttered. "Don¡¯t forget tax."


    Leif chuckled. "Toma hates paying for beds."


    "Beds are a luxury," he shot back. "I prefer trees. They don¡¯t charge you five silvers and a shitty breakfast."


    Mira snorted. "You just hate people."


    "Also true."


    I stayed quiet. My eyes were too busy drinking everything in.


    It was strange. The buildings looked like something from the 17th century, but better. Cleaner lines. Subtle magic woven into their structure. There were things that looked like gas lamps but didn¡¯t run on gas, carts without horses¡ªgliding slowly thanks to glowing blue runes under their wheels. No giant airships or skyscrapers, but it wasn¡¯t medieval either.


    Just¡­ different.


    Familiar in shape. Alien in soul.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head to the guild,¡± Brynn said eventually. ¡°Drop off those damn wolf pelts. Then we¡¯ll get rooms.¡±


    ¡°And food,¡± Mira added. ¡°Something that doesn¡¯t scream when you bite it.¡±


    ¡°I liked the last one,¡± Leif said.


    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    We weaved through the crowd and turned down a side street that opened into a large circular plaza. The Guild Hall dominated the far end¡ªan enormous building of dark marble and warm oak beams, with wide steps leading to twin iron doors. Symbols of swords, shields, and scrolls adorned the entrance like medals of honor.


    A group of armored adventurers sat on the steps, laughing and comparing scars. One of them had a wyvern¡¯s skull strapped to his back like a trophy.


    Inside, the hall buzzed with motion¡ªclerks behind long wooden counters, walls covered in mission boards, and a tavern tucked into the right wing, already half full with men and women trading stories over ale and fried bread.


    We offloaded the items, and Brynn handled the talking. He always did. I just stood off to the side, watching. Listening.


    And then I heard it.


    ¡°¡­Reslau¡¯s tournament is next month. Biggest one yet, they say.¡±


    ¡°Course it is. Word is, three royal heirs are entering. Plus some of the Top 4¡¯s bloodline.¡±


    ¡°No shit? You think the Gray-Haired One¡¯ll be there?¡±


    ¡°Has to be. Last time he¡¯ll oversee it himself, if the rumors are true. Academy¡¯s officially transferring to that silver-haired witch of a woman.¡±


    ¡°About time. Guy¡¯s probably older than the mountains.¡±


    I froze.


    Cealith?


    I didn¡¯t know if it was him, not for sure, but my gut twisted like it did when I knew a punch was coming.


    I turned, pretending to look at the quest boards, but I wasn¡¯t reading anything. My thoughts were spinning too fast.


    That tournament¡ªwhatever it was¡ªwas my only shot.


    I had to be there.


    We booked two rooms at an inn down the street. Warm light spilled through glass windows, and the smell of meat and herbs filled the air.


    Even Mira looked satisfied.


    ¡°We¡¯re taking a bath,¡± she announced. ¡°And before you say anything¡ªyes, you too, Aleks. You reek.¡±


    Leif patted me on the back. ¡°Maybe we can wash off that Maiden curse.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off,¡± I muttered, already blushing.


    Brynn grinned. ¡°Let the boy breathe.¡±


    But they were already dragging me toward the bathhouse.


    The water steamed around me, hot and clear, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I relaxed.


    The men¡¯s side was empty, save for me, Leif, Brynn and Toma. Mira was across the stone wall, her laughter faint but constant.


    ¡°So,¡± Leif said, sinking deeper into the water. ¡°Let¡¯s recap. First girl you like turns into a soul-eating demon. Second one turns into a naked corpse monster.¡±


    ¡°Technically,¡± Brynn added, ¡°he didn¡¯t like the second one. She just manipulated his fragile, traumatized heart.¡±


    I groaned and dunked my head under the water.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Aleks,¡± Leif said. ¡°You¡¯ll find a girl who isn¡¯t cursed eventually. Probably.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Respectfully.¡±


    They laughed. I didn¡¯t. But I didn¡¯t stop them either.


    Somehow, it helped.


    Later that night, I sat by the window of our room, watching the streetlights flicker outside.


    The cobbled street below was quiet now. The noise of Vallin had faded into a soft hum¡ªdistant laughter, a rattling cart, the occasional bark of a street dog. The lamps burned with steady, pale-blue fire, glowing through glass shaped like flowers.


    I leaned my head against the wall, my breath fogging the window.


    Cealith.


    If that really was him¡ªif the Gray-Haired One was the same man who once stood beside me¡ªI had to see him.


    No¡­ I to see him.


    He was the only one who could possibly explain what the hell was going on.


    What the world had become during those ten thousand years I apparently slept through like some cursed fairytale prince.


    I rubbed my hand slowly¡ªthe same one that had unleashed that blinding, white energy.


    It didn¡¯t look any different now. Just a hand. Calloused. Tired.


    But I remembered what it felt like. That heat. That force tearing through me like lightning down a copper wire. If I¡¯d held it a second longer, it would¡¯ve torn apart too.


    Brynn was right.


    It was powerful¡ªbut dangerous.


    So I needed control.


    I needed answers.


    And I needed someone to notice me at that tournament.


    If Cealith was really there, the only way he¡¯d even in my direction was if I proved I wasn¡¯t just another idiot waving a sword.


    Which meant entering. Somehow.


    Even if I didn¡¯t know the rules.


    Even if I had no formal training.


    Even if every other participant was some noble-born prodigy who¡¯d spent their life learning how to turn butterflies into bombs.


    I¡¯d figure it out.


    One step at a time.


    The next morning, we met down in the inn¡¯s tavern. Brynn had already paid for breakfast. He always did when things felt heavy.


    I sat quietly, chewing bread that tasted faintly of cinnamon, listening to the others talk.


    Toma leaned over the table, looking between Brynn and Mira. ¡°So, you''re both heading to Reslau too?¡±


    Brynn nodded. ¡°We had business planned there even before the Grava detour. Supply drop, some training contracts. Also¡ªfigured we might stop by the selection rounds.¡±


    Mira smirked, sipping her drink. ¡°He just wants to watch the fancy nobles embarrass themselves.¡±


    Toma snorted. ¡°You¡¯re one to talk. You cried during that duel in Lowton.¡±


    ¡°That was a tactical tear.¡±


    ¡°Sure it was.¡±


    Leif leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. ¡°You coming too, Aleks?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°To¡­ Reslau?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Thought that was the plan.¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ yeah.¡± I scratched the back of my neck. ¡°I overheard something yesterday. About that tournament. The selection thing.¡±


    ¡°The Ritual of Flame,¡± Brynn said, wiping his mouth. ¡°Annual thing. Only a few get accepted each year. Mostly nobles. Some wild talents.¡±


    ¡°Think you¡¯ll try to join?¡± Mira asked, raising an eyebrow.


    I hesitated. ¡°...Maybe. If I want someone powerful to notice me, that¡¯s probably the only chance.¡±


    ¡°Cealith,¡± Brynn guessed, his tone calm. ¡°You think he¡¯ll be there?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I need to find out.¡±


    Toma¡¯s expression shifted. Not mocking. Not pity. Just¡­ thoughtful.


    ¡°Then I guess you better not die on the road,¡± he said.


    We left the inn a few hours later, the sun already high.


    Outside the main gates of Vallin, a crowd had gathered¡ªtravelers, merchants, two small caravans preparing to head northeast toward Reslau. Painted signs nailed to posts listed destinations and fares. A tall woman with a clipboard barked names, taking coin and giving out brass tokens.


    We joined the second group.


    Brynn handled the talk. Mira flirted with a passing knight. Toma leaned against a post, bored. Leif stood near me, arms crossed.


    The caravan began to move.


    Wheels creaked. Hooves clacked. Voices softened to murmurs as the road ahead swallowed us.


    I walked beside Brynn, just behind one of the carts, the morning sun warming my shoulders. He glanced at me, then at the path, then finally spoke.


    ¡°You need to start feeling it,¡± he said.


    ¡°Feeling what?¡±


    ¡°Your Essence. Not forcing it. Not commanding it. Just¡­ noticing. It¡¯s like breath. Or blood. It¡¯s already there.¡±


    I nodded, saying nothing. But I tried. As we walked, I focused on the quiet hum inside my chest. The strange warmth beneath my skin.


    It was faint.


    But it was there.


    Behind us, Vallin shrank into the distance.


    Ahead, the road wound into mist-covered hills, scattered trees rising like jagged spears from the earth.


    And somewhere far beyond that¡ª


    Reslau.


    The tournament.


    Cealith.


    My answers.


    And maybe, if I was lucky¡ª


    A chance to finally understand who the hell I was becoming.

 City of Spires, Heart of Secrets

    The caravan rolled slowly onward beneath skies painted in shades of violet and gold, gently pushing away the last traces of morning fog. Trees thickened around us, casting dancing shadows across the dirt road as the soft rustling of leaves mixed with the creaking wheels of the carts.


    I walked alongside Brynn, keeping pace with him and Leif. For a while, none of us spoke, content with the gentle rhythm of travel. But after several miles, Brynn finally glanced at me, a thoughtful crease forming between his eyebrows.


    ¡°Still thinking about Reslau?¡± he asked.


    I nodded, shifting my gaze ahead. ¡°Yeah. It feels like¡­ everything depends on what I find there.¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± Brynn agreed, his eyes fixed on the winding path. ¡°But, Aleks, before you jump headfirst into a city full of prodigies and nobles, we need to address something important¡ªyour Essence control.¡±


    I sighed, glancing at my hand. The one that nearly burned me alive every time I used Holy Essence. ¡°What exactly Essence, anyway? I mean, besides some magical bullshit energy?¡±


    Brynn chuckled softly. ¡°It''s simple, really. Think of Essence as money. Every person has their own natural supply¡ªsome people are born wealthy, others have to scrape by. Essence works the same way. Your body stores a certain amount, and you use it whenever you cast magic.¡±


    ¡°Okay, that part makes sense,¡± I said. ¡°But why is mine so¡­ chaotic?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re doing things the wrong way,¡± Brynn explained patiently. ¡°You¡¯re throwing around Essence you can¡¯t afford. Essence has ranks, from common elements like fire and water, up to rare ones like darkness or Holy Essence. The higher the rank, the more Essence it consumes.¡±


    He paused for a moment, then continued, ¡°Your Essence capacity, Aleks, from what I¡¯ve seen, probably ranks around D or even E level.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not necessarily bad,¡± Leif cut in. ¡°It just means you should use Essence suited to your capacity. But you¡¯re using Holy Essence, and that¡¯s way beyond your means. It¡¯s like someone with a handful of copper coins trying to buy a fucking castle.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°And here I thought having Holy Essence made me special.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re special, all right,¡± Brynn laughed. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say you¡¯re one of the few people insane enough to survive using Holy Essence with such a small Essence pool. Usually, that sort of stunt kills you instantly.¡±


    Great. Just great.


    ¡°Look,¡± Brynn continued, gently nudging my shoulder. ¡°If you really want to survive in Reslau¡ªhell, if you want to survive at all¡ªyou need to learn how to control it. Ideally, you''d choose a lower-ranked Essence type first or start developing your internal Essence.¡±


    ¡°Internal Essence?¡± I asked, confused.


    ¡°Yeah, internal,¡± Leif answered. ¡°Unlike external Essence, which manifests into elements like fire or ice, internal Essence enhances your physical abilities¡ªspeed, strength, endurance. Most swordsmen or fighters focus on that.¡±


    ¡°Which is why Leif can punch through walls,¡± Brynn smirked.


    Leif shrugged. ¡°It''s a gift.¡±


    ¡°Is Holy Essence considered strong?¡± I asked, hesitating a bit.


    Brynn and Leif exchanged glances. Brynn¡¯s voice lowered, becoming more serious. ¡°Holy Essence isn¡¯t just strong¡ªit¡¯s extremely powerful. It belongs to the S-rank category, along with Dark Essence. They''re both highly rare and dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Then what''s above S rank?¡± I asked, my curiosity piqued.


    ¡°S+ rank,¡± Brynn said solemnly. ¡°Godly Essence. It''s basically a legend. Nobody even thinks about trying to use it. There''s only been one person alive who¡¯s ever managed it successfully.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Arkan, The Shadowborn,¡± Brynn replied, his tone filled with quiet awe. ¡°He¡¯s the one who single-handedly defeated the dark invasion five years ago. Armies of monsters, swarming the continent, wiping out entire cities. Everyone thought it was the end.¡±


    ¡°The end of the world?¡± I muttered, disbelieving.


    ¡°It certainly felt like it,¡± Leif said grimly. ¡°Elves, dwarves, humans, even the holy kingdom of Lydia¡­ Everyone put aside centuries of hatred and fought together. And Arkan was the one who ended it all. Fought the leader of the invasion by himself¡ªand killed it.¡±


    I let out a slow breath, my mind spinning. ¡°Sounds like some hero straight out of a storybook.¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Brynn agreed quietly. ¡°He¡¯s a living legend. Even now, nobody¡¯s surpassed him¡ªnot even the former Rank 1, Lucian Solare, the golden paladin. Leader of the Golden Guild.¡±


    ¡°Golden Guild?¡±


    ¡°The strongest guild in the world,¡± Leif explained simply. ¡°They¡¯re a guild of legends. Anyone who makes it in there instantly becomes a celebrity.¡±


    ¡°So, they¡¯re ranked, too?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Everyone is,¡± Brynn nodded. ¡°Every adventurer registered officially with the guild gets ranked based on strength, accomplishments, Essence level, and tournament victories.¡±


    ¡°And what about the Top 4?¡± I asked, recalling overheard conversations.


    Brynn smiled faintly. ¡°They''re special cases. All four were students of the legendary Cealith at the Academy of Reslau. They revolutionized how we use Essence. Two of them still remain in the top fifteen of the world rankings. And one of them¡ªLady Seraphina¡ªis taking over the Academy officially after this year¡¯s selection tournament.¡±


    My heartbeat quickened. Cealith was close. I was closer than ever before.


    I glanced forward, squinting into the afternoon sunlight, and for the first time, my eyes caught the distant, hazy outlines of spires rising from the horizon.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Leif said softly, noticing my expression. ¡°Reslau. The biggest city in Lydia.¡±


    My breath caught in my chest.


    The city emerged slowly from the haze, its silhouette majestic and surreal. Towers rose from buildings of white and gold, elegant bridges spanned rivers like veins through marble flesh. A vast, imposing hill stood at the city''s heart, crowned by a massive structure of intricate stonework, delicate arches, and spiraling towers¡ªa place of legend and wonder, built like something from the dreams of gods.


    ¡°The Academy of Reslau,¡± Brynn murmured, awe in his voice. ¡°Welcome to your destination, Aleks.¡±


    I swallowed hard, staring at the distant grandeur. My heart pounded.


    As we drew closer, the city¡¯s breathtaking beauty became clearer¡ªspires and towers rose majestically, silhouetted against a sky streaked with deep crimson and gold. The massive hill at its center was crowned by the legendary Academy of Reslau, towering above the city like something straight from a fairy tale. Even from here, I could see delicate bridges suspended gracefully in mid-air, sparkling fountains reflecting the setting sun, and walls carved with intricate runes and spiraling motifs.


    My heart thumped against my chest. Damn, I thought I''d seen impressive places back home¡ªbut this¡­this was on an entirely different level.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I breathed, my steps slowing involuntarily.


    Leif chuckled beside me. ¡°Welcome to Reslau. The jewel of the South.¡±


    Brynn looked at me with a quiet, understanding smile. ¡°It never gets old, does it?¡±


    I shook my head slowly, speechless.


    We weren''t alone. Around us, hundreds¡ªno, thousands¡ªof travelers walked toward the city gates. Caravans stretched endlessly, merchants shouted their wares, adventurers strode confidently forward, armor gleaming under the fading sunlight.


    I¡¯d never seen so many people gathered in one place, not even back on Earth. The entire scene felt unreal, as though I had stumbled into some epic movie or fantasy novel. Yet here I was, part of it all. A nobody, swept along by a current that dwarfed me completely.


    My mind buzzed from the earlier conversation. Essence ranks, internal and external control, legendary heroes¡ªdamn, that was a lot to take in. Just when I thought I''d somehow become special, just when I thought Holy Essence had elevated me into some chosen protagonist, reality hit hard. Instead of wielding it, I''d barely been surviving it¡ªusing it carelessly, like some idiot playing with explosives.


    "Move it, kid!" a gruff voice barked from behind, jolting me out of my thoughts. I hurried forward, sticking closer to Brynn and Leif, letting the river of travelers carry me toward the massive gate ahead.


    ¡°Finally,¡± Brynn sighed, stretching his arms with a groan. ¡°It''s been way too long since I set foot here.¡±


    Leif smirked. ¡°Only thing that¡¯ll make this better is a nice, cold drink and a warm bed.¡±


    Laughter rippled among our companions, relief brightening tired faces.


    As we entered beneath the towering city gates¡ªetched with golden symbols and glowing softly¡ªI overheard snippets of excited conversation.


    ¡°Are you here for the tournament, too?¡±


    ¡°Did you hear? Royalty¡¯s participating this year.¡±


    ¡°And the grandchildren of the Top 4! This is history.¡±


    My heart sped up again. The tournament. The very reason I was here. If I wanted any chance of meeting Cealith, this was my only shot. But looking around, seeing countless confident, armed adventurers, my stomach twisted with anxiety.


    ¡°Hey, Aleks,¡± Brynn said quietly, as if sensing my discomfort. ¡°Relax. You made it here. Trust yourself.¡±


    I exhaled deeply, nodding with a weak smile. "Thanks. Guess I''m just... overwhelmed."


    Brynn patted my shoulder firmly. ¡°One step at a time, remember?¡±


    We moved deeper into the city, walking down cobbled streets bustling with life. Vendors shouted about exotic goods, musicians played lively melodies, and the rich aroma of street food filled the air. Buildings rose around us in graceful designs, each more elaborate than the last, adorned with intricate carvings and glowing magical lanterns.


    Suddenly, a voice rang out from nearby. ¡°Aleks? Aleks, is that you?¡±


    I turned, confused, to see a familiar face pushing through the crowd toward me¡ªa girl with radiant green eyes, pointed ears, and a gentle, unmistakable smile.


    Serenya.


    ¡°Oh my gods,¡± she laughed, genuinely surprised. ¡°It is you!¡±


    I blinked, momentarily speechless. ¡°Serenya¡­?¡±


    She grinned brightly. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you made it all the way here. Wait¡ªwhat are you doing here, so far from Lunia?¡±


    I glanced awkwardly at Brynn and Leif, who both looked intrigued. Serenya wasn¡¯t alone; the rest of her group stood nearby, watching curiously. Embarrassingly enough, I realized I couldn¡¯t recall any of their names¡ªnot a single one besides hers.


    ¡°Uh, long story,¡± I said sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head. ¡°Guess you could say I¡¯m here for the tournament.¡±


    Serenya raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°Really? Didn¡¯t know you were an adventurer now. You learn Essence control that fast?¡±


    Leif coughed loudly. Brynn hid a grin behind his hand.


    I blushed deeply. ¡°Well¡­let¡¯s just say I¡¯m still working on it.¡±


    Serenya laughed warmly. ¡°Fair enough. We¡¯ll have to catch up sometime soon. Good luck in the tournament, Aleks. Maybe we¡¯ll see each other around.¡± S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I nodded awkwardly, smiling back. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    As she walked off with her group, chatting cheerfully, Brynn leaned closer with a teasing smirk. ¡°Making friends already, huh? Didn¡¯t peg you for the social type.¡±


    I groaned softly, shaking my head. ¡°Trust me, it''s not what it looks like.¡±


    Brynn chuckled. ¡°Sure, kid.¡±


    I gazed up once more at the Academy towering high above, its spires piercing the dusk. My chest tightened. Seeing Serenya again made reality even stranger, even more unbelievable.


    Could it be? Could I really have died back then, along with Daisuke, Amina, Carmen¡ªor even back home when the meteors fell? What if none of this was real?


    But then again, I thought, taking in the stunning view of the city bathed in twilight, this feeling¡ªthis was the most real thing I''d ever experienced.


    I clenched my fists tightly, resolve flooding my chest. If this was real¡ªif I¡¯d truly been granted a chance in a fantasy world¡ªthen I wouldn¡¯t waste it. Whatever it took, I had to find Cealith. I had to get his attention, get my answers. Learn what the hell was happening to me.


    One thing was for certain: from here on, there would be no turning back.

 Chapter 39:Reality Hits Hard

    Sunlight trickled through gaps in the stone towers of Reslau, splashing gold across our faces as we stood at the bustling edge of a crowded plaza. The air hummed with chatter, laughter, and the shuffling of countless feet. Merchants called from colorful stalls, while exotic aromas from street vendors filled the air, mixing spices, sweets, and something that might¡¯ve been smoked meat.


    Brynn crossed his arms, giving me one of his serious but reassuring looks. ¡°Well, Aleks, this is where we part. Are you sure you¡¯ll be alright on your own?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, forcing a confident grin. My stomach twisted nervously, but I kept my voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ll manage. It¡¯s not like I''m completely helpless.¡±


    He laughed gently, shaking his head. ¡°You say that, but I''ve seen your luck firsthand. Here, at least take this.¡± He pressed a small leather pouch into my palm. The coins clinked softly as I took it, heavy enough to give a comforting weight.


    Leif stepped forward next, his expression unreadable. Wordlessly, he tossed me two extra silver pieces. I caught them awkwardly. ¡°Consider it a favor, kid. Try not to waste it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I replied, smiling sheepishly. It felt strange¡ªthe idea of saying goodbye to people who¡¯d been at my side through all the insanity.


    Brynn nodded solemnly. ¡°Just... don''t get yourself killed, alright?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    They turned and disappeared into the flow of people, leaving me standing there, alone, in the heart of the biggest fantasy city I¡¯d ever laid eyes on.


    ¡°Shit,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°I¡¯m really alone now.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward into the sprawling streets of Reslau.


    The city was breathtaking. Beautifully chaotic, elegantly intimidating. Streets paved with polished stone wove their way between towering buildings, their intricate facades carved from pale marble and dark stone, interlaced with vibrant banners bearing mysterious symbols. Balconies dripped with flowers, their petals glinting like gemstones beneath the sunlight.


    Everywhere I looked, people moved and hustled¡ªhumans, dwarves, elves, and even reptilian beings with glossy scales chatting animatedly near colorful stalls. Orcs towered above the crowds, casually browsing through crates of ripe fruit, while small children scampered between legs, giggling.


    I blinked, overwhelmed. It felt like standing in the center of Times Square if Times Square had elves selling magical relics and dwarves loudly bartering over enchanted armor. The sensation was dizzying.


    I pushed forward, trying desperately to orient myself. My eyes flicked from building to building, searching for landmarks or street signs I could remember, but every alleyway, every building looked equally impressive¡ªand equally confusing. How the hell did anyone find their way around this place?


    I quickly lost track of how many corners I¡¯d turned. My optimism shrank with every step, replaced by a rising anxiety. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even sure what I was looking for.


    Eventually, after nearly an hour wandering aimlessly, my eyes caught on an ornate, towering structure ahead. A massive sign hung above its grand entrance, letters shimmering with golden light.


    Guild Center


    ¡°That looks promising,¡± I mumbled, hurrying toward it with renewed hope. If I could become an adventurer, even temporarily, I might earn enough coin to get by¡ªand maybe even learn to control my Essence.


    The inside of the Guild Center felt as grand as the outside suggested. Intricately carved pillars reached toward a vaulted ceiling painted to resemble a night sky filled with shimmering stars. Marble counters lined the walls, each manned by attentive clerks in uniform robes, calmly assisting adventurers decked out in impressive armor. A massive mission board occupied an entire wall, filled to the brim with quests, each neatly pinned and categorized.


    This was it¡ªmy chance.


    I approached the nearest clerk confidently, straightening my shoulders and smiling politely. The woman, probably in her mid-forties with sharp eyes behind small glasses, glanced down at me skeptically.


    ¡°Yes? How can I help you, young man?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to register as an adventurer,¡± I said, hoping my voice didn¡¯t betray my nerves.


    She raised an eyebrow, taking a quick assessment of my height and face. ¡°Age?¡± S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I hesitated, then admitted quietly, ¡°Sixteen.¡±


    She sighed heavily, already shaking her head. ¡°You have to be at least eighteen to register as an official adventurer. Guild rules.¡±


    My heart dropped, frustration twisting in my chest. ¡°Isn¡¯t there anything you can do? Just a temporary pass or something?¡±


    ¡°No exceptions,¡± she said sternly, clearly annoyed. ¡°Come back in two years.¡±


    I opened my mouth to argue, saw her expression harden further, and thought better of it. Defeated, I stepped back, heat flooding my face from embarrassment.


    ¡°Fantastic,¡± I muttered, kicking at the marble floor as I exited. ¡°Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.¡±


    Outside, the city''s noise wrapped around me again¡ªbustling streets filled with people laughing, merchants shouting, and wagons rumbling past. But beneath the lively sounds, my frustration bubbled slowly into anger. I''d come here feeling optimistic, only to be kicked down before I''d even gotten started.


    ¡°Adventurer, my ass,¡± I muttered bitterly. The bustling street mocked my misery with its cheerful ignorance. I clenched my fists, shoving them deep into my pockets, trying to steady myself. At least I had a few coins Brynn and Leif gave me. Maybe it wasn''t hopeless¡ª


    Wait.


    My fingers brushed emptiness where the reassuring weight of the pouch should have been. My heart skipped a beat. Cold panic seized my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs.


    ¡°No. No, no, no,¡± I whispered frantically, tearing through every pocket in a desperate, futile search.


    Gone.


    It was gone.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I spun sharply around, eyes scanning the crowd. A flash of movement¡ªa small, ragged figure weaving hurriedly between bodies. In the thief¡¯s hand, I saw the unmistakable glint of my stolen coins.


    Anger surged through me, pushing aside logic. Without thinking, I lunged forward, shouting, ¡°Hey! Stop right there!¡±


    I crashed clumsily into surprised passersby, pushing them aside in my frantic chase. Angry shouts and curses erupted behind me, but I ignored them. Right now, my entire world narrowed down to that little brat sprinting away, my money clutched tight in his dirty fist.


    The kid suddenly darted down a narrow alley between two massive stone buildings. Without hesitation, I dashed after him, shoes pounding against the uneven cobblestones, adrenaline spiking in my veins.


    ¡°A dead-end, kid! Give it back!¡± I yelled, heart hammering in my chest. But as I turned sharply into the narrow street, my blood froze in my veins.


    The kid was nowhere to be seen.


    Instead, three shadows stepped forward from the gloom. Three muscular men with rough faces and sneering expressions, eyes glittering with malice.


    ¡°Aw, look at this one,¡± one chuckled, stepping forward casually. His voice was deep, gravelly, dripping with mockery. ¡°Young and fresh. Could sell for a pretty penny on the black market.¡±


    I staggered back instinctively, breath catching in my throat. ¡°W-wait, hold on, you¡¯ve got this all wrong¡ª¡±


    Another one stepped from behind, blocking my only escape route, flipping a wickedly curved dagger lazily between his fingers. ¡°Poor little runt chose the wrong fucking alley.¡±


    Panic clawed at my throat. I raised my hands defensively, trying to keep my voice calm despite the trembling that shook my limbs. ¡°Listen, guys, I¡¯m not worth your time, okay? I don¡¯t have anything. That kid stole everything I had¡ª¡±


    A fist smashed into my stomach with a terrifying force¡ªcharged unmistakably with Essence. Pain exploded through my body, tearing the breath from my lungs and folding me to the ground like a ragdoll. I gasped for air, agony ripping through me, tears stinging my eyes.


    Through blurry vision, I saw the third man smirk, satisfaction etched into his cruel eyes. He cracked his knuckles slowly, enjoying every second of my helplessness. ¡°Can¡¯t hurt him too badly,¡± he said mockingly. ¡°Slavers don''t pay much for damaged goods.¡±


    Shit, shit, shit!


    Adrenaline surged, fueling a desperate panic. I couldn''t afford to be taken¡ªcouldn''t afford to be their helpless victim. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I lunged forward, swinging my fist blindly at the nearest man.


    My knuckles cracked painfully against his jaw. The thug cursed, momentarily staggering back in surprise, grip loosening for just a second.


    That second was all I had.


    Scrambling to my feet, legs weak and trembling, I sprinted past him, bolting toward the bustling street beyond. Angry shouts erupted behind me, echoing ominously off the walls.


    ¡°Get back here, you little shit!¡±


    Ignoring them, I burst from the alley into the dense, moving throng of the street. My heart raced wildly as I ducked low, weaving frantically between bewildered pedestrians, desperately trying to blend into the crowd and lose my pursuers.


    Minutes passed, maybe more¡ªI couldn''t tell. My pulse roared deafeningly in my ears. Finally, unable to run another step, I stumbled to a halt on the edge of a quieter street, gasping heavily for air, every muscle burning. My stomach churned painfully, dizziness washing over me.


    My knees buckled. I sank onto a worn wooden bench at the riverbank, watching numbly as the evening sun cast golden-red hues across the calm water. The adrenaline faded slowly, replaced by bitter despair and aching exhaustion.


    A sharp sting in my side reminded me of my bruised ribs, where the bastard had punched me. I grimaced, leaning forward, elbows resting heavily on my knees, head bowed in defeat.


    No money. No friends. No direction. And now, I was injured too.


    ¡°Great first fucking day, Aleks,¡± I muttered bitterly, voice shaking. ¡°You¡¯re really acing this whole fantasy hero thing.¡±


    I forced myself to look up, staring at the distant silhouette of the Academy looming gracefully above the city. Its majestic towers and arches shimmered in the fading sunlight, like something from a dream.


    A dream so far out of my reach, it felt like a sick joke.


    ¡°How the hell am I supposed to survive this month?¡± I whispered miserably. Hunger gnawed at my gut, fatigue dragged heavily at my limbs, and my spirit felt utterly crushed.


    Just yesterday, I''d imagined myself strolling into that prestigious Academy, signing up for some grand tournament and meeting Cealith. Now, that vision seemed absurd¡ªnaive, even. I couldn''t even manage a single fucking day in this city without nearly getting kidnapped or robbed blind.


    My eyelids grew heavier with every passing second. Exhaustion seeped into my bones, the bench beneath me uncomfortably hard but offering little alternative. I shifted awkwardly, curling into myself as much as possible, wrapping my arms tightly around my aching stomach.


    ¡°Just one night,¡± I murmured quietly, trying to reassure myself, despite the creeping doubts and fears that whispered cruelly in the back of my mind. ¡°Just tonight. Tomorrow, I''ll figure this out. Somehow.¡±


    I closed my eyes slowly, bitterly aware of how pathetic I must look, curled up miserably on a bench in some strange fantasy world.


    This wasn¡¯t how adventures were supposed to go.


    But it was my reality now.


    The last thought I had, drifting uneasily into a restless sleep, was one of resigned frustration:


    ¡°Tomorrow better be fucking easier.¡±


    But deep down, I knew better.

 Kapitel 40:The Saint of the Slums

    I woke up with a dull ache drilling through my shoulders and a raw taste in my mouth, like I¡¯d been chewing on dust all night. My body felt stiff from sleeping in a half-sitting position on that riverbank bench. The morning light filtered through the rising fog, revealing the same city that had beaten me down yesterday. I glanced at the water¡¯s surface. My reflection looked just as grim as I felt¡ªtired eyes, messy hair, and a bruise darkening on my cheek.


    I needed a plan. Money. Food. A place to rest without fear of getting robbed or dragged off. The obvious choice was to find some simple work, but that hadn¡¯t exactly gone well yesterday. Everyone saw me as a nobody¡ªtoo young, too naive. Even if I tried manual labor, they¡¯d want a city permit or an identification seal, both of which I lacked. My belly growled, urging me forward before I could overthink it.


    After a few fruitless hours of wandering around, I overheard a ragged man cackling to another beggar about a soup kitchen in the lower quarter of Reslau. ¡°They¡¯ll feed any stray dog,¡± he joked, eyeing me as he said it, ¡°and that kid looks like one.¡± Under normal circumstances, I would¡¯ve been offended, but desperation overshadowed my pride. Cheap¡ªor free¡ªfood sounded like salvation, so I asked him for directions. He spat on the ground and scratched his filth-caked chin, then offered a quick laugh. ¡°Just head down that alleyway, then go left at the old arch. Easy enough. Don¡¯t die.¡±


    I could have ignored it, but my stomach churned and my legs started moving on their own. The mention of free food kept poking at me like a stubborn thorn. Anything was better than continuing to starve while I roamed aimlessly. So I stepped off the main roads, deeper into the twisting maze of streets¡ªwhere each turn seemed to lead me into narrower lanes filled with broken cobblestones and cramped, looming buildings. The stench of sewage mingled with rotting vegetables, making me cover my nose more than once. The sunlight felt like it never reached these alleys, as if the city itself had turned its back on this place. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I wasn¡¯t completely naive. The farther I went, the fewer people I saw¡ªmostly shadowy figures lurking at the corners, or stooped silhouettes glancing at me with wary eyes. My instincts screamed that I was heading into trouble, but hunger and exhaustion drowned out the warning. I just wanted something to eat, maybe a bowl of watery stew and a crumb of bread. At least that would keep me on my feet a bit longer.


    When I passed under the ancient arch the beggar had mentioned, I realized how quiet it had become. No more market noise or distant chatter¡ªonly the echo of my own steps. The buildings here were little more than decaying shacks pressed against each other, some with entire walls missing. A few stray cats slunk by, tails darting behind trash bins. My pulse quickened as I noticed how every door and window seemed boarded up or smashed in. Not exactly a place where people generously handed out free meals.


    I stopped at a crossroads, uncertain if I should turn back. That¡¯s when I heard a voice¡ªhoarse, timid, calling for help. ¡°Please...someone...my leg...¡± It came from a side alley that looked even darker than the rest. A jolt of caution shot through me. But still, I hesitated, because ignoring a cry for help felt wrong. It might be dangerous, but I couldn¡¯t just walk away, could I?


    ¡°Hello?¡± I called softly, stepping closer. There was a figure slumped against a crate, half-hidden by shadows. A man, it seemed, wearing tattered clothes. He was clutching his calf, grimacing in pain. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, trying to see if there was blood or an actual wound.


    He lifted his head slightly, and I caught a flicker of something in his eyes that made my skin prickle. A strange, knowing spark¡ªlike he was sizing me up. It happened too fast for me to back away. Shadows shifted around me, and I sensed more than saw a presence closing in. Then I heard a hiss from behind, and before I could react, a hand slammed against my back, forcing me against the brick wall.


    ¡°Found ourselves a lost pup,¡± a cold voice sneered behind me. My heart hammered so hard it nearly drowned out the words. I tried to twist free, but they were too strong. A second voice chimed in, mocking and low. ¡°Young face like that¡¯ll fetch a good price. Let¡¯s not damage him too badly.¡±


    I swallowed hard, cursing my own stupidity. This was exactly the trap I should¡¯ve expected. And now, pinned in this godforsaken alley, I could only wonder if I¡¯d run out of luck for good.


    My back slammed against the cold brick, and the shock rattled every bone in my body. I tasted copper in my mouth¡ªprobably bit my tongue. Five men closed in around me, each wearing ragged cloaks and carrying the kind of expressions that told me they¡¯d done this more times than they could count.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make it too hard on yourself,¡± said the first one, leaning in close. He had a thin scar running from his lip to his jaw, giving him a permanent sneer. ¡°See, we specialize in...providing merchandise. Some folks pay good coin for a young face like yours. Don¡¯t you worry, though¡ªif you behave, you¡¯ll keep all your limbs.¡± He chuckled, and the others grinned along with him.


    I glared, trying not to show how much my heart pounded. ¡°So you¡¯re slavers,¡± I hissed, my breath ragged.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re entrepreneurs,¡± the scarred man corrected, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°The underbelly of this city is always looking for fresh stock.¡±


    I tried to move my arms, but one of them pressed his knee into my thigh, pinning me in place. Another yanked my bag away¡ªwhat little I had left. Two days in Reslau, and it felt like I¡¯d just stepped deeper into the worst kind of hell.


    My mind raced. Holy Essence. I had that, right? But I barely knew how to use it. My last attempt back against the crimson lady was more like a fluke than actual mastery. Even if I tapped into it now, there was no guarantee I wouldn¡¯t fry myself first. That fear tangled with anger until my muscles tensed with helpless frustration.


    ¡°Hands off,¡± I growled, though it came out weaker than I intended. My captor smirked, gripping me tighter. ¡°Cute,¡± he said, his breath rancid. ¡°But this is business, kid. No need for heroics. Scream all you want¡ªnobody here gives a damn.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. The alley around us was deserted, shadowed by towering buildings. I doubted anyone would rush to my rescue, especially in a district like this. The stench of rot and grime thickened the air, an apt backdrop for what was happening. My chest tightened in panic, but I forced myself to keep breathing.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get him sedated,¡± the scarred man said, nodding to one of his cronies. A burly figure with patchy hair rummaged in a pouch, pulling out a vial. The liquid inside glowed a faint pink under the flickering light of a single, half-dead lantern.


    The guy stepped closer, and I jerked my head away. ¡°Don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hold still.¡± He grabbed my jaw in a vice-like grip.


    I bit down on my lip, tasting blood again. My mind screamed that this was the end. Maybe they¡¯d drag me off, chain me up, and ship me to some far corner of the world. An image of Carmen, Nikita, and everyone I¡¯d lost flashed in my head¡ªlike a reminder of how pathetic I was now.


    Suddenly, a humming sound cut through the silence. It was off-key, some drunken tune about ¡°a fish in the sea¡± that made no sense. The men paused, their heads swiveling toward the noise. Someone stood at the alley¡¯s entrance, backlit by the faint glow of streetlamps.


    ¡°Look what we have here,¡± the intruder said in a raspy, sing-song tone. ¡°A bunch of rats messing with the garbage. Careful you don¡¯t choke.¡±


    He took a wobbly step forward, letting the lantern light reveal him¡ªa tall, haggard figure swaddled in filthy rags. A half-empty bottle dangled from his grip, sloshing with something that smelled like cheap liquor. Gray, greasy hair fell around his face, and there was a manic spark in his eyes.


    The slavers glanced at each other. One gave a derisive snort. ¡°Get lost, old man,¡± he barked. ¡°We¡¯re working here.¡±


    The newcomer took another swig, then burped. ¡°Oh, is that what you call it? Working?¡± His voice was lazy, almost bored, but there was a sharpness underneath that pricked my skin. ¡°You see, I¡¯ve got a habit of poking my nose where it doesn¡¯t belong. And you boys look like trouble.¡±


    I felt a wave of relief mixed with dread. Was he really here to help, or was he just another predator? Still pinned, I couldn¡¯t do much but watch. The scarred man who seemed to be in charge glowered. ¡°I said leave.¡±


    The drunkard chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Why would I leave when I finally found tonight¡¯s entertainment?¡±


    ¡°Last warning.¡± Two of the slavers moved toward him, hands on their daggers. One lunged forward, aiming a quick slash to scare the old man off.


    What happened next was almost too fast to process. The ragged figure swayed to one side, as if stumbling in pure drunkenness. But the blade never touched him. Instead, in that lurching motion, he struck out with the bottle¡ªwhacking the attacker upside the head so hard the glass shattered. The slaver collapsed with a groan, out cold.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Another one rushed in. The old man spun on his heel, fluidly hooking the second guy¡¯s leg and toppling him face-first into the mud. It was messy, graceless even, but there was something uncanny about how he moved. Like he was weaving around them, not even fully sober yet still too swift to be normal.


    ¡°Damn you!¡± The leader let go of me and charged at the old man, brandishing his weapon in a full swing. That¡¯s when everything shifted. The tramp¡¯s eyes narrowed, and I caught a glimpse of something¡ªlike a faint glow radiating from his body. Heat pulsed in the alley.


    ¡°Get down!¡± he roared. I instinctively ducked, rolling against the wall. A surge of blinding light flared as the drunkard thrust his palm forward. The next second, a flash of gold illuminated the darkness, followed by a roar of searing flames. Holy Essence. Unmistakable. It crackled through the air with a thunderous intensity that made my teeth clench.


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± The slavers shrieked, staggering back, desperately trying to shield their eyes. The brilliant wave of light licked out, scorching a path across the filthy pavement. A wave of heat slammed into me, warm but strangely comforting. It was as if a god¡¯s fury had materialized in the hands of this rag-wearing man.


    My heart pounded. This was the real deal. True Holy Essence, unleashed without hesitation. I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away. One of the men lunged again, but the old man effortlessly sidestepped, thrust his open palm at the thug¡¯s chest, and a second burst of golden flame knocked him back. The poor bastard slammed into the wall, eyes rolling up as he slid down in a daze.


    The air filled with the smell of scorched leather and a tang of something raw¡ªlike ozone after a storm. The leader cursed under his breath, realized they were outmatched, and whistled. Those still conscious scrambled to pick up their unconscious comrades.


    ¡°Fuck this. We¡¯ll find another mark,¡± he muttered, shooting me a hateful glare. Then he spun and fled, the rest trailing after him. Within moments, they vanished into the labyrinth of alleys, leaving only a few wisps of smoke dancing in the golden haze.


    Silence. My ears rang from the sudden eruption, and I panted against the wall, trying to calm the adrenaline stampeding through my veins. The old man stood there, shoulders rising and falling with each unsteady breath. His gaze finally turned toward me. Now that the light had dimmed, I could see his features more clearly¡ªdeep lines etched around his mouth, exhaustion, and something like a wild spark in those eyes.


    He grunted and let out a belch. ¡°Trouble always finds idiots,¡± he slurred, as though it were obvious. Then he stumbled forward, nearly falling onto me. I caught a whiff of rancid alcohol and smoke. ¡°You...kid. You alright?¡±


    My throat felt dry. The words stuck, but eventually, I managed, ¡°Y-Yeah...I...thank you.¡± I pushed up from the ground, wincing at the pain in my back. Bruises for sure, but still alive.


    He snickered, tipping his bottle up for another drink only to find it shattered at the bottom. He pouted at the broken glass. ¡°Damn shame. Good liquor, that was.¡±


    ¡°You...holy shit,¡± I blurted, still shaken. ¡°You used Holy Essence like it was nothing. Who are you?¡±


    He wiped a trickle of blood from a cut on his cheek, then squinted at me like I was an annoying mosquito. ¡°I¡¯m the bastard who¡¯s stuck pulling sorry fools like you out of the gutter, that¡¯s who. Call me...uh...Varkas.¡± He paused, then gave a low, mocking bow. ¡°Varkas, the Drunk Saint of Reslau¡¯s slums.¡±


    I just stared. My mind whirled with a thousand questions.


    He noticed my expression. ¡°What¡¯s that face, huh? Surprised a beggar can use Holy Essence?¡± He laughed harshly, a humorless sound. ¡°The city don¡¯t give a damn about the likes of me. But that¡¯s fine¡ªI don¡¯t give a damn about it either.¡±


    Somewhere in the background, a cat howled, and an ominous wind swept down the alley, scattering bits of ash across the ground. I took a step closer, my chest still thudding with residual shock. ¡°I...I owe you my life.¡±


    Varkas shrugged. ¡°You owe me more than that, boy. Now get over here. We can talk...assuming you can afford to buy me a drink.¡± He pinned me with a look that held just enough malice to send a chill down my spine. There was something dangerously unhinged about him, but I sensed no ill intent¡ªjust a raw edge. Like a blade that¡¯d been left out to rust yet still cut deeper than any polished sword.


    I hesitated, scanning the scorched streak on the ground. That could¡¯ve been me if he¡¯d decided otherwise. My instincts shouted at me to run, but a part of me also recognized that this was an opportunity. Holy Essence like that...someone who could actually teach me? The entire reason I came to Reslau was to train for the Academy. Maybe this drunk saint held a key I desperately needed.


    My stomach growled, reminding me of my hunger. Varkas turned to leave, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°Suit yourself. If you¡¯d rather starve, that¡¯s your problem.¡± He started humming that off-key tune again as he ambled away.


    I swallowed, adrenaline still high. Then I forced my feet to move, following him despite every alarm bell ringing in my head. Because in that moment, I realized something important: I¡¯d been going nowhere, caught in the city¡¯s vicious cycle with no chance to improve. If I wanted to reach the Academy¡ªif I wanted to stand a chance in this damned world¡ªI needed a miracle or a teacher...or both.


    And this drunken old man, stinking of cheap booze and swirling with Holy Essence, might just be it.


    I followed Varkas through a warren of half-collapsed alleys and uneven, muddy pathways. The man moved with an odd swagger¡ªone moment wobbling like he was on the verge of passing out, the next steady as stone. Despite the filth caked on his threadbare cloak and the reek of stale alcohol clinging to him, there was a prickling sense of raw power about him. I couldn¡¯t tell if that made me feel safer or more at risk.


    Before long, we slipped into a cramped side street, illuminated by the faint glow of a flickering lantern. A makeshift sign reading dangled overhead, one hinge broken so it kept swinging dangerously in the breeze. Varkas shoved the warped door open with a careless kick.


    Inside, the tavern was as grimy as the rest of the slums¡ªsticky tables, chipped mugs, a floor that smelled of sour ale and unwashed bodies. A couple of exhausted faces glanced our way, then went back to their own worries. Seeing Varkas, the barkeep curled a lip and let out a low grunt. Looked like the old drunk had worn out his welcome here before, but no one was about to throw him out¡ªnot after that little Holy Essence display outside.


    Varkas slumped into a battered wooden chair near the counter and waved me over. I hesitated, noticing how most of the tavern¡¯s patrons quickly averted their gazes. Nobody wanted to make trouble with a man who could conjure golden flames. Taking a seat across from him, I found myself wondering if the chair would collapse under my weight. It wobbled dangerously, but held.


    The barkeep, a wiry old woman with a stained apron, approached. She eyed Varkas, then shifted her gaze to me with mild suspicion. ¡°Not you again,¡± she growled at him. ¡°You owe me for the last two visits.¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Varkas drawled, producing a small handful of coins with a flourish. ¡°I came into some funds recently.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hide my surprise. He¡¯d had nothing just moments ago. Then I remembered how he¡¯d knocked those slavers around¡ªmaybe he¡¯d relieved them of their purses while I was still gathering my senses. It shouldn¡¯t have impressed me, but it did. The man might be a drunk, but he was cunning.


    The barkeep stared at the coins, snorted, and grabbed them. ¡°This better cover your tab. And if you two cause trouble, I¡¯m tossing you out on your asses.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Varkas said dismissively, ignoring her glare. Then he flicked his wrist toward me. ¡°Order what you like, kid. Though I doubt they serve anything fancy.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t particularly picky, given how starved I felt. ¡°Just something warm,¡± I said. ¡°Soup, maybe?¡± The barkeep scoffed and disappeared into the back.


    Meanwhile, Varkas ran a grimy hand over the battered surface of the table. ¡°So,¡± he muttered, leaning forward. ¡°You looked ready to fight back earlier. You got some kind of trump card?¡±


    I lowered my voice, not wanting half the tavern to overhear. ¡°I¡ªwell, I can use Holy Essence. Sort of.¡± I recalled that time during the fortress siege, when I¡¯d tapped into something that felt like a blazing light in my veins. It had been sloppy, sure, but it was real enough to keep me alive. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how it works, though. Sometimes it flares up. Sometimes...it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    He arched a brow, an amused grin tugging at his mouth. ¡°Holy Essence, you say? From a scrawny mutt like you?¡± He swigged from a fresh mug of ale that the barkeep slammed in front of him. ¡°Well, color me curious. People with Holy Essence usually have insane potential. But seeing how easily those scum caught you, you¡¯re either lying or you¡¯re hopeless. Which is it?¡±


    A twinge of annoyance flared in my chest. ¡°I¡¯m not lying. It¡¯s real. But I never got proper training, and...¡± I shrugged, feeling the weight of my failures. ¡°Look, I need help. Someone who actually understands how to control it.¡±


    Varkas regarded me for a long moment. His eyes flicked to the small cut on my cheek, the bruises on my arms. Maybe he saw desperation. Maybe he recognized something else¡ªlike that faint trace of Holy Essence I couldn¡¯t quite hide. ¡°Heh. So you¡¯re not completely useless. Question is, why come to me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve met here who can actually wield Holy Essence. Everyone else¡ª¡± I paused, remembering how the guild had turned me away for being underage, how the city guards hardly cared, how the normal folks saw me as just another outsider. ¡°I guess you¡¯re my only shot right now,¡± I admitted, swallowing what remained of my pride.


    He ran a finger around the rim of his mug, then licked the beer foam. ¡°That¡¯s a sad story, friend. But I¡¯m not exactly known for charitable deeds.¡± His voice was steady, but I sensed a hint of amusement laced with caution. ¡°If I were to teach you anything, what do I get out of it?¡±


    I racked my brain. What could I possibly offer? ¡°I...don¡¯t have much. But I¡¯ll do whatever it takes. If you want me to run errands, pay you back once I make some money¡ª¡±


    Varkas snorted. ¡°Money, booze, favors...everyone promises that. Doesn¡¯t mean they deliver.¡± He knocked back a gulp from his mug. ¡°Still, there¡¯s something about you that¡¯s interesting, kid. You¡¯ve got that look in your eye¡ªlike you¡¯ve been through hell already and aren¡¯t afraid of what¡¯s next.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, but he lifted a hand for silence. The barkeep returned with a bowl of watery stew and a hunk of bread for me. She set it down unceremoniously, then stomped off to scold a drunk passed out at another table.


    I let the steaming scent wash over me. It wasn¡¯t fancy, but it was the best smell I¡¯d encountered in days. My stomach growled in anticipation. I dipped the bread, savoring the warm broth, only half-aware of how intently Varkas was watching me.


    He tapped a knuckle on the table. ¡°Tell you what: I¡¯ll give you a chance. But don¡¯t expect a cozy teacher-student relationship. If I say jump, you jump. If I tell you to scrape the shit off the alley floor, you do it. I won¡¯t coddle you. Hell, if you fail, I¡¯ll kick you to the curb. Clear?¡±


    My mouth was full of stew-soaked bread, so I just nodded. Despite the harsh tone, there was a flicker in his eyes¡ªlike he was testing me.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said with a reluctant smirk. ¡°Now eat up. You¡¯ll need your strength.¡± He took another swig of ale, then mumbled under his breath, ¡°Damn city. Always ignoring real talent, letting rat scum roam free. Guess I¡¯ll have to stir things up.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°So...why are you in the slums if you¡¯re that powerful?¡±


    His grin turned sour. ¡°Long story, boy. Let¡¯s just say the Academy and I...didn¡¯t part on good terms. You really want to learn from me, you¡¯ll hear the tale eventually. For now...¡± He shot me a glare that warned me not to pry further. ¡°Keep your mouth shut and focus on getting strong enough not to get kidnapped in an alley.¡±


    I gave a small nod, finishing the last of the bread. My body felt marginally better, yet every muscle remained tense from the earlier ambush. That was the second time since arriving in Reslau that I¡¯d nearly been sold off or killed. If not for Varkas, I wouldn¡¯t be sitting here at all.


    Silence settled between us for a moment, broken only by the distant murmur of other patrons and the barkeep¡¯s clinking dishes. Finally, Varkas stood up, tossing another coin onto the table. ¡°We¡¯re done here.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.


    ¡°Nowhere fancy. Just a place where your whining won¡¯t disturb my drinking,¡± he said flatly. ¡°And if you¡¯re really lucky, I might show you the first step to not dying next time someone tries to grab you.¡±


    Despite the offhand insult, my heart thumped with a cautious sense of hope. This was it¡ªthe beginning of something bigger. I stood and followed him out of the tavern, ignoring the furtive looks from a couple of suspicious patrons. The door creaked shut behind us, and the chilly night air hit me like a reminder that Reslau¡¯s slums were no place to let your guard down.


    In that moment, a realization sank in: If I wanted to get into the Academy, if I wanted to learn how to control Holy Essence, I¡¯d have to rely on this unhinged drunkard who seemed to stand at the crossroads of brilliance and madness. And for some strange reason, I felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought. Because maybe, just maybe, his madness was exactly what I needed to survive in this world.

 Chapter 38:City of Spires, Heart of Secrets

    The caravan rolled slowly onward beneath skies painted in shades of violet and gold, gently pushing away the last traces of morning fog. Trees thickened around us, casting dancing shadows across the dirt road as the soft rustling of leaves mixed with the creaking wheels of the carts.


    I walked alongside Brynn, keeping pace with him and Leif. For a while, none of us spoke, content with the gentle rhythm of travel. But after several miles, Brynn finally glanced at me, a thoughtful crease forming between his eyebrows.


    ¡°Still thinking about Reslau?¡± he asked.


    I nodded, shifting my gaze ahead. ¡°Yeah. It feels like¡­ everything depends on what I find there.¡±


    ¡°More or less,¡± Brynn agreed, his eyes fixed on the winding path. ¡°But, Aleks, before you jump headfirst into a city full of prodigies and nobles, we need to address something important¡ªyour Essence control.¡±


    I sighed, glancing at my hand. The one that nearly burned me alive every time I used Holy Essence. ¡°What exactly Essence, anyway? I mean, besides some magical bullshit energy?¡±


    Brynn chuckled softly. ¡°It''s simple, really. Think of Essence as money. Every person has their own natural supply¡ªsome people are born wealthy, others have to scrape by. Essence works the same way. Your body stores a certain amount, and you use it whenever you cast magic.¡±


    ¡°Okay, that part makes sense,¡± I said. ¡°But why is mine so¡­ chaotic?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re doing things the wrong way,¡± Brynn explained patiently. ¡°You¡¯re throwing around Essence you can¡¯t afford. Essence has ranks, from common elements like fire and water, up to rare ones like darkness or Holy Essence. The higher the rank, the more Essence it consumes.¡±


    He paused for a moment, then continued, ¡°Your Essence capacity, Aleks, from what I¡¯ve seen, probably ranks around D or even E level.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not necessarily bad,¡± Leif cut in. ¡°It just means you should use Essence suited to your capacity. But you¡¯re using Holy Essence, and that¡¯s way beyond your means. It¡¯s like someone with a handful of copper coins trying to buy a fucking castle.¡±


    I grimaced. ¡°And here I thought having Holy Essence made me special.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re special, all right,¡± Brynn laughed. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say you¡¯re one of the few people insane enough to survive using Holy Essence with such a small Essence pool. Usually, that sort of stunt kills you instantly.¡±


    Great. Just great.


    ¡°Look,¡± Brynn continued, gently nudging my shoulder. ¡°If you really want to survive in Reslau¡ªhell, if you want to survive at all¡ªyou need to learn how to control it. Ideally, you''d choose a lower-ranked Essence type first or start developing your internal Essence.¡±


    ¡°Internal Essence?¡± I asked, confused.


    ¡°Yeah, internal,¡± Leif answered. ¡°Unlike external Essence, which manifests into elements like fire or ice, internal Essence enhances your physical abilities¡ªspeed, strength, endurance. Most swordsmen or fighters focus on that.¡±


    ¡°Which is why Leif can punch through walls,¡± Brynn smirked.


    Leif shrugged. ¡°It''s a gift.¡±


    ¡°Is Holy Essence considered strong?¡± I asked, hesitating a bit.


    Brynn and Leif exchanged glances. Brynn¡¯s voice lowered, becoming more serious. ¡°Holy Essence isn¡¯t just strong¡ªit¡¯s extremely powerful. It belongs to the S-rank category, along with Dark Essence. They''re both highly rare and dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Then what''s above S rank?¡± I asked, my curiosity piqued.


    ¡°S+ rank,¡± Brynn said solemnly. ¡°Godly Essence. It''s basically a legend. Nobody even thinks about trying to use it. There''s only been one person alive who¡¯s ever managed it successfully.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Arkan, The Shadowborn,¡± Brynn replied, his tone filled with quiet awe. ¡°He¡¯s the one who single-handedly defeated the dark invasion five years ago. Armies of monsters, swarming the continent, wiping out entire cities. Everyone thought it was the end.¡±


    ¡°The end of the world?¡± I muttered, disbelieving.


    ¡°It certainly felt like it,¡± Leif said grimly. ¡°Elves, dwarves, humans, even the holy kingdom of Lydia¡­ Everyone put aside centuries of hatred and fought together. And Arkan was the one who ended it all. Fought the leader of the invasion by himself¡ªand killed it.¡±


    I let out a slow breath, my mind spinning. ¡°Sounds like some hero straight out of a storybook.¡±


    ¡°He is,¡± Brynn agreed quietly. ¡°He¡¯s a living legend. Even now, nobody¡¯s surpassed him¡ªnot even the former Rank 1, Lucian Solare, the golden paladin. Leader of the Golden Guild.¡±


    ¡°Golden Guild?¡±


    ¡°The strongest guild in the world,¡± Leif explained simply. ¡°They¡¯re a guild of legends. Anyone who makes it in there instantly becomes a celebrity.¡±


    ¡°So, they¡¯re ranked, too?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Everyone is,¡± Brynn nodded. ¡°Every adventurer registered officially with the guild gets ranked based on strength, accomplishments, Essence level, and tournament victories.¡±


    ¡°And what about the Top 4?¡± I asked, recalling overheard conversations.


    Brynn smiled faintly. ¡°They''re special cases. All four were students of the legendary Cealith at the Academy of Reslau. They revolutionized how we use Essence. Two of them still remain in the top fifteen of the world rankings. And one of them¡ªLady Seraphina¡ªis taking over the Academy officially after this year¡¯s selection tournament.¡±


    My heartbeat quickened. Cealith was close. I was closer than ever before.


    I glanced forward, squinting into the afternoon sunlight, and for the first time, my eyes caught the distant, hazy outlines of spires rising from the horizon.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Leif said softly, noticing my expression. ¡°Reslau. The biggest city in Lydia.¡±


    My breath caught in my chest.


    The city emerged slowly from the haze, its silhouette majestic and surreal. Towers rose from buildings of white and gold, elegant bridges spanned rivers like veins through marble flesh. A vast, imposing hill stood at the city''s heart, crowned by a massive structure of intricate stonework, delicate arches, and spiraling towers¡ªa place of legend and wonder, built like something from the dreams of gods.


    ¡°The Academy of Reslau,¡± Brynn murmured, awe in his voice. ¡°Welcome to your destination, Aleks.¡±


    I swallowed hard, staring at the distant grandeur. My heart pounded.


    As we drew closer, the city¡¯s breathtaking beauty became clearer¡ªspires and towers rose majestically, silhouetted against a sky streaked with deep crimson and gold. The massive hill at its center was crowned by the legendary Academy of Reslau, towering above the city like something straight from a fairy tale. Even from here, I could see delicate bridges suspended gracefully in mid-air, sparkling fountains reflecting the setting sun, and walls carved with intricate runes and spiraling motifs.


    My heart thumped against my chest. Damn, I thought I''d seen impressive places back home¡ªbut this¡­this was on an entirely different level.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I breathed, my steps slowing involuntarily.


    Leif chuckled beside me. ¡°Welcome to Reslau. The jewel of the South.¡±


    Brynn looked at me with a quiet, understanding smile. ¡°It never gets old, does it?¡±


    I shook my head slowly, speechless.


    We weren''t alone. Around us, hundreds¡ªno, thousands¡ªof travelers walked toward the city gates. Caravans stretched endlessly, merchants shouted their wares, adventurers strode confidently forward, armor gleaming under the fading sunlight.


    I¡¯d never seen so many people gathered in one place, not even back on Earth. The entire scene felt unreal, as though I had stumbled into some epic movie or fantasy novel. Yet here I was, part of it all. A nobody, swept along by a current that dwarfed me completely.


    My mind buzzed from the earlier conversation. Essence ranks, internal and external control, legendary heroes¡ªdamn, that was a lot to take in. Just when I thought I''d somehow become special, just when I thought Holy Essence had elevated me into some chosen protagonist, reality hit hard. Instead of wielding it, I''d barely been surviving it¡ªusing it carelessly, like some idiot playing with explosives.


    "Move it, kid!" a gruff voice barked from behind, jolting me out of my thoughts. I hurried forward, sticking closer to Brynn and Leif, letting the river of travelers carry me toward the massive gate ahead.


    ¡°Finally,¡± Brynn sighed, stretching his arms with a groan. ¡°It''s been way too long since I set foot here.¡±


    Leif smirked. ¡°Only thing that¡¯ll make this better is a nice, cold drink and a warm bed.¡±


    Laughter rippled among our companions, relief brightening tired faces.


    As we entered beneath the towering city gates¡ªetched with golden symbols and glowing softly¡ªI overheard snippets of excited conversation.


    ¡°Are you here for the tournament, too?¡±


    ¡°Did you hear? Royalty¡¯s participating this year.¡±


    ¡°And the grandchildren of the Top 4! This is history.¡±


    My heart sped up again. The tournament. The very reason I was here. If I wanted any chance of meeting Cealith, this was my only shot. But looking around, seeing countless confident, armed adventurers, my stomach twisted with anxiety.


    ¡°Hey, Aleks,¡± Brynn said quietly, as if sensing my discomfort. ¡°Relax. You made it here. Trust yourself.¡±


    I exhaled deeply, nodding with a weak smile. "Thanks. Guess I''m just... overwhelmed."


    Brynn patted my shoulder firmly. ¡°One step at a time, remember?¡±


    We moved deeper into the city, walking down cobbled streets bustling with life. Vendors shouted about exotic goods, musicians played lively melodies, and the rich aroma of street food filled the air. Buildings rose around us in graceful designs, each more elaborate than the last, adorned with intricate carvings and glowing magical lanterns.


    Suddenly, a voice rang out from nearby. ¡°Aleks? Aleks, is that you?¡±


    I turned, confused, to see a familiar face pushing through the crowd toward me¡ªa girl with radiant green eyes, pointed ears, and a gentle, unmistakable smile.


    Serenya.


    ¡°Oh my gods,¡± she laughed, genuinely surprised. ¡°It is you!¡±


    I blinked, momentarily speechless. ¡°Serenya¡­?¡±


    She grinned brightly. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you made it all the way here. Wait¡ªwhat are you doing here, so far from Lunia?¡±


    I glanced awkwardly at Brynn and Leif, who both looked intrigued. Serenya wasn¡¯t alone; the rest of her group stood nearby, watching curiously. Embarrassingly enough, I realized I couldn¡¯t recall any of their names¡ªnot a single one besides hers.


    ¡°Uh, long story,¡± I said sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head. ¡°Guess you could say I¡¯m here for the tournament.¡±


    Serenya raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°Really? Didn¡¯t know you were an adventurer now. You learn Essence control that fast?¡± S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Leif coughed loudly. Brynn hid a grin behind his hand.


    I blushed deeply. ¡°Well¡­let¡¯s just say I¡¯m still working on it.¡±


    Serenya laughed warmly. ¡°Fair enough. We¡¯ll have to catch up sometime soon. Good luck in the tournament, Aleks. Maybe we¡¯ll see each other around.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I nodded awkwardly, smiling back. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    As she walked off with her group, chatting cheerfully, Brynn leaned closer with a teasing smirk. ¡°Making friends already, huh? Didn¡¯t peg you for the social type.¡±


    I groaned softly, shaking my head. ¡°Trust me, it''s not what it looks like.¡±


    Brynn chuckled. ¡°Sure, kid.¡±


    I gazed up once more at the Academy towering high above, its spires piercing the dusk. My chest tightened. Seeing Serenya again made reality even stranger, even more unbelievable.


    Could it be? Could I really have died back then, along with Daisuke, Amina, Carmen¡ªor even back home when the meteors fell? What if none of this was real?


    But then again, I thought, taking in the stunning view of the city bathed in twilight, this feeling¡ªthis was the most real thing I''d ever experienced.


    I clenched my fists tightly, resolve flooding my chest. If this was real¡ªif I¡¯d truly been granted a chance in a fantasy world¡ªthen I wouldn¡¯t waste it. Whatever it took, I had to find Cealith. I had to get his attention, get my answers. Learn what the hell was happening to me.


    One thing was for certain: from here on, there would be no turning back.

 Chapter 40:The Saint of the Slums

    I woke up with a dull ache drilling through my shoulders and a raw taste in my mouth, like I¡¯d been chewing on dust all night. My body felt stiff from sleeping in a half-sitting position on that riverbank bench. The morning light filtered through the rising fog, revealing the same city that had beaten me down yesterday. I glanced at the water¡¯s surface. My reflection looked just as grim as I felt¡ªtired eyes, messy hair, and a bruise darkening on my cheek.


    I needed a plan. Money. Food. A place to rest without fear of getting robbed or dragged off. The obvious choice was to find some simple work, but that hadn¡¯t exactly gone well yesterday. Everyone saw me as a nobody¡ªtoo young, too naive. Even if I tried manual labor, they¡¯d want a city permit or an identification seal, both of which I lacked. My belly growled, urging me forward before I could overthink it.


    After a few fruitless hours of wandering around, I overheard a ragged man cackling to another beggar about a soup kitchen in the lower quarter of Reslau. ¡°They¡¯ll feed any stray dog,¡± he joked, eyeing me as he said it, ¡°and that kid looks like one.¡± Under normal circumstances, I would¡¯ve been offended, but desperation overshadowed my pride. Cheap¡ªor free¡ªfood sounded like salvation, so I asked him for directions. He spat on the ground and scratched his filth-caked chin, then offered a quick laugh. ¡°Just head down that alleyway, then go left at the old arch. Easy enough. Don¡¯t die.¡±


    I could have ignored it, but my stomach churned and my legs started moving on their own. The mention of free food kept poking at me like a stubborn thorn. Anything was better than continuing to starve while I roamed aimlessly. So I stepped off the main roads, deeper into the twisting maze of streets¡ªwhere each turn seemed to lead me into narrower lanes filled with broken cobblestones and cramped, looming buildings. The stench of sewage mingled with rotting vegetables, making me cover my nose more than once. The sunlight felt like it never reached these alleys, as if the city itself had turned its back on this place.


    I wasn¡¯t completely naive. The farther I went, the fewer people I saw¡ªmostly shadowy figures lurking at the corners, or stooped silhouettes glancing at me with wary eyes. My instincts screamed that I was heading into trouble, but hunger and exhaustion drowned out the warning. I just wanted something to eat, maybe a bowl of watery stew and a crumb of bread. At least that would keep me on my feet a bit longer.


    When I passed under the ancient arch the beggar had mentioned, I realized how quiet it had become. No more market noise or distant chatter¡ªonly the echo of my own steps. The buildings here were little more than decaying shacks pressed against each other, some with entire walls missing. A few stray cats slunk by, tails darting behind trash bins. My pulse quickened as I noticed how every door and window seemed boarded up or smashed in. Not exactly a place where people generously handed out free meals.


    I stopped at a crossroads, uncertain if I should turn back. That¡¯s when I heard a voice¡ªhoarse, timid, calling for help. ¡°Please...someone...my leg...¡± It came from a side alley that looked even darker than the rest. A jolt of caution shot through me. But still, I hesitated, because ignoring a cry for help felt wrong. It might be dangerous, but I couldn¡¯t just walk away, could I?


    ¡°Hello?¡± I called softly, stepping closer. There was a figure slumped against a crate, half-hidden by shadows. A man, it seemed, wearing tattered clothes. He was clutching his calf, grimacing in pain. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked, trying to see if there was blood or an actual wound.


    He lifted his head slightly, and I caught a flicker of something in his eyes that made my skin prickle. A strange, knowing spark¡ªlike he was sizing me up. It happened too fast for me to back away. Shadows shifted around me, and I sensed more than saw a presence closing in. Then I heard a hiss from behind, and before I could react, a hand slammed against my back, forcing me against the brick wall.


    ¡°Found ourselves a lost pup,¡± a cold voice sneered behind me. My heart hammered so hard it nearly drowned out the words. I tried to twist free, but they were too strong. A second voice chimed in, mocking and low. ¡°Young face like that¡¯ll fetch a good price. Let¡¯s not damage him too badly.¡±


    I swallowed hard, cursing my own stupidity. This was exactly the trap I should¡¯ve expected. And now, pinned in this godforsaken alley, I could only wonder if I¡¯d run out of luck for good.


    My back slammed against the cold brick, and the shock rattled every bone in my body. I tasted copper in my mouth¡ªprobably bit my tongue. Five men closed in around me, each wearing ragged cloaks and carrying the kind of expressions that told me they¡¯d done this more times than they could count.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make it too hard on yourself,¡± said the first one, leaning in close. He had a thin scar running from his lip to his jaw, giving him a permanent sneer. ¡°See, we specialize in...providing merchandise. Some folks pay good coin for a young face like yours. Don¡¯t you worry, though¡ªif you behave, you¡¯ll keep all your limbs.¡± He chuckled, and the others grinned along with him.


    I glared, trying not to show how much my heart pounded. ¡°So you¡¯re slavers,¡± I hissed, my breath ragged.


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re entrepreneurs,¡± the scarred man corrected, voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°The underbelly of this city is always looking for fresh stock.¡±


    I tried to move my arms, but one of them pressed his knee into my thigh, pinning me in place. Another yanked my bag away¡ªwhat little I had left. Two days in Reslau, and it felt like I¡¯d just stepped deeper into the worst kind of hell.


    My mind raced. Holy Essence. I had that, right? But I barely knew how to use it. My last attempt back against the crimson lady was more like a fluke than actual mastery. Even if I tapped into it now, there was no guarantee I wouldn¡¯t fry myself first. That fear tangled with anger until my muscles tensed with helpless frustration.


    ¡°Hands off,¡± I growled, though it came out weaker than I intended. My captor smirked, gripping me tighter. ¡°Cute,¡± he said, his breath rancid. ¡°But this is business, kid. No need for heroics. Scream all you want¡ªnobody here gives a damn.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. The alley around us was deserted, shadowed by towering buildings. I doubted anyone would rush to my rescue, especially in a district like this. The stench of rot and grime thickened the air, an apt backdrop for what was happening. My chest tightened in panic, but I forced myself to keep breathing.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get him sedated,¡± the scarred man said, nodding to one of his cronies. A burly figure with patchy hair rummaged in a pouch, pulling out a vial. The liquid inside glowed a faint pink under the flickering light of a single, half-dead lantern.


    The guy stepped closer, and I jerked my head away. ¡°Don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hold still.¡± He grabbed my jaw in a vice-like grip.


    I bit down on my lip, tasting blood again. My mind screamed that this was the end. Maybe they¡¯d drag me off, chain me up, and ship me to some far corner of the world. An image of Carmen, Nikita, and everyone I¡¯d lost flashed in my head¡ªlike a reminder of how pathetic I was now.


    Suddenly, a humming sound cut through the silence. It was off-key, some drunken tune about ¡°a fish in the sea¡± that made no sense. The men paused, their heads swiveling toward the noise. Someone stood at the alley¡¯s entrance, backlit by the faint glow of streetlamps.


    ¡°Look what we have here,¡± the intruder said in a raspy, sing-song tone. ¡°A bunch of rats messing with the garbage. Careful you don¡¯t choke.¡±


    He took a wobbly step forward, letting the lantern light reveal him¡ªa tall, haggard figure swaddled in filthy rags. A half-empty bottle dangled from his grip, sloshing with something that smelled like cheap liquor. Gray, greasy hair fell around his face, and there was a manic spark in his eyes.


    The slavers glanced at each other. One gave a derisive snort. ¡°Get lost, old man,¡± he barked. ¡°We¡¯re working here.¡±


    The newcomer took another swig, then burped. ¡°Oh, is that what you call it? Working?¡± His voice was lazy, almost bored, but there was a sharpness underneath that pricked my skin. ¡°You see, I¡¯ve got a habit of poking my nose where it doesn¡¯t belong. And you boys look like trouble.¡±


    I felt a wave of relief mixed with dread. Was he really here to help, or was he just another predator? Still pinned, I couldn¡¯t do much but watch. The scarred man who seemed to be in charge glowered. ¡°I said leave.¡±


    The drunkard chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. ¡°Why would I leave when I finally found tonight¡¯s entertainment?¡±


    ¡°Last warning.¡± Two of the slavers moved toward him, hands on their daggers. One lunged forward, aiming a quick slash to scare the old man off.


    What happened next was almost too fast to process. The ragged figure swayed to one side, as if stumbling in pure drunkenness. But the blade never touched him. Instead, in that lurching motion, he struck out with the bottle¡ªwhacking the attacker upside the head so hard the glass shattered. The slaver collapsed with a groan, out cold.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Another one rushed in. The old man spun on his heel, fluidly hooking the second guy¡¯s leg and toppling him face-first into the mud. It was messy, graceless even, but there was something uncanny about how he moved. Like he was weaving around them, not even fully sober yet still too swift to be normal.


    ¡°Damn you!¡± The leader let go of me and charged at the old man, brandishing his weapon in a full swing. That¡¯s when everything shifted. The tramp¡¯s eyes narrowed, and I caught a glimpse of something¡ªlike a faint glow radiating from his body. Heat pulsed in the alley.


    ¡°Get down!¡± he roared. I instinctively ducked, rolling against the wall. A surge of blinding light flared as the drunkard thrust his palm forward. The next second, a flash of gold illuminated the darkness, followed by a roar of searing flames. Holy Essence. Unmistakable. It crackled through the air with a thunderous intensity that made my teeth clench.


    ¡°What the¡ª¡± The slavers shrieked, staggering back, desperately trying to shield their eyes. The brilliant wave of light licked out, scorching a path across the filthy pavement. A wave of heat slammed into me, warm but strangely comforting. It was as if a god¡¯s fury had materialized in the hands of this rag-wearing man.


    My heart pounded. This was the real deal. True Holy Essence, unleashed without hesitation. I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away. One of the men lunged again, but the old man effortlessly sidestepped, thrust his open palm at the thug¡¯s chest, and a second burst of golden flame knocked him back. The poor bastard slammed into the wall, eyes rolling up as he slid down in a daze.


    The air filled with the smell of scorched leather and a tang of something raw¡ªlike ozone after a storm. The leader cursed under his breath, realized they were outmatched, and whistled. Those still conscious scrambled to pick up their unconscious comrades.


    ¡°Fuck this. We¡¯ll find another mark,¡± he muttered, shooting me a hateful glare. Then he spun and fled, the rest trailing after him. Within moments, they vanished into the labyrinth of alleys, leaving only a few wisps of smoke dancing in the golden haze.


    Silence. My ears rang from the sudden eruption, and I panted against the wall, trying to calm the adrenaline stampeding through my veins. The old man stood there, shoulders rising and falling with each unsteady breath. His gaze finally turned toward me. Now that the light had dimmed, I could see his features more clearly¡ªdeep lines etched around his mouth, exhaustion, and something like a wild spark in those eyes.


    He grunted and let out a belch. ¡°Trouble always finds idiots,¡± he slurred, as though it were obvious. Then he stumbled forward, nearly falling onto me. I caught a whiff of rancid alcohol and smoke. ¡°You...kid. You alright?¡±


    My throat felt dry. The words stuck, but eventually, I managed, ¡°Y-Yeah...I...thank you.¡± I pushed up from the ground, wincing at the pain in my back. Bruises for sure, but still alive.


    He snickered, tipping his bottle up for another drink only to find it shattered at the bottom. He pouted at the broken glass. ¡°Damn shame. Good liquor, that was.¡±


    ¡°You...holy shit,¡± I blurted, still shaken. ¡°You used Holy Essence like it was nothing. Who are you?¡±


    He wiped a trickle of blood from a cut on his cheek, then squinted at me like I was an annoying mosquito. ¡°I¡¯m the bastard who¡¯s stuck pulling sorry fools like you out of the gutter, that¡¯s who. Call me...uh...Varkas.¡± He paused, then gave a low, mocking bow. ¡°Varkas, the Drunk Saint of Reslau¡¯s slums.¡±


    I just stared. My mind whirled with a thousand questions.


    He noticed my expression. ¡°What¡¯s that face, huh? Surprised a beggar can use Holy Essence?¡± He laughed harshly, a humorless sound. ¡°The city don¡¯t give a damn about the likes of me. But that¡¯s fine¡ªI don¡¯t give a damn about it either.¡±


    Somewhere in the background, a cat howled, and an ominous wind swept down the alley, scattering bits of ash across the ground. I took a step closer, my chest still thudding with residual shock. ¡°I...I owe you my life.¡±


    Varkas shrugged. ¡°You owe me more than that, boy. Now get over here. We can talk...assuming you can afford to buy me a drink.¡± He pinned me with a look that held just enough malice to send a chill down my spine. There was something dangerously unhinged about him, but I sensed no ill intent¡ªjust a raw edge. Like a blade that¡¯d been left out to rust yet still cut deeper than any polished sword.


    I hesitated, scanning the scorched streak on the ground. That could¡¯ve been me if he¡¯d decided otherwise. My instincts shouted at me to run, but a part of me also recognized that this was an opportunity. Holy Essence like that...someone who could actually teach me? The entire reason I came to Reslau was to train for the Academy. Maybe this drunk saint held a key I desperately needed.


    My stomach growled, reminding me of my hunger. Varkas turned to leave, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°Suit yourself. If you¡¯d rather starve, that¡¯s your problem.¡± He started humming that off-key tune again as he ambled away.


    I swallowed, adrenaline still high. Then I forced my feet to move, following him despite every alarm bell ringing in my head. Because in that moment, I realized something important: I¡¯d been going nowhere, caught in the city¡¯s vicious cycle with no chance to improve. If I wanted to reach the Academy¡ªif I wanted to stand a chance in this damned world¡ªI needed a miracle or a teacher...or both.


    And this drunken old man, stinking of cheap booze and swirling with Holy Essence, might just be it.


    I followed Varkas through a warren of half-collapsed alleys and uneven, muddy pathways. The man moved with an odd swagger¡ªone moment wobbling like he was on the verge of passing out, the next steady as stone. Despite the filth caked on his threadbare cloak and the reek of stale alcohol clinging to him, there was a prickling sense of raw power about him. I couldn¡¯t tell if that made me feel safer or more at risk.


    Before long, we slipped into a cramped side street, illuminated by the faint glow of a flickering lantern. A makeshift sign reading dangled overhead, one hinge broken so it kept swinging dangerously in the breeze. Varkas shoved the warped door open with a careless kick.


    Inside, the tavern was as grimy as the rest of the slums¡ªsticky tables, chipped mugs, a floor that smelled of sour ale and unwashed bodies. A couple of exhausted faces glanced our way, then went back to their own worries. Seeing Varkas, the barkeep curled a lip and let out a low grunt. Looked like the old drunk had worn out his welcome here before, but no one was about to throw him out¡ªnot after that little Holy Essence display outside.


    Varkas slumped into a battered wooden chair near the counter and waved me over. I hesitated, noticing how most of the tavern¡¯s patrons quickly averted their gazes. Nobody wanted to make trouble with a man who could conjure golden flames. Taking a seat across from him, I found myself wondering if the chair would collapse under my weight. It wobbled dangerously, but held.


    The barkeep, a wiry old woman with a stained apron, approached. She eyed Varkas, then shifted her gaze to me with mild suspicion. ¡°Not you again,¡± she growled at him. ¡°You owe me for the last two visits.¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Varkas drawled, producing a small handful of coins with a flourish. ¡°I came into some funds recently.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hide my surprise. He¡¯d had nothing just moments ago. Then I remembered how he¡¯d knocked those slavers around¡ªmaybe he¡¯d relieved them of their purses while I was still gathering my senses. It shouldn¡¯t have impressed me, but it did. The man might be a drunk, but he was cunning.


    The barkeep stared at the coins, snorted, and grabbed them. ¡°This better cover your tab. And if you two cause trouble, I¡¯m tossing you out on your asses.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Varkas said dismissively, ignoring her glare. Then he flicked his wrist toward me. ¡°Order what you like, kid. Though I doubt they serve anything fancy.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t particularly picky, given how starved I felt. ¡°Just something warm,¡± I said. ¡°Soup, maybe?¡± The barkeep scoffed and disappeared into the back.


    Meanwhile, Varkas ran a grimy hand over the battered surface of the table. ¡°So,¡± he muttered, leaning forward. ¡°You looked ready to fight back earlier. You got some kind of trump card?¡±


    I lowered my voice, not wanting half the tavern to overhear. ¡°I¡ªwell, I can use Holy Essence. Sort of.¡± I recalled that time during the fortress siege, when I¡¯d tapped into something that felt like a blazing light in my veins. It had been sloppy, sure, but it was real enough to keep me alive. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how it works, though. Sometimes it flares up. Sometimes...it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    He arched a brow, an amused grin tugging at his mouth. ¡°Holy Essence, you say? From a scrawny mutt like you?¡± He swigged from a fresh mug of ale that the barkeep slammed in front of him. ¡°Well, color me curious. People with Holy Essence usually have insane potential. But seeing how easily those scum caught you, you¡¯re either lying or you¡¯re hopeless. Which is it?¡±


    A twinge of annoyance flared in my chest. ¡°I¡¯m not lying. It¡¯s real. But I never got proper training, and...¡± I shrugged, feeling the weight of my failures. ¡°Look, I need help. Someone who actually understands how to control it.¡±


    Varkas regarded me for a long moment. His eyes flicked to the small cut on my cheek, the bruises on my arms. Maybe he saw desperation. Maybe he recognized something else¡ªlike that faint trace of Holy Essence I couldn¡¯t quite hide. ¡°Heh. So you¡¯re not completely useless. Question is, why come to me?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve met here who can actually wield Holy Essence. Everyone else¡ª¡± I paused, remembering how the guild had turned me away for being underage, how the city guards hardly cared, how the normal folks saw me as just another outsider. ¡°I guess you¡¯re my only shot right now,¡± I admitted, swallowing what remained of my pride.


    He ran a finger around the rim of his mug, then licked the beer foam. ¡°That¡¯s a sad story, friend. But I¡¯m not exactly known for charitable deeds.¡± His voice was steady, but I sensed a hint of amusement laced with caution. ¡°If I were to teach you anything, what do I get out of it?¡±


    I racked my brain. What could I possibly offer? ¡°I...don¡¯t have much. But I¡¯ll do whatever it takes. If you want me to run errands, pay you back once I make some money¡ª¡±


    Varkas snorted. ¡°Money, booze, favors...everyone promises that. Doesn¡¯t mean they deliver.¡± He knocked back a gulp from his mug. ¡°Still, there¡¯s something about you that¡¯s interesting, kid. You¡¯ve got that look in your eye¡ªlike you¡¯ve been through hell already and aren¡¯t afraid of what¡¯s next.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, but he lifted a hand for silence. The barkeep returned with a bowl of watery stew and a hunk of bread for me. She set it down unceremoniously, then stomped off to scold a drunk passed out at another table.


    I let the steaming scent wash over me. It wasn¡¯t fancy, but it was the best smell I¡¯d encountered in days. My stomach growled in anticipation. I dipped the bread, savoring the warm broth, only half-aware of how intently Varkas was watching me.


    He tapped a knuckle on the table. ¡°Tell you what: I¡¯ll give you a chance. But don¡¯t expect a cozy teacher-student relationship. If I say jump, you jump. If I tell you to scrape the shit off the alley floor, you do it. I won¡¯t coddle you. Hell, if you fail, I¡¯ll kick you to the curb. Clear?¡± S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My mouth was full of stew-soaked bread, so I just nodded. Despite the harsh tone, there was a flicker in his eyes¡ªlike he was testing me.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said with a reluctant smirk. ¡°Now eat up. You¡¯ll need your strength.¡± He took another swig of ale, then mumbled under his breath, ¡°Damn city. Always ignoring real talent, letting rat scum roam free. Guess I¡¯ll have to stir things up.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°So...why are you in the slums if you¡¯re that powerful?¡±


    His grin turned sour. ¡°Long story, boy. Let¡¯s just say the Academy and I...didn¡¯t part on good terms. You really want to learn from me, you¡¯ll hear the tale eventually. For now...¡± He shot me a glare that warned me not to pry further. ¡°Keep your mouth shut and focus on getting strong enough not to get kidnapped in an alley.¡±


    I gave a small nod, finishing the last of the bread. My body felt marginally better, yet every muscle remained tense from the earlier ambush. That was the second time since arriving in Reslau that I¡¯d nearly been sold off or killed. If not for Varkas, I wouldn¡¯t be sitting here at all.


    Silence settled between us for a moment, broken only by the distant murmur of other patrons and the barkeep¡¯s clinking dishes. Finally, Varkas stood up, tossing another coin onto the table. ¡°We¡¯re done here.¡±


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.


    ¡°Nowhere fancy. Just a place where your whining won¡¯t disturb my drinking,¡± he said flatly. ¡°And if you¡¯re really lucky, I might show you the first step to not dying next time someone tries to grab you.¡±


    Despite the offhand insult, my heart thumped with a cautious sense of hope. This was it¡ªthe beginning of something bigger. I stood and followed him out of the tavern, ignoring the furtive looks from a couple of suspicious patrons. The door creaked shut behind us, and the chilly night air hit me like a reminder that Reslau¡¯s slums were no place to let your guard down.


    In that moment, a realization sank in: If I wanted to get into the Academy, if I wanted to learn how to control Holy Essence, I¡¯d have to rely on this unhinged drunkard who seemed to stand at the crossroads of brilliance and madness. And for some strange reason, I felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought. Because maybe, just maybe, his madness was exactly what I needed to survive in this world.

 Chapter 41:A Deal with the Devil

    I followed Varkas silently through the labyrinthine backstreets of the slums, my feet sinking into patches of mud and grime with every step. Even in the dead of night, the district of Rellgrave was never truly quiet; distant shouts, barking dogs, and drunken laughter echoed like ghostly murmurs through the alleyways, painting a chaotic backdrop to the old drunkard¡¯s uneven steps.


    Despite his intoxicated sway, there was a certain odd confidence to Varkas¡¯s movements¡ªhe moved through the twisting paths with practiced ease, as though the alleys themselves made way for him. I, on the other hand, stumbled constantly, tripping over loose cobblestones and cursing softly every time a wet, grimy puddle seeped through the worn leather of my boots.


    Finally, we stopped in front of a derelict building. At first glance, it looked no different from any other crumbling ruin in the slums: rotted wooden planks nailed haphazardly over broken windows, faded graffiti covering its chipped brick walls, and the overwhelming stench of moldy timber lingering in the air. Varkas pushed open a creaky door with a lazy kick, revealing nothing but darkness inside.


    "Welcome home," he muttered sarcastically, bowing dramatically and gesturing me inside.


    I hesitated, peering cautiously into the gloom. A suspicious scurrying sound from somewhere within made me flinch. ¡°You actually live here?¡±


    He snorted, stepping past me and lighting a small, dusty lantern with a practiced flick of his finger. A soft amber glow flooded the room, illuminating piles of junk littered about in organized chaos. Bottles¡ªsome empty, others still half-full of questionable liquids¡ªwere scattered around like offerings at some strange shrine. Tattered books, yellowed scrolls, cracked clay cups, and rusted blades lay haphazardly on tables and shelves. In the corner stood an ancient training dummy, its stuffing bleeding out onto the splintered wooden floor.


    ¡°Oh, forgive me,¡± Varkas drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were expecting a palace. Would you prefer silk sheets and scented candles, Your Highness?¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Not what I meant. I just thought someone as strong as you would live...somewhere else.¡±


    His laughter came out bitter and sharp, surprising me. ¡°Strength doesn''t mean shit in this city, kid. What matters is who you know and who¡¯s got money. You think anyone cares if some old drunk has power when he smells like a dead rat and can¡¯t pay rent?¡± He took another long swig from a fresh bottle, eyes gleaming dangerously in the flickering lantern light. ¡°Power is useless if you¡¯re too drunk or too tired to wield it properly. You''d do well to remember that.¡±


    He moved toward a battered stool near a table and collapsed onto it heavily, letting out a tired sigh. I stood awkwardly near the door, unsure whether to sit or wait for his permission. When he noticed, he waved dismissively, annoyed.


    ¡°Sit down already, you''re making me nervous,¡± he grumbled, scratching his unkempt beard. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna bite you. Unless you want me to.¡±


    ¡°No thanks,¡± I muttered dryly, pulling up a crate and carefully lowering myself onto it. It creaked dangerously, but held. ¡°So...about that offer earlier.¡±


    He gave me a sharp look, as if suddenly remembering why I was even here. He tilted his head back, finishing another gulp before slamming the bottle down with unnecessary force.


    ¡°You want training, huh?¡± His voice turned serious, losing its mocking edge. His eyes were sharp now, almost painfully sober despite the alcohol he¡¯d consumed. ¡°Well, kid, I''ll tell you straight. I''m not the type who takes in disciples and guides them gently. You¡¯ll get no encouragement, no kind words, no pats on the back. And honestly, I don¡¯t even like you enough to be your friend. You¡¯ll hate me before the week is over.¡±


    I held his gaze, trying not to let my apprehension show. ¡°I don¡¯t need a friend. I need someone who can teach me how not to die. And from what I saw tonight, you¡¯re exactly that.¡±


    His lips curled into a wry, humorless smirk. ¡°Brave words for a boy who nearly ended up as merchandise.¡±


    A flush of humiliation warmed my cheeks. ¡°Yeah, well, that¡¯s exactly why I need your help. I¡¯ve used Holy Essence twice, but I have no control over it. If I¡¯m ever going to survive this city, or have any chance at getting into the Academy, I need to learn from someone who actually understands it.¡±


    His eyebrows rose slightly, interest flickering in those weary eyes. ¡°You wanna go to the Academy? What the hell for? Rich brats and stuck-up noble bastards, all of them. They¡¯ll chew you up and spit you out faster than those alley rats would have.¡±


    ¡°I have my reasons,¡± I snapped, defensive despite myself. The thought of Cealith flashed in my mind¡ªmy only connection to anything that felt real or familiar in this messed-up fantasy world. ¡°Besides, isn¡¯t that where people go to become powerful?¡±


    He barked out another harsh laugh. ¡°Is that what you think power is? A fancy uniform, some shiny ass badges, and a bunch of arrogant pricks who couldn¡¯t light a candle without a chant? Kid, real power is raw, messy, and dangerous. It¡¯s not something taught by old men in ivory towers. It''s born in filth, tempered in pain, and sharpened by desperation. Real power,¡± he leaned closer, eyes blazing fiercely, ¡°is what I used tonight to keep those fuckers from dragging your sorry ass away.¡±


    My heartbeat quickened. I¡¯d never heard anyone speak about power this way. It felt terrifying¡ªbut also oddly liberating.


    ¡°Then teach me,¡± I said quietly, matching his intense stare. ¡°Teach me that kind of power. Whatever it takes, I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    He studied me silently for a long, tense moment. Finally, he nodded slowly, like he¡¯d just made a reluctant decision. ¡°All right. But let¡¯s set some rules straight, right now.¡±


    ¡°Rules?¡± I repeated uncertainly.


    ¡°Yeah, rules. First,¡± he raised a finger dramatically, eyes narrowing in mock-seriousness, ¡°Varkas is always right. If I say something, you shut up and listen. Second, no questions. Questions annoy me. Third, if you ever insult my alcohol, I''ll break both your legs.¡± He paused thoughtfully. ¡°Fourth¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± I interrupted, eyebrows furrowing. ¡°Break my legs?¡±


    He rolled his eyes, waving off my concern. ¡°Figure of speech. Mostly. Now, fourth¡ªany emotional whining earns you immediate punishment. And fifth, training ends when you either quit, run, or die.¡± He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin. ¡°Got it?¡±


    I stared at him, half-convinced he was completely insane, and half-convinced this was exactly what I needed. A brutal, no-nonsense mentor who wouldn¡¯t sugarcoat anything. My throat tightened, but I swallowed and nodded firmly.


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°Good boy,¡± he said condescendingly, patting my head roughly. ¡°And don¡¯t worry too much about the dying part. If it happens, I promise I¡¯ll drink at least one shot in your honor.¡±


    ¡°Very reassuring,¡± I muttered sarcastically.


    ¡°Glad you agree,¡± he chuckled darkly, then abruptly stood and grabbed a heavy cloak from a nearby hook, tossing it at me. ¡°Now get some sleep, kid. Tomorrow, training begins bright and early.¡±


    I caught the cloak awkwardly, frowning. ¡°How early exactly?¡±


    He smiled, turning toward a pile of ragged blankets in the corner. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, if you see the sun rise, you¡¯ve already failed.¡±


    With that ominous warning lingering in the stale air, Varkas collapsed into his makeshift bed, leaving me standing in the dim lantern light, clutching the heavy cloak, suddenly unsure of what exactly I''d gotten myself into.


    But despite the dread settling into my gut, I felt something else too¡ªa strange, burning anticipation. Maybe Varkas was right. Maybe real power was born in places like this, among the discarded and forgotten. And if I was going to survive long enough to find Cealith or enter the Academy, I¡¯d have to trust the drunken madman sleeping across the room.


    I sighed heavily, pulled the cloak tighter, and lay down on the cold, hard floor, knowing tomorrow would likely be one of the worst days of my life.


    I just hoped I''d survive it.


    When Varkas had said ''bright and early,'' I''d foolishly expected at least some indication of dawn. Instead, the violent shake of his rough hand woke me up while darkness still clung to the world outside. I squinted, bleary-eyed, my bones protesting at having spent the night on a cold, hard floor.


    "Rise and shine, princess," Varkas sneered, kicking the side of my makeshift bedroll just for good measure. "It''s time for your first lesson in humility."


    I groaned, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "What time is it?"


    "Does it matter?" He shrugged, already stumbling toward the battered door. "In the slums, you wake when trouble wakes¡ªand trouble doesn''t wait for dawn."


    Grumbling, I got to my feet, nearly tripping over an empty bottle. I had barely slept, haunted by thoughts of the training ahead, and the nagging fear that I''d made a colossal mistake in trusting a half-crazed drunk. But the memory of the raw, golden flames he''d summoned yesterday pushed me forward. I had no choice but to trust him. Not yet, anyway.


    Outside, the chill of pre-dawn air bit through my thin clothes, making me shiver involuntarily. Rellgrave felt different now; even emptier, more dangerous. The few lamps that flickered weakly in the alleyways cast sinister shadows across piles of garbage and forgotten belongings. I followed Varkas silently, keeping close. He moved with strange efficiency, only occasionally stumbling¡ªthough I suspected it was more habit than actual drunkenness at this point.


    "So," I finally ventured, hoping to break the tense silence, "what exactly are we doing this early?"


    He glanced back, smirking. "I¡¯m sending you on a noble quest, kid. A holy pilgrimage, you might say."


    I scowled, suspicious. "A pilgrimage? Seriously?"


    "Absolutely." His grin widened, eyes glinting mischievously. "You''re gonna feed the slum-dogs."


    I blinked, confused. "Dogs?"


    He chuckled darkly, the sound ringing ominously in the alley. "They''re not exactly puppies, mind you. Think of them more like tiny demons with teeth. Fast, mean, and half-starved. Perfect training partners."


    Before I could object, he tossed me a greasy, leather-wrapped parcel he''d fished from beneath his ragged cloak. I fumbled it, nearly dropping it to the filthy ground. "What''s this?"


    "Breakfast¡ªfor them, not you," he said matter-of-factly. "Your job¡¯s simple: Find one of these furry bastards, feed it, and don''t lose a finger. Easy, right?"


    "Easy?" I echoed incredulously. "Why the hell is this even necessary?"


    "Because I said so," Varkas replied simply, his eyes narrowing slightly. "First rule of training, kid. Do as you''re told, even if it makes no damn sense."


    His tone left no room for arguments, so I sighed and opened the parcel. The smell immediately hit me like a punch¡ªa vile mixture of rancid meat and spoiled fish. I gagged, holding it as far from my nose as possible. "This is disgusting."


    He laughed heartily, his voice bouncing off the crumbling brick walls. "Exactly why you''re holding it, not me. Now get moving; I''m not getting younger."


    With Varkas trailing lazily behind, I wandered cautiously down a particularly grim alley, holding the putrid offering at arm''s length. It didn''t take long before a soft, threatening growl came from the shadows to my left. Slowly, a small shape emerged from behind a pile of garbage, eyes glowing in the dim lamplight.


    The creature was indeed a dog¡ªat least, that''s what it resembled beneath layers of dirt and matted fur. Its ribs protruded, painfully visible under its filthy coat, yet its teeth bared in defiance, ready to rip me apart if I made a wrong move. My stomach clenched, nerves tightening.


    "Easy," I murmured softly, inching closer. "I¡¯m just bringing food¡ª"


    Before I could finish, the dog lunged, snapping furiously. I yelped, stumbling backward, nearly dropping the meat. Varkas burst out laughing, clapping his hands mockingly.


    "Great start! Already pissing yourself?"


    "Shut up!" I hissed back, heart racing. I took a breath, trying to steady myself. The dog stood its ground, hackles raised, growling deep in its throat. Clearly, it wasn''t going to make this easy.


    This was ridiculous. How the hell was this training? What did feeding some rabid stray have to do with mastering Holy Essence?


    "You''re thinking too hard, kid," Varkas called lazily, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "The beast smells your fear. Animals sense intention, not words. Want to master Holy Essence? Master yourself first."


    I swallowed, steeling myself against the instinctive urge to back away. Slowly, I knelt down, holding out the parcel. "Here. Food," I repeated softly, steadying my voice.


    The dog edged forward, cautious, suspicious. Its growling faded slightly, replaced by wary curiosity. My muscles tensed, ready to yank my hand back at the first hint of aggression. Carefully, I tossed a chunk of meat onto the ground near the dog.


    Instantly, it snapped up the food, its tail twitching slightly¡ªan unexpected sign of approval. Cautiously, I tossed another, and another, until eventually the dog sat quietly, its feral eyes watching me warily but no longer hostile.


    Varkas applauded mockingly, sauntering over. "Congratulations, you made a friend. Bet you''re feeling proud, huh?"


    I exhaled sharply, irritation bubbling up. "What was the point of that, exactly?"


    He smiled knowingly, tapping his temple. "Control your emotions under pressure, kid. Animals, enemies, Essence itself¡ªthey all respond to the state of your mind. Lose your cool, and you''re done for."


    I stared at him, frustration fading into reluctant understanding. "So, that was the real lesson?"


    Varkas shrugged, smirking. "Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoyed seeing you nearly get mauled by a tiny demon-dog."


    I scoffed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Before I could reply, he clapped me roughly on the shoulder, steering me toward another alley.


    "Lesson number two," he announced cheerfully. "Hope you aren''t afraid of a little cold water."


    I groaned inwardly, realizing this was just the beginning of a very long day. But despite the absurdity and irritation, I couldn¡¯t deny the strange sense of satisfaction simmering within me. It felt like the first step toward something meaningful, something real.


    And maybe, just maybe, Varkas wasn''t as insane as he pretended to be.


    Then again, judging by his next words, maybe he was.


    "Now, hurry up, kid. The thieves are extra stabby this time of night, and I''ve got bets to collect if you survive."


    Great. Just great.


    We moved through the winding slum alleyways, deeper into the oppressive gloom. The longer I spent in Rellgrave, the more it felt like its shadowy streets held secrets better left undiscovered. Each turn revealed another decrepit ruin, each street littered with trash, the stench of decay clinging stubbornly to everything. Still, Varkas navigated confidently through the maze, humming his irritatingly off-tune songs, seeming almost cheerful about my misery.


    Eventually, we emerged into a small square, illuminated by a single flickering street lamp that bathed everything in a sickly yellow glow. At its center sat a worn stone well, dark and foreboding.


    Varkas halted abruptly, pointing dramatically at the well with exaggerated reverence. "Behold, your next trial awaits."


    I eyed the well skeptically. "You want me to fetch water from that? It looks abandoned."


    "Precisely," Varkas smirked, clearly enjoying my apprehension. "They say the water down there is ice-cold and so deep it touches the bones of the city itself. Perfect for toughening up delicate young minds."


    "I thought you said this had something to do with Holy Essence," I grumbled, stepping closer to peer cautiously over the edge. The well stared back like a black void, its cold breath brushing my face, sending a shiver down my spine.


    "Everything''s about Essence, boy," Varkas said lazily, leaning against a nearby wall and yawning widely. "You''re far too weak to grasp it right now. Essence flows best when you¡¯ve faced fear head-on¡ªreal fear, mind you, not some watered-down imitation."


    I clenched my jaw, gripping the cold rope tied around an old bucket. Fear wasn''t exactly something I wanted to embrace again. I¡¯d already seen more than enough of it these past few months. But, despite how absurd all this seemed, I trusted Varkas¡ªat least enough to follow along. For now.


    Taking a deep breath, I lowered the bucket, listening as it creaked down into the darkness, deeper and deeper, until it struck water with a muffled splash. With a grunt, I began pulling it back up, muscles straining from exhaustion. Lack of food and proper rest were definitely catching up with me.


    Varkas watched silently, eyes twinkling with amusement, but I noticed him glance toward the surrounding alleys now and then, alert for something. Or someone.


    Just as the heavy bucket finally reached the top, my relief was cut short. A low whistle echoed from the shadows. Varkas tensed slightly, narrowing his eyes, and murmured quietly, "Ah, right on schedule."


    My pulse quickened instantly. "What''s happening?"


    Varkas stretched nonchalantly. "Remember when I mentioned the thieves? Well, they do enjoy a good ambush now and then. And you, kid, are perfect bait."


    "You son of a¡ª"


    A voice from behind interrupted me, cold and mocking. "Evening, gents. Lost, are we?"


    I spun around. Three figures stepped out from the shadows¡ªhooded, faces obscured by scarves. I noticed glints of steel in their hands, reflecting the weak lantern glow.


    "Don''t suppose you fine fellows could spare some coin for a few hungry souls?" the lead thief sneered, his eyes glinting with cruel intent. "Or maybe we''ll just help ourselves."


    Varkas yawned loudly, completely unconcerned. "All yours, boy. Show them your resolve or whatever nonsense it is you''re always whining about."


    I shot him a furious glare, disbelief mixing with panic. "Seriously?"


    He shrugged lazily, folding his arms. "Sink or swim, kid. Your choice."


    The thieves laughed darkly, stepping closer, daggers held threateningly. My heart hammered wildly in my chest. I''d faced violence plenty of times before, yet without any Essence, I was practically defenseless.


    "Look," I started cautiously, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. "We really don''t have anything worth stealing."


    "Funny," the leader said coldly. "We¡¯ll decide what''s valuable."


    The tallest thief lunged suddenly, blade aimed at my chest. Instinct took over, and I swung the heavy bucket in desperation. Water splashed everywhere, drenching me and catching my attacker square in the face. He staggered back, sputtering curses.


    My clothes were instantly soaked through, the icy chill shocking my senses, sharpening my focus. Another thief sprang forward; I dodged clumsily, losing my footing and slipping onto the muddy ground. Pain shot through my side as I rolled, barely avoiding a swift kick aimed at my ribs.


    "You¡¯re pathetic," the lead thief mocked, circling casually. "I expected better from someone training with the great drunken saint."


    Gritting my teeth, I scrambled back to my feet, dripping wet and shivering uncontrollably. Rage mixed with embarrassment surged within me. I glanced toward Varkas, who watched calmly, leaning against the wall like he was watching a street performance.


    "Damn it," I muttered bitterly. Was he really not going to help?


    The thieves approached again, this time more cautious, ready to finish me off. Desperation pushed my thoughts to race frantically. Essence¡ªI needed to tap into it. But how?


    "Concentrate, idiot!" Varkas suddenly barked. "Holy Essence doesn''t respond to hesitation. It answers when your survival instincts wake up. If you want to live, use that fear instead of being consumed by it!"


    His words snapped something inside me. He was right¡ªI was afraid. Terrified, even. But beneath that terror was anger, determination, and an overwhelming desire to survive. I closed my eyes briefly, digging deep, searching desperately within myself for that faint, elusive glow.


    There¡ªburied under exhaustion and anxiety, a small spark flickered. My pulse quickened, hope igniting alongside it. With one last effort, I reached inward, grasping at the warmth hidden in my chest.


    My eyes snapped open, golden light faintly glowing from my fingertips. It was weak, barely visible¡ªbut enough to startle the approaching thieves. Their leader hesitated, uncertainty crossing his face.


    "Well, well," Varkas murmured approvingly, smirking slightly. "Looks like the puppy''s found his fangs."


    I held up my hand defensively, the faint glow wavering uncertainly. "Back off," I warned, voice shaking more than I would have liked. "I don''t want to hurt you."


    The thieves glanced nervously at each other, visibly reconsidering their prey. After a tense pause, their leader spat angrily on the ground. "This ain''t worth the trouble. Let''s go."


    They retreated swiftly into the shadows, leaving me panting, trembling, and soaking wet. The glow faded from my hands as quickly as it had appeared. Fatigue crashed over me like a wave, my knees nearly buckling under the sudden weight of relief.


    Varkas sauntered over, clapping slowly, mockingly. "Impressive, kid. Weak as hell, barely controlled, but impressive nonetheless."


    "You bastard," I muttered weakly, sinking onto the cold ground. "You planned all of this, didn''t you?"


    "Obviously," he said cheerfully, extending a hand to help me up. "Nothing motivates a student faster than imminent death. Consider yourself lucky¡ªmost kids don''t get to experience such quality training." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I took his hand reluctantly, staggering to my feet, teeth chattering uncontrollably. "You¡¯re insane."


    He grinned widely, entirely unconcerned. "Insanity is just brilliance misunderstood, boy. You''ll understand eventually."


    I glared, shaking my head. Despite everything, a small part of me couldn''t help but feel oddly grateful. Whatever madness Varkas followed, it had pushed me toward something real. For the first time in ages, I''d touched that elusive power.


    As we began our slow, painful walk back through the winding streets, Varkas whistled that obnoxious tune once more. Exhausted, freezing, and thoroughly humiliated, I found myself smiling bitterly.


    This wasn''t what I''d imagined when dreaming about training and power, but maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªit was exactly what I needed.


    After trudging back through the filthy streets of Rellgrave, I found myself once again sitting opposite Varkas in the cramped, dimly lit tavern known as the Bitter Barrel. I was still damp, sore, and thoroughly exhausted, feeling like I''d been dragged through hell and spat back out. Judging by the amused glint in Varkas¡¯s eyes, he seemed perfectly content with himself.


    I took a slow sip from the chipped mug of ale he¡¯d thrust into my hands upon arriving. The bitter drink stung my tongue, but at least it numbed some of the ache still pulsing through my limbs. Around us, the tavern bustled quietly, filled with weary faces too absorbed in their own struggles to care about two battered strangers.


    Varkas slumped back, propping his dirty boots up on the table, and took a long swig from his own mug. "Not bad for your first day, kid," he chuckled darkly, wiping foam from his lips. "You''re still alive, mostly intact, and even managed to impress me slightly. Rare accomplishment."


    I scowled at him, fatigue blunting my filter. "Glad my near-death experiences entertain you so much."


    He laughed heartily, slamming his palm down and rattling the mugs. "That¡¯s the spirit! Bitterness suits you. Don''t worry, plenty more where that came from."


    I shook my head, sighing deeply. "How is nearly getting killed repeatedly supposed to help me control Holy Essence? I barely managed to summon it at all¡ªand even then, it was just a flicker."


    Varkas eyed me thoughtfully, suddenly serious. "That''s exactly why you''re doing this. Essence isn''t about magical chants or fancy hand gestures. It''s not even about pure talent. It''s raw emotion¡ªsurvival, rage, fear, joy¡ªrefined and controlled. Most academy brats never understand it. They''re too busy memorizing pointless rules. But you, kid, you''ve tasted real desperation. That''s your edge."


    His words resonated with something deep within me, an uncomfortable truth I''d long tried to bury. Desperation was becoming an old friend by now, and if that was what it took to master Essence, then maybe I''d finally found the right path¡ªno matter how miserable it was.


    "Fine," I muttered reluctantly, swirling my mug. "I get it. What''s next?"


    His eyes gleamed mischievously. "Glad you asked. Time for your last test tonight. Nothing too dangerous¡ªjust a little retrieval job."


    I stared at him skeptically, expecting another sadistic trap. "Retrieval job?"


    "Relax," he smirked, waving away my suspicion. "No more thieves or rabid dogs¡ªprobably. I left something important in an abandoned cellar nearby. A small ring with the academy crest. Means a lot to me. I''d get it myself, but¡ª" He paused, wiggling his fingers dramatically. "I''m lazy."


    I narrowed my eyes. "What''s the catch?"


    He laughed again, clearly enjoying my distrust. "There''s always a catch, kid. The cellar''s got a slight... infestation problem. Nothing serious, just a few oversized rodents. Clear them out, bring me the ring, and you¡¯ll officially survive day one."


    I sighed deeply, already imagining the horrors awaiting me. "You¡¯re a terrible mentor, you know that?"


    Varkas raised his mug mockingly. "Yet here you sit, drinking my ale. What does that say about you?"


    "That I have terrible judgment," I retorted, pushing myself to my feet. "Alright, let¡¯s just get this over with."


    "Atta boy," he chuckled, leaning back comfortably. "Hurry back¡ªI¡¯ve placed bets on your survival. Don''t let me down."


    I shot him a glare and headed back into the night, the chill biting at my still-damp clothes. Following Varkas''s vague directions, I soon arrived at an old, abandoned house tucked into a forgotten corner of Rellgrave. It was little more than a ruin, the wood rotting and sagging beneath decades of neglect. Moonlight cast eerie shadows across its crumbling facade, giving it the unsettling air of a place best left forgotten.


    Taking a deep breath, I stepped cautiously through the open doorway, cringing as the floorboards creaked ominously beneath my weight. Inside, the darkness was suffocating, broken only by thin slivers of moonlight filtering through cracked walls. My pulse quickened as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. I could barely see the narrow stairs that led down into the cellar. Gripping tightly onto an old wooden stick I''d found near the entrance, I slowly descended, every step echoing unnaturally loud in the silence.


    The cellar greeted me with oppressive darkness and the damp stench of mildew. I squinted, barely able to make out vague shapes¡ªa broken table, scattered debris, and piles of what looked disturbingly like bones. My stomach churned nervously.


    Then, a sudden rustling sound came from the shadows at my right. My grip tightened around the stick, adrenaline flooding my veins. "Come on," I muttered under my breath. "It''s just rats. Oversized, maybe, but still rats."


    A sharp, high-pitched squeak pierced the air, followed by a scuttling sound growing rapidly louder. Before I could react, a shadow lunged at me, knocking me sideways into a dusty wall. Pain shot through my shoulder as I stumbled, panic surging.


    I swung blindly with my makeshift weapon, connecting solidly with something furry and heavy. Another angry squeal, followed by scratching and more hissing noises echoing around me. Damn it¡ªhow many of these things were there?


    My heart hammered frantically. I desperately summoned that spark of Essence again, focusing as hard as I could. "Come on," I whispered desperately, clenching my fist. A faint golden glow began forming once more, wavering unsteadily in the darkness.


    Another shadow sprang at me; I sidestepped, striking with all my strength. My fist, now faintly glowing, collided directly with the creature, sending it screeching into the far wall. The faint light revealed a rat easily the size of a small dog, red eyes glinting viciously. Fear twisted in my gut, but determination overrode it. I struck again and again, fighting through exhaustion and pain, refusing to fall.


    When silence finally settled around me, I stood panting, surrounded by unconscious¡ªor possibly dead¡ªmutated rats. My legs trembled, my chest heaved, and Essence flickered weakly from my fingertips before fading. I staggered toward the broken table in the corner, eyes widening as I saw a small glinting object¡ªa golden ring engraved with the symbol of the Reslau Academy.


    As I picked it up, curiosity stirred within me. Why would Varkas leave something so obviously important in a filthy place like this? I pocketed it carefully, making my way slowly back to the tavern.


    When I returned, Varkas was waiting expectantly, grinning from ear to ear. Without a word, I handed him the ring. He examined it quietly, expression unreadable, before slipping it onto his finger with a satisfied nod.


    "You did well," he said softly, almost reluctantly. "Better than I expected."


    I sank back into my seat, exhaustion overtaking me completely. "Can you at least tell me why that ring matters so much?"


    He hesitated, eyes distant for a long moment. Finally, he spoke quietly, voice stripped of its usual mocking tone. "Because it reminds me of who I used to be. Before the academy betrayed me. Before I lost everything."


    His sudden sincerity stunned me. "What happened?"


    His smile returned, bitter and cold. "That story¡¯s for another night, kid. For now, just know you earned your place¡ªat least for today."


    He raised his mug in a silent toast. I followed suit, confusion mingling with pride. But before I could take another sip, his voice grew serious once more, quiet and ominous.


    "But tomorrow...tomorrow¡¯s when your real training begins. I hope you¡¯re ready, Aleks. Because if you thought today was hard, you haven''t seen anything yet."


    His dark laughter filled the air, echoing through the tavern and settling deep in my bones. And as I met his gaze¡ªwild, unpredictable, dangerous¡ªI felt a shiver run down my spine.


    What the hell had I gotten myself into?

 Chapter 42:Shadows of the Seraph

    A low, throbbing ache settled in my skull as I slowly came to, lying on a ragged excuse for a bed in Varkas¡¯s run-down hideout. Morning light crept through the gaps in the boarded-up window, illuminating dust motes that danced on the stale air. My entire body felt like lead, and the previous day¡¯s memories came rushing back¡ªhauling ice-cold water from a cursed well, tussling with oversized slum rats, and nearly getting myself killed by street thugs while Varkas looked on. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Yet here I was. Alive. Shaken, but alive.


    A tired groan escaped me. Every muscle screamed for rest, but the faint scuff of footsteps across the splintered floor yanked me from the edge of sleep. Varkas stood above me, eyes bloodshot, messy hair plastered to his brow with sweat. Somehow, he looked even more exhausted than I felt, but there was a grim set to his jaw I hadn¡¯t seen before.


    ¡°Get up,¡± he barked, voice gravelly from too little sleep and too much cheap liquor. ¡°We¡¯re going out. Time¡¯s running short.¡±


    I blinked, forcing myself to sit. ¡°Morning to you too,¡± I managed, my throat parched. ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    His gaze flicked to the sagging door, then back to me. ¡°Somewhere we can test how much you¡¯ve actually got in you. You think you¡¯re tough because you survived one day of my training? Trust me, kid, we¡¯ve barely scratched the surface.¡± He scooped up a half-empty bottle of some questionable drink, shot me a humorless grin, and trudged outside without another word.


    With an unsteady sigh, I got to my feet, slipping on what remained of my boots. The slums beckoned beyond the threshold¡ªfilthy, unwelcoming, and in many ways, the perfect place for someone like Varkas to hide. Or to train a desperate fool like me.


    I followed him into the narrow alley, the early sunlight painting the crumbling walls in a dull copper glow. My stomach growled, but I bit back any complaint. Asking for food now seemed pointless, especially when my so-called mentor looked like he¡¯d been awake all night. He moved fast, weaving through backstreets and half-collapsed passages that smelled of rot and damp soil. I stumbled behind, only half-awake.


    Eventually, we reached a small courtyard¡ªif one could call it that¡ªnestled between leaning buildings. A few stray cats scattered as we arrived, darting behind broken crates. The space was just wide enough for the two of us to stand without bumping into rubble. Sunlight barely reached here, but it was enough to see a curious collection of half-faded symbols scrawled across the cracked ground.


    Varkas planted himself in the center, pressing a hand to his temple as though fighting off a headache. ¡°Alright, kid. We¡¯re doing something I learned back at the Academy. A little trick they don¡¯t teach just anyone. Call it¡­ a Soul-Reflection Rite.¡±


    My brows rose. Hearing him refer to the Academy almost sounded like blasphemy. Varkas never talked about those days beyond bitter curses and drunken rants. For him to bring up an actual technique from there meant he was serious.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s this ¡®Rite¡¯ supposed to do?¡± I asked, stepping gingerly around a jagged stone. My boots squelched in the mud, reminding me how battered they were.


    He glanced at the symbols on the ground, then knelt with surprising focus. ¡°It¡¯s meant to reveal what lies buried inside you. Draw out repressed memories, regrets, trauma¡ªwhatever your soul¡¯s hiding. You can¡¯t tame your Essence if your mind¡¯s a cluttered mess. And you, my friend, have the biggest damn mess I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    A flicker of indignation sparked inside me, but I swallowed it. Arguing wouldn¡¯t help. I could still recall how my faint Holy Essence had flared during those life-or-death moments, how it had sputtered out just as quickly. If this was the only way to dig deeper, so be it.


    I stepped closer, casting a wary eye on the scribbled symbols¡ªintricate lines forming concentric circles, dotted with strange runes that seemed half-familiar. ¡°And what if it goes wrong?¡±


    ¡°It will,¡± he said bluntly, searching his tattered pockets for something. ¡°But that¡¯s the point. You think the Academy folks learned to be top-tier mages with cozy lectures and warm tea? Nah, they risked their lives, sanity, and damn near everything else. Now hold still.¡±


    He pulled out a small, rusted dagger¡ªits blade jagged and stained with who-knew-what¡ªand cut his thumb, hissing softly as blood welled up. Before I could protest, he swiped the dagger across my forearm too, eliciting a sharp sting. A crimson line blossomed. I bit my lip, holding back a yelp.


    ¡°What the hell¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± he snapped, pressing our bleeding cuts together over a specific rune on the ground. ¡°Blood of the mentor, blood of the student. That¡¯s how the Rite starts.¡±


    I fought the urge to recoil. This was more intense than I¡¯d expected. A moment later, a chill rippled through the air. The runes on the ground flickered to life, glowing a faint amber color before turning gold. My pulse quickened, and I felt a tug somewhere deep inside my chest, like invisible hands pulling at my mind.


    Varkas¡¯s voice dropped to a low, commanding tone. ¡°Remember your nightmares, Aleks. The people you failed to save. The regrets you never spoke aloud. The burdens you carry. We¡¯re dragging them all to the surface.¡±


    He spoke as if reciting lines from a half-forgotten script. The ground beneath me vibrated with a quiet hum, echoing in my bones. Unease roiled in my gut; I recalled the glimpses of Earth¡¯s invasion, the screams, the final stand before the angel¡¯s bright wings engulfed everything. Memories I tried so hard to bury threatened to burst free.


    My vision blurred, and the courtyard melted away like a watercolor painting in the rain. Soon, I was standing in utter blackness. Then shapes flickered¡ªfamiliar silhouettes. Carmen¡¯s face, tear-streaked in the final moments; Nikita¡¯s determined grin splattered with blood. My breath caught in my throat as I reached out to them, but my hand passed through nothing but air.


    ¡°Carmen!¡± I gasped. The name tore from my lips. ¡°Nikita¡­?¡±


    They turned to face me, their eyes hollow, accusing. My chest tightened, guilt wrapping itself around my heart like barbed wire. How could I have survived when they didn¡¯t?


    Laughter echoed, cruel and dissonant. Antoine¡¯s twisted sneer surfaced, the memory of him beating me into the ground, the scorn in his eyes. The scene blurred, jumping from moment to moment¡ªmy friends dying on Earth, the desolation of that final battle, the angelic being¡¯s radiant wings enveloping me in a swirl of light.


    I screamed, stumbling forward, trying to cling to anything real in this torrent of guilt and sorrow. A voice buzzed at the edge of my consciousness, one I recognized as Varkas¡¯s, urging me to ground myself. But how?


    Then I felt it¡ªa burning glow flickering in the center of my chest, the same warmth that teased me awake every morning, stronger now, almost¡­ divine. Slowly, I breathed it in, letting it seep through my veins, letting the heartbreak fuse with raw determination.


    ¡°I¡­ I won¡¯t drown in this,¡± I hissed, teeth clenched. My voice sounded distant, as if coming from someone else. I summoned every ounce of will I had left, confronting those illusions of Carmen and Nikita. ¡°I couldn¡¯t save you¡­ but I¡¯m still here! So I have to keep going.¡±


    Their faces wavered, contorting with the glimmer of the golden light inside me. Something cracked in the darkness, like a mirror splitting. The illusions trembled, and a brilliant corona flared around my body, pulsing in tandem with my racing heartbeat.


    Suddenly, everything shattered¡ªshards of blackness fell away, replaced by the swirling gloom of the courtyard. Varkas stood across from me, half-collapsed, his own breathing ragged. The runes and symbols glowed furiously beneath my feet, swirling with frantic energy.


    ¡°Kid,¡± he wheezed, voice tinged with both shock and something akin to pride. ¡°Stay in control¡ª¡±


    His words died as I hunched over, my entire being consumed by a surging force that raced along every nerve. My arms tingled, and out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw the faint outline of shimmering wings. A thunderous pressure built in my ears, drowning out my own ragged gasps. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst through my ribs.


    Holy Essence.


    Not just a trickle or spark like before, but a colossal wave that demanded release. Raw, scorching, and impossible to contain, it roared through me, fueled by sorrow and longing and stubborn refusal to give up. A strangled cry escaped my throat as golden arcs of light crackled around my body, illuminating the courtyard in an otherworldly glow.


    Varkas scrambled away, shielding his eyes with one arm. ¡°What the¡­?!¡± he shouted, clearly reeling from the intensity.


    I clenched my fists, tears streaming down my cheeks without my permission. Flashes of Earth, of the angel¡¯s final words, of the moment I should¡¯ve died alongside my friends, surged to the surface. My anguish, my rage at the unfairness of it all, coalesced into something pure and ferocious.


    The runes under my feet exploded in a shower of golden sparks. Walls around us cracked, the ancient bricks trembling under the strain. A vortex of shimmering essence spiraled overhead, stirring the dust and debris into a frenzied storm. My eyes burned, half-blinded by the swirling radiance.


    ¡°Impossible,¡± I heard Varkas snarl, but his voice was distant. ¡°No one can control that much¡ª¡±


    He never finished. The wave of golden energy shattered what remained of the courtyard¡¯s fragile boundaries, washing over everything in a deafening roar. My consciousness teetered on the edge, overwhelmed by a bright, searing ecstasy mingled with heartbreak. For a moment, I swore I felt an echo of wings behind me, comforting yet terrifying. Then, darkness smothered my vision.


    I didn¡¯t recall hitting the ground, but I must have, because when I blinked again, the light was gone. My body lay sprawled among shattered stones, every muscle limp. Tendrils of steam rose from my skin, and I tasted copper on my lips. Distantly, I heard Varkas calling my name over and over, his usually mocking tone laced with genuine panic.


    The last coherent thought that flickered through my mind was the memory of a glowing figure, gently whispering, ¡°Live, and remember¡­ you must become the vessel of light.¡±


    Then everything went black.


    Sensation returned slowly, as though my mind were emerging from the depths of a dark ocean. A dull throbbing pulse hammered behind my eyes, and it took a few painstaking breaths before I recognized the uneven ceiling above me. Judging by the cracked timber beams and the flicker of a lantern, I was back at Varkas¡¯s hideout.


    I tried to sit up, but a wall of pain pinned me down. My whole body felt stretched too thin, like I¡¯d run a marathon without ever training for it. Memories of brilliant golden light and raw, agonizing power flooded back, making my heart spike with residual panic.


    ¡°Easy, idiot. Don¡¯t make me tie you to the floor.¡± Varkas¡¯s familiar growl drifted from somewhere to my left. I turned my head, spotting him slouched against a makeshift stool. His brow shone with sweat despite the chill in the room, and there were fresh gashes on his forearms.


    ¡°How¡­ long was I out?¡± My voice cracked, barely more than a rasp.


    He exhaled, sounding exhausted in a way I¡¯d never heard before. ¡°A couple hours¡ªfelt more like years. Brought you back here after you damn near leveled half that courtyard. Shit, kid, I¡¯ve seen some messed-up stuff in my time, but that¡­¡± He trailed off, shaking his head.


    A wave of shame and confusion hit me. I swallowed, forcing down the knot in my throat. ¡°I couldn¡¯t control it. Everything just¡ªsnapped. I¡­ saw them. Nikita, Amina, Daisuke, Carmen¡­ I heard something about being a vessel of light. It was all mixed up, like a dream.¡±


    Varkas snorted softly. ¡°A dream? Looked more like a nightmare from where I was standing.¡± He rubbed a hand across his face, studying me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. ¡°Listen, kid. Normal Holy Essence users¡ªat least the ones I¡¯ve met¡ªcan¡¯t do half that. Hell, the best mages at the Academy would sweat blood to conjure a fraction of that power. You, on the other hand¡­¡± He paused, searching for the right words. ¡°Let¡¯s just say you¡¯re too damn explosive for your own good.¡±


    The dryness in my mouth grew worse, and I struggled onto my elbows. ¡°So¡­ I messed up. Did I hurt anyone?¡±


    He let out a harsh laugh. ¡°No one but yourself and a few street rats who got the shock of their lives when the ground split open. I doubt they¡¯ll ever stroll near that courtyard again. But that¡¯s not the point.¡± His gaze hardened. ¡°The point is, you¡¯re not normal. You¡¯re something else.¡±


    My pulse fluttered in my chest. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    He slammed a hand on the crate beside him, rattling an empty bottle. ¡°I mean no half-baked kid from the slums should be able to manifest wings of fucking light¡ªif that¡¯s what I actually saw. The shockwave alone tore the runes to shreds, and I barely managed to drag you back.¡± Frustration flared in his tone. ¡°I¡¯ve got no clue what you really are.¡±


    A chill prickled across my arms, goosebumps rising. My memory of the meltdown was hazy, but I did recall a fleeting sensation of something behind me¡ªlike ghostly feathers brushing my back. ¡°Wings¡­ Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Sure as I am about being hungover every morning,¡± he growled, clutching at his temple. ¡°I¡¯m no religious fanatic, but that was too damned close to an angelic phenomenon. Some folks would sell their souls to replicate it. Others would burn you at the stake for it. Either way, we¡¯ve got a big problem.¡±


    Fear twisted in my gut. I thought back to that ephemeral vision¡ªthe angel who has send me here 10 000 years later an on my final moment on that battlefield. Shame and longing tangled with the dread swirling through my mind. ¡°What kind of problem?¡±


    Varkas straightened, wincing a bit like his ribs hurt. ¡°The Academy¡¯s tournament is a month away, right? But you just lit up Reslau like a fucking beacon. Anyone with a nose for magic must¡¯ve felt that flare¡ªeven a blind novice could sense it. And you can bet your sorry ass the Academy keeps watchers in these slums. They know weird shit happens here.¡±


    I clenched my fists, noticing how my fingers trembled. ¡°So¡­ they¡¯ll come looking?¡±


    ¡°Count on it,¡± he muttered darkly. ¡°They¡¯ll sniff around, ask questions. Maybe they¡¯ll try to recruit you or lock you up for ¡®study.¡¯ Depends on who they send first. Either way, you¡¯re not ready for them.¡±


    Tension coiled in my shoulders as I forced myself to sit fully upright, ignoring the fresh wave of dizziness. ¡°Then¡­ what do we do?¡±


    His eyes narrowed. ¡°We train harder¡ªfaster. Or you get the hell out of Reslau before they track you down. But I¡¯m guessing you won¡¯t run. Your precious tournament¡¯s a month away, and you¡¯re dead-set on attending, right?¡±


    I swallowed, my mouth painfully dry. The thought of leaving this city, giving up my chance to reach the Academy¡¯s gates¡ªwhere I might finally find answers about Cealith, about my inexplicable power¡ªfelt like a punch to the gut. ¡°I won¡¯t run,¡± I said, voice steadier than I expected. ¡°I have to face whatever this is. Even if I¡­ even if I¡¯m not exactly human anymore.¡±


    A flicker of unease crossed Varkas¡¯s face, but he hid it behind a gruff scoff. ¡°Fine. Just don¡¯t blame me when the Academy¡¯s goons come knocking.¡± He pushed to his feet, eyeing me critically. ¡°Rest for now. You can¡¯t even walk without wobbling like a drunk toddler, so you¡¯re worthless to me at the moment.¡±


    My cheeks burned at the insult, but I realized he was right. My limbs still felt like lead, and every part of me ached. ¡°Alright,¡± I mumbled, letting myself slump back against the makeshift bedding. ¡°But tomorrow¡ª¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± he interrupted firmly, ¡°we¡¯ll figure out a plan to keep your wings clipped until you can actually control them. Because right now, you¡¯re a walking bomb, kid.¡± He grabbed his battered cloak, eyes dark. ¡°I¡¯m stepping out for a bit. Don¡¯t try anything stupid while I¡¯m gone. And for the love of all that¡¯s holy, don¡¯t do that meltdown shit again.¡±


    I watched him go, heart pounding with a tumult of emotions¡ªfear, confusion, a flicker of reluctant hope. Because if Varkas was this rattled, then the power inside me really was extraordinary. But extraordinary power without control was a disaster waiting to happen.


    As the door banged shut behind him, I closed my eyes, breath escaping in a shaky exhale. My memories spun in loops¡ªearth-shattering golden light, that fleeting sense of wings on my back, the taste of raw anguish. Deep within, something stirred again, just a spark. I clenched my jaw, determined not to let it consume me this time. If I was truly some kind of angelic vessel, I¡¯d damn well figure out how to harness it on my own terms.


    But first, I needed to survive. And the clock was already ticking.


    Cealith¡¯s POV


    I maintain little interest in the passage of time these days. The Academy¡¯s high spires and their attendant wards have sheltered me from the mortal world for centuries, ensuring my tasks remain uninterrupted. Somewhere below these marble floors, students and scholars chase knowledge they scarcely grasp. Their ambitions amuse me, but only vaguely.


    I sit in my private chamber, its walls lined with tomes far older than most kingdoms. A single candle flickers on an ornate table, illuminating the parchments I¡¯ve been studying. Each page carries half-forgotten scripts describing Essence theory, cosmic truths, and the lingering echoes of a past few remember. Even with ten millennia behind me, there are secrets in these texts I haven¡¯t fully unraveled. I suspect few others even suspect such mysteries exist.


    A faint draft slithers through the chamber, carrying with it a sudden disturbance. My pulse quickens, though I barely acknowledge it. Something pricks the edge of my consciousness¡ªan immense surge of Holy Essence, raw and unbridled. Slowly, I set my quill aside, pressing a hand to my chest. It¡¯s an alien sensation¡ªdiscomfort, perhaps, or the distant echo of alarm. My breath feels heavier.


    For a moment, I recall the day we truly arrived here, uprooted from our doomed homeland. I alone remain who can confirm how this planet came to host our scattered races. It was a passage drenched in cosmic strife. My memory of it never fades, no matter how many centuries slip through my grasp. If Holy Essence has reappeared in such magnitude, there may be another rift in the making¡ªa repeat of devastation we once barely survived.


    I rise from my chair, gazing toward the window. Night¡¯s shadows cling to the horizon, and yet I sense light flaring somewhere in Reslau, like a beacon to all who can feel it. Another cataclysm in the making? The mortal realm can scarcely withstand one more. But I have lived too long to let silence be my guide now.


    I summon a scout with a subtle command. He arrives swiftly, head bowed. I see no point in greeting formalities.


    ¡°An unnatural surge,¡± I say, voice calm, almost devoid of inflection. ¡°Locate its source. Bring me all details. We must ensure the balance holds.¡±


    The scout salutes wordlessly and vanishes from my chamber. I remain motionless, letting the candlelight cast my shadow upon the ancient scrolls.


    I am all that remains of those who once knew the truth. If this Holy Essence is the harbinger of a new rupture, I alone must decide how to guide or halt it. My time may be long, but it is not limitless. And if this phenomenon stands as I fear¡ªthen the final secrets of our origin may soon be forced into light.


    A single thought crosses my mind as I douse the candle: We do not have another ten thousand years to spare.

 Chapter 43:Ten Thousand Winters Alone

    Cealith''s POV


    The flickering flame of the candle before me danced gently, casting elongated shadows across ancient pages of forgotten texts. My eyes wandered over words written thousands of years ago¡ªwords penned by trembling hands that had long since returned to dust. The quiet of this chamber had become as familiar as the rhythm of my own breath, each page a memory, each book a remnant of eras no one else had lived through but myself.


    Ten thousand years.


    Such time had a way of dulling even the sharpest edges of memory. Yet, somehow, the most painful ones remained vivid, etched permanently in my consciousness. I traced my fingers lightly across the worn parchment, feeling its delicate fibers beneath my touch, and allowed myself a moment of fleeting nostalgia.


    The events earlier this evening lingered stubbornly in my mind¡ªa powerful burst of Holy Essence, one that I knew, beyond any doubt, could shake the foundations of our carefully maintained balance. It was impossible, unprecedented even. Something like that should not have occurred, at least not now, not here. But the universe, in all its infinite irony, seemed to delight in testing my patience yet again.


    A sigh escaped me as I rose slowly from the chair, my limbs moving with the practiced grace of centuries. Age had granted me knowledge, and immortality gifted me strength, yet I felt weary. A quiet ache, subtle but persistent, pulsed within my bones, reminding me of the immense passage of time I''d endured. Immortality, I often reflected, was far less glamorous than the younger races imagined it to be.


    I crossed the room to a polished mirror framed in ancient silver, adorned with delicate elven engravings depicting the moons and stars¡ªsymbols of a homeland long lost. My reflection gazed back, unchanging: smooth skin untouched by time, silver hair cascading down my shoulders like moonlight itself, eyes sharp and clear but bearing the unshakeable weight of countless lifetimes.


    ¡°You have lingered too long, old friend,¡± I murmured softly, addressing my own reflection. It offered no response, only stared silently back, as it always had.


    Turning away from the mirror, I allowed my eyes to drift across the room¡ªa place I''d dwelled in longer than any mortal could conceive. Shelves lined with meticulously ordered books reached upward, their spines cracked and faded. Each volume represented fragments of history, truths guarded from generations who lacked the wisdom or strength to bear their weight.


    Outside, night blanketed Reslau Academy in its comforting darkness. My feet moved instinctively toward the large balcony, and I stepped out to greet the cool night air. The academy sprawled before me, silent, bathed in the soft, silver glow of the twin moons overhead. Towering spires stretched into the heavens, while manicured gardens lay in shadowed repose, their paths deserted at this late hour.


    It was strange to imagine that this place¡ªmy home for thousands of years¡ªwould soon continue without me. By next year, the mantle I had borne for so long would pass to another. The knowledge I''d carefully cultivated, protected, and reluctantly shared, was already nestled within the hearts and minds of my chosen successors¡ªthe Top 4, as the younger generations called them.


    A wistful pang tightened in my chest. Soon I would step aside, vanish quietly, and allow another generation to shape the fate of this world. But first, I had to ensure they knew the truths hidden from even their keenest perceptions. Secrets I alone had carried all these millennia¡ªsecrets that were mine alone to share or withhold.


    For ten thousand years, I alone had guarded the reality of our existence, the origins of Essence itself. I alone had walked this earth since the time before Essence flowed within mortal veins. How long had I waited, watching silently as darkness rose and fell like relentless tides, each wave stronger, each battle more desperate?


    My mind wandered to the last great conflict five years ago. Humanity and its allies had barely survived the wrath of darkness¡ªsaved, at great cost, by arkan, the shadowborn. A warrior of unparalleled skill whose strength still perplexed me. Yet, even he was just another temporary respite, another frail barricade against an unending storm. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    These creatures¡ªthese shadows that crawled relentlessly from unknown voids¡ªhad driven lesser minds to madness. Scholars speculated endlessly on their origin. Religious zealots called them punishment from the gods, while mages considered them products of uncontrolled Essence. But I had grown weary of theories. Ten thousand years had taught me only one thing about the darkness: each return was more ferocious, more devastating. As if they were learning from our defenses, evolving, becoming stronger.


    What troubled me most was not knowing if they were a natural phenomenon or punishment, or perhaps something altogether more sinister. My heart, ancient and guarded, ached with the burden of uncertainty. Madness had crept dangerously close more than once. Only my stubborn determination and perhaps arrogance had kept it at bay. But even I had limits.


    My fingertips brushed lightly against a small carving resting upon a marble pedestal nearby¡ªa delicate piece depicting a group of human youths. It had been years since I allowed myself to reflect upon their brief intrusion into my life. Carmen, with her unwavering strength and kindness; Nikita, whose courage overshadowed even his considerable skill; Amina and Daisuke, whose warmth and camaraderie had felt strangely comforting.


    And Aleks.


    Aleks, my... friend. My best friend, perhaps, though I never spoke those words aloud.


    He was the quiet light none of us fully realized we orbited. Not the loudest, nor the strongest, nor the wisest, and yet somehow¡­ he was the axis around which everything turned. Without trying, without knowing, he brought us together. Without him, we would have drifted¡ªjust fragments of a broken generation bound for war.


    He was the first to fall asleep during those rare moments of peace. Always pretending he wasn¡¯t tired, always claiming he¡¯d just close his eyes ¡°for a second.¡± He never did last long.


    I remember one night, the rest of us stayed up after he¡¯d passed out near the bonfire. It was quiet, stars flickering above us. We talked about leaving, about disappearing into some distant forest where the war couldn¡¯t find us. Carmen even joked about opening a tavern. Nikita said he¡¯d be the bouncer. Daisuke ,calculating the statistical chances of the business actually succeeding¡ªwith a stick, in the dirt, like it was some sacred formula. I just watched them.


    And when Amina looked down at Aleks, asleep with his arms curled beneath his head, she smiled and said something I never forgot.


    ¡°He makes it feel like we¡¯re a family.¡±


    She was right. For all my years, all my wisdom, I never understood that feeling¡ªnot truly¡ªnot until then.


    He reminded me what it meant to belong. What it meant to be... alive.


    Perhaps that was why, when the time came, I obeyed him.


    Aleks had looked me in the eye¡ªcalm, resolute¡ªand told me to go.


    Those were his words.


    And I listened.


    I told myself it was strategy. That someone had to survive. That the knowledge I carried was too important to die with me.


    But deep down... I still wonder if that was just cowardice, dressed in logic.


    I should have argued.


    I should have stayed.


    He gave the order like a soldier, but he was still just a boy. My friend.


    Even now, ten thousand years later, I still hear his voice, steady in the chaos, as the world collapsed around us.


    And it still burns.


    The brief time I''d spent with them had left an impression upon me deeper than expected. They were mortal, flawed, and so painfully human¡ªand yet, perhaps because of it, they''d touched upon something within me that no other beings had in thousands of years.


    I blinked slowly, startled by a sudden, unfamiliar sensation¡ªa gentle warmth rolling down my cheek. Hesitantly, I touched my fingertips to my face, withdrawing them to stare at a single droplet glistening faintly in the moonlight.


    A tear.


    I frowned, uncertain how to respond to something I had forgotten how to feel. Emotion, genuine and raw, was an alien concept now. And yet, as I gazed at that solitary tear, I understood something had irrevocably shifted within me. It was a sign.


    The time for hesitation had passed. It was finally time to share the truth that had burdened me for ten thousand years.


    Slowly, deliberately, I moved back inside, slipping into formal robes. I knew exactly whom I needed to speak with: one of the Top 4, my trusted successor, who would inherit all I''d built.


    The halls of the Academy were empty as I walked through them, my footsteps echoing softly against polished marble floors. Each step resonated with quiet resolve. The revelation I was about to share would alter everything; it would reshape their understanding of the world, of Essence, of existence itself.


    Yet, it had to be done.


    Soon, I arrived at a chamber adorned with flowing silks and crystalline lanterns. My chosen successor, Seraphina, a young woman whose wisdom far surpassed her years, turned in surprise as I entered. She bowed her head slightly in respect, curiosity clear in her eyes.


    "Master Cealith," she spoke quietly, her voice filled with gentle reverence. "What brings you here at this hour?"


    "It is time," I replied softly, my voice carrying the weight of millennia. "The truths I have guarded for too long must finally be spoken."


    Her eyes widened slightly, confusion mixing with a careful eagerness. "Master?"


    I raised a hand gently to still her questions. "Before Essence flowed in our veins¡ªbefore it even existed¡ªthere was another truth. Tonight, I shall share with you not only the origins of Essence but the origins of our world itself. You must carry this burden now."


    Seraphina opened her mouth to speak, her expression a mask of reverent awe and uncertainty, but before a single word could escape, hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, abruptly shattering the delicate moment.


    The chamber doors burst open, revealing breathless scouts, their faces tense and anxious.


    "Master Cealith!" one exclaimed, urgency straining his voice. "We have searched everywhere! It''s urgent¡ªthe surge of Holy Essence you sensed earlier, we found its source. It¡¯s beyond anything we have encountered. You must come now!"


    My heart tightened as I met the eyes of my successor, silently communicating the severity of the interruption. With slow, deliberate calm, I turned to face the scouts.


    "Then," I whispered, voice steady yet burdened, "it appears the truth must wait a little longer. Let us see what manner of being commands such impossible power."

 Chapter 44:The Saint’s Lesson Plan

    Aleks POV


    The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the smell.


    Something between sour onions, old leather, and what I could only describe as regret. My head pounded like a war drum in my skull, and I groaned as I sat up. Every bone in my body protested the movement, and a sharp jolt ran down my spine when I tried to stretch.


    "Ah. Sleeping Beauty wakes," came the voice¡ªdry, amused, and unmistakably Varkas.


    He sat across from me at a battered wooden table, sipping from a chipped mug that may or may not have once contained alcohol. His robes were still torn at the hem, one sleeve missing entirely. A bandage was wrapped haphazardly around his right wrist, though it looked more like a fashion choice than medical necessity. His beard was slightly cleaner than the night before, but only slightly.


    "I was hoping you''d stay out long enough for me to finish my drink in peace," he muttered, glancing at the cup like it had betrayed him.


    "You call that peace?" I croaked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "It smells like something died in here."


    Varkas raised an eyebrow and took a slow sip. "That''s just you, kid."


    Charming.


    I swung my legs off the thin cot and stared at the dim room around us. It was definitely some kind of basement or back room¡ªprobably beneath the tavern. Dust floated lazily in the shafts of light cutting through the crooked window. The walls were stone, the floor wooden, and the air heavy with moisture and old booze.


    There were no windows large enough to see outside, but the warm tone of light told me it was morning.


    "How long was I out?"


    "A day," Varkas said simply. "Give or take an hour. You collapsed like a sack of rocks after flaring that Essence bomb."


    I frowned. The memory came back in fragments. Pain. Light. Power burning in my veins like molten gold. The look on Varkas''s face just before I blacked out. It wasn''t fear. It was something closer to awe¡ªand, disturbingly, worry.


    He must''ve caught my expression, because he leaned back in his chair and said, "You''ve got too much juice for someone who doesn''t know how to use a damn drop of it."


    "Thanks?" I muttered.


    "Wasn''t a compliment."


    He stood up with a groan and stretched his arms until something cracked loudly.


    "We''ve got twenty-eight days until that fancy Academy tournament opens its doors. Twenty-eight days to make you slightly less pathetic."


    I blinked. "Less pathetic?"


    "You''re not gonna be in that time, kid. But maybe we can fake it well enough to keep you alive. And if we''re lucky¡­" He trailed off and gave me a long, unreadable look. "Maybe we can break that seal."


    My brows furrowed. "Seal?"


    Varkas snorted, walking toward the cluttered corner of the room where a lopsided chalkboard stood.


    "You really think you just suck at controlling Essence? Nah. I checked you while you were out. There''s something weird clogging your reservoir. You''ve only got access to maybe five percent of your total pool¡ªif that."


    I sat upright, the soreness in my muscles forgotten.


    "Five percent? That''s it?"


    He nodded, already scribbling something on the board with a cracked piece of white chalk.


    "It''s like trying to drink from a barrel through a straw plugged with wax. You''ve got more energy in you than most Royal-blooded brats, but it''s locked behind¡­ something. Trauma maybe. Or worse."


    "Worse?"


    "Magic," he said flatly. "Old magic. The kind that doesn''t leave fingerprints."


    He stepped aside and gestured to the diagram he''d drawn¡ªan awkward stick figure with little circles labeled things like , , and .


    "Now pay attention, because this is the only time I''m gonna explain this shit with visuals."


    I groaned, but nodded. Honestly, I wanted to understand. I to.


    Varkas tapped the first circle¡ªcentered inside the stick figure''s chest.


    "This is your Essence Core. Every living being''s got one. Animals, humans, elves, dwarves, even those creepy mushroom-people in the western swamps. Doesn''t matter who or what you are¡ªif you breathe, you''ve got Essence inside you. It''s the energy of life itself. The catch is, everyone''s pool is different."


    He tapped the next circle labeled .


    "Some people are born with massive reserves¡ªthink royalty, war veterans, Ascended bloodlines. Others get stuck with shallow puddles. But even a small core can grow."


    "How?" I asked, already leaning forward.


    "Five ways," he said, ticking them off on his fingers. "One¡ªtraining. Slow as shit, but reliable. Two¡ªEssence Crystals. Dangerous and expensive. Three¡ªcontracts with relics or spirits. Not recommended. Four¡ªexchanging with someone you trust. Rare. Risky. And five¡­" His eyes darkened slightly. "The fastest and bloodiest¡ªkilling Dark creatures."


    I swallowed. "They¡­ give you Essence?"


    "They bleed it when they die," he said. "Whatever made those things¡ªwhatever fuels them¡ªit''s twisted, corrupted Essence. But your core doesn''t care. You kill them, their power flows into you. If you survive the backlash, it sticks."


    I stared at the chalkboard.


    It all made terrifying sense.


    He pointed next to the arms of the figure, drawing arrows from the core outward.


    "Essence can flow in two directions¡ªinward, or outward. Inward Essence strengthens your body. Reflexes. Speed. Pain resistance. You ever heard of a kid lifting a wagon to save his brother?"


    I nodded slowly.


    "Essence spike. Happens all the time. Problem is, most people can''t control it consciously. That''s what we train. Controlled bursts. Battle instinct. Basically turning adrenaline into a weapon."


    Then he tapped the outward path, drawing messy shapes that vaguely resembled blades and fireballs.


    "External Essence is what most people think of as magic," Varkas repeated, his voice settling into a rhythm now. He wasn''t lecturing like a scholar; it was more like someone explaining how to clean blood off a blade after a fight¡ªcasual, experienced, and a little too vivid. "You convert your inner energy into a form¡ªFire, Water, Stone, Lightning, whatever your affinity leans toward. But everyone, and I mean , starts with this."


    He slammed the chalk into a large, plain circle labeled Pure Essence.


    "It''s the base material. Like uncut ore. It''s raw, colorless, formless Essence you can use for minor projections, shaping, reinforcing objects, or imbuing weapons. It''s also the cheapest to produce. Think of it as the wooden sword of magic¡ªbasic, clunky, but useful if you know what you''re doing."


    I leaned in, my eyes flicking between the ugly stick figure and Varkas''s hand.


    "Wait¡ªso why don''t people just use Pure Essence all the time if it''s so simple?"


    "Because most people are ," Varkas said bluntly, crossing his arms. "And because the world doesn''t reward efficiency¡ªit rewards spectacle. Fireballs look cooler. Lightning gets nobles laid. Hell, I knew a guy who only trained Ice spells so he could impress a merchant''s daughter. Lost both hands in a duel. Real tragic." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I wasn''t sure whether to laugh or be horrified.


    "But the smart ones?" he continued, jabbing the chalk at the board again. "They master Pure Essence before anything else. Learn how it flows, how to shape it. How to stretch it thin without weakening it, how to it when they need power. That''s what you''re going to learn."


    I blinked. "Just Pure Essence?"


    "For now, yeah," he said. "You''re sealed up like a pig in winter mud. We don''t have time to get fancy. Four weeks, remember? So we''ll keep your Essence usage ."


    He tapped the figure''s limbs now, drawing thin lines down to the fingers and legs.


    "See, every form of External Essence has variations. Even a basic fire spell can be shaped five, ten, twenty different ways depending on what school or system you follow. Some mages blast wide; others burn focused. You want a firebolt that costs three units of Essence? Fine. But someone trained in a leaner form might get the same effect with . That''s where technique comes in."


    He gave me a crooked grin.


    "We''re going to make you efficient as hell."


    "So there are schools?" I asked. "Systems? Techniques that make spells cost less?"


    "Yup," Varkas said. "Old traditions, battle-scarred instructors, secret guild manuals. Every culture, every mage family, every war band has their own way of shaping Essence. Some use hand signs. Others chant. Some link spells to rhythm or breath. Doesn''t matter. It''s all about reducing the . That''s what makes a real mage."


    He looked at me seriously for a moment.


    "If you overcast, kid¡ªif you push too much Essence out without enough reserve¡ªyou''ll collapse. Burn your veins. Crack your core. At worst? The backlash kills you. You''ll fry from the inside, screaming blood until your heart explodes."


    "¡­great."


    Varkas chuckled. "Welcome to magic."


    I sat back, trying to process everything. Essence as life-energy. Inward to enhance the body. Outward to create magic. Pure Essence as the fundamental form. And multiple paths, multiple styles, all optimized to reduce cost. But none of it mattered if I couldn''t even my full pool.


    "I can''t believe I''m only using five percent of my Essence," I muttered, more to myself than him.


    "Don''t worry," Varkas said, sliding a battered notebook across the table toward me. "We''re gonna milk every damn drop of that five percent. You''ll train harder than you''ve ever breathed. From now until that tournament."


    I hesitated. "Even if I''m sealed... what if I never get the rest back?"


    He didn''t answer right away.


    Instead, he uncorked a bottle¡ªwater, this time¡ªand took a long sip. Then he looked me dead in the eye, his voice quieter than before.


    "Then we make the five percent stronger than anyone else''s hundred."


    There was a long silence after that.


    I looked down at the notebook. Its leather cover was faded, scratched. The pages inside were stained with old ink, some ripped at the corners. But I could tell¡ªit was personal. It was his.


    "You sure?" I asked.


    "I''m not using it anymore," he said, waving me off. "And you need it more than I do. Everything in there helped me get into the Academy when I was your age. Back when I was still something."


    I opened it, flipping through pages filled with rough diagrams, spell notations, Essence drills, even journal entries. The handwriting was jagged but energetic. Driven. Hungry.


    A very different man had written this.


    I looked back up at Varkas, and something in my chest shifted. Just a little.


    "Thanks," I said quietly.


    He shrugged and stood up, brushing dust from his coat.


    "Don''t get sappy on me, kid. I''m not your dad. I''m not your friend. I''m just the drunk who''s gonna make sure you don''t die too early."


    Then he grinned.


    "¡­and maybe help you look slightly less like a terrified pigeon in front of the Academy examiners."


    I couldn''t help but laugh.


    He turned toward the creaky wooden stairs that led back up to the tavern.


    "Now get dressed," he said over his shoulder. "Lesson One starts in fifteen. Outside. Alley drills. You''re gonna learn how to breathe like a mage¡ªand run like your ass is on fire."


    And just like that, he disappeared upstairs, whistling off-key.


    I sat there for a moment, staring at the notebook in my hands.


    Twenty-eight days.Five percent power.A sealed reservoir.And a madman with a broken past training me with a half-full bottle and a whole lot of curses.


    I tightened my grip.


    "Let''s see what happens."


    The moment lingered¡ªquiet, full of something I hadn''t felt in a long time. Direction. Maybe even¡­ hope.


    Then¡ª


    BANG. BANG. BANG.


    The sudden pounding on the tavern''s back door sent both my heart and the notebook flying.


    "Varkas!" a muffled voice shouted from the alley. "We know you''re in there. Open up. Now."


    My eyes shot to the stairs, and within seconds, Varkas stormed back down them¡ªexpression flat, eyes sharp, movements precise. The old slouch was gone. The drunk was gone. This was someone else.


    "Academy scouts," he muttered, more annoyed than afraid.


    "How do they know¡ª?"


    "They don''t," he said. "Not yet."


    The banging came again¡ªlouder this time.


    "Varkas of the Reslau Academy! We need to speak to you. It''s urgent. About the Holy Essence flare."


    I felt cold.


    Varkas didn''t.


    He stepped past me, straightened his collar, and rolled his neck with a loud pop.


    "Well," he said, his voice dropping into something far more dangerous. "Looks like the warm-up''s over."


    He glanced back at me, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.


    "Then I guess it''s time to improvise."

 Chapter 45:Don’t Fall in Love, Kid

    The pounding on the door didn¡¯t stop.


    I could hear boots shifting outside, muffled voices, the cold edge of official urgency bleeding through the wood like a blade pressed against skin. My throat tightened.


    "Stay here," Varkas muttered, already halfway up the stairs. "Don¡¯t breathe too loud. Don¡¯t even fucking blink."


    He didn¡¯t wait for a response. The door creaked behind him. I heard it open.


    A pause.


    Then his voice, smooth and casual. "Well well, if it isn¡¯t the lapdogs in robes. Thought I smelled incense and disappointment."


    "Master Varkas," one of them said. His voice was tense. Respectful, but strained. "We sensed a flare. Holy Essence. Massive. Dangerous."


    "You think I don¡¯t know what comes outta my own hands?" Varkas chuckled, followed by the clink of a bottle. "Some thugs jumped a boy. Thought I¡¯d remind ¡®em why Ravegard¡¯s alleys still whisper my name."


    A beat of silence.


    "That¡¯s... within your jurisdiction, I suppose," the scout said reluctantly. "We¡¯ve heard rumors you still train occasionally."


    "Training? No. Teaching life lessons with divine fists of justice? Maybe."


    Another pause.


    "Was the boy hurt?"


    "No worse than his pride." S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The conversation ended shortly after. I didn¡¯t hear all the words, just the shift in tone. Whatever bluff Varkas had spun, it worked. The boots faded. The air lightened. Then the door slammed shut and heavy footsteps stomped back down into the room.


    He appeared at the bottom of the stairs, wiped sweat from his brow, and looked at me.


    "Well," he muttered, "guess we¡¯re officially on a clock."


    The days blurred.


    Not because they were easy, but because every hour dragged me through a different kind of hell. Varkas didn¡¯t believe in slow starts. I trained until my legs went numb, until my fingers blistered and bled, until sweat felt like blood and air like glass.


    He taught me how to hold a sword properly¡ªnot just how to swing it like some idiot with anger issues. Grip. Balance. Weight distribution. Where to place your feet on cobblestone. How to read momentum in someone else¡¯s shoulders before they even moved.


    The first few days, I dropped the wooden blade more than I held it.


    ¡°Wrong stance,¡± he¡¯d bark.


    ¡°Too stiff.¡±


    ¡°Too loose.¡±


    ¡°Too dumb.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t elegant. But slowly, my body adjusted. My movements stopped looking like a desperate flail. I stopped thinking so much. I started reacting.


    We moved from the sword into body conditioning¡ªwhere things got worse.


    "You¡¯ve got inner Essence," he said once, cracking his neck while tossing me a bruised apple. "You just don¡¯t know how to use it. So we¡¯ll start simple."


    Simple, in Varkas¡¯ language, meant jumping off rooftops.


    Or sprinting across market alleys with coins on the backs of my hands. Or dodging rocks he threw without warning. Sometimes while blindfolded. Once while being chased by a drunk dog with one eye and a limp.


    ¡°Inner Essence isn¡¯t just strength,¡± he¡¯d growl while I wheezed on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s awareness. Control. Reaction. You use it to sharpen what¡¯s already there.¡±


    By the end of the first week, I could jump higher than any normal person my size. My landings were tighter. I could move faster, think quicker, feel a threat before it happened.


    But that¡¯s when he introduced Pure Essence.


    We started with projection.


    "Push," he said, standing in front of a stack of old crates. "Visualize your Essence moving through your palm. Don¡¯t shape it. Don¡¯t name it. Just release."


    The first time, I felt nothing. The second, a mild tingle. By the fifth try, my fingers sparked¡ªand the crate shook.


    By the tenth?


    It shattered.


    I blinked, stunned.


    Varkas grinned. ¡°There we go. Hello, Pure Essence.¡±


    It was raw, unfiltered, and unstable. Not flashy like fire or cold like ice¡ªbut useful. With practice, I learned to use it to push things back. A blast from the palm. A shockwave from my foot. I even managed to imbue a stick with enough force to split stone.


    But controlling it was draining. Essence leaked too fast if I lost focus. Once, I nearly knocked myself out trying to project sideways and missed entirely, throwing myself into a wall.


    He laughed for five minutes straight.


    Around day twelve, something changed.


    I was running drills in the back alley, dodging makeshift dummies while deflecting thrown knives with a wooden blade laced with Essence. Varkas stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching with that annoying smirk.


    "You¡¯re ready," he said finally, as I collapsed near the barrels.


    "For what?" I panted.


    He didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, he tossed me a battered headband and pointed to the empty lot behind the tavern.


    ¡°We¡¯re sparring. Now.¡±


    Varkas stood a few meters away, spinning his wooden sword in lazy circles. He wore no armor, just his usual half-rotted robe and a crooked grin.


    Me? I was already sweating.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hold back,¡± he said, cracking his neck to one side. ¡°If I wanted a light workout, I¡¯d fight a chair.¡±


    I took a breath and centered myself. The Essence in my chest pulsed gently, like a slow heartbeat waiting for a command.


    This was it.


    All the bruises. All the drills. All the days I wanted to quit.


    Time to show him I¡¯d actually learned something.


    I moved first¡ªcharging in with a shoulder feint and slashing upward with my sword infused in Pure Essence. The air shimmered faintly as the energy laced through the wood, not quite glowing, but tangible, like static against skin.


    Varkas parried with one hand.


    One fucking hand.


    He didn¡¯t even budge.


    ¡°Nice. Sharp angle, but you¡¯re telegraphing your shoulders.¡±


    He swept his leg out.


    I jumped¡ªway higher than any normal person should.


    Essence surged in my thighs, and for a second, I felt weightless. My foot came down in a counter-kick, forcing him back a step.


    I landed, staggered, and immediately dashed to the left. He followed, expression unchanged, just calm focus.


    I twisted mid-run, focusing on the pulse in my hand¡ªchanneled Pure Essence in a sudden, wide push.


    A burst of force exploded from my palm, catching him in the chest.


    He slid back half a meter.


    That was all.


    Then he .


    ¡°Finally,¡± he said, loosening his shoulders. ¡°Let¡¯s see how long you last now.¡±


    He came at me like a ghost¡ªsilent, efficient, fast. His blade blurred. I blocked twice, barely, and ducked a third strike that would''ve taken my nose off.


    I activated inner Essence mid-roll, propelling myself into a sprinting spin to his flank. I raised my sword high and brought it down, all my energy behind it.


    He caught it.


    With his bare hand.


    ¡°Too slow,¡± he muttered.


    And then he kicked me square in the stomach.


    I hit the ground hard, gasping.


    He didn¡¯t move. Just stood there, hand bleeding slightly from the blade.


    I blinked at him through the pain, then laughed¡ªquiet, breathless.


    ¡°I got you to move.¡±


    He looked down at his hand. Blood trickled down his wrist.


    ¡°¡­Huh. Guess you did.¡±


    We didn¡¯t say much on the way to the Bitter Barrel. The streets of Ravegard were quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that didn''t come from peace, but exhaustion. The lanterns overhead flickered like they were trying to hold on a little longer, and puddles shimmered under them like tiny broken mirrors. I kept glancing at Varkas as we walked¡ªhe had his arms tucked into his ragged robe, his gaze distant, but not lost. He looked like a man who was still halfway in a fight, even if the opponent was long gone.


    Inside, the tavern was as I remembered: dim, warm, and heavy with the scent of alcohol, burnt wood, and stories that no one wanted to tell. A few drunks were slumped at the far end, half-listening to a bard strumming a single broken chord over and over again. Varkas muttered something to the bartender, who grunted and poured him his usual Dustburn. For me, just a cup of that cheap berry juice. I didn¡¯t ask for it. I didn¡¯t need to. At this point, they probably knew I wasn¡¯t drinking anything that came with regret built in.


    We found our usual spot in the corner, near the window with the cracked glass. The streetlight outside cast soft golden lines across the table between us, catching the dust in the air. Varkas leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs, and raised his drink with a crooked grin that didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    ¡°To surviving hell,¡± he said.


    I clinked my glass against his. ¡°Barely.¡±


    I took a sip. It was too sweet, like someone had tried to cover up the sour underneath with fake cheer. Fitting, I guess. Across from me, Varkas drank slow, eyes closing for a moment, like the burn was something he needed to feel. He lowered the glass and gave me a long look, the kind that didn¡¯t judge, but peeled a bit deeper than I wanted.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting better,¡± he said after a pause. ¡°Almost like you don¡¯t completely suck anymore.¡±


    I gave him a tired smile. ¡°That the nicest thing you¡¯ve ever said to me?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get used to it.¡±


    His voice was light, but his posture wasn¡¯t. There was a tension in his shoulders, in the way his fingers tapped the glass rhythmically, like he was trying to keep a beat only he could hear. I watched him for a moment. Something was on his mind. It had been since the fight. Since I landed that one hit that made him actually bleed.


    ¡°You always dodge the question,¡± I said, quietly. ¡°About the Academy. About¡­ what happened. You said you¡¯d tell me. One day.¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer right away. Just turned his glass slowly, staring into it like it might change what was inside.


    ¡°You really wanna know?¡± he said finally, voice quieter than before.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I do.¡±


    He leaned back a little, exhaled through his nose, then gave this bitter half-smile like he knew I¡¯d say that. But instead of answering, he shifted forward again and looked me dead in the eye, his fingers steepling together in front of his mouth like he was about to give a sermon.


    ¡°Before I tell you,¡± he said, ¡°I need to know something first. And don¡¯t lie.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Okay?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever been in love?¡±


    The question hit harder than it should¡¯ve. I didn¡¯t know what to say at first. Part of me wanted to laugh¡ªbecause how the hell was that relevant? But the look in his eyes made it clear this wasn¡¯t just some casual tavern talk.


    I looked away, letting my fingers trace the rim of the glass. What did it even mean, to be in love? Honestly, I don¡¯t think I ever really was. Not back then. Not during the first years of school, when I fell for every girl who smiled at me for more than three seconds. If someone showed me basic kindness, I convinced myself it meant something. That I mattered. That I wasn¡¯t invisible. I used to get obsessed with people who didn¡¯t even know I existed. I thought that was love.


    But then¡­ Carmen.


    She didn¡¯t look at me like I was broken. She didn¡¯t treat me like I was a burden. She argued with me, mocked me, challenged me in ways I wasn¡¯t ready for. I hated how she saw through all my bullshit. And I think that¡¯s why I started needing her around. Not because she made me feel better¡ªbut because she made me feel¡­ real.


    When she kissed Nikita, I didn¡¯t explode or scream. I just felt something collapse inside. Something quiet. Something final. I wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn¡¯t with me. I still do. And maybe that¡¯s the closest thing I¡¯ve felt to love.


    ¡°¡­Yeah,¡± I said at last, still not looking at him. ¡°I think I have.¡±


    He didn¡¯t speak right away. Just looked at me with a strange expression¡ªhalf curious, half... almost sorry.


    ¡°Did she love you back?¡± he asked, voice low and even.


    I hesitated.


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Not like that.¡±


    Varkas let out a quiet breath through his nose, and a small, crooked smile twitched at the edge of his lips. Not mocking¡ªjust tired.


    ¡°Then yeah,¡± he muttered. ¡°You¡¯ve been in love.¡±


    He leaned back in the creaking wooden booth, the light from the lantern above catching the shadows under his eyes. He stared up for a moment, like something on the ceiling might distract him from whatever thought just clawed its way into his head. Then he took his glass again, not rushing it this time, and rolled the contents in slow, lazy circles before finally taking a long drink. His throat moved, his jaw clenched, and when he set the cup down, he kept his hand on it like it might run off if he let go.


    ¡°Love¡¯s dangerous, Aleks,¡± he said finally. ¡°Not in the romantic way. Not in that pretty, storybook shit they write songs about.¡±


    His fingers tapped the wood once¡ªtwice. He wasn¡¯t looking at me now. Just the table.


    ¡°It digs in when you''re not looking. Makes you think you¡¯re better. Like maybe, just maybe, you¡¯re worth something. And then it rips everything out from under you the second you start to believe it.¡±


    His voice didn¡¯t waver. But something in his face did. His shoulders had sunk a little. His fingers had stopped tapping. His grip around the glass had tightened so subtly, you¡¯d miss it if you weren¡¯t watching for the cracks.


    ¡°I gave everything to become someone. Power. Status. Respect. And when I had it all, when I thought I was finally standing at the top¡­¡±


    He exhaled, slow and heavy.


    ¡°¡­it was love that kicked the ladder out from under me.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to say.


    He turned his head, looked at me. Really looked. The grin was gone. What replaced it wasn¡¯t anger or regret. It was something heavier¡ªlike the ghost of a wound that never fully closed.


    ¡°You wanted the truth?¡± he said, his voice now rougher, but quieter.


    His hand slid off the glass.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll tell you. All of it.¡±


    He leaned forward into the flickering light, and for a moment I could see it¡ªbehind the age, the alcohol, the layers of filth and bitterness¡ªthe shadow of the man he used to be. The weight of brilliance warped by betrayal.


    ¡°Listen close, Aleks,¡± he said. ¡°Because this¡­ is the story of how I let love ruin me. And how everything else burned down with it.¡±