ã€ŠCameraman Never Diesã€‹


 Chapter 1 A Toast to Friendship, With a Side of Poison

    Min Jae sat in his sleek office, a framed family photo resting in his lap, staring at him like it had a running joke he wasn''t in on. The red-haired man and blue-haired woman in the picture smiled lovingly, clutching the hands of a little red-haired boy¡ªMin, when he still thought the world was a place where bedtime stories ended happily and cereal didn''t have expiration dates.Now, as he looked at the cheerful faces, he couldn''t help but chuckle. "You really had no idea what was coming, huh?" His smile crept wider, taking on that slightly unhinged curve he''d perfected over the years. The kind of grin that made legal departments nervous.

    He tilted his head, his red hair swaying to the left as he gently caressed the frame, his thumb tracing the faces of his parents. "Mom... Dad..." he whispered, eyes drifting to the panoramic city view spread out below him like an ant farm¡ªan expensive, morally dubious ant farm.

    "I finally made it big," he said, his grin growing. "Me and Jun... all our hard work... it paid off." He let out a soft, satisfied sigh. "And the people who poisoned you? Let''s just say they''re enjoying a vacation." He paused for effect, leaning closer to the photo as if sharing an inside joke.

    "A permanent vacation."

    He snorted at his own line. What? Even revenge needed flair. His expression softened for a second, a flicker of something resembling nostalgia crossing his face before the mask of confidence slipped back into place. He stood and approached the glass wall, staring down at the glittering city below. It was all his now.

    The wealth, the power, the ability to fire people for no reason other than their shoes offended him.

    Yet there was that small voice in the back of his head, the one that whispered things like, Would your parents be proud of this? and Are you really gonna wear those shoes with that suit? He ignored it, naturally. That voice hadn''t helped him climb to the top, nor had it kept him from turning into someone who occasionally Googled "how to cry without messing up your hair."

    "I wish you could see me now," he murmured, his voice low. "But let''s face it, if you were still here, I''d probably be... I dunno, paying taxes and not running a semi-legal empire built on revenge." He sighed dramatically, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. The weight of success mixed with loss clung to him like an email from an ex titled We need to talk.

    His eyes prickled with unshed tears, but Min Jae wasn''t about to cry. He hadn''t cried since his parents died, and he certainly wasn''t going to start now, when his suit cost more than his therapist''s hourly rate. Tears were for people with regrets¡ªand he didn''t have any. Well, except maybe one or two wardrobe choices.

    On the small tea table beside him, a bottle of wine waited patiently, like an overeager party guest. Seo Jun, his only friend and fellow revenge enthusiast, had given him the bottle earlier. A celebration gift. The final paperwork was done; they''d secured their status as two of the wealthiest men in the country.

    Revenge was complete, and what better way to toast it than with an expensive Cabernet Sauvignon?

    Min Jae hesitated. Wine. His parents had died because of wine, poisoned by people they trusted. He''d avoided the stuff ever since, partly out of respect for their memory and partly because he wasn''t keen on drinking something that screamed, Hey, remember that time your parents got murdered?

    But this bottle... it was from Jun. The one person he trusted. Surely, the universe wouldn''t be that cruel. Again. Right?

    Right?

    "Jun wouldn''t poison me," Min muttered to himself. "I mean, sure, we''ve done some questionable things together, but we''re not that dramatic." He paused, reconsidering. "Okay, we are, but still."

    He grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass, watching the dark red liquid swirl like something ominous and probably metaphorical. The wine smelled rich¡ªblack cherries, earth, tobacco... and, was that a hint of cedar? Fancy. He took a sniff, because that''s what people do with wine apparently. He wasn''t much of a connoisseur; his idea of fine dining involved ordering extra fries.

    After inhaling deeply, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. It hit him with a burst of flavor¡ªblackberries, plums, and something spicy, like black pepper. For a second, he thought, Wow, maybe revenge wasn''t such a bad life choice after all. But then the warmth that should have been comforting twisted. His smile faded.

    Wait. Why did it feel like his insides had just received an email titled You''re Screwed? The warmth spread, sharp and fast, like an accidental text to your boss complaining about your boss. His heartbeat picked up, fast and heavy. The glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor in slow motion, staining the pristine white carpet with dramatic splatters of wine.

    "Of course," Min groaned as he clutched his chest, dropping to his knees. "This would happen to me. My life''s just one bad plot twist after another."

    The realization hit him like a frying pan in a slapstick comedy: He''d been poisoned. Again. Because apparently, life really loved re-runs. "No way," he muttered, trying to move but finding his muscles locking up, betrayal tightening around him like that time he wore a belt three sizes too small. "It couldn''t be Jun... right?"

    Seo Jun. His best friend. The only person who hadn''t backstabbed him yet. Unless, of course, this was Jun backstabbing him. In which case, it was impressive, really. Min groaned again, trying to process the fact that his only friend might have just turned him into a dramatic villain clich¨¦.

    Great, now I''m the guy who gets betrayed by his partner.

    Just then, Seo Jun burst into the room, his face a mixture of panic and confusion, like someone who''d just walked in on an unexpected live-action soap opera. He was saying something¡ªprobably an apology or something poetic¡ªbut Min couldn''t hear him. His world was fading to black, like the end credits of a film no one wanted to see.

    "Seo Jun... you son of a..." Min choked out, his lips curling into what could only be described as a sarcastic smirk. "If you wanted my half, you could''ve just asked. Good luck running this empire without me. Hope you choke on it."

    His mind, once filled with spreadsheets and revenge plots, was now crammed with the fear of the unknown¡ªlike opening an email with the subject line We Need to Talk. He hated that subject line. It never meant anything good.

    His pain started to ebb away as he closed his eyes, the chilling numbness overtaking the fire in his veins. There was nothing now¡ªno sound, no feeling, no taste. Just darkness. And, in the final moments before he blacked out, memories began to flicker through his mind like the world''s most awkward slideshow.

    His mother''s laughter, his father''s smile, and that time his mother''s nanny accidentally poisoned her¡ªfunny, it had been a real hit at family gatherings. His dad''s death replayed itself, courtesy of a ''childhood friend'' who apparently took friendship goals way too seriously. And then, of course, there was his own death. Because why not?

    "Well," he thought, "this is dramatic enough for a TikTok. Maybe I should''ve just gone into knitting instead of world domination."

    And then¡ªnothing.

    [A very dramatic death later]

    Min Jae got up and sat upright, he stared blankly at the void in front of him, as if he was waiting for the next plot twist. He looked around to see that he was lying on a vast, dark, rough, and uneven plain, he touched the ground, and he could feel sand, but surprisingly, none got on his hands, defying both physics and every beach vacation he''d ever taken.

    There was a big blue moon on one side, and a bright white light was emerging from behind it.

    Suddenly! a thick grey fog began appearing in a small cluster on the vast plain between him and the moon. Because of course, there has to be fog in an afterlife scene. He couldn''t see through the fog but knew something, or someone was inside it.

    Soon the grey fog dissipated, revealing a grand throne, it was made of stone and etched with patterns of gold and a shiny golden wing on each side, probably taken from Pinterest, a blue and red scarf was on the backrest, adding color to an otherwise 49-shades-of-gray1 throne, he got up and walked towards the throne.

    A blue light began to shine on top of the throne, slowly descending towards the seat, as if it were about to deliver a very important PowerPoint presentation. It flashed as soon as it hit the throne, revealing a woman in a white tunic and blue hair that looked suspiciously well-conditioned for someone who lived in a foggy afterlife.

    Min just had to take a glance at the figure as he immediately recognized the face of the being, who now sat on the throne, he stopped in his tracks. "Mom?" He looked at her, confused.

    "No, I am not your mother" The being gave a subtle smile and tilted her head, as if to reassure him and put him at ease, "I only took her form as she is the most influential person to you in your memories." She had his mother''s voice.

    "Who are you?" Min was pissed at the deity for taking his mother''s form to talk to him.

    She paused and continued, she put her hand on her chest as she introduced herself "I am the deity of stories... And I offer you an accord"

    "So?" Min masked his uneasiness with an act of bravado, "What is your offer?" He wanted to reject her out of principle, but something told him that wasn''t an option in this particular customer service call.

    "You have to work as someone who will record stories from the new world you are sent to."

    She lifted her right hand and a small cluster of grey fog began to appear, of course, the fog, is it on clearance in the afterlife? The fog revealed a plain white mask with a smiley face on it. And she continued to speak by holding the mask forward, "So the title of the said job is... Cameraman."

    "Cameraman? Like..... do I shoot movies or something" Min was now really confused, his tough acting was now faltering like a badly-fitted outfit, his initial distrust now turning into curiosity.

    "As I said, record stories that are happening or create them on your own, I don''t care how or what you do as long as I get the stories. Of course, I will provide you with some necessary skills needed."

    "What''s in it for me, doesn''t that make up a one-sided offer? Even if you provide me with skills, after all, it is only for your sake." He raised an eye at her, while he was indeed curious, he could not put his trust in another being.

    "No, it is not one-sided," She tried to defend herself, still with a smile, she continued, "because in the world you will be sent to... You will be born as a son of your previous life''s parents." She gave a pleased smile, she knew he was never rejecting her after that.

    He looked at the mask she was holding forward, the offer was too tempting to decline. "Ok tell me about the job" He admitted his defeat and proceeded to take the mask from her. "And also tell me more of the world I will be going."

    "Oh, you will have plenty of time to learn of your world" She laughed and allowed him to take the white mask she was holding. "This mask will be the gate between you being the new you and you being the cameraman you," She looked at him seriously, but her smile never faded. "Keep in mind that you are also a part of the story while you are not wearing that mask."

    "Now... without further ado" She waved her hand and nine scrolls made of silk appeared in front of him in three rows, with gold embroidered patterns on each edge and letters written with threads. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Take one from each row, those are your choices for the skills I will provide you with." She laid on her throne as she said that, knowing full well that this would take a long time, this was not her first time doing it.

 Chapter 2 Ether, Psyche, and Other Things You Cant Google

    Min Jae scanned the mystical scrolls in front of him, squinting like a grandpa trying to read the fine print on a prescription bottle. These scrolls would bestow upon him the powers he needed for his new gig as "The Cameraman," a title that sounded like he should be working on a low-budget documentary rather than manipulating reality and filming it like a terrorist magician on crack. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.With a lot of careful consideration and a sigh that echoed like a deflating balloon, he picked the first scroll and tossed aside the others from the top row with the grace of someone discarding takeout menus.

    His first rejected option, "Creator''s Supremacy," was supposed to make him more powerful than the most powerful person in any situation. Sounded great until Min realized it came with more strings attached than a marionette at a puppet show. For one, he had no clue what the power system in his new world was like. Was it powered by magic? Biceps? The number of cats you owned?

    Plus, in a group fight with opponents of equal strength, he''d just be a little stronger than the strongest person, which was about as useful as a sword in a gunfight. Nope, next!

    The second option was ''Edit'', which let him mess with the minds of up to five people at a time, making them hallucinate or forget things. But it had a nasty little catch: people with strong mental strength, or ''psyche'', would just laugh it off like a bad joke. Min thought, "Great, so I can mess with the village idiot but not the evil mastermind. Pass!"

    "Hey, Story God!" Min called out to the deity who was lying on the throne,

    "What? Have you finally decided, or are you just here to waste more of my popcorn?" the deity replied, looking utterly bored as she shoved another handful of imaginary popcorn into her mouth.

    "Also, I''m not a God," she corrected, wiping invisible butter from her lips. "God is like, way above me. I''m more like the underpaid, no... unpaid, overworked higher manager of the divine bureaucracy." She said this with a level of self-awareness that almost made Min feel sorry for her. Key word, ''Almost''.

    Min had about a thousand questions after that little revelation, but he decided to shelve them for now. There was only so much existential crisis one could handle before lunch, or breakfast since he died in midnight. "I just wanted to know more about ''Psyche,'' because, you know, that could be important."

    The deity rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn''t roll right out of her head. "Psyche is your mental strength, like your brain''s CPU. The better it is, the better you can handle magic. But if it''s overloaded, you''ll be stuck like a computer trying to run an 8K video on dial-up, but way more dangerous because... you know...

    it''s in your brain." She pointed a finger at her brain like she was explaining it to a 5 year old.

    "And by the way," she continued, rolling her eyes again like a teenager explaining why Wi-Fi is important, "Mana from your world, is more fancied as Ether here, and is also needed in magic. Which in your new world, we call it EtherCraft because we''re more fancier like that." She sighed dramatically, as if even explaining this was beneath her job description.

    Min nodded sagely, pretending to understand everything, which he didn''t. But at least now he could make a somewhat informed decision. "Alright, I''ll take Studio, Scriptwriter, and Enhanced Cognition," he declared, picking his scrolls with all the confidence of someone choosing toppings for a pizza.

    The skills he didn''t choose in the middle row were ''Spotlight'' and ''Plot Armor''. Spotlight sounded like a great way to be the life of any party, by making sure no one else was, or make anyone else the star. But it was limited to ''where the scenario allows'', which was vague enough to make Min nervous.

    Plot Armor, on the other hand, was like giving someone else an extra life in a video game, but again, with limitations. Min wasn''t about to hand out invincibility like party favors.

    So, he chose ''Scriptwriter'' because, let''s face it, controlling people''s actions like a puppeteer sounded way more fun than being a glorified spotlight operator.

    And for the bottom row? The choice was obvious. Enhanced Cognition was the big-brainer (pun totally intended). After all, having a fast brain that he could turn on and off at will sounded like the ultimate cheat code. Plus, who wouldn''t want to speed up their cognitive abilities without worrying about frying their brain like an overworked laptop? And he could even comprehend and store more info?

    Sweet.

    With his final choices made, Min turned to the deity, who looked like she had finally run out of popcorn. "Yeah, I choose these as my final skills," he announced, puffing up his chest like he had just solved world hunger.

    The deity, still lying on the throne, waved her hand, and the rejected scrolls vanished like they''d been sent to the magical equivalent of a recycling bin. "You sure took your sweet time," she said mockingly, though her smile was starting to get on Min''s nerves. He kept his mouth shut, because, let''s be real, arguing with a divine being, even a self-proclaimed underling, never ends well.

    "Double check to make sure you picked the right thing," she said, her voice suddenly serious, as if they were now discussing nuclear launch codes. "Once you choose, there''s no going back."

    Min gave the scrolls a once-over, triple-checking like a guy trying to avoid the dreaded "Are you sure you want to delete this file?" mistake. His first choice, ''Studio'', was all about creating his own personal alternate dimension¡ªa Workspace where he could do whatever he wanted, even alter his own body. The only catch? He couldn''t actually attack anyone who he summoned into his Studio. Bummer.

    Of course, he could still attack them by his own strength, but studio can at most, confine them.

    His second choice, ''Scriptwriter,'' allowed him to create contracts that people had to follow like actors in his written script. The downside? They had to agree to it first, which could be a bit of a snag. But he figured he could work his charm when needed.

    Finally, he chose ''Enhanced Cognition'', because having the mental prowess of a supercomputer with the ability to turn it on and off sounded like a dream come true. The other two options, ''Ether Talent'' and ''Psyche Talent,'' sounded cool, but they weren''t quite as versatile as a brain that could practically calculate the meaning of life before breakfast.

    "Yeah, I''m sticking with these," Min said, standing in a tall pose like he''d just won the lottery.

    "Good for you," the deity said with the enthusiasm of someone who had just been handed a tax audit, yes without any enthusiasm.

    "Now, let''s get down to the details you may never come across. First, your title as ''The Cameraman'' comes with a quirk - ''Cameraman Never Dies'', It just means that you won''t die while you are in your cameraman form. But don''t get cocky, because you''re not immortal. You can still get hurt, like, a lot.

    Also, there are two other Cameramens to be sent, and you''re ''The'' Cameraman because, well, you were first. Just don''t worry about them betraying you, because they can''t, it''s company policy."

    Min frowned, thinking about how he''d rather not have coworkers, especially in a job that involved interdimensional reality TV. But before he could complain, the deity dropped another bombshell.

    "Oh, and one more thing," she added, her tone suddenly serious. "Remember when I said God is a being above me? Well, there are pretty powerful beings who call themselves gods in your world, they are still below me, just so you are not confused. And you can become one of the self-proclaimed gods in your new world if you play your cards right."

    "Wait, what?" Min''s jaw nearly hit the floor, but before he could process that info dump, the ground beneath him cracked open like a poorly baked cake. He plummeted into darkness with all the grace of a cat being shoved into a bath.

    [A Ridiculously Dramatic Birth Later]1

    Min''s first experience in his new life was a blinding light that hurt his eyes and made him want to crawl back into wherever he''d just come from. His ears picked up the sound of happy chatter and crying, which was annoying because he wasn''t the one doing it. And then, bam! Something soft and fluffy hit his mouth and a fluid came through. The taste was... familiar?

    "Milk? Seriously?" Min thought, barely able to open his eyes. "What am I, a baby? Oh, wait..."

    The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, this time, there were at least three volumes of ''How to understand women'': he was, indeed, a baby again. His first meal in this new world was warm, creamy, and humiliating.

    But at least it was better than the poison that had killed him the last time. So, he gulped it down like an adult bodybuilder crazy for protein, preparing for whatever ridiculousness awaited him in this bizarre new life.

 Chapter 3 World domination 101: Learn the language

    The reincarnated kid opened his eyes to see his new world, but all he got was a dark room, the bright lights were all gone, replaced by a dim, blue moonlight coming in through the window, like a creepy moonlight that plans to hit your eyes right when you decide to sleep.It was dim due to the curtains, but he could still see his surroundings, he tried to get up, but then realized he was just a newborn.

    The baby looked around, the room had a Victorian era aesthetic. The first thing he noticed was the enormous brass chandelier above him, it held gray stones which were inside a curved brass holding.

    He looked to the side there was a portrait of a beautiful, blue-haired lady, he instantly recognized the person in the portrait. It was his mother, his heart started to beat faster and tears started to swell as he realized that he had gotten back together with his family. "Yup, this is my life now. Crying because I miss my mom. Crying because I found my mom. Crying because...

    I don''t know, I''m a baby!"

    He looked at the other portraits present, there was one of a man with red hair, it was his father, ''both of them look just like before'', he thought. But the next frame caught him off guard, it was a picture of his family, his mother was sitting on a chair, while his father was standing next to her. His problem was with the two children standing in between them, a girl and a boy.

    The girls had red hair while the boy had blue, life never stopped giving him plot twists, they were clearly his siblings, "Since, when did I agree to share parents?". He was never going to share his precious parents with anyone, ''Alright'' He decided ''I should only trust my parents and no one else, and certainly not Seo Jun 2.0''.

    His drift of thoughts was interrupted when a gust of wind blew through the open window, letting more light in. His eyes lit in disbelief as he saw the chandelier again, it was not brass, but gold. How rich was his family? He wondered if he could crawl on a pile of cash soon.

    He decided to sleep, but sleep had other plans, it went out for a little trip that would then turn into a father''s quest to find the perfect milk. And just when he thought of just closing his eyes until he could sleep, he noticed his mom - his mom! - was sleeping next to him, talk about co-op with your best bud, that''s when you know you are gonna enjoy it.

    Soon, morning came, and though he did not get enough sleep, his head was very clear. His throat was as dry as the Sahara and needed some water, he did what any clear-headed person would do, he cried. Of course, what did you expect of a baby? Text? sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After filling his empty belly, he had enough strength to plan for world domination, well... as soon as he figured out how to roll over. He decided to try out his newfound skills. He could only try one while he was a baby, it was enhanced cognition, because going to another dimension or writing up an acting contract are not exactly expected of newborn children.

    He decided to activate it and did not notice any change, he was surprised, since he should be seeing everything in slow motion, he thought deeply as to what went wrong, did it not fully activate? did he need a ritual or something? Did the deity just scam him? ''I knew it, I shouldn''t have trusted anybody''. He would given a 1-star on Yelp if he had a mobile... and internet.

    He soon found out what went wrong, nothing was moving in front of his eyes for him to see it in slow motion. "Of course, you idiot, how''s anything supposed to go slow-mo if everyone''s just standing around?!" Clearly, his base cognitive skills needed a tune-up.

    He looked over to see his mother knitting something, he could see faint ether particles around whatever she was making. He activated his enhanced cognition again, and this time, it activated without flaw. His mother''s knitting turned slow, like it was a TV ad for extreme knitting, even her getting up from the seat was slow, even her growing slowly in size. Wait... Growing in size?

    Oh wait she was just coming near him, what a relief, the last thing he wanted was for his mother to be a giant. she grabbed him in his arms and spoke in a foreign tongue. It was not an exaggeration to say that he understood nothing, but he was still happy to see his mother, so he gave her the biggest smile he could muster.

    It was quite the task, but it was all worth it to see his mother''s happy smile, one that he hadn''t seen for so long. His mother spoke something in a foreign language again, but not to him but to someone outside the big, wooden ornate door with patterns made of gold, that he failed to notice the previous night, soon some maids came in and one took him in her arms.

    The maids wore red clothes with a light golden bodice, they wore a white apron without a speck of dirt or any other spots. Their hair was tied up to make a braided bun hairstyle. And he found something shocking on their head, behind the headwear, they had two symmetrical horns, though they were small. "Halloween?" He thought "Don''t think so" the setting was too formal.

    "Hey what are you doing," He was getting angry at the maid for taking him away from his mother and could not think much of the horns, "Give me back to mother this instance." That was what he wanted to say, but all he heard was a child cry. The child being him, obviously.

    He heard one of the maids say something to his mother and everyone in the room chuckled. He looked around to see that he was being taken to a small tub of water, the maid took off all his baby clothes and dipped him in the water to bathe him, he felt as if he was being baptized for a crime he didn''t commit, though he was an unknown criminal in his previous life.

    If only there was someone to record his glorious life.

    After a thorough cleaning, man the maids didn''t leave a single spot, he was put into his new baby clothes. He felt like a baby that was being taken care of, wait! He was a baby that was being taken care of.

    His mother held him up in her arms and hugged him, she was still saying something but he could not understand, that when his dumb brain began functioning and thought of the enhanced cognition that the deity gifted him.

    He turned on the enhanced cognition and waited for them to speak, but he understood nothing, "I really hope this language barrier isn''t permanent." And they all went silent, "Nice timing, world."

    His mother took him in her arms and decided to breastfeed, but as a grown man, he had to reject it, but that is, if was a grown man of course. He was a baby now, so he took it without much thought.

    He slipped into sleep as if his previous sleepless night was catching up, he deactivated his enhanced cognition, and soon heard a light chatter as he fell into sleep, wondering if they were silent till now on purpose.

    [A dramatic sleep later]1

    He woke up to an annoying scene, a red haired wench was rubbing her cheeks against his. The wench being his one and only sister that he decided not to trust, and also his untrustworthy, blue haired brother was standing beside her.

    Like a professional baby self-defense instructor, he let out a cry, and immediately turned on his enhanced cognition to understand at least something from a conversation that he was not so sure of occurring.

    His mother said something to the girl, as he expected, he understood nothing, and he was not proud of it either. But he heard just one thing clearly, ''Amber''. He instantly understood that it was her name.

    His mother called another name, ''Liam''. The blue haired boy came near him and started to caress his hair... Hair? How come a newborn has hair, his thoughts instantly went to the maids with horns.

    He could draw many conclusions, and two of them stood out. One was that, in the world he was born in, children in this world are normally born with hair and the maids are a separate species serving under his family.

    His second conclusion was that they were not human, but another species where children are born with hair. This one sounded less plausible since his mother and sibling did not have horns, while he was not very thrilled with the idea of being another species, he couldn''t hide his curiosity.

    That thought ended in seconds with his supercomputer brain, and with nothing else to do... he started to cry. His mother came to him while talking to Liam, who took his caressing hand away and walked towards the door after nodding.

    His mother took him in her arms again and started to speak in a loving voice, though again, he understood nothing. He activated his cognition skill to grasp at least something of whatever she was saying, and he heard one thing - Judge, his name.

 Chapter 4 Seriously! Whats up with the horns?

    Judge opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep in his mother''s arms again, he''d been sleeping a lot lately. As if sleep was afraid that he would cheat on it. The little children who were sharing his parents were nowhere to be found.Today was the day Judge would begin his grand plan. Step one? Establish dominance. And what better way to start than with the very basics: eating, sleeping, and screaming at anyone who dared interrupt either activity. Though there was no one he could scream at.

    But first, he needed to learn more about his surroundings. His family was obviously rich, like ridiculously rich. The kind of rich that made him wonder if the chandelier was an heirloom or just casually picked up during a shopping spree.

    The Victorian-style room, the ornate furniture, and those darn golden accents on everything were like screaming, "Welcome to your new life of luxury, little overlord!"

    His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the morning disturbance¡ªa group of maids, all wearing the same red and gold attire as yesterday. Their horns were slightly less alarming now, but Judge was still cautious. He wasn''t quite ready to trust them yet. After all, trust is earned, not given, and he had seen far too many betrayals in his past life to be naive about this one.

    One of the maids approached him with what looked like an absurdly plush towel. She was smiling in that way adults do when they''re about to do something you absolutely hate but they think is adorable. Judge''s instincts were on high alert¡ªhe knew what was coming.

    "Bath time," the maid cooed, reaching for him. He was starting to understand a few commonly used words, at least the words commonly used around him.

    He let out a cry that could rival a baby... yeah it was not much to write home about. It was a strategic move though, a well-placed strike in his ongoing battle to assert dominance. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Instead of scaring the maid away, she giggled and said something in that indecipherable language that was quickly becoming his mortal enemy.

    Judge quickly turned on his enhanced cognition, hoping to decipher something, anything. But the only thing he managed to figure out was that "bath" that he had already gotten from his previous attempts

    Without being able to put up much resistance, he allowed the maids to baptize him, in the golden ornate baby bathtub. He still couldn''t get over the gold ornate home decor that was everywhere. It was like they went to see an internal decor expert and he suggested they just put up gold wherever they want, cause they can.

    After the bath, which, despite his earlier protests, was actually quite relaxing¡ªJudge was dressed in a fresh set of baby clothes that were now his own set of royal robes. He took a mental note: Even if I''m stuck as a baby, at least I''m a stylish one. Thanks, money!

    Once he was back in his crib, Judge began his next mission: deciphering the family dynamics. It was clear that his new mother was deeply attached to him, which was a huge relief. He would need her on his side if he was going to navigate this world. His father, on the other hand, had yet to make an appearance. And then there were the siblings¡ªAmber and Liam, as he had overheard from his mother.

    He wasn''t sure what to make of them just yet.

    Amber, with her red hair and overly affectionate nature, seemed like the type who could become either a strong ally or a formidable opponent. Judge wasn''t taking any chances. He needed to keep a close eye on her, maybe write up a contract to keep her in check.

    As for Liam, the blue-haired brother, he seemed more reserved, almost cautious. Judge could respect that. He acted like a two year old, which judge supposed he was, and judge was not going to trust someone just because they were only born two years prior.

    As the day wore on, Judge tried to wanted to try activating his Scriptwriter ability, but to no avail. It seemed that creating contracts was a bit out of reach for a baby who couldn''t even hold a pen. He made a mental note to revisit that once his motor skills caught up with his scheming.

    For now, Judge focused on honing his enhanced cognition. Every sound, every movement, every word spoken in that foreign tongue was analyzed, categorized, and stored away in his rapidly developing brain. It wouldn''t be long before he cracked the code of this language and could start making real progress.

    Soon evening approached and he woke up from his sleep again, seems sleep never intended to leave him alone, but it went on a trip across the whole of Asia when he actually needed it. He swore to make a court for people negatively affected by sleep if it was possible.

    He looked over to his left and saw his mother, who was reading a book, she was glancing at him every now and then. Once she noticed that he was awake, she put the book away and came towards him, once she was close, she called a maid and said something to her.

    The maid came close to his crib and took Judge in her arms and began to undress him, caught by surprise, Judge could do nothing but cry. Why was he, as a grown man inside, crying? He felt crying as a natural response to anything he didn''t like, is this how babies always feel?

    His anger quickly turned into humiliation as he understood, why he was getting undressed. He had pooped in his expensive baby clothes. He bit down his humiliation as he allowed the maid to wash his bum and change his clothes. He could almost hear the deity who''d sent him here laughing.

    He was put onto his mother''s bed as good as new. As a matter of fact, he was indeed new, just a few days old. even an idiot would know that he was new. He had once been a powerful man, feared and respected. Now, here he was, reduced to a whimpering infant who couldn''t even control his own bowels.

    He decided that he needed to do something in order to learn the language as quickly as possible. After all, how could he conquer the world without even being able to order a steampunk cheese pizza?

    Just then his mother ordered the maid standing beside her something and the maid hurried out. "Good job, Mom! You knew I wanted to be alone with you." Judge cheered for his mother, though he couldn''t understand what she said, he still cheered for her.

    Let''s say what he did was a mistake of misunderstanding, the maid came back. This time, with something square and golden in her arms. Of course, why wouldn''t it be golden? He never once thought in his life that he was going to get tired of seeing gold.

    Judge watched in growing disbelief as his mother took the golden object and opened it. "A golden book? Seriously? What kind of family spends this much on a children''s book? How rich are we?" Judge mused. All of his amazement from seeing all of the gold was gone and was replaced with disbelief.

    He had thought it might be some kind of heirloom, a treasure passed down through generations. But no, it was just a storybook. And a very shiny one at that.

    Even the pages were made of gold, He tried to imagine the kind of person who would think, "Hey, let''s make a children''s book out of gold!" and failed miserably. He had clearly underestimated his family''s ''Passion'' for extravagance.

    His mother started to read the book, but all he heard was a lullaby that was making his head dizzy, like he just had a dozen of sleeping pills¡ª however, this was not unhealthy. Though he did not understand the language, he understood that his mother was using ether to put him to sleep, but he didn''t hate the idea as the lullaby was just too sweet, like an opera where the money was worth your time. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Just then, the golden ornate door burst open, making his tiny heart almost jump out to see the intruder, but his ribs ensured its secure placement. A red-haired man stood at the room''s entrance, his mother happily said something to the intruder.

    But this was anything but happy, the guy was covered in blood and had a sword on his waist. And he even had two horns on his head. It was different from the maids, this one came in red.

    As the figure got closer, judge''s initial suspicions turned to dust as he understood the figure¡ªit was his father. But why was he covered in blood? Also, what''s up with the sword?

    The answer would have to wait, but one thing was certain: life in this family was going to be anything but boring.

 Chapter 5 Seriously! Whats up with the Blood?

    Judge stared wide-eyed as the red-haired, blood-soaked figure stepped closer. The man''s eyes, filled with something between pride and exhaustion, locked onto Judge. Without a doubt, this was his father. But why was he drenched in blood?And more importantly, why was he approaching with arms wide open like a ghost face trying to scare the children, or like a responsible adult who was just trying to give him candy.

    He remembered that one time when he was promised candies by some guys with a van on Thanksgiving Eve and his parents had to thank the police for their ''hard work''. He brushed off the embarrassing memory, he had grown since then.

    His mind was back to the present, his father leaned in near him, ready to pick him up from the bed. His tiny baby brain went into full panic mode. Nope, nope, nope! He had gone through a lot today, an embarrassing meal, a not-embarrassing bath, another embarrassing bath, a never ending parade of golden objects, and an unknown language he swore he would learn... one day.

    Getting a bloodied hug from a psychopathic killer was not on his list of¡ª''things to do before conquering the world''. Though he loved his father dearly, he hated the idea of another bath. So he had to make sure nothing, including blood and gore, dirties his body or clothes.

    Just as his father was about to scoop him like an ice cream vendor scooping ice-creams to make cones at a busy hour, his mother intervened. Coming in like a hawk trying to protect its nest, she touched her husband''s chest, stopping him mid-hug.

    Judge couldn''t understand what she said, but from the stern look on her face, it was clear she wasn''t thrilled about her husband''s current state. She was scolding him like a mother who found her kid stealing candies that she hid. She pointed at his bloodied frock coat, cravat and waistcoat, his horns, and finally at the sword hanging on his waist, everything had blood on it.

    Judge could only assume she was saying something like, "Are you seriously trying to hug our son while looking like you just walked out of a Victorian-era horror movie?" Even though he was appointed as a cameraman, this was too early for movies, and he wasn''t even planning on a horror movie.

    His father, disappointed at not being able to pick up his newborn, gave her a resigned nod. He looked at his own bloodied appearance and then retracted his horn, which gave Judge creeps as he wondered what race they were. He accepted the fact that horns were not used as a decoration on Halloween here.

    His father looked at little Judge and gave him a happy and reassuring smile, but the bloody face was not helping. With nothing else to do... he cried, yeah... what were you expecting a baby to do, dance?

    Seeing his cry, his mother urged his father to get out, and he heard something that left his superbrain wondering, "Okay honey". He looked around in surprise, that was the first time his father spoke after entering the room.

    He was sure that he had not turned on enhanced cognition, and his father spoke in a language that he did not learn, it was the foreign language that his mother and the maids spoke, but he still understood what he was saying.

    He needed to dig deeper into it, and for the time being, he needed to hear his father speak while his enhanced cognition was active. He knew that was the cheat code to learning the language that haunted him.

    His father turned and left, giving Judge a satisfied look, it was a crisis averted. His mother scooped him up and gave him a warm hug, a warmth that he wanted to last forever¡ªnot like the warmth he got from his first (and last) taste of alcohol. That left a lasting memory, but not in the best way possible.

    As she held him, Judge''s thoughts began to wander. He was still trying to make sense of everything. His father''s blood-soaked entrance had raised more questions than answers. What kind of world had he been born into? Why was his father covered in blood? And what kind of family dynamics were at play here?

    He was sure the questions wouldn''t answer themselves just because he thinks a lot, as far as he knew, this story was not that much cliche-ed. So like the most intelligent baby, he put that thought off and focused on world domination.

    Judge''s thoughts were interrupted by the soft humming of his mother, she sang the lullaby that she had paused before due to his father''s entrance. His eyes were getting heavy again, like his exhaustion from the whole day was catching up with him.

    Lullaby as an ethercraft was a cheat code, he was sure that many babies were put to sleep unjustly like this by their own mother. He drifted into sleep as he heard the sweetest lullaby he had ever heard, besides the one he heard a minute ago (Let''s not go there).

    soon morning came and he was rudely woken up by someone, all he saw was a red hair. He immediately cried because that was the most natural thing to do, the blood filled moments of previous days came to his mind.

    He soon stopped crying, because that was also the natural thing to do. And he looked at his now-clean father, the horns were no were to be found and he had changed into a maroon tuxedo tailcoat with golden patterns embroidered on both the sides. Again! What''s with the gold?

    He immediately activated his enhanced cognition and everything went silent, good timing... thank you world. An old man clad in a dark goth frock coat entered the room, he looked like he was old enough to be his grandpa.

    "Yes Dad" His father answered Judge''s Grandfather''s questions in the foreign language. "While I have eliminated those who were practicing purgatory rituals, I suspect there are still some left, we have to find their main hideout and destroy them until nothing is left".

    His grandfather said something, probably "Good work, son." He tried to memorize what his father was saying, his cognitive abilities spoke for themselves, and he memorized the words his father spoke in the foreign tongue.

    His grandfather came close to him and took him up in his arms, "Be careful Dad" His father spoke. His grandpa smiled at him as he held him in his arms, he was thankful for no blood, but he couldn''t trust anyone but his parents, and that includes grandparents. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seeing Judge''s ''not happy'' look, his grandpa put him down carefully on the bed and left, saying something to his father, who replied with an "Alright Dad." He brushed his tuxedo tailcoat and went after his father.

    His mother took him in her arms and followed behind them, it was his first time out of his room. His tiny heart beat in excitement as his mother crossed the ornate door and to the hallway outside.

 Chapter 6 Journey to a DIY throne room

    Judge thought was in a corridor inspired by the Overlook Hotel from the movie Shining, he half expected the twin girls to ask him to come and play. Was he doing a horror movie after all? Great, just what he needed¡ªghost children, to add to his list of problems. But then he noticed the huge windows on one side, which didn''t fit the horror vibe at all."Well, if a ghost shows up, I''ll just jump out the window. Easy escape plan! Right after I stop being a baby and can actually walk, of course."

    His mother slowly but carefully moved toward the windows, which were, no surprise here, ornate with gold. Seriously, did these people put gold on everything? Judge couldn''t help but notice how everyone else seemed completely unfazed by the gold overdose, while he was mentally screaming, "Who measures their wealth in gold trim?!"

    The garden in front of them spanned at least a kilometer¡ªprobably more, because who in their right mind measures gardens in kilometers anyway? And beyond were steampunky buildings, which were a sight to behold. "Am I in a sci-fi movie or a steampunk fantasy? I''m betting on steampunk, judging by the fashion choices around here."

    He could see mountains in the distance with many big houses situated on them, they were made so well that he thought they were competing in an extreme sport for architects. The mountains were definitely not what you call huge, but they still pierced the clouds like giant middle fingers to the sky. Wait a minute¡ªhow high up was their city located? Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He could see the clouds closer than inside a skyscraper, and skyscrapers were made to reach the skies.

    Before he could answer, his mother said something while pointing at the garden. "Well, that''s a good choice" His father answered "What do you think Dad?"

    He turned to Judge''s grandfather. "... Eleyn''s Choice..." He could grasp two words from his grandpa. He understood that the word Eleyn was probably his mother''s name. He was joyed at finally getting to know his mother''s name. "Finally, a clue!

    Now if only I could figure out how to ask for a diaper change in this language."

    His grandpa whipped out a small and transparent sphere, it had a black core inside with two golden rings around the core. Of course, it had gold, this family just couldn''t help themselves. The two rings were also inside the transparent sphere. He held the sphere firmly in his hands as if it was a magic billiards ball, then he whispered something so quietly it was almost inaudible.

    They were all enshrouded in a deep blue light and the next thing he knew, he was inside a crib, with his mother, father, and his grandfather sitting around a white marble table. They were all having a fun chat and having tea and cakes... without him! They were all inside a gazebo in the middle of the garden.

    Judge looked on in disbelief. "Really? They''re having a tea party without me? And here I thought I was the guest of honor! Well, when you can''t join ''em, sleep ''em. That''s the saying, right?"

    With nothing left to do... he slept... what were you expecting from him, cry? Nah he needed to prove that he can be a good child. He slept until noon and was taken in for a bath by the maids, what a life.

    But when night fell, and he was tucked back into his crib instead of snuggling up with his mom, Judge realized that maybe, just maybe, not crying had been a strategic error. He decided to protest in the most babyish way possible, crying like a baby banshee. But his mother, clearly immune to his newfound tantrum skills, simply patted his head and left him to deal with it. "Great.

    I''m out of moves, and it''s not even bedtime."

    He eventually gave up and decided to sleep. Just as his eyelids began to droop, his tiny brain had a big idea. "Wait a minute! I''m alone... I can activate the Studio!" He wasn''t exactly sure how he knew how to activate it, but who cares? Time for him to do some world-bending magic!

    without wasting any time, he activated Studio, don''t ask how does he knew how to activate Studio, he just knew, just like his enhanced cognition (A/N: I''m getting tired of the long name). And the child who was not even a week old was whisked to another dimension.

    Judge opened his eyes that he didn''t know was closed. He couldn''t look around in a newborn''s body, he remembered that he could alter his own body. He grew in size (Short Kings take note, take studio if you are approached by a deity), and soon he was a dark haired adult who was wearing a black suit on a white shirt and with a black tie.

    "Who knew all it took to grow up was a change of scenery?" He chuckled, patting himself down. "I''m back baby¡ªerr, man!". He willed for the mask that was handed to him to appear, and it did. He put it on and only then did he look around to see his office. The office was spacious, definitely too spacious, with the only light source coming from behind a moon.

    This was the same plane where he met the deity before in the afterlife. Without waiting much, he pictured a steampunk inspired office without any windows or ventilation. But it was too small for a person who was about to do world domination and Godhood.

    Soon, the black, expansive plane was replaced by a grand throne room, which stood on an elevated platform and was adorned with bright luxuries. a second viewing platform surrounded the three sides beside the side with the throne. Smooth red curtains made of silk were hanging from the platforms.

    The throne was cushioned with red fabric and was designed with patterns of gold... yeah he went with the gold. He also imagined a white marble table to appear in the empty space between the throne and the other end, he also made some light cushioned seats made of dark wood on the sides.

    He filled the rest with vases and paintings, the walls were screaming "Look at me, I''m ridiculously fancy." He made a dramatic walk toward the throne, though he did not have an audience, he would soon make some changes. He sat on the throne like he had just conquered the world. "Now, this is more like it," he said, smirking behind his mask.

    "And to think, just a few minutes ago, I was worrying about diaper rashes."

 Chapter 7 The Art of Sitting Around and Thinking like an evil mastermind

    Judge stood up from his throne after a long while, just sitting around till he got cramps wouldn''t help him with getting his audience, and definitely not in his acts for world domination. Imagine limping into a battle, trying to be all menacing, and your enemy''s just like, "Dude, do you need a stretch break?" Yeah, no thanks.If he was serious about world domination, he had to stay on top of things¡ªor at least be able to walk without wincing.

    Sure, world conquerors probably had worse problems, like finding an empire-sized pair of pants, Like, where exactly do you find empire-sized trousers? Is there a special tailor who takes measurements for "world emperor" capes? Does one have to invent a whole new currency when you''ve conquered everything? These were pressing questions, but right now, he had to focus.

    He thought hard as he walked to and fro, he wanted to get out in his adult form, After all, nobody would take a baby seriously if he tried to assert global dominance. Imagine waddling into a kingdom and declaring yourself supreme ruler while still wearing a diaper. You''d be lucky if they didn''t just hand you a pacifier and send you on your way.

    But the skill description was pretty clear, if he exited the studio, he would be returned to the exact spot where he entered. Normally, that wouldn''t be a big deal, but he''d entered the studio while in his crib. And, well, his crib wasn''t exactly designed for a full-grown man, also, being a baby wouldn''t help in moving around, he still needed to get out.

    "Great," he muttered. "Stuck between world domination and the literal crib I was born in." Talk about an existential crisis. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But then, like a spark of genius¡ªor maybe just desperation¡ªan idea struck him, he had to make sure he hadn''t turned on his super brain to be proud of himself. What if he didn''t transform into a full adult right away? What if he took on the form of a young boy? Just tall enough to walk around and maybe do some baby parkour (if that was a thing), but still small enough to fit into the crib.

    It was brilliant. Well, brilliant in the "I might not end up stuck in baby jail forever" kind of way.

    But before he could even start patting himself on the back for his sheer genius, something caught his eye. There was an open window in his mother''s room. An open window in a house filled with gold-plated everything. A house so fancy it probably had a butler for the butlers. A red flag popped up so fast, it practically smacked him in the face.

    If his family was rich enough to gold-plate everything in sight, they probably had more enemies than a politician with Twitter.

    Surely, they wouldn''t just leave windows hanging open for any random assassin or thief to stroll through and have a cup of tea with his mother while she preaches them about the error of their ways, it had the word "trap" written all over it. Or she was confident enough that nobody could enter the place, maybe she was secretly a ninja. Was she that confident in her strength?

    or did her confidence emerge from the family''s knights?

    Still, whether it was a trap or not, Judge had no intention of testing his parkour skills anytime soon. The last thing he needed was to be featured in the morning paper with the headline: "Local Baby Found Dangling from Windowsill in Bizarre Escape Attempt." Not the legacy he was going for.

    Either way, it would not spell a good ending for him. So he looked for the next best plausible solution, and another plan put his mind into work. Inspired by a memory of his grandfather teleporting them to a gazebo in the garden using some sort of magical sphere. If only he had one of those magical spheres right now, his problems would be solved.

    But alas, his grandfather had not exactly left the family teleportation device lying around in the open like a TV remote, and they did not even had a TV.

    While he had no way of obtaining the sphere, he could still attempt the ethercraft, but he did not know how to do ethercraft which worked on a different principle than magic. In his previous world, magic was like ordering takeout: clear visualization or the right chant, and boom¡ªmagic. Here? It was more like trying to assemble IKEA furniture with instructions written in ancient runes.

    But hey, he''d give it a shot.

    He felt like he was trying to solve a Rubik''s cube while blindfolded, and he wasn''t exactly the genius kind. Still, he gave it a try, closing his eyes and visualizing him teleporting across the throne room. He imagined it in vivid detail¡ªthe room, the walls, the floor. And then, just like that, he teleported!

    He nearly threw himself a little party, complete with confetti and a tiny cake, maybe a little pi?ata hanging on the wall, until reality slapped him in the face¡ªhard. The harsh truth set in, it only worked because he was inside the Studio.

    Magic in this world wasn''t going to be a walk in the park¡ªit was more like a walk on piled-up hot coals, uphill, both ways. He tried to wrap his baby brain around how the magic worked here. Did it require a medium, like the sphere his grandpa used? Did he need to sacrifice a goat or dance under the full moon? Nope, too complicated. His mental CPU started overheating, so he wisely decided to give up.

    Deciding that his baby brain had officially hit its limit for magical theorizing, he gave up. His mind was overheating like an old computer with less RAM than his trusted allies, with too many tabs open. He needed a break, so he turned back into a baby with baby clothes (Because being naked didn''t exactly fit his rich background) and returned to where he came from.

    His nap in his little baby jail felt more comfortable than ever after tiring his legs for too long. Getting the audience for his throne room could wait until after nap time.

    Soon, morning came, and so did the disturbances. Baths were not his cup of tea, and the maids definitely weren''t either, they insisted on cleaning every inch of him like he was some kind of royal teacup. But he was still thankful towards them for cleaning him up and dressing him.

    After taking a bath and changing clothes, his mother came to take him and give him breakfast. Starting the day with a full belly was always the way to go, even if you were trying for a PhD in world domination or just doing the practicals.

    After his daily protein intake, he thought about how he could take the sphere from his grandfather. Start small, he reminded himself. World domination could wait; first, he needed to swipe a magical ball from Grandpa.

    He hadn''t formulated a concrete plan yet, but it was on his to-do list¡ªright under "escape from crib" and "learn how ethercraft works without breaking brain." But it was above "Learn the language."

    His father came in after some time, "Where is my little angel?" he called out in that cringey, sing-songy tone that only dads could pull off without feeling embarrassed. Judge, however, cringed internally. Little angel? Really? Dad, I''m trying to take over the world here. His father scooped him, and started to walk out, followed by his mother.

    Just then, a knight rushed to his father, "Sir Stein" The knight held the handle of the sheathed sword and bowed, it seemed to be a form of salute in this world. "What is it?" his father gave him to his mother, who smiled and cuddled him as if she was trying to reassure him that everything was alright.

    But he was a veteran when it came to scenes with foreshadowing, and this was prime foreshadowing territory, and nothing about this situation screamed "all good."

    "We found a lead on the cult''s whereabouts," the knight reported. "We should investigate further."

    Judge''s enhanced baby senses kicked in, and he noticed ether particles zipping between them as they talked, so fast that it would be impossible to see without something like an enhanced cognition.

    So, this was how he was able to understand the language! But the thrill of discovery was quickly put to rest as his dad turned to his wife and him, "Bye honey," He first said to Eleyn "Bye, sweetie. Daddy''s gonna go whack some bad people!" Judge was about to die from the cringe. His father said it, but he was the one embarrassed.

    It still dawned on him why his father was using ethercraft to translate what he said. "He could be having his own circumstances," He reassured himself and tried to feel his father''s warmth.

    His mother walked forward the other way from his father on the smooth, polished marble tile of the very long hallway from yesterday, he was thankful that at least the floor was not made of gold.

 Chapter 8 Teleportation for Babies: Judges New Bedtime Story

    Eleyn was out on a stroll, cradling her baby like a prized loaf of bread, oblivious to the fact that her little bundle of joy was secretly plotting world domination. Her only concern was The fact that her husband had casually walked into their room earlier, dripping in blood, with horns not retracted. And no, this wasn''t the medieval equivalent of a messy day at work.Nobles weren''t supposed to flaunt their horns when not in battle¡ªit was considered "not proper." But hey, he was definitely not winning any Father of the Year awards either.

    As she walked, her mind wandered to more pressing issues¡ªlike how utterly boring it was to just sit around all day reading. Sure, she was an unstoppable force who made childbirth look like a mildly uncomfortable yoga session, but a little post-baby exhaustion wouldn''t have hurt, she could''ve slept away the boredom that way.

    She wished she could kick back like the elves or dwarves, who got to lounge around after their babies were born. Lucky them, sipping tea, feet up, reading Elven Weekly while the world passed them by (Not actually though, they were sleeping from exhaustion). But her? She had to bounce back immediately. And, unfortunately, it was getting boring fast.

    As boredom teased her aggressively, She had a brilliant Idea after thinking about elves: why not check on the elf tutor who was currently trying to educate her older children, Amber and Liam? Now that might be entertaining¡ªwatching someone else suffer for a change. Kidding, she was just there to check on her children''s education, like a responsible mother... Yeah.

    But also, watching an elf attempt to teach two pint-sized hurricanes? A+ entertainment.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge, on the other hand, was sound asleep in his mom''s arms, having no idea when he''d drifted off. His head was pounding, thanks to the fact that he forgot to turn off his enhanced cognition. Just how careless can a person be, but hey, he was still a baby, carelessness is an expected trait.

    Just as he was about to shut his EC down, he heard an unknown voice he had never heard before (EC -> Enhanced Cognition). Curious, he peeked over and saw a woman¡ªan elf, to be exact, with ears sharp enough to pick up satellite signals and a fashion sense that screamed "I''m too fancy for my own good."

    She was decked out in a blue full skirt, completed with a set of ribbons and laces, her dress was just too fancy for a casual wear inside someone''s house. Her blonde hair was neatly tied up in a bun that probably took longer to perfect than most people spent getting dressed, and most females take a lot of time getting dressed.

    "So let me repeat what I just explained," She was taking lessons to his parent stealers (Siblings). "Ethercraft can be used in any form as long as the user knows the principles behind it and applies it properly. So, for the next exercise, I want you to try and form your own ethercraft.

    Remember, ethercraft is all about creativity and principles, and as long as you have the right principles, you can let your creativity run wild and create anything with ether." She paused, letting the little geniuses¡ªages six and two¡ªdigest this nugget of wisdom. Then she dropped the bomb- S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "But!" She said with a serious look on her face, "Please be mindful about your psyche, using ethercraft which is too complex for your psyche to handle will make you go mad, and will be left as a shell of your former being, ready to be killed because your mind is already dead." She never considered that she was telling about the consequences to a six-year-old and a two-year-old.

    She might as well have told them not to eat too much candy before bed.

    Judge was so invested that he forgot to cry¡ªhe forgot two very important things: he was starving, and his head was throbbing like a bad dubstep beat. His cry forced his mom to leave the room in order to feed him. Once outside and after making sure the door was closed, she leaned forward with Judge gripped tightly in her arms, and ran at such a speed that made Usain bolt back down and take notes.

    In fact, she was practically a blur, did she not consider that a newborn baby was in her arms?

    She stopped right in front of their room, but Physics decided to take a medical leave today as he never experienced any kinetic force for the duration of his travels, but the air around decided to side with Physics as they moved around chaotically, creating turbulence and shockwaves.

    His mother slowly entered the room as she was just back from a leiserous stroll. Once inside, she settled onto the bed and began feeding him. Judge, now fully aware that his mom might actually be a superhero (or supervillain), decided it was best to eat up and stay on her good side. After all, world domination was going to require some serious parental support.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Day gave way for the night, and judge was put inside his crib instead of on the bed, near his mom. But this time, he didn''t complain, he used interdimensional VPN to travel to his studio, which was just as complicated as putting an iPhone into silent mode.

    Once inside and grown up to be a full-grown adult, threw on his signature mask, and parked himself on the throne like the mastermind he was, not. And then, only then, did he start thinking of what the elf tutor said.

    His mind wandered back to the elf tutor''s words about ethercraft¡ªbeing all about creativity and principles. That sounded great in theory, but in practice, he felt like someone had handed him a book called "Teleportation for Dummies" and left out all the pages.

    If ethercraft was really based on just plane creativity and principles, what about the time when his grandfather used a sphere to teleport before?

    Was that another form of ethercraft? or was that an artifact? He decided not to whack his brain further with that trail of thoughts. He instead focused on how to properly create a principle for teleporting.

    Of course, teleporting was not as easy as ordering a quantum physics for babies textbook on Amazon (Yes that is a thing). He could still try to develop a principle for teleporting, not that he was familiar with it.

    After a bit of thinking, he realized one thing: teleporting wasn''t just moving from point A to point B. It was more like folding space, or at least making two places temporarily connect, he heard that on YouTube. If he could just imagine that the space around him was flexible, like bending paper, then he could theoretically move across it by "pinching" two points together.

    With that in mind, he needed a way to form his principle. Ether seemed to be like a universal power source, so it should be possible to use it to create a connection between two points. He decided to keep things simple:

    1. Visualize the place he wanted to go.

    2. Picture the ether connecting his current position to that spot, like a bridge or a string.

    3. Use the ether to "pull" the two points closer until they overlapped.

    4. cross over.

    5. you completed all the steps.

    This was starting to feel like an informative reel on Instagram¡ªFor those who don''t know¡ªwithout any knowledgeable or useful info.

    It sounded reasonable. Now, it was time to test it. He closed his eyes, focusing on a corner of the throne room. He visualized the ether like threads, stretching out from where he was sitting to the distant corner. Slowly, he tugged at them, pulling the two spaces closer together, trying to fold the distance between them.

    For a moment, nothing happened. He frowned, but then suddenly, he felt a shift. It was as if the air around him rippled, and in a blink, he was standing in the corner of the room.

    It worked. He blinked in surprise. No party poppers, no confetti, but hey, he just teleported! The principle seemed to be solid: using ether to connect two points, then pulling them together, he was confident that this was not the effect of studio at play.

    He did a little victory shuffle, more out of relief than excitement. His principle was simple and effective, and it didn''t involve any quantum-level headaches or the need for goat sacrifices.

    With teleporting now in his toolbox, he felt like he was one step closer to world domination. Baby steps, literally. He could finally go out and make his grand debut in his new world, it was time for him to gather his audience in the throne room.

    But one problem still remained, he wondered why problems loved him more than sleep. When he was out on his grand venture into wherever the teleportation takes him, his mother could actually wake to find her baby gone. Now that was not a very ideal situation.

    But that was for another day, he still needed his rest and he had already spent a lot of time in his personal dimension. So he headed back with more tasks to achieve the next day.

 Chapter 9 How to Not Die (Step One: Dont Switch Souls with a Rubber Doll)

    Judge sat on his oversized, luxurious throne in the Studio, mulling over one of his next brilliant ideas. He''d already experimented with teleportation, enough to know that with enough principle (and sheer stubbornness), he could fold space like it was a badly written script.But today? Today, he was going to take things up a notch. Teleportation would solve a problem but create another problem, so creating a clone and switching with it seemed like a better plan. No need to break reality every time he wanted to move from point A to point B. His baby legs deserved better.

    So, he rolled up his sleeves, stretched out his mental faculties like an athlete before a big match, and began the arduous process of creating his clone.

    "Alright," Judge muttered to himself, "it''s time to duplicate this perfection."

    He stood in front of a mirror he summoned (because why not have a mirror in your interdimensional space?) and focused hard on the idea of a clone¡ªa mirror image of himself, but preferably without all the baby fat and the constant need to be fed.

    He pictured the mirror version of himself... nothing happened. Maybe if he tried hard? He tried again... still nothing. His personal space refused cooperate, he dropped the idea quicker than a boyfriend going for milk after getting the pregnancy results.

    He decided to adopt ethercraft, because magic always works out somehow. He looked into the mirror again and almost fell for his own beauty, "Man I''m such a lady killer" He thought. He thought about what kind of materials are the best when it comes to making a clone and decided to opt for rubber.

    He first conjured up some rubber and plastic for the skin and bones, he put them in front of the mirror. Ether swirled around him, turning into a rather big orb in front of the mirror. His eyes sparkled as he visualized the masterpiece he was about to create... Himself. He used ether to melt both the materials and made a path for them to follow.

    In a burst of light that looked suspiciously like confetti, the clone appeared. There it was, standing in front of him¡ªa perfect replica, wearing the same black suit, the same handsome face, and the same mildly annoyed expression.

    Judge looked the clone up and down, gave a nod of approval, and whispered, "Not bad. Not bad at all." And after a pause, he continued "Gosh! I''m such a lady killer," He couldn''t hold back the thought. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The clone, predictably, said nothing. It just stood there, waiting. Judge decided to name it... Clone-Judge. It was simple, to the point, he didn''t require any creativity.

    Next up: teleportation. He scratched his chin (yes, he summoned a beard just so he could dramatically scratch it). His earlier teleportation experiments had worked, but this time, the stakes were higher. He wanted to switch places with Clone-Judge, not just zap to some random spot in his own Studio. Simple in theory, complicated in execution.

    But he was Judge¡ªcomplicated was his middle name (well, not really, but it might as well be since he doesn''t have a middle name) and he was still in the dark about his family name, all he knew was that it had something to do with ''Dragons''.

    He adjusted his teleportation principle. Before, he had just visualized his destination, pull the ether strings, connect the fabric of space between the two places, and poof¡ªteleportation done. This time, he had to use Clone-Judge as the destination, making sure that their respective locations swapped. Easy? Not at all. Possible?

    Absolutely.

    Judge focused, letting his mind wrap around the idea. Ether buzzed around him like a swarm of eager fireflies, and he visualized the principle: instead of just going somewhere, his soul and body would switch coordinates with Clone-Judge''s. One second passed. Then two. Then¡ª

    Pop.

    Judge blinked. He wasn''t on the throne anymore. He was standing where Clone-Judge had been, while Clone-Judge now sat smugly on the throne, wearing an expression that was exactly the same as his own but somehow more annoying. But he soon realized something, he was not breathing, in fact, his arms felt like rubber...

    "Wait a damn minute!" he screamed (at least he tried to) as he realized what had just happened.

    He had switched places with the clone, but only his soul was switched, not his body. He immediately switched back and patted himself and breathed heavily to make sure everything was alright. And finally, he gave a sigh of relief, he did not die because he was inside the studio.

    He crossed his arms, looking solemn and definitely not in the mood for jokes. He had two choices in front of him, Either he try to perfectly switch between him and the clone, or he create a functional clone that could guarantee him being alive even if he was outside.

    Both were complicated and the former one seemed more plausible. While he was thinking hard on a solution, a blue light appeared and flashed.

    "Ugh, her again," he groaned.

    From the blinding light appeared the deity of stories, gliding down as though gravity simply didn''t apply to her. She smiled at him, her whole vibe exuding "I''m here to make your life both easier and infinitely more difficult." She descended slowly before him and stood on the red carpet between his throne and the descending stairs which led to the long table made of marble.

    "Have you lost your way, little one?" She said with a smile. like some ancient therapist with a questionable track record.

    "Hold up" Judge motioned his hand for her to stop, "First of all, no, just no. Second, this is not the set of ''Doctor Deity, How May I Fix You?'' And third, I haven''t even done anything wrong¡ªyet... well, since I am a baby."

    The deity pouted, which looked incredibly bizarre on someone who claimed to govern all stories. "You should know that you are the only one who speaks to me this way. The girl I just met a few moments ago was so much respectful." She looked like a young girl throwing a tantrum.

    Judge blinked. "The girl?" He didn''t like the sound of that. The last thing he needed was a colleague. He had enough on his plate already¡ªbaby schedules, world domination, creating clones. Networking was not on the agenda.

    "Oh yes, I got another recorder of stories," Feigning ignorance to Judge''s growing discomfort. "She''s very far from where you are now, but don''t worry, you''ll meet her eventually. Years from now, actually., but I assure you that you will see her." The deity was smiling again.

    Judge shifted uncomfortably. Fantastic. A playdate with another recorder. Just what I needed. "Right, moving on," he said quickly, waving off the idea of ''colleagues.'' "Why are you really here?"

    The deity brightened, seemingly glad to have an excuse to drop more unresponsible advice. "Ah, yes! I saw you were struggling with your little cloning business, so I thought I''d remind you of something important. Since you are behind your schedule in providing a proper story." She snapped her fingers, and Judge''s mask appeared in her hands.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed. "Okay, what cryptic nugget of wisdom do you have this time?" He said with a sigh. He was just a baby and she was already expecting him to provide stories, but as long as he could get out, he was willing to provide a story or two.

    She grinned and tossed him the mask. "Remember, the cameraman never dies." And just like that¡ªpoof¡ªshe vanished into thin air, leaving only her vague words and a mildly annoyed baby genius.

    Judge stared at the mask for a second before a lightbulb (an imaginary one, of course) popped above his head. "Of course! The mask! How could I forget?"

    With a new plan in place, he put the mask on, feeling the familiar weight settle over his face. He didn''t just look like the world''s most mysterious cameraman; he was the world''s most mysterious cameraman. "I won''t die as long as I wear this one, and I can get out and record stories, oh I''m such a genius"

    Satisfied with his brilliance, Judge decided it was time to test the final product. He was ready for the next step. He went back to his crib, snuggling into the sheets with an evil grin¡ªwell, as evil as a baby could manage¡ªand drifted off to sleep, ready for tomorrow night''s big test.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Morning came, and with it, the usual chaotic rituals of baby life. Baths were splashes of unwanted cold water, dressing up was like being squeezed into a fashionable straightjacket, and breakfast...well, breakfast was delightful, as long as you liked being spoon-fed mashed goo, as humiliating as it was to say this, but he had to say it, he missed milk, all because of some kind of sweet goo.

    Judge endured it all with the patience of a man plotting his rise to power (which, coincidentally, he was).

    The day went by without much fanfare. There was the usual family chitchat, some cryptic mutterings from his grandfather, and his mother''s casual strolls around the estate, his father was nowhere to be found. But the real action was coming as night fell. That was when Judge would put his teleportation plan to the ultimate test.

 Chapter 10 How do I tell a giant bird that a mannequin is not tasty

    Night came once more, and with it, Judge entered the Studio again, now wearing his cameraman mask like a supervillain preparing for his big heist. Time for Phase Two. He summoned Clone-Judge again, and this time, he thought of the best materials he could think of to make his clone with.He first activated his EC, he thought hard about the materials he would use. "Carbon fiber... titanium... cobalt-chrome alloy... yeah, sounds about right." He scratched his head. "Why does this feel like I''m about to build a luxury sports car?

    And he doesn''t even know how to make one"

    He booted up his ether, and like an expert in a Blender tutorial, he made a mental 3D viewport and immediately pressed F12 for a quick render. The carbon fiber formed into a block, sturdy and lightweight¡ªjust like the Judge 2.0 should be. Then came the titanium, shiny and imposing, because why settle for anything less?

    Finally, the cobalt-chrome alloy, because you need something that sounds super science-y to make a perfect clone.

    Piece by piece(well he actually changed the state of metal and carbon fiber to liquid, but this is just here for context), he constructed Clone-Judge with a precision that any graphic designer would envy. Base of cobalt-chrome? Check. Joints of carbon fiber? Check. Titanium-coated exterior?

    You bet. And for the final touch, a thin layer of carbon fiber over the whole thing¡ªbecause Judge had no idea why, but it just looked cool. Maybe because walking around in a shiny titanium body was not the way to go, since most thieves in a fantasy world don''t actually care if you are alive while looting.

    For the final touch, he needed to make it look more like a human, because people aren''t really textured like carbon fiber unless he was in an unfinished, glitchy videogame, which he definitely wasn''t. He started with Acrylic Paint, making sure it reached every nook and cranny, then came the epoxy topcoat, which he put it over to mimic the luster of human skin.

    But he changed it midway and decided to focus more on the facial features. After removing the epoxy and acrylic, he summoned some TPE (Thermoplastic elastomers) to make the face look more human, and applied it to the head, neck, and arms.

    He jumped up as he marveled at the beauty he had created, it was a spitting image of himself... if he was made of carbon fiber of course. Without much time to spare, he sent the clone out into the real world with a snap of his fingers.

    "Go forth, minion," Judge said, waving dismissively as Clone-Judge disappeared into the void. He did not know where it ended up, it could be inside a dense forest full of monsters for all he cared.

    With the clone now outside the Studio, Judge felt a surge of satisfaction. "Now, for the big one. Let''s do that tomorrow and head back now" Judge shrank to the size of a baby, and he accidentally did the teleportation-switch ethercraft instead of heading back from his studio to inside his crib. The ether hummed around him like it had just downed an entire pot of coffee¡ªwith milk, and then-

    Pop.

    Judge swiftly tried to exit his studio, fully expecting to return to his crib and laugh at how smoothly everything had gone. Except... when his eyes opened, he wasn''t in his crib. His two brain cells that were still functioning told him of how he had manually and absent-mindedly switched places with the clone that was sent out to the world instead of going back to bed. Stupid!

    Nope.

    Judge stood in the middle of the forest, his mind racing and his feet glued to the ground. He looked up, way up, at the trees towering over him like skyscrapers that had grown ancient and grumpy.

    The trees were so tall, that he half-expected them to start nagging him for not wearing a set of armor, or worse, messing with nature''s plan.

    The branches were twisted in such a way that it gave the impression that the trees had personalities, and those personalities were not very friendly. It was as if they were glaring at him, silently judging his life choices, and deciding whether to eat him raw or cooked (Fertilised).

    "I have seriously jinxed this," Judge muttered to himself, spinning around in circles, trying to get his bearings. And the night inside this forest? Let''s just say it had the vibe of, I''m watching you, kid.

    The night air was cold with a hostile silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves overhead. Those rustles? Yeah, they didn''t sound innocent, like, not innocent at all¡ªthey had that creepy, ''I see you'' vibe. He could practically feel the forest watching him, like he was the star of a survival reality show where the trees were the audience, and he was about to be voted off.

    "Wooh!" Judge yelled into the night, his voice barely echoing back. His did that to keep his calm, not let his panic overtake him. "Where in the steampunky ether world am I?" This forest did not fit the steampunk theme that he had thought of the world.

    It didn''t take him long to realize that his perfect, genius plan had gone slightly off track, his genius brain, flawless in theory, had apparently decided to take a vacation. His clone had teleported to some random location in the middle of the wilderness, and now, thanks to their switch, Judge was the one stuck here.

    Worse still, as he tried to call on his ether to return to the Studio, he felt a terrible emptiness inside.

    His ether was completely drained, leaving just a few specks of ether inside him, which just helps his soul move his clone body, which, thankfully, did not drain his ether, the low battery notification had not yet popped up, so he made a mental note of adding one after he got out of the forest and figured out how.

    "Are you kidding me?!" Judge groaned, slumping to the ground. "I''m a baby with world domination plans, stuck in a forest without a clue where I am."

    He glanced up at the dark sky, now fully aware that the trees above him weren''t just ominous¡ªthey were menacing. Leaves rustling rather ominously (very ominously) overhead. "This is fine. Totally fine. Not like I''m stranded or anything¡­" He was.

    He continued to comfort himself, "I''m a genius, the best of current existence. I''ve got this." He did not, in fact, ''have this''. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And thus, Judge¡ªbaby mastermind extraordinaire¡ªfound himself stranded in the middle of nowhere, wearing a suit that was much too formal for the occasion, and with zero ether to get himself out.

    "Yep, I''m a genius," he muttered sarcastically, staring into the dark forest with an annoyed expression, walking forward in his newly made clone, with all the dignity of a potato sack. "I''m a baby stuck in the woods with zero ether, and I didn''t even bring snacks!"

    Judge tugged at the collar of his outfit. His suit, which was custom-made for plotting and scheming, was entirely defenseless when it came to... well¡ªdefending.

    "This suit was not made for hiking," he muttered, kicking at a stray twig. "I''m supposed to be plotting world domination, not going on some wilderness survival adventure." He opened his arms and half an arm-length shortsword popped out. "At least I have this for defense"

    He touched his face to make sure the mask was still attached, which was unnecessary since he wouldn''t be able to lift his hand without the mask (He would die If you haven''t forgotten).

    He decided to draft a story for the deity, since she was complaining of not getting any and he was just in the perfect condition. The MC being himself, since he hadn''t gotten any personnel yet. He was thinking of an interview to be held soon. And also! A mysterious masked man, in a dark forest, in the middle of the night was what you call an intriguing setup.

    Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He heard something¡ªa distant sound, it was faint but unmistakable. A waterfall, the sound came from his left.

    Hoping to find a clue that would lead him out of this eerily quiet and mysteriously unhostile forest, he decided to travel to the sound. When he realized something, he again jinxed himself, talking about how the forest was mysteriously unhostile.

    The waterfall formed a good-sized crystal clear pond that fed a river, the blue moonlight made the water shimmer in its light, making the scene more beautiful.

    The scenery was something that could not be put into words, but his biggest concern was the giant bird that was drinking water from the scenic pond.

    He decided to slowly back out, because even though his body was made of hard materials, his confidence in his body was not, and the deity had told him not to get cocky with his ''cameraman never dies'' trait.

    As he was slowly walking away, he stepped on a twig. Probably to get back at him for kicking a stray twig. But the plot was too cliche. Really? Stepping on a twig while retreating from an unnoticed enemy? He was still recording the story, maybe that caused the plot to pop up.

    He looked at the bird in fear, and to his dismay, the golden and sharp eyes were staring at him, like an eye of a true predator. "Oh baby poops!" Judge squeaked, his voice now sounded like he was writing his will after knowing he would die today. "I should''ve chosen plot armor!"

 Chapter 11 Ether Well? More Like,

    Judge took out his shortsword with a dramatic pose, as if he were about to face down a dragon... or in this case, a giant bird. The titanium blade sparked in the moonlight, and for a split second, he almost felt like a hero. Almost.In reality, he was about to face a very large, very angry bird.

    He leaned forward in what he imagined was an impressive stance, ready to face his feathery doom. He wasn''t going to die here, not in the middle of this forest where his grand plan of world domination had taken a sharp detour.

    "Alright, you overgrown chicken, let''s dance," he muttered under his breath, trying to motivate himself up. Sure, in his previous life, he used a sword as a medium for magic, and yeah, he knew some swordplay. But "knew" was doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

    His sword skills were about as formidable as a beginner''s knitting class, since using it as a medium for magic and actually using it was entirely different. His actual sword skills? Rustier than the hinges on a forgotten gate. But hey, confidence is half the battle, right? Right?

    The bird, however, did not seem impressed by his posturing. It let out a low screech, flaring its wings dramatically. Each wing was larger than Judge''s entire body. "Okay... this is fine. I just need to aim for the¡ª" The bird cut him off with another screech, as if to say, "You talk too much."

    "Noted," Judge whispered, gripping his sword tighter, his hands sweaty under the mask. "Alright, sword. It''s just you and me. I hope you still remember how to do... anything."

    The bird charged.

    Judge charged.

    And then, they both stopped, staring at each other. Judge blinked. The bird blinked. "Uh, are we supposed to, like, fight now? Or...?" Judge stammered, feeling extremely awkward.

    The bird turned its head to the side, almost confused. "Okay, here goes nothing!" Judge leaped forward in what he thought was a very graceful attack. It wasn''t. He tripped over a rock and nearly TPE face-planted into the dirt, but somehow¡ªby some miracle¡ªhe managed to swipe his sword through the air toward the bird. His sword slashed wildly through the air, completely missing the bird.

    The bird hopped backward, watching Judge flail like a child trying to swordfight with a pool noodle, looking down at him with what could only be described as birdy disdain. It blinked once.

    The sheer size difference between them made the whole scene even more ridiculous. The bird was gigantic, towering over him, and Judge was... well, a slightly bigger baby in an adult clone body. Not exactly heroic.

    "Alright, Plan B!" Judge shouted, straightening up and trying to ignore how much dirt was now on his suit. He pointed his sword at the bird dramatically, trying to focus his ether. "Let''s see if I can still do a magic trick or two."

    He concentrated, and the ether buzzed through him like an over-caffeinated hummingbird. He swung his sword in a wide arc, hoping to release a wave of energy that would at least startle the bird. Instead, what came out was more of a fizzle than a flash¡ªa tiny, unimpressive spark... No, calling that a spark was a humiliation for other sparks.

    The bird blinked again, clearly unimpressed. Judge blinked again. "Well, that''s embarrassing," he muttered, staring at the sword in disbelief. "You had one job!"

    The bird took a step forward, apparently deciding it had had enough of this comedy show. Judge''s eyes widened as the bird lunged, its beak aimed directly at him. He dodged to the side with a squeak that was definitely not dignified.

    Panic surged through him now. This wasn''t a joke anymore. This bird could kill him. The stakes were suddenly very real, and the idea of dying in a forest, at the beak of a giant bird, wasn''t how Judge pictured his grand quest ending.

    "Why do they never teach you how to fight birds in sword school?" he grumbled, swinging his blade again. This time, the sword caught a feather, just one, plucking it free.

    "HA! Take that!" he shouted triumphantly, holding the feather like a trophy. The bird, now very, very angry, let out a low-pitched screech and flapped its massive wings, creating a gust of wind that knocked Judge off his feet. He landed flat on his back with a grunt.

    "Great. Now I''m a feather-collecting idiot," he groaned, staring up at the dark sky.

    Just as the bird prepared to peck him into oblivion, something deep inside him stirred. The faint glow of ether flickered at the edge of his vision. It pulsed, stronger this time. His sword began to glow faintly. "Oh, NOW you decide to work?!" he shouted at the sword, before swinging it wildly, releasing ether by using the sword as a medium. Not the intended use for ether, but if it works, it works.

    A burst of ether shot out from the blade, hitting the bird square in the chest. The bird squawked, clearly more startled than hurt, and flapped its wings furiously. In a flurry of feathers and angry screeches, it took off into the night sky, leaving Judge alone by the waterfall, panting.

    "I did it," he breathed, lying in the dirt. "I fought a bird. And I won. Sort of."

    After catching his breath, Judge stood up and dusted himself off. His suit was now officially ruined. "Well, there goes my tailor''s deposit," he muttered, but he couldn''t help feeling a small sense of accomplishment. He''d survived. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And then he saw it¡ªa faint glow emanating from behind the waterfall. Curious (and with nothing better to do), Judge walked toward the source of the light. Behind the waterfall, nestled within the rocks, was a shimmering pool of liquid ether, swirling with a bright glow.

    "Is that¡­ an Ether Well?" Judge whispered, eyes wide. "So that''s why I got my ether back! And here I was regretting not taking plot armor." He had never seen one in person before, well... since he never actually left the house until today. He had heard the elf tutor talk about it just this morning.

    Ether Wells were natural reserves of concentrated ether, formed in hidden places around the world due to the flow of underground ether, and all of the cities were formed around large ether wells. Large as in, comparing this etherwell and an etherwell that ran a city was like comparing a puddle with a big reservoir.

    They were the main source of power in the steampunk setting, well it was more like etherpunk but who cares?

    Without thinking twice, Judge leaned over the pool and dipped his hand into the shimmering liquid. Instantly, a surge of energy rushed through his soul, refilling his drained ether reserves in an instant, and possibly increasing it, though slightly.

    "Oh yeah, that''s the good stuff," he said, grinning from ear to ear. He felt like he''d just had the best cup of coffee in existence. "Now, we''re talking."

    Feeling invincible once more, Judge stood up straight, cracked his neck, and focused on returning to the Studio. "Alright, clone-me, time to switch back." With a snap of his fingers, the ether hummed around him, and in a blink, he was back in his throne, in his baby form.

    He was never more happy to be a baby again, and since he got his body back, decided to head back to sleep. Feeling refreshed he exited the studio, getting the sensational feeling of being inside his crib.

    "All in a day''s work," he mumbled, before immediately passing out into the deepest sleep he''d had in a long, long time.

 Chapter 12 Dads missing, but do I care? No!

    The morning was just another normal day for Judge. Well, as normal as it could be when you''re a mastermind stuck in a baby body, plotting to manipulate nobles from the safety of your crib. Today, however, something felt different. He could sense it¡ªthe slight drop in his mother''s smile, the way her eyes darted around the room.It was like the air had tension in it, but not the kind of tension you''d get from an important international athletic match. No, this was more like... "Mom''s going to ground me" tension.

    He had no idea what was wrong, but one thing was for sure¡ªhe wasn''t solving this mystery without knowing what the actual problem was. Which was a bit like trying to play chess without a board. His baby brain spun, but no solution appeared.

    After breakfast¡ªan affair that mostly involved him pretending to be a normal, happy baby while planning the conquest of nations in his head¡ªhis mother scooped him up and carried him off to check on her children''s lessons. This had become part of her new routine for the last three days, and Judge had just about gotten used to it. But something clicked in his mind as they walked.

    "Three days ago... Father was last seen three days ago," he thought. "Coincidence? I think not. Is that why Mom looks gloomy?" He had bad feeling about this, but he was confident in his father and the knights who went with him.

    The plot thickened, but alas, Judge had no time to dwell on it, as they arrived at the lesson room. His mother greeted the two knights standing guard outside the room. Their armor was a fancy mix of black metal with intricate silver patterns. At least, Judge thought it was silver. Could''ve been aluminum for all he knew.

    Either way, they greeted her in a way that screamed "professional knight," which was basically just holding their sword hilts and bowing forward like they were some cool kids pretending to be knights in a school costume ball.

    The knights opened the doors with a practiced ease, and Judge''s mother entered the room. Inside, a lesson was just starting. The elf tutor¡ªan elegant woman named Melina¡ªgreeted her with a warm, almost overly bright smile.

    "Miss Eleyn! You are here today as well," Melina chirped, beaming. She wore an emerald dress that looked like it was made out of materials used in a light bulb industry, with her usual braided bun perched on her head like the world''s most renowned pretzel.

    "Oh, don''t mind me. Just continue as usual," Judge''s mother replied with a graceful nod.

    Judge, on the other hand, was about to have a heart attack. Not from the presence of knights or magical tutors, but because he suddenly realized he could understand every word his mother was saying. Perfectly.

    "Hold on, wait... WHAT?!" Judge mentally screamed. "Since when do I understand... MOM?!"

    He stared, wide-eyed, feeling like he''d just been hit by a magical frying pan. Until now, he could never fully grasp what his mother was saying, as if some mystical force was keeping him in baby ignorance. But now? Now it was like someone flipped a switch.

    He could feel the ether humming in his body, and realization struck like a lightning bolt, it was the first time he heard his mother speak to the elf, he was asleep in all the previous sessions.

    "It''s ether! Ether is the reason I can understand her! But... how?!"

    Before he could unravel this latest magical puzzle, the elf tutor, Melina, had already started her lesson. Today''s topic? The races of the continent, and boy, was this about to get interesting.

    "Now, children," Melina began, her voice like honeyed silk, "on our great continent of Eldris, there are many races. Apart from the Royal family, there are many noble families that lead each race."

    Judge mentally groaned, this was going to be a boring and exhausting lecture class. But Melina went on, describing each race and its corresponding noble family. "First of all, let''s start with your family." She wrote something on the board.

    "While the royal family is composed of dragons, The Drakonis family represents the dragons. Dragons are the most impressive when it comes to transforming into ''human form''. They even have a second form which is similar to the ''Human Form'' with just horns and sharp ears. Transforming into a full dragon is now a rare thing to do."

    Judge''s heart was about to give him another wake-up call, "We? Dragons?"

    Then there was the Elorin family, governing the race of elves, most close to ether in its natural state that they are able to manipulate ether a lot better than other races.

    She touched on the Taruk family, a family that rules the mighty orcs who could snap a tree in half but somehow became aristocratic in their "human" forms.

    "Wait," Amber interrupted, raising a delicate hand. "Why do we always appear in our human forms? I''ve never seen someone not being in their human form. Except for dad with horns and sharp ears." He could now understand his sister too. What in the world was going on, was he starting to understand the language?

    Melina smiled, a little too knowingly. "Ah, excellent question, Miss Amber! Let''s say you are walking around in your true form, which means that you cannot enter places made by smaller races, and for all races to fit into society, it is a mandatory decision to be in their human form. Especially when you are to go to a social function with many other races.

    And also the most important thing is that Human form is the natural form of all races."

    Judge barely managed to hold back a snort. "So, they''re like shapeshifting debutantes. Perfect."

    She continued like a nerd who had just gotten a subject she was curious about, "While most race have only one Human Form, the dragons have two, and except for the house of Drakonis and the royal family, all are required to have their horns and sharp ears out."

    His Borther asked another question, which was translated by his sister. "Teacher Melina, I have another question from my brother." Amber''s brow widened slightly, like a kid full of curiosities. "How is it that I can understand you so clearly, even though you''re speaking Elvish? I''ve never learned a word of it."

    Melina''s eyes sparkled. "Ah, that''s due to the ethercraft known as translation! Though, it doesn''t actually translate words directly. Instead, it conveys the intent of the speaker to the listener. So, what you''re hearing isn''t a word-for-word translation of Elvish, but rather the meaning behind my words."

    Judge could only sit there, dumbfounded. "So... it''s like a magical subtitling service?" He silently marveled at the creative uses of ethercraft. "Ether is the gift that keeps on giving, now I know how to get more people into my Studio."

    The day passed in a haze of lessons, nobles, and ether-induced translations, until finally, Judge found himself meeting his grandfather. The old man wore a red, indigo, and white regal attire, he was sharp-eyed, and clearly not one to mince words. But what caught Judge''s attention was the man standing beside him¡ªa stranger, who stared at Judge as if he were a rare specimen.

    After examining him for a moment, the stranger had a surprised face, he backed away from him and said something to his mother and grandpa. Whatever he said clearly shocked the old man, who looked between Judge and the stranger, a mix of surprise and... was that pride?

    Eleyn, beaming with happiness, scooped Judge up and carried him off, leaving Judge to wonder what exactly had just happened. "Okay, what''s the big news? Did I win the baby lottery or something?"

    As night fell, Judge was back in his Studio, his sanctuary of manipulation. He swapped places with his clone and instantly felt the familiar hum of ether all around him. He grinned. It was time to absorb the ether from the Ether Well and start training his body... or Soul, since his body was inside the studio.

    He realized that the ether was getting easier to absorb, when the topic of ether wells was presented yesterday, Melina did say that an ether well would greatly help in increasing one''s ether. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The Ether Well''s energy surged around him, crackling like invisible lightning. As Judge meditated, he reflected on the natural phenomenon of Ether Wells. They were replenished by underground ether currents, like rivers of pure energy flowing beneath the surface. It was nature''s way of keeping the magical balance in check.

    But Judge had another trick up his sleeve. Since his clone didn''t technically have a brain, he didn''t need Psyche to cast magic, at least in theory. His soul handled the heavy lifting, which was fortunate because controlling ethercraft with a brainless clone would''ve been... complicated, to say the least.

    "Ether truly is the swiss army knife of magic," he thought, chuckling to himself.

    However, his amusement faded when he noticed something strange on one of the walls of the Ether Well. Every inch of the wall was exuding ether¡ªexcept for one rectangular spot. A dead zone, where no ether seemed to flow.

    Judge frowned. "That''s... weird." He reached out, but decided to stay for a little while. "Why isn''t this part of the wall doing its job?"

    His curiosity piqued, Judge made a mental note to investigate the anomaly. "Because nothing says ''let''s solve a mystery'' like a magic wall acting up."

    With a sigh, he leaned back, still absorbing ether, but his mind raced. What in the world was wrong with that spot on the wall?

 Chapter 13 Nothing is more fishy than a dimly lit bar

    The tavern was dimly lit, hardly being able to see the faces of three figures present on the bar. It was a very lively place, being the go-to place for many customers (if you actually lit it), but tonight, it was empty except for three people.A mysterious man sat at the bar, clad in a long black suit and dark navy waistcoat. His black top hat added a touch of style, he looked like a traveler who was just being fancy. He sipped his beer quietly, the amber liquid catching the faint light from the dim lanterns. The mood around him screaming, "I am so mysterious that I can almost sense the plot thickening."

    Near him, but two stools apart, another man sat with an aristocratic air. He was dressed in a blue tailcoat, white shirt, trousers, gloves¡ªeverything was saying "I''m important," including the black hat that perched on his head like a crown. If you didn''t know better, you''d think he was here to purchase the whole tavern just because he liked the decor.

    Hawthorne, the mysterious man in black, finally broke the silence. His voice was deep, like he was using soundboard to feel more mysterious. "What did you call me for? My work doesn''t come cheap."

    The nobleman, unfazed, leaned back and adjusted his gloves. "I''m well aware. I don''t hand out cheap work to mercenaries like you."

    Hawthorne took another sip of beer, eyeing the nobleman as if deciding whether he''d prefer to throw him out of the window or just listen. "Then spit it out. What do you need?" His tone was very unwelcoming, as if even seeing the guy was beneath him.

    The nobleman leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if even the walls might eavesdrop on the information that he was about to share. "Mr. Hawthorne, I want you to find something for me. Something... delicate."

    The bartender, polishing glasses with a deliberate slowness, glanced over but said nothing. After all, bartenders in mysterious scenes never say much unless they''re part of the plot.

    Hawthorne raised an eyebrow. "Delicate, huh? What are we talking? A missing cat? A love letter?"

    "A torn diary," the nobleman replied, his voice as sharp as his well tailored suit. "It belonged to an ethercraft researcher, someone who was studying the... less conventional sides of ether. The use of the said ethercraft seems to burn through your psyche due to the complexity, I want to know how much have it progressed and whether a less demanding principle was found"

    Hawthorne leaned back, setting his glass on the bar with a soft thud. "And what''s so special about this diary and its ethercraft?"

    The nobleman''s gloved fingers tapped the table, his eyes narrowing towards Hawthorne. "The researcher was working on something... unique. The ability to create nothing." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Hawthorne blinked. "Nothing?"

    "Yes, nothing. To make nothing appear in a place where something should exist." The nobleman''s voice grew tense, as if even speaking about it made the room feel colder. "The researcher''s notes mention experiments inside the Devfronds Forest. I need you to find the rest of the diary."

    Hawthorne chuckled, though it lacked any credibility. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to go into a creepy forest filled with powerful monsters just to find the rest of a diary from a guy trying to create... nothing?"

    The nobleman nodded, his face serious. "Exactly."

    "Well nobody makes a joke with that face in this setting." The bartender finally slid in, placing a fresh glass in front of Hawthorne. "You''d better get paid well for that one, mate."

    Hawthorne gave a light, genuine laugh after hearing the bartender. "Oh, I will. But I''m curious¡ªwhat do you plan on doing with this ''nothing'' once I find it?"

    The nobleman''s lips curled into a thin smile. "That''s none of your concern, Mr. Hawthorne."

    Hawthorne shrugged, finishing his drink. "Fair enough. But I''ll warn you¡ªnothing''s a dangerous thing to mess with. Literally." He wanted to laugh after he had said it, but the scenario didn''t exactly let him do that. "And what makes you think I can find it? Maybe I prefer to work with...

    something."

    "Your reputation speaks for itself," The nobleman reached into his coat and pulled out a small slip, he unfolded it. He reached inside and took out a pen, writing a bill of fifty sten. Which was a huge sum "Consider this... an advance."

    Hawthorne took the slip, looking for any spots of a counterfeit cheque. "You''ve got my attention. But tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do once I find this diary containing information about... Nothing?"

    "Bring it to me, of course," the nobleman said smoothly. "The contents are... valuable. More valuable than you can imagine."

    The bartender, who had now polished the glass to a state of near transparency, couldn''t help but join in. "Valuable how? I mean, you''re talking about nothing. Seems like a risky investment."

    The nobleman didn''t even glance at him. "Let''s just say that what this researcher discovered could change the very nature of ethercraft as we know it."

    Hawthorne sighed, setting his glass down. "Fine. I''ll take the job. But if I end up finding a whole lot of nothing, you''d better believe I''ll be charging double."

    The nobleman smiled. "I trust you''ll find more than nothing in the Devfronds Forest."

    With that, the nobleman stood, tipped his hat¡ªbecause that''s what fancy people do¡ªtook his cane, and left the tavern. Leaving Hawthorne alone with his thoughts... and the bartender, who had definitely polished that glass long enough.

    The bartender finally broke the silence. "You really think there''s something to this ''nothing'' business?"

    Hawthorne chuckled, finishing his beer. "I don''t know pal. But I''ve learned that when nobles or their knight families are involved, there''s always something. Even when they''re talking about nothing."

    The bartender shrugged. "Guess that''s one way to make a living. Chasing nothing."

    Hawthorne stood, tipping his hat to the bartender. "If only things were that simple. I''ve got a bad feeling about this. Hope I could see you again." He left after leaving some black-colored stones on the counter.

    "Thank you for your patronage," The bartender smiled as his last customer of the day left.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Let''s see..." Judge muttered to himself, placing his hand on the cold stone of the cave wall, specifically where ether wasn''t flowing. A frown formed on his face. His first instinct was to punch right through it¡ªbecause, let''s be honest, when in doubt, break things¡ªbut he held back. He had no clue what was causing the blockage, and breaking stuff blindly wouldn''t solve anything.

    He wasn''t that reckless. Yet.

    Judge sighed and ran his TPE hand along the rough surface. "Okay, no smashing. Not now."

    He decided to try a different approach¡ªsomething more scientific. Ethercraft was all about being creative, right? He focused, summoning the ether within him to scan the wall. His first attempt was¡­ well, let''s just say it didn''t go well. His mind buzzed like an overworked engine, but the wall remained as silent as a rock (because it was a rock).

    "Alright, maybe I need to tweak the principle," he mumbled. He tried again, channeling his ether a bit more carefully this time. For a moment, it seemed to be working. He felt a slight pulse beneath the surface¡ªalmost like the wall was hiding something. But just as he thought he was getting somewhere, the ether backfired, making his brain feel like it had been dunked in cold water.

    His vision blurred, and he stumbled.

    "Okay... note to self: this scanning thing is harder than it looks."

    Determined not to let the wall win, Judge took a deep breath and gave it one more go. This time, he concentrated, pushing the ether just right, like adjusting the volume on an old radio. Slowly, the wall seemed to reveal itself to him. There was something behind it. Something big.

    "I knew it," he grinned, feeling victorious. "It''s always the third try."

    With newfound confidence, he decided that maybe breaking the wall wasn''t such a bad idea after all. He stepped back and, using just a little bit of force (okay, maybe more than a little), shattered the wall with a burst of raw strength. Dust filled the air, and when it settled, Judge found himself staring into... a room.

    It wasn''t just any room. It was a full-blown steampunk office, complete with gears on the walls, pipes running across the ceiling, and stacks of paper everywhere, it''s just that the place seemed old¡ªvery old. The room looked like it belonged to someone who had either invented every gadget in the world or had severe hoarding issues.

    "Huh, not bad," Judge muttered, stepping inside. He immediately noticed that most of the papers were covered in wild scribbles. They looked important¡ªprobably notes from some genius researcher¡ªbut to Judge, it might as well have been the ramblings of a sleep-deprived toddler.

    "Let''s see if there''s anything useful here." He activated his new scanning ethercraft, determined to be more precise this time. The problem was, he had to focus a lot harder, and each second felt like his brain was being squeezed like a sponge.

    By the time he finished scanning the room, Judge was light-headed, his vision swimming. "So much for my theory of infinite Psyche while in the clone," he groaned, realizing that even his backup body had limits, because the soul moving the body was still his. "Good job, genius."

    Still, his efforts weren''t wasted. His scan revealed a suspiciously hidden compartment in the wall. Judge approached it, using a bit of force to force it open, and inside, he found a box.

    The box was small, and unremarkable. It looked like the kind of thing you''d find at the bottom of someone''s sock drawer, but Judge knew better. He opened it and found a pouch inside, filled with twenty-five small blue stones.

    He stared at the stones, unsure what they were. "Well, they look important... but I have no idea what they do."

    He shrugged and sent the stones into his Studio, where they''d be safe in his personal inventory. Better to store first, ask questions later.

    But that wasn''t all. As he rummaged through the box, Judge pulled out something else¡ªa book. At first glance, it looked boring. It had a plain cover, no title, nothing flashy. Just a regular, inconspicuous book.

    Judge flipped it open, and immedietly realized that it just half, or more. This one seemed like the latter half. "No wonder it had a plain cover and no title! I was looking at it from the back side." Eyebrows raised, he looked through the book. "And what secrets do you hold?" he muttered to himself, ready to uncover the next piece of the puzzle.

 Chapter 14 Disclaimer! This is NOT a Funny chapter

    Judge started to read the dairy from where it was torn, He was about to be dumbfounded after seeing the dairy being written in English. But his brain took a while to register the error.Day 1227:

    I have torn off the part when I was still in the capital, after all, my work cannot be wasted if I were to die after going to the forest, so I just hinted that I would head to Devfronds. The place should be perfect for research. We are packing up, Mina still won''t show me what she was researching on, but I am sure she would once she completes it.

    Day 1228:

    We have started our travels. Mina seems enthusiastic that she could go out after a long time. Her laugh just makes my day. I think Derebeth is getting too close to her. I would be happy if they loved each other, after all, I am confident that Derebeth would protect her. I would be proud as her father.

    But she seems a bit gloomy these days, I wonder why.

    ...

    Day 1231:

    The whole party entered Tross, the town just outside of Devfronds. The guards have warned us not to go too deep into the forest, as it won''t be easy to come out. I agree with them since I can''t put the whole party in danger. But Lyra says it would be fine even if we went inside, why is she so enthusiastic? Rey said something had come up with the dragons, so he left to check on them.

    Judge blinked. Then blinked again. The diary was written in two languages, one he did not know. The other one¡ª

    "Wait... hold up. Is this... English?!" His brain went into an overclock. "How... why...

    I''m in another world, reading a journal, and it''s in English? The same language I spoke in my past life? The very same one I used to order pizza at 3 AM and write angry emails to customer service?"

    His eyes scanned the page like a detective in a crime show trying to piece together a clue. "Okay, let''s not freak out here. Maybe I''m overthinking this... but seriously, why is this thing in English?"

    He leaned back, holding the journal at arm''s length, squinting at it. "Did the deity of stories just hand me this and say, ''Here you go, Judge, a little familiar language for your convenience. Have fun!''" He chuckled with an unhappy face, shaking his head. "Yeah, ''fun'' is the word here, right? How many stories have you read with this exact plotline?"

    He shook his head, his thoughts racing. "Wait, does that mean English existed in this world before? Or maybe the person who wrote this was from my world, too! Or... maybe it''s just magic. Yeah, magic.

    Classic magic answer. Just chalk it up to ether and call it a day."

    Still, a part of him couldn''t help but laugh. "Of course. I die, get sent to a new world, and instead of struggling to learn a new language, I stumble upon a journal written in perfect English. This world has jokes. Good one, but the plot is too overused."

    But still, he decided to read the rest¡ª

    Day 1248:

    Mina''s disease is acting up, and Lyra is missing, she isn''t picking up any signals. Rey was the only person who could treat her but Lyra was the only person who could call him. Derbeth had called in a priest, but things are looking bleak. She got the disease after starting that research of hers, she still wouldn''t tell me what it is, I hope she opens up to me soon.

    ...

    Day 1250:

    Mina is crying and thrashing in pain, I can''t watch it anymore, this pain in my heart, it hurts so much. I can''t watch her die. I should focus on my research to distract myself from this aching feeling. I heard the dragons have begun to destroy many parts of the continent, was this why Rey and Lyra left? S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ...

    Day 1256:

    Mina is dead, I don''t want to live anymore. But I have to complete my research, but how do I do it with a heart that aches so much? There is still no news from Rey and Lyra, and Derebeth have not been seen after her death. Maybe I should have talked to her before she passed, I regret not speaking to her, but that was my choice, so I can''t regret.

    ...

    Day 1260:

    I succeeded in erasing the pain, I have no more emotions, and my heart aches no more, why did they ban an ethercraft that was this good? It makes me wonder why I cried so much while Mina was dying. Now I can solely focus on my research.

    ...

    Day 1271:

    I have made it deep into the forest, the artifact with dimensional storage was said to eat slowly at your life. But I don''t need that much lifespan to complete my research, I can die after I complete it. I should start by creating a bunker. The monsters were not such a threat after the dragon''s rage.

    ...

    Day 1279:

    The bunker took more than a week to build, ether was convenient in many ways. Now I don''t have much time to spare, my years-long research should come to an end at least this time. I can feel the answer getting closer and closer.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, the rest of the contents were written only in English, and the neat handwriting was gone. It was giving him a horror movie vibe.

    Day 1280:

    I have made a huge discovery, the ethercraft of nothing should have made something disappear. But ether sure is a wonder, it comes to replace the place of nothing with ''something'', most probably air.

    Judge sighed, "What was this guy rambling on about, nothing and something, Haa! he has truly gone mad."

    Day 1281:

    I knew it, I created an artificial ether well, although it is small I think I may crack the code for using unlimited ether. I am so close, I need to finish my research as soon as possible.

    Day 1282:

    I coughed up some blood and I think I am nearing my time, I need to finish this fast.

    Yes! This is it, If I create a space of nothing, ether should go inside the space to recreate it, and I can continuously absorb it if I use this principle, since the ether I exude when I use ethercraft is returned to the world, and there is no shortage of ether whatsoever.

    Day 1283:

    I decided to experiment some more, And I finally found a perfect name for the ethercraft¡ª''Nihility'', which means the art of nothingness.

    Day 1284:

    This pain in my heart, why is it returning... Mina, my dear, I am sorry. I should''ve taken more care of you, why did you have to leave before me? You were the most talented researcher I''ve ever seen. Why did you have to go? I wish I could''ve heard your last words.

    ...

    Day 1290:

    I can feel it deep in my bones¡ªthe end, it''s closing in on me like a storm I can''t outrun. My body aches with each passing time, and my heart¡­ it''s heavy with all the things I should''ve done, the words I never spoke, the paths I was too scared to take. Regret? Yes, I''ve carried it with me, like a shadow that never left my side.

    But even now, as I face this final chapter, there is one thing I know: I do not regret the choices I made. Each mistake, each stumble, every wrong turn¡ªthey were mine. They were the moments that shaped me, that carved out my story in this vast, unforgiving world.

    And to you, whoever you are, reading these last words of mine¡ªplease, I beg you, don''t let regret consume you. Don''t let it gnaw at your soul, don''t let it steal the life still ahead of you. Every choice you make, no matter how heavy, no matter how wrong it might seem in hindsight¡ªlearn to hold it close, to let it breathe inside of you.

    Because these choices, these scars, they are what make you whole. They are your past that make you who you are. Embrace them, even if they burn. Live, even when it hurts.

    Think of the past as a valuable teacher. Learn from it, but don''t dwell on it. Use its lessons to guide you forward instead of letting it take up time and energy that could be better spent in the present.

    And for reading this far, I give you the principle of "Nihility, the art of nothing."

    -by Researcher Victor

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge closed the diary, feeling a heaviness settle over him. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. "Man... what a sad life. I mean, on one hand, this guy was brilliant. On the other hand, he lost everything and tried to cope by turning off his emotions.

    But in the end, he still felt the pain." He looked up with a sad face, "And that pain is also what makes us human... Victor."

    He shook his head. "If there''s one lesson here, it''s that ethercraft doesn''t fix everything. But hey, at least he cracked the code on ''nothingness'' before he went out." He was back to his normal, sarcastic self.

 Chapter 15 A casual stroll in the woods, with monsters as side characters

    Judge put away the diary of Victor, the slightly unhinged researcher. In his Studio, the contents were now secure. He couldn''t shake the feeling that if anyone else got their hands on it, he''d be missing out on... well, madness, probably. But still, it had value. Not to mention, it was almost 3:00 in the morning.With a heavy sigh, Judge returned to the Studio, switched places with his real body, and was back in his baby crib. "Ahhh, finally... That was one long day." He flopped down, pulling the tiny blanket over himself like it was a king''s robe. "I deserve a solid sleep after two entire days (nights) of...

    being in the forest." He thought of the diary mentioning about dragon''s destroying the continent, he was curious because his family represented the dragons, but there was no answer.

    Within seconds, he fell into the deepest sleep he''d had in¡ªwell, two damn days, give or take.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, Hawthorne was not having a good day, he had traveled all the way to Tross from the capital. His mission would need a thorough searching, but the forest was big. He gave himself a week to search ¡ªnothing¡ª before cutting his losses and leaving.

    He exited the gates of Tross and headed straight into the ominous forest of Devfronds. His black long coat billowed behind him, giving him that dramatic look he''d perfected over the years.

    And while his waistcoat glistened in the moonlight, what really caught the eye was the sleek armor underneath. Shining like new but worn like an old friend, it had seen its fair share of battles. A long sword without much width was hanging from his waist. An underarm holster held two handguns, perfectly polished.

    There was a handbag on the waist at the back, it must likely hold the bullets for the guns.

    All of his attires were telling, "I''m mysterious, rich, and powerful!". Not that Hawthorne cared about showing off. This wasn''t a stroll; this was a mission. So he had to take measures to ensure his safety. Even at the cost of being too mysterious.

    He ventured deeper into the forest, the eerie stillness interrupted by the occasional rustle. It wasn''t long before his peace was shattered by a low growl. Emerging from the shadows, a lower monster¡ªsomething vaguely resembling a big, angry badger¡ªblocked his path. It had the nerve to jump out like it was an encounter from Pokemon.

    Without hesitation, Hawthorne''s hand flew to the hilt of his sword. A swift, clean motion, and the beast was down before it could even register the sharp gust of wind that sliced through the air, it was a merciful and painless death. "Honestly, you''d think they''d know by now," he muttered, flicking his sword to rid it of any stray blood. Staining the wood and bushes red.

    He sheathed his sword and continued his march into the woods, He had a long way to go, he wondered how could a researcher get so deep into the woods. Even though going deep into the woods wasn''t mentioned in the diary, he had the skill to determine someone''s approximate location when he had something or someone close to them. The wind spirits were his friends.

    Hours and much more monsters later, deeper into the heart of Devfronds, the threats became more serious. A menacing presence loomed ahead¡ªmore than just another simple monster. Hawthorne''s steps slowed, and his senses heightened.

    It was time for real combat. He poised to strike, his sword at the ready.

    From the shadows emerged a pack of ferocious beasts, their sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. These weren''t your run-of-the-mill creatures. These were high-level monsters, the kind that you didn''t just stroll past on a midnight walk. They were classified as High Predators, one step closer to cataclysm-level monsters.

    The rankings for monsters were simple but effective: S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Menaces: The lowest threat level, often pests or nuisances. They might cause trouble, but they''re not typically lethal unless in large numbers or under unusual circumstances.

    Predators: Dangerous creatures that actively hunt and pose a significant threat. Skilled fighters, need caution when facing them, but they''re manageable with proper preparation and skill.

    Cataclysms: Extremely dangerous monsters that can wipe out small towns or villages. They often require groups of highly skilled individuals or battalions to bring down, posing a serious threat to entire regions.

    Catastrophes:The highest rank, representing world-altering threats. These monsters are capable of destroying entire cities or larger, and they''re almost impossible to defeat without massive coordinated efforts, typically requiring powerful and legendary fighters or divine intervention, which rarely happens.

    And all of these, except catastrophes and cataclysms, were again sorted into three¡ªlow, mid, and high.

    Hawthorne grinned, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. Embedded in its pommel was a crystal¡ªa catalyst¡ªa tool that stored ether from the environment, allowing him to fight longer without draining his own ether reserves. Catalysts were like a lifeblood to a mage when they were fighting. Without catalysts, mages would quickly burn through their own ether reserves.

    The air around him began to stir. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind sliced through the first beast, its body crumpling to the ground in an instant. The rest of the pack hesitated, making them be on their guard, now very careful of him. They growled and roared at him.

    Hawthorne advanced toward the others, his movements fast and calculated, like a true hunter. The wind swirled around him, sharp and deadly, but there was something else too. A faint crackle.

    Lightning flickered in the air, bolting between gusts of wind. As Hawthorne stepped forward, the air in front of him grew thick¡ªso thick, in fact, that his feet landed on nothing but condensed air. With each step, he walked higher, as if on invisible stairs. He moved like a predator of his own, walking on nothing as the monsters beneath him flailed in confusion.

    He was unmistakably a veteran in fighting.

    Another beast lunged at him, but before it could reach him, a bolt of electricity shot from his blade, zapping the creature in midair. It collapsed with a thud, its fur singed and smoking.

    The remaining beasts hesitated, unsure of whether to attack or flee. Their pride and thirst for revenge for their fallen comrades looming around the air.

    "Come on," Hawthorne taunted, his voice echoing in the wind. "You wanted this, right?"

    With a final, sweeping motion, he conjured a gale strong enough to send the last of the beasts flying back into the darkness from which they had come. Sharp air twisting and shredding them, sending blood everywhere as they were blasted back.

    Breathing heavily, Hawthorne lowered his sword. The fights till now had drained his catalyst, with almost about a quarter left, and he did not want to fight with the small amount of ether that was left in the catalyst, he knew about the danger the forest possessed, even with the all the ether he possessed, there was still a chance that he could die.

    The catalyst in his sword always absorbed some of the surrounding ether, but not enough to keep up with his relentless attacks. Most catalysts were self-sustainable that way, but the cheap ones were usually one-time use.

    He leaned against a tree, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Alright, that was¡­ fun," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. His body was exhausted, and even with the help of the catalyst, he knew he''d pushed himself too far, since he had been fighting all day.

    Suddenly, a loud screech pierced through the night, so sharp it made the very trees tremble. Hawthorne''s head snapped up toward the sky. He knew that sound.

    A giant, monstrous bird¡ªone that could only be described as a Sky Talon, he was sure that was its name, a Catastrophe-level creature¡ªwas soaring above him. Its enormous wings cast shadows over the trees, and its screech sent shivers down his spine. The blue moonlight making the creature even more magnificent.

    Hawthorne''s eyes narrowed as he watched it fly away. That screech wasn''t one of victory; it was a scream of retreat. And if a beast of that caliber was fleeing, it could only mean one thing: something¡ªor someone, had scared it off. Who or what kind of monster was capable of doing such a feat?

    His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but he hesitated. His ether was low, and even with a catalyst, he couldn''t take on whatever had spooked the Sky Talon in his current state.

    "Damn," he muttered under his breath, eyes still locked on the retreating figure of the bird. "I hate taking breaks when things get interesting."

    With a sigh, he climbed up a huge tree. Hiding his presence, he leaned back against the tree, forcing himself to relax. He''d investigate the cause of the bird''s retreat¡ªbut first, he needed to recover. Whatever scared off a Catastrophe-level beast was not something to face when running on empty ether reserve.

    He closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing his body to rest. "Alright, alright. Rest now, investigate later. Just... don''t get eaten in your sleep, Hawthorne."

    He had reached the proximity of his location, All he needed now was to search the area thoroughly. He glanced at a waterfall a little further away, that was where the bird flew up from, "I should look above the waterfall tomorrow, let''s look below the next day." He slowly slipped into sleep, still his guard up.

 Chapter 16 Lost in Translation: Dragon Lesson Edition

    Baby Judge was back in his mother''s arms as they walked into his parent stealer''s lesson room. But something was different today. Instead of the cute blonde elf Melina, there stood a man. And this guy definitely wasn''t family¡ªhe had horns and sharp ears, like he was trying way too hard to look cool.Also, he had a sword strapped to his waist and wore a long yellow coat that went down to his legs. The moment he saw Eleyn, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and bowed. Judge couldn''t understand a word the guy said. No subtitles, nothing. It was like being an anime fan in Japan, assuming everyone would magically speak in subtitles.

    "Please continue with the lessons, Mister Dosav," his mother said, Judge could now understand the language a lot better. "... Today... Lesson... Dragon Form" he only caught a few words, but one of them was "Dragon" and another was "form." That was all he needed to hear. Every last brain cell in his baby-sized head snapped to attention.

    Dragon form?!

    Dosav, the horned guy, launched into a lesson about transforming. Atleast that''s what Judge thought. He drew a diagram in the air using ether¡ªjust some glowing shapes that probably meant something deep. Dosav''s words floated around Judge''s head, most of them useless, but a few clicked. Dragons... True form¡­ tough bodies¡­ more ether¡­ more psyche¡­ far stronger than any other race.

    Okay, so dragons were basically walking tanks with magic overloads. Got it. Apparently, when they shifted into their dragon form, their bodies became incredibly tough, like trying to dent a castle wall with a spoon. Plus, they had so much ether and psyche that it was like they were born with cheat codes.

    But, as far as he understood, the transformation had risks. Not everyone could control it, and some could lose themselves to the dragon''s instincts and become a monster, if they over-exert their psyche and ether. He only pieced this information from the bits and pieces of the other guy (Dosav).

    So this theory of his was not reliable, but it was still good to keep in mind. "Great", Judge thought, "so it''s like puberty, but with claws and fire-breathing." He mentally noted it was probably better to wait before trying any dragon stunts himself, he understood almost nothing from today''s lesson.

    The lesson wrapped up, and Eleyn decided it was time for a change of scenery. She carried Judge around the mansion and finally to the training grounds, where his siblings were now practicing with swords. And wow, were they good? His brother and sister moved like they were born with blades in hand. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Each swing of their swords was so fast and precise that it looked like a dance. They weren''t just fighting; they were showing off, and it was awesome.

    Judge''s jaw practically hit the floor¡ªor, well, it would''ve if he weren''t still a baby. But inside, his admiration was off the charts. He could already imagine himself doing the same, someday. "Swords, dragon transformations, what''s next? Flying tanks?" He was genuinely questioning the worldbuilding.

    He found a newfound respect for his siblings, but he still did not trust them, "Maybe add them as my underlings when conquering the world?" He thought.

    By the time night rolled around, it was back to business. He switched with his adult clone in the Studio and reentered the forest. But this time, something was off. He could feel it¡ªthe presence of someone else in the room. "Oh great, just when I thought I could relax."

    His clone touched the rock wall and cautiously scanned the area. "Who''s intruding on my villain arc?" Judge muttered, scanning the room like a detective on a case. He wasn''t thrilled about this new twist.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Hawthorne finally found a place that could supposedly be the office of the ether researcher. He activated his search ability and searched every nook and cranny like a cat trying to find its toy.

    All he found was an empty box that he was sure held the dairy. He was suspicious when he found out the rock smashed inwards instead of cracking the locking mechanism that was there present. Someone has intruded the place, probably not many weeks have passed since the intrusion. Since there was no sign of ether, many days probably have passed.

    His mind raced towards the time when the Sky Talon was retreating, such a scary existence could break the hard stones without using ether. Did someone overhear them? Not probably since he never felt any presence.

    While lost in his thoughts, an unopened letter caught his eye, it was sold old but the fragrance still hadn''t faded. "It''s probably worth something," He said as he took it.

    He tore it open since nobody carries around a letter opener when on a hike to a dangerous forest that could kill you anytime. He took the letter out and was instantly hit with a strong fragrance. It was strong, but it was a soothing fragrance that made his body warm and put him at ease.

    It was so soothing, he could almost hear a soundtrack of harps playing in the background. All of his anger and sadness faded in an instant, the receiver must be very special to the sender if they send a letter using such powerful and unknown ethercrafts.

    He opened it and began to read¡ª

    Dear Dad,

    To the man who was always my guiding light, I write this with a heavy heart, knowing that my time is almost up. It breaks my heart to tell you this, but Rey and Lyra... they''re gone. Betrayed by those they trusted. It feels so unreal, doesn''t it? And Derebeth, he''s making that sad face again, I wish to do something to make him smile again, I wanted to see it one more time.

    Dad, I''ve kept something from you. I was researching eternal life, hoping to protect the ones I love, but it''s that very research that''s taken me away from you. It''s my fault, I know. I thought I was doing something important, but all I did was lose everything.

    Dad... I love you so much. I should have told you that more. I don''t think I said it enough while I had the chance. You were my light, my hero, my everything. You taught me how to be strong, how to never give up, and how to be patient when the world was against me.

    You showed me the wonders of ethercraft, but more than that, you showed me what it means to truly live.

    Please, Dad, don''t be disheartened when I''m gone. I want you to know that I''m leaving this world at peace, even though my heart aches at the thought of not seeing you again. If I could live another life, I would choose you as my father every single time. You gave me a life without regrets, and because of you, I can face death without any fear or regret.

    Thank you, Dad, for always being there, for always loving me, even when I didn''t say it enough. I wish I could hold you one last time, but know that I''ll be with you in spirit, always.

    And one last time, Dad, I really love you, please be at peace.

    -Your daughter, Mina.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The contents were quite emotional, but not for Hawthorne. What caught His eye was two words¡ª ''Eternal life''. He had heard it before. But he couldn''t dwell on it, since he could feel an extraordinary presence¡ªsomeone was outside the room.

    The person outside wasn''t coming in, just waiting... like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. And Hawthorne? Yeah, he was the mouse.

    But why was the person not coming in? The presence could kill him in an instant. He wanted to check, but his body was screaming at him to find an exit and escape. There was no way that he could beat the person, whoever it was.

    He decided to go towards the waiting presence, since he could never outrun it, even just walking took a lot out of him. He wanted to run but he couldn''t because even walking was an epic quest for him.

    He reached the small ether well outside, and there it was, a person wearing a white mask with a creepy smiling face, his dress was unfamiliar, but the style was familiar. He didn''t know what to think of the coat¡ªit looked... more modern?

    "Oh, who might you be?" The man asked, his voice was rich, deep, and commanding. "I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!."

    "I don''t know who you are but I don''t think that place belonged to you." Hawthorne tried to act brave. But he could barely stand up, he still did.

    "Use translation you weakling, I am not familiar with the tongue of you lesser beings." The man said in a serious tone, each word of his making Hawthorne feel the pressure. This being was definitely something very powerfull.

    Hawthorne used to be one of the strongest mercenaries out there, but an accident made him weaker, while he was still one of the strongest in ranks, he was now ranked among the lower ones of the strongest.

    But he could still put up a fight with anyone, It was not like him to not being able to fight under someone''s pressure, their will.

    He understood one thing, this person is really dangerous and not to be messed with. But his pride did not allow him to falter, he tried to stand up properly and started talking using translate.

 Chapter 17 Villain rule No 1: When in Doubt, Pretend You Know What Youre Doing

    Judge sensed someone in Victor''s office. Run back to the Studio like it was Black Friday and everything was 90% off. But then, suddenly, an imaginary light bulb (the brightest ever, obviously) flickered on above his head. He had on his usual white, smiley mask, but now, in a stroke of genius, he realized his outfit¡ªa full suit and tie¡ªwas next-level mysterious.He felt like he had just leveled up his villain game. Forget fashion trends; the world he was in hadn''t even invented suits yet. That made him, by default, the most mysterious and fashion-forward villain around.

    He stood there, thinking, "I probably look terrifying right now." He thought. "What screams ''strong villain'' more than a masked man with a suit no one understands, lurking in a monster-infested forest?" The answer was nothing. He was sure of it. Not the researcher''s nothing, but the actual nothing.

    His next move was obvious: scare the living daylights out of the guy inside by dragging him into the Studio. First underling? Check. Finally getting someone to sign one of those snazzy, borderline-evil scriptwriter contracts he''s been itching to use? Double-check. Get the guy to sign it, throw in some fine print, then sit back and watch the chaos unfold.

    The mask and suit added extra villain points. Obviously.

    So, Judge prepared to make his grand entrance. He was going to make an entrance so dramatic it would be talked about for generations. Something along the lines of, "Express your will..." Yeah, that''s what Miss Melina said. A person''s ''will'' was like their swaggering, soul-crushing aura, some say it is like a monarch''s presence.

    If intense enough, weaklings would be groveling at your feet. Heck, if you really overdid it, you could squish them like a bug (if they are that weak obviously). You know, just in case a dramatic entrance wasn''t enough.

    And hey, dragons have to be the best at this, right? Being the strongest race in existence, surely his will would be¡­ at least mildly terrifying? He closed his eyes, ready to feel that overpowering dragon presence. He focused on his mind, his soul, his inner dragon magic...

    And¡­ nothing. Absolutely nothing.

    What? Did you think he''d suddenly unlock his ultimate power just because the plot demanded it? Pfft. Mid-level power-ups don''t work like that! Judge was focusing so hard on summoning his presence that he could practically hear the deity of stories laughing her divine head off in the distance, probably rolling on some celestial floor, thoroughly enjoying his failure.

    "Of course, she''d find this hilarious," Judge muttered, shaking his head. "Can''t wait to add her to my hit list." (Although, if we''re being honest, she was only not on the list because she had helped him out before. But still.)

    Still, unbeknownst to Judge, his presence was already making waves¡ªliterally. Turns out, since he didn''t have a body, he was always radiating this intimidating aura like some kind of supernatural Wi-Fi signal, and his poor clone, stuck doing all the dirty work, couldn''t dial it down. So, while he was standing there trying to force out this ''scary villain debut'' moment, he had already succeeded.

    That was one reason the Sky Talon did not attack him with much stronger attacks, it was just beware of the existence in front of it.

    Hawthorne, inside, was struggling. Not just struggling¡ªgasping for air as if someone had thrown him into an invisible chokehold. His knees were buckling, his vision was blurring, and all he could think was, "Who is this demon in a fancy suit, and why does he want to kill me with just his existence?" (For the record, that''s not what he actually thought.)

    Meanwhile, Judge, still blissfully unaware that his mere presence was doing all the work, was mentally preparing his villain speech. "Okay, gotta sound cool. Don''t be too dramatic, but just dramatic enough. Maybe something like, ''So, you''ve found yourself at the mercy of a power far beyond your comprehension¡­'' No, too clich¨¦.

    ''Ah, I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!'' No, that sounds like I''m auditioning for a theater role."

    "Oh, who might you be?" He polished his voice and talked in a deep, rich, and commanding tone. "I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!" Nailed it. The guy practically fell to his knees. Judge thought, "Wow, my speech really did the trick!"¡ªcompletely ignoring the fact that it was his unintentional presence aura causing the reaction. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The man said something in a foreign tongue. But Judge being him, did not understand it. He thought of what to say next, "Ugh, what now?" Judge groaned internally. But he couldn''t break character. In his best ''villain trying too hard'' voice, he commanded, "Use translation, you weakling! I am not familiar with the tongue of you lesser beings!" perfect...

    or maybe not.

    Why did I say it like that? Judge instantly regretted the line. Why did he sound like a bad community theater actor? He was ashamed of himself, he wanted to cover his face and hide behind a wall, and his face was already covered. The man was trying his hard to get up, did his embarrassing act fail to keep up his villain image? Judge was ready to transport both of them to his Studio.

    "I am Hawthorne. Who are you?" Hawthorne Said in a demanding tone. His voice faltering.

    "I am..." Judge held up both his hands in a T-pose. He transferred both of them into the Studio. That was the cherry on top. Man! he thought, that was perfect. down to the last drop.

    Immediately after reaching the studio, he covered his real body with fog, making Hawthorne unable to see the face of the original. "I am just an underling of his majesty." he finished his grand show.

    Hawthorne was bewildered. There were a few known principles for teleporting, all of them took a few moments before teleporting, but this was instantaneous. Even the known principles had its flaws, either they require a huge amount of psyche due to the complexity of principle, or they require a huge amount of ether due to the principle literally trying to fold space.

    And if this guy, the one who did instant teleportation, was just the underling, what kind of terrifying boss did he serve? His mind was racing with questions.

    After telling what he had to say, he sat on a high backrest chair near the long marble table that he created on the first day in the studio. He the chair created by adding in some smoke for some effects. He bowed to his real self before sitting and transferring his soul back.

    "So!" He started speaking in his original body, "Who might this mortal be." Judge was trying his hard to look more domineering¡ªwell, Hawthorne can''t really see him due to the fog, but still.

    He made an identical mask to that of a cameraman, and put it on. Clearing the fog to reveal his masked, mysterious face. Hawthorne was stunned. What was this? He was somewhat expecting a monster, but instead, he got... this guy?

    Hawthorne was eyeing Clone-Judge to explain why he was here, but the one who spoke was the boss. "So, Tell me Mr. Hawthorne," Judge said, crossing his fingers, "what was your business inside my underling''s personal space?"

    Hawthorne, meanwhile, was contemplating every decision that had led him to this point. He had accepted a suspicious mission to find a diary about nothing and had now he had stepped on a landmine that was judging him to decide whether to explode or let him live.

 Chapter 18 When In Doubt, Add More Dramatic Pauses

    Judge could feel the tension radiating from Hawthorne, the poor guy practically sweating bullets under his mask of composure. Ah, yes, perfect, Judge thought. This is what villainy is all about, making people squirm without lifting a finger.He sat back, crossing his arms, trying to exude a vibe that said I know everything about you, when in fact, he had no clue what Hawthorne was even doing inside the researcher''s office. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "So, tell me, Mister Hawthorne." Judge was trying too hard to sound domineering. He lowered his voice just enough to sound ominous¡ªwell, he hoped it was ominous and not just like he was about to read bedtime stories. "what was your business inside my underling''s personal space?" He wanted to pat himself on the back for his Theatrical and terrifying performance¡ª10/10 delivery.

    but that would have to wait.

    Hawthorne was definitely frying his brain on how to respond. He was, no doubt, scared of the entity. But his pride won''t allow him to just act as if he is scared.

    Finally, he decided to be humble but not act scared. He held his hat on his chest and gave a slight, polite bow. "I was just searching for a diary, sorry if I intruded upon the place of your servant." Hawthorn stayed in the bowing position without anyone talking, like he was waiting for a royal knighting, but mostly just trying not to tremble.

    He could feel that he was being observed by the person on the throne, but he did not dare to raise his head.

    Judge was contemplating on what to say to the person in front of him. If he wanted to a person to do as he wanted, he needed to know more of the person. And the information was exactly what he lacked. So he needed to know more about Hawthorne, but how?

    He thought a bit and a lightbulb flickered in his mind. Of course! Play it cool, ask the right questions, and pretend like you''ve known what''s going on the whole time! He prepared to take it up a notch in his villainous performance.

    He cleared his throat and decided to ask him in a commanding tone. The tone that had the best possibility of success. "I am curious," Judge said, his acting was commendable. Years of grinding trying to take control of the cooperate industries required a good grasp of many things.

    "Why were you searching for a diary," He paused for dramatic effect, mentally congratulating himself on the perfectly timed silence. Then he smirked¡ªwell, he imagined smirking, because the mask was doing all the work. "Did you, perhaps, find parts of Victor''s torn diary...?"

    He let the silence build again, this time turning the tension meter all the way up. The tension in the air was so thick that it could have been sliced with a butter knife. Hawthorne looked up slightly, clearly surprised, his eyes wide, as Judge leaned in for the kicker.

    "A diary," Judge said slowly, making sure every word reached his ears, "about... nothing?"

    Just as he had expected, Hawthorne stood there, paralyzed. He was like a low-end CPU that was trying hard to process a huge load of information and lagging the system. Ok! I this, if I just push this a little more. He was about to speak, but Hawthorne spoke in a dazed manner.

    "Who are you?" Hawthorn asked the first question that came to his mind. He was also wondering why the servant never spoke a single word all this time, but he had greater issues to think about.

    Judge, of course, had been waiting for this moment. Oh, yes, the perfect setup. He straightened up dramatically, making sure the invisible spotlight was on him. "Oh me?" he began, pausing for maximum effect. "I am the narrator of untold stories." He threw in a dramatic hand gesture, the kind you''d see in a theater production right before the villain breaks into a monologue.

    "Call me..." A dramatic pause (again), this time really dragging it out for the weight, "...The Cameraman."

    There it was. Perfection. He could practically hear the applause in his head. If there was an award for most theatrical villain reveals, he''d be giving the acceptance speech right about now.

    He did not stop there, he needed to make himself appear more powerful. Theatrics were just the beginning. He snapped his fingers and, in an instant, transported Hawthorne to a chair opposite his clone. The table appeared, and the chair was, of course, grand and intimidating¡ªjust like a proper villain''s chair should be. "Please take a seat."

    Haw was still skeptical about the whole scene, but he still sat down because he still had his survival instincts active. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, but he wasn''t about to let his guard down.

    "Now! Answer me, why were you seeking the diary?"

    Hawthorne, still holding on to what remained of his self-esteem, sat up straight. He started to answer honestly, but he also wasn''t stupid. "I was commissioned by someone who found the diary," he admitted. "I don''t know the specifics, just that it contains information about an ethercraft related to nothing."

    Judge acted as if he was thinking for a bit, but he had already thought of what to say next. "I see," Judge said, giving Hawthorn an illusion of deep consideration. Then, with a slow nod, he dropped the bait. "I shall give you the diary... but what would you give me in return?"

    Hawthorne blinked. He''d expected some grand demand, not this vague, open-ended question. "Please do tell me what you need," he said cautiously. "I cannot possibly know what someone of your existence would require."

    Judge laughed and created a white mask identical to the one he was wearing. "Join ''The recorders''. " He had laid out the base, now, all he needed was for the pray to take the bait and fall into his trap.

    "What is the recorders?" Hawthorne Took the bait. Judge smiled creepily under his mask, the creepiest smile a villain can give, and the creepy mask he was wearing was not as creepy as his current illegal face.

 Chapter 19 The Art of Pretending You Have Everything Under Control

    Judge was always a mastermind behind the curtain in his previous life, which partially contributed to his trust being given only to Seo Jun. But that fragile trust was now broken because of a bottle of warm and tasty wine, and his trust was now solely being carried by his mother and father.As for Hawthorne? "What on earth do I do with this guy?" He still did not know enough of Hawthorn to determine a surefire way to make him his underling. But he knew enough to form a solid plan. His current hypothesis about Hawthorn was that he was a mercenary, and a good one at that¡ªjust one with a bit too much self-esteem for his own good.

    Hawthorne, meanwhile, was grilling his brain like a poorly supervised barbecue. "What is ''the recorders''?" he asked, obliviously walking right into Judge''s trap.

    Bingo. The exact question Judge had been waiting for.

    "We are a group of beings that record stories of the world," Judge explained dramatically, and proceeded to summon a scriptwriter contract in front of Hawthorne, because that was the most appropriate time to send a contract.

    Hawthorne, for his part, was busy melting his mental circuits trying to figure out how Judge kept summoning stuff like chairs and papers out of thin air. Was it teleportation? Magic? Really elaborate sleight of hand?

    "I will give you an offer." Judge declared, starting to descend the absurdly long staircase. why did I make them stairs so long, "If you work as a recorder, I shall provide you with power." Judge knew Hawthorne''s type¡ªa guy with an inferiority complex so large it could have its own postal code. Naturally, he was hungry for strength.

    Hawthorne was still uncertain, the guy had an ego the size of a small continent. He never wished to serve under someone, but the intimidating presence of The cameraman, who was now near him, was pressing him to sign the contract. He never felt the will of Cameraman''s servant, that was only his current relief.

    If he was honest, he was a little convinced by the ''I shall provide you with power'' part. He had his unending pride, but working under someone''s command wasn''t his style. If anything, he was more the "make others work for me" kind of guy.

    Judge knew really well about people with pride, so he quickly needed to crush his pride before he started overthinking. "Of course, it is entirely up to you, I will not be forcing anyone, but do note that I don''t have the time for weaklings like you a second time."

    Cue an internal evil laugh. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge was clear on what he intended, he would not give any second chances. Now all that was left was for Hawthorn to agree.

    Hawthorn took the stack of papers on the table, hoping to have some kind of answers. But as soon as he touched the stack, all but one appeared. It was a blank paper, confusing Hawthorne on the paper''s purpose. But before he could start panicking, black ink began to materialize on the paper, as if someone were writing with an invisible pen.

    Wasting no time, Hawthorne began to read it. Surprisingly, he could read the words even though they were really small.

    Soon, his face went from curious all the way to terrified. The contents written in the paper were his own information in detail.

    Hawthorne, 34, Gold-ranked mercenary, single.

    Currently lives in the capital city of Redera, street...

    Previously resided places were...

    The scare he got from the paper was not enough to convince him. "What kind of life will I have after I work under you, is there something like a contract?" He was used to having a more clear contract.

    Judge, now back on his overly dramatic throne, pointed silently at the paper, as if to say "Uh, duh, it''s right there."

    Meanwhile, inside Judge''s mind: Wait, did I even write a contract? No, right? Oh crap, what was he reading?

    Judge was thinking hard, his EC enabled, on what to do, he thought of many plans on what to do with his oversight, he had put his hopes on a skill he had never used before. He decided to do plan B¡ª act as if he knew everything and deal with whatever came next. Making mistakes is a part of the process.

    But it was still embarrassing to call himself a professional at manipulation, it made him wonder just how he had sat on the corporate throne in his previous life.

    Hawthorne proceeded curiously to check if he had missed something in the contract. And surprise, the contents have changed (Judge, in fact, did not know of this). It displayed something else¡ª

    Party 1 - The Cameraman

    Party 2 - Viktor Ravensworth, (Alias - Hawthorne)

    Judge was (genuinely) surprised to see Hawthorne reading the paper again as if he had missed some points. And was even more surprised to find Hawthorne''s pale face, it was as if he had seen a terrifying ghost.

    The man looked like he''d just seen the ghost of every bad decision he''d ever made. The paper had clearly spooked him, but Judge? Judge was even more spooked because he had no idea what was going on either.

    Still, like any good manipulator, he kept quiet and let Hawthorne''s imagination do the heavy lifting, acting as if he had anticipated the outcome.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In a dark prison corridor, there are no spaces to let natural light in, it seems to be underground. A red-haired figure was descending a flight of stairs, slowly, but elegantly. He put down his hood, which was doing a bad job covering his head.

    The face of the figure became clear, it was Judge''s Father. He stopped in front of a wooden ornate door. He motioned the knight near him to keep watch as he entered the room.

    There was another red-haired man inside it. But he was tied up in a chain that exuded deep blue color. His hands and feet were tied together, while there was a collar on his neck that was attached to two deep blue, crystal pillars on the side. On the ground, there was a big circular marking with many runes and patterns, it looked like a ritualistic mark for imprisonment.

    The person who was in chains in the middle of the circle, he was also Judge''s Father.

    "How''s the stay Master Alex Drakonis." The person who just entered the room put his hands on his face, gripped it, and pulled. A mask came off, a white, slimy, and disgusting substance was clinging on the mask and his face like an unhardened glue on two sheets of paper.

    His red hair turned black and his golden eyes turned into a brown one, he had a scar across one of his eyes. He had a creepy smile which, unlike Judge, actually screamed "Villain".

 Chapter 20 Signing a contract, except you dont know the terms and conditions

    Judge sat silently on his throne, trying to figure out what in the Ether had just happened. Hawthorne had signed the contract so fast it was as if his life depended on it. It was almost like the guy was playing in the finals of a major soccer tournament, staring at Judge as if he''d just pulled off the most miraculous penalty shootout in history. Judge, for once, was genuinely confused.Was it the blank paper? The weirdly invasive bio? Did I accidentally summon a jump scare?

    Regardless, he couldn''t let this moment slip by. The show must go on. His acting should never falter, if it did, everything he had built up to the moment will be gone.

    Judge straightened up, the suit adding an extra touch for a dramatic scene¡ªat least, that''s what he hoped it did, because he needed all the spotlight right now. His mask was working overtime to look both mysterious and domineering. With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand. A ripple of dark energy surged through the room, swirling like a magician about to pull off his greatest trick.

    "Now that you''ve signed the contract, you are no longer the man you once were," Judge said, his voice low and commanding. He waved his hand, summoning a mask identical to his own, dark and menacing, floating in midair like it was waiting for a dramatic soundtrack.

    Hawthorne stared at it, eyes wide and unsure if this was part of the initiation or a particularly intense escape room challenge. Hawthorns reaction now was very different from his older, prideful self.

    Judge stood up¡ªoh no, the stairs again¡ªand started to descend, making each step echo as if it were counting down to some epic reveal. He reached the bottom, reached out his hand, and grabbed the mask, holding it high above his head as if it were the holy grail of awkward moments.

    "I hereby bestow upon you this mask," Judge declared with all the gravitas of a theater actor performing Hamlet on opening night. " As long as you are wearing this mask, you shall take on the mantle of¡­" Dramatic pause for effect, a good drumroll would''ve been nice here "¡­Lucifer, the Sin of Pride!"

    There was silence, save for the imaginary dramatic music Judge was playing in his head. The air was heavy with tension¡ªor maybe that was just the awkwardness. Hard to tell.

    Hawthorne blinked. "Lucifer? The Sin of¡­ Pride?" Hawthorn''s reaction was not what Judge had intended, but he decided not to think too much of failures. Not everything goes according to plan.

    "Yes," Judge said, doing his best impression of someone who definitely planned this all along. "Pride is your strength, and now it is also your name. You are Lucifer."

    Hawthorne stood up slowly, his brain still trying to process what was happening. Pride, huh? Well, could be worse. I could''ve been ''Envy'' or something. After his fall from the top, he had been envious of everyone who possessed more power than him, which resulted in his prideful attitude.

    Judge, determined to ride the wave of tension and avoid any awkward derailment, placed the mask into Hawthorne''s hands, as if passing on a sacred relic. "Wear this, and you will be one of the Seven Sins, part of a legacy that shapes the world. Your pride is now your power, your sin...your strength."

    Hawthorne took the mask, looking at it as though it held the secrets to the universe¡ªor at least a really intense game of charades. The weight of it seemed symbolic, though he couldn''t shake the feeling that Judge was enjoying this a bit too much.

    "And now," Judge continued, "we begin your journey as my trusted right hand. Lucifer, Sin of Pride, rise and embrace your new identity." He was feeling super cringey but he decided to go with it. He felt as if it would be a theatrical performance but it seems he was wrong.

    With a dramatic flourish (because of course), Judge waved his arm, and a gust of wind somehow swept through the room, ruffling Hawthorne''s clothes and probably giving him more dramatic flair than he ever thought possible.

    Hawthorne¡ªno, Lucifer now¡ªstood up tall, putting the mask on his face, looking as regal and intimidating as he could, considering he had no idea what he''d just gotten himself into.

    "What shall I call you, oh master whom I serve." His prideful attitude had all gone. Replaced by fear and ( a little bit) respect for the entity in front of him. He knelt in front of Judge, his arms on his knees.

    "You may address me as the Recorder" Judge said, snapping his fingers. A torn dairy appeared in front of (now) Lucifer. Which he took and got up, ready to head back. "May I go back, Master Recorder?"

    "Drop the master part."

    "Recorder"

    "Sir Recorder" Judge corrected him.

    "Yes, Sir Recorder" He bowed again, waiting for Judge to transport him back.

    Judge lifted his hand to snap, "Make sure nobody knows that Hawthorn is Lucifer."

    "Yes, Sir" Hawthorn vanished as Judge snapped his fingers. He let out a sigh, the performance was really tiring. He just teleported back to his throne and sat on it. He still had some time left before teleporting back to his house.

    He decided to go back early to bed, because (Believe it or not) he was still a baby. Studies show that babies take time to grow up. And he needed time before he was all grown up. And his father was still nowhere to be seen. His trust in the capabilities of his father was the only thing that kept him at ease. But did the knight that went with him do something? S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He could only trust his father but not the knight.

    Just as he was about to head back, he saw a blue flash above on the air, he knew who the uninvited guest was, but he did not hate her presence.

 Chapter 21 Deity lessons for the mastermind of silly mistakes

    The blue light flashed a woman into existence. She was floating in the air, pushing gravity aside like it was a child throwing a tantrum. Ah yes, magic, thought Judge, the ''hold my drink'' of science in fantasy worlds. I mean, magic can really do wonders.The deity of stories slowly descended with the same, warm smile she always had when seeing him. If Judge was honest, he found her presence very welcoming, maybe because she had the same appearance as his mother, but her smile always managed to annoy him somehow. Let''s be real, who likes that constant smile? Ugh. It was like living with a motivational poster that never shuts up.

    "What are you up to now?" He asked in the most annoyed tone possible. While he liked her, his distrust was still stopping him from being the nice guy. Kindness always results in others taking advantage of you, Judge knew that very well, almost too well.

    Trust was the most fragile thing for Judge, and this deity¡ªdespite looking like the world''s sweetest mom¡ªwas on the same level as those shady street vendors who promise the best knockoff magic potions.

    Deity finally descended in front of him, "I just wanted to congratulate you on your first recruit." She clapped her hands together. "I thought I needed to explain more about the skills for you, but you are managing to figure things out."

    "Figure what out?" Judge removed his mask, and he had a doubtful expression on his face. His eyebrows raised like he just heard someone say they preferred pineapple on pizza.

    "Many things, well for starters" She put her index finger on her chin to make a thoughtful expression, "That the contract will only be accepted if you are capable of providing your side of the bargain." She proceeded to summon a box full of popcorn and a throne to sit on. The scene now looked like some weird reality show about an awkward debate between two monarchs.

    Next on ''Real Gods of Fantasy Worlds¡­''

    "You mean I can actually provide him with power?" Judge was as surprised as a kid who found out that Santa Claus wasn''t real. It wasn''t a great day for him either when he found out the truth about presents.

    "Huh!? Fo hiffin fou?!" (Translation: "You didn''t know?!") Her mouth was stuffed with popcorn, and it was at this exact moment Judge started to wonder why he was the one being reborn to do all the serious work.

    She was feeling really comfortable with her clumsy personality in front of Judge. Leaving him to wonder just how was the person who came after him as the next cameraman able to speak to her respectfully, maybe she was lying about Judge being the only one disrespectful to her.

    "What do you mean I didn''t know? I was planning to crush his ego completely, that was the only thing between his pride and being my underling. And I never even once thought of giving power."

    The deity swallowed the popcorn. "Well, I must tell you, the only the scriptwriter contract would only work if you are able to provide what you offered. Meaning you can and will, provide Viktor Ravensworth, AKA Hawthorne with the power he needs. The time period isn''t mentioned, so of course, you got a lot of time.

    Judge was the type who hated info dumps, but this had the word IMPORTANT written inside two quotation marks. So obviously this was an important material (well duh!). He didn''t even hear her speak Hawthorne''s real name (Well he heard it but he didn''t actually gave it any importance).

    "So you mean, I will provide him with the power he needs eventually?"

    "Last time I checked, that was exactly what I said." She was starting to piss him off. Judge couldn''t shake the feeling that she was just like a mirror image of him in terms of personality. Maybe she also took on his personality just like she took his mother''s form.

    "So," Judge was trying his hard to ignore her nonchalant attitude, he was having the most important info dump in his life and she was just like as attentive as a toddler in a maths class.

    "Are there any other things you left out?" Judge immediately regretted what he said after seeing the deity''s eyes full of pity.

    "Don''t tell me you don''t know that you can give part of your power to anyone you have had a scriptwriter contract." His surprised face was all she needed to verify that he had, indeed, no idea such a function existed. She gave a sigh mothers give when their children just made them extra work, "Let me guess. You never read the backside of the script."

    "There was a backside?!" Judge was about to have an existential crisis, he felt like a defeated man. Why was he reborn anyway, to see his parents? What would his parents say if they learned that their son was a huge cosmic failure of a man? (Or child, whatever)

    "Haa, that''s why I told you to double check." She put her hand on her head, and gave another deep sigh. "Now LISTEN carefully, I will explain about the skills you chose. I don''t want to explain this again, so don''t make me repeat it."

    "I am all ears."

    "So first, the studio. You create a separate space on your own, everything from manipulating it, to going inside your personal studio requires ether. Another thing about studio is that you can expel anything out of the dimension that you have created inside it, but it requires a whole load of ether."

    Judge thought how he had just teleported his clone outside and also teleported to it, he must have a huge reserve of ether, perks of being a dragon, he thought.

    "Second would be the scriptwriter contract. What it does is that, the people who have already signed the contract will always act according to your script in a given scenario. They won''t even realize they''re doing it¡ªit''s all natural. Not mind control, just¡­ plot manipulation."

    Judge smirked. Okay, so I''m basically a puppet master. Nice. That was the extent of what he knew about the skill and its effects.

    "There is more to it, you can actually share your thoughts, ether, and other powers through the connection between you and the contracted. Meaning you are both linked"

    Judge''s smirk faded. Linked? He hadn''t even considered the possibility of creating a little magical Wi-Fi network with his underlings. Great. More responsibilities.

    "I don''t think there is a need to explain about your Enhanced Cognition, That one was actually written in bold on the front side of the scroll, and it only had one side written"

    "Is that everything?" It was Judge''s first time sitting through an entire load of info dumping.

    "For now." She said as she finished her popcorn, "Aah I forgot to tell one thing."

    "I knew it" Judge sat upright for the next infodumping.

    "Its nothing much, I just really enjoyed your story about a brave man fighting the Sky Talon." She smirked, "You know, the bird you fought." She let out a huge laugh that she couldn''t hold in.

    S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 22 Why Do Dragons Need Swords? Asking for a Terrified Baby

    The deity''s smile was like a warm cup of tea¡ªsoothing, but getting on his nerves at the same time. "Before I go," she began, her tone so nonchalant it felt like she was about to drop another bombshell, "I want you to know that I''ve been helping you understand more about what you''d encounter next. Every day, at that.""What do you mean?"

    "Don''t tell me you never found it suspicious that the lessons you got from Melina and Dosav were crucial pieces of information you needed just before the night you went to the forest. And also before making that doll of yours".

    "Aah, so it was you. I did find it suspicious but I just did not think hard about it." He was speaking the truth but he somehow got the feeling that the deity did not believe him.

    Call me Clio from now on," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "And remember, whatever happens next, you can achieve what you desire if you put your heart into it."

    And with that cryptic one-liner, she disappeared in a flash of blue light, leaving Judge staring at the spot where she''d been.

    "Huh?!"

    There was something ominous in her parting words, like a bad fortune cookie. He couldn''t quite put his finger on it, but it left him feeling like he''d forgotten to study for an exam he didn''t know was happening. But he still hoped for the best.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Despite the mountain of info dumped on him that night, Judge was out like a light as soon as he hit the crib. Turns out, even masterminds need their beauty sleep, especially when they''re stuck in baby bodies (remember, he is still a baby). Science says babies sleep more than adults, but honestly, no one tells you how hard it is when your tiny body demands 16 hours of shut-eye.

    Morning came way too soon with the most annoying sunrise he''d ever had, he was really exhausted and it was difficult to wake up, and the sunlight wasn''t making it any easy for his poor toddler muscle build, like the sun was personally offended by how hard Judge was trying to sleep.

    But morning bath maids did not show his weak body any mercy as they scrubbed every nook and cranny, leaving him spotless. Not that he was any dirty before the bath, the whole mansion was as clean as a newly printed dollar, straight out of the treasury.

    Today was a bit different, his bath was finished quickly, and his dressing was done in a haste. Were they running late for a morning flight and had to rush? Do dragons even ride planes?

    But his thoughts were interrupted by his mother who seemed to be in no rush unlike the maids, but her face was full of worry. Must be something related to Dad, He made an educated guess. His father was nowhere to be seen for the past few days.

    His mother leaned forward as soon as she was out on the hall. Oh no! No no no! Judge knew where this was going, and he was not ready to travel lightspeed in a dragon''s arm. His baby body was not ready to handle that again. He was pretty sure physics didn''t allow for this, but who was he to question dragon mom logic?

    Eleyn (his mother) took off, air cracking around her as she moved, the surrounding turned to a blur as she passed by.

    She stopped on front of the patriarch''s office, the air swirling around where she stopped. Judge still didn''t understand how the mansion was still in one piece.

    Eleyn entered Judge''s Grandfather''s office with him in her arms. He was still a newborn, and she was not treating him like a fragile toy that would break at the slightest touch. So something was going on in her mind that was putting her mind in a state of unrest. This was making Judge really worry about his father.

    His grandfather was holding the sphere he had previously used to teleport them into a gazebo. But this time, he was putting the sphere inside a circular hole on his sword. Judge could see ether particles circulating on the glistening silver-colored blade, making it shimmer brightly.

    He was surprised that it was not made of gold, maybe it was because gold wasn''t the best choice when it came to making weapons.

    His Mother said something to his grandfather. Which, while he only understood a little, he managed to piece together the information in the way he thought was the most accurate. "Father, where did you keep my catalyst?"

    His grandfather said nothing to answer, but he pointed at a gold ornate (yes gold), black wooden box sitting on one of his shelves. His mother extended her hand towards the box and it was opened automatically, revealing a deep red wand, it had a wooden texture.

    The wand was a fine piece of craftsmanship, the design was simple yet captivating. There was a purple gem on the end of the handle, the hilt was shaped like a flower. The shaft had a beautiful curved pattern.

    It didn''t take long for Judge to figure out what was happening, they were getting ready for a fight. But who would wage a fight against the oh-so-mighty dragons? He couldn''t shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

    Judge remembered what the deity had said the previous night, he calmed his mind, thinking it would be alright. After all, he had seen his mother sprint a long distance with lightning speed, and with him in her hands. She was obviously strong.

    His mother summoned the floating wand towards her, his grandfather said something to the knights present. Judge concluded it as an order since he had a commanding tone. His mother waved her wand, creating a pouch made of fire.

    "Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Judge looked at his mother, concerned about his own well-being.

    She put him in the fire pouch, "I knew it," Judge cried, looking at his mother as if she just betrayed him. But contrary to his fearful expectations, the pouch was warm and comforting, almost too comforting that he fell asleep as soon as he was put in, and he had only just woken up. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 23 A cinematic battle, but the cameraman is asleep

    Judge''s world had gone quiet with the most comforting and peaceful sleep he had ever got. But in the outside world, hell was breaking loose. The whole city was in a state of unrest. It happened suddenly while the whole family was deciding to go on a trip, though it had been postponed by one day due to Eleyn''s request.Now it was a good thing they didn''t leave, someone had planned to do this while they were away.

    "Judge is safe inside the Phoenix egg, Father," Eleyn said calmly to her father-in-law. Who stood with his sword drawn, his golden eyes fixed on the chaos beyond the mansion. Despite the situation, her voice was steady, though it was clear from the way she clenched her wand that she was ready to torch anyone who dared get too close to her son.

    Amber and Liam had gone off to Eleyn''s house, which was the royal palace. So she didn''t have to worry about both of her other children.

    The town was in absolute turmoil. Cultists¡ªwho, by all reasonable standards, should have picked an easier target¡ªhad decided to try to bring down an entire dragon-built city. These maniacs had been plotting this for years, apparently, and their plan was finally in motion.

    Fires raged, buildings crumbled, and terrifying ethercraft explosions lit up the sky like it was some sort of twisted holiday celebration''s firework show.

    Being able to destroy a town built by dragons and guarded by dragons wasn''t exactly something you could pull off overnight. These cultists had been meticulous, but they had underestimated the dragons as a species if they thought they could destroy a single one of any dragon''s city.

    Eleyn was now outside the mansion''s walls, with the egg floating close by (yes the one with Judge, imagine being born normally and having to be born again from an egg).

    She was clearly not liking the firework display in the least, she was now itching to put on another firework show, but this time with her enemies'' heads.

    Her fiery ethercraft literally burned the air around her as she watched the chaos unfold. But before she could launch into her usual "scorch first, ask questions later" routine, Melina, the ever-composed elf tutor, hurried towards her, looking more annoyed than frightened, she knew Eleyn well.

    "Why is teleporting blocked, is there a principle that blocks it?" Melina asked, her voice tight as she sidestepped a falling chunk of what used to be a dragon statue.

    Eleyn sighed as though she were explaining basic arithmetic to a child. "I don''t know of such a principle, but!" she began, her words dripping with forced patience, "the cult has set up an anti-teleportation barrier with some artifact. We need to get outside the barrier to escape.

    Or," she added with a glint in her eye, "we could just destroy the artifact and make this easier for others and let them be at ease."

    Melina raised a brow, her fingers twitching ever so slightly as she considered the prospect. Destroying things was kind of her specialty, after all. Her ethercraft wasn''t flashy, like Eleyn''s.

    She didn''t throw around fireballs or make the air crackle with raw energy. No, Melina''s principle for her signature ethercraft worked on an atomic level, taking apart anything¡ªstone, metal, bone, even ether constructs¡ªpiece by microscopic piece, until it was nothing but dust. Still, it wasn''t working on living things.

    Where Eleyn was a roaring inferno, Melina was quiet devastation. Together, they were about to become the nightmare of these idiotic cultists.

    Just as they were about to move, a group of robed cultists appeared at the edge of the courtyard, their leader holding a staff that crackled with dark energy. They looked like they were gearing up for some evil monologue, probably something about how they were going to cleanse the world or ascend to godhood.

    Eleyn, however, was not in the mood for speeches. "I''ll handle the cannon fodder. You find the artifact," she said to Melina, already summoning flames that danced eagerly at her fingertips. "Let''s get this over with."

    The cult leader raised his staff and began casting something ominous, but he didn''t get very far. Eleyn, who wasn''t big on waiting for her enemies to finish their spells, shot a blazing fireball at him so fast that it interrupted his chant mid-sentence. The man didn''t even have time to scream before he was engulfed in flames.

    That seemed to jolt the other cultists into action. They charged, shouting about their god and their ultimate victory, but Eleyn was already moving. Flames spiraled around her, forming deadly arcs that swept through the courtyard, incinerating anyone who got too close.

    Her ethercraft was pure, raw destruction, and yet there was a beauty to how she wielded it, like a dancer commanding the flames in a deadly waltz. Buildings that had stood for centuries would crumble if the fire scorched their foundations, but she kept the destruction controlled, focused only on the enemies before her.

    Melina, meanwhile, was the picture of calm efficiency. As the cultists kept pouring in, she walked straight into the chaos, her eyes scanning the battlefield for the artifact. A stone pillar collapsed in her path, but with a flick of her wrist, the entire structure disintegrated into a fine powder.

    It was as though she had gotten the pass for manipulating matter (Bye-bye science), she was taking apart anything in her way with super precision.

    As she moved deeper into the fray, a group of heavily armored cultists blocked her path, their shields glowing with protective wards. They looked confident¡ªafter all, these shields were enchanted to withstand most forms of ethercraft.

    Unfortunately for them, Melina''s ethercraft wasn''t "most forms of ethercraft." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She extended her hand toward them, and the air around the shields began to shimmer. For a moment, the cultists stood firm, but then their shields started to crack¡ªnot break, but actually crumble, the wards dissolving as if they were made of sand. The cultists'' eyes widened in panic, and before they could even react, their armor followed suit, turning to dust around them.

    Melina walked past the now very naked and very terrified cultists without so much as a glance. Letting a huge wall fall above them.

    Back in the courtyard, Eleyn had turned the place into a fiery inferno, with walls of flame blocking every escape route for the cultists. They were trying to fight back, throwing spells and curses at her, but her fire consumed everything they threw her way. With a smirk, she raised both hands, and the flames roared higher, a dragon-shaped vortex of fire swirling in the air above her.

    She unleashed it on the remaining cultists, and in seconds, they were nothing more than ash.

    "You done playing with them yet?" Melina called from the edge of the courtyard.

    "Just about," Eleyn replied, extinguishing the flames with a wave of her hand. "Find the artifact?"

    "No... Do you think years of meticulous planning would be just dependent on an artifact? And if it is, do you think it would easy to find?" Melina said as she disintegrated a fiery projectile heading her way.

    Just then, a deafening roar shook the ground beneath their feet. Both women looked up to see a massive shadow descending from the sky¡ªa dragon, its scales gleaming in the sunlight, wings blotting out the sky.

    Eleyn smirked. "Now that is what I call a dramatic entrance." Ignoring Melina''s nagging.

 Chapter 24 Free demolition service, Courtesy of Cultists

    Judge''s grandfather leaned back in his chair, surveying the chaos outside his office window with the kind of disinterest most people reserved for watching paint dry. Buildings were crumbling, dragons were soaring through the air, and cultists were screaming something about eternal destruction, but to him? It was Tuesday."Free demolition service," he mused, sipping tea calmly. "Finally, a break on that renovation bill." He''d been looking for a reason to tear the town down for ages, and here it was, wrapped up with a nice little bow of cultist madness. The Dragons could handle themselves, obviously.

    The cultists might as well have been chickens attacking a tank, and if anything, this would be a nice little exercise for the younger generation. Stretch the old wings, burn a few fanatics, and call it a day.

    Still, there was the matter of his grandson. Judge was safe in the Phoenix egg for now, but fights like this had a tendency to get a little too destructive. You never know when some overeager cultist would try to mess with something they shouldn''t. And speaking of reckless, there was his daughter-in-law, Eleyn, casually scorching everything within a mile radius.

    "Ah, classic Eleyn," he sighed, shaking his head. Fire everywhere, enemies screaming in terror, and not a single thought given to property damage. He almost admired her commitment to overkill.

    But the real surprise was Melina. For someone so composed, she was doing the kind of structural damage you usually associate with wrecking balls¡ªnot de-structuring everything at the atomic level. Yet here she was, turning objects into fine dust with just a flick of her hand.

    Then his ''Grandpa Sense'' started tingling. He squinted. There, just past Eleyn, a particularly shady cultist was inching toward the Phoenix egg like a moth to a very bad idea. Now, normally he wouldn''t care¡ªmost cultists had about as much chance of getting through the egg''s defenses as a toddler trying to take on a tank with a plastic spoon. But this one? This one had a vibe.

    "Damn it," he muttered. Grandpa Mode: Activated. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He pushed away from his desk, rolling his neck like an athlete about to enter the big game. Time for the big, dramatic entry. Dragons, after all, didn''t just show up. They arrived. With flair. He raised his hand, ready to teleport in style and¡­nothing.

    "Hmm," he frowned, trying again. Still nothing. "Ah."

    Of course. The anti-teleport barrier. Curse the foresight of these cultists. He stood there, a man defeated¡ªnot by battle, but by logistics.

    "Well, this is awkward," he grumbled to himself, looking toward the window.

    There was only one option left. No teleport? No problem. He could jump! You couldn''t have a grand entrance without a little altitude, right? Except for the fact that this felt a little less "dramatic boss" and a little more "desperate skydiver without a parachute."

    With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand unmet expectations, he climbed onto the windowsill and launched himself out. Mid-air, he felt a surge of satisfaction as his body transformed into his true dragon form (but way smaller), silver scales gleaming in the sunlight like the world''s largest disco ball.

    The wings spread out, catching the air, and with one powerful flap, he soared above the town.

    That''s more like it, he thought smugly. Now this was a proper entrance.

    He spotted the cultist below, creeping ever closer to the Phoenix egg, unaware of the doom literally descending upon him. With a roar that echoed like thunder, he dove. Cultists scattered, screaming something unintelligible about ''false gods'' or ''great serpents'' or some nonsense like that, but he had eyes only for the one.

    As he plummeted, the cultist turned, eyes wide, like someone who had just realized that picking a fight with dragons was a one-way ticket to bad decisions. But it was too late for regrets. With a single swipe of his claw, the cultist was reduced to what could only be described as "fancy red mist."

    "Not so ominous now, are you?" Grandpa Dragon growled, feeling quite pleased with himself.

    He landed with an earth-shaking thud, transforming back into his humanoid form with the grace of a ballerina¡ªif that ballerina happened to be a grumpy old dragon lord with a penchant for theatrics.

    Dusting off his robes, he took a look around, watching Eleyn still frying cultists like it was an Olympic event, while Melina casually disintegrated anything that even thought about moving in her direction.

    "Ah, family gatherings," he muttered. "Always such a lively affair."

    Eleyn finally noticed him and waved, her hands still crackling with fire. "About time you got here, father!"

    He waved back, mostly because it felt rude not to. "Had a bit of trouble with the teleportation spell. These cultists actually had the nerve to plan something."

    "Rookies," she snorted, setting a nearby tree on fire for good measure.

    Melina floated over, looking as calm as if she had just finished a nice stroll in the garden, not the wholesale destruction of several city blocks. "Patriarch Gereon," She called out, "We could really use a way to disable the anti-teleport barrier. These idiots actually managed to get their hands on something powerful."

    "I was just thinking that," Grandpa Gereon grumbled, eyeing the sky. "Any idea where the artifact is?"

    Melina, ever the tactician, already had an answer. "There''s a central cultist controlling it. I can sense the artifact''s location¡ªit''s up on the ridge behind the town."

    Gereon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I was just planning to take a nice afternoon nap, but I suppose I could go tear down a world-ending artifact. Just for kicks."

    "Would you prefer I do it?" Eleyn teased, sending a cultist flying with a casual backhand of flame.

    "Oh, please, I''m not that old," Gereon coughed "Let''s get this over with before dinner. And about the trip you had been planning, let''s do that after the town is rebuilt."

    "Father, I would head outside the barrier and teleport Judge to the palace. Please take care of things here"

    Melina touched the egg, "I will go with her, Protecting the egg and fighting together can become quite a task, especially if someone comes whom she can''t handle in her human form."

    Gereon looked at both Eleyn and Melina, he nodded and started heading toward the artifact''s location, While the other two started to head out of the city.

 Chapter 25 My Deity Has a Better Sense of Humor Than Me

    Judge was sleeping peacefully in his egg, oblivious to the destruction outside. But his mind had decided to take a little field trip. He stood in front of Clio¡ªhis own personal deity, or at least she should be, given how often they were meeting lately."Why am I here¡ªuh, Cli¡ªClio?" Judge stammered, tripping over the name like it was a rogue piece of sidewalk.

    He had never stuttered before, not even when he was alive and doing business deals with people who thought they''d outsmarted him. But here? It was a whole different story, it was like he was a completely different person when in front of the deity of stories. The place was dark, with no light anywhere, yet he could see Clio and himself as clear as day. Creepy? Maybe.

    "I told you yesterday that you could achieve whatever you desire, right?" Clio''s smile was starting to become less annoying, though Judge wasn''t sure if that was good or just Stockholm syndrome. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Yeah, you did. So¡­?" He didn''t trust that smile. That was the kind of smile that people gave when they were about to hand you a contract with a lot of fine print.

    "Well, you can''t wake up right now. There''s kind of a... situation in your city." She said it so casually, like she was talking about a mild inconvenience instead of, you know, chaos.

    Judge''s blood pressure (if he still had one) spiked. "And what about Mom? And Dad?!"

    Clio waved off his panic with the grace of someone who''s seen too many doomsdays to care. "Relax. No one''s going to die. After all, if there''s one thing nobody seems to grasp¡ªdespite it being painfully obvious¡ªit''s to never, ever underestimate the dragons."

    Her smile morphed from "mildly irritating" to "oddly comforting." Judge hated that. Comfort wasn''t exactly his vibe right now. Warmth? Bad memories of being stuffed in a flaming pouch by his mother. And he definitely never wanted to remember the warm vine.

    "Okay, so why am I here then?" Judge asked, realizing he couldn''t move. Great, now he was a statue.

    "Oh, I just thought it''d be fun to tell you more about the world you''re living in¡ªimportant stuff you''ll need to know once you wake up." Clio snapped her fingers, and suddenly a giant throne appeared beneath her. She sat down, looking way too regal. "I wanted you to learn it at your own pace, but, well, you know... circumstances."

    "More world-building? Ugh, fine. Let''s get this over with." Judge sighed, now finding himself also on a throne¡ªstill immobile though. "Can you see the future? Wait, no, you''re a deity... of course, you can."

    Clio chuckled like she was talking to a child who had just asked if the sky was blue. "No, no one can see the future. What I can see is more... complex."

    "Great. Explain it in the simplest way possible."

    Clio leaned back, her expression like someone about to drop the ultimate truth bomb. "Okay, imagine your life as a book, and I''m the author. I know what I''ve planned for the future, but I can always change it. But here? I don''t have the power to change anything or dictate what the story will change into."

    Judge blinked. "Right. Got it. Sort of. Let''s just get to the world-building part, shall we?"

    Clio''s face shifted from amused deity to Serious Mode in 0.2 seconds. "Right. So, you know you''ve been born as a dragon, correct?"

    "Yeah, I picked up on that."

    "Well, here''s the kicker: the existence of dragons is known to only a small, very specific group of people. Your city? It''s hidden. Like, super hidden. Think of it as the VIP section of a club, except no one knows it even exists."

    "Hidden dragons, secret city. Got it." Judge said, trying to process what sounded like a Dungeons & Dragons fan''s fever dream. "So, we''re in some kind of elite bubble?"

    "Basically. Your family¡ªand by extension, you¡ªare part of a race of creatures that could obliterate civilizations if they wanted.

    But they don''t, mostly because they''ve never wanted to do something so tedious, and due to an agreement between some other existence. The downfall of all dragons is that they are the laziest creature in existence, but even the least lazy sloth is still way above your league.

    "Nice. World-ending potential with a side of restraint." Judge nodded. This was starting to sound more manageable.

    Clio continued, "But the city''s hidden nature is more than just secrecy. It''s physically cut off, protected by layers of magic, enchantments, and a network of other, more... complex defenses."

    "Then how the heck did our enemies get in? If it was so secure, nobody should be able to attack it. Or did someone intentionally let them in?" Judge felt pretty smug for connecting the dots.

    Clio clapped her hands. "Bingo! But I won''t tell who did. There is an anti teleport barrier that''s keeping you from escaping. The cultists trying to wreck the city set it up, and your mom and her merry gang of super-powered friends are working on getting rid of it. It''s not easy, but let''s face it¡ªnothing involving dragons ever is."

    Judge exhaled sharply. "Great. And my part in all this? Sitting in an egg?"

    "Hey, someone has to stay safe! You''re important, after all." Clio gave him another one of her annoyingly comforting smiles. "But don''t worry, you''re not going to stay in that egg forever. Once things settle down, there''s a whole world for you to conquer¡ªer, explore."

    "Conquer, explore... same thing," Judge said, suddenly feeling a weird sense of anticipation. He was a dragon, after all. Time to live up to the family legacy.

    Clio tilted her head, looking at him like she knew something he didn''t. "Oh, you''ll do just fine, Judge. Just remember, this isn''t just about power. It''s about knowledge, control, and timing. And trust me, you''ll have plenty of all three soon enough."

    "Well, that sounds... ominous," Judge muttered.

    Clio grinned, "Ominous? Nah, just your usual existential life lesson. Have fun with it!" She stood up, "Oh! I almost forgot. The colleague I said you would meet later," her grin turned into a huge smile, "looks like you two are destined to meet sooner." vanishing with a final wave.

    And just like that, Judge was alone in the darkness. Again. Still stuck in his throne, with way too much new information swirling in his head.

    "So, secret dragon city, powerful family, world-altering powers... no pressure." He sighed, "And now I have to meet my coworker? I am not paid enough for this." He could now move, so he got up and willed to leave the place.

    "Okay, time to wake up." But he forgot that he couldn''t wake up since he was inside an egg.

 Chapter 26 When Youre Too Bored to Fight, But the Cultists Insist

    Gereon was having the absolute time of his life. Chaos? Check. Fire everywhere? Check. Cultists running around like headless chickens?Big ol'' check. This was a perfect day. Seriously, who needed a vacation when you could have a city-wide destruction party, complete with clueless villains and free demolition services?

    "Ah, nothing like a little mayhem to clear the mind," he mused as he strolled through the burning streets, hands casually tucked behind his back like he was on a relaxing Sunday walk. "And here I thought today would be boring."

    Gereon¡ªwho, by the way, was currently in his human form (because hey, why not make things a little more interesting?)¡ªwasn''t remotely concerned about the town. In fact, he''d been planning to rebuild the place for years. Now? He had an army of deranged cultists doing the hard labor for him, and for free! This was practically the highlight of his week.

    "Who needs contractors when you''ve got maniacs blowing everything up for you?" he muttered cheerfully, kicking a piece of flaming debris out of his way. "And I didn''t even have to sign any permits."

    Gereon has become an old man, with years of experience at his disposal. He saw a group of cultists fighting a young, well-dressed man nearby. He looked at them and raised his hand, all of the cultists exploded as he curled his arm into a fist. " ''tis called pressure lads" He laughed sarcastically.

    "Thank you sir Gereon" The young man bowed his head as soon as he saw him, with the hand on his sword''s hilt. "I was having a hard time as I am still inexperienced."

    "Haha, it is important to know your own limitations, good for you" He pats the guy in the back. "Go help any child you see, everyone tends to go overboard when there is a fight."

    "Yes Sir!" He turned and left.

    "Now let''s see" He jumped up towards a tall building nearby and started to scan the whole landscape. "Who looks like they''ll give me a proper warm-up?"

    And then he spotted him¡ªa hulking mass of a cultist, fighting a small group of dragons. The man radiated dark energy like a lighthouse of bad decisions, the kind of dark energy that screamed, "I take myself way too seriously. He was built like a tank and looked like he''d spent too much time thinking up evil speeches."

    Perfect.

    "Oh, great," Gereon sighed dramatically, "another mid-boss. Just what I needed to make my day even more exciting."

    He smiled as he propelled himself towards the fight. He raised his hands and looked at the dragons as soon as he got there, "Now, now, now," he waved them off, "I know you young''uns want to play, but let an old man have his fun. I''ll take it from here.

    The dragons looked confused at first, "Yes, my lord." They quickly composed themselves and left.

    "Now for you, my friend. Let''s see what you got" He scratched his beard.

    The cultist''s lips curled into a snarl. "Dragon scum," he spat, dark energy swirling ominously around his fists. "You think you can walk around in your human form and beat me?"

    Gereon raised an eyebrow. "Well, I was planning on it, yeah. But hey, if you want me to turn into a dragon and end this in, like, two seconds, I''m game. And please use nicer words, there are children fighting around here!"

    The cultist roared, summoning a giant ball of black energy between his hands. The ground trembled, rubble shook, and Gereon could practically hear the dramatic battle music swelling in the background.

    "Oh, a giant dark energy ball," Gereon said, stifling a yawn. "How original. Let me guess¡ªyou call it something ridiculous like, ''The Orb of Eternal Despair'' or ''Doom Sphere''? I''m just spitballing here."

    The cultist''s eye twitched. "This is the Abyssal Death Orb, you ignorant fool!"

    Gereon sighed. "Of course it is. Alright, fine. Let''s get this over with."

    Without warning, Gereon leaped into the air, performing the most unnecessarily flashy backflip you''ve ever seen. He twisted, turned, and spun like a figure skater trying to win gold at the Olympics, all while dodging the enormous death orb like it was just a minor inconvenience.

    The cultist''s face twisted in confusion. "What in the godforsaken world are you doing?!" He screamed, "Fight properly you punk dragon."

    Gereon landed gracefully, with a smug grin plastered on his face. "That, my oversized friend, was called ''style.'' You should try it sometime. Oh wait you can''t."

    The cultist, clearly done with the banter, lunged at Gereon with two massive, dark ether blades. He moved fast¡ªlike a freight train barreling down the tracks, but Gereon was faster. He vanished from sight just as the cultist swung, leaving the lumbering behemoth slashing at thin air.

    "Looking for me?" Gereon''s voice came from behind, tapping the cultist''s armored shoulder.

    The cultist whirled around, teeth bared in rage, but Gereon was already in motion, raising his hand. "Alright, enough of this. Time to show you something a little more¡­ refined."

    Gereon''s hand began to glow with an intense, bright silver light, so bright it illuminated the battlefield like the sun itself. The light danced around his fingers, crackling with raw ether, until finally, he unleashed it in a move that would forever be burned into the memories of anyone watching.

    "Behold," he said, voice so dramatic he should''ve taken up acting, "the silver arc!"

    The air crackled with energy as the silver light shot from Gereon''s hand, forming a blinding, crescent-shaped wave that cut through the air like a comet. It slashed through the cultist''s armor, obliterating the dark energy around him and sending him flying backward in a spectacular, slow-motion arc, in two pieces. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Gereon dusted off his hands, looking almost bored. "Well, that was anticlimactic. Really should''ve invested in better cultists."

    Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard slow, deliberate clapping from behind him. Gereon turned, eyebrow raised, to find a tall figure emerging from the shadows¡ªa man cloaked in dark robes, his face obscured but the ominous aura he gave was enough to get Gereon exited.

    "Well done, dragon," the man said, his voice smooth and sinister. "I must thank you for ridding me of my incompetent underlings."

    Gereon''s eyes narrowed. Now this was more like it, he might''ve to transform.

 Chapter 27 How not to annoy a mother dragon

    Melina and Eleyn were the best when it came to teamwork. Both of their skills complemented each other. If someone comes with an ether-resistant armor, Melina will break it and let Eleyn do the rest.While Melina''s principle was deadly, she couldn''t disintegrate anything that is alive. And Eleyn was here with her uncontrolled destruction. Makes people wonder how a man as composed as Alex Drakonis fell for her.

    "Eleyn, we should now ignore the small fries" Her voice was barely audible over the wind since both of them were moving at a high speed.

    "WHAT?" Eleyn shouted back, fully prepared to reduce everything in her path to smoldering ash.

    "I said STOP!" Melina raised her voice just as Eleyn, a little too enthusiastically, slammed the brakes, causing the air around them to swirl like they''d just opened a window in a wind tunnel.

    "What?" Eleyn grumbled, half focused on caressing the egg in her arms like a mother dragon guarding her treasure hoard.

    But the answer quickly revealed itself. They would''ve gotten goosebumps if they had hair on the body, as a presence ahead of them made itself known¡ªdark, menacing, and screaming, "I''m way too over-leveled for this beginner''s area."

    "Oh great," Eleyn muttered under her breath, already preparing a sarcastic retort for whatever monologue this presence was about to drop.

    And then, right on cue, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, clad in a cloak so dark it looked like he''d stolen it from a villain''s clearance sale. His face was obscured by his hood, but the arrogant smirk in his voice was impossible to miss.

    "Ah, I was hoping to break that little egg you''re clutching so desperately. Must be important, huh?" He chuckled, as though the idea of ruining their day brought him genuine joy.

    Melina and Eleyn exchanged a look¡ªhalf annoyance, half ''ugh, another one of these guys.'' But before Eleyn could throw out a snappy comeback, the man raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

    With a flash, the egg vanished from Eleyn''s grasp. Just like that.

    Eleyn blinked. Then she blinked again. Her hands hovered where the egg had been, her brain processing what had just happened.

    "Did he just¡ª" Eleyn''s eyes looked around in confusion, fire igniting in her sharp gaze. "Oh no, you did NOT just teleport my baby away!"

    The man snapped his fingers again, this time it was Melina, she also disappeared with a flash. And the man spoke, "We can''t have distractions in our little exchange now, can we?"

    Eleyn''s hair rose up in a wave, the blue color turning red and golden embers spewing out from them. She looked like she was the epitome of an angry mother right now. "Distractions?! You think I need distractions to take you out?! I don''t even bother learning the names of weaker beings like you!"

    The man tilted his head, amused. "Oh, I suppose introductions are in order then. I am Kaelon, The black blood." His face suddenly turned serious. "Don''t you think it is too early to judge someone''s strength?"

    Eleyn took a step forward, the ground melting as she walked. "I think you misunderstood something." She gave the most annoying grin anyone had seen, "It is not that you are weak, It''s just that I am too strong for you."

    "We''ll see" Kaelon, slightly annoyed by her remark, lunged forward drawing a black sword.

    "Your arrogance know no bounds." Eleyn made a sword out of golden flames (Yes gold). "I''m Eleyn, the Witch of the Golden Flames. You can call me the last person you''ll ever annoy."

    Eleyn''s body was weak because it had been only a few days after she had given birth. And here she was, already back in action. She wondered where her, ever-composed husband had run off to, he was in for an earful.

    Sparks flew as both of their swords clashed, both of their swordplays were a sight to behold. The air around them was thick from the intense heat of Eleyn''s flames and the oppressive darkness coming from Kaelon''s blades.

    Each strike made tremors on the ground, which cracked and made craters every time the blades clashed.

    Kaelon smirked, his black sword humming with dark energy as he pushed back. "For someone who talks big, you sure seem to be struggling."

    Eleyn gave a sly smile, as if what he said just proved her point. "Struggling? Oh please, I am enjoying decent swordplay after a long time. Even giving birth was harder than this. And you are now taking my maternity leave."

    Kaelon looked confused, women on maternity leave would never be this energetic. "You might want to hurry, you never know what happened to your precious egg."

    Eleyn let out a dry laugh, swinging her fiery sword in a wide arc that forced Kaelon to retreat a step. "Oh please, don''t tell me you don''t even the most basic thing about phoenix eggs. I am in no hurry"

    "In that case, let ME make this quick" He stepped back more and pointed his sword at her, channeling ether to the tip of his blade, a small orb of blood was created on the tip, which he shot at Eleyn.

    The orb grew bigger and split into many smaller orbs, which all turned into a sharp drill. "Black spike." Kaelon had the air of someone who had just uttered the name of a badass move.

    Eleyn, seemingly unfazed by the spikes, creates a wall made of her signature golden flames. They were more than enough to vaporize the orbs into the air.

    "Quick! You say? Oh, sweetheart, do I have bad news for you." Eleyn grinned wickedly, "I don''t do quick. I like to make my enemies suffer. Especially you" She raised her sword, pointing at him, "You teleported my baby to who knows where." But she wasn''t worried, the phoenix egg was indestructible, and a random teleport always results in reaching near a Phoenix, who were her allies.

    Walls of golden flames erupted, encircling and isolating both of them. "You should''ve never picked a fight with me," Eleyn said as she grew a pair of blue horns, her ears turned sharp, and a pair of blue wings appeared on her back, surprisingly not tearing her attire. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Engulf the malice, Oh flames of the holy." Now that was dramatic, Eleyn lowered her sword. Nothing except anticipation happened for a while, suddenly¡ª Kaelon fell to the ground and screamed in pain, his pale skin turning bright.

    Golden flames slowly started to engulf him, slowly but surely, torturing him to death.

 Chapter 28 Dragon Lord, The Grandpa of sarcasm

    Gereon could feel the overwhelming power of the person in front of him, he was someone worthy to fight against a dragon lord. The lord being Gereon, obviously.The man stood tall on the rubbles of fallen buildings, his sword was dark, but unlike Gereon''s previous encounter, the sword had dark energy spewing out of it. "I had not killed any of the dragons yet, they were not worth my time. But you, old man, I can feel it, how strong are you?" He had an excited smile on his face, but not in a good way.

    Gereon cracked his neck, loosening up as he readied himself. "You seem awfully confident, standing there like you''ve got something to prove. But tell me," he swirled his sword lazily, the blade catching the light, "have you ever fought a dragon who makes jokes while he melts your face off?"

    The man''s expression tightened, he was ready for a fight but this guy was talking way too much, so he decided to taunt him. "I''ve fought many beings in my time. You''re no different."

    Gereon''s laugh boomed, loud enough to send a few birds flying from the trees behind them¡ª if there was a tree there of course. "Oh, you poor, poor soul. You just compared me to ''many beings.'' You might want to write a will."

    The man lunged without warning, his sword aimed straight for Gereon''s heart, but the dragon lord sidestepped with ease, the movement so casual it was insulting.

    "You call that an attack? My grandmother''s faster than that, and she''s been dead for a whole century!" Gereon taunted, spinning his blade in a lazy arc. The clang of metal against metal echoed as their swords collided, sparks flying with each clash.

    Both of the men were taking it easy and enjoying themselves, but Gereon''s sarcastic and insulting remarks was making the other guy even more enraged.

    He moved with precise strikes, with each swing of a sword aimed to kill. But Gereon dodged or blocked the attacks with the grace of a Lego enthusiast building a complicated set.

    "What''s your name youngster?" Gereon asked while holding back a yawn, probably not to annoy the guy too much too early. He was starting to enjoy the fight as he had gotten a strong opponent.

    Both of them stepped back, "I am Aldric, the light priest from the church of God of Night."

    "Ah, so you are a vampire." Gereon gave him an annoying smile. "No wonder you are stronger than the other bunch of trolls, elves, and dwarves. Why would a creature as dignified as you attack our town, not that I''m complaining. I even let someone interfere with the barrier, but I should point out that a whole-scale fight was out of the question."

    "I may be a vampire but I am not as idiotic as the rest, not even taking revenge. The dragons are the ones who put our entire race nearly into extinction, and I will have my vengeance by doing the same to your race, you will be the first dragon to fall... Dragon Lord."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "The first huh? I''m touched. But let me tell you something, Take this as someone speaking from experience: Revenge is a thief. It steals your time, your joy, your future. It promises satisfaction but delivers nothing but regret.

    The true victory is in walking away, not letting the hatred bury you along with your enemy."

    Aldric''s eyes narrowed as Gereon spoke, the vampire''s rage barely restrained behind his tightly clenched jaw. "You speak as if you know true loss, Dragon Lord. As if you''ve suffered in the way I have."

    Gereon chuckled, the sound low and rumbling like distant thunder. "Oh, I''ve suffered, believe me. But if you think revenge is the way to ease that pain, you''re in for a world of disappointment, my friend. Trust me, it''s like throwing rocks into the ocean and expecting a tidal wave." He spun his sword once more, the blade shimmering in the fading light. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Now, shall we stop chatting and get on with this? I''ve got a nap planned after this, and you''re cutting into my relaxation time."

    Aldric snarled, his patience fraying. "You mock me, dragon!"

    "And yet," Gereon interrupted with a grin, "you''re still standing there, waiting for me to stop. You''ve got all this darkness and vengeance, and I''ve just got my bright character. It''s like a tragic comedy, really."

    Without another word, Aldric''s ether flared around him, briefly forming a small, dark storm before revealing himself, now with a much stronger character vibe. His sword became engulfed in an eerie black flame as he lunged forward with blinding speed. Gereon, however, sidestepped the attack with a casual flick of his wrist, as though swatting away an annoying insect.

    "Nice form," Gereon commented, easily deflecting another strike, "but a bit predictable. You''re announcing your movements. It''s like you''re waving a flag that says, ''Hey, I''m about to stab you!''"

    Aldric roared in frustration, his attacks becoming more frenzied. He swung his sword in wide arcs, sending waves of dark energy crashing toward Gereon, who dodged them effortlessly, his movements sloppy but precise.

    "You know," Gereon said, his voice light and conversational as he parried another strike, "you really ought to take up dancing. You''ve got the speed for it. A little grace wouldn''t hurt, though."

    Aldric''s face twisted with rage, his crimson eyes glowing with hatred. "Enough!" he shouted, dark-colored ether erupting outward in a violent explosion. The ground beneath them cracked and split, and the air itself seemed to grow heavy with the weight of Aldric''s power, he was very powerful, but he was matched against the wrong opponent.

    Gereon, still calm, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is it time for the dramatic power-up moment? I love this part."

    The vampire''s form shifted as dark energy consumed him, transforming him into a towering figure of shadow and flame. His sword had grown larger, and the dark energy that spewed from it crackled with raw, untamed ether.

    "Now," Aldric growled, his voice deep and distorted, "you will witness the true might of the God of Night''s chosen."

    Gereon stared at Aldric''s new form for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. "Not bad. I''d give it a solid 8 out of 10 for the intimidation factor. But you''re still missing something¡­ Ah, right. You forgot the banter part."

    Aldric, now fully consumed by his rage, charged at Gereon with terrifying speed. His blade came down with the force of a landslide, aiming to cleave the Dragon Lord in two. But Gereon, ever the showman, raised his own sword just in time, blocking the strike with a deafening clang that sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

    The force of the blow sent both men sliding backward, their feet digging into the ground. For the first time in the battle, Gereon''s smile faltered, replaced by a look of mild surprise.

    "Well, well," he said, his tone still light despite the clear strain in his voice. "Looks like you''ve got some real strength behind those fancy powers of yours."

    Aldric''s monstrous form loomed over him, his sword raised high for another strike. "This is your end, Dragon Lord!"

    Gereon''s smile returned, sharp and dangerous. "Not today, bloodsucker."

    With a sudden burst of golden ether, Gereon surged forward, his sword cutting through the air with blinding speed. Aldric barely had time to react as their blades clashed once more, the impact sending sparks flying in every direction. Gereon''s strikes were extremely precise, heavy, and relentless, each one moved to exploit the smallest weakness in Aldric''s defense.

    Despite his monstrous strength, Aldric found himself being pushed back, his footing slipping with every blow. Gereon moved like a whirlwind, his sword a blur of golden light as he danced around Aldric''s attacks, his movements simple and effortless.

    "You know," Gereon said between strikes, "for all that dark power of yours, you''re still too slow. It''s all about agility, my friend. Power means nothing if you can''t land a hit."

    Aldric roared again in frustration, Gereon knew the art of making your enemy angry very well, he unleashed another wave of dark ether that tore through the ground, sending debris flying into the air. But Gereon was already moving, dodging the attack with a casual leap and landing gracefully a few feet away.

    "Really, you''ve got to stop relying on these big, flashy moves," Gereon chided, shaking his head. "They look cool, sure, but they''re not very practical."

    Aldric''s chest heaved with exertion, his monstrous form flickering as the dark ether began to wane. "You¡­ mock me¡­ still¡­"

    Gereon gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, come on. You''re taking this all too seriously. This is supposed to be fun! A good ol'' battle of life and death. Well, mostly for you.

    I''m planning on walking away from this."

    With a roar of defiance (yes more roaring), Aldric summoned every last ounce of his strength, his dark ether surging around him in a final, desperate attempt to overpower the Dragon Lord. His sword swung down with all the weight of his rage and vengeance behind it.

    But Gereon, with a calm smile, raised his hand. "Time to end this."

    In an instant, golden ether exploded from his body, engulfing the battlefield in a blinding light. The sheer force of Gereon''s power shattered Aldric''s sword, sending shards of dark energy scattering like dust in the wind.

    Aldric stumbled back, his monstrous form crumbling as the ether drained from his body. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the last of his strength left him.

    Gereon sheathed his sword, walking over to the defeated vampire with a casual swagger. "Well, that was entertaining. You put up a decent fight, Aldric. But, as I said before¡­ revenge is a thief. And right now, it''s stolen your future."

    Aldric, his face pale and drawn, looked up at Gereon with hollow eyes. "You¡­ you spared me¡­ Why?"

    Gereon shrugged. "Eh, I''m not a fan of killing for the sake of it. Plus, you''ve got potential. Maybe next time, try fighting for something other than vengeance. You might actually enjoy it."

    With that, Gereon turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the horizon as the remnants of Aldric''s dark power faded into nothingness. As he left, he called out one last witty remark over his shoulder.

    "Oh, and if you ever feel like a rematch, look me up! I could use the workout."

 Chapter 29 Studio Smackdown: Round One, When No Thanks Doesnt Work

    Judge was in his clone body, sitting near the ether well. After the meeting with Clio, he couldn''t go back to his real body since he knew he would fall asleep. So he did himself a favor and teleported to the studio before switching with the clone and heading back to the forest.Now he just sits there looking for some way to teleport near his real body. But according to what Clio said, he cannot teleport inside the city of dragons. Even if there was no anti-teleport barrier, it would''ve been a chore to teleport.

    As he was pondering about what to do like a squirrel who had lost its hidden stash of nuts (the edible kind, seriously¡ªif you thought otherwise, please see a therapist). He could suddenly sense his real body somewhere very far away.

    "Did Mom succeed in teleporting out of the city? Maybe I should go see her." But there was one tiny problem¡ª She didn''t know about his clone, and a man in an unknown attire with a smiling white mask wasn''t very well welcomed by people, especially his mother, it wasn''t an exaggeration to say that he was honestly scared of her.

    Using the magic of EC (Enhanced Cognition), he found the solution, he didn''t have to use it but he did anyway. He could teleport near his real self and quickly head back to the studio, observing what had happened in that split second. If he used his EC he could get a better grasp of the scene.

    "Alright," He stood up, he now had another problem to solve, teleporting such a great distance would require a great deal of ether, and he wasn''t sure he would have enough ether to go back into the studio.

    He decided to scourge the researcher''s office for any catalysts. And he found one¡ª well, many actually. There was a box full of unused, single-use catalysts. "Yep, this will work!" He excitedly took a few and laid them out on a table in front of him.

    Laying them out on a table, he focused on the catalysts, drawing ether from each until he could not draw any more ether from them. Focusing on his real body''s location, Judge folded space and stepped through, activating his EC to gauge the surroundings instantly.

    The teleportation consumed almost half of his ether reserve, which was surprising considering the fact that there was a huge amount of catalysts from which he absorbed ether in order to perform his principle.

    Hoping to see his mother, all he saw was another forest, but not as thick as the one before, the trunks and branches of the trees present had a more orange hue than... well, trees. The leaves were bright red instead of green. There was a path nearby, not fancy but clear enough to indicate that there were people using this path regularly.

    But the most important thing, there was no one present. No Mom, No Grandpa, No Melina¡ª No one was there with the egg. He deactivated his EC and proceeded toward the egg that held his real body, and he picked the big egg in his hands.

    He noticed two things about it¡ª one, it was extremely heavy, he could imagine someone struggling to power lift with two of these on each end. The second one, was that it was extremely hard, though not as hard as his clone body.

    "Who might you be young man with a masked face?" A woman appeared behind him. "And will you tone down your Will? Your presence is pretty intense, any normal person would''ve been on the ground, gasping for breath."

    Judge almost panicked in surprise, someone appeared behind him and he did not even sense her coming, which alone made him wary. He turned around, starting his masquerade of a mysterious entity.

    "My apologies," he said smoothly. "But I cannot contain my anger, and that naturally leads to an overflow of Will. Since you''re unaffected, I see no reason to hide it."

    The woman smiled faintly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She reminded him of Clio, but less annoying. "I see. So, what angers you, masked one?"

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, as if clones were capable of such feats of course. But his expressions were hidden behind the mask. "It is none of your concern." He turned around, ready to leave, "But if you must know, I am here for personal reasons. Now, if you would excuse me."

    "Your temperament is pretty bad." She tilted her head, she was curious about him but her facial expression did not change. "That arrogant nature will get you in a lot of trouble."

    Her voice was annoyingly calm, leaving Judge to wonder if she was Clio 2.0¡ª but her character was way off from Clio''s warm attitude.

    Judge was starting to understand that standing here any longer would not spell ''good'' for him. "I did not ask for a lecture lady, I will be going." He decided to teleport back to the studio after he was out of her sight.

    "Who said anything about lecturing?" Without a warning, she launched herself in front of him, the sword in her hand had the scabbard on. She aimed at his mask, probably to see the arrogant guy''s face.

    Judge, luckily had his EC still on, which helped him to block the attack that could otherwise hit him straight on his mask. His hands did not break due to the hard materials it was made of, but he was blasted back, hitting and destroying many trees on the path, he was still clutching the egg in his arms.

    "Wow you are strong, I expected a broken bone or two." She was still smiling, but this time, the smile felt illegal. He suddenly felt the urge to apologize to Clio for thinking her smile as annoying.

    "What do you think you are, doing? Are you looking for a fight?" Judge could not falter, he needed to keep up his acting.

    "You can take it in whatever way you want, but some with a will as domineering as you should be able to take my attacks." She launched at him again.

    Judge had no choice but to fight back, and there was only one way to do it. He snapped his fingers, teleporting both of them inside the studio.

    Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 30 Blades, and Bad Decisions: Judges Guide to Getting Smacked

    Judge, now sitting grandly on his throne, watched as the woman in Victorian attire looked around in confusion. She wore a red steampunk long coat, with black a waistcoat, and skinny pants. It didn''t actually scream steampunk, but she was there. He deactivated EC as he deemed it unnecessary since they were inside the studio."Hey!" The woman said, brushing off her short black hair, her crimson eyes gazing sharply at Judge. "Do you think a change of scenery would actually make you win?"

    "Precisely," It was his turn to speak more arrogantly, "You started the fight, now let me end it." He snapped his fingers, changing the entire space. He had to record the fight, it might turn out epic.

    "WHa¡ª" That was all she could muster before she was hanging upside down, tied on all limbs with a chain. Judge had to crush her ego just as he had done to Hawthorne. This one would take some extra efforts, that''s all.

    But little did he know that his calculations were far off, like... really far off. She snapped the chains without effort, but her sword was nowhere to be seen. "Looking for these?" Judge held up her sword.

    "You little!" She rushed at him in an inhumane speed, and as she was about to reach him, he teleported behind her, a light push was enough to knock her out of balance. But she did not crash even though there was a wall in front of her, rather, the wall vanished.

    She now sat in the throne room once again, with Judge standing near the throne, smirking with her sword in his hand. "What a fine beauty, what''s the sword''s name?" He turned to her.

    "The sword''s name is Ashen and me, the owner... is Seraphis." She was surprisingly calm despite the situation. She stood up¡ª and vanished. Judge''s eyes widened in surprise, trying to locate where she was, but all he could see was the ceiling near him. Was the ceiling always this close? He thought.

    He soon realized why he was about to hit the roof, Seraphis had given him a big ol'' smack to his temples. He teleported to the ground, and thought ''Uh oh! I screwed up big time didn''t I''.

    She was strong, maybe stronger than his mother. But he couldn''t give up, he summoned a cane for a dramatic flair. He stomped it on the floor and snapped his fingers for that extra flair.

    Suddenly, the entire place vanished, leaving a long and unending black plain, with a moon behind him. Seraphis, wasting no time, lunged at Judge with her sword aimed at Judge''s heart. "Another change of scenery? I prefer this one more."

    Judge summoned a sword and activated his EC, Seraphis'' movements slowed down, it was still fast but he could dodge them, he blocked any attack that had less force behind it, but even those swings were heavy.

    The air swirled around and sparks flew as they fought, Seraphis with her relentless, powerful attacks and Judge, with even more speed and keen observation. The fight ensued on, as both of them started to use ether.

    Seraphis extended her left hand, the red gem on her glove shined. A reusable catalyst! Judge stepped back, and back again as she rushed towards him. Seraphis pointed her hand at him and flicked. "Blow away!"

    Judge got blasted away, he had to create a wall behind him to not go any further, but even the wall was shattered. Luckily he lost momentum and was able to land properly. He dusted his coat and stood up, only to be immediately be engaged in another sword clash.

    Ashen was a sword with a sleek design, it was as thin as a katana. To produce that much power from a sword that thin, Seraphis is a monster. Judge was clearly losing, and she hadn''t even unsheathed her sword yet.

    The clash went on with Judge thinking of possible solutions, all while listening to her nagging. "The stance is incorrect", "a little more to the right", "You call that a swing?"

    "What are you? My teacher?" Judge snapped, he couldn''t take it anymore. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "We will see," Seraphis smiled as she went in for another strike.

    "What?!" Judge wasn''t expecting that answer, "Just so you know, I don''t need teachers."

    But she did not respond, instead, she was more enthusiastic about clashing swords, well... scabbard against sword.

    Judge, could not fight longer, he had to go find his mother. He needed to know more about the mystery of why the egg appeared here alone. His mother would never endanger him, even with an egg as hard as this, she would not have left him alone. She might be in danger.

    Seraphis swung her sword again, but this time, it hit him straight and square on his upper chest, setting him sprawling away. But this time he made a thicker wall, which cracked but stopped him in his tracks.

    This time instead of sprawling straight at him, Seraphis raised her left hand, and the red gem started glowing, she started to concentrate her ether on the tip of her fingers, "Breaker", she said in a calm voice. Sending forward a wave of white energy that swirled as it propelled forward.

    He decided to use a risky move, which was the principle of nothing, which he still had not understood completely, but he knew the basics. He raised his hand, and opened his palm "NIHILITY" He screamed.

    Judge and Seraphis both looked at the scene surprised, her attack had just vanished, as if she had just shot a confetti popper and the little pieces were all scattered. But her calm demeanor did not fade.

    "Alright let''s stop this, you are sent here by the deity of stories are you not?" She sheathed her sword.

    "WHAT?!" Was all he could muster before cracks started appearing on the void that seemed endless. He did not need a lot of time to understand why there was cracks forming. Nihility, the art of nothing, as it name suggests, creates a space of nothing, and ether seeps in to repair the space.

    His whole studio needed ether to sustain, and it could not handle lesser amount of ether inside, so the ether that seeped inside the pocket of nothing was absent from keeping up the studio.

    Judge teleported both of them back before asking his question, "How do you know the Deity of stories?"

    He was sure that this world had separate gods and she was one above them. There was no way that Seraphis have met Clio, unless he was missing a crucial information on how the gods worked. He needed answers.

 Chapter 31 OK now for the not funny part

    Melina woke up and looked around, she was inside a thick forest, but it was not Devfronds, she knew the extremely thick and really tall trees all too well. She was back in her hometown, the one she had abandoned a long time ago, the land of Elves. Getting back to her hometown was the least pleasant experience for her."Who is there?" Someone called out, it was a young male voice, probably an elf knight, he might be out on patrol. "If you won''t answer, I will shoot." the voice shouted again.

    Shoot? Haa, She laughed internally, elves were the only ones who refused to change into steam or ether rifles just because ''It kills the sacred tradition of using a bow''.

    She got up and turned around, getting out to the clearing, looking for the source of voice. To her surprise, the young man was holding an ether powered rifle. Now that was an unexpected development, Melina had left the village because of the traditions. She hated the word, even saying the word filled her with great discomfort.

    Had they now abandoned the traditions and embraced technology? Anger and grief were boiling inside her. The day she had left the village was still buried deep in her mind, out of all the mixed feelings, only one thing stood out, and it was regret.

    Regret of not running away early, the regret of letting go of the person she cared about most. She could not think of a good memory from this place. It had been almost two centuries since she had left.

    "You... An elf?" The young man lowered his gun slightly as soon as he saw her face, but he was still ready to take up his arms, always being on guard was the basics of combats taught to the younger generation.

    "Identify yourself, which village are you from."

    Melina didn''t like the commanding tone he was using. She had to get back to Eleyn, but she couldn''t teleport from here, not out of the land of elves, unless she had the permission of the tree spirits, which she had no way to get in the current predicament she was in. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Teleporting inside was easy if either one knew of the coordinates, or if one messes up the coordinates and accidentally teleports here. Random teleports also work but nobody uses them due to the risks.

    "I am called Melina, I used to live in this village a long time ago." She walked forward, "I mean you no harm." She needed to get out of here, and to get the permission of the tree spirits, only one person can do that in a village, and she hated him.

    She could''ve faked her identity as a wandering elf, but that would actually lessen her chances of getting the spirits'' permission. "There should be elders who would know me."

    "But you look pretty young to me Miss, won''t there be anyone else who would know you?" The young elf was skeptical, she looked at most 50 years old, and the elders were as old as 250 years. Yet she says only the elders would be able to recognize her, he could feel something very fishy.

    "I would take that as a compliment." Melina mustered up a smile. "Now if you would please call any elder, or the chief." ''Chief'' was a hard word for her to say, the chief was the man who took everything from her. "You just need to speak my name, I am sure they would come here."

    "Please wait here I will call the elders." He decided the best course of action was to call the elders, since there was no way he could figure things out on his own.

    Just after he had left, another elf took his place, but he wasn''t very welcoming and was open with his discomfort of being near her.

    Melina did not mind as those factors did not affect her, and he was not talking to her, which was a huge relief for her.

    Soon enough, five elderly elves appeared together with the young elf. "Oh Gaia, mother of nature, it is you, it is really you." Four of them exclaimed, all happy and excited. The last one however had tears running down his face, he was so overwhelmed with emotions that he was unable to utter a single word.

    But Melina''s face said otherwise, she had disgusted look on her face,

    "Father," She said in an angry tone, unable to bottle up her fury, almost two hundred years had passed and the emotions she was hiding inside her all these years resurfaced.

    "Melina, my daughter, you have returned." His face was filled to the brim with happiness. He tried to hug her, but she refused, pushing him away. Surprising the young elf, she had pushed away the chief, but the other elders were calm, like they had already anticipated this.

    "You are not my father, not after all that had happened." Melina appeared angry, and she was, extremely so.

    "Sweetheart that happened two hundred years ago, I know it is hard to but, can you not forgive me."

    "Forgive you? You want me to forgive you?" She started shouting "After all these years, after all that you did to me. Aren''t you happy that you kept the tradition alive?"

    Tears started to roll down her face, "After you killed him to keep the tradition. Aren''t you happy you kept the tradition? Aren''t you happy that you broke me? My whole world? And yet you seek forgiveness?" She wiped her tears, but more came to replace them.

    Her father, or anyone else present could not speak. "You know, I never wanted to come here. I ended up here in a random teleportation, and I wish to live this hell, I don''t want to see your face."

    "Melina," Her father''s happy face was all gone, he now looked pathetic, like a broken man, only a shell of his former self. "I won''t ask for you to trust or understand me, but please¡ª will you forgive this dying old man."

 Chapter 32 Eleyns New Hobby: Speedrunning After Judge

    Judge had never fought this intense before, he could only hold out due to his enhanced cognition (EC just won''t cut it here). The lady in front of him, Seraphis, was really strong. All of her attacks were extremely heavy-hitting."How do you know the Deity of stories?" He was still holding the egg, he sat down after putting it on the floor. "I did not know she even talked to people in this world."

    "You are also someone in this world aren''t ya?"

    Judge did not know how to answer her question. Doubts swirled in his mind, was he really supposed to be a person from this world? He was supposed to be someone who died and reincarnated without his memories, yet here he was.

    "Or are you from another world?" Seraphis had a smirk on her face.

    Suddenly! Someone teleported nearby, as if to give Judge another jumpscare even though his heart was beating as fast as it could.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Eleyn had wrapped up her fight, she stood on a mountain of burnt corpses. The city had been destroyed, not by cultists, but by the dragons who got a little too excited when they were fighting after a long time.

    She still could not teleport. What was Father doing? She decided to check on him and the artifact. She needed to get back to her baby quickly. Even if the egg was transported near any Phoenix, there was no guarantee that nobody else would take it.

    But the egg was hard, it would take at least The Brute Pheonix to even crack it, unless the egg goes through the proper process for a phoenix egg to hatch.

    She rushed off to the source of the artifact that Melina pointed out, "Speaking of Melina, where did she get teleported to? Well, it doesn''t matter since she can fend for herself pretty well."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Melina was sitting beside a table, there were only two people present in the room¡ª herself, and her father. There was a cup of tea on the table, it was steaming and looked very warm and inviting, but she did not take a single sip.

    "You still look just the way you looked when you left... my daughter." Melina''s father tried to ease the tension and put an end to the awkward silence.

    "Never call me your daughter, never again." Her face was full of disgust, "Only my father used to call me that, and that loving father I once admired is no more, he had died, a long time ago."

    "Melina, I am a man a half feet inside death''s door, my only wish is to seek your forgiveness. I know what I did was not something I should ask forgiveness for, but I did it for the sake of the village."

    "For the village? Had anyone but you been against it? And when you felt like you were about to lose..." Tears started to swell up again, it was a painful memory. "You killed him, you killed Valor. He was my everything, and you broke me." She slammed on the table, spilling the warm tea, "Just because he was a vampire."

    "I am sorry Melina, I just..." He shook his head, "I was drunk okay, I was not thinking straight, and when I was sober¡ª you had already left."

    "Drunk or sober does not matter, I would leave the place if you could let me have the spirit''s permission." She got up and went to the door, "And what of the tradition, I saw a guard using an ether rifle, I wonder if you still keep the tradition of not marrying people of other races."

    She went out without waiting for her father''s reply, slamming the door on her way out, leaving her father to himself.

    As she got out of the chief''s house, someone was waiting for her, patiently. She was surprised to be greeted by a presence she never thought she could see again.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Eleyn reached the ridge behind the city, the place was her favorite spot whenever she was out for sightseeing. There was her father-in-law Gereon, trying to make sense of the artifact like a baby curious about its new toy.

    "Father! Judge has been transported elsewhere, and I need to go there." She called out to the immersed old man, snapping him out of his bliss.

    "Just a minute Eleyn, this artifact has got really complicated mechanics, Melina might be able to solve it in a pinch." He looked at her, "But where is she?"

    "Got transported too, after the egg."

    "Well we might have to wait a bit if that is the case, after disabling this thing, I will go to Melina and you to Judge. Let''s look for Alex after that, I know he can fight for himself, but he had not been seen for a pretty long time for a short mission, and the cultists he was after already attacked us."

    Gereon combed his beard with his hand, "There is something more to this than what meets the eye."

    "Well! Whatever you say Father, but please make it quick"

    "I can try. But you should learn to sometime use your brain, you can''t brawl everywhere you know, there are limits."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Aldric, was kneeling in front of someone. It was dark, but the place was still visible, it looked like a cathedral. There were benches arranged for people to sit, and stone walls with statues of the god of night. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "It is as you said," He looked up at the figure in front of him, "Everyone except me has died."

    "It does not matter, their souls will strengthen us more than when they were alive. Tell me, priest of light, how was the dragons." He had a coarse voice.

    "They were all strong, even the weaker ones were pretty powerful." He had a determined look on his face. "You were right, they must be vanquished, all dragons!"

    "Then you should attain higher amount of strength, I shall help you reach your goal. Remember, they killed our brethren."

    "As you command, what should I be doing¡ª Sir Senin, Apostle of the night."

 Chapter 33

    Gereon stood up after a long while, he had disabled the artifact. Eleyn had not paid attention to what he was sitting on, but now that she did, he was sitting on a corpse. "This one is fascinating, it lets the wielder and any other designated user the power to teleport anyone anywhere, with the ether of those inside its veil. Very handy""Fascinating," Eleyn deadpanned. "Can you teleport me to Judge now?"

    "Yeah, hold on" He took out his catalyst, a fancy transparent sphere with two gold rings around a black core. "Don''t forget your wand, the return trip would cost quite a heavy amount of ether."

    A blue light started to swirl around Eleyn, and before she could even roll her eyes at Gereon''s casual tone, she vanished.

    "Alright, now for Melina." He proceeded to teleport himself.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Back at the battlefield of awkwardness, Judge''s brain was having a meltdown. Seraphis had just asked, "Or are you from another world?"

    The question echoed in his head like a bad joke on loop. His heart raced like it was trying to break some obscure world record for the fastest heartbeat per minute (Seriously, could his internal organs chill for one second?).

    Her smirk wasn''t making it any better, it was like she knew something he didn''t, which¡ªlet''s face it¡ªwas very likely at this point.

    Just as Judge was trying to mentally hit "pause" on the chaos, things went from spicy to extra crispy: someone had teleported nearby, right behind the trees, far enough to stay hidden but close enough to throw more drama into the pot.

    "Seraphis?" A familiar voice cut through the tension like butter on a hot pan. Judge froze. He knew that voice. Oh no... please no...

    It was his mother.

    She came into view and her first reaction was not what he had expected, he wanted to go back into his studio, but the space was broken, and the fear of having to confront his mother dawned on him.

    Eleyn looked at him, surprised "Judge?" she gave him a sharp gaze, "Why does my baby exude a will with so much pressure?"

    Oh no... she recognizes me

    Judge was not expecting her to identify him, It is because of my will? He did not know how to control his will, so it was seeping out like a badly waterproofed fish tank.

    "Yep all me." That was what he wanted to say, but he did not dare utter a single word. His mouth had other plans. Now is NOT the time to freeze, buddy!

    "Yep, that''s your kid Eleyn, long time no see." Seraphis waved at her, but Eleyn rushed at judge, not the egg but to him in the clone body.

    "Why is my baby''s soul stuck in a mannequin?" she asked, placing her hand on his forehead. Warmth spread through him, and Judge immediately felt uncomfortable. Warmth? He preferred his chilly aura of confusion, thank you very much. But this warmth was... actually warm.

    "Uhh... Mom... You see..." Judge began, racking his brain trying to explain this forest fire of a situation.

    "It is quite a long story Eleyn, wanna head to my place? ya know my crib."

    "Yes, that would be better." Eleyn took the egg and the clone in her arms. "Let''s go." She bolted forward.

    "Wait not that way!" Seraphis sighed and facepalmed as she rushed behind her.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Two hundred years ago (More than two hundred, actually)-

    "You know Melina, When a person dies, it is said that their brain will play back their memories with the most important person in their lives. I heard it can last as long as a minute." It was a vampire, he had short black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

    "Please stop talking about death Valor, I want to leave the place, my father has found out about us. You know how much he values tradition."

    "Melina!" He turned to her, serious. "If I die, can you be the last person I see?" He smiled, and chuckled as she inflated her cheeks, looking at him angrily.

    "Can you say something other than about death? Seriously, you can Jinx it you know." She beat him playfully.

    "Haha, sorry Mel." He raised his hands to defend himself. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡ª

    (Still two hundred years ago)

    "It has been a minute dear," An elf was talking to Melina, she was sitting with Valor in her arms.

    Melina slowly caressed his face, closing his eyes, "I hope he dreamed of me for a whole minute, as he had said." Tears were running down uncontrollably down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen.

    "That he surely had, Melina I know it is hard for you currently," The woman elf touched her back. "This would sound harsh to you, but this is something I also learned the hard way. When you learn to love someone, you should also learn to let go of them, as nothing lasts for ever."

    Melina sat there silently, crying. She did not speak, the room was silent except the crackling of a nearby fire and Melina''s heavy breathing.

    "Someone told me this sentence a long time ago," The woman slowly looked up, reminiscing. "When I first heard of it, I thought it was crazy, as long as I love someone dearly, I would not have the need to let them go, that was what I thought and believed. But one day, he left the world peacefully. And that''s when I realized what those words mean."

    "Aunt March," Melina said in a low, shaky voice. "I will leave the village. I will never return unless the traditions are changed and I hear the news of them."

    "I cannot persuade you to stay now, can I? After all, I doubt you would want to see your father again." Aunt March gave a painful smile. Melina, who was a kind young elf, has been broken into nothing but a shell of her former self.

    She very well knew that she couldn''t fix her, Melina had to do that herself. And her brother, Melina''s father, cannot be charged with any crime as he killed someone of another race, and also the fact that he was a chief added an extra bit of protection.

    She watched as Melina walked away, Valor''s corpse floating by her side. "That poor soul, she has been through a lot in the span of one day."

 Chapter 34 Selenas everyday life... Crashed?

    Selena was put down inside her crib, her little body wrapped in a cozy blanket, she looked like the world''s tiniest, cutest wizard.Outside, her father was in full warrior mode, training with swords that looked twice as big as her. It had only been a few days since she entered the world, but boy (girl), was it a whole new world from the last time. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    In this life, thanks to the ever-helpful deity of stories, she was born into a family that actually loved her. That was a huge upgrade from her past life, where she was pretty sure her family''s idea of bonding time involved talent competitions.

    The kicker? Her new parents knew she was a reincarnated baby. Yup, not your usual newborn experience. "Oh, look at our beautiful daughter! She''s so precious!" Also them: "By the way, did you know she''s lived before and has all these cool ether powers?"

    Totally normal, right? And to make things even more extra, the Deity of Stories had gone ahead and blessed her with the language of the phoenix, which, fun fact, was her actual race. How cool was that?

    She had heard her parents say that how much of a blessing she was for them. Selena couldn''t talk yet, but if she could, she''d probably say something like, "Well, I''m kind of a big deal." But for now, all she could do was lie there and bottle it up, as any self-respecting magical baby would.

    While speaking wasn''t on the menu, her ethercraft? Oh, that was a different story. She remembered it all, clear as day, from her first encounter with the deity.

    The blue hair, the blue eyes¡ªvery aesthetically pleasing, by the way¡ªwho had offered her three skills of her choosing. And the Phoenix language thing! Thanks, blue-haired Deity.

    When she was presented with a bunch of scrolls to pick her skills, she went straight for the second row like it was the dessert table at a buffet. She had asked very politely if she could skip the first row¡ªbecause those were for suckers, clearly¡ªand the kind deity was more than happy to oblige. The three golden tickets she picked were Edit, Ether Genius, and Psyche Genius.

    Now, Edit was a real gem. It let her mess with people''s minds, as long as their psyche wasn''t stronger than hers. Sure, the description said she could only control five people at once, but there was a little note at the back of the scroll saying that she could bump that number up if she had enough ether. Challenge accepted, she thought to herself.

    Their house was the perfect place to grow up as a phoenix child with world-altering powers. It was a cozy wooden cabin, nestled between a couple of giant trees, almost as if the forest had just decided to casually handcraft the most idyllic home possible.

    The walls were a warm oak, each beam etched with tiny runes that gave the place a warm glow at night, but she never felt hot.

    The windows were big, letting in soft sunlight that made the whole room feel like it was always late afternoon, the golden hour. Inside, everything was simple but sturdy. A big stone hearth sat in the middle of the main room, and the floor was covered in soft, woven rugs that made even crawling around seem like a luxury.

    She lived in a much better mansion, but it was as suffocating as it was luxurious. She was more happy in a warm wooden house rather than an extremely competitive mansion with threats in every corner.

    She could hear her father outside, probably swinging a sword at a training dummy like it had personally offended him. Life was peaceful, quiet, and¡ª

    Suddenly, the door crashed open. There went the peace.

    Her mom barged in, she looked as if she had just sprinted from the far end of the forest. And she wasn''t alone.

    Behind her came another woman, equally as rushed, but what really caught Selena''s attention was the bundle in the woman''s arms. No, scratch that¡ªbundles. One was a masked man in a suit, ''Was that standard in a fantasy world, or did her parents choose to live inside a forest in an industrial era? The man looked like he''d seen better days, and the other one in her hand was¡­ an egg?

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Melina couldn''t believe her eyes, March¡ª her aunt, was near deathbed when she left (''near'', not on deathbed), and here she was, standing as if she was just out on a stroll. Melina, couldn''t cry anymore, but if she did, she would have been crying the first tears of joy after coming back here. Without a second thought, she jumped into her aunt''s arms.

    "Oh, my girl, have you decided to come back?" March hugged her tightly, "Have you thought about what I said before you left?"

    Melina pulled herself away after a warm hug, she blinked once "You still remember that?"

    "Of course, it would be stranger if I did not. That was our last conversation was it not."

    Suddenly, another man appeared, he was not an elf. "Sorry, I brought him here as he said he was here to look for Melina." The young elf guardian who had blocked her before was escorting him.

    She looked at who it was, it was Gereon, the master whom she currently serve, as well as her teacher. "Patriarch Gereon," She gave him a slight bow, lifting her skirt slightly.

    "I was confident that wherever you got teleported to, you would be safe. But that doesn''t seem to be the case." Gereon knew about her past, and he had helped her heal, even though only slightly.

    The real one who had helped her build a new shell and come out of the void that was consuming her was Eleyn. Eleyn became her only friend after she had left the village.

    Melina was about to tell him about how teleportation out of the elves'' land was not possible without the permission of a tree spirit, but she heard a loud crash inside the chief''s house, grabbing everyone''s attention.

 Chapter 35 Life is not all butterflies and flowers

    Melina sat near her father, he had a chronic illness that plagued him for the past five decades, and he had been holding on hoping to see his daughter one more time, just wanting to ask her for forgiveness. But now, all of his dreams had shattered, his strength was gone, and his willpower no longer was holding back the disease.Gereon was outside, he was speaking to March, Melina''s aunt. While he did not know her previously. he was pretty enthusiastic to meet someone his disciple always held close.

    "What kind of girl was she," Gereon decided to strike up the conversation. "When I first met her, she was like a cornered animal, a girl always on her guard. She even tried to attack me you know. But I could sense her sorrow, her pain, I then took her under my wing."

    "Melina huh?" March said as if she was reminiscing of the olden times. "She was the kindest and the most brilliant of the younger generation, our age gap was only about two decades, so we were more like sisters than anything. Always looking out for each other, always the first to lend a hand."

    "Then she''s really changed," He nodded "She has become a ruthless mage who does not show an inkling of kindness or mercy to her opponents. But to me and Eleyn, she is still that kind-hearted soul." He could not contain his smile, "She''s even taken to teaching the younger ones."

    "I am glad to hear that!" March''s eyes softened, "When she left, she was nothing but a broken soul, so much broken to the point that I did not know how to repair her. So I left her to her own choices, hoping she would find her way, though it pained me¡ª more than I could ever explain."

    Inside the room, the chief was having a conversation with his daughter, maybe his last conversation with her, ever. The last chance to bridge the gap between them, a bridge that had collapsed two centuries ago.

    "Daughter..." The chief was speaking with heavy breath, his face was a mix of sadness and lingering regrets.

    "I told you this before and I will tell you this again," Her eyes were cold and indifferent to the person on a deathbed in front of her. "My father had died two centuries ago, you are nothing but a stranger."

    "They say when you learn to love, you should also learn to let them go." He gave her a sad smile, but her face was still indifferent. "You were my only joy after your mother died... and after you left me... every day had been a hell for me."

    "I could not care less, you think I have been living in heaven after I left? No... It was the same for me too, it was hell." Her indifferent act was faltering. Happy memories she spent with her mother replaying itself in her mind, her father was with them, but she tried hard not to remember his old face.

    "They lied you know, when they said you have to learn to let go... After all, people will never learn to let go." He looked at her, "How could you... cough... love someone earnestly if you learn to let them go?... Only after they have left would you realize that... that they are gone, then you learn to cope."

    Melina looked as if she was still in tears, she was hesitant, she never completely disliked her father, she never could. But it was hard for her to accept her part which still loved the person who had killed her beloved.

    "Melina," he took her hand, "You don''t have to forgive me, but please, will you at least call me your father? You used to call me daddy before... you know... everything."

    Melina couldn''t hold back her tears anymore, the word struck her heart like a thorn, it was embarrassing, she was an old elf who was more than two and a half century old, yet how many times had she cried after coming here?

    Her cold, dry eyes began swelling up. Her father''s face became clear in her mind, the moments they had spent together.

    "Da... Dad-dy" She spoke with difficulty, "Dad I... most of me still hates you, but there is a small part which still wants to..." It was difficult for her to say the next word, "to love you,"

    She started to shed tears uncontrollably "A part that still wants to see you as my dear old father, a part which still wants to forgive you." She spoke through her tears, which ran down her cheeks and dripped off her chin,

    "I forgive you, Dad... And when you see Valor after you... after you die..." She closed her eyes and continued, her voice was breaking, But she mustered up a painful smile. "Please tell him that I am living happily."

    "Thank you... Melina, I am really glad... and I will tell Valor." And with that he closed his eyes, never to open them again, a happy smile on his face, a face with no regrets. He died like a man who had experienced everything life had to offer, and thus Melina''s father left the world, peacefully.

    ...

    ''You know Melina, When a person dies, it is said that their brain will play back their memories with the most important person in their lives." She remembered what Valor had said. ''I heard it can last as long as a minute.'' So she sat there, near her father''s lifeless body, for a whole minute. Hoping he would see the happy memories that they made together... one more time.

    March came in, together with Gereon, "He passed huh, I am quite sad." She said with a heavy smile. She wanted to cry, but she had lost her emotions a long while back "What were his last words? Mel?"

    "He said he was glad... I forgave him." She still did not get up.

    "It has been a minute Melina, I am sure had been seeing you and your mother. After all, you really look much like her."

    "Patriarch Gereon," Melina looked at Gereon, "Let''s leave after my father''s burial."

    "It would be discourteous to do otherwise, I would have stopped you if you were to leave before that." He gave her a comforting smile, the one that masters give when their disciple are going through a lot, in order to calm them.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In another dimension, Clio sat on a throne, the place was completely dark, yet everything present was visible. "That was a good story with a lot of recording potential, should I give him a clone for just recording? He and Selena being a baby won''t currently help." She was talking to herself, weighing her choices. "And they still have to break free to world and out of that damn Night guy."

    Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 36 The great cameraman... Minus all the aura

    Judge''s head was spinning like a top in a hurricane, the kind of dizziness that usually ended with him hugging a toilet bowl. But of course, the whole vomiting thing was out of the question¡ªmostly because, well, he didn''t really have much of a stomach to speak of these days.He mentally wrote down a note for future improvements. "Add stomach to clone body. Maybe intestines, too. Possibly a liver. Could come in handy." Eating through a clone? That could be fun.

    He was going to need all the tricks he could get. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Across from him, Eleyn dropped down onto the sofa, which, to Judge''s quiet disappointment, was entirely too normal for a dragon. Not a single inch of gold was in sight inside the house, he somehow felt ''normal''.

    "So¡ª" she began, rubbing her sore joints, "tell me, why is my child inside a mannequin? A very hard mannequin at that? I swear, I almost dislocated my joints trying to lift him and run all the way here."

    Seraphis let out a snort, practically rolling her eyes. "Dislocated your joints? You''re a dragon, Eleyn. A dragon. Dislocating your joints would be like... I don''t know, a rock complaining about a stubbed toe.

    I''d believe you more if you said your mannequin son defeated a Sky Talon."

    Judge bit his tongue, fighting the urge to blurt out, I did defeat a Sky Talon! At least the bird had to be one, since he did not know the names of monsters, he was quick to assume that was its name. Oh wait, Clio had told him about that bird, it was indeed sky talon.

    But saying that he had defeated a sky talon would only lead to more questions (well, it was more like a comedy show. And the bird retreated), and questions meant explanations, and explanations meant way more work than he wanted to deal with right now.

    He had bigger problems, like how to explain his current predicament. Maybe it was time to trust Seraphis, though that seemed riskier than jumping into an active volcano.

    "Hey," Seraphis suddenly turned to Eleyn, her tone casual but her words anything but, "You know your kid''s reincarnated, right? That''s not a shocker for you?"

    Eleyn blinked, looking genuinely confused for a moment. "One of them is. I know that much. Just not sure which one." She sighed, shrugging like it was no big deal. You know, standard parenting stuff¡ªcould be the reincarnated child, could just be regular old dragon offspring.

    "Well, congratulations. It''s this one." Seraphis motioned toward Judge like she was presenting a prize at a game show. "Story Deity, I''m guessing?"

    "Yep. Story Deity."

    Judge, who had been sitting there trying to stay as invisible as possible (which, ironically, was quite difficult when you were a sentient mannequin), couldn''t help but pipe up. "Wait, how do you know the Story Deity? Cli¡ª"

    "Judge," his mother''s voice cut through the air like a sharp knife, her eyes narrowing into that dangerous ''Mom Look'' that could pierce through a mountain. "Go back to your body. I still don''t know where you got this mannequin and mask from, but you''re going back. Now."

    Before Judge could protest, Seraphis interrupted, ever the instigator. "Hang on, Eleyn. Give him a break. It''ll take time to crack that egg anyway." She pointed to the egg in the corner, the one that Judge had entirely forgotten about in the middle of the chaos. "Besides, I''m curious too. How does he know about the Story Deity?

    Maybe she talked to him?"

    Right on cue, Seraphis'' husband barged in, sweaty and shirtless, clearly fresh from some sort of intense training session.

    His white hair was untidy, and every muscle in his body seemed to be showing off like it was auditioning for a role in an action movie, his red eyes were killing it.

    "Honey," Seraphis'' voice dropped to a dangerous low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine even if you were an immortal mannequin and didn''t have a spine, "Would it kill you to wear a shirt? You know, the loose ones I made for your training? Or are they just for show now?"

    Judge was absolutely certain that his day couldn''t get weirder. But hey, with dragons, reincarnation, and a shirtless muscle parade, who really knew anymore?

    "Heh sorry Ser," He rubbed his temples awkwardly. "I just wanted to enjoy the sunbathing. I''ll just get changed quickly." He hurried off. That was when he saw a crib, and a white-haired baby was sleeping peacefully inside it, are all babies born with hair?

    Judge, as intelligent as he was, quickly pieced together some information. Clio had told him that he would meet his colleague sooner than expected, and both Seraphis and his mother knew about The story Deity, Aka, Clio.

    So if he were to make an educated guess, Seraphis'' baby was the colleague Clio spoke of. And Clio had notices of their arrival to both of their parents. There was no other way that Clio had spoken to people from this world.

    "The story Deity had spoken to me after I married Alex, she told me that one of my children would be a child from my previous life. I guess Judge used to be my child in my previous life."

    Judge, though he just thought of this scenario, was still surprised to hear that. Clio was breaking all the stereotypes of a typical reincarnation story, it felt illegal for some reason.

    "She said the same to me, but was a little more direct. She said my firstborn will be a reincarnated soul." They both had a nonchalant tone when they were speaking of this, making Judge wonder if these were normal.

    "I will return to the egg, but please get me out quickly, Mom." Judge (Clone) left for his studio without waiting for a reply, he wanted to see the repair progress, but he just left without checking.

    Judge dreamed of the sweetest dream, he was swimming in money, everyone was bowing to him. The people who was against him were no longer against him, because they could not protest from inside a grave.

    Judge finally stood inside a luxurious office, which was inside a tall skyscraper. He could see the entire city from his office, he was drinking wine and laughing like a maniac¡ª wait... Wine?

    The sweet dream of his was shattered, warmth spread all over him, he screamed as he opened his eyes.

    He was inside the egg, but the shell was broken, and he could still feel the warmth from below, he looked around. The scene was horrifying, there was fire all around him, like he was put inside a hot pot, but in an egg.

    "Oh, my baby is crying." Eleyn rushed to him.

 Chapter 37 Why My Family Doesnt Do Normal

    Judge finally got his meal after what felt like the longest day in existence. Seriously, the day had stretched so far, that it probably took ten chapters to cover (maybe even more ¡ª I am too lazy to check). He was just happy to finally get some rest, even if the rest involved being fed like a baby, which, inconveniently, he currently was.Just as things were starting to feel somewhat normal (as normal as things could get for a reincarnated baby), the door flew open with a crash (not that hard but, come on), and Seraphis stormed in, carrying her own baby in one arm and what looked like excitement in the other. Judge almost choked on his milk. Not that he could, but the thought was there. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Judge!" Seraphis called his name, her tone making him think twice about maintaining eye contact. Hearing someone call you by your name while trapped in the body of an actual newborn was quite unsettling. "Where did you get that mannequin, and where did you hide it?"

    Eleyn, his ever-protective mother, shot her a glare sharp enough to cut through the air. "Sera, my baby is finally resting after a long day, and here you are, interrupting him. And for what? So you can talk about mannequins?"

    Seraphis wasn''t backing down, though. She sighed, adjusting the baby in her arms. "Look, I didn''t know he was a newborn. I mean, have you seen how well he fights? Honestly, you should spar with him when you get the chance. I was impressed!

    Plus, have I mentioned how arrogant and disrespectful he was during the fight?"

    Eleyn''s expression softened into a dangerously sweet smile, which usually meant trouble. "He''s my child, Sera. He can be as arrogant and disrespectful as he likes, especially when it comes to enemies. Who are you to complain?"

    Seraphis crossed her arms, very irritated. "Of course. Why am I not surprised?"

    Judge, meanwhile, was practically screaming inside his own head. Why is my reincarnated baby self the topic of conversation? Can I just eat my meal in peace without someone dragging my name through the mud?

    But before he could telepathically send a complaint to the universe, another figure entered the room¡ªSeraphis'' husband, Corwin, looking like he''d been pulled straight out of a heroic ballad. Muscles? Check. The perfect amount of sweat to seem rugged yet not gross? Double-check. Shirt?

    Yeah, right.

    Corwin sighed dramatically, clearly used to this kind of thing. "Could both of you please stop arguing? There are two children in this room, and somehow, the actual adults are acting more childish than the babies."

    "Sorry, Corwin," Eleyn said with a smirk. "Must be tough living with such an immature wife every day. Poor little Selena." She chuckled.

    Corwin chuckled too, shrugging like it was no big deal. "You get used to it. Besides, she''s got that whole ''angry but lovable'' thing going for her."

    Before Judge could even process this exchange, the room filled with laughter, the kind you only get from family gatherings where everyone''s been through some ridiculous stuff together.

    It was warm, it was lively, and it was dangerously close to wholesome¡ªsomething Judge wasn''t entirely comfortable with.

    His days were typically filled with more "silent scheming" and "I-swear-this-contract-won''t-ruin-your-life" moments. You know, the classics, not laughing along with half-dressed pheonix and dragons.

    But this was not half bad, he was longing for an atmosphere like this, all while hiding behind the pain of reality. Yeah, it was safe to assume that he did not live a fulfilling life. He wanted this moment to last for ever.

    ¡ª

    Why am I here? It was the first thought that came to his mind.

    Judge was in his studio, he checked the condition properly, it had repaired by itself. He was now inside the throne room, except there was no throne. He could feel the intense glare of his mother from the side. The kind of glare that made grown warriors reconsider their life choices.

    "So, you are able to make adjustments to your own body while you are inside this... Sudio of yours?"

    "Studio" Judge corrected her.

    "Yes studio," she said, rolling her eyes. "so can you adjust other''s body too?"

    "If they sign a contract with me. I am not sure as I have not tried it yet." Judge felt uncomfortable lying to his mom, but he could make a guess on who he would be signing the contract with and adjust the body of¡ª if that was possible.

    Seraphis held Selena, the white haired baby, close to her. "What kind of contract is it?"

    Judge swallowed, Here we go. "This might sound weird," He began, mentally preparing himself, "but it is a contract that lets the contracted act strictly in a drama according to the script I write."

    The awkward silence that followed was... Awkward.

    His mother blinked. Seraphis blinked. Even Corwin, who was probably used to bizarre conversations, looked slightly confused. Judge internally cringed. Wow, great pitch there, genius.

    He did not lie but he did not speak the whole truth, but he knew she would not be convinced with this.

    "I got the skill from the deity of stories."

    "Figures"

    "It has a truth effect, which means if I cannot fulfill the conditions I set, I cannot give you the contract. So, there is no harm in trying."

    Seraphis was not convinced, but Corwin stepped up, placing a comforting hand on his wife''s shoulder. "I trust Eleyn''s child, even more so if they were her child in the previous life too. So I trust you." Making his wife sigh.

    "So how do we go about this? Don''t tell me you are gonna make my child hold a pen and actually sign, she isn''t even a week old."

    "Don''t worry, she only has to accept it with her mind." Judge tried to summon a contract, "I promise to change your appearance to your older self or in any form you desire." To his surprise and fulfilling everyone else''s expectations, a contract sheet was summoned.

    "Now Selena, only accept it if you want, and like the conditions, we won''t force anything upon you," Corwin said.

    Yeah, folks, that was a father''s conversation with his one-week-old baby. Don''t be so irresponsible like Corwin or clueless like Seraphis.

 Chapter 38 Gugu gaga! And other baby jargons

    Selena was having none of it. "Uh, do I get a say in this?" she wanted to ask, but her brand-new baby mouth decided to say, "Gugu gaga gu." Wow, truly revolutionary. If there was an award for the least useful baby speech of the century, she was definitely a nominee.She was starting to wonder if reincarnating as a baby in a magical world was really the dream she thought it would be. Her new parents were doting, sure, but now they were talking about signing a contract.

    It was literally her first week of life in this weird fantasy realm, and already the paperwork was piling up. Couldn''t a baby catch a break? Where was her union rep? Not that she ever had one.

    But when her dad tuned in, saying the choice was totally up to her or something along those lines.

    Selena felt something she hadn''t felt in her entire first (or second) life: freedom of choice. No forced deals, no dodgy contracts. Well, sort of. She was still a baby, and also, her dad was a half-naked phoenix, but small wins, right?

    So, she went ahead and accepted the contract. Why not? What''s the worst that could happen? All she had to do was follow some guy''s script. Easy peasy. Plus, the word "drama" was tossed around, and who didn''t love a little theatrics? Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Surely it couldn''t be more stressful than her last job as a reincarnated cameraman.

    Although, now that she thought about it, she probably should''ve asked a few more questions. Like, what kind of drama are we talking about here?

    Once she accepted, Selena, feeling oddly confident for someone who couldn''t even hold her head up yet, mentally screamed, "Okay, I''m in! Now make me bigger!"

    What actually came out was, "Gugu gaga gu." Impressive. Just peak baby nonsense.

    Judge, being the annoyingly calm guy he was, decided to up the drama with a flourish. "You will now be known as Michael, the Virtue of Humility!" he boomed like he was announcing the latest contestant on a magical game show. Humility? Really? Her? And was that guy really supposed to be only days older than her?

    "Judge! What''s with the name?" Her mom, bless her phoenix soul, jumped in with the mom energy she didn''t know she needed.

    "Don''t worry," Judge said, probably too casually for someone handing out life-altering names. "It just means she''s contracted to me."

    Her mom narrowed her eyes, clearly not entirely sold on that. But for some reason, she let it slide. "I trust your words."

    She could not believe her mother just sold her out like that. And then the weirdness started.

    First, Selena found herself floating. Was this normal baby behavior? Floating around like a helium balloon at a birthday party?

    Her body began to glow, not in the "radiant with happiness" way, but more like "someone plugged me into a socket." She was straight-up turning into a fancy magical lightbulb, and if this were a commercial, they''d be calling it "new and improved, now with extra wattage!"

    Then, in a burst of pure fantasy-world over-the-top flair, Selena transformed into a young woman. Not just any young woman¡ªshe was like the most glamorous woman at 18, with long flowing hair, glowing skin, and clothes that looked like they were designed by the most pretentious tailor in the land.

    A mirror appeared out of nowhere (because of course it did), and she got a full look at herself. "Okay," she thought, "this isn''t too bad. Definitely an upgrade from the whole diaper situation."

    But then Judge, ever the master of pushing buttons, had to go and say, "You can change things as you wish. Just will it. You can even create a mannequin if you want. You can share a part of my powers now that you''ve signed a contract. A part¡ªI repeat, only a part," he said, emphasizing the limits like a shady salesman who swears the warranty only covers the left half of your toaster.

    Selena''s eyes lit up like a kid who just found out they could eat candy for breakfast. "Wow, really?" Selena was excited to talk for the first time in this world.

    Meanwhile, Judge was trying to keep his cool, he was quite confused, and he was not expecting the contract to work. "Which just shows that Clio has left many things for me to ponder on," he said, internally.

    He still had many things left to figure out about his skill. But hey, mysteries could wait. Right now, he needed to focus on growth¡ªmentally, physically, and, let''s be honest, emotionally.

    The road to self-discovery had begun, and it involved way more glowing transformations than he had anticipated.

    After Selena had adjusted her shape to her liking, Judge canceled Studio and everyone was back. Back to reality, he thought, ready to put his feet up and enjoy a quiet and relaxed moment for the first time in... well, ever. But the universe had other plans.

    "Judge, do you do ethercraft or weapons?" Eleyn asked, not much of a Mom question to ask, but it was Eleyn, a dragon, and her baby. She could probably turn making a cup of tea into a training montage.

    Judge blinked, this wasn''t the usual "Did you eat?" or "Are you warm enough?" No, this was dragon parenting, where "Do you need a weapon?" replaced "How was school today?"

    "I usually go for ether," he said, thinking about how much he relied on his abilities. "But after that spar with Seraphis, I think I''m starting to like the sword."

    Judge was not the optimal role model of a baby either, but it was Judge, a dragon, and his mother. He was slowly adjusting, and he was taking pride in that.

    "Oh, then you should train under Sera then," Eleyn, clearly not one for small talk, nodded like she was reviewing battle strategies, not discussing the hobbies of her newborn son. "I would gladly train Selena, I could sense her huge reserve of ether, and me being a witch and both Selena''s parents being brutes with swords, I think it would be better if I tried her."

    They were both talking so casually that it felt like they were having a normal afternoon cup of tea, discussing current affairs and nuclear war codes (Yes normal). And it was still morning.

    "Yes, Mom... Wait! Train?" Judge was not liking where this was going.

 Chapter 39 The Art of Saying â€˜Wait, What? When Youre Supposed to be a Genius

    "Yes, Mom... Wait! Train?" Judge was starting to feel a sinking pit in his stomach, the kind of dread usually reserved for horror stories or surprise math exams, and why was it always math?There it was. The "T-word." Training. Judge''s mind spiraled back to memories of his previous life, where "training" was more like a motivational seminar with way too many push-ups. Maybe a bit of meditation, a sprinkle of mana exercises, and, of course, a hefty dose of yelling. But here? In this world?

    Training had a new, more terrifying definition. One that rhymed with PAIN. And lots of it.

    Eleyn, casually waving off his growing panic like it was no big deal, said, "Oh, don''t act so surprised. You didn''t expect to get stronger just sitting around, did you?"

    Sitting around? Yes. Yes, he had expected that, in fact. Judge had grown quite fond of the idea of lounging, plotting in peace, maybe sipping some metaphorical tea while quietly mastering the world from a comfortable chair.

    Nowhere in his grand life plans did "grueling sword training" feature. Yet, here he was. But he knew better than to say NO to his mom.

    He wanted to complain but swallowed it down like bitter medicine. He hadn''t technically signed up for this, right? Well, okay, maybe he had signed a contract or two without reading the fine print, but nowhere did it say, "Prepare to have your entire existence revolve around boot camp."

    He cursed himself for accepting Clio''s proposal, he could imagine her sitting back and eating some popcorn, enjoying the show.

    This was not how he imagined his next few weeks (or centuries) going, his grand plan for being a mastermind with a camera was shattering, right before his eyes.

    And by the look on Selena''s still-glowing face, she wasn''t exactly thrilled about this turn of events either. Her radiant transformation suddenly felt like a raw deal.

    Seraphis, who was watching this whole scenario unfold with way too much excitement, chimed in like a game show host who had just announced the bonus round. "Oh, don''t worry! My training''s a breeze."

    A breeze? Something about her smile suggested otherwise. It was the kind of smile you''d expect from someone who found joy in watching people trip on banana peels. Or survive obstacle courses... without a helmet.

    "We''ll start with basic swordsmanship," Seraphis continued, her grin now somehow even wider. "Then, if you manage not to collapse, we''ll move on to advanced combat techniques. And if you''re still breathing after that, real sparring. You would get pretty good with sword if you manage to survive."

    Judge felt a cold chill travel down his spine. Survive? Did she just say survive? He was still a baby with an adjusted body, not an action hero! This wasn''t going to be some light stretching or an energetic game of tag. No, this sounded like a crash course in medieval survival skills where the final test was...

    staying alive.

    Selena, her glow dimming slightly, shot her mother a pleading look. "Do I have to?" Her baby face said, I signed up for magic powers, not a full-body workout. It was like signing up for a painting class only to be told, "Surprise! You''re also learning to wrestle bears."

    Eleyn, however, was as unbothered as ever, smiling down at Selena with that sweet-yet-deadly parental affection. "Oh, darling, this is just the beginning. Soon, you''ll be able to fend off monsters, swing a sword, and outsmart any enemy."

    Monsters? Swords? Enemies? What happened to finger painting and storytime? Judge tried to muster some sympathy for Selena, but it was hard when he had his own doomsday looming. He almost pitied her.

    Almost.

    Judge''s mental checklist was in shambles. What once was a to-do list with "conquer the world" neatly at the top was now revised to: 1. Survive Phoenix mom''s boot camp. 2. Negotiate fewer life-threatening activities. 3.

    Grow stronger, but, like, maybe without all the bruises?

    As Eleyn and Seraphis started discussing his and Selena''s rigorous futures like they were planning a fun weekend getaway, Judge realized his "relaxed life" was officially and permanently canceled. No refunds.

    And just as he was contemplating escape routes, an odd thought popped into his head, the kind that strikes you late at night when you''re staring at the ceiling, overthinking and worrying about everything and nothing at the same time, all while you are just trying to get some sleep.

    His mom and Seraphis had mentioned how intimidating his presence was¡ªsomething about his willpower. Corwin hadn''t said anything, though, and Selena, for some reason, seemed immune to it. Why was that? He remembered how his mother had touched his forehead earlier, warmth spreading through him like a cozy blanket on a cold day.

    "Was it then?" he muttered under his breath, piecing it together like a detective in a mystery novel. His best guess? His mother had somehow sealed away his intimidating aura, the one he''d been struggling to control. Typical dragon mom. Always two steps ahead. (Not a Nikocado Avocado reference)

    So now, in addition to everything else, Judge had a mystery to solve: Why did I agree to this again? He could imagine Clio just sitting back on her throne, eating popcorn.

    But before he could dwell too much on that, Seraphis clapped her hands. "Alright! Training starts tomorrow at dawn!"

    Dawn? Judge''s soul cried out in agony. Why did all evil plans involve waking up early?

    His mother was no better, "Let me tell Father about this, he said we have to look for Alex." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Alex? What happened to that monster."

    "Dunno, he is been gone for a pretty long time. no contact, bet he is just fooling around." Eleyn turned to Corwin. "Corwin, can you go with my father to look for him?"

    "Are you worried about Alex?" He chuckled, "I will be more worried about his enemies."

    "I know but Father is prettyyy... you know-" Eleyn shook her head.

    "Oh! Then it would be a great show to watch." He was having a heartfelt laugh, the one that made everyone around him smile brighter.

    "And don''t forget to tell him that I will be staying in your house for a week or two." He gave her a thumbs-up, hugged Selena, and left.

    Then he came back, wore a shirt, and then left again. "You sure he is alright?" Judge''s question was unanswered and was instead met with three sharp gazes.

 Chapter 40 Hawthornes Guide to Looking Innocent While Being Vaguely Mysterious

    Hawthorne sat in front of his mercenary commissioner, the nobleman was having a doubtful expression on his face, the expression that said, I cannot trust you but I do not understand why. He had a gut feeling that Hawthorne was hiding something, but he could not tell what... Yet.He wanted to lash at him for not telling it, The nobleman''s brow went down deeper. He wanted to demand answers, to shout, "Tell me what you''re hiding, knave!" But unfortunately for him, Hawthorne had done his part. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He had brought the diary, as promised, and without so much as a smudge on it. So, the nobleman was left sitting in silence, chewing on his suspicions like a particularly tough piece of meat, maybe it''s a piece of chewing gum, you never know.

    The room they sat in did little to lift the mood. It was, in a word, depressing. The kind of room that would make even a moth feel out of place. The walls were as bare as a winter forest, and the only source of light was a sad little kerosene lamp sitting in the corner.

    That kerosene lamp was, in this room, the only decoration to speak of, and those were used only by the poor. Even a middle-class family always used ether lamps, as it was better in every aspect expect cost. It was more efficient, brighter, and infinitely less... bleak. But no, here they were, bathed in the gloomy glow of poverty''s favorite light source.

    The nobleman, still eyeing Hawthorne like he was a puzzle missing several key pieces, finally broke the silence. "Is this everything? No separate papers? No hidden codes or secret principles scrawled on the back of any paper?"

    "This is all," Hawthorne said, as calm as if he were discussing the weather. He picked up the diary and flipped to the last page, tapping his finger on a rather messy lines here and there, along with a crude writing.

    "I think this here is the principle you''re looking for. Though, I must confess, it''s written in a language I don''t recognize. Might be something ancient or... just really bad handwriting."

    The nobleman took the diary, suspicion practically leaking out of his ears at this point. His gut was now demanding he throw Hawthorne in the stocks for a good old-fashioned interrogation, but alas, noble decorum held him back.

    He knew better than to lose his temper, even when every fiber of his being screamed that something was off. Control was, after all, the cornerstone of noble life. That, and pretending to like pheasant meat at feasts.

    Nevertheless, the nobleman wasn''t going to give Hawthorne a free pass. With his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlocked, he assumed the stance of a man who was about to disclose universal insights.

    His tone was composed and calm, but with a hint of terrible things to come if the next response was not sufficient. "Mister Hawthorne, I do not doubt your credibility¡ª"

    Oh, but he does, Hawthorne thought, leaning forward slightly, he knew where this was going.

    "¡ªBut just for the sake of clarity, allow me to ask you this one thing." The nobleman''s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a highly secret, undercover whisper, despite the fact that no one else was in the room. "Can you swear on Lord Veritas, the god of truth? You know... to really seal the deal."

    I knew it! Hawthorne suppressed a groan. Of course, he had to bring Veritas into this. The god of light and truth wasn''t exactly known for his flexibility when it came to bending the facts. But still, Hawthorne wasn''t about to let this nobleman think him untrustworthy. That would be bad for business.

    Raising his right hand with all the grace of a man who''d done this far too many times, Hawthorne declared, "On the name of Lord Veritas, the god of light and truth, I swear that this is the truth. I have brought the diary exactly as I found it.

    I have not taken a single paper containing a principle or anything that my commissioner has paid for." His palm was open, it signifies the speaker''s truthful promise and intentions.

    The nobleman stared at him for a long, unbearable moment, the gears in his head turning like a rusty clockwork. Not realizing the awkward silence he was creating.

    Finally, he leaned back, his suspicion shrinking just a tad. Well, no one would lie under the oath of Veritas, unless they fancied being set ablaze on the spot, and as far as he could tell, Hawthorne wasn''t smoking.

    "I believe you, then," the nobleman finally said, clapping his hands. A butler materialized from the shadows, which was impressive, given that the only shadow in the room was the one cast by the sad little kerosene lamp. The butler was the picture of elegance in a room that could''ve used a good dusting two years ago, carrying with him a cheque.

    The nobleman scribbled his name with an air of someone far too accustomed to signing things without reading them first, then tore off a cheque for 200 sten. "Here is your commission." He slid it across the table like it was no big deal.

    Hawthorne took the cheque without missing a beat, though inside, he couldn''t help but marvel at the sheer absurdity of it all. Two hundred sten! That was a small fortune. Families of four could live off four or five sten a month. And here he was, holding a piece of paper that could feed a village for a year¡ª small village he meant.

    "Thank you, my lord," Hawthorne said, keeping his tone neutral. Inside, however, his mind was already doing the math. That''s enough to buy a small island. Or at least several barrels of the finest wine... Decisions, decisions.

    The nobleman gave a frank nod, clearly still pondering over his own suspicions. Hawthorne could tell the man wasn''t entirely convinced, but for now, he had no reason to complain. And that was just how Hawthorne liked it.

    The nobleman left, the room was in stark contrast to his black carriage. It was adorned with all kind of luxurious decor. Hawthorne silently pocketed his cheque and headed for the bank.

 Chapter 41 The Art of Avoiding Chores: Alexs Guide

    Alex Drakonis, the man who was supposed to be chained and held in some dark, dirty room, and held on top of a rather large runic circle, was instead lounging in a luxurious inn, sipping tea as though his life was some endless vacation.His view? The bustling cityscape, complete with airships called Cloud Weavers floating about, transporting people and goods in a manner that seemed far too casual for giant, gravity-defying vessels. One would think a man fighting a cult would be more... concerned.

    That''s right¡ªhe was supposed to be battling a cult. Or at least, that''s what Alex had convinced himself, right up until the moment he realized it wasn''t a cult at all. Nope, he had (Not) mistakenly picked a fight with a rather well-respected church. Oops. Could happen to anyone, right?

    This particular church was dedicated to the god of night, a mysterious deity whose followers kept their god''s true name under wraps like it was the punchline to some godly joke.

    They would only refer to their deity as "The God of Night," as if saying the actual name would get them a stern talking to. But Alex, being the stubborn dragon he was, had snooped it out of them like a kid sneaking an extra cookie. And he soon understood why.

    "Tenebris. The god of night and false realities," Alex muttered to himself, taking a casual sip from his elaborate teacup. "The god of false realities," he repeated with a raised brow. "I mean, come on, that name just screams ''bad guy.'' Who worships a god whose specialty is making up stuff?"

    But many of the citizens prayed to the god of night when they were headed out at night, it was to keep them protected at night.

    And let''s just say that it was doing a good job, but it was due to some other factors, like a low crime rate and other minor details like natural disaster predictions.

    He was halfway through his third sip, thinking about the logistics of fighting a god that could probably convince him he was a chicken at any given moment, when he felt a familiar, hair-raising presence nearby (If he had hair, other than on his head). The tea, which had been pleasantly soothing a moment ago, suddenly tasted like a terrible idea.

    "Alex¡­" came a voice that somehow managed to be both menacing and warm at the same time. Only one person in his life had that unique gift.

    "Uh, yes, Dad?" Alex replied, nearly choking on his tea, like if that was even possible, as he tried to jump to attention without looking like a guilty child who had just been caught raiding the cookie jar.

    Gereon Drakonis, his father¡ªlegendary, powerful, and the very embodiment of "disappointed dad energy"¡ªstood before him, looking suspiciously calm.

    "It''s the real you this time, right? Not another one of those¡­ what do you call them again?" Gereon asked, narrowing his eyes.

    Alex straightened up, trying to look as real -like as possible. "Yes, Dad, it''s really me!" He forced a smile that might as well have come with its own caption reading: Please don''t ground me into the dust.

    Just like how Judge was scared of his mother, Alex was scared of his father. Both father and son alike, except the father was yet to see the baby.

    Gereon didn''t seem convinced. In fact, he looked like he was one second away from giving Alex a very stern lecture on life choices. "You have any idea how close I came to teleporting to one of your other stuffs? Again?" Gereon''s voice held the kind of frustration that only years of putting up with Alex could cultivate.

    Alex gulped, realizing just how lucky he was to be sitting here sipping tea instead of being on the receiving end of his father''s wrath. "Sorry about that. I''ve been, uh, busy. Very busy. With¡­ cults. And fighting.

    And¡­ tea."

    Gereon sighed, his disappointment noticeable. "Why are you sitting here, sipping tea like some noble on holiday, when you''ve got a newborn at home you haven''t even met yet?"

    Alex froze, mid-sip, and quickly lowered his cup, his face turning a shade paler than usual. Of all the things his father could bring up, this was not what he wanted to deal with. "Uh, well, you see, about that¡­ I was, um, planning to¡ª"

    "Planning to what?" Gereon cut him off, his piercing eyes locking onto Alex with the precision of a seasoned warrior about to strike. "Planning to sit here, drink more tea, and hope I don''t show up? Or were you planning to actually go see your child at some point before their first birthday?"

    "Of course, I was planning to go see her... err... him?!" Alex said defensively, though it didn''t help that his nervous chuckle followed almost immediately. "It''s just that, well, you know how it is with these things. Babies don''t really, uh¡­ do much in the first few weeks."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow. "Babies don''t do much? They breathe, they grow, and they make you a father, Alex. That''s more than enough. And you don''t know the gender? I have failed you as a father, your sister is the only one who can fix you."

    Alex winced. There was no talking his way out of this one, not with his father giving him that look. The "you''ve messed up, but I''m going to let you figure it out while I stand here and judge you" look.

    "Okay, okay, I get it," Alex muttered, finally accepting his defeat, the last person he wanted to see was his sister. "I''ll go see the baby. I just needed to take care of a few things first, that''s all."

    Gereon crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Like fighting a church of all things?"

    Alex flinched. "That was¡­ a misunderstanding. They, uh, don''t take criticism very well."

    His facepalmed, "Thank gods I am in a good mood"

    "Thank who?"

    "What?"

    "No... I, uh... I will go see the baby." Alex knew that his father was a hundred percent atheist, if he ever wanted to worship a god, he would worship himself, he was almost captivated by his father''s high self esteem. Almost. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 42 How to train your dragon

    It was already evening, and Judge was dodging his master''s attacks by a hair''s breadth like a cat on a slippery floor, each of her swings could rearrange his bones like a furniture in a house renewal montage.''Man, I am getting good at this!'' He thought as he dodged another attack by stepping to the side, but that one was just a feint. He realized it too late as he went flying back like a helicopter with a bad motor, and he hit a conveniently placed haystack (Luckily).

    ''Thank the gods for soft landings,'' he groaned inwardly. didn''t I do this yesterday?

    Both the wooden sword and her real sword had no more width than a katana, but the swings came in like a bazooka''s recoil. Even her figure was thin, does thin equals more strength in this world. Judge silently cursed at whoever did the worldbuilding.

    ''Is that a sword or a battering ram?'' Judge thought as he again set sail across the air, this time hitting hard on a tree, leaving a perfect 1:1 scale ratio silhouette of him on the tree.

    "Get up or I will start charging you for the garden repairs," Seraphis called out, leaning forward on her sword which was stabbed on the ground.

    "Where is the garden? I don''t see one," Judge stood up and looked around, but his view suddenly shifted. He was, yet again, on another air cruise. He wondered if he was still alive, ''I am getting too old for this,'' he thought¡ªdespite being a literal baby in his new life¡ªas he flew across the grounds and crashed headfirst into his master''s house. ''Yep, still alive.''

    He landed near the deck where his mother was teaching Selena, her lessons were more of a realxing afternoon tea session, compared to his absolute bone-breaking gladiator match of a lesson.

    "Hey, nice ether trick!" he called to Selena, still upside down. "Wanna switch places? You can take a turn being launched into the stratosphere!"

    Selena just smiled sweetly, a sparkle of smug satisfaction in her eyes. "Ethercraft is an art, Judge," she said, her tone leaning in that particular way only a sibling can manage, and he never had siblings... except in this life. "It requires a calm and composed mind¡ªsomething you clearly don''t have." Her grin practically screamed pity, but in the most insulting way possible.

    did I do this yesterday too? I don''t think so. Judge''s sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu getting stronger.

    "Tch," Judge muttered, rolling his eyes and flipping himself upright. "Why did I ever agree to help transform your body anyway?"

    He got up, thankfully, his master did not come swinging at him with her wooden sword the moment he got up¡ª oh wait... hold that thought. He kissed the earth goodbye, literally and metaphorically, yet again. ''Is this a sword or a medieval artillery piece?'' he mused mid-air

    When he finally picked himself up off the ground, ready for the next round of beatings, he noticed something unusual¡ªSeraphis wasn''t charging at him with her sword raised.

    Instead, she just stood there, scratching her head in a way that said she was thinking, though Judge wasn''t sure if that should be more terrifying than the sword. Note to himself, she can think. He felt like he had found a clue to the world''s secrets.

    "This isn''t working out!" she exclaimed, sounding more irritated than anything.

    Judge blinked. Was this a joke? "Then why are you trying to kill me?!" he cried out, genuinely confused. There were moments today where he was fairly sure he had seen his life flash before his eyes ¨C several times over.

    "You''re a dragon," Seraphis said dismissively, as if that explained everything. "You won''t die from this ¡ª even remotely." she brushed it off as if they were discussing what kind of toys children like.

    She tossed her sword into a pile of wood with the casual attitude of someone throwing away a candy wrapper.

    She started walking toward her house. "Come on, Judge. Let me teach you my personal principles. You''re clearly not ready for what I had planned."

    ''Wait, teach? Like, with words? Why didn''t we start with that instead of the spontaneous air travel sessions?''

    Judge frowned, he could feel a strange sense of ''repeating the same day'' wash over him. Didn''t she say something like this yesterday? No, that couldn''t be right¡ª this was their first day of training, wasn''t it? Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ''Maybe it''s fatigue,'' he thought, brushing it off. But something about it still gnawed at the back of his mind. Maybe he needed a vacation... or at least a soft chair to sit on after this absurd day of being launched across the yard like a human cannonball.

    ''Note to self,'' he thought dryly, ''Invest in body armor. And a better sense of self-preservation.''

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was almost evening. "Clara!" A cloaked man hurried through the woods, his desperate steps almost stumbling over roots as he chased after a little girl who was far too agile for her age.

    His hand was stretched out, as if in a desperate attempt to catch her, though she was already a good distance ahead of him. "I told you, it''ll be the end of us if we go into the forest!"

    "You''ve been acting weird since morning!" Clara shouted back without even turning her head, her small figure dashing through the underbrush like a mouse trying to escape a predator.

    "What are you hiding, Percival? I won''t listen unless you tell me!" She was throwing a fit, as young children often do, but Percival''s face was engraved with fear. He wasn''t just afraid of losing sight of her¡ªhe was scared of something else.

    "I will tell you if you just come back," His voice cracked, getting more desperate and frantic, "Please, Clara, listen to me... Please."

    She ignored his pleading, her speed quickening with a determined mind. Soon, they reached the edge of the outer forest. Percival, panting and clearly out of breath, had resorted to begging her to stop, his voice cracking with desperation.

    "Miss Mina went inside!" Clara was still not giving up, as if that was all the justification she needed.

    Before Percival could catch up or muster a response, it happened.

    A terrifying, sudden sight¡ªClara''s head flew into the air, her body crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.

    No scream, no warning, her innocent smile still fixed on her face, as if she hadn''t even registered the horror of what had happened, she was still enjoying her chase with Percival. There was no sign of the killer, no trace of who or what had caused it.

    Percival froze in his tracks, his mind had already registered what had happened as he let out a scream. "CLARAAAA!" But even before his voice echoed in the woods, his fate was sealed.

    His head, too, followed Clara''s suit, severed cleanly from his body in an instant. And just like with Clara, there was no visible attacker¡ªjust the silence of the forest and the lifeless bodies that lay on the muddy ground.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes to a familiar evening, he was lying on a patch of grass, it felt familiar¡ª too familiar. His heartbeat quickened as a chilly sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu slowly started to creep inside his mind.

    But that could not be right, this was his first time here, right? Or maybe he laid here yesterday.

    "No..." he muttered, "I was inside that damn egg yesterday." He tried to remember but nothing was off in his memories, he started training with his master today... and was hit in the head.

    "Ahh, that might be the reason!" He stood up, he had been knocked unconscious by his tutor "I wish she would just go easier on me," He looked at his master waiting patiently for him.

 Chapter 43 When Life Gives You Swords, Dodgeâ€”And Then Blame the Universe

    Judge had only been at it for a few hours, and already, he was feeling like a sword-fighting prodigy. He could read his master''s attacks with alarming accuracy, almost as if she had become a predictable NPC in a poorly coded game.Each time she swung with enough force to turn his bones into confetti, he managed to deflect or dodge just in time¡ªby the hair on his skin, mind you, and he did not have hair on his skin since it was full of scales.

    Whenever there was no escape route and he found himself staring down the barrel of her wooden sword, he''d redirect the blow with his own, trying to minimize the damage like a discount shield with a zero refund policy.

    He still felt the impact, of course, but it was the difference between being mildly uncomfortable and becoming tomorrow''s feature in Worst Training Accidents Weekly.

    His enhanced cognition was firing on all cylinders, absorbing and analyzing her attack patterns like an overzealous student cramming for finals.

    With each exchange, he could sense the pattern, the ebb and flow of the fight¡ªalmost like he''d danced this deadly tango before. (Tango is a dance performed by partners)

    Was this... muscle memory? No, that didn''t make sense. His muscles hadn''t had enough time to learn the "Don''t Die Horribly" technique. So why did everything feel weirdly... familiar?

    ''Have I been hit in the head one too many times?'' Judge wondered mid-parry as another blow whistled past his ear. ''Or is this some weird side effect of being a dragon? Do dragons get d¨¦j¨¤ vu? Is there a manual for this?''

    But there was something else bugging him¡ªsomeone else, to be precise. Selena. She was acting differently today, as though she wasn''t her usual smug self.

    Less of her usual smugness and more of... well, just regular smugness, but there was something off about it. He remembered what Clio had told him about the Scriptwriter and got an idea. Why not talk to her directly¡ª mentally?

    ''Selena,'' he called out telepathically, focusing his voice on her mind like a toddler trying to aim a water pistol for the first time.

    "Huh?!" Selena shrieked, mentally, and the delicate fireball she was controlling exploded like an overfilled water balloon, scattering out into harmless embers.

    ''Smooth,'' Judge thought, dodging another swing by stepping sideways just as a wooden sword slid by his nose. "Don''t you think we''ve done this before? This exact thing? Though it''s supposedly Day One of training?"

    "Uhh... yeah... now that you mention it... I do feel like I am getting a weird... I dunno, d¨¦j¨¤ vu?" she replied telepathically, her mental voice carrying the tone of someone trying to brush off an awkward encounter. "But, uh, warning next time before you do this mind-talk thing.

    Almost incinerated my eyebrows."

    Judge rolled his eyes. "Priorities, Selena. Just look at me training and tell me how do I do it."

    Ignoring Judge, her concentration was quick to return to her lesson, and he was left wondering about the strange repetition in the air. Something was definitely off. He didn''t need to be a master manipulator to sense that.

    Before he could delve deeper into the mystery, Seraphis, his ever-vigilant master, came to an abrupt halt, standing there like she''d just realized she left the stove on.

    "This isn''t working out!" she declared, more to herself than to him, and began marching toward the house. "Come on, Judge. We need to teach you my personal ethercraft principle. I acknowledge your skill, but you''re clearly struggling here, and it is just the beginning phase."

    Judge blinked. Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. That line¡ªshe''d said it before, hadn''t she? Like, yesterday... which wasn''t actually yesterday.

    Or was it? His brain twisted in tangles as he tried to remember the last time he''d been this confused.

    But this was not just a feeling. Something was definitely repeating.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge snapped awake, lying on that same suspiciously familiar patch of grass he had visited more times than a good napper should. "Oh, come on!" he yelled, looking at the sky. "I knew it! This isn''t just a weird dream!"

    He quickly transported himself into the Studio, his safe space for sorting out the nonsense of life.

    "Clio!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the studio''s now-empty walls like an angry boomerang. "I need answers, and you better show up with them! No riddles, no cryptic messages¡ªjust plain facts!"

    The air shimmered, and with a voice like nails on a chalkboard dipped in honey, Clio appeared. "What? You finally noticed?" she drawled, sounding like she had known this would happen all along and couldn''t be bothered to care. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge frowned, already annoyed by her very presence. "So something was wrong!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Why didn''t you say anything sooner?!"

    Clio flicked a speck of dust (imaginary) off her shoulder, totally unbothered by his outrage. "I figured you''d piece it together eventually. You know, with that fancy enhanced cognition of yours."

    She put her hand to the chest "The same Enhanced Cognition that ''I'' gave you." Maybe she just wanted to look cooler.

    "You mean the same enhanced cognition that was too busy dodging medieval artillery dressed up as sword training to realize I was stuck in a time loop?!" Judge shot back, throwing his hands up in annoyance.

    Clio grinned, the kind of grin that made him want to punch a wall and then apologize to it for the emotional rage... And then maybe scream at a pillow until the feather begged for mercy. "Well, you''re here now, aren''t you?"

    Judge groaned, rubbing his temples like someone trying to massage away the sheer silliness of his situation that should have been, in fact, taken very seriously. This was going to be a long day¡ªor, more accurately, another long yesterday. Or maybe it was today again? Whatever, he did not care.

    "So tell me, Clio," He accepted his defeat, no matter how much he plotted, there was no getting rid of her. "What in the... What was this world''s name again?"

    "Aark" She rolled her eyes like a toddler trying to explain how her Lego builds made sense. And Judge wanted to consider taking up therapy just to deal with her.

    "Ah yes Aark," He coughed in order to mask his embarrassment, "So, what in the Aark is going on?"

    "So," She made herself a throne and sat on it, there is this one guy¡ª"

    "Is this the part where you go on a five-minute presentation that explains nothing but makes you sound really important?" Judge interrupted, folding his arms.

    "Shhh, I''m doing a monologue," Clio replied with a wave of her hand, as if he were a minor inconvenience in the grand theater of her life. How old was she anyway?

    Judge pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This day¡ªor whatever it was¡ªwas just getting worse. "You are really annoying you know."

    "Did you know that we both have the same habits?"

    "I have to disagree... and stop changing the subject." Judge wanted to look menacing, but he just could not. If it was some one else, other than his mother, he could have managed.

 Chapter 44 Intense staring contest: Clio wins (Obviously)

    Judge and Clio were locked in the most intense staring contest of the century¡ªor at least it would have been, if Clio weren''t eating popcorn.No, not eating¡ªdevouring it like she was watching the most fascinating drama unfold. The real drama? She was supposed to explain something crucial, and instead, here she was munching away, while Judge''s patience was swinging loosely by a thread thinner than Clio''s obvious attention span.

    Should I call it chick pop? he wondered, mid-glare. Popcorn sounds so... generic. Or maybe generic was the one for her.

    Judge sighed and looked away, breaking the so-called contest. In Clio''s mind, that was an immediate, devastating loss for Judge. She mentally raised a victory banner¡ªcomplete with fanfare¡ªwhile stuffing another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

    For someone who was supposedly responsible for recording mortal tales, she sure was dedicated to this nonsense. None of her impulsive, almost cartoonish behavior gave any hints of her being a deity.

    But, of course, everyone except Judge seemed to be terrified of her, convinced that at any moment she might unleash divine wrath.

    Was she acting? Was she always like this? Or did she just enjoy tormenting him? Either way, the nicest thing Judge could feel toward her was a mild, slow-burning irritation. The kind of irritation that could fuel a thousand sarcastic remarks, but even that was starting to wear down.

    "Clio... I am serious here," he said, his voice adopting that "I''m talking to a child" tone, which, incidentally, was becoming his default setting around her.

    "Oh, let me tell you one thing," Clio said through a mouthful of popcorn¡ª sorry, chick pops?¡ªwhich she was now trying to polish off like it was her life''s mission. She paused dramatically after that sentence, causing Judge''s eyebrow to twitch in barely suppressed rage. "You are not in a time loop."

    "Yeah, I already knew tha¡ª Wait, hold on. NOT in a time loop?!" His cool demeanor cracked, just a little. He''d lost posture, straightened up, lost it again, and tried to act casual.

    His mind raced, quickly trying to recover whatever dignity he could. Okay, so maybe I didn''t see that coming, but¡ªhe internally justified himself¡ªmaybe we both have a bad habit of being overconfident. Maybe. Just maybe.

    "What do you mean ''NOT in a time loop''? Then what was that d¨¦j¨¤ vu nonsense?!" He demanded, his hands were trembling in frustration, he wanted to hit a wall or whatnot.

    "Don''t tell me I''m seeing the future or... or some other ridiculous thing!" He barely managed to stop himself from swearing, not a rare feat for him. Maybe it''s better if I keep the narrative under 18, he thought. I''d rather not get censored.

    Clio gave him a smug, lazy grin, as if she were about to drop the most obvious truth bomb in history. "I''m sure even that floppy brain of yours, which does nothing but plot, can figure it out." She waved a hand like she was dismissing an annoying fly. "But fine, I''ll give you a clue since I can''t stand the idea of you moping over this for too long."

    Judge leaned in. Please, please, for once, just give me a straight answer, he thought desperately. The woman was a walking puzzle wrapped in a riddle, topped with a bow of pure, unchained chaos. Whatever she was about to say, he prayed it would be useful.

    "Lucifer''s victim is resurrecting," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but still audible. Then, poof, she disappeared into thin air, leaving Judge in a state of existential crisis.

    Judge stared at the space Clio had vacated. Resurrecting? Victim? Lucifer? He was tempted to lie down, close his eyes, and pretend like the world didn''t exist. Maybe I should just opt for early retirement, or, you know, a nice session of long-term therapy.

    But of course, there was no time for that, and he knew it. The plot, as always, had other plans.

    "Hawthorne''s victim, huh?" He stood up, shaking off the existential phobia creeping into his mind. For now, he decided to let that whole resurrection bit stew in the back of his mind¡ªafter all, nothing says "urgent" like "someone you thought was dead isn''t."

    With a deep sigh, Judge changed the room back to how it looked when he first met Hawthorne, taking his throne with a casual flop. He needed answers. And when you need answers, you call the expert troublemaker.

    Mentally, he reached out, "Lucifer," his tone almost business-like.

    There was a long pause. Then, at last, a flustered voice echoed in response. "Yes, Sir Recorder! I am at your service!" The voice was unnecessarily deep, almost like the guy had practiced it in front of a mirror.

    Judge made a mental note. Delay in response... Check. Flustered? Also check. Wonderful.

    Exactly the kind of people I need when dealing with d¨¦j¨¤ vu mysteries, he thought, sarcasm leaking out of his brain like an overstuffed sponge.

    With a dramatic sigh, Judge sat back and prepared for the inevitable chaos to come. I should''ve stuck with the chick pops.

    "Do you have any missions currently?" He was back in serious mode. If he could, he wanted to record all that madness.

    "My missions won''t hinder any work you give me Sir recorder!" He seemed excited for some reason, but his prideful voice was still there.

    "Just give me a straight answer. Do you have any missions currently?" He rubbed his brow, which anyone would do after going through two quirky individuals.

    "Yes, Sir Recorder! I have..." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Drop the Sir part."

    "Yes, recorder. I am tasked with killing a dangerous individual and the people with her." He continued in a voice that yelled dissatisfaction. "The hard part is that there is a child that need to be killed, but I have no choice if I have to save other lives."

    He summoned Lucifer into the room, he wanted to talk to him face to face.

    "Lucifer." He said calmly, "Wear your mask and head to your victims today, and say that your master wishes to speak with them, then call me in your head.

    "Yes sir!" Lucifer kneeled in front of him, his hand on his chest, folded into a fist.

    I should write a script, just in case. Judge summoned a paper to write a script for Hawthrone to follow, after he had left. He wanted to see the skill''s effect.

 Chapter 45 Popcorn, Time Loops, and Other Minor Annoyances

    Judge sat in his throne-like chair, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest, as he waited for Lucifer''s call, mentally. The silence in the room was almost uncomfortable, but it gave him time to think ¡ª which, in his case, wasn''t always the best thing. His thoughts had the tendency to spiral out of control as he always thinks of all the possible ways this could go.Like right now.

    His mind kept circling around one particularly irritating question: How exactly does this "resurrection" thing work? And if Clio''s annoying popcorn-munching reveal about "Lucifer''s victim" was anything to go by, it wasn''t your average ''come back from the dead'' situation. No, it must be worse ¡ª time could be involved.

    "Great. Just great," Judge muttered to himself. "Time-travel shenanigans. As if my life wasn''t complicated enough."

    He had a solid suspicion that d¨¦j¨¤ vu wasn''t just his own delusions or a bad memory. No, this was something much more concrete. It was real d¨¦j¨¤ vu¡ª the kind where time rewound itself without anyone (except Judge and maybe a select few) noticing. And that "select few" included Selena, who had also experienced those weird flashes of familiarity. That was clue number one. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Clue number two? He had come from another world, or was at least reincarnated. That had to play a part in why he could sense the distortion. His mind wasn''t locked into the timeline like a native of this world; it was tied up to something beyond it. So, when time rewound, he noticed. He felt it.

    Another small possibility ran through his mind, they both were appointed as cameramen in this world, and being affected by a shift in the world''s running was not something that should affect a cameraman.

    Which makes sense considering he had recorded two stories before and was more acquainted with his role, while Selena had none and did not feel it as effective as him.

    The question that was bubbling at the back of his mind now was how much time could this victim rewind. Minutes? Hours? Days?

    That made Judge uneasy. If the person could reset time over and over, wouldn''t they have a ridiculous advantage? Not just against their enemies, but against... everything?

    Then came the truly anxious thought: What if the victim wasn''t just rewinding time, but rewinding it endlessly every time they were about to die? What are the consequences? Rewinding time won''t be just as easy as asking out your high school crush.

    "worst she could say is no", Words that could break friendships.

    Judge sat up straighter, his fingers pausing in their drumming. That thought was unsettling in a way he hadn''t anticipated. If this person could trigger some kind of loop, what would that mean for him? For the Studio?

    The Studio was, for all intents and purposes, his safe space. His pocket dimension where he had total control. If he were to summon the victim into the Studio and kill them there, would the loop still trigger? Could the world itself rewind while the victim was inside the Studio and outside of their dimension?

    Or would Judge be trapped in another time loop, just inside this dimension, with time resetting every time the victim died?

    He could almost imagine it now: an eternal cycle of killing the same person over and over again, with both of them trapped in a never-ending tango of life, death, and rewound timelines.

    Would he even remember it? Or would he be stuck like a broken record, unaware that he was reliving the same events, forever? He could not put his hopes into his cameraman trait.

    That idea of repeating things sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

    "Okay, okay," Judge said, talking to no one in particular, as he often did when he was thinking too hard. "Calm down. Think it through. Worst-case scenario, you''re in an endless loop, which is only hypothetical. Best-case scenario... well, best-case, I suppose you just kill the person and move on with your life."

    He rubbed his head. Why did it have to be time magic? He could deal with fireballs and lightning strikes, but time? But that was another level of headache.

    Just then, his train of thought was interrupted by a faint buzz in his mind. Lucifer was finally calling. About time. Pun intended (Read again if you did not get the pun).

    Judge closed his eyes and focused, connecting with Lucifer''s mind through their link. "Go ahead, Lucifer. What''s the situation?"

    The response came quickly, but Lucifer''s tone had shifted from his usual dramatic air to something more tense, as if he wasn''t entirely sure what was happening himself. "Recorder, I''ve reached the target... but something feels off."

    "Define ''off,'' " Judge said, his tone was flat. Of course, something would feel off. This was a time-turner they were dealing with. He hadn''t expected this to be easy.

    "I don''t know. The girl is still normal, but the man¡ª a faint, creepy, and utterly disgusting ether is surrounding him, it is like there are many of ''him'' inside him... like many echoes.

    He also seems to be different from his usual self that I have been observing for the past couple of days. He is acting scared and is trying to persuade the little girl to not head to the forest, which is something he does not usually do."

    Judge''s mind raced again. Creepy ether? Was that somehow connected to the side effects of turning back time? Maybe they are eating away at his life. Was he willing to go that far for a little girl? And what about echoes?

    Was that his past reality where he was killed?

    He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Okay, Lucifer. New plan. Don''t kill anyone just yet."

    There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "Recorder, What do you mean ''don''t kill anyone''? That''s... sort of what I do." His tone was still respectful, Judge wondered if everyone he had been in contact with would suddenly turn sarcastic.

    Judge pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I know, Lucifer. But humor me for a moment. Just do what I asked earlier. Deliver the message that I want to talk with them. Then, after you''ve made contact, tell me."

    Lucifer didn''t sound happy about it. "Yes sir. But dare may I ask, what is Sir Recorder trying to do with them?"

    Judge rolled his eyes. "You only have to do as you are told. Now go."

    As the mental link faded, Judge''s mind buzzed with even more questions than before. Creepy ether? Echoes of reality? The victim resurrecting? Time loops? He hated this.

    The more he learned, the less he seemed to know.

    He stood up and stretched, pacing around the room. He needed answers, but there was no way to get them without poking at the situation directly. Still, he couldn''t shake the gnawing feeling that he was about to step into something far more complicated than he''d bargained for.

    For now, he''d wait for Lucifer''s next call. And in the meantime, he''d try not to think too hard about the fact that, for all he knew, time itself might be out to get him.

    "Great. I''ve officially become paranoid," Judge muttered. Then, with a sigh, he added, "Why did I only consider writing a script for him and not ACTUALLY do that?."

    He then proceeded to summon a paper and a pen, he had to show the way for Lucifer to act, and maybe capture a worthy story from this encounter.

 Chapter 46 Dramatic Entrances 101: Terrifying the Time Turner

    Judge leaned back in his chair, quill in hand, feeling like a director about to shape the fate of his characters. He stared down at the parchment, which had definitely seen better days. Sure, there were ether-powered machines, time loops, and dark forces swirling around him, but none of that compared to the delicate art of scriptwriting.Lucifer approaches his prey, not with bloodlust or the intent to kill, Judge wrote, the words coming to him smoothly.

    Suddenly, a vision flashed before his eyes, like a theater screen projected straight into his brain. Judge blinked, a bit taken aback by the weirdness of it all¡ªhe could see the vision playing out in his mind while still being fully aware of his surroundings. It was like he had two brains working at once.

    He settled into his chair, mentally conjuring up a bucket of popcorn. This was some top-tier entertainment. Ether-powered VR¡ªnow that''s something worth looking into for later, he mused with a grin.

    The scene unfolding in his mind was exactly what he had hoped for. Lucifer¡ªhis loyal, ever-arrogant agent of pride¡ªwas making his way toward his prey. These weren''t just random targets though; they were previous kills brought back by some mysterious time-turning ability. And Lucifer? Well, he wasn''t the type to take that lightly, not that he knew of that fact.

    Judge chuckled to himself. "The guy really does have an ominous air about him!" He exclaimed, but not because he was surprised. Rather, because he just thought it would sound cool (It did not). Maybe he was picking on Clio''s bad habits¡ª he quickly showed that thought aside.

    He could see the man confused as to what was happening, like he was sure that he did not cause anything for a butterfly effect. He held the girl in his arms, trying to protect her, as Lucifer drew closer.

    Back to the script.

    Lucifer proceeds to ask his prey: "How many times do you think I''ve killed you? I''ve dealt with time-turners before, but none of them had dark ether as thick and disgusting as yours." S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge smirked. Lucifer''s lines had just the right mix of menace and arrogance, perfectly fitting his character. It was the kind of thing that made your backbone tingle without raising a sword.

    Lucifer drew closer to his targets, calm as ever. His aura radiated power, wrapping around him like storm clouds ready to strike. Judge knew this wasn''t just pride¡ªthis was pure, calculated menace.

    Judge leaned in mentally, amplifying Lucifer''s presence with a sliver of his own will. The weight of his power pressed down on the targets, making them tremble. Even Lucifer had a hard time standing firm against Judge''s full force, so for these two poor souls, it was like being hit by a large ether-fueled sledgehammer, but less deadly.

    "Nice," Judge thought, pleased with himself. He''d keep this move in his back pocket for future encounters.

    Lucifer continued, voice low and threatening, all according to the script. "But..." The pause was timed to perfection. "My master, the recorder, wishes to see you. I don''t know what he sees in your pitiful self, but... you should be grateful that he even wills to see you."

    Judge let out a contented sigh. Was it perfect? Maybe not. But it was damn close.

    With the script written, Judge leaned back in his chair again, picturing how the next scene would play out. When Lucifer summoned him, it would be grand¡ªhis entrance would be nothing short of legendary.

    The air would shift, thick with tension. The lights would dim, and a spotlight would illuminate him sitting on a throne, ether swirling around him. He''d rise slowly, his coat sweeping the floor behind him like something out of a perfectly choreographed play.

    And then, in a voice so low it sent chills down spines, he''d welcome them to his domain.

    "Welcome to the Studio," he''d say.

    He could almost see their terrified faces. They wouldn''t know what hit them. There''d be a pause, the tension growing thicker, and then he''d casually throw in something like, "You''re probably wondering why you''re here... or how many times I''ve watched you die. Honestly? I''ve lost count."

    But maybe it was better to head out to meet them, after all, he did not know what triggered the time turn, so better not make any rash decisions. what if time turned back endlessly while he goes inside the studio? It was not worth the risk.

    He would go out and be the most intimidating person out there. Maybe he would enter with at least a bit of his will leaking, faking it like a little of what hid underneath.

    Judge grinned, imagining the scene. Now that was how you make an entrance.

    He opened his eyes and looked around, feeling the anticipation building inside him. It wouldn''t be long before Lucifer called him in to finish the job. Until then, he''d wait, the master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

    Lucifer was in charge of handling the messy part.

    Judge? He had the dramatic finish covered.

    It was a flawless plan¡ªor at least, that''s what Judge hoped. But he wasn''t one to trust in things going perfectly. Something always went sideways, especially when time manipulation and dark ether were involved. He had to be ready for every possible outcome, no matter how ridiculous.

    "What if I trip on my coat during the big entrance?" he briefly wondered. Nah, that wouldn''t happen. Not this time. Hopefully.

    His thoughts were cut short by Lucifer''s mental call, breaking into his mind with a directness that was both respectful and oddly formal: "Recorder, I''ve done as you asked. What''s next?"

    Judge smirked, picturing Lucifer standing there, all intimidating and commanding but still waiting like a well-trained soldier. It was almost... cute, in a twisted, menacing kind of way.

    "Step aside as you are making way for your master," Judge instructed, quickly cutting off the telepathic link like a domineering boss. Because even in telepathy, style mattered.

    Rising to his feet, Judge cracked his neck like he was gearing up for a showdown, adjusted his mask, and took a moment to admire his reflection. Yes, he summoned a mirror just to admire his look.

    He briefly toyed with the idea of sending his clone instead¡ªless risky, more detached. But unfortunately, his clone couldn''t contain the sheer amount of his will, his presence. And let''s be honest, a grand entrance wasn''t nearly as fun without that bone-chilling intimidation factor, but if the viewers are crushed, then what''s the use of an entry?

    "Guess the real me''s going out there," he muttered, mildly inconvenienced by his own overwhelming power. The drama was necessary though. He had a reputation to uphold.

    "Well," he said to himself with a wry grin, "time to make my debut. And what better way to do it than terrifying someone who literally controls time?"

    He decided to head back... but a slight problem. He had escaped from training, and he was sure that his master wouldn''t let him go. "Why did I not think about this?"

    But he was not quick to give up, "Sorry Selena, I will remember your self-sacrifice." He took up his pen and script.

 Chapter 47 Questionable decisionsâ€” when you plan is just wing it

    Judge sat back, his enhanced cognition working in the background like some overclocked brain engine. He scratched his head (Well, he tried to, but his body was still slow), his thoughts were bouncing between options faster than a rabbit hopped up on ether, as if that was a thing.He needed a distraction, something to throw both his master and his mother off his trail. But nothing too obvious, because let''s face it, if Selena suddenly started breakdancing or juggling fireballs, it would definitely raise a few eyebrows.

    He held back a chuckle after imagining Selena doing a break dance. He wanted to see it really bad.

    No, Selena had to act normal. Judge sighed dramatically. "Why can''t things ever be simple? Just once, can I have a problem that doesn''t make my brain melt?"

    He toyed with the idea of sending her a mental message. But then again, telepathy took time, and time was something Judge had less of than a guy in a time loop who forgot to set his alarm. He can''t afford to spend time, because it would mess up his grand entry. And there was no guarantee that she will abide.

    So he had to come up with something fast. With his EC still firing on all cylinders, he came up with a script that would do the trick¡ªwithout making Selena look like a complete weirdo.

    He conjured a piece of paper and began scribbling furiously. His hand moved so fast it looked like he was trying to start a fire with the power of friction. "This better work," he muttered, "or I''m going to have to fake my own disappearance. Though I would have done that already if it was possible."

    He had no choice whatsoever, his master could catch him before he even tried to teleport after getting out of the studio, and his mother could disrupt it. At least he assumed she did, he was not the one to take chances.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the Studio- the real world, Selena was, quite frankly, losing it. She''d been holding up a fiery orb for what felt like an eternity. Her concentration was becoming thinner than Judge''s excuses, and the persistent feeling that she''d done this a thousand times before was itching at the back of her mind like an old sweater she couldn''t take off. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You''re doing great, Selena!" her master, Eleyn, chirped in that overly sweet tone that only moms and kindergarten teachers use when they''re trying to convince you that drawing inside the lines is a life skill. "Just five more minutes!"

    Five minutes? Selena''s brain screamed in protest. Five minutes felt like five eternities, and her arms were about to give up and unionize against her. But that wasn''t even the worst part. No, the worst part was her actual mom¡ªSeraphis¡ªwho was nearby, angrily squeezing the life out of a mug. A mug that, as Selena noted bitterly, Dad had just made.

    "How dare that little¡ª!" Seraphis muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers turning the mug into an unfortunate victim of parental frustration.

    Selena wanted to scream. She wanted to hurl the fireball at her mom, at the universe, and maybe even at Judge, wherever that slacker was hiding. "MOM!" she finally snapped, sparks flying from the fireball as it burst in a shower of dramatic flair. "Would you quit whining for five seconds?! Judge is probably off pretending to be important, but can we at least get through this lesson without¡ª"

    But before she could finish her tirade, both her mother and Eleyn turned to her, not even flinching at the fact that she had just set off an ether-firework display. Instead, they simply looked at her and said, in perfect unison, like a creepy ether-powered doll, "You''ve lost focus."

    Selena blinked. That''s what they were concerned about? Not the fact that Judge was off to who knows where, probably doing something completely reckless? Not the fiery explosion she just caused? No. It was her focus.

    She was tempted to scream again, but then it hit her. Why was she even mad at Judge? There was something¡­ off, like a half-forgotten dream. Had Judge said something to her before he left?

    Her mind wandered. Maybe she''d throw in a little theatrics of her own to distract them. She smiled to herself, unknowingly being urged by some unseen force that was trying to keep both her mother''s and her master''s attention away from someplace else.

    "Well," Selena muttered under her breath, "if I''m going to lose focus, I might as well do it in style."

    With the air of someone about to disclose information about a grand secret organization¡ª except with considerably less poise¡ª she turned to her mother, who was still in a rage like a gang leader whose minions hadn''t followed orders.

    Selena took a deep breath and put on her most confident face. Well, as confident as one can look when their mom''s doing her best impression of a crime boss.

    "Mom," she declared, walking forward with the grace of a slightly tipsy drunkard, "let me show you a principle I created from scratch!"

    But as soon as she said that, her confidence wavered, especially when her mom''s gaze locked onto her, but it was too late to back down now. She had committed to this. And something was forcing her to move forward with the act.

    However, to Selena''s surprise, her mother didn''t seem fazed by the bold declaration. In fact, she looked more amused than anything, like a cat toying with a very brave mouse.

    Before she could lose her nerve entirely, Eleyn stepped forward, placing a hand on Selena''s shoulder with the kind of serious face reserved for the moments where they took life or death decisions. Which, in her case, wasn''t exactly common.

    "Can your psyche and ether handle this principle?" Eleyn asked, her tone dead serious.

    "Yes, Master!" Selena replied, her voice a little too eager, but hey, it''s not every day you get a shot at a redemption arc after blowing up a fireball. She was feeling good¡ª great even¡ª thanks to her ether talent and her solid psyche. But she knew she''d have to push this confidence a little more.

    "I can handle it," Selena said, puffing up her chest just a bit. "And if things go south, well, I have both of you here to back me up, right?"

    Eleyn smiled, a proud, somewhat teary-eyed grin that Selena swore could only be found in overly sentimental dramas and TV shows. "Well then," Eleyn said, wiping away her imaginary tears, "let''s get to it, shall we?"

    With a flick of her wrist, they all vanished, teleported to who-knows-where, because obviously, if you''re going to try some reckless new principle, you might as well do it somewhere with a better view.

 Chapter 48 Judges grand entry, but he is actually serious

    "Aah, finally!" Judge thought as he watched them all vanish after the teleportation. If his understanding of the scriptwriter ability was correct, Selena would now be forced to demonstrate some grand principle. Not that he cared much about what it was.All he had done was subtly manipulate Selena into telling the others she would reveal a principle¡ª a trick that would drain every drop of her ether. He knew full well she had a reservoir of ether large enough to power a city, but the script needed her to be vulnerable. And for that, her energy had to be depleted.

    Everything was falling into place exactly as he had planned. Now, it was time to teleport to Hawthorne¡ª or Lucifer, as the man wore his mask when he left the Studio. The next step? Pure acting. The kind of performance that would make Oscar winners look like amateurs fumbling with cue cards.

    In fact, the best actors weren''t in theaters or cinemas. They were in boardrooms, draped in power suits and dishing out corporate politicking with the finesse of seasoned performers. Judge was no stranger to that art; he could match any of those sly foxes with ease.

    He deactivated his Enhanced Cognition, wincing as the ache in his head felt like a drill grinding into his brain. And his brain, mind you, was far more valuable than most people''s¡ª he liked to remind himself of that.

    Rising from his seat, he waved away the table with a flick of his hand, watching it disappear into the void of the Studio.

    He exited the space swiftly, stepping back into the patch of grass where he''d started. The eerie d¨¦j¨¤ vu that once haunted him here was gone, replaced by the more immediate dread of his master finding him. He shuddered at the thought. That was a horror he didn''t care to imagine.

    Without hesitation, without even glancing around, he focused his ether and began folding space toward his location. It costed a ton of ether, and he did not have much ether left after casting it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Lucifer regarded the two pitiful beings before him with a cold, detached gaze. They had originally been his targets¡ªmarked for death by a mysterious woman who had promised him a reward of 200 sten if he succeeded.

    That was no small sum, and it immediately raised suspicions. It was rare for any quest, unless it was to kill or investigate someone immensely powerful, to exceed a reward of 30 sten.

    But Lucifer was confident. His new master backed him now, and his instincts told him to take the risk. And as expected, his master had sensed something was off with the whole ordeal.

    The girl had lived a life steeped in misery. Abandoned at birth, she was taken in by a farmer who was anything but kind. At six, her village was burned to the ground, liberating her from one form of misery only to cast her into another.

    She spent years as a slave, each new owner meeting with a fate more miserable than the last. At nine, she was finally taken in by an ether researcher, and now, at ten, she was under the care of Percival, who seems to work for the researcher who took care of her.

    Percival, however, had lived his life like Lucifer, both were insanely powerful entities. After an accident that took his arms and crippled his legs, his powers faded, and now he could neither fight nor flee. But unlike Lucifer, he had given up entirely¡ª resigned to his fate with no desire to seek out a path forward.

    "Pathetic," Lucifer thought bitterly. "Giving up is the first and last step to failure. Those who refuse to grow are no better than dead weight." He waited, his mind drifting to the impending arrival of his master¡ª the only person who seemed to know his past. Only those his family had once served knew his true origins.

    His family had cast him aside for being weak, and though Lucifer had since grown in power, it was still not enough to exact the revenge he craved, which was a goal that kept him going until he lost his powers.

    Now that they had found him in his weakened state and offered him strength, he had accepted without question. It was in his blood to serve, he had now entirely forgotten about revenge, and now a new purpose drove him forward.

    But where was the recorder? Time had passed since Lucifer stepped aside, waiting for his master''s entrance. "He must be debating whether these weaklings are even worth his time," Lucifer mused. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Just then, a menacing presence made itself known¡ªthe air thickening with a suffocating weight. The recorder had arrived, his presence alone enough to command absolute submission.

    Lucifer immediately withdrew his will. Servants were never to exert their will in the presence of their masters. That was a common law everyone in the world followed, exuding will in front of their masters was considered as an act of disobedience, unless it was instructed.

    The figure before him was unmistakable: a red cloak draped over a green vest and crisp white shirt, a green top hat with a red ribbon adorned with delicate golden embroidery, and, of course, that signature white mask¡ª a permanent, unsettling smile etched across it.

    To Lucifer, the mask symbolized his master''s merciful heart, but to others, it was a chilling facade that hid the true terror beneath.

    "What do we have here?" Judge''s voice boomed, low and authoritative, dripping with a forced gravitas. The weight of his will pressed down on everyone present, and his words carried a finality that left no room for defiance.

    He moved closer to Percival, his presence as menacing as a predator toying with its prey, Percival''s clenched his teeth in anger.

    "Oh, how fierce you are," Judge mused, his tone was laced with mockery. He reached out, brushing his fingers along his chin as if contemplating something amusing.

    Despite the crushing pressure of Judge''s will, the young girl forced out a strained voice, defiant in the face of overwhelming power. "Don''t... touch Percival... you villain."

    Judge arched an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching under the mask. ''Me? A villain?'' He found her accusation amusing, but he wasn''t the sort to lash out at a mere child.

    He could be called a villain¡ª many had done so¡ª but he was not without principles. His parents, when they were alive in his previous life, had raised him with a sense of right and wrong.

    "Villainy is such a subjective term," he thought, his masked smile hiding the smirk that played at his lips.

 Chapter 49 The true face behind that mask

    Judge was not even acting at this point, he was enjoying the moment. He was low on ether, but it was fine as long as the two people in front of did not try anything funny. All he had to do was keep up the high and mighty image.The girl¡ª Clara, according to his information¡ª was not as easily convinced of defeat as the guy next to her, Percival. He was a man who had given up on life, and now makes a living through assisting an ethercraft researcher in her works.

    But it was clear that he loved the girl dearly and was willing to die for her to live. Judge knew very well on how to exploit someone''s ''weaknesses''. In his previous corporate battles, finding the enemy''s weak spot was the hard part, and it was always a smooth sail from then on.

    "So!" He turned and headed toward the girl, and he knelt near her as he approached. "Why should I not hurt Percival?" He was intrigued by what answer would she give. His face gave a twisted smile, which was fortunately covered by his mask.

    Lucifer stood by the side, watching his master passionately. Even though he did not show it, he was also curious as to what she would say.

    "Why should you hurt him? He is not a bad person." She was immobilized and was very weak in terms of combat prowess, but her bravery was commendable.

    Judge stood up and cleared his throat, it was loud enough for everyone to hear but quiet enough to make it feel natural. "Your bravery is commendable," He clapped slowly, "As a reward, let me tell you about this man''s crime."

    That caught her attention, as well as Lucifer''s. Percival was about to say something, but he went silent as soon as he heard Judge''s statement.

    "This man is disrupting the natural order of time, which is a great crime in itself, but he did it more than once." Percival went completely silent. He had no idea how he could turn the time back. It happened naturally as he died.

    But to think he was up against an entity that defied time, he had lived a quiet life after he had fallen from power. And even in his prime, he was sure he did not do something that would piss off an entity like the masked man¡ª recorder was it?

    Lucifer just stood there, he was tasked with killing someone who could turn time, so he was offered a huge sum of two hundred sten. If not for his master, he would have stuck in a time loop.

    "But," Judge continued, speaking slowly as to bring more weight into his words" turning back time... well, that comes at a steep price. You see, the universe doesn''t appreciate being tampered with. It''s a debt that must be paid... and paid in full."

    He was still speaking to the small girl, but Percival knew where this conversation was going. Judge noticed it too, Percival speaking now would not be a hindrance to the plan, but it was better if he did not.

    ''Lucifer, restrict the guy with your will. He smust not speak'' Judge ordered him. ''And don''t let the girl notice''

    Lucifer, not knowing what his master had planned, did as ordered. He exuded his will toward Percival in order to suppress him. Percival, who had just gathered enough strength to speak, was slammed back to the ground, his words not escaping his lips.

    Judge focused his attention back on the girl, "It will eventually make the person disappear... slowly, but surely... painfully... forgotten by all, vanishing from existence... Imagine being forgotten by everyone you''ve ever known, vanishing from existence like a candle snuffed out.

    Just like that." He said it in a villainous tone¡ª as to make the girl feel more uneasy despite being paralyzed under his will. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He then continued on with his performance, "And do you know why he did that?"

    Clara was silent, she was unable to speak. Percival was meddling with time, she was not old enough to understand what it meant, but she knew it was something severe. And the cost was just disappearing? And I would forget him? No! I will never forget Percival!

    Percival was trying his hard to get up, he at least needed to speak and try to convince Clara that it was okay.

    Judge knew that his speech had hit the mark, he twisted smile was getting more villainous. He just needed a final push. "He did all of that just for you..." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, "Because you kept disobeying him and running off... Because you kept dying... he had no choice but to turn back time."

    Clara was having a mental breakdown when she heard that, Judge could have stopped there, but one more final push would end his trouble.

    "And because of you..." He withdrew his will, it was no longer needed. "He will disappear... painfully... he will go mad and vanish from everyone''s mind."

    Judge did not know if anything he said was true, but he knew for a fact that there was no way to prove him wrong.

    "Stop!" Clara cried, "Because of me? Percival?" Her eyes widened in realization. "You''re lying." But she knew very well that was not the case.

    Percival was trying his hardest to get up, and he succeded... well¡ª partly. He now laid on the ground like a cobra. "Cla... ra," He said with difficulty. Lucifer was about to exude more will by borrowing from his master, but Judge instructed him to stop.

    He decide that was enough, let him free, He commanded Lucifer.

    Lucifer withdrew his will as he was instructed, letting Percival go toward Clara and hug her tightly. "Percival! I am sorry... sorry." Clara sobbed into his chest, overwhelmed with guilt and shame. Her world had collapsed, and all she could think about was how her actions had led to Percival''s suffering.

    Percival held her close "It is alright Clara," He tried to console her.

    Through his own tears that never left his eyes, he looked up at Judge, fury and sorrow mingling in his gaze. "Why?" Percival asked, his voice shaking. "Why do this? Why break her?"

    Lucifer, watching silently, could feel something stir in Percival. His old fire¡ª the will to fight that had long been extinguished¡ª was flickering back to life. ''Master could even light a fire that was put out ages ago, as expected of him.'' He thought.

 Chapter 50 Why is the situation getting out of hand?

    Judge had carefully set the stage, laying out all the pieces, and now it was time to reel in the information he sought. Clara, whether she realized it or not, was Percival''s greatest vulnerability, and Judge intended to exploit that.The final act was about to begin, and repairing the shattered remnants of their lives could wait¡ª after all, what was a little chaos if it brought about the truth?

    "But... I can help you, you know," Judge said, his voice aimed at Percival but with a calculated undertone meant for Clara''s ears. "I can free you from the cost of using time."

    Of course, it was a promise Judge had no intention¡ª or even ability¡ª of keeping. But manipulation was an art, and in his hands, it became a masterpiece.

    His ethics? Those were irrelevant. Honesty wasn''t a virtue in his world; the truth was only useful when twisted to fit his needs.

    The word "help" hung in the air like a balloon, drawing attention from all corners of the room. Even Lucifer, usually as stoic and numb as a statue, tilted his head ever so slightly at the mention of it, though he quickly masked any surprise.

    Clara, predictably, was the first to respond. "Help Percival?... How?" Her voice was fragile, trembling on the thin line between hope and despair. "Please..." She tried to stop crying, but the tears had a life of their own, spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably.

    Seeing her break down in front of him, Percival¡ª who until now had been mostly silent¡ª couldn''t resist looking up at Judge. His expression was one of defeat. After all, he had never signed up for this madness of bending time itself.

    His life had been a string of poor decisions, but never had he imagined he would end up like this¡ª entangled in powers beyond his understanding, with Clara at the center of it all.

    Percival was on the verge of a breakdown, too. He could feel the corrupt ether slowly creeping through his veins. It was a toxin that was transforming him into something monstrous¡ª just one or two more time reversals, and it would be over. He would become a monster, beyond saving.

    "I could stop him from turning time," Judge continued, addressing Clara with that same devilish confidence, then turning his head back to Percival. "But I''m not feeling generous enough to give it away for free. What do you think? Is it worth something to you?"

    The silence that followed was thick with tension. Percival''s eyes narrowed, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He was trying his best to contain it, but his voice betrayed him when he finally spoke.

    "What do you want in return?" His tone was rough, edged with a growing rage. "I don''t have anything that would be of use to someone like you."

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, the smile that never reached his eyes but always left others on edge. This was playing out exactly as he had anticipated.

    "Oh, you have more than enough," Judge replied smoothly. "You only have to answer a few questions for me, and I''ll consider helping you. It''s a simple exchange, really. If your answers are useful, I''ll fix this little... problem of yours. And if they are not...

    well... let''s say you are not getting a cure." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Percival hesitated. He didn''t have much information¡ªnothing that seemed worth trading for something as monumental as time itself. But Judge could see the wheels turning in the man''s head, his desperation clawing at him as he struggled to find a way out.

    Judge, ever the master manipulator, kept reading Percival like a book. The man''s face betrayed his thoughts, and Judge''s enhanced cognition allowed him to analyze the situation at breakneck speed. He pieced together what Percival couldn''t quite say aloud.

    First, it was clear that Percival had no idea how he had turned back time. It must have happened when he died, likely without his understanding. That meant some higher power or entity was involved, perhaps orchestrating the time reversal from the shadows. But from the confusion on Percival''s face, he had no clue who or what that might be.

    Second, it was apparent that Percival was weak¡ªdangerously so. A low-level assassin could take him out for the cost of a few sten.

    Whoever had hired him either had grasped that Percival could turn back time but did not know how it worked and wanted to kill him instantly. Or worse, they were trying to turn back time as much as possible and corrupt his ether. Judge prayed it wasn''t the latter, but deep down, his gut told him it was exactly that.

    After organizing his thoughts, Judge asked his first question, his voice steady and demanding. "When was the first time you turned back time? And where were you when it happened?"

    Percival hesitated, then spoke slowly, his voice carrying the weight of his recent suffering. "I died for the first time... it was an explosion at the research center. Not more than two weeks ago."

    His tone, though bitter, was not entirely hostile. It was more as though he had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him. Pride flickered faintly in his eyes, but it was fading, leaving only the hollow shell of a man who had lost too much.

    Percival continued, "When I returned, I found myself in the same lab where I had died. The day before, I had been working there. It was... confusing. I had lashed out and acted like a madman. Miss Mina confined me for questioning¡ª "

    Judge''s sharp eyes caught onto the name, and his hand shot up, halting Percival mid-sentence. "Wait. Repeat that name."

    A cold knot twisted in Judge''s chest, recognition sparking from the back of his mind. That name... Mina... He had heard it before, long ago. But that couldn''t be right. She was dead.

    Wasn''t she?

    Even Lucifer seemed momentarily startled by the mention of the name, though he quickly regained his composure, his face a mask of indifference once more.

    "Miss Mina," Percival confirmed, his confusion deepening. "She''s the head researcher of the artificial ether creation project."

    Judge''s mind raced. His enhanced cognition kicked into overdrive as he processed this new information. ''Artificial ether creation project?'' It was too familiar. Too close to his own ethercraft, ''nihility.'' Both had been born from attempts to replicate artificial ether. The coincidence was too large to ignore.

    ''Heh,'' He sighed, ''This is gonna end with a big plot twist isn''t it?''

 Chapter 51 The Case of the Missing Puzzle Pieces: Who Needs Em Anyway?

    Judge felt like he was staring at an incomplete jigsaw puzzle, except most of the pieces were either missing or worse¡ª completely blank. He needed to gather the fragments and make sense of all this madness.''So,'' he muttered to himself, trying to maintain calm though his mind was racing, ''there is a person called Mina, who just happens to be working on an ethercraft, coincidentally though, it was on the same topic as the father of the Mina he knew was researching on.''

    This was not a mere coincidence, he would not have taken it this seriously if the names were not the same. But two researchers, possibly linked by a common name and subject matter? It was enough to raise alarm bells.

    Even a fool would know not to take this lightly. He ran through the puzzle pieces, narrowing down possibilities. And then he weighed the two most plausible scenarios.

    First, it could be a pure coincidence. After all, human greed and ambition often gave birth to similar types of research. The pursuit of power, especially through manipulating magical energies, was nothing new. He had seen many ambitious fools who destroyed themselves to their ambitions. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But then there was the other, ''I hope it is not'' scenario. The one that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The Mina that Percival mentioned was working on research that she kept from her father, an ethercraft that supposedly ate at her life.

    What if she was researching on something that kept her alive, something like... immortality? It would make perfect sense for the scene, but that was far too stretched out to be true.

    And even if she had achieved immortality, keeping the name would not make sense. If she lived through all these years without aging, that would definitely raise a few eyebrows. Judging by the state of the room in which he found the diary, more than a century had definitely passed.

    Melina had said that ethercrafts were all about bringing creativity to life through the implications of principles, so research would mean trying to create new principles and trying to improve them to cost less ether. And immortality was not entirely out of the question.

    He hoped it was a coincidence, because he could not do anything else but hope. But he was not a huge fan of hope. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to dismiss his more anxious thoughts. This was no time for guessing games. He needed more facts.

    Judge continued to question Percival after deactivating his enhanced cognition. "Well then, tell me more about this Mina. Her past I mean, she seems to be somehow connected to your... time circumstances."

    "Mina is a good person!" It was Clara, she seemed too eager to defend her. Mina might be the researcher who took her in. "She would never make Percival disappear." She was practically screaming at this point, but very weakly.

    Judge was not surprised but her sudden outburst. He had guessed that Mina might be the first guardian who showed her affection, and this just confirmed his thoughts.

    Lucifer, who was standing aside all this time, stepped forward. "Master, the researcher is known as Lara." He said softly "So, Mina might be an alias that people close to her might be calling her, though I am unsure about it."

    Judge''s eyes flashed toward Percival, who had managed to stand up, holding Clara in his arms, her small body now resting against his shoulder. She looked exhausted, her outburst having drained her completely.

    "Is that true?" Judge asked, narrowing his eyes at Percival, searching for any sign of deception.

    "Yes, the only people who call her Mina are me and Clara," Percival confirmed. "Others call her Lara, her legal name."

    Judge was getting calmer, but he could not shake off the feeling of unease in his mind. Maybe he was just overthinking things, it was stated in the diary that she died, but the researcher never went to confirm his daughter''s death. Maybe these two were different Minas.

    He knew that there would not be any more useful information, so he needed to ask a question that he knew Percival could not answer, then he could say that the answers were not satisfactory and leave.

    "Tell me more of your first experiences with time turning." Judge felt as if he already knew the answer.

    Percival looked hesitant at first but then spoke, his voice low and resigned. "I traveled through darkness," he said slowly, adjusting Clara on his shoulder as he tried to make sense of the memory. "When I woke up, I found myself in a world where everyone was asleep. But before I could even look around, I also fell asleep... and when I woke up again, time had reversed."

    Judge was surprised by the answer, it was not what he had anticipated, Judge felt a flicker of surprise. That was not the answer he had expected. He had assumed it would be the typical experience of an unintentional time traveler¡ª something sudden and panicked. But this... darkness? A world where everyone was asleep?

    That was far more unusual and disturbing.

    Still, he kept his composure. "I already know of that," Judge said dismissively, though in truth, his mind was now filled with new questions, desperately asking for answers. "Anything else? Because from what I can see, your time-turning is not something you control."

    Percival looked up at Judge, confused. He had hoped that his honesty would earn him Judge''s help. But hope, in his life, had always been fleeting. He should have known better. Life was nothing more than a cruel reality, one that never failed to disappoint him.

    Judge eyed Lucifer, he could not delay killing Percival any further. If the person who was behind all this came to check why there was no killing happening, he was not ready to fight any supernatural entities.

    ''kill them both'' He ordered mentally, ''But only after I give you the signal.''

    Judge stepped closer to Percival, not the best move but he needed the flair. "Remember," His voice was cold and indifferent, "Hold on to your life, if not for you, then at least for her sake." He pointed to Clara, who was now asleep on Perciavl''s shoulder.

    He then looked at Lucifer and nodded in affirmation, Lucifer stood straight from his lazy posture, and went back to the same pose.

    Two heads rolled on the ground, Percival who was yet to register that he was killed. And the unfortunate child, Clara, who still had tears on her face. He eyes were closed, her face was that of a child who was dreaming a nightmare.

 Chapter 52 When you try to make the dessert hotter

    Selena stood on a plateau, there was nothing but a hot desert as far as her eyes could see. Naturally formed stone monuments, both big and small, and the occasional dessert plants made the scenery breathtaking.But no matter how good the scenery was, there was no way that a human could live here. It was so hot that a volcano trip seemed like a hike to Mount Everest... That was a bit too exaggerated, but oh well.

    "Now," Seraphis spoke, stopping whatever Eleyn was about to say. "Show us your new principle, Selena."

    Eleyn looked at Seraphis with dissatisfaction, but she decided to say the rest, "This is a dessert called ''Salora'', the largest and the hottest. You can cast the largest of magics here, and not a soul would notice."

    ''Salora? Who even named it?'' She laughed internally, ''At least try to be original''

    "Alright, here goes nothing," She took a deep breath, it was not wrong to say that she was too excited for this, she should actually be nervous, but there was not even a small inkling of nervousness in her mind. This was a principle she had created on her own, and she had to show it off.

    She took up her wand, a sleek and twisted brown wooden shaft with a red jewel attached handle. Her master had made that for her, it was brand new, she did not know how a catalyst was created, but this was impressive.

    As it was new, there was barely any ether inside the red jewel catalyst, she had to make do with her own ether. She took a deep breath, guiding her ether slowly toward her wand.

    Selena tried to remember what her master had told her¡ª two things affected the casting of an ethercraft, one was ether, and the other was psyche.

    A principle depends on how you perceive the ether and reality, and also the bond between the two. You can cast any ethercraft as long as you have a simple principle and enough ether.

    But ''enough ether'' was not always a solution, and the only way to ease up the ether consumption was with a more complicated and detailed principle that shows the path for ether to create the said ethercraft.

    Psyche is something that keeps the complexity of principle in check, if the principle exceeds what your psyche can handle, then you will lose your mind and succumb to madness. There was one way to ease the usage of psyche, and that was chanting.

    Chanting helps to keep the consumption of the psyche lower, at least to an extent. Now that all the basics were down, she closed her eyes and focused on chanting.

    "From the skies, the servants rise,

    Seraphim, with wings of fire,

    Heed my call, O angels wise,

    With your light, descend and sweep,

    Reap their souls, may sinners be punished."

    She opened her eyes, her crimson pupils were exuding crimson colored ether like a fog. "Trumpets of apocalypse!" She shouted. But nothing happened as she still stood there, waiting to see whether it had worked or not.

    Seraphis caught her daughter as she fainted, a grand principle never worked the first time it was tried, it would only consume ether and nothing more, a grand principle was created through trial and error. Her daughter had fainted due to lack of ether, and this was a life lesson she needed to learn.

    "Let''s head back then," Eleyn suggested, "We need to help her polish her principle, it seemed grand since it consumed the whole of her ether reserve and even a lot from us." She was cheerful and had completely forgot about her son. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Let''s do just that." Seraphis finally gave up on keeping a stern face and laughed lightly "Do you remember the first time this happened to both of us? Thinking back, it was hilarious."

    "Yeah, I agree. Now let''s teleport back to¡ª" She did not have enough time to finish her sentence as she heard something faint, but unmissable. It was the horn of a giant trumpet, the faint sound soon turned into a loud but distant horn.

    The scene before them was magnificent, the clouds split as large meteors passed through. They showered down on the place like rain on a desert, literally and metaphorically.

    The giant fire artillery made the desert into a sea of flames, the centuries-old tall stone monuments were razed to the ground in a matter of seconds, and many big and small craters formed on the ground as they quaked the place. The shower was only brief, but the destruction was enormous.

    Both Eleyn and Seraphis could only look at it in awe. The ethercraft can still be polished, and they both can cast more destructive ethercrafts. But this was definitely not what anyone would consider as a ''beginner level''.

    They stared at the desolate landscape that was once a beautiful desert for some time before deciding to head back.

    But there was no need for them to head back as the ''time'' decided to head back and take them with it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes, laying on the familiar patch of grass, but this time, there was no d¨¦j¨¤ vu. He could still remember what all had happened, though not in detail.

    He got up, his master was leaning in on a sword. She had knocked him out on that patch and was waiting for him to wake up. He did not want more sessions of spontaneous air travel, so he decided to turn the course of his lesson.

    "Master!" Judge readied his wooden sword, hoping this would go the way he needed. "Why is it that all of your blows are heavy, even a light slash."

    Seraphis stood up from her leaning position, "It is an ethercraft principle, but let''s get down to the basics first shall we?"

    "Master please tell me a bit about the principle," Judge bowed... for the first time. It felt really unfamiliar, "Maybe I can defend better."

    His master did not seem convinced, she eyed Judge for a bit, as if she was deciding whether or not to feed her cattle today. "Alright," She let out an exasperated sigh, "Come on, follow me. Let''s see if you can endure this then."

    Yes! Judge celebrated internally, but he could not forget about Percival. So he quickly sent a mental message to Lucifer¡ª No Hawthrone, since he was not wearing the mask.

    ''Hawthorne!'' He called out, and continued without waiting for a reply. ''Your two targets for today, don''t kill them. And definitely don''t let them out of their house... Don''t forget to wear your mask.''

    There was no reply, but it came in just a bit. ''Yes! Recorder'' Judge could sense the hesitation and surprise in his voice, which meant that he didn''t remember events before time turning.

 Chapter 53 When the practical gets a theory

    Judge sat inside a dark room, the only source of light was a kerosene lamp that seemed to contain too many mechanical components for a simple lamp. Contrary to the house, the lamp had a proper steampunk aesthetic.Seraphis sat opposite to him on the small round table, setting the scene as if he had taken up divination as a problem solver and was trying to get answers from her.

    She put a wooden mug on the table, the rim was made of some golden metal, but it was not gold, probably brass. Why was it getting more steampunk all of a sudden? He was seriously starting to question the pacing and world building.

    "Now! Judge, focus" Seraphis gave him a sharp gaze, one that spelled trouble. "You are a dragon, so naturally you are powerful"

    "Yes ma''am," Judge did not know why but he just agreed to whatever she said. But a sudden thought got stuck in his mind, he never knew any language from his world. He could understand Seraphis and Selena because both spoke using translate.

    But how could he understand Percival and especially Clara? He never sensed any ether from them. He understood them as though he was talking to them in his mother tongue¡ª Wait... Mother tongue?

    What was his mother tongue called? He tried to remember but all he could speak was the foreign language he had everyone use in his new home. He could not even remember the name of his old language.

    Judge was starting to panic, he could still vividly remember his old life, and everything people had said to him, but he could not recall the language. He could not recall from when onwards this happened, maybe it happened just after he was reincarnated to this new world.

    He still knew two languages used in the current world, one was the dragon language, and the other one, he did not know. But during their encounter, Percival and Clara both spoke that language. On that thought, even Lucifer spoke the same language.

    He had no idea what was happening, but he suspected and blamed Clio for everything. It was a sweet feeling, something indescribable.

    Blaming Clio was like a dream come true for him, since she always helped him, he needed a reason to blame her other than her dangerously carefree attitude which was too similar to him and his mother.

    Turning off his EC, He decided to focus back on the lesson. The slowed Seraphis became normal and continued on with her lesson.

    ...

    The first part consisted of her just telling him... No, nagging him about how he was a dragon and had access to a vast pool of ether. But when it came to psyche, she just told him that he needed improvements and refused to elaborate further.

    Then she explained how her principle was highly complicated since it required extreme precision and a very quick cast time. Explaining in simple terms, her principle was based off the fact that muscles inside a person''s body never work at full capacity.

    So she not only found a way to overcome it and use 100 percent of her muscles, but she even managed to negate the side effects. Her principle did not stop there, she made the muscles more stronger than before. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Now she could exert the strength that could surpass about twenty five million newtons, but at a cost. "Just to put it into perspective," She was explaining as she watched Judge''s jaw hit the floor. "An average person could only produce about thirty to forty newtons, it could go over a thousand if you use ether."

    Judge was still dumbstruck, he looked lost. The numbers were astronomical, but Judge was more surprised about some other, more important, factor. And it was a serious question that he knew he was not going to get answers for.

    ''Who even named the force "Newtons"? At least try to be original'' He could not think of anything else.

    But Seraphis continued, taking up a stack of books & papers and putting them on the table. It was time to learn her principles, which snapped Judge back to reality.

    As he was learning the principles, papers kept piling on the small table. The principle was growing in complexity, and, considering her brain, Judge wondered how a brute such as her could produce such an outstanding craft.

    Of course, the principle of nothing was more complex, but it was better explained. The fact that his master''s principle needed to be activated and deactivated quickly made the ethercraft more complex than just plainly using the principle.

    Seeing Judge daydreaming, Seraphis decided to take it easy and become closer to him through a simple small talk.

    "Judge," She said calmly, but the response was rather loud.

    "What?!" He jumped from his seat, only to be seated again with an embarrassed face. "Sorry." He apologized, but there was no sincerity.

    Seraphis sighed, this was going to be harder than she thought it would be. "Tell me about your siblings." She smiled, but this time, fortunately, it was not creepy.

    "Huh! What about them? They just exist... I guess" He replied nonchalantly, he was getting uncomfortable.

    "What about your father?"

    "Well... I saw him all covered in blood and all but, he has been missing for a few days, so... I haven''t seen him."

    "Grandpa?"

    "He''s... Great... Hehe" He let out a light, forced laugh.

    "Judge!" Seraphis stood up "I know I am asking questions to a baby but do you not like people?"

    Judge was surprised, but quickly got to a crescent moon sitting position. "Well, I like Mom and Dad."

    "Everyone else?"

    "Well, I have not yet been acquainted with them since I am still a newborn." He lowered his head.

    Seraphis went near him and sat down, she patted his pack lightly. When she realized that he was getting more comfortable and calmer, she hugged him tightly. "Judge," She said calmly, but this time, more comforting.

    "Be honest with me... Do you not like people? Or do you hate the idea of getting to know new people?"

    "No... I... uhh" He lifted his head, staring at the wooden window frame that let the faint evening light in, it was almost nighttime.

    He sighed, he was getting an unfamiliar feeling, it was warm and comforting, but at the same time, it was uncomfortable. He felt a lump in his throat, a tight feeling he only felt when he was a kid in his previous life.

    He let the comfortable feel wrap around him as he opened his mouth to answer. He needed to get this weight out of his chest, a weight he had been carrying since his previous life.

 Chapter 54 The dead leaves a lesson, always

    Judge was lonely, more than he could tell anyone. So he desperately searched for someone to put his trust in, someone to watch his back. And that someone had betrayed him, as everyone else did.He wanted to close himself off, he wanted to not trust anyone again¡ª But there were his parents, people who always trusted him. But his loneliness still was a big void inside his heart, a void that he desperately wanted to fill.

    He decided to drop off that weight, he wanted to speak to her honestly. He opened his mouth, thinking on what to say to her.

    "Master," He began, speaking slowly. "You are right, I seem to have closed off my trust to anyone but my parents."

    "To me," He continued, "Every betrayal is a reminder that even the most solid walls can crumble under the weight of deception. My defenses are fortified by many shattered promises... and still... I remain vulnerable to the next smile that hides a knife. My weakness is my own longing for someone to trust, a weakness I can never get rid of." He smiled, pitying himself.

    Seraphis looked at him seriously, she did not know what he had gone through. But as his master, she had to at least make him feel comfortable with her, solving his trust issues could come later.

    "Judge," She slowly caressed his nape, "Let me tell you a story... a story about a village full of strong warriors."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In the olden times, on the northeast coast of the continent. There lived a tribe who were considered the strongest of warriors. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    They were not only feared for their strength but were respected and held as a form of admiration by many aspiring fighters.

    Their strength was unfathomable, and so were their techniques. Movements so beautiful that looked like a maiden''s dance.

    Their mastery over their ether was almost as good as the elves, and their ether volume was nearly as great as the dragons. Even their psyche was as good as the goblins.

    Many referred to their tribe as the ''Invictuses'', But their true name was said to be ''Valors'', some texts say that they referred to themselves as ''Auctoritas''. These are all referred from an ancient language called Latin, with many speculating that it was their tongue.

    As they lived near the forest of Devfronds, there were many monster attacks. But those attacks were what made them stronger, and they only grew in strength as time passed, but many of their comrades were sacrificed.

    As time passed, there came a year when the monster attacks got more aggressive than ever, more frequent than the previous years. But they did not falter in front of the adversaries, like true warriors, they emerged victorious.

    But the cost of that victory was just as great, too many of their comrades were sacrificed, too many to even count. The outcome was extremely heartbreaking.

    They did not leave even a single body behind even though they were tired, they held funerals for everyone. During the events of the funeral, a young man who had lost both his parents and his sister to the monsters got up and suggested to the heartbroken warriors¡ª He suggested that they build a fortress, one with walls so strong that it would hold back even the strongest of monster rampages.

    The villagers, who were also in the same state as that young man, unanimously agreed to his suggestion and started to prepare to build the fortress. They neither saw the need nor considered the consequences that would come from building such a fortress.

    Together, they started to build the ultimate fortress to keep away the monsters. Their resolve was strong¡ª driven by a desire to never endanger their loved ones again. Many lives were still lost while they were building their safe house.

    Many died while trying to collect materials from monsters or from monster territories, many died while trying to defend their new, unfinished home. And a few lives were lost to the construction.

    But they toiled through as they always had, and finally built an undefeatable fortress. A fortress that could withstand even the hardest of battles.

    Time and generations passed since the building of their fortress, and their battles changed. The proud warriors that stood tall in the face of adversaries now were battling monsters within the safety of their walls.

    Hard times create strong people, and strong people create easy times. Easy times create weak people, and weak people create hard times. Slowly but surely, their strength faded, replaced with battle strategies to be used within their walls.

    But as the old saying goes, "No fortress is eternal; even the strongest walls yield to time."

    These walls were not an exception. On one fateful day, on another normal monster siege, the walls crumbled, and the monsters got inside.

    On that day, the warriors of the Valor tribe, including the children, took their final breath. It was said that a river of blood flowed from inside the fortress, dying the ground red.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge was absorbed into the story really well, but he hated the ending.

    "Now Judge," Seraphis called him, she was still caressing the back of his head. "Tell me."

    "Hmm," He voiced his approval,

    "Why do you think the whole race, full of strong warriors went extinct?"

    "Why you ask?" He looked at his master, not meeting the eye. "Because they build a fortress and avoided conflict that improved their skills."

    "You are half right," She smiled comfortably and moved her gaze forward, "The real reason was that they shut off themselves from the challenges life threw at them, only to be crushed under those challenges that they tried to avoid.

    "But there was a good reason why they build that fortress, it was to keep their loved ones safe from those monsters that they always fight against. But where did that leave them at the end?"

    She paused, letting Judge absorb what she had just told him. "But," Judge began, "They did not know of such an outcome."

 Chapter 55 The darkness makes a move

    "But, they did not know of such an outcome," Judge said, still not looking directly at his master."Exactly," she said in a tone which meant that he had just proved her point. "Judge, you are in the same situation, you do not know what kind of consequences come from locking yourself in from others."

    Judge now looked up, meeting his master''s crimson eyes. "Judge!" She said in a serious tone "Your defenses are built from many shattered promises, and you wear them like armor. I understand that, more than you know. But here''s the truth you might not see yet, those defenses, they don''t just keep betrayal out¡ª they lock you in.

    "You''re still carrying the weight of every knife that''s ever been twisted in your back, and it''s stopping you from reaching the one thing you want most¡ª trust. Your longing for it isn''t weakness; it''s your heart''s way of telling you that you''re still alive, still capable of connection. Don''t mistake that for fragility¡ª it''s your greatest strength.

    "Keeping your distance away from people will only hurt you more. And the way you laugh of every bad thing that happens to you, I am familiar with such a person, people who laugh the most are people who are the most hurt. You, are hurt by many of those you trusted, the only one whom you can trust is yourself.

    "You cannot think that someone would never betray you, but you can trust in your ability to overcome that betrayal. No one betrays without reason Judge, no one."

    There was a long pause, neither of them spoke as Seraphis let Judge absorb in what she had just told him.

    "Then master," Judge, who was still focusing on the caressing of his master asked without looking up. "Do you trust me... even if I may one day betray the trust that you gave me?"

    She stopped her caressing and paused for a moment before holding Judge''s shoulder and turning him towards her. "Judge," she shook him lightly, "Trusting you... Is my choice, I would decide on whom to love. And I love you dearly. But proving me wrong?¡ª It''s your decision to make, and yours alone.

    "To me, to trust someone and to love someone is different. But let me tell you something. For those whom I love dearly¡ª I would give my whole being just to protect them."

    Judge felt that lump in his throat again, a tightness that he never really felt before. Even if he did, he had forgotten that feeling.

    But his master continued, "What about you Judge, would you die for those you love?"

    Judge looked up at his master again, but this time with eyes that showed no hesitation, "I would burn the world for them." He had one doubt in what he had just told her, he had always been like that. He knew that he spoke the truth.

    "Good answer." She patted and caressed his back lovingly, and then she got up, "Now back to studies, you need strength to burn the world right?"

    Judge smiled, he was a master at manipulating, but she had just gotten him to study honestly. It was a new feeling, he had let his guard down unknowingly.

    ...

    Clio, who was watching the whole story unfold, gave a sad smile. She knew something that they did not know, and she knew how sad the truth was.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Lucifer stood in an alleyway, he was ordered by his master to not kill his target. Even though he did not know why, he stood there, obeying the orders to not let them out of their home.

    He was already suspicious about the whole request, the commission was too high for just killing a disabled man and a child. Now that his master had found something odd with his targets, he had confirmed his suspicions.

    The man was also acting weird, he was yet to investigate thoroughly, but the man had a thick, dark, and disgusting ether around him. The child still has not noticed it yet because she has not learned anything related to ether.

    In the country of Eldris, which was also the continent''s name, children usually start to manifest ether from the age of ten. That was the norm.

    This was because ether was a natural energy that every living being needed to survive, so attempting to manifest ether at a young age would draw in the ether needed to sustain themselves, effectively killing them.

    So most manifest ether when they reach the safe age of ten, with some geniuses manifesting ether at age eight or nine, but that would be natural. However, there were some legendary races such as dragons and phoenixes, races from which children could manifest ether at a very young age, with some dragons manifesting ether from birth, though only in extremely rare cases.

    But those two races were just legends, there was no proof that they existed, except old stories that told about the destruction the dragon race had caused almost two thousand years ago.

    Then there were another two legendary races¡ª Vampires and Avians, both races were the opposites of each other.

    Vampires were nocturnal, and together with another nocturnal race¡ª ''Nocturne'', they lived in the lands of shadows, where the sun does not shine. The Nocturnes were a race that served the vampires.

    Similarly, the Avians are diurnal beings, they lose their powers in the dark according to how dark it is. They live in a place where the sun does not set, but some of them come to the settlements of other races to act as saints of their church.

    Both beings are rarely seen outside of their territories since they are afraid of having to fight while they are weak.

    Lucifer was born as a vampire, but strangely, he did not possess the strong qualities of a vampire, nor was he weak under the sun. And he also knew of the existence of dragons, though he did not know about phoenixes or cloudstriders, a legendary subspecies of dragons. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    As he was lost in his thought, he suddenly heard a loud crash from inside the house, followed by a loud scream of the little girl, Clara.

    He quickly checked if all of his offensive tools were ready and headed towards the sound.

 Chapter 56 Wow! Someone have enough free time to cause chaos

    Lucifer silently jumped in through the high window in order to see what was happening. The scene before him was taking a dark turn, little Clara was crouching in the corner, trembling and desperately but hesitantly looking for an exit.The man, Percival, was covering his head with both his hands, he was shaking violently. The dark ether surrounding him was oozing out, it has gotten even more thicker and more disgusting.

    Lucifer jumped in, his master had instructed him not to kill, so he had to make sure they do not die of other causes too, unless his master instructed him otherwise.

    He rushed to the girl and touched her head, his dark green necklace started to emit light as the wind started to spiral around the girl. He removed his hand, allowing the wind to form a thick barrier.

    He then turned to the man kneeling on the ground. Percival was turning his head left and right extremely fast, and he started to scream and bang his head on the floor. "No!... Please..." His pupils were gone, and the white eyes were becoming redder.

    Slowly, darkness started to seep into his eyes through the side, making his thrash the ground and scream in pain. He got up and started walking like a heavy drinker. He sprinted forward and hit a wall, blood dripping from his forehead.

    He finally stood up straight, his arms waving down loosely like a laundry set for drying, it was as if they had lost all of their strength. He froze, his body twitched, his elbow rose quickly like an external being was using his body.

    Lucifer knew what had happened to him, "Possession!" He muttered.

    It was rare to be possessed, since ordinary people needed to pay a huge cost if they were to use possession, which sometimes even resulted in death if not done properly. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The usual culprits behind possessions are entities without a physical form. But it was rare for them to take interest in the living.

    But he had seen this once before, and the results were devastating. He had sacrificed most of his power from his previous encounter with possession. Even the place where that battle took place was ruined and now is a flux zone, a land with aggressive and untamed ether.

    He readied himself as bad memories flowed into his mind, was this why his master said not to kill them? He wondered if trying to kill him would have invoked possession right away. "No wonder the two hundred sten reward he muttered."

    Percival''s head turned back like an owl, and like a badly programmed robot, the rest of his body followed. Both of his eyes had turned dark. He leaned forward, preparing to strike. And without warning he rushed Lucifer who managed to draw his blade in time and block the attack.

    ''Master, the man has been possessed as you expected, I am sorry I have engaged in a battle.'' He sent a mental message to his master as he deflected another blow, stepping to the side as Percival lunged at him, hitting another wall and dripping more blood.

    Fortunately, he had put Clara to sleep. Even though she was still his target, he did not want to mentally destroy a girl his master ordered him not to kill.

    But unknown to him, she was awake, but unable to open her eyes or mouth, like her body was asleep but her mind was awake, unable to wake her body up.

    Lucifer collected wind in his left arm and blasted the possessed monster away. He was surprisingly weak for someone possessed. Possession had many constraints, and one of them was strength, a person needed to be very powerful in order to attempt possession.

    But Lucifer noticed something¡ª every time he was hurt, the dark ether within him increased in volume. He needed to finish him off quickly, but his master had yet to answer.

    ''Do whatever you can to stop him'' His master''s reply came, ''Kill him if you are unable to do that''.

    Lucifer was relieved, he could now kill his enemy without restraints, saving him was, obviously, never an option for him. He was not an expert at possession.

    Lucifer quickly closed his eyes and opened them again, calling the wind to his aid. His pupils turned green, he held his arms forward and crossed his fingers.

    ''Wind''s Mercy'' He said calmly as the monster rushed forward with broken arms. The air around them shifted, the monster Percival did not take more than two steps before his head flew from his head rolled on the ground.

    But this time, it was not just his head that Lucifer cut, he also cut the entire body to pieces. He knew that a possessed would not be killed by just severing their head, experience was said to be the greatest teacher. It was the same for Lucifer.

    He hoped it would die if he at least cut it enough times. But shattering his hopes, it began to recover. But parts did not connect the way a human should look like.

    He could only describe the entity in front of him as a true horror. It had a few teeth and two toes in the place of its eyes, there was one eye instead of a mouth, and an ear on a cheek.

    Without waiting for Lucifer to finish inspecting its body (Because who does), it swung its arms.

    Lucifer quickly made a shield to his right by thickening the air around him. After absorbing the impact, he blasted the arm back with enough force to tear it away. The torn arm made of hair, cheek, and a leg hit the wall, forming a fissure.

    He jumped back to get a proper footing, he kneeled on the ground. Using wind as a propeller, he jumped forward, swinging his sword as he was about to make contact.

    He cut directly through the monster''s chest, but it was futile. Dark ether spewed out and mended its body.

    He was angry at the regenerative monster, but he hoped his master would soon reach him and he had to hold on.

 Chapter 57 One with the wind

    Lucifer attacked the monster relentlessly, only for it to regenerate and attack him back. Luckily he had gotten a catalyst from the ethercraft researcher''s room that could hold an immense amount of ether inside, that was the only way he could carry on with the fight. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.A strike came from his left, he jumped back instead of blocking. He felt air moving around behind him, he could not take his eyes off the monster, but he took a quick glance.

    It was Clara, who was sleeping, he had forgotten about her. He instinctively put a shield in front of him, deflecting a rather stronger blow. Now he also had the girl to think about, his master had only told him to kill the man, not the girl.

    He jumped to the side, cutting the monster in half vertically with the wind. He was trying to get the monster''s attention, and luckily, he succeeded. The monster turned to him instead of the girl.

    The monster roared, this was a house in the middle of the town, but the people outside seemed to be continuing on with their business as usual, the person trying to possess the monster might have put up a sound barrier.

    He swore in his head as he rolled to the side, avoiding another blow that cracked the ground. If someone had heard them and called the city police, that would be a lot of work off of his shoulder.

    But he could not complain, he had taken up a work worth two hundred stens of commission. And it was his responsibility to ensure that he completed his work... Just after he figured out on how to work his way through the regeneration.

    Through fighting, he was getting the familiar feeling of being ''one with the wind''. It was a sensation he could never forget, an experience he was longing for. He knew that he was getting more and more powerful, he was regaining his former strength.

    But he had tried to do it for a long time, and this was the first time he had succeeded. Maybe it was the influence of his master, he silently thanked the Recorder.

    With newfound confidence, he again lunged at the monster, holding his sword firmly in hand. He dodged a wide swing by ducking and channeled ether to his sword. He jumped up and landed on the monster''s head.

    "Detonate," He said calmly as if he was just sitting there and sipping tea. But the ethercraft was not calm at all. The monster''s whole body exploded, painting the whole room red with charred flesh, and blasting Lucifer away.

    As the caster, Lucifer knew about the outcome and had protected himself from gore with a thick shield made of air. He still held the sword''s handle firmly as he deactivated the now red barrier. He hoped things just ended here, but he knew otherwise.

    The possession was not complete yet, and whoever was coming, it was an incredibly powerful existence. He cannot do this alone, he needs help.

    ''Master!'' He called Recorder mentally, ''I am sorry for my incompetence, but please lend me aid''. He had fought expecting Recorder to come, but somewhere along the duration of the fight, he understood that his master expected him to finish this.

    The time was running out, and the monster was regenerating, but this time it looked more like a human, no, it was a human. The only difference was the eyes without pupils, they both were completely dark.

    It was bent backward after regenerating, facing him. It got up, with the joints clicking into place with a cracking sound. Lucifer did not need a lot of information to understand that the possession was complete.

    It turned around, and gave him a smile that stretched all the way to its eyes. But it did not talk, making Lucifer wonder if the possession was complete or not. A complete possession would result in the ability to talk.

    If it could not talk, that meant only one thing. The possession was not complete yet. Lucifer got a new sense of motivation to fight, he was getting his old powers back, and the possession was yet to be completed, he could do this. (Disclaimer: Never attempt this when you are transported to another world, you could actually jinx it.)

    The possessed Percival opened his arms widely, welcoming Lucifer to attack him. It hurt his pride, being looked down upon. "Don''t look down on me!" He screamed as he lunged in for another attack.

    "Gale reaper" He said to himself as he propelled forward with the help of the wind. Sharp and invisible blades of wind formed around him as he moved forward.

    The blades did not even touch his enemy, Percival waved his hand and Lucifer was blasted back. He had grown stronger, but was no match for the person in front of him. He could not even fathom how powerful the actual entity is.

    He formed a wind barrier behind him to absorb the damage he got when he was blasted onto the walls. He was getting desperate, this was not a person, he could deal with his current strength. Not even half of his actual strength had been returned.

    He had called for his master mentally and he had gotten no response, ''Does he think I can do this on my own?'' He questioned his own strength.

    A thought suddenly came to his mind, he was not Hawthorne now, he is Lucifer, The Sin of Pride. He got up with new resolve, if he was a sinner of pride, then he had to be prideful.

    He extended his right hand, and started chanting-

    "From creation''s dawn to this very day,

    Oh beings of wind, I humbly pray,

    Heed my call as you once swore,

    Serve me well, till I breathe no more.

    Vanquish my foes, with fierce might,

    Even in death, let me stand and fight."

    Powerful gales started form around Lucifer''s right arm, his left hand was firmly gripped on the right one as he groaned in pain. But he had finish the spell or it would go out of control and exhaust his ether.

    "One with the wind!" He screamed the words through his pain, the gales becoming larger and more ferocious.

 Chapter 58 One without the wind

    "One with the wind!" Lucifer screamed in pain. He could no longer properly control the violent winds, but he could still keep them within the large house.The furniture was all torn into pieces, like tattered cloth rags, and the ground looked as if a wild predator had marked its territory. Violent wind blades made the whole place into a ghosthouse. With scratch marks all over the place.

    The possessed monster, Percival, had stopped smiling. He looked rather serious, sparks of electricity flew around him as he defended the invisible, sharp blades that came towards him.

    The being looked at him with disdain, slowly raising his arm, the palm facing backward. A dark aura was cast out from his palm, slowly turning into a long rod. Another lump of darkness was also cast from his palm, traversing down the long rod and forming into a sharp, curved blade at the end of the rod.

    He held forward and inspected the scythe he had just created and then readied himself to attack. Lucifer, who was having a hard time controlling the violent wind, directed his shape wind toward the man. But the possessed Percival''s skill with a scythe was on a whole different plane of existence.

    Lucifer watched in horror as Percival effortlessly fend off the invisible blades, sparks of darkness flying out as blocked the sharp blades. He walked forward, deflecting the attacks aimed at him.

    Lucifer concentrated, "Concentrate," He was talking to himself, "assimilate into the wind, become one with it." He was trying to perform an ethercraft he performed in his peak. but it showed no signs of success.

    Lucifer took up his blade once more, if the wind was not working, then he could use the one he was most confident in, it was his sword skills. Skills he had trained to achieve, those skills never left him, they only grew in mastery with training.

    Lucifer lunged at him, but without any wind propelling. He clashed swords with the Percival, whose skills and speed were both better than his, but his winds helped him to stand on equal grounds.

    Sparks of darkness flew out as they exchanged blows with one another. He could hear the clash of metals, but he was one hundred percent sure that the scythe was not made of metal.

    He aimed for Percival''s head, who leaned back just enough to avoid the blow, following up with another attack of his own, it was a swing that could not be blocked or dodged, but the thick wind was enough for him to block it.

    Their exchange continued with no regard for property, both forgetting the existence of a child sleeping inside a wind barrier. Fortunately, Percival''s attention was all focused on Lucifer. It might be because of the creepy white mask he was wearing.

    Lucifer suddenly felt a chill, as if he was in the presence of another grand entity. Percival also stopped his attacks. Both were looking for the source of the strange energy, but Lucifer soon found the familiar feeling of his master. He smiled, turning back, "You have arrived master." he spoke in a subtle tone.

    Recorder materialized behind him, but there was another masked young girl behind him, she wore the same mask as Lucifer, and two other ladies behind her, both of them wore a plain black mask without any features other than its two eyes.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Clara could hear a fight going on in her house. One was Percival, another one was the intruder who came in through the window.

    Percival had started to act strange since morning, and now he was screaming and lying on the ground. She was unsure of what was happening, but her legal guardian¡ª Miss Mina, had told her to not leave the lab the day before.

    She had disobeyed her instruction because she was bored and wanted to play with Percival. Now that she had sneaked out and headed back to her house, she saw a strange Percival, and now an intruder who was fighting him.

    But something was wrong, the intruder was strong. And had also put up a barrier and put her to sleep, she knew that all of it was to protect her.

    Many questions ran through her mind, the most important question was how could Percival hold against a person this strong? And there were other questions like, Is the intruder sent by Mina? Did she know about Percival''s strange actions?

    She could not think anymore, her mind was starting to fade. It was a miracle that she was still awake despite her body being put to sleep. Slowly, her thoughts vanished, and she fell into a deep sleep, she heard just one thing clearly before fainting¡ª "Me and My Devil."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Oh! he seems weak," Seraphis muttered, adjusting her mask uncomfortably, "I really wanna fight him after the possession is complete."

    "While I do agree with you," Eleyn answered, "It would be better to finish the anomalies early."

    Without another word, Selena shot a fireball at the possessed. Which he easily deflected, but the next blow was not as easy. Seraphis lunged forward, swinging her thin sword weakly. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The monster smiled and tried to deflect the sword with his scythe, but he was blasted back and hit the walls, bending his body in two... sideways.

    That was when Lucifer understood why their fight never destroyed the house, there was a barrier supporting the structure. Someone had planned all of this in advance, must be his commissioner. He had fallen into their trap.

    The monster got up and adjusted its waist, it clicked into place with way too many uncomfortably satisfying crack sounds. It then corrected its broken arm, clicking it into place with another crack.

    It spun the scythe in a clockwise motion and caught it, abruptly stopping the spin. Dark ether started to spew out of the weapon, it walked forward, and the dark ether was starting to surround the monster.

    Lucifer stepped back, the fight had gone out of his control. All he was right now was a mere watcher. He looked at his master, and the two women behind him. The black mask was as tall as the Recorder, the other one was around three inches shorter.

    Seraphis and Percival engaged in a more fierce battle, her face told that she was genuinely and thoroughly enjoying the fight before Eleyn came in and stole her entertainment.

    The clash of metal ensued as Eleyn stepped forward and raised her hand to touch her chest, she bowed slightly, and spoke in a voice unlike her usual one, it was deep and more refined. "Me and My Devil." Just one sentence was enough to wipe the smile of Percival, it was like he knew how potent the skill was.

 Chapter 59 Core? I Hardly Know Her!

    The whole place went cold, freezing the whole place. The moisture in the air became visible and white, covering the surface with its white beauty. Eleyn stepped forward, the air around her was quite perverse. It was hot and was melting the ice where she stood.Slowly, the ice-cold atmosphere started to turn into extreme heat. The entirety of the ice started to melt, the air was starting to get distorted and blurry as the water vapor started to disperse.

    The place was as hot as inside an oven but nobody felt the heat, rather, it was more of a warm and comforting atmosphere. But the monster Percival was not so lucky, he tried to put out the fire as it burned his green vest.

    Flames started to appear around Eleyn, they formed a pair of folded wings and two horns, but they were longer and more twisted than the ones Judge saw on his father''s head. Her eyes, her pupils to be exact, were set ablaze.

    She propelled towards Percival with the flaming wings giving her a boost, the possessed had no choice but to dodge. But it was still in vain as half of his abdomen was burned to crisp in an instant.

    She followed up with a kick without allowing the enemy to recover, but Percival quickly made a wall of darkness to protect himself. But she shattered it, though with some effort. He moved to the side in a flash and tried to cut through her unguarded back, but a hand made of flames stopped his scythe mid-track.

    He looked up to see the being that had caught the blade, it was an entity made of fire. It had two glowing red dots in place of its eyes. It looked more or less like a devil as it smiled creepily.

    Percival let go of his weapon as he jumped back and summoned more darkness. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a screech that sounded like multiple voices were wailing loudly.

    He produced another scythe, but this one did not have a solid blade. Rushing forward he stricked Eleyn again, the scythe changing shape midway and becoming short. Once his swing passed through in front of her without touching, he changed the shape again, together with direction trying to slice her again. But was blocked.

    "It is starting to get more intelligent, the possession is not even halfway complete," Seraphis muttered, the only person near her was Lucifer.

    She looked at him again and spoke, "You were frustrated about the regeneration huh?"

    Lucifer did not answer, but he gave a very subtle nod. He was not trying to be disrespectful but his ethercraft, the one with the wind, had taken a huge toll on his body. Even moving his tongue seemed too big of a task.

    Using the ethercraft for a few more minutes would have made him immobilized. He could recover by drawing in ether from his catalysts, but he needed to recover just a bit for his body to be able to take in the ether.

    "You see," She sat near him, "When a being is getting possessed, it is natural to have regeneration, you should look for the core. There would be a core placed... no, designated inside the victim for the possession to take place. It is not external, rather, there should be an organ in which all the ether would be focused upon. You need to completely destroy that."

    Lucifer shook his head weakly, which went unnoticed by Seraphis, he had experience from fighting a powerful possessed before, and had won even though it had cost him greatly. He was really familiar with the regeneration and core.

    He had cut open the possessed body multiple times already, and there was no core organ anywhere inside the body. He was keen when it came to sensing things related to ether, and he had made a hopeless discovery.

    The whole body was like a single core organ. Whenever he cut them there always equal amounts of ether within each and every part of the body he cut. The ether would seep out from them and concentrate somewhere, with all the pieces joining together there.

    The first time, joining was messed up and created a monster. The next time, it joined in a proper human shape, which was a sign of the possession getting more complete and the being getting more intelligent.

    Seraphis deflected a wave of darkness that was headed toward them, "Damn it Elleyn, can''t you finish this up properly?"

    "I could have but there seems to be an anomaly." She shouted as she redirected a swing from the scythe.

    "What anomaly? And speak more loudly the town cannot hear you."She said, (Translation: Speak quieter, I can hear you. But my pride won''t allow me to say it properly.)

    "There doesn''t seem to be a core in this being!" She wanted to counter, but there is a suitable time and place for that, and this was not one of the options. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Huh?!" Seraphis was confused, she was not the best when it came to ether. She barely knew other principles apart from her own. "What do you mean by ''No core'', You expect me to believe that?"

    "It is your choice to believe, but I am speaking the truth." She tore off an entire arm of Percival. Along with the scythe that seemed to be growing in strength.

    Judge was getting sick and tired of just standing around, he wanted join in on the fight. If the problem was regeneration¡ª then he could use a little of nihility to completely erase the enemy. He sidestepped to avoid a slash of darkness that was burning.

    But, as always, there were problems. First was that he still did not know how to use it properly, and the target was large. Second was that he had exhausted almost half of his ether, and the principle for nihility was rather ''ether consuming'', this was despite the fact that it required a huge load of psyche too, a department that he lacked in.

    He could still cast it with the psyche he had, but the problem was ether. He had exerted too much will that used up a lot of ether from his reserves, he needed a catalyst. When he was in his clone, controlling ether was what required ether.

    The battle was intense, and the place was nothing like a house. His mother started to draw in more ether from her catalyst, not that she was short on ether, but she was going to cast another principle.

    She started to chant, psyche would be affected by the state of mind, and she was currently fighting melee, so chanting was a good way to ease up the psyche consumption.

    "Oh servant of flame who lay in the nether

    your master calls, arise from thine slumber,

    Show the path that leads the fire

    Claim the ruins that you desire,

    Destroy all that which you see

    For I do not show mercy."

    "Hell''s mercy," She said as she extended her right hand to conjure a sword made up of pure flames, two chains came from the handle and twisted on her hand, positioning itself securely.

 Chapter 60 Judges new goal, meet the worldbuilding department

    Everyone watched her as Eleyn swung her sword vertically. Percival dodged back, but she was not trying to hit him with that swing, but something else. There was silence for a fraction of a second before a slash of flames cut Percival in half, burning the two sides.The whole barrier surrounding the inside of the house was destroyed, and the flames had reached the nearby lake, splitting it in two. Screams ensued from the town as the line of fire that was sent forward erupted and exploded, burning anything and everything that was close to it.

    Lucifer could not care less about who lived and died, but this would invite trouble. The police force from even a town as remote as Tross would be quite formidable. He wanted to chide the lady, but he held himself back. Partly because he could not talk, and partly because he had good survival instincts.

    Also, seeing that the woman had caused this much destruction without breaking a sweat, he knew the police would hesitate at least a bit. He breathed heavily as he tried to recover from his fatigue.

    Seraphis looked at him, and after thinking for a brief moment, she called Selena toward them. "Michael," She said it so naturally despite forcing herself to say the title, she cringed internally. "Heal this gentleman. If only you want to, of course."

    Selena looked at her mother, she had put her in a tight spot. She had only started to learn ethercraft recently. She had been told of the principle from her master, but it was still hard.

    But she had used a lot of healing magic in her past world, way more than she could ever hope to remember. But the problem was that her previous world''s magic system was not based on principles. She just had to know what she was doing.

    She remembered the desperate cries and angry shouting from a battle in her previous life. She was still a child, unknown to the world''s orders. She just did as she was told, healing people and helping with the chores.

    "He can recover on his own." Selena did not want to take a gamble, "Let''s conserve our strength for when we truly need it." The monster was burned... no, evaporated, leaving nothing behind, not even ashes remained.

    But she could still sense a bit of residual ether, it was normal that her mother was taking it easy since she could not sense that tiny bit of ether that remained. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The fire dissipated, and Eleyn walked over as if she had just taken a stroll along her garden. "The monster is still alive, I need to do a power sealing ritual to keep the regeneration at bay, takes time." She said as she took out a purse from behind an embroidery flower on her dress.

    "Which means we either need Alex or Lord Gereon to kill this guy without the ritual," Seraphis muttered as she unsheathed her sword. The monster was regenerating from nothing, first, a blob appeared, and then, two arms popped out from it. The body was slowly formed as legs shot out and the blob expanded to create a chest and abdomen.

    It was the first time for Judge to see the blade of his master. She had never fought without unsheathing her sword in front of him before. The blade was dark red, like blood that was never wiped from it.

    A thick red mist started to surround the thin blade, "Chi no Kiri" Seraphis muttered in a chilling tone, she was getting serious.

    Judge was not sure of what to think at this point, he needed to contact the world building department and request a rework... Japanese? really? First, it was Latin, he did not care much because he was not in the right state of mind to care, and now it was Japanese. What''s next, English? Oh wait there was a diary in English.

    He gave up on thinking.

    The possession had gotten stronger as Percival smiled eerily, it was not the smile of a foolish creature that only knew how to attack and defend, but it was a smile from a creature that has the ability to think.

    She readied herself, but unlike the other two, Lucifer and Melina, she did not lunge forward to attack. She was reading her enemy, as a melee specialist, she was not the type to rush in rashly without a plan... Yes, you heard that right.

    "Nebula Sanguinis," Percival spoke, the voice was understandable, but it was surreal. It was a mix of various voices, young voices, old voices, and male and female voices. It was chaotic, he adjusted his throat, and the voice became more clear.

    "Nebula Sanguinis," He repeated, looking at the blade that Seraphis held. He spoke with confidence, as if he was just having a friendly talk with his colleagues. "A fine blade... I must admit, it is rare to see a wielder who has not lost their sanity." He held up both of his arms.

    Seraphis''s eyes widened in surprise and she rushed forward and cut both his arms. "Huh?!" She seemed even more surprised as both arms fell, because she only cut one. Not just fall but they were disintegrated, crumbled into ash. She did not do that, and she did not know the name of her sword was Nebula Sanguinis.

    She saw a purple flash from the corner of her eyes, but did not have enough time or the luxury to investigate.

    Percival was not surprised with two arms that were dripping blood. "quite feisty aren''t you, little bird" He said as he stepped back and ducked to avoid swing. The wooden support behind him was turned to a red mist, only the part that was cut.

    He tried to regenerate his arms, but they were not coming back, wiping the confident smile off of his face. "You! What did you do?" He asked furiously. Leaning back to as another attack came through. Shifting his center of gravity, he raised his leg to strike her chest.

    Seraphis stole a glance at Eleyn, "She completed the sealing ritual?" It was rather too quick, even for Eleyn. The power sealing ritual took a lot of time to even prepare. She could not take a good look at Eleyn as she blocked a strong kick from Percival.

    Percival stood up straight and created his arms from darkness. "The Nubes Draco is annoying." He shouted and raised his arm toward Eleyn, who was just sitting there, unguarded.

    Seraphis, who watched what he going to do, rushed to protect Eleyn, there was a great price to be paid by whoever broke a ritual, but this guy was strong enough to avoid it. Her efforts were in vain as he shot a blast of darkness at Eleyn.

    A ritual was different from using ether or psyche, it was a medium used to ask the gods for help. But the results may vary according to the god''s satisfaction, the initial stage is a stage where offering are made to reach the attention of the god.

    The next phase was the important one, it was known as the Audience phase. It was the phase where you pray to god, and god will answer to your faith and plead.

    But if anyone dares to interrupt the phase, they will face god''s wrath, only the strongest may survive, but even they would suffer permanent injuries. This was common knowledge, so she wondered if the man was foolish to attempt such a feat, or just cocky.

 Chapter 61 Judge vs. A Very Stubborn Projectile

    Judge activated his enhanced cognition, the dark projectile turned slow. It was hardly moving, but so was his body, he had just one chance here, and he had to make good use of it.He concentrated, if he could just make a space of nothing in front of the projectile, then he could definitely block it. He tried to let the ether flow through him, which was not much, but just enough to create a small pocket. And just as he created a pocket of nothing, a thick wall of earth appeared just there.

    Selena was just standing around and doing nothing, she wanted to fight, but the fight was not something she could participate in. She was mesmerized by the attack her master did with the flame sword, she felt proud of her master.

    She now looked at her mother fighting the enemy, she could not see their movements, they moved at such a speed. Suddenly, the man got up and shouted "The Nubes Draco is annoying."

    She was confused, ''Nubes Draco''? It was her first time hearing the term, but she could think more. She saw the man creating two arms from darkness and pointing one at her master. She did not know what was going on, but she had the urge to protect her master.

    She instinctively cast a thick wall of earth, the wall broke the furniture and stood tall like an immovable mountain, but before she could hope for the best effects, a spherical hole was created where the dark projectile met the thick wall she cast.

    She panicked for a second, but then noticed that the projectile had disappeared too. She heaved a sigh of relief.

    As she watched, her ''thick'' wall became distorted and was crushed and crumbled into a ball as if it was a piece of paper. She could feel the ether from the walls go into the space where her wall and the dark projectile met. The wall vanished slowly as the ether from it leaked out.

    But before she could ponder on what the problem was, she heard a thud behind her, it was Judge. She rushed to him, she could think of nothing else, as if she was driven by an unknown force to help him.

    Seeing that everything was alright, Seraphis twisted her waist and spun her whole body, doing a full three-sixty before taking all of the force and giving the guy a good wake-up kick. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She could hear bones crack as he flew backward and hit the remnants of the broken barrier. Completely shattering the place of impact, and flying backward into the town, restarting the cries outside.

    She did not wait for him to recover, she closed her eyes for a second and opened them, changing the pupil to an orangey red color. Two massive wings sprouted off her back as she jumped up into the air and flapped them. Going out of the building through the slit Eleyn had caused.

    Once outside, she spotted a few trying to get civilians to safety through a teleporter.

    Teleporters were expensive, incredibly so that they were rarely used, even by the nobility, but the rules states that the police should not mind expenses when lives are on the line. So the teleporter was being used actively.

    She let out a sigh of relief as she watched the scene, she could do the explaining to the police later. She needed to take care of this problem without much more damages, and quickly too at that.

    She looked at the recovering Percival and descended toward him so fast that all that could be seen was just an orange line. She kicked Percival in the gut gracefully, making him vomit blood. As Eleyn had finished the ritual fast, and he could not regenerate, she was sure that it was fatal.

    But her expectations were shattered as Percival jumped back from under her grasp and recovered at an immensely fast rate. But strangely, his arms did not recover and were still supplemented by darkness.

    There was no time to contemplate what was happening¡ª because everything went dark. It was not her getting knocked out, but the whole world was shattering. It was being consumed by darkness.

    "Welcome to my domain, Mortal," Percival spoke in a serene voice. It was deep and chilling, she looked around to see the unescaped people and the police were still there, but all the structures were gone. Replaced by a world with an endless void of darkness.

    Seraphis was getting more questions than answers. She had an inkling about what kind of being was possessing Percival, her disciple had requested assistance, but this was on another level.

    The possession was still not complete, she was unsure of how much of the possession was complete, but the being was very powerful. She wondered if the entity was a god, but that was unlikely, since gods rarely interacted with mortals outside of rituals and blessings.

    Seraphis suddenly spat blood, she tried to move, but she could not. Her body was unresponsive, there was no restrictive ethercrafts that had been cast on her. She felt as if something in her was being drained out, making her weaker by the second.

    She looked down at her chest, there was a dark blade that had struck her from behind, it was bathed in her blood, gleaming without a light source. She spat more blood as she fainted, all she could see was the gleeful laugh of her enemy.

    Selena''s smile spread through her mind, and her moments with the vulnerable Judge. She wanted to get back up and fight, at least for them, but her body was dragged down and refused to move.

    Her daughter, who was holding Judge in her arms, watching the whole scene from afar, screamed in horroras she saw her mother being split in two.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes, it was darkness as far as his eyes could see, he blinked, still darkness. He tried to get up but he could not move an inch. Wasn''t he just watching his master fight Percival?

    "Judge"

    He heard a soft voice, a voice that almost made him forget all his worries. He tried to look around to see the person, but it was impossible, he could not move still.

    Without warning, the ground started to rise beneath him, making a seat for him to sit. "Clio," He smiled without thought, she was sitting and eating popcorn as usual, but he somehow felt more close to her.

    "How was your world?" Judge could still not get over her mocking laughter. It was as if she was pitying his entire existence, all of the warm feeling from before was replaced with a face of disdain. And to make it worse, she had his mother''s appearance.

    "What do you mean ''was''? Don''t tell me I died." He was clearly panicking, it has been not even a month before he was born.

    "You did not die, it''s just that you have not yet been born." There it was the infamous cryptic goddess'' speech.

    "Ah yes, my favorite part," Judge muttered sarcastically.

 Chapter 62 Judge: Did I Just Die? Clio: Not Yet, Drama King.

    Judge needed a break, he had been fighting nonstop and now of all time, he had to meet Clio. And he still has not found a good psychiatrist. "Clio," He knitted his brow and spoke honestly. He could not still move his body, but changing facial expressions was possible, and moving his head was possible, though only slightly."I have been in a nonstop drama¡ª Starting from the D¨¦j¨¤ vu, to talking to you" He sighed internally.

    "Do you know how much trouble that Percival caused? That guy turned back, now he turned into a monster," Judge''s voice was raising, "and he even decided to attack my mother... and what even is a ''Nubes Draco''?"

    "Judge, calm down." She said seriously.

    But he was anything but calm, "That time turner bastard, I don''t even know what happened to my mother." His eyes showed pure signs of panic.

    "JUDGE!" Clio shouted, and that got his attention, he stopped talking to listen to her. "Calm down first." She seemed down for some reason.

    Judge took a deep breath, it seemed he could move his internal muscles. "Okay... I am calm" He then sat in silence, allowing her to speak. He hated her for being such a child, joking around at such a hard time.

    "Judge, listen to me now." She was definitely not in the lively spirits that she usually had, she seemed rather sad than anything. "Time travel is never possible, even by a god. The happenings of the present are recorded in the Memoria Mundi, which in your previous world, it is called the akashic records. And those can never be changed unless you can access the said records"

    "Then how?"

    "It is not time travel... You are all in an illusory world. You still have not been born in the real world yet."

    This was a time where Judge should be confused, but his head was calm, and could think clearly, it was the work of Clio, he was sure. Thinking back, people sometimes acted out of character, and he could sometimes not think clearly to form a plan. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    When he first saw Hawthorne signing the contract, all flustered. He thought it was something that the paper reveal. But after he read it, that was just his name. Hawthorne was a being too prideful to bow down to some who just found out his name.

    They were certainly anomalies, and he did not even care about them. It was like his mind was clouded... as if he was just in a dream, a dream in which he could think, but not properly.

    As he was deep in his thought, Clio continued on with her explanation. "You are in a world created by the god of night and false realities¡ª Tenebris. He was also who was trying to possess Percival."

    Judge tried to nod his head, all to no avail. He was in deep thought, absorbing all that Clio was saying.

    "The outside world is frozen, nothing except time moves there. Tenebris was trying to descend onto the mortal world through possession, but it is more complicated than just possessing someone.

    "For a god to possess a person, they need a strong resonance, which is, of course, a rare phenomenon even among rare things. Next was that they need to possess an abundance of the god''s power, which can achieved through blessings.

    "The last thing was the willingness of the victim. Tenebris and Percival met none of these, but there was one thing that connected the two. And that was his extreme faith in the god of night, and possessing a unique divine power, one that was similar to the power of Tenebris.

    "So Tenebris took a gamble and created an illusory world with Percival as a medium. All because he wanted to walk in the mortal realm once more."

    Judge listened in attentively, his expressions softened, "I am sorry Clio." he was having trouble finding the right words. He had shouted at her for being immature, but the one actually being immature was him. He felt sorry for her, who had to put up with him.

    She smiled, it was genuine, and he did not feel annoyed or the usual warmth. "Don''t be, Judge. I am honestly happy whenever you spend time with me."

    Judge looked conflicted, but finally smiled and spoke "I will take that as a compliment." he did not say ''thank you'', he did not want to dampen the mood any longer.

    "Now listen to me carefully, I need you to understand a few things before you are actually born."

    "I''m listening."

    "I could only communicate with you because you were still in the illusory world. The same goes for both your and Selena''s parents." Her smile was bright, it was doing a bad job at conveying what she had just told him.

    "You mean!"

    "Yes... I won''t be able to visit you and talk to you anymore"

    The whole place went silent, Judge felt a familiar tight feeling in his chest. He just had a vulnerable moment with his master, and now the vulnerability was returning.

    He tried to speak, but nothing came out. His voice was hoarse, his eyes started to become blurry.

    Clio came forward and held his head in her arms, "Don''t cry, Judge... This is the fate of every being. Goodbyes are a natural part of life, you have to accept it and move on." She said as a drop of fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

    "The thing is, after the illusory world shatters, nobody would remember what had happened inside. Not even the caster.

    "So, Judge. Please forget about me and live peacefully, the time you have spent with me till now is more than what I could ask for."

    Judge could not speak, he wept in her arms silently. He did not know why he was crying, he never liked her that much to begin with, he always found her annoying. But here he was, unable to utter a word, just because she said they could not meet again.

    "Forget about me, but don''t forget to provide me with stories okay? I feel quite lonely with nothing to do."

    "Yes..." He sniffed the words out with difficulty. "I''ll... I''ll make sure... to provide you with the best ones."

    "That''s my boy," She retrieved her arms, Letting him fall towards the floor, which absorbed him inside. "Don''t forget to care for yourself okay... Love you... Judge." She spoke in a happy tone even though she was crying herself.

    Judge remembered a line that he heard long ago.

    "If you want to be kind, you are tested with cruelty,

    If you want to be strong, you are tested with difficulties

    And...

    if you want to love, you are tested with loneliness"

    The scene of a lonely Clio, sitting in a dark room, alone and sad came to his mind, she was crying.

    He was trying to take it easy in this life. He was just joking around with the idea of world domination.

    But now he had a new goal, a new purpose. He had to see her smile again, the smile of someone who hides their loneliness, he had to make her smile genuinely, and for that, he had to become a god. No matter what it took or how much it cost, he had to meet Clio again.

    He knew what it was like being tested with loneliness, and she had lived for eons, he could not begin to understand her pain, he had to bring her joy.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Selena still could not get up, some force was holding her back, wanting to nurse Judge. Her mother had already died, but she fought against the forces, her urge to run to her mother was strong.

    She was in a daze, she could hear someone screaming, it was her own voice. Her throat hurt, she had no strength left in her. But she got up and slowly walked toward her mother, tears dripping down her weak face.

    She could not discern between reality, she wanted to believe¡ª no, hope that her mother had not yet died. But she knew that it was not true. She fell to the floor weakly, she saw the man who had killed her mother and held up her wand.

    The ruby etched on the handle started to glow as she chanted.

    "From the skies, the servants rise,

    Seraphim, with wings of fire,

    Heed my call, O angels wise,

    With your light, descend and sweep,

    Reap their souls, may sinners be punished."

    Crimson fog started to come out of her pupils, "Trumpets... of apoc..." She fainted before she got the chance to finish her move. Before fainting, she saw a tall figure out of the corner of her eyes.

    ...

    Gereon was late to arrive at the scene, he saw a young girl fainting near his grandson just as she had finished her chanting. There was a body lying on the floor, it was split in half, and he knew the owner of that body.

    It was Seraphis, his son''s childhood friend, along with Eleyn and Corwin. They all went to the academy together. He prayed silently for her to rest in piece, he knew the world was an illusion at the moment when the whole world turned black. But he did that out of habit.

    He looked over to the man who was floating in the air as if he was high on some drugs. He marveled at the strength of the entity that was holding.

    The possession was not even quarterly completed, and it was nearing his strength in his human form. He had felt the energy of this being before from the cultists that attacked the dragons.

    Back then, he felt as if he had to transform into his dragon form to defeat his enemy. But that was just the feeling he got from the energy of this being''s blessing.

    Without waiting even a moment more, he decided to strike. He could not let such a powerful being roam in the world. And there was no shortage of being this powerful. One more would definitely hurt.

    ...

    Tenebris, the god that was trying to descend through possessing Percival, tried his hardest to complete the possession faster. It was almost a quarter way through, while complete possession was a challenge, he could not take chances. There were at least a handful of beings in the mortal world that could rival the gods.

    He sensed a strong entity near his descending place, an entity that could rival the gods.

    Tenebris (Now Percival) looked to the side to see a huge, towering dragon beside him. He tried to rush the possession even faster. He could not always put his hopes in the regeneration.

    ...

    The dragon Gereon inhaled slightly, the enemy had noticed and was trying to rush the possession. But now that he found him, there was no escape.

    Geroen smiled, but it was not visible with a dragon''s face. "Me and my Devil" He muttered, and the whole place went cold.

 Chapter 63 A new beginning always require letting go

    The whole place went freezing. Slowly being overtaken by extreme heat, but unlike when Eleyn had cast the same spell, there was no scream coming from Percival. He was burnt and disintegrated, quickly, painlessly.Ashes fell down, from which Percival again regenerated. The ashes came together as if they were being mixed like cement, and a black blob appeared.

    Two dark hands shot out of the thick and disgusting blob, then came the legs, but unlike the arms, they turned from a black fog to a white skin tone. (No the author is not trying to be a racist)

    Gereon watched calmly as the enemy was regenerating. He hated this type of guy in the past, but now, they were his favorite toys. "Regeneration huh? Must have been a good life, not worrying about hospital fees." His eyes were gleaming with joy.

    But he had no time to play around, he needed a good sleep outside of this illusion, so he decided to end the fight quickly. "Hell''s mercy." He voice was calm and chilling despite the heat.

    The dragon extended his hand, a flame sword appearing in its palms. Fires started to erupt from its blade, and without further ado, he slashed down.

    Fire went ahead in a straight line, slashing Percival in half. He did not burn, but just turned to dust and vanished. The whole unending darkness shattered, and everyone inside fell asleep, including Gereon, who quickly turned back into his human form.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The newborn kid cried, he could not open his eyes, but he knew what was happening. He had been born as a baby, he silently thanked the story deity for reincarnating him. He could feel his mother''s warmth, and a slightly sweet and tasty liquid entered his mouth.

    ...

    It was night time, and he could finally open his eyes without hurting. So he opened them and took a look around. The room had a Victorian era aesthetics, it was Judge''s favorite, not only were the interior designs a sight to see, but the sharing of information was also limited on this kind of setting, so a lot more pathways for manipulative battles were at his disposal.

    He would take it easy in this life, maybe do a small business venture, and maybe even try his hand at magic. He could only do so much in his last life, so he should live a fulfilling life in this world.

    He remembered what powers the deity of stories had given him, the three skills that he chose. He could use them to do more than the job she had given him. He could pull people into the Studio and manipulate the space, he was confident that he could make anyone accept to be under his wing. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    All he needed to do was pull in someone who wished to be strong and with high self esteem, and let psychology do its magic.

    He remembered what his mother had told the others while feeding him. He could understand the language, he had heard about his name ''Judge''. He did not hate the name, rather, he was glad that they did not name him doctor or engineer, which would have been awkward.

    Then there was the siblings part, he had heard what she had told to two young voices, "Amber, Liam, this is your baby brother, see?" She then held him towards them and he got a few calm strokes to his head. He did not like that part, why did he need siblings? He cried when they were caressing him in order to assert dominance.

    As he was recounting what had been transcribed on the first day of his new life, a portrait of a beautiful lady caught his eye. Hanging on the wall adorned with a wallpaper that had golden prints.

    It was his mother''s portrait, she looked just like she did in her previous life. Deep blue hair and another pair of ice blue eyes. Her hair was neatly folded into a bun and fastened using a hairpin.

    She wore a green full skirt with an emerald corset, there were several embroidery flowers of different colors, but it was just enough, not too much. Her bright smile brought a warm feeling to his heart.

    Then there was another picture, which was of his red haired father, he wore a black tailcoat, a black vest, and a white shirt.

    There were many embroideries present on his attire, golden buttons, and chains. he stood with a silver inlaid black cane in his hand, a black top hat with a golden token was the final touch.

    The next portrait made him uncomfortable¡ª his mother was sitting on a chair with his father. There were two children present, one was a boy with blue hair sitting on his mother''s lap, and there was a red haired girl who was standing in front of his father.

    He looked up in disgust, there was a brass chandelier hanging above. It made his hunch of the world being a steampunk one true. He wanted to sleep, but a red curtain caught his eye.

    The curtain was letting in a faint blue light, which let him see the room. But he felt as if he was forgetting something. It was somehow related to the blue light behind the curtain, but he could not put his mind into what it was.

    He could feel it at the end of his tongue, yet so far away. It was as if he had walked into a room and had forgotten why he did that in the first place.

    Suddenly, a wind blew through the open window, lifting up the curtain and letting him see the skies outside... and the bright, blue full moon.

    His head hurt as memories flew into his brain, memories of his time in the illusory world, his time in the dreams. He wanted to cry in pain, but no voice came out, he wanted to move, but his muscles refused to budge.

    After a brief moment, when he could finally move. He instinctively turned to the side, call it a baby''s instinct, because he had turned to where his mother was sleeping beside him.

    He grabbed her loose nightgown and held on tightly, he felt afraid, afraid of what kind of memories had entered his mind. But he decided to take the risk and look through it.

    Slowly, but surely, he started to remember his time in the illusory world created by Tenebris. He remembered Hawthorne and how he came to accept him as his master, it was not something that would happen under normal circumstances, but the dream world had many irregularities when it came to people''s minds.

    Then the scene went on to his fight with Seraphis and the scene of Selena accepting him as her master. And finally, his talk with Seraphis and then his talk with... Clio, the deity of stories.

    Tears started to swell as he thought about his trusted diety. But he held back the tears and took a determined decision. He would rise up to be a god, no matter what it took or how much time it took. He could not give up before he achieved his goals.

    Information was what he needed the most now, information about godhood and how to ascend to a god, even a tiny bit of info would do. And what place was better to get information other than the library?

    He should head to the library as soon as possible... after he had gotten bigger. Clio had warned him that things would not go as smoothly as they did before. His mother''s senses were extremely good, now that they were not masked by Clio''s efforts, it was impossible for him to leave unnoticed.

    He got into thinking, making himself relaxing slowly. He let go of his mother and passed into sleep, his thoughts faded into random dreams. His mother turned to him, half asleep, and slowly caressed his head.

    Soon, morning came, bringing in some annoying maids. Judge had almost forgotten them, he cried and pleaded to his mother for her to rescue him. But she only took that as her baby being cute and send him to bathe in the hands of the maids.

    Judge cried loudly as the maids washed him, he watched them with disdain while harboring a thought to lampoon their efforts, but it was not possible for a baby.

    He had his breakfast after the bath, and the two annoying siblings came into his room. (Actually his mother''s)

    ''How dare you step into my private space,'' He shouted in baby tongue.

    "haa, cute! He''s trying to speak!" Amber held his head and rubbed her cheeks against his.

    "Oh Amber, Liam," His mother spoke, "You both should get ready to head to the palace. it''s today."

    "Yes, Mom!" They both spoke in unison, much to Judge''s discomfort.

    "And remember," Her face grew serious, "Never mention anything about dragons, especially anything about you being a dragon... Okay?"

    "Yes Mom, we promise," Amber said excitedly, she was not curious, maybe because she already knew the reason why.

    Judge watched as they hurried off, chatting excitedly. ''Children'' He thought to himself and shook his head, at least he tried to. But he remembered one thing, they did not go this early to the castle, it was after a few days.

    He then understood what Clio meant when she said she had been helping him understand the world better. She was slightly changing the actions of people to another action that would benefit him.

    Clio... He no longer cried at the thought of her, he could still see her.

 Chapter 64 Dear dairy, I beseech you, please write yourself

    Judge, a three-year-old dragon who could barely see over his own snout, sat beside a desk on a chair that was definitely not built with dragon tails in mind, not that he had tails in his human form.He had lived for three years and had recorded various experiences, but most was just his daily life. He''d been giving messages to Clio with the stories, and now he had a good grasp on how recording worked.

    If he was recording while wearing his mask, he would be invisible to anyone and everyone. He was more like a spirit, passing through walls as easily as getting embarrassed in front of your crush.

    He had lived for three years and not once was he given the chance nor taught how to transform into his dragon form. But he had seen his sister do it once, she had been taught how to transform when she turned nine.

    He''d been given his own room when he turned three¡ª because apparently, dragons believe in tough love and early mortgages. Sleeping alone was now his nightly challenge, aside from figuring out how to brush his teeth without setting the bathroom on fire, because dragons still breathed fire even in base form.

    Dragons grew up faster than a rumor on the internet, but weren''t exactly known for their brains. Fortunately, Judge had the good sense (or sheer luck) to pick "enhanced cognition" at the otherworldly buffet of essential life skills.

    He was hailed as a prodigy after some guy brought in by his grand father announced he had ether since birth¡ª he was not sure how that was special, but he just took it as he had won the baby lottery.

    From then on, the compliments flowed like free samples at a supermarket. It was all "Oh, look at Judge, he can recite the alphabet backward!" and "Did you hear? He knows how to tie his own shoelaces!" Not that the shoes that he wore had laces, but the compliment was appreciated.

    Recently, he''d learned that dragons were considered a myth in the world. They roamed around disguised as wyverns¡ª a sort of budget-friendly dragon with fewer limbs. "So we''re pretending to be the knock-off version of ourselves? Great plan, guys," Judge thought sarcastically. It was like a celebrity going incognito by dressing as a cardboard cutout of themselves.

    He didn''t know why dragons were playing hide-and-seek with the world. When he asked his mother, she gave him the classic parental brush-off: "You''ll understand when you''re older."

    Fantastic. A cliffhanger. The only thing he hated more than cliffhangers were sly old foxes, greedy suck-ups who acted friendly just to mooch off his success, and Vine¡ª not the app (rest in peace) but the drink that killed him... and his Dad... also his Mom. Speaking of which, the image of Seo Jun''s face popped into his mind like an unwanted popup ad.

    Snapping out of his daze faster than you could say "dragon sneeze" (which, by the way, is a leading cause of forest fires), he refocused on the task at hand. He glanced at his diary¡ª the one he''d been forced to write in since turning three, because nothing says ''happy birthday'' like mandatory journaling.

    To keep his thoughts private, he''d been writing exclusively in English¡ª a language as foreign to dragons as modesty was to peacocks.

    He had only seen English in the diary of the researcher who researched ''nothing''¡ª something that involved nothing. No ethercraft principle using nothing. Why did all of the explanation make the principle feel like nothing important... oh wait.

    He couldn''t remember his mother tongue, but English was just hanging out in his brain like an old roommate who never left. He examined the diary''s cover, custom-made just for him because regular diaries apparently couldn''t handle the sheer magnitude of his thoughts.

    The diary spanned from October 18, his birthday, to October 17 of the next year. Today was the last day he''d use it¡ª time flies when you''re a prodigious dragon with existential questions.

    Unlocking the book (because privacy is paramount when you''re recording the secrets of dragon kind), he turned to the first page. The title read "Judge Drakonis," which sounded way cooler than he felt.

    Underneath was the date range: "18 October 2008 ~ 17 October 2009 ¡ª Aetus Nova." Aetus Nova, or AN, was the current era¡ª not that he''d been taught that yet. He knew the previous era was called Custos Aetas, which he suspected was Latin for "We ran out of cool era names."

    Putting aside any further distractions¡ª like pondering why dragon society was so obsessed with secrecy and uncomfortable chairs¡ª he picked up his fountain pen. Sure, there was a dip pen available, but who was he, a 19th-century calligrapher? S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He flipped to the last page and began jotting down his daily experiences, starting with how he had accidentally cast a fire magic in his room while experimenting with principles and setting the expensive curtain on fire, again.

    Good thing that they were filthy rich. And also the fact that the whole household was fireproof because... well, dragons and inflammable material aren''t exactly a fit match.

    Dear Diary,

    Today the whole house was highly active, everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow. It is my birthday, dragons mostly manifest ether at the age of four or earlier. the ones who manifested ether at the age of four would show something basic with the ether, since it was difficult to grasp a principle without experimenting beforehand, most just put up a simple show.

    Children who master ether before they turn four, show off what they have learned. Which is funny considering that dragons do so little in terms of learning a new principle. If they just put in a little more effort, they could be immensely stronger than we currently are.

    I decided to show a move that my Mother did when she was fighting the Tenebris guy.

    Hell''s Mercy is a principle that my grandpa invented. He is also a person who is actively trying to get more dragons into learning principles. He is my role model to get stronger, he said that Dad was as strong as him, But I haven''t seen both of them use ether other than teleporting.

    Grandpa said that I should start studying from Melina once I turn four, which is exiting for me since I like her kind personality.

    News came in two days ago that her father had died, but she just said "Oh, Okay" nonchalantly and brushed it off. I am only hearing about it today. I am curious about her history with her father, would it be rude to ask her about it? Maybe I will wait a while before asking.

    The judge looked at what he had just written. Yes, that was long enough, he had only emphasized what he had previously noted. There was no reason to recount today''s events since none were noteworthy. However, he felt compelled to add something he included at the bottom of every page.

    I will come to get you, Clio

    He always wrote that to remind and motivate him to attain godhood. He had yet to search the whole library to get clues on how to achieve it, partly because he could only access it a few months after he had turned two. And the other reason was because it was so damn big.

    He folded the book, and a parchment flew out. It was a paper in which he had written how each letter of the English alphabet should be pronounced, just on case he forgot that language too. He was too lazy to create a dictionary with meanings.

    He took the paper and put it inside the diary before locking it by the belt that was around the book. He then put the keys in his Studio. The book was not entirely un-openable without the keys, but dragons were good at keeping their distance from other''s privacy.

    Judge bent back on his chair and stretched both of his hands high. He let out a loud yawn and turned off the ether lamp that was on his table. Blue Moonlight penetrated the otherwise dark room.

    He separated the red curtains and opened the glass window. Watching the blue moon, it was his favorite thing to do, since the moon always made him feel like he was watching Clio. There was a blue moon behind her when they first met.

    After a long while he turned back and headed towards the bed. He did not close the window, since his mother had told him that the windows had protection runes on them, and leaving them open or closed won''t matter.

    Runes were used in rituals to call the spirits or other lower entities, but they were incredibly useful if used in the right way. He heard from Melina that it was his mother who had set up the runes on every window, she said it took a whole month to be completed with the efforts of many other helpers.

    His consciousness slowly faded as soon as he hit the bed. Tomorrow was a big day for him, and he had spent his entire day in the training ground and the library, he wanted a much needed rest. He let the soft cushion pull him into his dreams.

 Chapter 65 Tavern brawl, when ice meets portal

    Limdon, a city that never slept¡ª mainly because if you did, you might wake up without your purse¡ª was bustling as always. Home to over a million, its streets were alive with opportunity... or at least the illusion of it.For every successful deal made, a hundred wallets were lightened, a hundred hopes crushed. Life was very hard in a city as big as this, especially in places like a tavern, where fights broke out as frequently as the bartender''s complaints.

    And today? No different.

    A broad-shouldered man and a lean woman were circling each other in the center of the tavern, their gazes locked like two wolves over the last scrap of meat.

    The man wore a shoulder guard and a tasset, giving off the vibe of someone who liked to look intimidating. The woman, meanwhile, was clad in a light, full leather armor, and a cloak draped over her back, and both wore a white mask with a smiley face that blended so well with their face it looked like it might be glued on. No one could tell where the mask ended and their skin began. Creepy? Maybe.

    Both had knives strapped to their backs, but no one had gone for them yet. The crowd, naturally, was loving every second of it.

    "Don''t let that brute win!" yelled one woman in the crowd.

    "Teach her a lesson!" another man shouted.

    "Fight! Fight! Fight!" the rest of the tavern roared, because subtlety was not the specialty here.

    Behind the counter, the bartender rolled his eyes. "Remember, damages are on you," he called out, returning to his glass polishing. "The rules. City law. You know the drill."

    He turned to the nearest customer when called, "What do you like, sir?"

    The second bartender, though? He was just wiping glasses with the intensity of someone who knew more than he was letting on, eyes flicking between the fighters like this was the most interesting show in town. Which, given Limdon, wasn''t that hard to believe.

    As for the fighters, there was a lot more going on than a simple tavern brawl. The woman clenched something in her hand¡ª something small, purple, and definitely important. A card. The man''s card. And the tension between them crackled like the air before a storm.

    "You know that''s mine," the man growled, eyes narrowing.

    "Come and take it, then," the woman replied, voice low but teasing, as if she were daring him.

    They both stood still for a moment, scanning each other for weaknesses. Then, the man feinted forward. The woman flinched, just a fraction, and that was all he needed. He barreled forward like a runaway carriage, aiming a punch at her midsection.

    The woman wasn''t having any of it. Just before his fist connected, she flicked her hand upward, conjuring a pillar of ice that she could use as an assistance to dodge, neatly avoiding the blow. Rolling to her feet, she summoned an ice gauntlet, twisting her body to send the gauntlet smashing toward him. It was a move that screamed, "I''ve done this before."

    The man dodged backward, barely escaping the frosty kiss, but his balance betrayed him, and down he went. Flat on his back. The crowd howled in laughter.

    "Oooh, embarrassing," someone muttered.

    But the man wasn''t done. No sleeves? No problem. An orange portal flickered into existence beneath him, and suddenly, he was falling through the floor and out of a portal just above the woman. Midair, he twisted, aiming to bring his foot down right on her head.

    "Oh, come on!" she hissed, spotting the portal. She snapped up an ice shield just in time to block the incoming kick, but the force shattered the shield and sent her sprawling back into a table.

    She groaned, dusting herself off, as the crowd booed and cheered in equal measure. Her hand twitched instinctively to the card. And that''s when she realized¡ª it wasn''t in her hand anymore.

    Both of them spotted it on the floor at the same time.

    "Not again," the man muttered, already summoning another portal to grab it. But the woman was faster this time. She conjured a shard of ice from beneath the card, sending it sliding back toward her and at the same time jabbing the man''s arm slightly with the shard.

    "Ow! Seriously?" he yelped, retracting his hand as though he''d touched something hot.

    "Didn''t see that coming, did ya?" she smirked, darting forward to scoop up the card. Just as her fingers closed around it, though, another portal appeared above her, trying to yank her back by the collar.

    "Oh, come on!" she hissed again, dropping into a push-up and rolling away just in time to dodge the man''s grab. She clutched the card tight, flipping herself back onto her feet.

    "You''re really not giving that back, are you?" the man grumbled, though his voice carried a hint of urgency now, as if they both knew they were running out of time for something far more important than this tavern brawl.

    "Not if I can help it!" she shot back, breathless but defiant. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The two lunged at each other once more. The woman conjured a glacier sword, a long shimmering blade of ice, and pierced toward the man''s arm. Quick as a flash, he opened another portal, but she did not anticipate it this time. The sword passed through one portal and out another, right at his bent elbow.

    He twisted, grabbing the blade''s hilt as it emerged. "You think you''re clever, huh?" With a swift motion, he snapped the sword in half, shards of ice falling to the ground as he surged forward, fist ready for another strike with the broken sword''s blade in his hand.

    "And you think I''m not?" she quipped, "Please, you are just self centered."

    Absorbing the shards of ice to create another sword in her off-hand. She swung it toward him, but he blocked it with the iron guard on his forearm. For a moment, they locked in place, both straining against each other.

    Just then, the tavern door creaked open. The noise of the crowd died instantly as a lean figure entered, he was not tall, but was definitely not short either. His red hair, neatly combed, and a perfectly ironed black frock coat gave him the air of someone too refined to be in a place like this. A golden chain dangled from his waist, leading to a pocket watch kept inside his pant''s pocket.

    He also wore a plain, white mask with a smiley face. But it was more creepy even though it looked the same as the other masks. He had a very commanding presence around him, making other''s feel the pressure.

    "Asmodeus, Gabriel," the newcomer''s voice was smooth, yet deep and commanding like an army general. "Stop this nonsense. It''s time to return."

 Chapter 66 A very, unnecessarily elaborate docking station

    The man¡ª Gabriel, glanced back, visibly disappointed. "But she stole the card you gave me!""Excuses are unbecoming, Gabriel," the red-haired man snapped the pocket watch closed with finality. "I won''t hear any more of them. And what is this? Even children have more manners than you two."

    In an instant, the air around them warped, and the tavern dissolved into nothing. The trio found themselves in The Studio¡ª a personal domain, the gathering place of the Recorders. Judge, the red haired masked man, sat on a throne upon a raised dais, flanked by a long table with seven seats on either side, fourteen seats in total.

    One figure had already occupied the seat closest to the throne. Lucifer, the sin of pride, lounged with an air of superiority.

    The next two took their respective seats, Asmodeus sat near Lucifer, while Gabriel sat opposite of her.

    Asmodeus, the sin of lust, grinned as she looked at the man across the table. It was Gabriel, the virtue of chastity, sulking slightly as he slid into his place. Lucifer gave a slight, dissatisfied sigh as if he were looking at children having a quarrel.

    Judge had gotten better grasp of his powers these past years, he had made Lucifer submit to him via a script, it was just that simple. He also learned that others did not have to sign any contract to be bound by the skill, they just had to accept him as their master.

    Another thing he did was to improve his ethercrafts, with the enhanced cognition, he could grasp the principles better, he had spent his time improving his grasp of Nihility and the principle that Seraphis gave him, brawl.

    To him, teleporting to locations other than through where you entered is easy as he had mastered teleportation. Now he could move around with his studio.

    He had a good master-servant relationship with the three people present, he had told him that the recorders served a god who had descended to the lower realms as a mortal, the god was him without the mask. Their task was to provide him with stories they recorded.

    Judge watched them in silence for a moment, his mask unreadable. "You are Recorders, and tonight, you would head to the land of dragons" he finally said, voice echoing through the room. "You have one rule¡ª never remove your mask. Not while you record."

    He rose from his throne, teleporting the group excluding himself to the mortal realm, specifically to the bustling streets of Ti¨¦rmere, the Dragon''s Town. With a flick of his hand, he vanished, transforming back into his four-year-old self as he left the Studio behind.

    It was, after all, his birthday.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The House of Drakonis loomed over the city of Ti¨¦rmere like a great stone beast. The castle was absurdly large, with walls thick enough to make even the most paranoid noble nod approvingly. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Defense towers sprouted everywhere, as if someone had gotten a little too enthusiastic with their fortifications. But the real showstopper was the personal Cloud Weaver dock. In a world where owning a dock was rarer than a truly humble politician, this was the equivalent of hanging a neon sign that read, "We are very, very rich."

    Cloud Weaver docks were typically reserved for large trading companies or travel agencies, not private homes¡ª even for nobles. Maintaining one was like trying to teach a cat to follow instructions: expensive, time-consuming, and usually unnecessary. But the Drakonis family clearly didn''t do "unnecessary." They did "impressive."

    Judge, however, was too distracted by the weight of his formal black tuxedo¡ª especially the navy vest that clung a little too tightly after lunch¡ª to dwell on the castle''s grandeur.

    He checked the time for what felt like the hundredth time on his golden watch. Amber had given it to him for his third birthday, and while he appreciated the craftsmanship, it wasn''t exactly helping with his impatience.

    The watch was something else, though. Inside, a detailed engraving showed him, his brother, and Amber, all beaming up at him in a moment of sibling unity that likely never existed. The outer shell was covered in patterns so intricate that even the engraver probably forgot how they started by the time they finished.

    Finally, as if responding to his frantic checking, a massive Cloud Weaver appeared on the horizon, cutting through the clouds like it had an important night date. Judge grinned and started moving toward the dock with all the urgency of a man late for his own scheme.

    He barely noticed his siblings in the rush, even as he zipped past them. Amber was clutching a leather bag like it held all her hopes, dreams, and maybe even a sandwich. "Where''s he off to in such a hurry?" Liam asked, eyes wide with curiosity that only a five-year-old could maintain for longer than a minute.

    "Stein''s coming," Amber said, her voice dripping with the kind of wisdom only a ten-year-old could have. "Judge and Stein are practically joined at the hip. It''s a little weird."

    Liam, never one to pass up a chance to bounce around, started hopping on the patterned tiles like they were molten lava. "You know, Judge took forever to get ready today. That''s not normal. He usually just throws on whatever''s closest."

    Amber chuckled, clutching the bag tighter. "Maybe he''s got a thing for Raphael? They''re both coming, right? She and Stein, I was told she was on house arrest, but no way she would miss the party." She laughed hard at her own joke and had to stop running, doubling over for breath. It turns out, laughing and running wasn''t a combination her lungs were designed for.

    Meanwhile, Judge was busy living out his steampunk version of hallway surfers. He leaped over trays, dodged people like they were moving obstacles, and kept going with the kind of determination that suggested this wasn''t his first chaotic sprint through the castle.

    But when he reached the intersection to the dock, he slowed down. It was hard not to, given the massive wooden doors that seemed to exist purely to make an entrance dramatic.

    He did not have to push through the doors since there were people poring in and going out, he then stepped onto the Cloud Weaver platform¡ª a structure that seemed designed to make anyone standing on it feel important. But there was way too many people, even if he was the star of the party, it was hard to stand out in such a crowd.

    The platform was raised, of course. Cloud Weavers had a habit of being picky about where they docked, so elevation helped keep things smooth. The base pillars that supported the structure were made of reinforced steel and were coated with a material known as Luminary, the ether version of glow-in-the-dark paint.

    This stuff could absorb nearby ether and glow when sunlight wasn''t around¡ª kind of like a magical night light for the wealthy. It was rare, impractical for anything requiring real brightness, and completely unnecessary for a dock. In other words, perfect for the Drakonis family, who had way too much money that they had to spend in order to stay rich.

    Judge couldn''t help but admire the setup. Iron pillars stood in neat rows, holding up an elegant brass roof with circular glass panes. Huge chandeliers dangled between the glass, probably there just to remind everyone how rich the Drakonis family was.

    Three long bridges connected to the landing decks, and each was wide enough to fit a few Cloud Weavers if they didn''t mind cozying up.

    Two smaller ships were already docked, but they looked like rowboats compared to the behemoth heading for the third platform.

    Judge glanced at the massive clock, one that showed time on all four sides¡ª because why settle for one face when you can have four? And a huge lamp rested on top, glowing faintly with luminary that was just there to tell time. It was a marvel of engineering and an eyesore all at once.

 Chapter 67 Catalyst Chaos: How to Pretend You Dont Have Too Many

    As the incoming Cloud Weaver finally slowed down near the third platform, ropes were tossed out from the deck like they were going out of style. Workers caught them with practiced ease and tied them to poles. Then, one particularly brawny worker, who clearly skipped leg day in favor of arms, turned a knob on an iron table that was far too stylish to be just a table.Ether started to flow through the detailed patterns on the table, and the poles started glowing, and the wheels they where attached to started to spin inward, tightening the ropes and pulling the Cloud Weaver down toward the dock with a satisfying thud.

    Judge watched the ship dock with a masked excitement, his outward expression was that of a four year old who was yet to learn the ways of the world. But inside, he was really excited to see two of his pawns in the grand game of life again. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Both of them had accepted his terms to work for him, he enticed them with words like ''work together, forever'' and ''I''ll be the leader since I am the smartest''. Two young kids were really easy to manipulate, it was a break time for him after orchestrating industrial battles of information.

    He checked his pocket watch again without knowing why, the ship had finished docking and it took a whole five minutes to get things right and let the passengers head out.

    Everyone shifted their attention as armored knights started to come out one by one uniformly. After they all had gotten out and stood facing each other, they took out their swords and lifted them forward, forming an arch.

    Stein, the second prince of Eldris, walked forward. Together with his father and older brother, both of them were tall and slim. The king wore a neatly tailored, overly ornate regal dress. His blue hair was combed back neatly, there was a sword sheathed on his waist.

    Meanwhile, the first prince wore a white suit with gold embroidery patterns. He had a black bow tie and a few golden chains hanging from his waist. He had blonde hair that was combed to the side, coupled together with the fact that he was a prince, it was no doubt that he had ladies fawning over him.

    Stein immediately ran towards Judge, who facepalmed in embarrassment, "He has no sense of manner or decency... Should I really be using this Idiot over his brother?" he was silently sighing, "No, I can use him." He steeled himself, "A blade must be sharpened before it can cut."

    "Judge!" He jumped onto him to give Judge a hug, Stein was the same age as him, only a few months older, he had blue hair like the king. It was a sign of the royal blood. most of the males in the royal family had blue hair, with rare exceptions like the second prince.

    Soon, a group of ladies came out, and at the center was the queen, she had a blonde hair and almond eyes. Her features were sharp, her dress was red with many colored embroideries of different types. What stood out about her was her ears, they were on her head like a cat.

    But Judge''s focus was on the little girl beside the queen, Raphael, she was the Queen''s niece. Their background was ordinary, the Queen was a commoner from the beast race and she lived together with her brother''s family. They died together with their two elder daughters, leaving Raphael behind.

    Raphael too had blonde hair and sharp, furry ears, she wore an elaborate emerald gown with green flowers stitched on them, she came to Judge as The King, Queen, and the first prince all gave him a heartfelt smile before heading to their designated rest-rooms, they still had about an hour before the party starts.

    Judge, together with his two "Pawns", headed to his room.

    "Hey, Judge!" Stein took out a brand new wand, it was only a few months old at best, "Look what your mom made for me! Isn''t she the best?"

    His wand had a sleek design, the handle was blue colored with silver patterns twisting around from one end to another. The shaft was made of pure silver with a hint of gold and bronze, there was a transparent jewel in the place of a guard between the shaft and the handle, Judge knew it was the catalyst.

    "Huh?! I did not get a wand all this time and you tell me that my Mom gave it to YOU?" Judge acted surprised and jealous, of course, she would not give him one before he was four. But children are not meant to think logically when it comes to these things like jealousy.

    "Your mother made one for me too, it is not exactly a wand, but it is still a catalyst." Raphael showed him her necklace with a white stone embedded inside it, it had an iron holding and silver chains. There was a hue of pink and blue mixed in the white stone, making it look like the night sky, full of stars¡ª but color graded.

    Judge kept up his act of jealousy, "Heh! I hope Mother gives me one during the party as a present." He had gotten many catalysts in his journey across the world.

    He still had not officially gone out of the land of dragons, it was because children under the age of four rarely go out of the land, if ever. It was an unspoken rule, and is followed by even his grandfather who opposes many of the dragon''s ways.

    While he has not visited many places, he has gotten a good haul of catalysts from the researcher''s lab, he had searched the place after Hawthorne had taken the diary, because he visited the place after he turned one year old, after his mother''s watchful eyes relaxed off of him.

    While his collection mostly consisted of one time use catalysts, but there were some rechargeable catalysts with a deep pool ether and catalysts with deep ether holding capacity were both rare and powerfull.

    But he was yet to try them, mostly because he could not show anyone that he had it. And even when he went outside, he did not had the opportunity to use them, a dragon''s ether pool was plenty.

 Chapter 68 Gereon actually says something useful

    Judge had infiltrated the library without other''s knowledge ever since he could walk, but his grandfather caught him red-handed and provided him with books later.Even after two years, he still has not finished even a single shelf from the place. They were gigantic, a single shelf was unrealistically long in terms of both length and width. He wondered if the dragons were really as stupid as many books spoke, since none of the dragons had said that their psyche was bad.

    He could still remember his awe when he first saw the gigantic library with the ceiling so high, it seemed that it could almost touch the sky. A massive golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, brightening up the place. There were almost a thousand books contained on a shelf, and there were hundreds of shelves on the first floor.

    Stein rolled on Judge''s bed, the velvet cushion was too soft to pass up. Meanwhile, Judge was busy dismantling a complex glove artifact. There was no catalyst on it so it was not functional, his father had told him to research it to learn more about material alchemy.

    The bored Raphael wagged her long white tail which was previously hidden by her big gown. She had taken off the gown which she had to wear again at the party. She scanned through his collections.

    There were many artifacts that were not functional and were just kept as a trophy. It was Judge''s prized collection, everyone thought so, but Judge did not care about them because he had already researched and documented their engineering.

    It was not typical for a dragon to do... ''Research'', the mere thought would fill them with the urge to puke. The dragons, after all, were free creatures who did whatever they needed, their pride was unmatched.

    As Raphael''s gaze shifted from the shelf to the tea table to the grand, king sized bed that was definitely too big for a child. She went around like a curious child, turning on the bedside lamp, and tracing her fingers on the runes around the window sill.

    Her eyes finally caught a bookshelf, it was made of wood and had a reddish brown hue, it was ornated with gold fittings and patterns. There were a lot of books inside it, both big and small, a particular one was what caught her attention.

    It was termed ''Judge Drakonis'', she understood it was his diary. Even though she was curious, she put it back since she was taught that dragons value privacy a lot. But not before she tried to open it, curiosity kills the cat¡ª and she was a cat, and she still lives.

    She lived because it was not possible to open it, there were no visible locks, but it was locked. She tried her hardest to tear them open, but gave up after a few tries. "You need the key Raphael," Judge, who was watching all this, chuckled after she put it away.

    Raphael pursed her lips as Stein came to her and caressed her head. "Come on Judge, Don''t laugh." He said as if he was not laughing himself, Raphael''s face was too cute to ignore.

    "If you both have nothing else to do." Judge took out two artifacts, both looked the exact same, it was a black stone with three strokes of different colors. The middle one was white, the left one was red, and the right one was blue. "It is a functional artifact, you can draw things in the air, and change ink to any color shown on the surface."

    "Wow, lemme see." Both of them rushed to get the artifact from him. "How do you use it?" Stein took the initiative.

    "You would know when you give the artifact ether," Judge went back to his work, "Just remember that the writing would disperse after a while." He had only about an hour before the party started, so he had to make the most use of time and document his research on artifacts.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Gereon Drakonis sat in his office along with Erec Eldris, the king. To any outsider, it looked as if they were talking about diplomatic matters. But they were just reminiscing about old times. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Erec had changed out of his regal attire, it was unnecessarily over the top. "Gereon," His voice was calm and relaxed, "My eldest, Renald... He is getting worse by the day."

    "Huh?! I thought he quit drinking."

    "He did, for a little while, but he has started to pick it up again. And this time , he goes to brothels with his noble friends." He stroked his blue beard, "He''s even taken into gambling. You know I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn''t listen, and then I put him on house arrest, but the knights were easily bypassed."

    Gereon slowly stood up after Erec had finished talking, he went to his drawer and took out a cigar, and put it between his teeth after swiftly chopping off the tip using ether, the cut piece fell down and was burnt to nothing. "You see, a cigar is harmful to each and every species. Yet each and every species uses it.

    "Everyone uses it because it brings such bliss to you, and the cost for that bliss is your health. But even this cigar can''t kill you if you do not light it."

    Erec looked at him, confused, it was unlike Gereon to give people proper guidance, since all he could ever do was be annoyingly sarcastic¡ª extremely so. "What do you mean?" He swallowed his pride and asked.

    "What I meant is that, this-" He took the cigar in his hands, "Has the ability to kill me, but as long as I do not light it, it cannot do anything. It''s the same thing with people, you can keep dangerous people, but make sure to not give a window of opportunity to outdo you."

    The king nodded his head, somewhat understanding what he said. He started to see old Gereon in a new light, maybe he had a side like this too.

    But it all shattered when Gereon lighted his cigar and puffed out a smoke, "Did you not just say that it was harmful?" The king let out an exasperated sigh.

    "I said harmful, but why do you think I lighted it?"

    "Why?"

    "Because I have the absolute confidence that it cannot do anything to my body, it is like saying¡ª try me" He laughed as he let out another puff.

    "You are insane." The king took out another cigar from Gereon''s drawer and lit it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge shifted uncomfortably in his navy blue tuxedo, coupled with a dark green vest, it was so dark that the green was faint but visible. His pocket watch was safely secured in his navy blue pants, and the golden chains were dangling out, connecting to his waist, but it was barely visible under the tuxedo.

    The party hall was obviously big, it was grand with a high ceiling and three massive golden chandeliers hanging from it. A second floor balcony wrapped around the entire room, allowing the guests to watch the dance floor.

    Judge was watching the place through a window, he checked his pocket watch frantically, and he waiting for something. He could feel the recorders who were wearing the masks he gave them.

    The party was yet to start, but the place was bustling with people. A giant door with detailed carvings stood on one end, it was closed for the entry of the royal family.

    He kept glancing at his golden watch, occasionally looking at the guests who were at the party, he was waiting for something to happen. Finally, he closed his watch, "It''s about time," he muttered.

 Chapter 69 Fireworks? Indoors? Judge lives a dangerous life

    "It''s about time," Judge muttered, finally closing the watch and putting it back in his pocket.Suddenly, a servant at the door clapped his hands and everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to him. The whole place went dark as all of the chandeliers were turned off, the only source of light was the blue moonlight that the high glass panes let in and the luminary that was patched onto the pillars on the walls.

    The door opened with a dramatic flourish as the royal family entered and the light returned. The King, followed by the Queen, and three children behind them. Renald wore a cream tailcoat with a black vest and shirt.

    Raphael wore a deep ruby gown with a black bodice tied back neatly with golden threads. Stein, on the other hand, wore a royal blue tailcoat with a matching vest and pants. He had a few accessories on the shirt that made the otherwise plain shirt more elaborate. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge was about to enter, but he needed to wait for the king and his grandfather to finish their speeches. The king climbed the steps to the second floor to address the gathering, and the Queen and the others stayed down.

    A butler stood on the center platform between the two stairs that lead to the second floor, he one hand on the marble railing and used the other to snap, the snap echoed throughout the gigantic hall.

    "Now," His voice was loud, as if he spoke through a mic, "The king would speak, glory to the empire." He stepped to the side and bowed with his hand on the sword on his waist.

    Erec stepped forward in his red regal attire, "I..." His voice was deep and domineering, "Erec rex Eldris, formerly congratulate the youngest scion of the great Drakonis family, the family that has been the face of the dragons even before Aetus Nova. Judge, son of Drakonis on his fourth birthday."

    The audience all gave light clapping, unlike the tavern, there was no cheering or loud noises. The king stepped back to let the head of the house take center stage. Gereon stepped forward, he wore a black tailcoat.

    "How many months has it been lads?" Gereon was not the one to speak formally, and he was famous without it. "My eldest granddaughter''s tenth birthday was just two months ago, and it is already the next birthday of my youngest grandson. Time sure flies fast."

    After a brief speech and easing the audience, Gereon clapped lightly two times. The light, once again, went out. But the blue moonlight, instead of being spread through the room, focused on a grand door that stood atop a small flight of stairs.

    The door opened inwards revealing a figure clad in a navy blue Tuxedo, his long red hair was let loose in a wolf style haircut. Judge descended down, this was the time when he had to show off his ethercraft.

    Judge, as a soon to be mastermind, did not want to attract any attention towards him. So he decided to show off an ethercraft that was not ordinary or too attention grabbing. If he went with the ordinary, people are gonna ask where the genius went, and that was a pain to deal with.

    With a deep breath, Judge solidified the air underneath where his foot was headed. The crowd clapped lightly at his little performance, as if he was a magician doing tricks for them. The claps, of course, were a formality.

    Walking on air did not take up much ether, but the principle was said to be complicated, so not many dragons know how to do it. Judge had learned the principle from Lucifer via script writing.

    But his shows did not end there, if it did, it would be too ordinary. He summoned many tiny clusters of fire and injected them with ether, then he covered them with ice and quickly sent them through portals he made before they melted.

    He then conjured up another ice ball and blew on it for effects. Mist spread throughout the hall as the clusters of fire made tiny eruptions. It was a medieval equivalent of a fireworks display, but indoors.

    Judge descended from the air and stood on the platform, he clapped twice and the lights returned. He bowed with one hand on his chest and the other lifted in the air. He rose again to the avid clapping of many.

    The show was not too ordinary, and was definitely not a show off when it came to speaking in dragon terms. He had put on a show that was expected of a genius, and now he could focus his attention on other matters.

    Judge joined up with Stein and Raphael after an exhausting talk with the nobles, neither of the parties wanted to talk to each other, but it would be rude otherwise. If he had put on a much better ethercraft display, they would all be still flocking to him.

    "Must be exhausting huh?" Stein asked, "Lucky I did not have to go through that on my birthday."

    "Me neither, why did you have to put on such a show?" Raphael asked after gulping down a mouthful of cake.

    "You guys have to do that on your tenth birthday, but it''s much earlier when it comes to dragons." Judge took a piece of cake from the table while trying not to be too horrified by the vine that was being served by a maid next to him.

    "Hey no fair... I am a dragon too!" Stein imitated a dragon''s breathing. He had no care for his surroundings or the people staring at him, thinking ''He might be our ruler one day right?''

    "Stop it Stein you are embarrassing us." Judge turned around, covering his face as if he did not know Stein to begin with.

    "Aww, C''mon Judge, Take it easy will ya"

    "Yeah." Raphael agreed with Judge, she also turned around and covered her face like she did not even know him.

    "Not you too Raphael!"

    As the children were having their time, Renald, the first prince, approached them. He was a person whom Judge despised to his core, a drunkard who is also a big slut. He was also easily manipulated by his so-called ''friends''.

    But still, Judge was not the type to hate someone just because they were a bad talk in all of the social circles. He hated Renald because he was too hard to manipulate, Judge had only one conclusion on how people perceive him as being easily manipulated by friends.

    ''He is deliberately acting'',

    but Judge did not know why.

 Chapter 70 Churches are alway the grounds for villains

    Judge put up a fake welcoming smile as Renald got closer, "If it isn''t the first prince," He bowed with a hand on his chest, "I am honored.""Oh, please Judge... Drop the formalities, you are the star of today''s party." He laughed slightly, compared to Stein, Renald had better manners, but he was a drunkard.

    "I am honored, I thank you for your attention, your majesty." Judge straightened up. "Why don''t you try these cakes, the maids have put a lot of effort into making their best."

    "You are a real gentleman, unlike my little brother." He said jokingly, "I will take you up on that offer then." He gulped down the last of his wine and put the glass on a nearby pushing tray that a maid was using to collect the used wares. He then took a small plate for cake.

    Cakes were considered a starter in this world, they were eaten as desserts in his old world. In the culture of Eldris, desserts were sweet drinks that were usually made from fruit pulps, but what stands out is the fact that they aid in faster digestion.

    In fact, if it is a drink that does not provide an aid in digesting, then it is not considered a dessert no matter how sweet or how much fruit pulp it contains.

    Judge put his plate and fork away after eating the cake in the same tray that Renald put his wine glass. It was almost time for the main course, he had been waiting for this sumptuous feast for a long time.

    Stein took another piece of cake and started to eat it, but was careful not to eat without manners. ''Good'', Judge thought, ''he is at least willing to improve''.

    Raphael put away the cake and tried to taste a glass of wine, but was swiftly stopped by a maid and was offered a grape juice instead. She said the previous one was spoiled and as both drinks were the same color, she believed her.

    The doors on the left side of the hall opened as many tables were pushed through, and seats followed. Workers got to work, briskly arranging the tables and chairs, the tablecloth was black with gold trimming.

    Food arrived as everyone started to take their seats, plates were arranged, and then came the utensils. Three maids and two butlers were at each of the tables, with many walking in and out of the hall bringing in food.

    Gereon raised a toast, "Here''s to Judge Drakonis, whose laughter and kindness brighten our lives every day. May this year bring you all the joy you give to others!" He said in a loud voice, and the others followed his words. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge sat excitedly as he waited for his food to be served, the served food varied from person to person. People were asked about what food they would like to eat at dinner, it was a polite letter included in the invitation.

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    Not sending one was considered being stingy, a word that every noble would try to avoid to their absolute best. The drakonis family was the opposite of being stingy, and people can tell that they did not hold back with the spending, the party was just that grand.

    Soon his favorite food was served, it was steak from a carefully breeded farm monster. The monster was called ''Worrak''. Judge had tried the green steak a while back and had fallen in love with the meat ever since.

    People usually had it with alcohol, they say that it was the best combination. But he hated the idea of anything related to alcohol, especially wine. He had always eaten it with a dip made specially by his mother, and he liked it.

    As the dinner ensued, the recorders were watching after the little lord. Judge was supposed to be a god that had planned to walk the mortal realm of Aark, and his underling was the Observer, the person whom they served as master.

    Lucifer was quiet, unlike Gabriel and Asmodeus who were squaring off against each other on who would get the best record. Recorders borrowed the power from their master, the Observer, to observe any scenes without anyone else watching them.

    They do not have any special gadgets or artifacts with them to do the said recording, they only have to observe. Lucifer observed the whole party hall like an entity that was forming an evil plan behind the scenes, as if he were watching his victims have their last meal.

    But of course, he was not going to take on a gathering consisting entirely of dragons. While he had grown in strength after Observer forced him to submission, he knew very well that he could not take on even a group of five grown dragons.

    Asmodeus was in charge of observing the outside, but she came in saying that there was nothing of interest. Both Lucifer and Gabriel knew that was not the case, Gabriel thought that she had come to pick a fight with him again.

    But Lucifer knew the real reason behind her answers, she loved Gabriel, which even she was not aware of. And in order to prove herself that she does not, she always pick fight with him.

    Gabriel was assigned the main task, which was to observe their true master, Judge Drakonis, the god who had descended into the mortal realm.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, in the church of the god of night. Believers were in deep prayer, with a priest leading the faithful activity.

    The audience all had old and tattered clothes. The church was a small one within the slums, built with the funds authorized by the government, the priest was assigned to work here by the higher-ups within the grand church of the the god of night.

    The prayer was soon over and everyone got up to leave, but the priest saw a shadow through the corner of his eyes, and it did not give a friendly air.

    The priest hurried to his room, took out a candle and lit it. It burned in a bright orange color, he dusted his white clothes and clasped both his hands together, he started to recite a prayer-

    Oh great one who controls the night

    one who weaves dreams with unseen light

    I pray for your unending grace

    I pray for your aid

    I pray for your strength.

 Chapter 71 The meeting in the dark, who took the lights?

    Oh great one who controls the nightone who weaves dreams with unseen light

    lord of night who darkens the path of sorrow

    I pray for your unending grace

    I pray for your aid

    I pray for your strength.

    As soon as he had uttered the prayer, the bright flame of orange hue was quickly turned to a dark flame that emitted a white light.

    The priest raised both of his hands up, and the white light emitted on the walls turned dark, the shadow that the priest saw before slowly slid into the dark spot in the wall, and a man exited.

    He had hair as white as snow, and his eyes looked like a blue, bright jewel. But he suddenly removed the mask on his face, thick slimy substances were between his face and the mask like glue, his features changed. His eyes turned brown, and his hair turned black. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    There was a long scar across his eyes, it was not deep, but it ran all the way from his forehead to his chin through the skin on his left eye, which he still opened without any problem.

    "Alexis," the priest muttered, "You are as creepy as ever... Who was this time?"

    "A kid from the wolves, he looked too confident." Alexis shrugged, "Naturally, as his senior, I had to educate him."

    "Killing people is not educating, Alexis," A man entered through another dark spot on the wall, "It goes against the teachings of our lord. You must not kill without reason."

    "Yes, yes, whatever you say..." He leaned in, even though they were far away. "Mister apostle''s pet."

    As soon as he uttered those words, a knife made completely from darkness passed his face, barely missing and dissolving momentarily as it hit the wall. It gave him a slight scar. "Ooh, scary." He acted as if he was surprised, wiping the blood off his face.

    "Be careful with your words," The man came into the light, he had a really dark, it was as dark as charcoal. His eyes looked like the night skies, the tiny stars swarming in those two pupils.

    "Aldric, please keep your calm." The priest said, he had an air of authority, the two of the others were not in the best mood to listen. But they obeyed regardless, they won''t get anything from fighting against each other.

    The three of them got seated on the rectangular wooden table, Aldric and Alexis were seated on the short end, while the priest sat on the long end. There was one seat left, they were waiting for someone.

    Soon, all the dark spots on the walls pulsed, and they pulsed again. A cloaked figure entered through a dark spot that both Aldric and Alexis did not use. Everyone stood up as soon as they saw him.

    "We greet the apostle." They bowed and said in unison, the earlier hostility was all gone, replaced with pure fear.

    "Be seated," His voice coarse, "Praise the night lord." Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire

    "The one who offers us grace." They replied and took their respective seats.

    Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes before the apostle spoke, breaking the silence. "I am yet to receive revelation from our lord." There was a hint of sad disappointment in his voice.

    "It has been three years hasn''t it," Next was the priest, his tone was that of confidence, "but whatever happens, I believe our god would not abandon us."

    Alexis and Aldric did not utter a word, the reason was simple. The apostle did not grant them permission, and they were here for a separate reason, the meeting was just a part of it.

    "Are there still outsiders... Priest Destin?" The conversion was serious from the start, but now it somehow got even more serious. "We don''t have much more tolerance left them."

    "I think..." Destin, the priest, sat in deep thought for a while before answering, "We have gotten almost everyone, there were one or two left when I last checked." He facepalmed, "They are so stubborn, talking about god not giving them food."

    "We will put them away from their misery then." The apostle looked at Alexis, who smiled and replied.

    "That... We will."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Two young men were working at a farm, their famished bodies could speak about their poverty. Yet they were hard workers, not resting without completing their work. "The people are idiots." One man said as they toiled the land.

    "How many times have you told me this already," The other man had a smile, it was a bright and energetic smile contrary to their poverty. "If they wish to, it is their life."

    "Man, why can''t the government just give us the money instead of building a useless church." He tilled the land harder in frustration.

    "Now now, come one Derek," The other man was still positive, "Focus on the work will you?"

    "Whatever you say, sleepyhead"

    "I am not a sleepyhead, Just to clarify."

    Derek stopped his work and looked up to the sky, "Once I save up enough, I will head to the city and start a new life there." He clenched his fists, "Start a family, have kids, and look after them... Life has so much to offer for me to be tied here."

    "I think I will take up traveling." The other man did not stop his work.

    "Huh?" His initial astonishment turned to a grin, "Even a man like you has goals huh? Finn?"

    They both laughed. Unknown to the danger that they were about to face.

    Alexis stopped on a nearby tree as he started to observe his prey, he had clear instructions on how to go about his killing. And he would not be rash as this was a direct order from the apostle.

    "Maybe it is not a bad idea to believe in a god." Finn moved on to their next topic.

    "I can''t believe you are so foolish, the only person you can rely on is yourself," Derek said in an irritated tone, "Remember Finn, no god will help you without a reason, even with so many of them..." But as soon as he said that, his head exploded, sending blood and brain matter everywhere. His body soon followed suit.

    The positive smile on Finn''s face was yet to vanish, but his whole body was covered in the thick blood of his best and only friend.

 Chapter 72 Judge hates people, but people likes him

    "Cheers!"Judge, Raphael, and Stein clinked their wine glasses together and drank the fruit juice inside, pretending it was wine¡ª except Judge... he hated wine. They had finished their meals and were having desserts.

    Everyone except Renald was having fruit juices for dessert, while he was having another glass of alcohol instead of dessert. The king ordered him to have a glass of minted dessert juice as it was a great help in dealing with the hangover.

    He obeyed without question, as it was a regular habit of people to have minted dessert juice after they drank a lot of alcohol.

    Judge pitied him in his mind as he got up to leave for his room, thinking the party was over. But he had forgotten about a very important event that followed half an hour late after eating¡ª it was the event of giving gifts to the birthday person.

    Judge hurried off to his room to get some more research done before heading to bed, completely forgetting the fact that he was the center of today''s party. It would be better to say that he did not care about the party.

    To him, all of this was a mandatory event that he had no choice but to attend, and now the only part he was excited for, food, was over. He now had only the thought of finishing his research as quickly as possible.

    There was only one reason why he was diligently studying artifacts, there were countless divine artifacts that were extremely hard to do research on, and they might provide him with clues to attain godhood.

    He passed the door on the right corner of the party hall, but was abruptly stopped by his mother. He was thinking of Clio, and his mother resembled her, with the only change being her iris which were ashen white while Clio''s eyes were ice blue.

    "Clio!" Judge accidentally blurted out in a low voice, but he immediately came back to being calm. "Mom! What''s the matter?"

    "Where are you headed?" His mother pretended as if she did not hear the name he had just blurted out, after all, dragons put a great value on other''s privacy. If it was something he could speak to her, he would have already told her.

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    "To my room, there is nothing more interesting going on." He spoke honestly, he knew that his mother could read him like an open book¡ª as far as he let her read him through his face.

    "You can head back after the gifts," She grabbed him in her arms, "it is important and you absolutely cannot miss it." Judge silently accepted his fate as though he was a prey that had already been caught by his predator.

    Eleyn put down her son before anyone noticed, she did not want anyone to speak ill of her son or herself. She watched as Judge slowly strode towards the chair that was prepared for him, she could not hold back her chuckle as she remembered how much Judge hated the gifting part of his birthday, he was trying to run away from the place on his third birthday.

    Judge sat on the chair with the air of someone who had done this way too many times to count. And after a while guests began to come in with the gifts they had prepared.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alexis was having a hard time sleeping, he went too hardcore with the killing and had just made his target explode by injecting corrupted ether via an artifact. He just wanted to see his prey exploding, but now he was paying for it.

    He was completely covered in the blood of his victim, and it was getting harder to scrub it off.

    After a long time in the river, he finally got rid of all the thick blood on his clothes. He laid them to dry under the sun as he climbed a huge tree to take a nap.

    He dreamed of a young girl, her warm smile filled him with contentment. She was a frail girl, but he was always by her side to look after her.

    ...

    Liyana, a black-haired girl, was extremely frail, she was at the age of fifteen. The best she could do was the daily tasks that required less strain on her body. But she was not someone who would sit still and rest on a bed.

    She did all the work she could, she did not have a family that was bound by blood. But she had one person whom she could call family, it was Alexis.

    Both lived in poverty, but always had each other in every moment of their life. Alexis always took the heavy work, he farmed and brought in firewood, he also picked medicinal herbs that provide a person with an ample amount of energy.

    Liyana had corrupted ether in her body, it was destroying her body from the inside¡ª very slowly, but surely. It was unknown when and where she got in contact with it, but she was always like that when Alexis found her, he was a kind soul then.

    Both the children were devout believers of the god of light, Veritas. They always went there to pray together every day. One day, when both of them were working together in the kitchen, Liyana suddenly fainted, but Alexis caught her in time.

    She was squirming and screaming quietly as he put her in bed. He sat near her the whole day, making sure she did not feel lonely, he could do nothing else.

    The next day, he decided to head to the church alone, and as he was praying, the priest came to him and asked why he was praying so earnestly. He spoke honestly to the priest and even cried on his shoulders. He felt that pathetic.

    The priest tried to console him, telling him that it was okay and god Veritas would help him with his hard times.

    Seeing Alexis calm down, the priest offered him a solution. He could borrow the purifying artifact from the church to purify the corrupted ether from his friend.

    Such an Artifact was a rare thing to be seen in a small church, but this church, even though small, had many people coming in every day. So the central church issued a small purifying artifact to the church.

    Alexis was overjoyed and forgot to see the grin that the priest hid, he went home and told Liyana the good news. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Liyana, in her weak state, touched his cheeks lovingly. It was rare for her to do that since they always quarreled verbally, it was how they showed their love for each other.

    She asked him to lean in closely, and when he did, she gave him a tight hug and kissed him. It lasted only a short while, but to Alexis, it lasted a lifetime.

    She then instructed him to return the artifact and they should not waste the artifact''s strength on her. A divine artifact was charged through the surrounding people''s faith in the god whom the artifact was made for.

    But it was still hard to recharge once it was used to purify, she knew of the fact, and with an artifact without any usable energy, they could not defend themselves against wraiths or monsters in the form of spirits.

    But Alexis, driven even more by love, decided to use it regardless of the consequences, not stopping to think even once as to why the priest would give him the artifact while considering the consequences.

    He finally cured her corrupted ether, but the cost was high. The corrupted ether was not dispersed but they all came back into her body forcefully as they had no other medium to go.

    Alexis watched in horror as the love of his life, Liyana, thrashed and screamed loudly in extreme pain. Her body started to deform and got twisted and turned, she was not a human anymore.

 Chapter 73 Judge wants more sleep, but he just cant

    Alexis was frozen in place as he saw the monster tear through the house and into the large village with a huge population of almost ten thousand. It was still early in the morning, so people were only getting ready for work after breakfast.Countless screams of horror ensued in the city and the alarm bell rang from all the four towers on each corner of the village. Knights quickly armed up and came to confront the monster.

    As the village was surrounded by a small forest on all sides, the monster attacks were frequent, and they were experienced.

    Alexis and Liyana were kind towards all of the villagers despite their hard times, and so the villagers always treated them with kindness. So Alexis decided to try and convince them to stop attacking the monster.

    But he was wrong about people, nothing he did convinced them that Liyana was not a monster. They even tried to convince him to let go of her since she had turned into one, and that they understood his pain.

    He watched in horror as they coordinated their attack against the monster, he rushed to her aid, he could not accept that she had turned into a monster.

    When he saw them attacking her relentlessly, he tried to defend her. After being hit with a pretty forceful hit, he fell to the ground. But determined to protect her, he tried to block the next attack with his body.

    He jumped in between the attack and his lover, but before he was hit. The attack was received by the monster Liyana who moved in front of him, there was a blood-covered silver weapon that had pierced her chest, her torso had turned into that of a human, and her eyes had lost their luster.

    Alexis watched as she died in his arms, protecting her world even after turning into a mindless monster, he did not know how much days he had cried for, and he still carries it as a resentment, why did he insist on curing her?

    Alexis woke up from his nightmare, he looked at the clothes that would have already dried up. He watched the clouds, reminiscing about his only love. Today was her birthday... his heart tightened. He gave a self-deprecating smile.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Happy birthday, young master." It was the head of a knight family of the drakonis house, he was the final guest to provide Judge with gifts. Judge sank into his chair and gave a sigh of relief as the arduous part was over.

    In the huge Empire of Eldris, there existed countless races with vastly varying forms, cultures, languages, and many others.

    There were also things that were common between all the races. On was a single language that belonged to no race but was used by every race. It was a language widely used in the Capital, and was taught by every race to their children.

    Second was the ruling system, each race had one lord, and the house of the lord was the face of that race. But an entire race was not possible to be controlled by a single lord, especially since not every race lives together in a single place.

    So, knight families are assigned by the lords to every place where their race lives in a group. A knight family head would take on an oath in front of Veritas, the god of light and truth. Any oath or promise taken in the name of the god of truth was followed with diligence. Your next chapter awaits on My Virtual Library Empire

    Both knights and the lords were called nobles, but the hierarchy was clear. Nobles were named as such as they were the noble protectors of people.

    Judge closed his book and blew out the candles as he finished his research for the day, tomorrow, he was supposed to take classes for swordsmanship tomorrow, and there were also classes on how to use ether and ether principles.

    So basically speaking, his schedule went from mostly free to ''working extra time on your nine to five.''

    He passed out as soon as he hit the bed, the red velvet cushions sucking him into a deep sleep. He dreamt of himself, when he was just a child attending his mother''s funeral.

    He wore black clothes and the people around were all trying to console him, telling him that they would all be with him whenever he wanted. They told him that he could rely on them.

    But these very reliable people all left him when he had nothing left, these were not the greatest of backstabbers, but they laid a foundation for his ideals of life.

    Not trusting anyone came with a great cost, it was called loneliness. And Judge always longed for someone to trust while still being unable to trust someone. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But Clio had proved him wrong, she was just like him, lonely and longing to meet someone. But unlike him, she did not have anyone around her, the only person she talked to comfortably was Judge, and now that he was gone, he could feel her loneliness.

    Of course, she could summon other dead souls like himself, but he could somehow tell that he was special to her, it was as if he could feel her emotions when she saw him. He did not feel them then.

    These thoughts soon gave way to his sweet dreams, he dreamt of a great grassland, It stretched to ends as far as his eyes could see. There was a single tree that provided him shade, he was lying on Clio''s legs, and she slowly caressed his head.

    The sweet dream ended abruptly as if the universe was telling him to ''stop dreaming'', like... literally.

    He looked around, it was already morning, and his sleepiness was gone. He did not know if this was another part of being a dragon, but after getting a couple of hours of sleep, he would wake up refreshed and could not fall asleep again without tiring himself first.

    He could not hear the timely knocking on the door, ''Guess I was awake early huh?''

    He got up from his bed and even before changing from his night clothes, he sat on his desk and started his work on the artifact.

    Today he would look at a new collection, his grandfather had only recently heard about his artifact collection and had gifted him a few prized artifacts.

    Maybe it was time to do research on the active ones instead. the ones without catalysts were just the starting point in his big journey to uncover the secrets of artifacts. Which would, hopefully, give him a clue on attaining divinity.

 Chapter 74 How to learn sword (without dying)

    "Keep your chin up! Don''t look at my legs, look at me!" Dosav''s voice boomed across the training yard, startling a few birds nearby. Judge winced. Why did it always sound like he was getting yelled at, even when the man wasn''t mad? Dosav was normally pretty chill, but the moment swords got involved, he turned into a drill sergeant with a grudge.Judge sighed. Swordsmanship wasn''t exactly his forte. He''d picked up a few things from Seraphis¡ª though honestly, ''learning'' might have been a generous term for what was essentially survival training with occasional visits to the ozone layer.

    When you are in an adult body, fending off an ether infused attack was one thing, but if you think fighting Seraphis was hard, try being a four year old trying a grown man''s swordwork¡ª it redefined nightmares, and his nightmares normally involved wine.

    And he wasn''t using Enhanced Cognition either. Nope. Today was all about good old-fashioned growth. Sure, he could''ve made this a hundred times easier by activating his abilities, but where''s the fun in that? Apparently, self-improvement involved getting repeatedly smacked with a blade.

    Dosav feinted left, and Judge instinctively blocked the upward strike. He smirked. His reflexes were improving¡ª kind of, in terms of adapting, the answer was yes. He was incorporating grown man moves into a baby body which he would eventually grow out of.

    "Good! Timely and precise block," Dosav said, almost sounding impressed. "But¡ª don''t lean so far to the right. Unless you plan on hugging the dirt, it screams that you don''t trust your own arms when blocking."

    Judge gave a half hearted nod, feeling like his spine had been personally insulted. The next strike came fast¡ª a straightforward stab aimed right at his chest. Judge blocked it with all the confidence in the world¡­ right until his abdomen felt the sharp tap.

    "Seriously?" he muttered, blinking at the offending area of his armor. "Was that even legal?"

    "You missed the shift." Dosav sheathed his sword, which unfortunately didn''t mean the lesson was over. He always did that dramatic pause thing, like he was about to drop ancient wisdom. "''Basic principle,'' blah blah blah, got it," Judge thought, rolling his eyes internally. "We''re dragons. Basics are like¡­ entry-level breathing."

    Dosav, oblivious to Judge''s sarcasm, continued, "It''s not just about where you think I''m aiming. It''s about where you should be."

    Judge sighed. "Fantastic. Sword philosophy." He had been busy since morning, from researching artifacts to stamina training, now he was doing sword training. The last thing he needed was a theory on swords.

    It seems he can never escape the thing called theory. It was a nightmare that haunted him in college.

    The lesson dragged on until noon. By then, he had blocked, dodged, and occasionally hit the ground enough times to form a sort of physical checklist of failure. At last, though, he had something to look forward to¡ª ethercraft training. Today was the day.

    He''d be getting his mother''s ''present,'' and considering who his mother was, it could either be an amazing gift or something that would make him question his existence.

    He arrived at the double doors to the training hall, ornate with golden patterns and looking way too fancy for a place where people regularly broke things. The knights standing guard bowed, opening the doors with their typical, "We-serve-the-empire" flair.

    Inside, the place was huge, with quartz pillars and an interior design that screamed "we''re rich, but we also like chandeliers." The wallpaper was gorgeous¡ª dark wood and elegant patterns meeting somewhere between "grand" and "why is this even necessary?"

    Melina was there, giving him a warm smile. Judge knew she''d lost her father a few days ago, but if she was upset, she hid it behind a casual demeanor that could''ve fooled anyone. Not Judge, though. He knew her well enough to recognize the "I''m fine because my father was a jerk" attitude. Still, a smile was better than the alternative.

    Across the room, his mother, Eleyn, was lounging in a chair, engrossed in a book titled A Guide to Training Your Child in a Volcano.

    Judge snorted. Of course, that was her current reading material. She didn''t even bat an eyelid as she caught his eye. "Oh, hey, Judge." Then she glanced at Melina. "What? Is there something on my face?"

    Melina just blinked. Judge wisely stayed silent.

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    "Oh! Right!" Eleyn said suddenly, as though remembering why they were all here. She reached into her bag, producing a long, polished wooden box with a gold-lined crevice. "Your new weapon." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge eyed the box suspiciously. There was something about the way she said "weapon" that made his stomach shift uncomfortably.

    He reached out, opened it slowly, and there it was¡ª a long dagger, perfectly balanced, resting on a dark cushion. Its handle was plain, but there were two jewels embedded in the weapon: one dark green, the other a fiery red.

    Two catalysts? Either this dagger was ridiculously sturdy enough to withstand that much ether, or it came with a really confusing instruction manual.

    Eleyn tapped the red gem, and a faint rune glowed within it. "This one has a spirit inside. It''ll guide the blade¡ª just a little. But¡­"

    Oh no, here it comes. Judge braced himself.

    "¡­You''ll need to tame the spirit after each use, or, you know, it''ll go berserk and kill you. But I''m sure that won''t be an issue, right?"

    Judge blinked. Motherly love at its finest.

    But the gifts weren''t over. His mother pulled out another box¡ª this one blood-red, with a golden lock. "This is for your magic. The dagger''s just for emergencies. This¡ª" she cut his hand with a flick of her finger and let the blood drip onto the lock, "¡ªis the real deal."

    The box squirmed like it was alive, the colors shifting from dark red to golden hues in a disturbing dance of shades. Judge watched it with unease, healing his cut hand in the process. Why does everything in this family have a dramatic flair?

    "Open it," his mother urged, handing him the box. Melina was smiling from the side¡ª a smile that definitely said, Good luck with that.

    Judge sighed. This is not going to be easy.

 Chapter 75 Murderous weapon, classical motherly love

    Judge stared at the gold-and-crimson box his mother held out like a prize, both hands holding it as if it were the crown jewels. He knew the drill¡ª he''d seen the same box in Amber''s and Liam''s hands, though theirs were different colors.Amber''s was peach with gold (a combo he tried not to gag at), and Liam''s was a vibrant orange with the same ever-present gold.

    Now, his box had crimson mixed in, because clearly, his mother had a bit of a thing for gold. The woman couldn''t resist the stuff¡ª her room looked like she decorated her room after her trip to a black Friday sale at a pawn shop and bought the store, and the surrounding hallways were no better.

    His gaze flickered from the box to his mother''s ashen white eyes, then to Melina''s equally intense gaze, and back to the box. With a sigh of resignation, he mentally commanded it to open.

    Crimson swirled with gold, twisting across the surface like a fancy dessert, as the lock gave a slow, dramatic creak, revealing its contents. The gap widened, and inside was an extremely dark wand resting on an only slightly lighter cushion, both exuding an aura of "I''m definitely cursed."

    Judge feigned enthusiasm, his forced excitement looking pretty natural¡ª he''d had years of practice. With a flick of his will, the wand floated out of the box and zipped toward him like an eager puppy.

    He caught it with practiced ease, and as soon as his fingers closed around it, he felt a chill so cold it could''ve rivaled winter''s breath. The wand had no traditional handle, just a small jewel attached where one should''ve been, swirling in dark purples and blacks like a bad omen.

    He lifted it, noting the lightning-like bend in the wand''s shape. Checking the purple jewel for ether reserves, he found just enough ether to power a desk fan¡ª barely.

    But something was off, and it wasn''t just the color scheme. His mother and Melina both had expressions of barely contained glee, like they knew a secret he was about to stumble upon. He had known both since birth, and he knew both of them never up to anything good with a smile like that.

    Sure, the jewel was a catalyst, but it was too tiny for something his mother had crafted. He hadn''t seen Amber or Liam''s wands, but this thing felt more like a toy than a weapon. Yet, despite its size, he could sense the jewel could hold a surprising amount of ether. Then it hit him¡ª the wand itself was a catalyst.

    Now that was unexpected. Judge''s surprise was genuine this time, no need to fake it. He barely managed to hold together his neutral facial expressions.

    Catalysts, no matter their form, always had a crystal texture to them. But this? It was wood, top to bottom. How in the Etherverse could this be a catalyst?

    "Surprised?" His mother''s eyes sparkled with the excitement of a master crafter waiting for praise. She was never the one to look for praise, but it was different when it was her child who was praising her.

    "Yep," Judge nodded, turning to hug her tightly, because what else do you do when your mom gifts you a potential murder weapon disguised as a wand? "Thanks, Mom! Really."

    He had to show some appreciation; after all, this was more artifact than a mere wand. Rechargeable catalysts weren''t cheap¡ª anywhere from ten stens to five hundred, depending on the quality of ether conductivity and holding capacity.

    But those numbers were peanuts compared to the dragon-made ones, which his mother specialized in. And this one? It had her signature all over it. The purple jewel might''ve been small, but with the runes his mother had etched into it, it was packing far more power than met the eye.

    Then there was the wand itself. He couldn''t even sense a limit to its ether capacity. He knew it wasn''t infinite, but it was massive, and creating something like this from scratch took talent¡ª and maybe a little madness. Making a whole wand out of a catalyst was a risky business; one slip, and the wielder could end up as a pile of ash.

    Testing it out, Judge aimed the wand at a candle on the desk. "Ignite," he muttered, expecting a simple flame. After all, "Ignite" was about as harmless as spells got.

    But the wand, apparently feeling overzealous, channeled ether like it was born for drama. What was supposed to be a tiny flame turned into a table-consuming inferno. The entire desk went up like a bonfire, shocking everyone except his mother, Melina, and Judge himself.

    A familiar gasp interrupted his moment of disbelief. "Wait¡ª who''s there?" He turned to see Amber standing in the doorway, she was looking very confused and amused.

    Judge sighed. "This is a classroom, Amber." Great, just what he needed¡ª his sister barging in. She was probably here to say her farewells before she left.

    ''Wonderful timing,'' he thought sarcastically. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Amber was supposed to have left for Wyvern''s Land weeks ago¡ª a grand town named Trodh where dragons prepped before entering the academy. Population: eight hundred thousand. Wyverns in attendance? Zero. Turns out, wyverns didn''t exist. They were just dragons incognito.

    Amber had delayed her departure till after Judge''s birthday¡ª a party even their father skipped with the classic excuse, "Very busy." Judge knew what that meant. His father was avoiding people, it was not social anxiety, but carelessness, and their grandfather had nearly gone full draconic fury over it.

    Amber bounded over and gave Judge a big, heartfelt hug. He, of course, stood there like a statue, waiting for it to end. Once free, he gave her a lazy thumbs-up. "Good luck out there."

    "That didn''t sound like someone wishing me luck... And what''s that smell¡ª oh, the table''s on fire."

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    Judge had forgotten about that. His mother and Melina hadn''t lifted a finger to stop the blaze because clearly, he was supposed to clean up his own mess.

    He sighed, raised his brand-new wand, and this time channeled his ether with the kind of restraint normally reserved for delicate negotiations.

 Chapter 76 Judges oversight: never again

    "Surge forth!" Rey yelled, sounding like someone who''d spent way too many hours binge watching magical dramas, all while not having any free time.Honestly, if he threw in a "wingardium leviosa," no one would''ve been surprised. His wand flared up, glowing a determined shade of blue, as if it were auditioning for a role in some grand magical production.

    But this glow wasn''t content with just looking pretty; it had dreams. Big ones. The particles it summoned whirled around, gathering into a dense ball of water, and then it launched itself like a cannonball with a vendetta.

    The water was launched at the fire that was burning passionately, but he did not notice the fact that the table was not being burnt, and the fire was also not growing or spreading.

    The projectile hit the table, but he made the water too dense. The table was knocked away with the fire still clinging on it like a paint stain that won''t go away how much you wash.

    Then the fire, in an act of pure spite, decided to relocate to the curtains.

    Judge''s mental alarm bells went off¡ª louder than when Amber accidentally summoned a thunderstorm indoors. He scrambled, trying to cast something smooth and controlled, something that screamed, "I got this." Hand raised, spell ready, he was about to fix it all with style.

    But then the fire just... fizzled out, as if realizing it wasn''t even supposed to be there. And it hit him: Right... dragon house. things aren''t flammable. Duh.

    Across the room, his mother Eleyn and Melina watched the entire disaster unfold with the enthusiasm of someone watching a street magician fail to pull a rabbit out of a hat. This was definitely not Judge''s finest hour.

    Normally, he was calm, collected¡ª the one who could assess a situation before it spiraled into chaos. But now? He stood in the middle of a self-made mess, throwing spells at a fire that was never a threat.

    Dragon Logic 101: dragons breathe fire, and their houses are fireproof. Basic. Even a non-dragon toddler would''ve known better. They made anything wood-related from a tree resistant to fire, or just enchanted things with fire resistance.

    Lowering his wand with all the grace of a defeated wizard, Judge let the silence hang in the air like a bad joke. Melina''s lips twitched, trying (and failing) to hold back laughter. His mother, meanwhile, gave him that universal mom look¡ª the one that says, You tried your best, sweetie.

    Amber, however, was not so restrained. "Judge¡­ you didn''t," she wheezed, practically doubled over in laughter. "Tell me you didn''t just try to put out a fire. In this house. Our house!" She was laughing so hard, she was on the the floor, clutching her stomache.

    Laughter, it turns out, is highly contagious. The moment Amber started, Melina gave in, followed swiftly by Eleyn. Judge could feel the knights outside the room probably wondering what on earth could be so funny.

    "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh it up," Judge sighed, rolling his eyes like someone who never even cared to begin with. "Very ladylike."

    "J-Judge," Melina gasped, wiping away tears and giving his shoulder a pat, barely able to contain herself. "You''ve got so much to learn."

    She turned away, still snickering like someone who''d just watched their first looney tunes episode, Judge imagined her muttering between laughs.

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    Once the laughter finally died down, his mother and sister said their goodbyes, leaving Judge alone with Melina. The door clicked shut, and just like that, her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by the sternness of a battle-hardened tutor.

    "Alright, young master Judge" she grunted, cracking her knuckles like they were about to throw down in a shady tavern. "Time for your lesson."

    Judge groaned inwardly. "What a drag," he muttered under his breath, channeling the spirit of a certain spiky-haired anime character. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Melina didn''t care. She was already knee-deep in her itch to start spell instruction, her tone sharp and impatient.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Later that day, the Recorders assembled. Everyone donned their masks, though it felt more like a formality. They all knew each other''s faces by now. Judge, however, remained a mystery. As the Observer, he never revealed his true identity. Why spoil the mystique?

    The air was thick with tension, the kind that made silence feel like a ticking bomb. No one dared speak without the Observer''s signal, and Judge''s mere presence ensured it stayed that way.

    "Show me," he finally commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. "Show me the moments you''ve captured for our god."

    A shiver ran through the group. Each Recorder had their own reason for joining this secretive order. Lucifer, for one, wasn''t interested in petty promises of power¡ª he''d seen enough fools destroyed by their own ambition.

    Yet here he was, intrigued by the Observer and the mysterious god they claimed to serve. The idea of power was tempting, but serving a god? Now that was something worth sticking around for.

    Asmodeus and Gabriel had both been personally recruited by Judge. He knew exactly how to play rivals against each other, offering them the same prize: power in exchange for loyalty. Lucifer''s resistance to the bait only made him more compelling.

    The Recorders began transferring their stories to Judge, who activated his Enhanced Cognition like Sherlock Holmes tapping into his mind palace. He breezed through the tales as if binge-watching a series at multiple times the speed.

    First: a young boy''s misadventure in the woods. What started as a simple trip to gather firewood ended with him lost, stumbling down a cliff, and nearly becoming a monster''s snack. A mercenary group saved him just in time, turning a grim fairy tale into a near-miss.

    Next: an elderly woman''s tragic tale of losing her only son, left alone to wither away in solitude. It hit Judge harder than he expected, the woman''s slow march toward giving up on life tugging at something deep within him.

    And then, the banquet of dragons. Renald, the spoiled nobleman, had been acting suspiciously, but Judge couldn''t quite pin down why. Was it all an act? Something about Renald reeked of conspiracy.

    "Asmodeus," Judge ordered, "keep an eye on the first prince Renald. This is your top priority, I will only observe, not record."

    Asmodeus nodded. "As you wish, Observer."

 Chapter 77 Dragons Daily, the story book

    Judge moved on to the next story like a chief editor at a newspaper¡ª except his ''news'' was far more dangerous and less likely to involve petty gossip about who''s wearing what to the ball.Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire

    The Dragons Daily demanded a certain standard, and Judge wasn''t about to let it slip. He mentally noted how many crimes involved explosions these days¡ª probably some kind of trend.

    His enhanced cognition zipped through the details like a hyperactive squirrel on too much caffeine. Otherwise, he''d be stuck sifting through this mess all day. He could only give Clio the best, and he definitely cannot mess up.

    People lived their lives, some basking in happiness, others drowning in sorrow, but Judge didn''t have time to read every sad love letter or grocery list. He skimmed over them like a bored student flipping through an encyclopedia. That is, until something truly popped up.

    "Oh, classic murder scene," he muttered. He''d seen so many, he could probably open a murder museum. This one, though, stood out¡ª not just because someone''s head exploded like a forgotten soup pot on a high flame, but because of the setting.

    Two beast-race farmers were diligently working on their patch of land, bless their simple hearts. One had a pair of pointy, fluffy ears on his head, while the other had long white fur that covered his body like he was auditioning to be the next shag carpet model.

    Judge squinted¡ª ah, the fur was only thick on the back. His face, on the other hand, looked like a teenager desperately trying to grow a beard but not even managing a few stray wisps. A valiant effort, really. He could make millions and get off that farmer''s life if he had gone for K-pop instead.

    The village was tucked away in some countryside that even the travelers had probably forgotten about. Trees nearby were cleared for proper sunlight, and the whole scene screamed, "We''re just trying to live our quiet lives¡ª please don''t explode us!" But alas, one of them was about to learn just how inconvenient divine powers could be.

    Judge hit replay on the scene, furrowing his brow. ''Derek,'' the guy with the white fur, had his head unceremoniously turned into a confetti explosion, followed quickly by his body. "Well, that''s a bit excessive, even for a murder in the middle of nowhere."

    The killer, whoever it was, had clearly flexed some serious divine muscle. And divine powers didn''t just come from nowhere. They were gifts from gods, like those fancy presents at a party that only one person gets and everyone else pretends they didn''t want.

    The question was: why would someone use divine power on a beast-race farmer in Nowhere Village?

    Judge scratched his chin. The power that was used belonged to Tenebris, a god known for night and false realities¡ª basically, the kind of guy who''d make sure you lose your car keys, even if you don''t own a car.

    The church of The god of night was established in the village long ago, along with the church of Umbra, the Goddess of Shadows and Obscurity. Judge shook his head. "Never trust a church with a name like that."

    However, despite the name, the church was extremely popular, mostly among youngsters who were a bit too much delusional. Not to say that old people were not on the list, but youngsters were more.

    People usually never change their faith, unless they are forced. The reason why there was a low rate of old people in the church was because of the high death rates of the followers¡ª they were not sacrificed, but they did in one of their bizarre monster fights.

    The church of Umbra which had been once set up in this remote village, was demolished for ''mysterious'' reasons, leaving Tenebris'' believers to continue their midnight rituals in peace.

    Not that Judge was pointing fingers, but he''d seen enough shady divine interventions to smell one a mile away. Plus, the ether involved in this particular crime had a distinct flavor¡ª like someone spiked his usual ether vanilla with a very specific brand of mischief.

    Ether was like ice cream, in Judge''s mind. Everyone and everything had their own flavor, and he''d become quite the connoisseur. Most people''s ether was indistinguishable, but this ether had a unique twist. "Ah, yes," Judge murmured in his mind.

    "This ether feels familiar." It was the same ether his supposed father had used back when he''d tricked the dragons into something that Judge didn''t bother to remember in full detail.

    He never did figure out how no one else noticed the ether manipulation. He suspected it had something to do with the principle being so subtle that it flew under everyone''s radar¡ª like a particularly sneaky ice cream thief.

    Two tasks suddenly weighed on Judge''s mind: one was a bit too easy for him, and the other¡ª well, it was personal. He decided to hand off the easy one because multitasking was for people with less flair.

    "Gabriel!" he called out, waiting for the inevitable squeak. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Sure enough, a startled squeak followed. "Y-Yess! Master Observer."

    "I need you to gather everything you can find on the church of Tenebris," Judge said, barely containing his amusement. He knew Gabriel had never heard of it.

    "Tenebris?" He blinked at him, confused. Most people had never heard of the god of night and false realities, and for good reason. It wasn''t exactly on the church brochure. The knowledge was reserved for high-ranking officials, the kind of people who took themselves way too seriously and probably had titles like ''Most Blessed Keeper of the Mystical Night Parchments.''

    "Indeed," Judge said with a dramatic pause, loving the tension. "The church of the god of night... and false realities."

    Gabriel blinked again, but this time with determination. He wouldn''t let his confusion show anymore. "Your wish is my command... Master."

    Judge''s inner critic gave himself a pat on the back. "Ten out of ten," he thought. "That played out even better than expected." Mentally, he had scripted the whole exchange, and Gabriel had nailed his lines. With that out of the way, he turned to his next co-star: Lucifer.

    "Lucifer," Judge said, almost humming with excitement for what was to come. His tone remained calm¡ª after all, he was a professional. "Follow me. I''ve found a new vassal to serve our lord."

    Lucifer bowed. "As you wish, Observer," he replied without complaint, though Judge could see the faintest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. Good¡ª curiosity kept Lucifer obedient. For now.

    Asmodeus flashed her purple card towards Gabriel just before teleporting, Gabriel frowned and cursed her before he left, leaving the stage to Judge and Lucifer. With a flourish that would make any magician jealous, Judge teleported them to his next prey.

 Chapter 78 A Very Misguided Monday

    Finn was lying inside his room when he came to, watching the wooden ceiling. He looked around, confused. "Wasn''t I working on the farmland?" He removed the old blanket and got up from the bed. "When did I sleep, did I finish the ploughing?"He looked out through the window and gazed at the quiet road. It used to be a bustling place every morning and evening, but why was it so quiet?

    Utterly confused and distraught, he pushed his bedroom door open to reach the dining area. The entire wooden house was eerily quiet. He wasn''t the type to believe in daylight ghosts, but now... well, things felt different.

    "Teresa?" he called out to his cousin, who lived with him and his sickly mother since her parents had long passed. "Mom?"

    His voice echoed, and with each step he took, the heavy weight of uncertainty pressed down on him. What had happened before he went to sleep? As he tried to recall, a chill ran down his spine, the answer just out of reach, teasing him like a forgotten nightmare.

    Judge and Lucifer watched Finn as he slowly clutched his temporal area with both his hands, he was walking around like a drunkard with a hangover that got too intense.

    Finn screamed as he flailed his head around, only stopping after hitting his head on the cupboard. Judge held back a laugh, this was too funny to watch.

    Lucifer looked at the scene nonchalantly, he was dismayed at the kind of person the Observer had chosen to serve a god.

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    This farmboy had nothing to his name, Asmodeus and Gabriel were both strong when they were taken in to serve their master. But he did not want to doubt Observers intuitions, after all¡ª he could see something Lucifer cannot.

    He watched as Finn fell to the floor, he knew his name because it was him who recorded the scene of his dear friend''s explosive send off.

    Finn lay on the floor, motionless. He was exhausted mentally, but he was not unconscious. Both of them waited patiently for Finn to make a move, watching some guy lay on the floor was not something Lucifer would call an entertaining time pass, yet here he was.

    Finn twitched internally, he felt like he was having a stroke¡ª and he never had one before. His mind was now completely blank, he could not think of anything... no, he was afraid to think of anything.

    He had lost his friend, he did not know where his mother and cousin went, and the village road that had people sleeping on it even at midnight, was now completely desolate.

    He decided to drink some beer to refresh his mind it was definitely not working properly, he could not even utter tears. Going to the kitchen, he took a small bottle of amber liquid from underneath a plank that was on a corner.

    He took a mug from inside the rack and went back to the dining area to have a drink. He sat down and uncorked the bottle, it had been a few days since he had hid it. "Tastes like iron." He complained as he took his first sip.

    After drinking a whole glass, he just sat there, covering his face with both his hands. Slowly, the beer started to affect his mind. His head began to shake as he started to shed tears, he could still not believe it, maybe it was all a dream, or he was still dreaming.

    But deep inside, he knew that it was all real, he had lost his brother from another mother. He clutched his hair in agony, and a slight thought of suicide crossed his mind... No, he still had his mother and cousin to take care of.

    The thought of an empty house and the desolate street did not matter to him anymore, he thought of how his friend had died, pulling his ears. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Derek had suddenly exploded, first the head, then the body. His whole view turned red and he slammed the table loudly. He poured himself another drink, the taste was very pale, yet he still drank it to relieve himself.

    The second glass turned his thoughts again in a different direction¡ª who had killed Derek? He was a man without any training in ether, so he obviously did not know. But the thirst for revenge was evident on his face.

    ...

    Judge was looking eagerly at Finn, but his posture was unchanging and let out none of his emotions. He waited patiently as he watched the changing emotions on Finn''s face.

    He wanted to head in after Finn had his first mug of beer, but decided to wait a bit more. And he was finally rewarded for his patience.

    "It is time," Judge said to Lucifer as he watched the changing facial expressions of Finn, it went from confusion, to distress, and finally to anger. He grinned as he saw that.

    Judge did not remove his mask, it played a key role in his identity as the Observer. But he deactivated his recording state and materialized behind Finn, silently and waiting for his moment to speak. Lucifer did not materialize, he had Judge''s orders, ''Do not leave the observer state unless I order you to''.

    ...

    Finn poured himself another mug of beer, his hands trembling slightly as the glass bottle clinked against the metal rim. His mind swirled with grief, anger, and confusion, and the alcohol only dulled the edges of it, doing nothing to ease the gnawing ache in his chest.

    He downed the drink in a few gulps, his face contorting with bitterness.

    "Why did this happen?" he muttered to no one, staring blankly at the table before him. His thoughts lingered on Derek, his head that had exploded in front of him in a gruesome, horrifying spectacle. "Who did this?"

    His voice cracked, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of his shallow breaths. He slammed his fist onto the table again, the wooden surface creaking under the force. "I swear... I''ll make them pay."

    At that moment, Finn''s eyes flickered with something new¡ª resolve. But just as the fire of vengeance began to ignite, a voice, cold and deliberate, broke through the daze.

    "Revenge is a powerful motivator," the deep voice whispered from behind him, sending a chill racing down Finn''s spine.

 Chapter 79 Not Your Average Job Interview

    "Who''s there?" Finn instantly turned around and threw his mug at Judge, who did not even try to dodge the incoming projectile as it whistled past his ears."Me?" Judge stepped forward, his white mask catching the sunlight. "I am god''s observer!"

    He let those words sink in, but not for long because the thoughts could go in directions he did not need. "Finn, son of Donel¡ª I ask you," He sounded like he was auditioning for a grand drama. "Do you seek revenge?"

    Of course, Finn won''t say yes to it¡ª unless he was stupid. If he was the type of person so clouded by revenge and said yes to a mysterious masked man on their first meeting, then he was not cut out to be an underling of Judge.

    "What of it?" Finn was on the defense, he was not a warrior but he had his fair share of dangers. "If you think I will work under you for revenge, I will not."

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    Judge tilted his head just a fraction; the chuckle was low and soft behind that eerie, ever-smiling mask. "Ah, not so quick to bite at the chance for vengeance. Good. I wouldn''t have expected anything less from you, Finn." His hands folded behind his back as he set out at a leisurely pace, his every step calculated like that of an actor in a play he had already choreographed in his mind.

    The mug Finn had thrown clattered uselessly against the floor as it suddenly got distorted and disappeared before appearing on the table once again, but Judge didn''t even glance at it.

    His gaze stayed riveted on Finn, examining him with a predator sizing up its prey. "You''ve misunderstood me," he said, his voice cool and measured. "I''m not here to dangle something as simple as revenge in front of you. No, that would be far too... crude."

    Judge paused, his movement halted, as his voice dearly softened and became almost conversational.

    "What I''m offering you is far more valuable. I offer knowledge. Power. A deeper understanding of the forces that took your friend from you. You don''t have to work for me, Finn. But wouldn''t you like to see the truth with your own eyes?

    To peel back the surface of this world and see what really lies beneath?"

    Finn''s fists were clenched, his whole body tense as he stared at the masked figure. "And what''s in it for you?" he asked in a low, cutting voice. "Nobody just gives away something like that for nothing."

    The Judge''s mask tilted upward a bit, catching the light just enough to give the impression of a smile that was far too wide, far too knowing. "Ah, sharp as ever. You''re right, nothing is free. But what I want from you is far more... intriguing than simple loyalty or servitude. What I want is your curiosity."

    Finn blinked, clearly taken aback. "Curiosity?"

    "Yes." The Judge''s voice dropped almost to a whisper, as if he were letting Finn in on some grand secret. "I want you to seek the answers. Not for me, but for yourself. You want to protect your family, to learn what really happened to your friend. That hunger for knowledge, Finn, will be your guide.

    "And I... I will only guide you along that path. You won''t be some sort of blind follower. You shall become something more: a Recorder, the chronicler of things that show the deeper truth which even gods conceal."

    Finn''s jaw clenched. Something inside him screamed that this was wrong, that he really shouldn''t be trusting this man, yet the way Judge spoke... it was hard to ignore. The promise of truth, of finding out what really happened to Derek, gnawed at him.

    "And if I say no?" There was a slight shaking, though Finn''s voice was firm, the doubt still lingered.

    Judge chuckled low, almost fondly, as if Finn''s resistance had been amusing. "If you refuse? Then you leave here and life goes on as it was. You return to your quiet, empty house, and perhaps¡ª though I doubt it¡ª you''ll stumble upon the truth on your own. But Finn," Judge said, bending closer, "if you walk away now, you will always wonder... what if?"

    The air felt heavy and thick, as if the room was closing in on Finn¡ª just this one choice hung before him. The overwhelming and engaging presence of the Judge somehow was oppressively comforting in its own right because of its certainty.

    "I don''t want to be your pawn," Finn said with voice barely audible, totally at war with himself. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge''s response was immediate. "I''m not asking you to be a pawn. I''m offering you the pen." He gestured broadly to the space around them, his arms wide open. "This world? This village? It''s nothing compared to the truth that''s out there.

    You have no idea how deep this reality goes, Finn. I''m merely the observer. But you... you could be so much more."

    The silence stretched between them; Finn''s heart was pounding in his chest with anticipation. Had he so much as remembered, the mug on the concrete floor, it lay there, its shards scattered at his feet¡ª a sharp contrast to the monumental decision hanging in the air.

    Judge straightened, his voice ringing, as it often did, in that theatrical tone. "So, Finn, son of Donel... what will it be? Will you return to your humble life, or take the first step up unto greatness? Think hard, for the consequences of your choice, whether you accept or reject, it would reverberate through the pages of destiny itself."

    Finn just stared at him, trying to see past that mask, to read the man behind it. Everything about this whole moment felt surreal, time itself paused, waiting for him to make a decision.

    He didn''t trust this man, couldn''t trust him¡ª but it was impossible to resist the pull of the unknown, the promise of answers. "I want the truth," Finn said finally, his voice steady despite the hurricane of skepticism raging inside. "But I don''t work for anyone."

    The mask canted, ever so slightly, and though Finn could not see the face beneath, he could almost feel the satisfaction in Judge''s silence. "Very well," Judge replied smoothly. "You seek the truth, and the truth shall find you."

    Judge held out his hand, and a mask materialized in front of him, it was similar to the masks that the other recorders wore. "Now choose; Will you serve god, or... will you reject god."

 Chapter 80 Not Your Average Job Interview [2]

    "Now choose; Will you serve god, or... will you reject god."Finn''s mind raced. The choice¡ª whether to serve god, to reject god reverberated like a resounding gong, it ran through his mind like a chilly ice bath. He had three choices to that statement, but he was in a quandary¡ª out of the three, the choice he wanted to make was to accept.

    But he still had his mother and sister to look after, going after revenge while still having a family to look after was not the best choice he could make. So the most plausible option was¡ª

    ''To ask for more time'', Judge thought, Judge had seen it before¡ª the hesitation of a man torn between duty and desire, loyalty to family, and thirst for revenge.

    Finn had three choices. The first was to reject, while it was an option, he would never take it.

    The second was accepting, while being the most probable, it was unlikely that he would take it, considering the fact that he had people to look after.

    So, the most viable option was for him to ask for more time. But just accepting would ruin the image of him as the great observer, and he still needed the guy with a strong sense of revenge against the church of the god night.

    Finn clenched his fists, Derek''s blood-soaked image crept into his thoughts, his friend''s body destroyed into pieces that were too grotesque to be real. Rage simmered beneath Finn''s skin, pushing aside reason for just a moment. They killed him.

    But then, he could hear his mother''s soft cough in the back of his mind, a reminder of his responsibilities. Teresa''s laugh echoed faintly, a harsh contrast to the stillness of the house. Could he truly leave them behind? The need to protect them gnawed at him.

    "I... I need more time." He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, not quite ready to commit. He had to find a way to ensure his family would be safe before he could even consider serving some masked stranger claiming to be a god''s observer.

    There it is, Judge thought with a smirk beneath his mask. Exactly as expected. Judge could have told him that serving god would not affect his family life, but he had another motive behind his actions.

    While Finn could become a good weapon to be used against the church of Night, his family could get in between his decisions. So Judge had to get rid of all the obstacles, and turn Finn into a proper weapon.

    Judge spoke after a deliberate pause, "Very well, I shall respect your choices." He walked forward, still holding the mask forward. "Keep the mask." He watched as Finn took the mask from his hand. Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    ''Perfect, now for the final push.'' Judge smirked behind his mask.

    "The church of the god of night," Judge muttered, his voice was low but very audible. The weight of his words hung in the air.

    "What?!" there came the surprised voice of Finn.

    "They are the ones behind your friend''s death," He said, tipping his dark hat that he quickly conjured up. "There will come a time when you need power... I will take my leave then."

    Judge vanished into the darkness as Finn watched him in awe, confused. Suddenly, the entire world around him shifted, he felt dizzy, and before he could register what was happening, he woke up in his bed.

    Suddenly, he heard a surprised voice. "Finn!" It was his cousin, Teresa, she was sitting beside his bed, cutting some fruits.

    "Teresa? Wasn''t I just ahh..." Finn clutched his head, it was hearing really badly.

    "Take it easy Finn, you''ve been out for three days." She put away the tray on her lap to the small table nearby. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Three days?" Finn was confused, but before he could get answers, he heard his mother''s call from across the house. "Teresa, please come here for a second."

    "Stay here Finn, you should not move around. I will be right back." She left after saying that.

    He looked at his cousin who just hurried off with a thoughtful face, what would happen to them if he had gone? The thought dawned on him, he needed revenge, but he could not tie his life to it. He still had to look after his family, Teresa and his mother could not live without his support.

    With a determined thought, he removed his blankets and got off of his bed. He did not know why he was back there, it might be that the observer of god played a trick on his mind to visit him in his sleep, he somehow felt relieved that he had not finished the beer he had saved for later.

    Scanning the whole wooden room, his gaze fell upon a rather fancy wooden box that was tucked away in the distant corner. It was not too fancy, but it definitely did not belong in the place.

    It was a deep reddish brown wooden box, it had metal edges that were painted white. The corners and the lock were both made of copper. The chest would sell for a good price if they were having a hard time, yet it was the only thing that was not poor inside his room.

    He kneeled near the box and slowly unlocked it, as if it was a treasure he sought after and he finally got it after countless trials.

    There was nothing but a sleek sword inside the box, it was long and white, without much design. There was a pink catalyst on the end of the handle, it lit up in a bright red color as he touched it.

    Catalysts were extremely rare when it came to small villages like this, and they were absolutely not something someone poor like Finn could afford. The sword was his mother''s, he took the sword out of the box and ran his hand on the surface of the white scabbard.

    An old scene played in his mind, a time when his parents worked as mercenaries, a time when he was taught how to wield a sword. His mother and father used to fight over whether he would learn a sleek sword or a broad sword.

 Chapter 81 When Happiness Took a Day Offâ€”And Never Came Back

    Derina, Finn''s mother, was an exceptional mercenary. She was not the strongest by any means, but she was not weak either. She was known as a Saintess during her time as a mercenary due to her extremely good healing capabilities.His father, on the other hand, was a brute who had muscles for brains, he was one of the top brass in the town. He was so cold and ruthless that people began to call him the blood-soaked warrior. The couple, though only comrades at that time, were in a mercenary group of four.

    Through countless life or death battles, the group had unquestioning trust for each other. The brute known as the blood-soaked warrior slowly fell in love with the saintess in their party.

    Their love followed a marriage and a happy time for the party, they decided to not take any commissions for a while and just enjoy their life. That decision was taken by the captain of their group, who was Finn''s father.

    The party was disbanded, with the members either going on their travels, or living a quiet life in the countryside. One year passed and Derina gave birth to Finn, the whole group was called together again to celebrate the occasion.

    The following time was the happiest for the couple, they also moved to a countryside village to live a quiet life. After two entire years, after Finn turned one, his father decided to move to the city again for his education.

    Derina and her husband never wanted their child to be an uneducated mercenary like them, but they still decided to teach him swordsmanship in order to better survive when met with a challenge.

    They rounded up their savings and got a pretty big house in the city, and not knowing any other jobs, his father decided to take on commissions again. He sent letters to his former teammates who were now married if they could come, and the new couples happily obliged to go on another adventure.

    Time passed as Finn grew up with Derek, the son of the other couples from the party. Both their parents would go on commissions that sometimes would even last a whole week. But each day was a happy one for them, all they needed was each other.

    One day, Finn''s mother decided to stay behind to teach the young ones how to wield a sword. Finn had heard his mother and father arguing about who would teach them swordsmanship.

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    But the argument did not last long as the man who fell deeply in love could not say no to his woman. Derina won the exchange of words and decided to teach them how to wield longswords.

    The lessons continued for a long time, but they always got repeated warnings on why they should not become muscle-headed mercenaries like them and live a better life. Finn and Derek, both did not give much thought to it and just agreed, but they never had any plans to be mercenaries.

    Limdon was a town that was harsh to people looking for a job, so many opted to be a mercenary because of the easy entrance criteria. Because of the availability of a variety of people in the mercenary guild, it was extremely popular.

    But as people who had education were less, there would always be demand for them in other areas of work that did not require one to endanger their life. While Finn and Derek were too young to know this, their parents definitely were aiming for their kids to work in a safer environment.

    But as a wise man once said, "Nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world". (The line is by Madara from Naruto, and if you haven''t watched it yet... Why?) And that was always the reality for those who hope without a plan.

    On a faithful day, both their parents headed to work for a short flux zone exploration. Flux zones were dangerous places where the ether swirls around with wild fury, it was a place where you become unable to use ether.

    That would make the venture difficult, thankfully, there were no monsters inside other than the ones without any ether, but they were physically strong. There was only one reason why people still headed into the place despite the difficult situation. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Any strong artifact requires a base that contains a huge load of ether, and the one thing that causes flux zones to appear, the flux core, would contain a beastly amount of ether inside it. Nobles and wealthy individuals would pay a hefty sum to mercenaries just to get their hands on one.

    This was such a mission, just a big commission to head inside a flux zone and get the flux core. The zone was around for a couple of decades, but it was only discovered recently. The wyvern noble house called Drakonis, who never commissioned the mercenaries was the one who gave the mission.

    It was rare for them to give missions because their knights were all extremely talented. But it was a time when some cultists were at war with them, they said that it was dangerous and they did not have enough manpower to spare.

    Finn and Derek had insisted that they go with them, but as protective parents, they refused. The headed into the flux zone with an dozen more or so parties¡ª but it was more dangerous than they expected.

    Turns out, when dragons say ''dangerous'', it is pretty dangerous.

    Weeks had passed without a word from Finn and Derek''s parents. The memory of that night remained sharp in Finn''s mind, haunting him even as time blurred the edges of everything else. It was the night when his world unraveled.

    Derina, Finn''s mother, had returned alone. The once-proud mercenary, known for her healing skills and resilience, wobbled into view just before sunset. Her cloak, once spotless, was stained with blood and dirt, her body barely upright as she made her way toward the house. In her arms, she carried a bundle, tightly wrapped in a cloth, that shifted with each of her uneven steps.

    Finn could still remember the cold weight in his chest when he realized what was happening. Derina collapsed just as she reached the front of the house. He had run to her then, his hands trembling as he reached for her. She had tried to speak but her voice had been faint, barely above a whisper.

    He didn''t need to hear the words. The cloth had fallen away, revealing the battered and lifeless form of his father. The blood-soaked warrior, the man who had seemed unbeatable, now lay cold and motionless in his mother''s arms.

    Finn''s breath had caught in his throat as he stared at the corpse, his mind refusing to accept the sight before him. His father''s face, pale and hollow, was the only thing he could focus on. His mother had tried, she had fought her way back, but the weight of their failure had been written across her face. She had come back alive, but his father hadn''t. And neither had Derek''s parents.

    Derina had whispered something about the flux core, about how they had not found it even at a terrible cost. The place had been far more dangerous than anyone could have imagined. The creatures they encountered weren''t like anything they had ever faced. And despite their experience, despite their strength, it hadn''t been enough.

    And while he was focusing on his father, and Derek''s eye wandering off without focusing anywhere¡ª his mother collapsed.

 Chapter 82 Judge vs. Mom: The Battle He Can Never Win

    Judge stood next to Lucifer, both watching Finn from behind, clearly uninterested in what was happening. Finn was merely sitting there, lazily running his hand over the white sheath of his mother''s sword like it was the most exciting thing in the world.Babysitting Finn was like watching paint dry, except the paint at least had the decency to eventually dry. "Ah, yes. Nothing says ''I''m pondering the universe'' like stroking a sword sheath for an hour. Truly, Finn was a master of deep thought¡ª or maybe just deeply bored." Judge ridiculed him internally

    "You look after him," Judge said with an indifferent wave of his hand as if delegating the task of babysitting an adult. And Judge was clearly not cut out for babysitting, if he did, he knew the baby was never gonna go back to their parents, since there wouldn''t be any ''babies'' left, he was that bad.

    "As you wish, Observer," Lucifer replied, his tone drenched in reluctance. Normally, he''d have Straight up rejected the absurdly boring task, but Judge''s scriptwriter ability left no room for sass this time.

    In a flash, Judge teleported back to his Studio and swapped out the scenery. Gone was Finn''s cozy little house, replaced by the grandiose throne room¡ª complete with a long marble table that looked like someone couldn''t decide whether they wanted granite or stone and just went with both.

    Not wasting any time, Judge teleported back to his own home, carefully avoiding raising any suspicion. After all, the last thing he wanted was his mother sniffing around for him. That would be¡­ bad. Very bad. His mother was well within the "Do Not Anger" zone of the universe, an entity beyond even the almighty Observer''s range of influence.

    He glanced around his familiar surroundings¡ª the high wooden ceiling, the extravagant chandelier swinging slightly, his wooden desk filled with important things he never used, and oh yes, his loving, doting mother... who looked incredibly angry. Wait. Mom?! sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge froze. Oh no. He was doomed. His mother had made it explicitly clear he wasn''t to leave the house without permission. Being the child of a prominent household and a known prodigy, Judge wasn''t exactly free to roam around unsupervised.

    Judge could manipulate ether, bend reality, and write people''s actions, but none of that could save him from the true force of nature: Mom. She was the final boss, the unskippable cutscene, the inescapable doom." And when he tries to explain himself, you could add: "He could face hordes of enemies without flinching, but now his tongue had decided to take a vacation. Worst timing ever.

    "M-Mom¡­ I c-can explain," Judge stammered, suddenly feeling very un-prodigy-like. He could have explained things better if he could just think clearly and his tongue actually said what he needed, but his mother was one thing he was weak towards.

    "Oh?" Eleyn''s smile was charming enough to melt the coldest heart, but the glint in her eyes promised consequences. "My sweet son wants to explain why he disobeyed me and ran off?" Her smile widened in a way that made Judge''s blood run cold. "Should I hear him out?"

    Judge gulped, his mind racing. He was either going to be the prodigy of "Tragic Early Death" in tomorrow''s paper or, if he was lucky, he might escape with a few broken bones. It all depended on whether his mother felt merciful today.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, back at Finn''s house, Finn had no idea that Lucifer, in all his creepy glory, was recording his every move. Completely oblivious, Finn unsheathed his mother''s blade, the silver catching the sunlight that filtered through the half-open window. He stared at it for a moment, before sheathing it again with a look of determination and heading for the door.

    Across the house, Derina lay in bed, paralyzed from the waist down since that fateful incident with her husband. Only she knew¡ª well, barely knew¡ª why the paralysis had set in only after she returned home.

    She had burned her own life force just to get there, using it to support her legs for the last, desperate steps. Burning life force wasn''t unheard of, but it was rarely done, as the principle was poorly understood¡ª and very much feared.

    It was also what made Derina an unmatched healer. She had found the principle buried in an old book her father discovered in the ruins of a long-forgotten researcher''s workshop. And now, bedridden as she was, the knowledge she possessed was worth more than gold, though it had cost her dearly.

    Teresa, her niece, poured her a drink with the grace and efficiency of someone twice her age. Only twenty, and she already knew how to handle all the housework. "Here, Aunty, drink this," Teresa said, her voice soft and soothing. The steam from the herbal tea wafted into the cool air.

    Derina smiled weakly. "Thank you, Tres." She took the cup, feeling the warmth spread through her fragile fingers. One sip, and the sweet, comforting taste wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. "Mmm, better than last time," she said, casting a proud look at her niece.

    "Aww, thanks, Aunty," Teresa beamed, leaning in for a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. Derina''s body had grown more fragile over time, the toll of her condition evident in every movement.

    Finn, sword in hand, was just about to leave when he felt it¡ª a presence, cold and dark, like a shadow creeping up his spine. For a moment, he thought it was the Observer returning, but no¡­ this was different. This presence felt dangerous, like something out of a nightmare.

    "You are Finn, I presume?" A cold, detached voice echoed from behind him, sending chills down his spine. He turned slowly, only to be met by the sight of a young woman in white researcher''s garb. Her short, black hair contrasted sharply with her deep, unnerving purple eyes.

    This¡­ was definitely not the Observer. And that was far more terrifying. Finn''s first instinct was to run, but his legs had apparently decided they were too polite to move.

 Chapter 83 Why Sneaking Out Never Works

    Eleyn was eyeing Judge like she was sizing up her ingredients for a smoked lizard she could cook at a late night backyard barbeque party."So tell me, Judge, give me one good reason why I should not punish you for sneaking out." She asked her son calmly and seriously like a proper adult, but her tone said otherwise. It was a storm waiting to form.

    "Well... y-you see, m-mom" Great, his silver tongue decided to have a break when he needed it the most, he silently cursed his tongue. "I wanted to visit the streets incognito... Hehe." He gave a self depreciating laugh.

    But his mother did not seem convinced, she appeared to be more angry if anything. Judge could not blame himself for his stuttering and the feeling of fear towards his mother. Dragons, most dragons, had someone whom they feared and respected.

    While most had only one or two, it could always go higher, and Judge had three¡ª his mother was the first on the list, she was warm and caring, but at the same time, she was cold and ruthless.

    Then there was his teacher, Miss Melina, she might be the only one who was of another race in the entire land of dragons. He heard that his grandfather had taught her. Speaking of grandfathers, the third person he feared the most was his grandfather.

    His grandfather, Gereon, was not a difficult person and would never get angry over silly matters. But he was excessively powerful, Judge was not at all afraid of his power, but he was more afraid of his grandfather''s calm and decisive manner of handling any situation.

    He had a hunch that he was not the only one who was a master at manipulating, and he knew his grandfather already knew of his manipulative nature, just like he knew his grandfather''s.

    His mind refocused as he heard Mother rambling on about how dangerous the world was that even being a dragon, he would be no match for many opponents.

    "Judge, you are my son, and I am responsible for your safety. And unlike your irresponsible father," She folded her hand into a fist just at the thought of her husband, "You are not strong enough to survive out there.

    "Remember, no matter how powerful you think you are, there is always someone more powerful." She thought for a second before continuing, "For example, you know that your grandfather is the most powerful dragon in this city right."

    She waited a bit and watched Judge nod in an unsure manner. "Your grandfather may be the strongest among the land of the strongest species, but there could be a more powerful being in the vast world out there, maybe more than one, who knows. But the strongest one would be a dragon still."

    Wow! Dragon pride at its finest. Judge lampooned.

    He nodded in understanding, and could only agree with his mother in this situation, he was afraid that she would suddenly turn angry if she got a negative response from him. He did not want to take the gamble, she was already angry enough.

    Just as he was thinking about how to get out of this predicament, he received a mental message from Lucifer. "Observer, there seems to be another person who is visiting Finn after you left."

    "Record them for now." He Replied quickly before going into deep pondering. But he needed to get rid of his mother before he could space out, so he listened attentively and nodded to everything she had to say.

    After a long while of nagging, his mother finally left him on house arrest, she used a spirit to watch over him and left after saying that she had a surprise for him if he just stayed in his room and on the balcony, he must not go out.

    His room was pretty big, it could be more than the size of Finn''s house, not to mention the spacious balcony. It was made spacious because he could get inside as a dragon when he grew older and learned to transform.

    Without anything else to do, he fell onto his bed and started to guess who the person might be.

    If they seek Finn, then it must be from the church of Tenebris, the god of night. But why are they after a simple peasant like him? When you think about it, even from the beginning itself, there is something that does not add up. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Why would they go out of their way to kill a farmer, he had thought it was because of how Finn accepted god at the last moment and Derek thought it was stupid and not worth his time.

    Of course, Judge was not stupid to think that was all, he knew the church was planning something with their believers inside the village. And for that, the place should only have believers.

    Judge displayed the image of the person who had come to see Finn, it was a woman covered in bandages, she wore a researcher''s white coat. The only visible features were her short black hair and an oppressive purple eye.

    He felt like he had seen those eyes somewhere but he did not know where. She asked Finn if he needed revenge, to which Finn went silent and said that he would take care of it himself.

    Judge was suddenly glad that he only summoned Finn''s soul to the Studio, if he had taken the whole body or visited him in his house, he was sure that the person would have noticed his existence.

    But the bigger question was what she needed, Judge watched as she smiled after he rejected her proposal for revenge.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Finn was surprised at the smile that the bandaged woman gave him. He just said no to her offer, but why was she smiling? The unanswered question was shooed to the side as she spoke her next sentence.

    "Then let me give you a tip, the church of the god of the night is behind your friend''s death." her voice turned the air around her cold, and just kike that she vanished as if she had never existed. Leaving Finn to wonder how deep this issue was.

    This was a fight between two or more powerhouses, even including the gods. His friend''s death was just a side effect that the other force decided to take advantage of.

    He cursed himself, he was too weak to even partake in this revenge. He had no other choice but not to seek revenge, he was not stupid enough to seek revenge after all those big shots obviously wanting him to take revenge.

    He still wanted to take revenge, so he thought of ways in which he could grow stronger. Suddenly, he remembered the mask that the Observer gave him, he thought about it for a second.

    If he needed power, it was an obvious choice, but he was still skeptical. This was too suspicious, why would he be awarded power in exchange for curiosity? But the person was honest.

    He decided to accept the mask, working was something cheap he could do in exchange for power. He took a breath and put on the mask.

    "Welcome, Mister Finn," He heard a deep, refined voice behind him, it had an air of distinct authority. "I welcome you to the rank of the Recorders as Satan, the sin of wrath. It is not a mere position, it records your position in the grand journey of this world."

 Chapter 84 The Principle of Seeing Through Stuff (Just Not Clothes)

    "This cranks up the ether... and this part lets the unused ether sneak away," Judge muttered under his breath, poking at the artifact like a child trying to figure out how a clock worked by staring at its hands. Active artifacts were a headache. Unlike the dead ones, which he could gleefully rip apart to peek at their insides, these ticking ether bombs demanded caution.Even if he did take it apart (and lived to tell the tale), the active parts wouldn''t cooperate nicely, leaving him with an embarrassing jumble of non-functioning connections.

    That''s why he''d casually mentioned to Melina that he needed to learn a principle that would let him see through objects, though he''d nearly slipped and said X-ray. Judge cursed his past life''s knowledge of modern terms. Apparently, "I need to look inside things for purely academic purposes" raised some suspicion. Who knew?

    After much eyebrow-raising on Melina''s part and a barrage of reassurances from his side, she reluctantly agreed to teach him. Of course, it came with warnings, like "don''t get any funny ideas," but Judge wasn''t interested in fabric or, you know, anything people wear. He wanted to see the blueprints¡ª the mechanical inner workings of artifacts.

    What Melina eventually taught him wasn''t quite what he''d expected. No dramatic vision through walls, no supernatural power to see through solid objects. Instead, the principle allowed him to ''observe'' the materials that made up said objects.

    Basically, while he could not see through anything, he could still see the components of what the object was made of, its mechanics, and its inner workings.

    So if he tried to look at a wall, all he''d get was the composition: stone, dust, a faint whiff of regret from the builder. No people, no secret chambers¡ª just the cold, hard truth.

    Judge had created a similar principle while he was looking for the reason behind why there was a part on the stone wall that did not emit ether while every other part did. But the principle was rather simple and it searched for anomalies with the surrounding ether.

    Still, it was a start. And knowing Melina, she probably suspected he''d figure out how to tweak it. She knew Judge had a gift for ethercraft, which, to him, felt less like learning and more like playing around with the world''s most dangerous toys.

    Mid scribble, Judge was jolted from his focus by a knock at the door. "Master Judge, your breakfast is ready. May I enter?" came the polite, almost musical voice of his maid, Lediya. His mother had specifically chosen Lediya because handling him was like taming a particularly stubborn dragon¡ªand not the cute baby kind.

    "Come in," Judge said, voice flat as a pancake. Breakfast wasn''t exactly on his priority list. His mother hadn''t even given him the courtesy of joining the family for meals. Sure, it wasn''t that he craved company or anything¡ªhe''d just prefer the occasional opportunity to see his father. A man so elusive, he might as well be a myth.

    Honestly, seeing his dad was like encountering a rare celestial event, one that involved more paperwork than parental bonding.

    Lediya cracked open the door like she expected him to make a run for it. As if he would ever stoop so low as to escape his own room. The slight was real, but he couldn''t exactly blame her. His track record spoke for itself.

    She slid in with the tray, pushing the wheeled cart across the floor like she was more spirit than person. Dressed in an outfit that screamed "look at my employer''s obscene wealth," Lediya''s maid uniform was more fitting for a ball than breakfast service.

    Judge barely glanced at the food, Lediya stood beside the deep brown tray politely, her hands were on top of her skirt, one on top of the other. She wore a red full skirt with detailed embroidery patterns and laces, a light golden bodice, and a spotless white apron on top of her skirt and bodice.

    Anyone would have a second guess when they see the maid outfit of the Drakonis house, it looked like and attire for a respectable lady attending a banquet. This was only something to flaunt their wealth.

    "What''s for breakfast?" he asked, hoping to find an excuse to dismiss it. His mind was already crafting the line: Sorry, too busy being a genius to eat. But then Lediya, wise to his tricks, dropped the name. Continue your journey at My Virtual Library Empire

    "It''s Worrak steak, Master Judge."

    The audible sigh that followed was the sound of defeat. "Fine, I''ll eat," he grumbled. His pride lost to the allure of perfectly seared Worrak steak, a delicacy that even his dragon-half had trouble resisting.

    He wasn''t about to pretend he was above a good steak, especially not that steak. Back in his old life, steak was just the easy go-to when you didn''t want to deal with "fancy" rich-people food. Here, though, Worrak steak was the stuff of legends, and once Judge had tasted it, he was hooked.

    Lediya set the tray on the table, and Judge dragged himself away from his work, landing on the cushion like a sack of flour. The plush red velvet practically swallowed him whole as he eyed the steak. His mouth watered. There was no going back now.

    With a fork and knife in hand, he carefully sliced into the meat, trying not to look too excited. If his mother knew he was this easy to manipulate, she''d have Lediya serving Worrak steak for every meal. Maybe that wouldn''t be such a bad thing.

    He savored the rich, buttery texture as it melted in his mouth, a cargo of flavors dancing on his tongue. The seasoning? Excellent. The cut? immaculate. The entire experience?

    Supernatural. If food had a hierarchy, this steak was a god, and Judge was its most loyal worshiper.

    For a moment, he forgot everything¡ª his problems, his schemes, even his lack of freedom. Just him and the steak, an epic romance he would never speak of out loud. He wasn''t just eating; he was experiencing life in its purest, tastiest form.

    In the midst of his savory experience, his brain decided to properly work in order to form a plan to escape to the expansive world out there. His munching slowed down as he started to think.

    There were a few obstacles in his way that stopped him from getting out, the first was his maid¡ª she would come to check on him every now and then. Then there was a spirit that his mother had assigned to him. It served two purposes, one was the fact that it served him as his familiar, and the other was that it was a snitch who would report his every abnormal move to his mother.

    The third problem was his mother, while she was not as frequent as the maid, she would visit him at least once every day. He needed a plan to get out of this predicament somehow, But how? He started to brainstorm. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Master Judge?" Lediya noticed his sleepy state and decided to wake him up.

    Judge who was deep in thought was instantly pulled back to his senses, he had to think of a way after he finished his breakfast.

 Chapter 85 Judges plan for a risky endeavor

    After finishing the last piece of his favorite dish, Judge put away the cutlery and swiftly wiped his mouth with a napkin. He let out a sigh of relief as the oily food residue around his mouth was wiped, and then he finished the dessert in a swift action of grabbing the glass and drinking, he finished the whole glass in a single gulp.He then gave another sigh of relief as the refreshing feeling hit his mouth, cleaning anything that was stuck and giving him a fresh breath of air in his mouth.

    He watched as Lediya went out of the room, pushing the cart. He waited for her to close the door and waited a little more time, he knew she would still be somewhere to check for any anomalies.

    After making sure that he was free of any watchers, except that damn spirit, he decided to pretend as if he was observing a new artifact, even though he did not finish the current one.

    It was pretty abnormal in itself, but not the kind of abnormality that anyone would pay attention to. They only cared if he left his room.

    Pretending to be busy, Judge thought about various ways he could escape his quandary. He leaned back on his chair as if he was relaxing.

    Let''s see, the spirit could not sense my soul or existence, it could only sense my body. Besides the spirit, only Lediya would visit me frequently. The other visitors are Melina and Dosav. Each and every one of them could sense my existence, so if I were to leave, I need a small form of existence inside my body.

    It should still be big enough as not to arouse suspicion, I could just pretend to be asleep.

    But there is still the matter of them coming into my room, and when they check on me up close, there is no way I could fake my absence.

    So the factors I need to solve are¡ª leaving while my body is still in my room, I could use a clone for that, but I have to create it in the real world. Next is to leave behind a small amount of ether to show my existence, which is manageable, but the last one is not.

    I need to be alert when someone comes into my room, and I need someone to alert me when someone is close I can also not go away for a long period of time because of the spirit, but would be fine as long as I go out at night when my body is asleep.

    So the problem remains for someone to alert me when someone comes into my room, should I tell recorders to do that?

    No! I am a god''s descent, why should I need help for something so silly?

    Maybe I could summon a spirit by myself that would be outside my mother''s jurisdiction.

    After overworking his brain without a proper pay, he decided on a plan. It would be risky, but it was the only way he could go out. After the incidents with the fake reality, he could no longer bring things he made inside his studio to the real world.

    His sword instructor, Mr Dosav, would come in after some time. He would teleport them to a confined arena in order for him to train his sword, the house arrest was that strict, who would put their own child under such strict watch just for going out a couple of times... maybe more than a couple, but still.

    His plan was simple, he needed to learn how to summon spirits from his mother. Melina was a great option, but he had a gut feeling that she would raise an eyebrow at that request after his previous request for ''academic purposes.'' He was not comfortable with being suspected of ''not-so-four-year-old'' activities.

    After summoning a spirit, he would then use the spirit to notify him about anyone near his room or in the hallway just outside his room. He could sleep peacefully, knowing someone would wake him up if anything was amiss.

    Going to the studio was the next course of action, he would only go there with his soul like he had done when he first entered the studio. He could leave a little amount of his ether inside his original body when he leaves.

    Then he could create a clone and roam the world, it was perfect¡ª risky, but rewarding.

    Judge jolted up from his seat as he heard a series of calm knocking on his door. He instantly knew it was instructor Dosav, other than him, only Lediya would knock, and her knock was different.

    "Come in," He stood up and went near the unlit fireplace, why do dragons need on anyway? The winter cold was just a mild chill to them fire breathers. Judge lampooned as he took the unnecessarily decorated sword from the sword holding near the fireplace.

    Instructor Dosav entered the place without great caution when opening the door, unlike Lediya. She was afraid that he might try to escape, while Dosav was confident in his abilities to stop Judge before he even tried.

    "Are you ready to start? Young master Judge?" Dosav asked as he closed the double door behind him. "Today we have to work more on your natural flow." Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    Judge sighed as he nodded with discontent, he had no choice but to nod. Unless he was seriously ill, there was no way to skip lessons. Any minor issues can be dealt with immediately.

    Judge thought about how the all-powerful ether that seemed to solve all of his problems acted against him when it came to skipping lessons. He silently cursed the healing magic, but he still did not hate it because he knew he would absolutely need it one day.

    Dosav watched Judge sigh as he swiftly teleported them to the enclosed arena that was usually reserved for fights that avoided the public eye. No that the public would come into the castle grounds to watch any fight without permission.

    But this place was built to avoid the eyes of even the servants. The friendly duals between the family members were held inside this arena, and the walls were strong enough to protect against most strong attacks. They were as strong as the castle walls as well as the grand city walls.

    "Raise your sword, prepare your stance," Judge was uninterested in the rambling of instructor Dosav, he was strong, but Judge hated any lessons related to swords. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He sighed again, this was going to be another series of knocking out a dragon child.

 Chapter 86 When you get lightheaded, literally

    Judge moved his eyes frantically as he tried to locate the sword instructor. He still refused to use enhanced cognition, this training was meant to make him stronger, and it would be too troublesome if people decided that he was too much of a genius.Soon, the strike came from the left, Judge instinctively dodged by leaning backward. But he leaned back too much and had to do an unnecessary backflip that left Dosav to reconsider his career choices, yes he would become a teacher for acrobats, that would be better.

    After getting back up from his agile backflip, Judge decided to take the initiative and go for the blow by swiftly stabbing his sword forward.

    They were both sparring with their own swords, but they were sheathed. Most normal weapons that are made do not faze a dragon''s skin, unless they were made by a master craftsman. But even a kitchen knife made by a dragon was meant to cut monster hides as hard as a dragon''s skin. Discover exclusive content at My Virtual Library Empire

    Eleyn''s face flashed in his mind as Judge got a hard hit by a horizontal swing from Dosav''s sword, straight to his temples. If someone slowed down the footage, they could clearly see his surprised face with many ripples caused by the impact.

    Judge was blasted away and hit a wall, knocking himself out in the process. To add insult to injury, the protective barrier on the wall did not even activate. It would normally activate if a blow that would cause even a slight damage to the wall was directed at it.

    Dosav sheathed his sword and looked pathetically at the ether genius of the Drakonis family, He might someday rule the family, right? He sighed, there was nothing he could do.

    ...

    It was around noon and Judge was still waiting for his food, Melina was rambling on about the history of dragons and about the two important figures of the dragon race who lived two thousand years back.

    What use does history have? And two thousand years back? Why do I need to study about some old gramps? Judge''s thoughts wandered, never focusing on his lessons.

    "... And As such, the dragons formed an alliance with the gods, dragons promised to look after the people, and the gods did not have to be held under casualties of descending to the mortal realm. This happened four thousand years ago, and a new and prosperous era started. It was called Aetas Custodis, and it was named in the ancient language called Latin, but it is a lost tongue now.

    "Slowly, the gods disappeared from the world, together with the evil deities and other existences, making the world peaceful and prosperous. The dragons were revered as the guardians, and under their rule, the world was prosperous and many kingdoms started to emerge, the most notable was the kingdom of Eldris.

    "Eldris was started by the leader of the dragons, Emperor Rey and Empress Lyra. But the other races did not know of the ruler''s race, and nobody tried to pry... JUDGE!"

    Melina was so immersed in her explanation and she had forgotten about Judge listening. He had fallen asleep, his stomach was growling, but he did not seem to mind¡ª No, he did not even notice that he was hungry.

    Dragons had other means to satisfy their hungry self, their body would slightly absorb the natural ether around them to sustain, but it lasted at most a week. Many had tried to do this manually, but there was no principle created to do that even though it seemed simple.

    Even though most dragons did not fancy complicated principles, there were still dragons who researched principles and created their own. In fact, creating one''s own principle was a rare thing to find, even among species with high intelligence like the goblins.

    Judge came to his senses after Melina gave him a ''loving pat'' on the back of his head, the pain was memorable. He did not know when he fell asleep, but the lecture was boring, so he did at some point.

    "Why do you only listen attentively when it is about ethercraft and principles? History is also an important matter you know?" Melina pursed her lips, she did not know how he could sit straight through hours of lectures about ether and principle but fail to do so at any other, more interesting lectures.

    "It''s because I want to grow more powerful," Judge had no reason to hide that fact as it would only hinder his growth if he hid it. But he never told anyone that he wished to become a god after attaining enough power. The only problem was that he did not know how to become a god.

    Melina turned around and prepared to leave, "History can contribute to your strength," she said cryptically and left, leaving Judge in deep and very unnecessary thought.

    The cryptic style of speaking made Judge remember Clio, reigniting his spark to continue his research on artifacts in order to understand the components of a divine artifact in the unforeseeable future.

    Watching Melina leave, Judge quickly turned his attention toward his desk where the artifacts were kept. He got up from his sofa and went to his desk to continue his work, he could not go out of the room anyways.

    Just as he sat down, his attention went towards the piece of artifact in front of him that he had not worked with yet and another one that he still had not completed¡ª and a realization struck him.

    I forgot to ask Mother about spirit summoning!

    His mother had came in with Melina and had left early, he was focused on why she seemed more energetic and cheerful and had completely forgotten to ask his mother about it.

    No! This is better, I have to ask Mom when Melina is not around, I don''t want to see two more raised eyebrows. He comforted himself.

    Putting aside the distracting thoughts, he quickly immersed himself in his artifact studies, but his stomach raised a protest by growling monotonously. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    As if waiting for the timing, there was another knock on his door. "Master Judge, it''s lunch." Came a sweet voice, making Jugde sigh with a smile, Nice timing! He muttered internally and let her in.

 Chapter 87 How to kidnap a four year old

    After finishing the roasted mutton chops with a side salad and a semi-decent soup, Judge wiped his mouth with a napkin. The soup was extremely good, but Judge''s intransigent mind refused to allow the dish to be as good as the Worrak steak.He let Lediya take back the tray and then decided to immerse himself back in his studies. But before he could, his sister decided to unreasonably intrude (knock on the door) upon his holy residence (his room).

    Judge sighed as he got up from his seat with great effort, he sighed again after he got up and went towards the door at a leisurely pace, and then he sighed again after he opened the door. "What do you want?" Judge sighed.

    His sister seemed to be disappointed in his answer, What?! Did I say something wrong? The judge thought about what he could have said wrong, but according to how he usually acts, this should be a normal response.

    Then why does she look so discontent? Did she catch on to my acting? No way, I have always acted irresponsibly and indifferently in the house. Then what is the matter now? Judge was searching for answers, but before he could come to a conclusion¡ª his sister answered his question for him with another question.

    "Judge! Do you have any idea what day tomorrow is?" She raised her voice with obvious authority, making Judge shudder in fear. He felt as if he was explaining to his mother why he went out without permission.

    "Uhhh... n-no?" He tried to be as polite as possible, there was no way he could beat his sister who had been taught the art of transformation, "S-sorry..." He wanted to ease the tension and make her less of a threat, "You know? I was so immersed in deciphering artifacts that I forgot about everything else."

    "Artifacts?"

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, besides his father and grandfather, only his mother, Melina, and Dosav knew about his secret study of artifacts. "Just keep it a secret okay!" Judge fell into another trap after just escaping one, and he had to quickly fix this one.

    Amber''s golden eyes locked onto his ashen gray eyes for a brief second, she thought for a moment before replying, "Okay, but you still have to pay more attention to the happenings outside your room." Experience exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire

    Judge gave an exaggerated nod, he had no other choice but to agree, even though he had no interest in those things.

    Seeing Judge''s approval Amber came back to her topic, "Tomorrow is the day I depart to the wyvern house in the Wistmere city, I have to learn more about the world outside before I attend the school." She was ten years and a few months old.

    She should have already left for Limdon just a month after she had turned ten years old, the month was for her to learn how to transform into an actual dragon, and also how to be less menacing and turn into a wyvern. But she stayed to leave after Judge''s birthday.

    After going to Wistmere, she would then stay at the Wyvern Drakonis family house and learn more about the world before she was sent to the Eldris Royal School when the new academic year started on January first.

    If the schedule was too tight and one turned ten in December or November, the learning process would start earlier, but they could not leave the house before they turned ten, even if their birthday was on December 31.

    "Did you come here to brag? Just because you are ten and could go out does not mean that I am jealous." Judge spoke with jealousy and envy that he was deliberately trying to hide behind his words.

    "I just want to remind you to come to the docks when I leave." His sister turned and left without another word, even though she was nonchalant in her tone. Judge could clearly sense the superiority and the sentence "Haa, take that... sucker" behind her words.

    Judge closed the door behind him without watching her leave, he sighed Heh, kids. They just can''t wait to show off. He thought as he sighed again. Why did his parents had to have other children besides him?

    Judge decided to turn his focus back onto the artifacts on his table, and fortunately, there were no intruders this time.

    But the calmness did not last long as he saw a lofty figure sitting carefree on his open windowsill, drinking tea from a rather exquisite cup. His actions were like he cared nothing in this world other than himself and his tea.

    Judge''s warning senses were giving off their alarms like crazy, all of the windows in the mansion were specially protected by his mother against intruders¡ª especially his since he had a great tendency to escape.

    But the protective runes had no effect on this man''s body as he did not show even a tiny bit of discomfort just sitting somewhere where he would be constantly attacked by the runic defense. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The man wore a cream double-breasted coat and a gray flat cap, he had a golden-rimmed monocle on his left eye, which was unusual since most wore it on their right eye. He had a sharp jawline and a trimmed beard.

    He turned towards Judge, sipping another mouthful of tea from his cup which nobody had any idea why he had one. His sharp, hunter-like eyes pierced Judge, the dark iris was even more menacing.

    Judge seriously wondered if he had been just a victim of random teleportation and he was interrupted while he was having his evening tea in his spare time, because that was the look he gave.

    The man put down his cup after gulping down the whole tea, the cup just evaporated like it did not even exist, it just added to Judge''s anxiety. He wanted to sigh, but his danger instincts told him not to move, who is he? He certainly is powerful, he does not even mind Mom''s defensive runes.

    "Judge," The man spoke in a calm, serious tone, "Wanna head out?"

    He would have rejected the offer without a second thought¡ª after all, ''stranger danger.'' But he recognized the voice, one he knew all too well. "Dad?" he asked, his tone filled with confusion.

    The voice of this man was his dad''s, but the appearance¡ª while he had no choice but to accept he was good looking¡ª he was not as good as his father, who had red hair and golden eyes.

 Chapter 88 The beauty and the corpse

    A man lay down on a damp forest ground, it was dark, but the blue moonlight gave sufficient lighting. He looked around, still lying on the floor. His face showed clear signs of fear, but his eyes were full of determination.With the coast clear, he decided to make a move. He tried to get up, but then realized something¡ª his legs were both gone, with dark, crimson blood gushing out from them soundlessly.

    He felt no pain, but his bewilderment grew in panic. Whoever his hunter was, he knew that person had got him, the prey. He tried to crawl away, ''just a few more'', he muttered under his slow and heavy breathing.

    But the slow crawling by scratching the ground did not last long, the next thing gone were both of his hands¡ª silently, painlessly. The man screamed, not in pain or agony, but in pure panic and fear.

    He knew his time had come, and without putting up any more resistance, he accepted his fate, he accepted the slow but painless death. But fate was indeed cruel, his figure started to be crushed slowly, starting from his leg above his knees.

    The man screamed as he felt pain, real pain he had forgotten long ago. Slowly, his abdomen was crushed by an invisible force, the sound of cracking bones and squished organs penetrated the silence of the night, together with an unbridled scream of a man in agony.

    After a short while, the screams stopped as the man''s head was crushed. The night regained its serenity, and the hunter who killed the man came out from behind the shadows.

    He had charcoal-black hair, deep dark eyes, and a sharp jawline with a trimmed beard. He wore a cream double-breasted frock and a grey flat cap.

    He went in front of the dead man... no, crushed corpse and stood there silently for some time, then he spoke in a low, apologetic voice, "You could have died an easier death if you were not a part of that foolish group, I am sorry, but this is the only way to get answers."

    After a brief prayer for the dead, he took out a few small bottles and rummaged through them until he found a bottle of grey liquid with white spots churning inside it.

    Without wasting time, he opened the bottle, and let a single drop fall out of the bottle, immediately closing the bottle and putting it away. He then clasped his hands together as if he was praying.

    Oh spirits who guide the dead

    I ask for none but a moment

    Allow me to converse with the soul

    The soul of the deceased whom I marked

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    The air above the corpse got distorted, and a white and grey figure slowly materialized. The man in the frock coat immediately took out a silver cube and placed it on the ground, before it touched the ground, it flew up from his hand and started to spin clockwise, and an invisle barrier was formed.

    Searching through his double-breasted frock coat again, he took out a slim stick and burned its end with a blue flame he conjured using ether. The stick was instantly burned and the residue particles of different colors hung in the air.

    After finishing up with all of the preparations, he started his conversation with the soul of the dead man, who screamed pitifully as soon as he heard his voice.

    The conversation did not go on for long, right after obtaining the relevant clues, he dispelled the barrier and let the colorful fog disperse. He stuffed the silver cube inside his pockets and took out a golden pocket watch. He smiled at the picture inside.

    It was his family, Alex Drakonis, with his red hair, along with his wife, Eleyn, holding a baby Judge who was wrapped securely in a cotton cloth. And also his two other little volcanos Liam and Amber. His gaze shifted to the time, "It''s high time I head back!" He said to himself, "I have to accompany Amber tomorrow.

    "But let me meet Judge first, I missed his birthday, and as a proper father, I have to make it up to him."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex drakonis, still sitting on the windowsill of Judge''s room, turned to his son and laughed, changing back to his original appearance. The charcoal black hair turned red, and the dark eyes that seemed to hold the abyss turned into a radiating golden glow.

    His facial features transformed: his Greek nose grew more angular, his eyes became sharper, and his brows thinned. The once-trimmed beard vanished, leaving behind a youthful visage that resembled a twenty-year-old struggling his hardest to grow out a single strand of beard.

    Judge looked at his father thoughtfully, he instantly knew what to do. If there was one person his mother could not go against, it should be his father. "Alright let''s go outside, Dad."

    He went and hugged his father tightly, who raised him up with both his hands, "You seem energetic, that''s my son." He let out a laugh as if he was the happiest man alive on the planet.

    All of Judge''s worries seemed to melt when he was in his father''s embrace, it was as if he had no worries to begin with, he wanted to stay like for longer.

    Alex held Rey''s hand and teleported away, he knew Judge could not go out through the window. Judge was hoping to see an alleyway or somewhere inconspicuous inside the city, but the view in front of him was breathtaking, literally¡ª He even forgot to breathe as he marveled at the beauty of the lush green scenery.

    It was not inside the city, they were in the sky, watching the panoramic view of lush mountains as far as his eyes could see.

    Without warning, his father transformed into a great, red dragon¡ª with wings almost as big as his huge body, Judge sat on his back and enjoyed the ride. "Hold on, Judge. Try not to fall." He laughed as he accelerated.

    "Whaaat?!" Judge Could only muster up one word before he felt the strong gush of wind due to his father''s flight.

    He decided to focus on the scene instead of letting the wind get him, he had to hold on firmly to his father''s scales.

    Judge watched the countless lakes and rivers, both big and small. There were many small towns, and he could get a clear view due to his sharp eyes, but he knew the villagers would have a hard time making out what was flying overhead due to how high his father flew.

    His clear mind had only one thought after seeing the beautiful places he had never seen before, even in his previous life. "Haa, take that, Mom! Who would you push the blame onto? Father is the one who took me out, you have no right to be angry."

    You are not going to ground Dad, are you? He could not help but chuckle after thinking about his mother who had no way of grounding him.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    What is happening? Judge was kneeling in front of his mother who seemed to be too angry to even hear him out, he turned to the side, Dad? His father was also kneeling but he was more humble than him.

    Judge sighed, why did he trust his father was gonna let him out of his house arrest?

 Chapter 89 Mom Said No Adventures, So Naturallyâ€¦ Here We Are

    "Alex," Eleyn''s voice sliced through the air like a scythe, carrying the unmistakable tone of a mother who''s just learned her kid has used her best kitchenware for a science experiment. But this wasn''t just angry¡ª it was dragon mom angry. Her voice remained cold, but her expression looked like a boiling cauldron that was one insult away from overflowing."You knew exactly why Judge was on house arrest."

    They were in Alex''s room, though "shared" was a bit of a stretch. When Alex wasn''t around, Eleyn promptly relocated herself and her wrath to her own quarters, for the sake of, well, everyone''s safety. Judge, meanwhile, had been unceremoniously escorted back to his room, barely dodging an extension on his "vacation from fun."

    "Come on, Eleyn," Alex leaned into his most compassionate expression, which was only slightly less terrifying than her dragon mom look. "You can''t keep him cooped up forever. The kid''s going to need fresh air at some point. Give him some credit. He''s your son, after all. And if we''re talking about troublemakers, have you seen Liam lately?

    That kid practically invented chaos, and you barely even blink."

    Eleyn''s look hardened. "You know Judge''s... challenges. Letting him out would only endanger the innocent bystanders, or did that slip your well-organized mind?"

    Alex rubbed his temples, casting a mournful look at the cigar case in his pocket. His patience and diplomacy levels were being tested, but he soldiered on, hugging Eleyn with a bit more desperation than he''d ever admit. "Listen, it''s just that if we keep him in a gilded cage forever, he''s bound to figure out a way to blow the door off. Just... think about it."

    Eleyn''s eyebrow rose in suspicion. "What are you implying? And also, I won''t keep my child in a cage forever."

    Sighing, Alex muttered something about the Aetas Custodis. "Look, from what I could dig up, it''s not just him being a handful. It''s only when he gets, you know, worked up that... things go up in smoke. Literally."

    Eleyn''s eyes narrowed. "You''re telling me this now?"

    "I only recently learned." He reached for a cigar, only to have it swiped right out of his fingers.

    "No smoking in the room," she barked, without so much as looking up from her furrowed brow.

    "Oh, right, yes, because dragon breath and smoke really don''t mix," he muttered sarcastically, but he wisely decided to drop it. His protest, though muted, coaxed a reluctant smile from her, the first sign that her wrath might be cooling.

    "So, you find anything about controlling it?"

    "Got one, but it would not guarantee complete safety, but it would be less

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, in his "secure" quarters, Judge paced back and forth, glancing at the diary and notebook on his desk with the energy of a squirrel on too much caffeine.

    "Boring," he muttered, dropping onto his bed, then bouncing up again like it was made of spikes. He wasn''t even in the mood to fiddle with his ether-powered gadgets, which was alarming enough. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After an eternity (about thirty seconds), a new plan struck him with the force of a divine inspiration. "Nihility," he whispered, glancing around to make sure no one had installed surprise parental supervision. He could pour his restless energy into the study of nihility, the mysterious principle he''d been sneaking notes about.

    Though Hawthorne had given the research notes to the noble who had commissioned him to find it, Judge had politely borrowed(Stole) both parts of the diary, he was surprised to find that he still had not gotten the beginning part of the research papers, not that he cared.

    Grinning, he began mapping out his plan with the precision of a genius, or possibly a very caffeinated raccoon. The plan was simple: keep up appearances until nightfall, eat dinner (to avoid suspicion), pretend to sleep (obviously), and then... nihility time inside his personal dimension with no adult supervision. He practically rubbed his hands together at the thought.

    With a casual strut, he went over to his desk and picked up his newest artifact called "The Cleaner." Supposedly, it could separate any particles attached to a surface¡ª essentially, a fancy magic vacuum cleaner.

    Judge held it up to his shirt, smirking. "Behold! The world''s most over-engineered lint roller... with a cup on the side," he muttered, chuckling as he funneled his own ether into the thing since he was fresh out of catalysts.

    He rolled the horizontally placed cylinder on the artifact across his chest, expecting nothing more than a puff of dust, but instead, a paper appeared inside the cup along with dust¡ª an odd slip that shimmered like a piece of the night sky, swirling blues and blacks dotted with tiny, moving stars made of gold.

    Judge''s eyes went wide, he took the thick paper and put away the goblet. "Well, hello there, mystery parchment," he muttered, swiftly activating his enhanced cognition to capture every detail before whisking it into his studio. Mom''s sixth sense (The spirit) for "Judge getting into trouble" didn''t need a free show.

    The small, thick paper held a single rune, drawn in mysterious strokes. His mom and Melina had always been cagey about runes, which of course made him infinitely more curious, but he''d learned the basics from his granddad''s books.

    The rune was a circle with a small opening at the top, there was a "V" stemming from the middle of the circle, and it went beyond the circle, going through the two sides of the opening.

    There were two downward-curved shapes that were above and below the circle''s opening and they touched the two vertical lines from the "V".

    This rune, he knew. It was the rune for Sealing.

    Sealing, he thought, as if repeating it would make it disappear. Why on earth did he have a sealing rune floating around his person? The rune couldn''t just be hanging out on his clothes¡ª it would''ve been too obvious. So¡­ it had to be inside him.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed. Someone put a sealing rune inside me? His confusion quickly morphed into outrage. Who''s out here playing fast and loose with my innards?

    And sealing what, exactly? The rune could lock up just about anything¡ªa pickle jar, a wild beast, or even a catastrophe-grade monster. He shuddered. Great, he thought, they probably bottled up some nonsense that would eat me the first chance it got.

    As the mystery sank in, his rational thought dissolved, replaced by a slow, seething fury. Whoever had dared seal something in him would pay.

    As the thoughts turned the cogs inside his mind, his rational thinking quickly turned into hate. Hate for the person who tried to seal something of his.

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    With the hate fueling his fury, his eyes lost their ashen white luster, it was replaced with an eerie purple glow, and he looked menacing under darkness that was brought by the setting sun.

 Chapter 90 Of course, something had to happen

    Judge sat down for a moment, the hatred he could have easily controlled was stirring up inside him. He did not know the reason, but he knew something was abnormal.He felt as if he was swimming in a raging sea with uncontrollable waves, he had no way of getting out of the large waves that reached almost fifty meters in height.

    As Judge was trying his hardest to get out of the predicament, he was hit with another wave and was sent underwater, having lost his strength to fight back against the waves, he slowly fell deeper into the deep ocean''s depth, with darkness swallowing him.

    Judge tried to stay awake, but he slowly lost consciousness. He fell to the floor, gasping for breath and clutching his chest tightly. He could feel his heart beating heavily and rapidly, he heard someone, a female voice, shouting before he lost consciousness. Was it his mother? He had no way to know.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex was lying on his wife''s lap, she slowly caressed his head, firmly pulling back strands of his red hair which definitely had seen better days. "Why don''t you ever wash your hair properly?"

    Eleyn did not care a thing about his hair, but she still felt uncomfortable to see strands of uncombed hair sticking out. Alex used to be a classic playboy when he was young, he rows of women standing behind him, but Eleyn had already been betrothed to him as his fianc¨¦ when she was eighteen and he was twenty.

    thinking back, there were many instances of her beating the living daylight out of him because he decided to go around and first with other girls since their engagement was a secret.

    She started to reminisce about their old time at the Royal School of ethercraft and the Eldris University for the Study of Principles.

    But her reminiscing could not last long as her spirit quickly came to her and materialized into a small, winged globe of orange-yellow light. "Judge''s seal became undone!" the spirit shouted in Eleyn''s voice, but it was less mature and more childish.

    Eleyn and Alex were alarmed, she immediately got up¡ª knocking Alex, who was on her lap, down to the floor. He got up just as quickly as he kissed the floor.

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    Without wasting any more time, both rushed towards Judge''s room, they had no time waste whatsoever.

    Eleyn and Alex ran quite fast as the only thing visible about themselves were two blurry figures and a few afterimages, with the air around them moving away from their path. The hall was large, but there were many twists and turns, but did not seem to mind the turns as they never slowed down at a turn. There were blue and yellow electric currents behind them as they ran

    Finally, when they reached in front of Judge''s room, they stopped their sprint abruptly without even slowing down before. The sudden stop made the wind around them flutter in a storm of fury. But both of them did not mind it as Eleyn opened the door to Judge''s room.

    She saw the scene of Judge clutching his heart and falling to the gold and white marble floor. His face turned to look at them, the eerie purple glow in his eyes made him look menacing.

    She shouted in an unknown tongue as she hurried towards him, she knew that the situation would only worsen as time passed.

    Alex just stood at the door, he had no other job to do. Runes were in the domain of his wife''s expertise, without much to do, he closed the door and took out a few black darts¡ª they were so dark that they did not even reflect light.

    With a swift, smooth motion, Alex sent the darts flying¡ª one towards each surface of the room. Judge''s room was immediately enclosed in a barrier, from the outside, it looked as if nobody was there.

    Eleyn took out her pouch from behind a flower embroidery on her dress and her eyes scanned the tiny opening. After a brief second, she quickly pulled out a card that was squirming with black and golden colors.

    "I will seal his intense emotions, are you sure it is the best thing?" Eleyn turned to her husband and asked in a hurry.

    Judge started to move a little, there was a creepy, ethereal voice coming from him. "Deus... Meminisse... Destructio..." His parents did not have the luxury to listen to what he was saying, they absolutely would have if the situation was more in their favor, but a single word caught their ears¡ª "...Abyssus".

    The word spread deep chills down their bones, as if it was the most dangerous thing on the planet, even more than the gods.

    "It could be for the best, we will soon find a way to remove it," Alex answered calmly, as if to ease her tension, he would bear any problems that arise.

    His mother grew a blade from her thump that glowed with a silver luster, she used it to cut her index finger, but there was no blood from the cut.

    A golden colored liquid started to appear on where she had cut herself. Looking back at her husband and getting his approval again via a nod, she put the golden and black card on the floor and wrote another sealing rune, she was chanting something in an unknown language the whole time she was drawing the rune.

    She only drew the rune on the far edge of the card, and in the center, she drew another rune¡ª it was of two circles intertwined with each other. After finishing it, she tore the card in half, splitting the intertwined circles right in the middle.

    Keeping the half with the sealing rune on her son''s chest, right above his beating heart, and keeping the other half above her heart, she shouted, "SEAL!" Her voice boomed through the entire room, but no sound escaped the barrier put up by Alex.

    The ethereal murmurs quieted down, and so did any sound in the room. Eleyn panted and fell, and Alex swiftly caught her and helped her to lie on the floor. He then scooped up his youngest son and laid him on his bed.

    Making sure Judge was comfortable, Alex raised his hand and all the darts flew back to his palm, he stored them inside his dark navy blazer. He then turned his attention toward Eleyn who was lying on the floor.

    He took her up in his arms and teleported back into his quarters, the only reason he did not teleport before was because he was in a state of panic. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He sighed, it was not the first time he had panicked, but it had been a long time since he had panicked to this extent, maybe it was a panic stemming from the worry for his child. For the first time in a while, he experienced what it was like to be more emotional than rational.

    "Don''t worry, everything will be alright in due course," He whispered in Eleyn''s ears after he had laid her down on their bed.

    Alex''s gaze shifted to the pocket where he usually kept his cigar box, but his wife had already snatched them. What a pity, He thought, I really wanted a puff.

 Chapter 91 The super edgy assassin

    Noel narrowed his gaze as he watched the ballroom from a distance, standing atop the tallest clock tower in Limdon. Bright golden lights spilled out from the glass windows above the second floor, painting a silhouette of the glass panes on nearby structures.The open window from an unlit room caught his eyes, some partying guest might have forgotten to close it after going there for some fresh air. His hands went behind his back to check if the knife was secure.

    He double-checked his pouch if he had everything, a catalyst, a teleport rune, some smoke bombs, everything checked. This was a great gig, and he only had one shot at it.

    He checked his pocket watch and put it away, he then walked to the very edge of the platform, raised both his hands, and allowed himself to fall by leaning forward slightly.

    The place returned to silence, with the golden bell reflecting the blue half moon from its smooth surface.

    Suddenly, a fluttering of wings could be heard, and soon, a dark figure followed. Noel, like a bat, flew towards the open window that he had seen earlier. The sound of his wings was light, one could only hear it if they were close to him.

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    Noel came and perched on the windowsill, ready to jump out and escape in case of any anomalies. His eyes scanned the dark room, the moon''s illumination was not much, but he had the ability to see in the dark.

    Making sure there were no dangers, he got down to the room and tapped his forehead twice. In an instant, he was covered in a veil of darkness, and when it lifted after a few seconds, his entire attire had gone from a cloaked commoner to that of an aristocrat.

    He wore a long black tailcoat with a matching vest and a white shirt, his trousers were also block in color. He lifted his left hand and a silver inlaid black cane appeared in his hands.

    Lifting his other hand to his head, a black top hat appeared with another veil of darkness over his deep green hair which quickly changed into dark blue. As the last piece of disguise, he closed his eyes and opened them, and in place of his emerald green eyes, there were two blue jewel-like eyes.

    With the disguise in place, he quickly walked in through the door, concealing himself.

    Meanwhile, in front of a grand door, two people in tight and congested white uniforms stood guard. They both held an ether-pressured rifle with a sharp tip and two identical short swords.

    It was the office of a knight family''s head, and he was having a confidential meeting with many important figures. The host inside that room was Noel''s main target.

    In Eldris, there was only a single noble house for each race, and there are many other aristocratic families who are under these nobles¡ª they were called knight families, and they served as vassals for the nobles who represented their respective races before the king.

    The commoners referred to the Knight family heads as "Sir" and the noble family heads as "Lord". But people of equal footing usually called each other by their family name.

    Only a few knight families held as much authority as the nobles, and they were the knights who served under the royal family, Noel''s target was a knight under the king.

    Noel, in his concealed state, did not dare make any move and waited patiently for the meeting to end. He had planned the assassination with a lot of information and preparation.

    A long time passed as Noel''s waiting bore fruit, the nobles and knights left the place without any hurry and went to the ballroom to take part in the rest of the party. The host was yet to leave as he had to clean up the aftermath of their meeting, it was a short work.

    But there was another reason why he did not leave, and that was what Noel was after. He phased through the walls as if he were a ghost, he was following a man who broke away from the rest of the group on the pretext of going to the toilet.

    The man looked exactly the same as Noel after the transformation, with blue hair and eyes, a lean nose, and sharp lips. Even the attire of both were the same.

    Noel waited in the nearest washroom like a ghost, it was cleaner and brighter than many lower middle-class houses, and the gray gradient marble floor was shimmering.

    Soon, the man with blue hair, his first target, came into the washroom and stood there, thinking about whether to go inside a toilet or whether his actions had been enough to fool everyone, he decided to go inside a closet just to be sure.

    He got in and closed the door, but as soon as he did, he dropped dead without a sound, and from a shadow on the wall, his body double emerged, it was Noel.

    Noel searched the man''s pocket for a brooch, and he soon found it. After searching his whole body for anything of value, he found a few notes of sten, a gun, and a small container with bullets.

    After counting the notes, he put the ninety Sten away in his wallet, the amount was not much compared to the status of the man he had killed, but there was no need to carry so much cash to a party either.

    The money value was quite simple, the "Nen" had the least value, ten notes of Nen would become a "Sen", and ten notes of Sen would become a "Sten". Rich people often did not carry around much cash, since you could just write a cheque, cheques were bound to a person and no other could write in them.

    Shadows started to emerge from underneath the corpse, dark tentacles started to wrap themselves around the dead man. They slowly dragged him inside the darkness underneath him, and the corpse vanished, sinking into the floor.

    Soon after, Noel, now impersonating the blue-haired noble, went to the office of the knight family head and showed the two guards his brooch, "Mr. Hallan! You sure took your sweet time." The knight family head said as soon as he walked in. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Sorry Mr. Sershaw, I had to be sure."

    "Never mind that, let''s get down to business, shall we?"

    "Yes Sir."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge slowly opened his eyes, He had escaped to his studio with just his soul when he noticed something was wrong with his emotions. And he had seen what his father and mother did to his body.

    Judge was no longer angry, no... he did not feel anything, it was as if his heart had gone hollow.

    He understood what was happening, his emotions were sealed in order for him to "not go out of control". His mother only intended to seal his emotions when they were intense, but accidentally, all of his emotions were sealed. She did that under a lot of unnecessary pressure, Judge thought calmly.

    He could get a redo of his seal if he acted emotionless, but this was for the better. He could be rational in all situations. He had to act as if he still had some emotions.

 Chapter 92 Sherlock Holmes? No, different series

    "Sir Sershaw and Lord Hallan are both dead inside Sir Sershaw''s office!"The news spread like wildfire, the guest had asked why he did not come out of the room even after a long time, and the guards, who said that they had strict orders to not let anyone in and blocked anyone from entering, were the primary suspects for the disappearance.

    Not only were they missing, but the entire office was rummaged. The safe was broken and all the valuables were missing, including several documents of both internal and external affairs.

    "It is not just an ordinary assassination or theft." A blonde man was talking to himself as he examined the crime scene. He wore a neatly ironed hunter-green frock coat. He had a connected mustache with the rest of the beard neatly shaved.

    The police had sealed off the room and were in the process of investigating. "Any clues, Detective Hawke?" A young man in a police uniform came to the blonde detective who was now kneeling in front of the corpse on a chair. He was a rookie who had only joined a week back. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The uniform was a combination of high-waist trousers and a tailored long coat with high collars. They were in mixed colors of deep blue and charcoal black with strips of burgundy separating the colors. There was also a flat hat with an insignia with a symbol of two short knives crossing through a cogwheel.

    "This body of Lord Hallan was moved onto the chair after being killed somewhere else, probably not in this room." His voice was calm and collected.

    "How do you know?" The young police asked.

    "Well Mister Heiser, for starters, the body died quickly without any actions, and the other body was killed with a knife to the heart. Both died without knowing how, so there is a high chance that both died at the same time, otherwise, there would be resistance. Stay updated via My Virtual Library Empire

    "But have a good look at the body, there is a sign of injury on the back of his head as if he was knocked out. But the injury is too small for a knockout, so he fell on the floor and the killer moved him here to the chair."

    "Then why do you think the body died somewhere else?" Heiser examined the head injury on the body which was barely visible.

    "That''s where my explanation about both dying at the same time comes into play," He smiled wryly and walked over to the body of Knight Sershaw, and pointed at the knife wound on his chest. "Do you feel the residue ether?"

    Heiser promptly nodded at the words of the detective. However he still did not understand what he was implying and was confused, but he could feel the ether, he was an elf and was sensitive to it.

    Seeing the young man nod Detective Hawke continued, "There are no wounds on the body of Lord Hallan, which means he was killed via ether and Sir Sershaw was killed with an ether-manipulated knife. Normally, this would have been seen as both died at the same time, but the killer had missed the timing a bit.

    "The residue ether on Lord Hallan''s body is gone while the residue ether on Sir Sershaw''s body remains, which means both were killed at different times." He paused to let the youth absorb all of this information.

    Heiser looked at the detective for a moment, his eyes were that of a man who was thinking deeply about something. After a while, his eyes widened as he realized something, "If both were killed at different times, then one should try to fight back and make noise, which would attract the guard''s attention.

    "This means that Sir Sershaw, who was killed later, did not know that Lord Hallan was killed!" He exclaimed, "And that means Lord Hallan was killed somewhere else."

    "Correct." Hawke gave him a light clap, "Now let me paint you the full picture, that I have collected till now.

    "Lord Hallan was killed somewhere else, and the killer should have the means to move a corpse, there are two options for it, one is necromancy while the other is by using a dimensional principle. It should be the latter since the former needs time and a ritual, teleportation is out of the question since there is a barrier set up.

    "The killer was able to get in after killing Lord Hallan, and the guards say that they saw Lord Hallan entering the office, so the killer should be using a transformation principle."

    After explaining all this Hawke turned around and went to question the guests who were told to stay back While they were nobles, they all knew better than to be arrogant when an investigation was going on and to listen to the police. They did not dare to offend the king who led the whole empire''s police force.

    He approached them and started to question them nicely and politely, "Hello, I am Felix Hawke, many of you might know me and many might not, I am an official Detective and work directly under the king''s orders. Now I ask for your cooperation for the questions I am about to ask..."

    Heiser watched as the detective left the room, and focused his attention on the knife wound on Sir Sershaw''s chest. The residue ether was slowly dissipating, a police officer used an artifact to collect a few of the ether. The artifact looked like a small transparent globe filled with crimson blood.

    There were many ways to identify similar ethers, but if one used a dispensible catalyst, it was impossible to find the culprit. This was also the reason why the catalyst markets were closely monitored, but there were still many underground supplies.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was drinking a glass of wine after his big gig, he sat in the underground bar where the assassins were located. They were a group who killed people for money, most of them knew that they were not living a nice life, but they needed money.

    But Noel, on the other hand, was rich, and he killed people for the thrill. It was not because he liked killing, but because he felt like his life was boring and took up challenges, he did not mind if he died in the process.

    There was a notice board on the wall where any new mission would be posted, he eyed the board for some time, missions for assassination would only amount to at most five missions a day, but most would taken the moment they were posted, only the difficult ones remained, and Noel always looked for something difficult.

    As he was waiting, a new mission was posted on the board, and many rushed to take a look at it, but all of them turned back defeated after they saw the mission.

    Noel smiled, his new mission had come.

 Chapter 93 When dad catches you red-handed before you even start

    Judge was eating a weird soup, "weird" might not be the right word. It looked like a normal soup, it smelled normal, it tasted normal, the meat and the vegetable chunks were normal, and even his tummy said it was normal.But there was something amiss, he felt as if something indescribable was happening to his whole body. It was the first time he had eaten this soup, Lediya had also warned that his body might feel different before he started the consumption.

    Even though the feeling was weird and different, he did not hate it, he felt as if he was being rejuvenated bit by bit every time he ate a spoonful. In no time, he had finished the entire soup.

    The taste was nothing to write him about, but he felt like he had eaten another Worrak steak.

    After the meal, Lediya instructed him to get some rest because of the soup''s efforts. If he was still in his old life, he would not even have touched such a soup made by his maid, he only trusted his own cooking, and of course¡ª his former friend''s too.

    But Lediya was different, she could not even step inside his room without his mother noticing her, and if anything was wrong, his mother would know.

    He leaned back to sleep more after he watched his maid leave. But before he could leave, there was a figure again on an open windowsill in his room, but this time, he knew who it was, it was his father, Alex Drakonis.

    Without uttering a word, his father came closer to him, dragging the chair he took from near Judge''s study desk. He put the chair near his son''s bed and sat on it, staring at Judge for a whole minute without even saying anything.

    Judge should have been uncomfortable, but he felt nothing, instead he just wanted to lie back down and sleep.

    "Judge"

    His father finally spoke, his voice was low and felt more forced than natural. Judge understood that his father had caught onto something, but he could not put his finger on what, he had many secrets to count.

    "What?" He finally responded with the same, calm voice his father used.

    "Do you trust me?"

    "Yes"

    "Do you trust your mother?"

    "Yes"

    "Your siblings?" sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Yes," He felt nothing from lying to his father about trusting his siblings. if anything, he only found them useful. Judge understood what his father was getting at, it was to talk about his sealing and why.

    "Why are you lying, Judge?" His father asked in the same monotonous tone.

    Judge was wrong, but he was not surprised, he could read a hundred strangers, but he could never read what his father was thinking, never. Even an educated guess was wrong.

    He looked at his legs which were covered by blankets, why was he lying? Maybe he was not lying. Maybe he trusted his siblings but never wanted to admit it. Maybe he liked them, grew fond of them. He was not lying to his father, but to himself.

    He was not thinking emotionally, he did not feel an ounce of love for them, maybe that was because he now had a seal over his heart. Just then, a thought struck him, he wanted to experience that feeling again, the feeling of being loved and loving others.

    He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out of his mouth. It was not like he could not speak, but he did not know what to say.

    "I ask you again Judge, Do you or Do you not... Trust me." His father''s voice was still nonchalant, but he turned up the volume a little in the middle of the sentence.

    "I... I trust you... Dad, it''s just... I don''t know what to say or... where to start." He could have talked normally, but this was pure acting, he felt like this was how he had to say it.

    "Judge you are only four years old, and life is still there to live, dragons live for almost two centuries Judge, you have a great life ahead of you," Alex held Judge''s hand tightly, "That''s why, you should not let your mind be your cage."

    ''I am fifty-eight plus four years old Dad'' He silently added. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

    "Tell me honestly, Judge, you don''t feel anything do you?"

    Judge''s eyes widened, how did his father figure him out

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel looked up to the notice board, every assassin inside the building wore a mask, and his mask, a plain white mask with two hollow holes for eyes, was a symbol of fear. People moved away from his path, nobody dared to utter a word, and that was what a strong reputation could do.

    He slowly walked over to the notice board and looked over to the newly posted assassination request. It was to assassinate a noble''s daughter, the young mistress of the most powerful and feared noble house of all time. The reward was a thousand sten.

    This was going to be the most dangerous mission he had undertaken. His face had a fixed smile, and grew wider, if not for the mask hiding his face, people would think the man had really gone mad.

    He tore off the parchment from the board and took it to the bar. Slamming it on the counter, he said in a low, hoarse voice, "I take this commission," With that, he turned around and left at a leisurely pace.

    The onlookers all held back their voices as they let the man walk to the door, he paused right before he reached the door, came back to his table, and finished his drink in a single gulp.

    He then left at a normal pace, and only after he had completely left the place did chatters erupt, "Doesn''t that look impossible?" One asked.

    "Yes that is surely not possible, but how many times have we said the same thing?"

    "True! He even assassinated the general of the second royal army." Another man said.

    "But this commission is for the house of drakonis! They are the wyverns! That is harder than infiltrating the second royal army, they could instantly catch you when you try to sneak in."

    The whole place went silent, as if they were pondering what the man was about to do.

    "Amber huh?" Noel was talking to himself, remembering the picture on the commission parchment of a girl with red hair and golden eyes "I am sorry little girl, I''ve got nothing against you, but someone wants you dead."

    From the shadows, a lonely figure was watching him, he was not visible to the naked eye. Lucifer, looked at the man walking forward with excitement a look full of pity, "He doesn''t know where he is going does he?"

    He wanted to report the matter to the observer, but the assassin was after the sibling of a god''s descended. He felt stupid for even feeling the need to report, he would just hand over the record to the observer at the next gathering.

 Chapter 94 When your mother runes your emotions

    Judge looked over to his father, feigning surprise. He did not want to act surprised, but it was a natural reaction, so he felt like he had to."You do not feel any emotions do you?" His father repeated his question, his voice dropped to an alarmingly low point between "I feel like I should be angry" and "I am angry but I don''t want to show it because I am too angry". But of course, he obviously was not angry at his son because of a mistake his wife made, he was not angry at anyone.

    Judge gulped a saliva that his mouth seemed to be producing too much, he did not know the reason why.

    The room was enveloped by silence for a short while, not seeing Judge answer, his father decided to take the initiative. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You might think that this is a good thing, Judge. You might take this as an opportunity... you would think that this is how you can reach your best potential, your optimum self.

    But just stop for a moment and think, you think you are the most rational now right? Just think for a while with that rational brain of yours."

    He paused, as if he was letting Judge think about what he just said, but he was a hundred percent sure Judge did not know what to think of. He continued after a while, "Judge... You think you''ve protected yourself when your heart was sealed, but trust me, the bravest thing you can do is feel.

    "We''re meant to feel, to love, and to hurt. Don''t let fear rob you of the richness of life that comes from feeling deeply... If I could go back, I''d tell my younger self to embrace every tear and every laugh¡ª those moments are what make us whole.

    "Emotions don''t make you weak, so trust others more. Of course, you should not trust people so easily, trust is not something that should happen overnight, you should first learn what kind of person they are, and what are they hiding behind that mask.

    "You are my son, so I know you can do it. Now let''s see your mother shall we, you need to re-seal your emotions, it is a wonderful thing to be able to feel."

    Judge felt himself smile unknowingly, he felt no interest or understanding of the meaning behind his words. But he knew, deep in his mind, what he said was absolutely the truth, his master, Seraphis, had told him this before.

    Judge got up from his bed, why was he lying there anyway, because his made said so? He did not ponder on that question and followed his father as they both were teleported by him to a room Judge had never entered before.

    It was his father''s bedroom, the floor was filled with patterned marbles of black, white and gold. The windows, unlike most rooms, were closed, with the red curtains tucked to the sides. The balcony was open, and beside the small tea table, leaning on a chair, was his mother.

    She got up as soon as she saw him, ran to him, and hugged him tightly. He did not feel the need to hug her back, but his body felt the need to hug back and smile.

    "Just go there and lie down," she pointed him to a sofa after letting him go from her hug. "I will finish this quickly, I had not taken any catalysts yesterday and depleted most of my own ether, runes are that taxing." She fished out a gold and black card with both the colors churning without mixing and also a purple jewel from her pouch.

    Long ago, Judge had read about the researcher who made principle for nihility carried something for dimensional storage and it ate away at his life. So he had inquired his mother about the side effects of her artifacts, and she just laughed at him and said there was no serious effects.

    Judge thought about what his mother just said about runes consuming vast amounts of ether as he went toward the green sofa to lie down. Being a powerful entity even among the dragons, she definitely had ether reserves extremely immense, and if just two runes could almost deplete them, how taxing are runes?

    He lay down and closed his eyes, waiting for his mother to open the seal and re-seal his intense emotions instead of all of his emotions. He did not even feel bored, rather, it was just a hollow experience, nothing stimulated his brain.

    Eleyn chanted something under her breath and drew the rune for sealing on the leftmost edge of the card, and then she drew two intertwined circles at the center before tearing the card in half and going to judge.

    She put the half with the sealing rune on his chest and the other half on her chest, drawing ether from the purple catalyst she had taken out before, she chanted two words, "Seal" and "Bind", she said both at the same time, it felt as if there were two Eleyns screaming.

    The two halves of the card flashed quickly and then nothing happened, but Eleyn''s face said "Mission complete". She held the two cards together and burned them, they were the cards used for sealing previously.

    "Let''s head to the docks at noon after Judge recovers, You are going with Amber right?" Eleyn turned to Alex, panting, she was clearly exhausted and needed to lie down. Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire

    "Yes." Alex''s eyes scanned for cigars, but they were not there. "Not my cigars!"

    Eleyn''s uplifted mood quickly came tumbling back down, it was clear that she hated cigars. "You are lucky I am exhausted right now." She gave him a sharp look before heading to bed in order to lie down.

    The slightly frustrated Alex slowly rose from his seat, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before heading out into the hallway. He carefully closed the door behind him, making a mindful effort to keep the noise to a minimum so he wouldn''t disturb his wife and son, who were peacefully sleeping inside the room.

    He then headed to his father''s office to get some cigars from him. The payment for it would be to hear an earful of advice on his lousy behavior and how great his father was when "he was Alex''s age". He sighed like Judge do.

    "What a drag." He said to the empty hallway.

 Chapter 95 When you want to feel nostalgic but you just cant

    "...ge!...udge!...Judge!...Judge!" Judge could hear someone calling him frantically. It was a female voice, but it was not his mother, not Clio either.He slowly opened his eyes. They felt heavy, as if he had not slept for ages, but he still felt refreshed after he completely opened them. He did not want to go back to sleep and was itching to release this pent-up energy somewhere. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He looked at whoever was calling his name. It was his sister, Amber. Oh! Didn''t she leave? Or was it today? He thought about it immediately. If she had not yet left, then it must mean that it''s still not noon.

    He looked outside, the sun was looming over the horizon, waiting to be set to rest after a long day of shiny work.

    "It''s evening." He calmly said to his sister, he knew most other forms of talk would only get her mad, his best option was to act defenseless.

    After hearing her brother speak, Amber''s whole worry and anger melted. She could only look at his current state in awe. He feels so... Defenseless. She covered her mouth with both her hands.

    "Why are you looking at me like I am a terminally ill patient about to die?"

    Ok! I take that back, he never feels so defenseless. She went in and gave him a hug, much to Judge''s discomfort, he tried to push her away, but she held on.

    "Let him go Amber you are not giving him space to breathe." Liam materialized behind her, and she jumped in surprise. Thank you, Liam. You are the big brother I need. Judge silently thanked his brother.

    "Don''t do that!" Amber shouted.

    "Do what?"

    "For god''s... for someone''s sake, make some noise when you walk! You are as silent as a wraith, and wraiths are scary." The entire family of Drakonis were too prideful to bow to the gods.

    Liam laughed, and seeing him, Judge also laughed. Amber, seeing as two of her younger siblings were making fun of her, pursed her lips and went out the door. And that was when Judge noticed that he was in his room, lying in his bed.

    Liam wiped a tear off after laughing enough and sat in the empty chair beside Judge''s bed that Amber had sat on before she left.

    "Don''t hate her because she''s clingy," He gave Judge a bright and enthusiastic smile, which was as unsettling as Clio''s smile. "I hate her being clingy, but I don''t hate her as a person, And I love her deeply as a sibling."

    Why are you telling me this? Judge wanted to ask, but what came out of his mouth was a "Hmmm" with a light nod.

    "So the thing is," his brother continued.

    "Thing is?"

    "The thing is that... Oh, shoot I forgot what I was about to say."

    "Are you an idiot on purpose?" Amber came in through the white double door, pushing a tray cart that was almost as tall as her. It was Judge''s food, and Lediya came in behind her and bowed at them from the door.

    "I will explain because this idiot of a wraith called ''Liam'', seems to be quite forgetful." She seemed to be unnecessarily proud after she just said that. "I postponed my trip until two days later because you and Mother would not wake up. It was Grandpa''s idea though."

    "Mhm," Judge nodded but he was more interested in the food, "Is it Worrak?" He could not hide his excitement.

    "No, it''s roasted mutton with side salad," Lediya answered, and seeing his face going from excitement to uninterested, she quickly told him the reason why there was no steak today. "Worrak that was to be killed today suddenly died of unknown causes."

    "Unkown causes huh." Judge got down from his bed in his plain navy pajamas and got to the table, he usually ate while on the sofa, but today he felt like eating from where he was supposed to eat.

    Liam and Amber both went around him and got seated right beside his chair, and Lediya served food for all three of them, which amazed Judge since he ate alone when he was in his room, and talking was not allowed when they were eating together.

    Judge laughed without care together with his siblings for the first time in both his life, it was a wonderful experience that his past self had longed for, to be able to spend time with people whom he could trust enough to turn his back on in a fight.

    A shadowy figure was watching them all eat, he smiled at how his children laughed together. It was a wonderful feeling he had ever longed for, to see his young copies laugh together.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was surveying the gigantic mansion, it was still morning so he did not dare to get inside or act suspicious. This was the house of the strongest noble family of the wyverns, the Drakonis family, and his job was to execute the young mistress named Amber Drakonis who had just turned turn a few months back.

    He knew that when children turned ten, they would head to any of the schools. But it would only make his target hard to kill.

    From the escort to even the dorms, the security was strong and immaculate, and he was not confident in a direct confrontation. So his best bet was to kill her while she was still inside the house.

    Today, he was surveying the outer area of the castle walls, taking mental notes of the guards stationed, to everyone watching, he looked like a tourist.

    He observed a half of the wall before heading to a restaurant to grab some food, he had checked when their shift was for the past week, and the timings were also done seriously, new shifts would arrive at the designated time and take over the post. It was just like the guards stationed around the city walls and the port. No other place, except the capital, had this much tight of a security.

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    Makes you wonder what kind of secrets are held within the house of the famous wyverns. Noel thought calmly.

    All the guard towers had bells and a roof above to protect them from direct sunlight and rain.

    After making sure the time was enough for the shift to change, he slowly finished his meals, paid a couple of Nens extra as a tip, and headed back out to finish his survey of the rest of the castle walls.

    Surveying the castle walls might seem unnecessary, but he was more careful if anything. After all, he did not live this long without being careful.

 Chapter 96 Intimidate the new guy, the usuals in workplace

    It was nighttime, and Judge was sleeping soundly in his bed without a care about the world. What was afraid of, after all, his supervision was lifted, and nobody came to check up on him at night whether he was trying to escape.There were two newly assigned guards just outside his room who were keeping watch, they swore their loyalty only to him, they would not take orders from the lord of dragons and his grandfather knew that very well.

    Unlike most guards, they did not wear any black armor armor with shiny patterns of silver. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    They wore tight, black blazers with a navy wool shirt that covered their neck. They had a gray furry capelet with a short, brown side cape that covered their left arm entirely. Man talk about no sense of color.

    All of the sworn guards were masters at the sleepless principle that let them only need to sleep for about two hours every three weeks.

    Both the young guards who, unpopular opinion, totally looked inexperienced, were guarding their mast who still did not know their without sleep. Judge, on the other hand, had gone off to the studio with just leaving a small amount of his own ether inside the body.

    Asmodeus and Gabriel both looked at the new member, Satan, who was yet to be seated. They did not know his name and title yet, so they were excited to know whether he was a virtue or a sin, and since sins were more in number, both expected him to be a virtue.

    "This" Judge pointed his arm at Finn, who now was called Satan, the sin of wrath. Immediately, he was teleported without a sound to the seat beside Asmodeus.

    Judge continued with his introduction, "Is Satan, the sin of wrath."

    Gabriel was obviously disappointed, but he did not dare utter a word.

    "Welcome to the recorders, Satan," Lucifer spoke, his voice was calm as always. Even faced with a terrifying existence to whom he had no choice but to yield. "I will do the explaining in place of Master Observer.

    "Your job would be to record any scene you see that you think has value. When a gathering is called, you present those recordings to our master. You now have two identities, one is your normal person in your daily life, and the other one is as a member of the recorders.

    "Always keep in mind that you never reveal your face to people when you are a recorder, and never reveal your mask to people when you are in your normal self. If you follow all correctly, you in turn get unimaginable power."

    Power, Satan repeated in his mind. What he needed the most was now power, the power to take revenge against the church that took everything away from him.

    With the introductions in place, the three existing members stood up, followed by the nervous Satan who was worried whether he would get kicked out for being a complete idiot even before he even got the chance to carry on with his revenge.

    After a slight bow, which Satan again imitated, they all sat down. After the process was over, everyone (Excluding the new guy of course) quickly transferred the recording they had taken.

    Putting everything else away for later, Judge started with Asmodeus'' recordings, specifically with the first prince, Renald.

    Judge scanned through many recordings of his life, not even avoiding any private moments. It was not because he had a fetish for men, but he did not want to miss any moments when the prince could do things like exchange messages.

    But all of them were up to no avail, Judge suspected that his intuitions were wrong. But he still pressed on to see everything he had been doing up until today. He saw all of the actions of the prince secretly heading to the bar and the brothel. In fact, he saw it enough times that he understood most of the alleyways and shortcuts near the royal palace in the capital.

    Judge continued to watch until he fell upon a slightly fishy scene¡ª Prince Renald was writing, yes the degenerate was writing, but he could not see what was being written, nothing was appearing on the paper that he wrote, and it felt thicker than most papers.

    But Judge was not worried, he knew Asmodeus well enough to know that she would follow the letter instead of being stuck with the first prince.

    Prince Renald ordered his made for a cup of specially-made coffee and it was to be served by the one who made it. And soon enough, a maid came in through the door without knocking and she handed the tray to the prince who was standing on the balcony.

    Quickly finishing the coffee, the prince secretly took out a folded piece of paper which somehow felt less thicker compared to before, but Judge just brushed it off as his imagination. He swiftly put the paper on the tray and put his cup over it. "The sugar should be reduced." He complained.

    The maid bowed slightly and left without a word, that might have been a code. As Judge had expected, Asmodeus followed the maid instead of staying with the prince.

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    Like any secret messenger, the maid "adjusted the glass" in the hallway. Judge paused it saw rewatched it slower, and as expected, she had taken the letter.

    She then carried it into the kitchen and was comforted by the other maid for having to endure the first prince.

    How much of a hate object was he for women? Judge almost felt sorry for the first prince, almost.

    After casually conversing with the other people inside the kitchen and doing her job as a maid, she then volunteered to take out the trash and burn it.

    Following her outside, Judge saw her take out the letter and open it, it was empty as expected. But beating Judge''s expectations, the maid threw the letter into the fire along with the rest of the trash.

 Chapter 97 Wow! More secrets!... Ouch! More headache!

    So many explanations formed inside Judge''s mind after watching what the maid had just done, one explanation was that the letter was not the prince''s and she burned another letter to distract any onlookers.Another more plausible explanation was that the letter written in invisible ink was quickly understood by the maid and she burned it immediately, which seemed more like it.

    Judge turned the scene back and looked at the letter carefully, but there was nothing but a white, blank paper. He tried to look from different angles, but still nothing. Finally, he decided to try it from the maid''s angle, he looked at her and drew a deep breath. Enjoy exclusive chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

    Slowly, his ghostly self phased through her face and his eyes stopped exactly where her eyes stood. Now, Judge looked at the letter closely... still nothing, he tried squinting his eyes and blurring his vision, but nothing worked.

    Judge gave up, there was no way he was getting info out of that blank canvas, it was like trying to win a World War with a custom made rifle that took too long to load and didn''t shoot.

    He moved on to the next actions of the prince, which too were entirely ordinary. After learning a couple more alleyway shortcuts and a few new brothels, Judge finished all of the recordings the Asmodeus took.

    He then moved on to Gabriel, after all, he did not want to miss anything about the church that seemed to be planning something. He had received news that twenty or so people suddenly exploded and died, the news was spread by the church of the god of night, and they took it upon themselves to investigate.

    But Judge knew who the real culprit was, so he was amazed at how sincere they were in lying while they were representing their god¡ª not that he expected the followers of Tenebris to be good people who did law-abiding things and definitely not kill people.

    Without wasting any more time and with his enhanced cognition firing on all cylinders, Judge started to look through the secret recordings of the church''s heinous crimes. But then, something snapped, Judge''s pain receptors started to function energetically as if they had been suppressed up until now.

    Judge started to feel a throbbing headache, an intense pressure that seemed to wrap around his skull. It''s as if a heavy weight has been placed on his head, squeezing tightly. His head felt a sharp jolt of rhythmic pain as he tried to think.

    He wanted to scream, but he was still sitting in front of his people. Taking up his whole strength, he stood up and declared the end of today''s gathering. "That would be it for today, you all did well and Lucifer, teach Satan the ropes."

    Without waiting to hear their responses, Judge waved them off to be on their way. They all bowed slightly before Teleporting out of the studio.

    Judge held clasped his head, and moving his hand towards the temples, he gently massaged them. He felt relieved from his pain bit by bit, letting him think more clearly.

    Why did I feel a headache?

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was nighttime in Wistmere, the second largest city in the Kingdom, second only to the capital. Covering over 700 square kilometers and comprised of five boroughs, it boasts an impressive population of approximately 4.6 million. This figure may actually be higher, as the survey did not account for those living outside the city walls or the daily influx of newcomers.

    The city was ruled by the Drakonis family and four of their knight families. The Brinewell borough, near the coast, was the most developed area, and the Drakonis palace was situated right in the middle.

    The crescent blue moon made little effort to light the alleyways that the street lamps failed to light. And a shadowy figure was walking towards a high building, it was a clock tower that also served as a tourist spot in the day.

    Noel stopped in front of a smooth vertical brick wall, the wall suddenly got distorted and a pitch-black portal emerged from its surface, Noel opened his pocket watch to look at the picture inside. It was him in a tailored tailcoat standing next to his wife who was sitting on a chair.

    He gave a slight smile before putting them back inside his black tuxedo, he tapped his forehead twice, making his appearance go from his original white hair to an emerald green and his Prussian blue eyes turned deep green.

    Looking at the distorted shadow portal, he took a deep breath and walked into it, turning into nothing but a shadow.

    Transforming into a human was common and nobody knew if there was a principle behind it, since everyone would be born in their human form no matter the race, and turning into their racial form was as simple as imagining it.

    Changing one''s features was different from changing into their racial form. The principle behind it was extremely complicated to even understand, and if someone did, the psyche was something else to look after.

    So the races who use such transformation magic were either the Goblins or Kitsune. They were the most intelligent races and possessed comparatively more psyche compared to other races. This principle was a rare usage even among them, because of the high psyche usage and many ways to be exposed.

    Noel sat on the top of the clock tower, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in total concentration.

    Inside the big palace, the house of Drakonis, a shadow was moving as discreetly as it could, avoiding any and all light sources. The shadow moved extremely fast, but in terms of combat, it could do nothing except vanish.

    The job of the shadow was only to scout, it was controlled by the green-haired Goblin, Noel. The shadow moved along countless corridors, rooms, and halls. But it avoided any strong presences.

    Noel manipulated the shadow until it was only a few hours until the moon set and the sun rose because the principle took very little amount of both psyche and principle. The moon only sets when the sun rises, and the sun sets when the moon rises, that was the norm in this world.

    The assassin quickly jumped down, landing gracefully with a flap of his batlike wings. Then he changed his appearance to his normal, white-haired self and walked around like a normal tourist that he was not. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 98 Why is this happening, God? Oh wait I am a god.

    The young dragon boy was sitting right on his throne and wearing an expression of utter majesty that rattled all within the room. Unfortunately, though, there was one slight flaw in this grand portrayal¡ª his face. To put it mildly, it was not in any way fitting to the ''fierce lord'' persona.Normally, he could pull off "foreboding" with ease, but thanks to the pounding headache that felt like a miniature blacksmith was practicing in his skull, he was about as intimidating as a half-baked lizard on a sleepy afternoon. And, to top it off, he''d taken his mask off. Big mistake. Now he looked less like a feared dragon prince and more like an exhausted gecko questioning all life choices.

    Judge massaged his temples yet again, hoping some mysterious force of the universe would banish the pain¡ª and maybe bring his dignity along with it. But right now, he felt like a genius on a serious brain break¡­ "A brilliant mastermind without the master... or the mind" he muttered to himself with a sigh.

    Judge waited for quite a while before his headache finally subsided, and he could finally think properly... if you could call his way of thinking "proper".

    The pain came when I was inspecting the church, but I am sure of one thing¡ª even if it is Tenebris himself, he cannot influence a skill that Clio gave me, she is of a bigger existence than himself. Thinking about it, why did he want to descend, I don''t think it was just to walk over the mortal world. And why can''t gods walk over the mortal world, didn''t Melina say that they did?

    Judge''s thoughts wandered, bringing back the throbbing pain slightly. Ahh! Fu... Judge wanted to curse, but he was against such vulgar use of beautiful language.

    Freaking headache!

    Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    But he managed it with a less vulgar use.

    He let the headache subside again before starting his pondering, he had an inkling about the origin of a dangerous headache, It must be because of the Enhanced Cognition, I used it at max speed for so long.

    In order to test his theory, Judge activated his enhanced cognition, and sure enough, his head started to ache. He quickly deactivated it, There seems to be a limit to it, of course, there should be. I am sure there are limits to both Studio as well as Script writer. I should try them both.

    Judge sat upright and decided to leave the place and head back to catch upon his sleep, tomorrow was a big day for his sister as she would be heading to Wistmere after a long delay due to the circumstances.

    His father would accompany her, but both he and Liam could not because they were not allowed to leave their hometown, Ti¨¦rmere, before they could learn to transform.

    Technically, they could learn transformation as soon as they were four and awakened their ether reserves, but all the other races awakened ether at the age of ten, so the dragon kids were only taught transformation at the age of ten, or nine under special circumstances.

    Transforming themselves into a dragon was as easy as breathing fire, but transforming into a wyvern needed the backing of some complex principle that fortunately did not drain ether like a leaky bucket the more you use it.

    All of this effort makes Judge wonder why they were so eager to conceal their identities as dragons, he had to study history for that, and he was absolutely not gonna do it. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge''s mind was full of such thoughts that he dreamt of dragons, and he dreamt of ruling over the dragons, with each one of them being under his command.

    The dream suddenly gave him a jumpscare with a familiar purple flash in the corner of his vision, he felt the same as when he had taken the black rune card with golden stars out of his body previously.

    He felt as if he could do anything, he was giving a speech to the towering dragons who were well over forty feet. He was giving them a speech, but he did not know what, at the very end of the speech, he dropped his voice to an alarmingly low "I look so menacing" type tone.

    It is time to seal the creation of destruction!

    Judge''s voice was cold enough to give himself a cold shudder¡ª he panted and woke up from his nightmare, he looked around in lingering fear.

    Panting, Judge scanned the room, it was yet to be morning, and the blue moon was looming over the horizon, it gave Judge another chill feeling all over his body. Sleep had deserted his poor self completely, so he decided to take his time to study artifacts.

    Getting down from his bed, he went over to the tea table to pick up his lamp, but stopped in front of the mirror. There, he saw it!... it was only for a brief moment, but just that brief glimpse was enough for him, the similar purple flash, his iris had turned purple before going back to his usual ashen gray eyes.

    The boy stood there in a daze, his mind was hollow, he wanted to think of what had just happened, but nothing came to his mind. After a long, tense, silence¡ª he inhaled deeply as he realized he had been holding his breath.

    He snapped back like he just awoke from a sleepwalking, and panted hard.

    What just happened?

    Judge wanted to just sit there and think for a moment,

    I got up from bed, and there seemed to be a purple glow inside my eyes. The purple glow must have been caused by the dream, there was nothing else that was out of the ordinary. But what caused the dream?

    I have never done anything notable except remove a seal that I think was suppressing my power somehow, but what did it suppress? It was definitely not my powers, my emotions seemed normal.

    Judge sighed, the more he thought about it, the more confused he became and questions flooded from every turn. He leaned back from his chair, he still had not taken the lamp, but he was sitting on his desk.

    Tomorrow night, he would head inside the studio and study the paper slip better, he got up and decided to write his diary which he had not written in the past few days. He took up his pen, and started to write in English-

    Dear dairy,

    Today, I discovered something crazy. I was using a rune to try and clean my already clean jacket...

    ...and so, I decided to trust my siblings a bit more, but I won''t go to the extent of entrusting my back to them in a battle, after all, why should I?

    He marveled at his own handwriting and wrote the final sentence he wrote under every page.

    I will come to get you, Clio.

 Chapter 99 Tis a tea party innit?

    Inside the Rivet family manor, Isadora Rivet was having a tea party with some of her acquaintances. Her black hair had been curled neatly; she liked to cut it short, but it was not appropriate for a lady. The Rivet family was not a part of any Noble factions, but they were a rich household, with her husband, Noel Rivet, running a merchant organization with a few of his friends.Her attire was thin but layered, wearing a long gown with a tight black full sleeve, the dress did so little to expose a single piece of bare skin under her neck. The attire was a mix of deep crimson and shadowy black. The outer cloth split at the front, showing a black inner layer. She had a high brow and a lean nose, her eyes were green like a deep forest, and thin lips were smeared with dark red lipstick, a pink eyeshadow beneath her eyes.

    She sipped on a Tiva tea, which came from a small country in the southeastern continent called Patriadei. The country was a popular choice for tourists due to its stunning scenery, which included green mountains and loads of hidden spots, not to mention the beach.

    "Miss Rivet, where did your husband head to this time? He was in Limdon a few days ago. Must be hard to look after a busy man." A lady in yellow gothic attire laughed lightly while covering her mouth with one hand and holding a spoon in another.

    Rivet put down her tea and smiled, "Well I do find myself lonely, but I cannot let my selfishness be in the way of his work. We were planning on a vacation, but he said the trip to Wistmere was urgent and could not be overlooked, that being said, where did you all plan for vacation?"

    Rivet was not the talkative kind, but when it came to her husband, she had no such restrictions, but she still kept true to her polite self.

    "We are headed to Berius Archipelago," Another lady in a green attire said, " I''ve never gone there, nor are there any relevant articles explaining the place, but my husband said it would be a nice breather from the city life for us and the kids."

    "Our vacation has been postponed to next month, my husband had to head to the capital for work." A lady in an elaborate purple dress said, she had a small child in her lap, and the baby was eating cookies. When the child noticed that Rivet was looking at her, she smiled and revealed a row of clear white baby teeth.

    Rivet returned her gaze to the baby''s mother, "I sure hope your husband gets less busy, where are you headed next month?"

    "My parent''s old villa, it''s near a small town called Nodespring, you might have heard it." She put the indigo ornate cup to her lips and took a sip. "We have to pass through Wistmere, so we would stay there for a couple of days."

    "Speaking about Wistmere, the young lady of the Drakonis house has turned ten," Another woman, who looked like she was in her thirties, spoke. "There will be an uproar in the Eldris Royal School, there is someone from the family of the most powerful ether users after all. My second child will be in the same batch as the young lady, I think her name was Amber."

    "Have you heard about the youngest child, he is called Judge I believe." The lady in the yellow gown spoke without much emotion, "I heard this through the maids, but that kid is always cooped up in his room and studying, such a genius, he is only four!"

    ...

    The conversation of the ladies carried on, they exchanged many interesting topics, from the newly emerging fashion trends of women wearing coats, to the old gadgets that still have not found replacements.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was checking his watch, the picture of his wife seemed to give him more strength. He was waiting for food inside a restaurant. Today was his day off, he had to be sure that nobody had noticed the presence of a shadow inside the Drakonis house.

    This time, he would not be going inside or around the palace. Instead, he would check up on places where the workers and guards from the house would often come.

    As he was waiting, the wooden door was opened with a thud, and six knights in black armor with silver patterns walked in. There was a golden and red checkered crest on their shoulders, it was of an upper body of a dragon with its wings spread and it was looking left.

    The Drakonis guards! Read latest stories on My Virtual Library Empire

    The whole place went silent, the knights were popular patrons of the shop, but people were still afraid of anyone who wore a Drakonis crest, such was the influence that the family had.

    If anyone wanted to be a knight at the House, they had to go through a strict selection process and a minimum of two months of special training afterward, there were countless youths dreaming of being a knight at the House since the pay was handsome, the starting salary was fifty stens per month.

    In comparison, the average salary of a middle-class family would be 35 stens per month.

    The knights were out of their shift after a long night, and they were here for booze, morning booze was nothing new since there were many jobs that required night shifts, and those people would go for alcohol in the morning to "Clear their head". S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel''s food was soon served, he had ordered food that would require a good time to make, it was expensive, but it was essential to be a nonsuspicious person.

    He ate slowly and waited for the knights to be completely drunk, the indicator was that they started talking.

    "Dude, yesterday was so tiring, I mean why would they not let us even sleep?" A young knight said to an older, more experienced knight.

    "It''s because you are new to this, your training still has a month to go right?" A brawny knight said, anyone could tell that he had been through quite some adventures.

    "Yeah, but why did trainees have night shifts? Is that not supposed to be your job? I mean I still have to go for training right?"

    "Your next set of training is for you to endure this, good luck lad, I''ve been there too. Waiter! Four more glasses." He shouted.

    Noel smiled, he left for the toilet after finishing his meal and went secretly to the kitchen by phasing through the walls.

    But he could not leave the place without paying, tourists are supposed to inject their own ether into a recording device, which would allow the police to locate and capture them easily if anything amiss arises, and every service needed tourists to show identifications through ether.

 Chapter 100 A Hundred Ways to Make Trouble (Noels Pick: All of Them)

    The waiter brought in four glasses of Malty Mirage beer, it was not a popular beer among common people, but people with a high resistance to alcohol usually took the wine due to its high alcoholic content. The taste was also too strong for some.But without the waiter seeing, Noel added some "Flavorings" to four glasses and quietly left back for the toilet. If anyone asked, he''d call it an ''enhancement''¡ªto the flavor.

    The small white crystals quickly dissolved as if they did not even exist. And the waiter, who did not even see anything amiss, served the specially flavored glasses of beer.

    Noel swiftly got back from his "toilet visit" and checked the bill that was placed on his table, Two sen, five nen. He pulled out his brown, leather-finished purse and took out two one-sen notes and another, smaller five nen note. Not to appear cheap and also as a habit, he also pulled out another one sen note as a tip.

    He then put the bill on the table and picked up his suitcase as if he was leaving, be just as he reached the knights, he stopped to watch them for a few seconds, just enough to get their attention.

    "Huh! What are you looking at? Never seen knights drinking?" The brawny knight turned to look at him.

    The man in a grey frock coat smiled inwardly, "My apologies" he tipped his flat hat and said, "I am a tourist, I came here to see the famous Drakonis palace and the city they rule. I was astonished at the beauty of this place which is so different from my hometown. So, I was wondering if you could say anything about inside the palace since a commoner like me cannot get inside."

    Noel made himself appear like a talkative and cheerful person in order to ease the knights from any suspicion.

    "Well..." The lean knight besides the brawny one was the one to answer, "I think you''ve come to the right place. Sit down here, you need a drink? It''s on you though."

    "Thank you valiant knights, but I had my fill, it''s not appropriate to drink again. So I will just take a seat and listen." Your journey continues on My Virtual Library Empire

    Noel put down his smooth iron suitcase and sat down, his coat hanging down the stool.

    "Let me think where to start, The Drakonis halls? A maze so twisted that even the rats carry maps!..." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Sounds like they should just install signs for the poor rodents. Noel lampooned inwardly, but continued to listen in.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Haa! What fools," Noel was happy because he had just gotten more than he needed, he now knew the rooms as well as the shift times of the guards indoors. He just needed to check if there were any anomalies within the palace yesterday, but the return was more than that.

    Sitting on top of a clock tower''s roof, Noel was again checking his watch. He looked at his wife and then closed the watch, a shadow formed on the ground near him and he threw the watch inside it.

    A mask popped up and was lifted to his arm by shadow tentacles. Slowly, his hand caught the plain, black mask with no features. Suddenly, two purple glows appeared where his eyes should be.

    Lucifer, who was endorsed in the actions of this man, suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of fear when he watched the eyes from the side. It was as if his body was screaming to bow in front of his presence... no!¡ª that existence.

    It''s the same as that woman in bandages who met Satan!

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge hugged his sister tightly, not because he wanted to, but because he had no other choice but to do it.

    After a long while, she let go. "I''ll be back in a year, but I will write to you. You should do the same," She looked at Judge who nodded out of desperation, and then she turned to her other brother whom she less dotted on than Judge. "Heard that, Liam?"

    Liam, who could care less, gave a slight nod. "I will only say that I''ll write, not how much, so expect a short letter."

    Amber did not start a fight over the length of the letter, she just moved her red hair to the back of her ear. She had a half-up, messy ponytail, there were a few strands of wavy hair at the front that were brushed to the side.

    "Come here Liam," she motioned for Liam to come forward, to which the always unconcerned Liam responded and came closer to both of them.

    Once she got both her brothers within her grasp, Amber hugged them both tightly again, like it was the last time that they were gonna see each other. "I am gonna miss you both so much. So..." She pinched Liam''s ear.

    "Ouch!"

    "Don''t make me feel lonely and write letters properly, okay?"

    "Yeah Yeah," both Liam and Judge said monotonously.

    "Okay?" She repeated, but with a little louder.

    "Yes!"

    "Good." She let both of them go and headed to the cloud weaver docked at one of the ports.

    It was Late October, and it had already started snowing. Judge watched as his father and sister climbed the steps to the giant ship that had a huge envelope with machines on the back.

    Judge took his watch and looked at the time, 6:02 in the evening, haa it''s getting cold!

    He rubbed his hands together to produce warmth. The ship let out a loud whistle as it took up into the air, the unnecessarily ornated big gangplank was removed, and the anchors were let loose.

    Anchors were the ropes used to tie cloud weavers to the port, unlike normal ship anchors. And in the late October 31, on 6:02, his sister left their house for the first time in her life.

    Wait for me, sis! I will leave the house one day too when I am ten. Judge thought inwardly as he watched the ship be devoured by thick fog, he held his hand out and caught a few snows in his hands.

 Chapter 101 Assassination 101: How to sneak into a castle

    Gereon was inside his office, watching the mountains and puffing his cigar. "Ahh!" He raised his voice to give a satisfactory groan, "Life has never been better."He put the cigar to his mouth once more and filled his mouth with the smoke, savoring the flavor. He let the thick, warm smoke fill his mouth, it tasted rich and earthy, with hints of cocoa and a touch of spice that remained on his tongue, leaving a comforting warmth behind.

    "Smoking kills"

    A low, sweet voice behind him said in a tone that was almost too dry to be an advice.

    "Eleyn!" He was surprised, she only came inside his office in case of emergencies. Like that time when they ran out of chocolates when Amber tried to sneak into the storeroom and used a principle meant for creating light, but she accidentally blew up the whole place. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "What brings you here?"

    "They identified the assassin, it''s a big merchant from Loserrado." She was leaning against the door, only a part of her feet was inside the office.

    Gereon''s sarcastic face, a face that never seemed to stop smiling, suddenly turned serious, but the smile remained, even though it had dropped a little. "Is he strong enough or is he just an idiot trying his luck?" Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire

    "To answer that question," She got inside his office and sat on the guest sofa, "The people whom I sent said that he appeared weak, but when I divined..." Her expression turned grim. "It said that he would succeed."

    "I see..." Dereon''s smile had dropped very low, it seemed as if he was trying his best to keep up his smile, "But divination can be interpreted wrong, and is not all-powerful. Did you inform Alex?"

    "That''s what I did first, he said it would be fine as long as he is there." She turned to face her father-in-law, "And yes divination is not all-powerful, the future has an infinite amount of possible ways it could take, and divination shows only the most likely path the future would take, and it could change depending on the situation, let''s just see."

    "what do you want?" Gereon crushed his cigar inside the ashtray on his table, "you won''t go as far as coming into my office to report this. At most, you would just ask a servant to pass on the information."

    Eleyn stood up and dusted her gown, "I want to head to Wistmere palace." She said with a dedicated face.

    "No"

    "Make sure things are safe before they get there... What! No?"

    "Yes, I said No"

    "Why?"

    "Judge needs you Eleyn, you know it too." Gereon cleared his throat.

    "What do you mean?! Amber is also my child. And there is some assassin after her who might kill her." Eleyn was now shouting.

    "He won''t kill her Eleyn, rest assured... And calm down."

    Eleyn looked at him and said nothing, she wanted to refute his statement, but she knew Gereon wouldn''t lie so confidently.

    "I will take your word for it." She said and left the room, and silence came to the office to retake its rightful place. Only to be disturbed again by Gereon''s loud sigh.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel looked up to the moon, the usual blue color had a hint of purple in his vision. He looked over to the big palace that had too big of a front yard, with an "Ah ... here we go again" energy, he took a leap of faith from the top of the clock tower''s roof.

    The man who fell from the tower quickly spread his own bat wings and flapping them, he quickly made his way toward the palace walls, his trajectory was like a siege missile homing in on the walls to destroy them.

    But no matter how close to the walls he got, he never changed his path. Just before getting the walls, they got distorted and a dark portal seemingly leading to the abyss appeared. Noel quickly dived inside it.

    There was a guard tower just close to where he entered the portal, but none seemed to notice. They were all fast asleep, which was unusual since they were not new and untrained knights who did not know how to stay awake during the night¡ª they were veterans.

    The shadow containing Noel moved toward the palace which was still lit despite the time. Avoiding all lights, he quickly reached the palace and phased his way inside into an empty room.

    Dusting himself well, he looked around the room, but his gaze was not focused anywhere, it was as if he was looking at something beyond the opaque obstacles.

    After a while of looking around, his gaze suddenly shifted and focused on a single point. He turned his entire body towards the point, and again turned into a shadow, sinking into the floor.

    The shadow traveled upward on the vertical walls. Phasing through the ceiling and appearing inside the dark room above, but it did not stop there, it kept phasing through the walls and through the ceiling a last time.

    Finally, it arrived inside a room with pink patterned walls and many decors made of gold on every corner and the study desk.

    Noel paid them no mind as he moved towards the bed, he materialized into a human and took out his knife from his pouch. After unsheathing he went quietly towards the red-haired girl who was fast asleep.

    He held up his knife above the girl''s chest "I am sorry, little girl." His voice was nothing but a whisper, but before he finished, the knife came down and blood was splattered all over.

    The killer, together with his knife had turned into a shadow. Leaving no trace of anyone ever stepping into the place. His shadow traveled even faster than he had come in, but he was not careless, he avoided any and all sources of light, treading carefully and exiting out of the palace.

    And on that cold night, inside her room, the body of Amber Drakonis lay in her bed, lifeless.

 Chapter 102 Relax, its just a prankâ€” The prank

    There were three main modes of land transportation in Eldris. One was the train. It connected all of the major and many minor cities and extended onwards to many villages en route or made routes through villages with stunning visuals.Enjoy new adventures from My Virtual Library Empire

    The next was the path weaver, a carriage but with spectral horses instead of the normal ones. The advantages where huge, they did not feel fatigued nor do they run away in fear after seeing monsters. Unsurprisingly, those were the transport options of rich people.

    Taxi drivers worked under any taxi organization since the cost of a single path weaver could go well over 500 sten, and that was just the minimum-priced ones without offering too much.

    The third and most used one is the public metro, which is seen in three of the most prominent cities¡ª the capital, Frosmire, the largest port city, Wistmere, and the biggest border city, Silvermeire.

    On a densely crowded metro station, a station that was connected to the railway station, people were pouring inside and outside, some looked at the city with full of hope inside their eyes and drew a deep breath, while some were returning with a defeated look.

    A black-haired man was returning from a ticket station with a smooth iron suitcase. Unlike most other people his age taking a return ticket, his face was full of joy, as if he had accomplished something immense.

    With a joyous face, he slowly returned to a bench nearby in order to wait for the next train that would leave for Losterrado. He opened the newspaper he had bought earlier and started to read. He scanned through all the article columns to find if there was any piece of news about his job the previous night.

    But there was not a single piece of news about the death of the young lady from the house of Drakonis. It was expected, since any person who could think reasonably would not reveal the news of the death of their child in the newspaper the next day. Not only was it unnecessary, but it also affects the family''s reputation.

    Soon, he heard a long whistle, it was the ether locomotive. He smiled and put away his newspaper on the bench where he was sitting on, after adjusting his flat hat and taking his smooth iron suitcase, we started to walk towards the platform, this would mark another end for his grand mission.

    Forgive me Amber Drakonis, He said inside his mind just before he entered the train. His beige double-breasted frock coat with high collars and the flat hat gave him a mysterious gentleman look.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex sat near his daughter, it was almost six in the morning, yet she was asleep. There was blood all over her chest, but he did not seem to mind that. At all.

    "Amber, it is time to wake up." He said so casually that one would not believe there was a person covered in blood in front of him, and what''s worse? That person was his daughter.

    "Hmm... a lil more time, just five minutes," Amber said with the calmness of someone who definitely was alive and kicking, and someone who definitely was not covered in blood from chest to... well, abdomen?

    "You are wet, Amber, and you better clean yourself... fast." Alex was still calm.

    Amber just wanted to sleep, but she opened her eyes and looked at what made her dad say that she had to wash up.

    "What?!" She just had one look at her dress. Her white nightgown had been dyed red, and she knew it was not some food coloring, it smelled like blood, real blood.

    "What''s this?" She turned to look at he father, "Dad?"

    "I will explain, but it''s better if you wash yourself first, MAIDS!" He clapped, and three maids in a red skirt and golden bodice came in.

    Amber, without another word, got up from her bed and followed the maid to the bathroom to get herself cleaned. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Alex also got up and returned to the deck, they still had almost a week to go before they reached Wistmere. It would have been faster to teleport, but teleporting such great distances had its flaws.

    One was that it required a huge amount of ether, enough to fuel a wide range destructive ethercraft principle. And that was only for just one person, there were still the matter of three personal maids, two personal guards, a personal butler, and a personal father... well he is still shared between two other people but still.

    So taking the teleportation route was not the best option, and there were no fixed teleport gates because of reasons like "Hidden Dragon Land". A fixed transport gate inside the city was bound to get some unwanted attention, and the law forbids anyone from setting up fixed gates inside their gates, except inside the palace of course, because hey... they rule.

    Alex was greeted by the cold white fog as soon as he opened the door to the deck. Their ship was smaller than average, but not the smallest by any means, the Drakonis family were extravagant spenders, but not stupid enough to spend a few people on a large cloud weaver.

    He stepped out to enjoy the view, it was breathtaking. The fog-covered green mountains with a touch of white snow, the large river in the distance. He could even see the animals who came to drink water near the river, his eyesight was impressive.

    But no matter how impressive the scenery was, it was nothing new to Alex. Though he was only forty years old, he had seen sceneries more beautiful. One of his most unforgettable memory was of a field that seemed to expand as far as his eyes could see, filled with vibrant flowers of all colors, neatly arranged by nature, there was the sun looming over the horizon casting, its last golden rays for the day.

    Along with that, he had also seen war-ravaged grounds with bloodied bodies strewn across the ground, he could still hear the muffled cries and desperate screams in his ears, but they did not affect him, he had grown cold toward emotions like sympathy.

    Soon, a neatly dressed amber came into view, she wore a green full skirt with a white, velvet Fichu.

    "What was all that blood Dad?" She asked impatiently.

    Alex put his hand inside his frock coat and pulled out paper figure, and it was covered in blood. There was a small cut on its chest, the blood there was thicker even though it has been dried, indicating that the chest wound was where all the blood came from.

 Chapter 103 Option One: Study Spirits, Option Two: Become One

    Judge was with his mother, she recently started to teach him about spirits. But there was one condition for her to start teaching him, and it was that he could not attempt any spirit summoning until she told him he was ready.No, it was not one of those things where your master says in a cryptic tone that he was not yet ready, but she had a clear reason for that.

    Spirit summoning, or in his mother''s words "Evocatio Entitatis Sigillatae", which even she did not know the meaning of, was an art of summoning entities sealed in the world beyond ours by allowing them to use our own body as a gateway through the seal.

    She said even the gods could descend if they found a suitable mortal body that could hold their immense power at the moment they made their descent. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge being the weak child in her eyes (This is entirely Judge''s side of the picture), she said that his body could not serve as a gateway through the seal, so even summoning a spirit that was as powerless as a newborn was not in his reach.

    Judge was not liking this one bit, but what choice did he have... Wait! I do have a choice.

    He looked at his mother, who was explaining about the history of powerful spirits and their recorded tales. He just had a plan on how to politely tell his mother that he may not like spirits after all.

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    "Mom, politely speaking, maybe I don''t like spirit summoning after all." He had no plan, he just had to be honest. In his eyes, his mother¡ª no, his whole family was some unpredictable bunch of cold and calculating schemers, who decided to live together and start a family.

    Eleyn went dead silent, her cold gaze locked into his eyes, "You have two choices," her voice screamed danger.

    "What?" Judge suddenly regretted ever opening his mouth. That answer was, as expected, an unexpected one. Shit I should have stayed quiet.

    "One, study spirits, or the next choice," Her voice was calm but chilling, and that calmness was the most scary part. "You better believe me when I say I can turn YOU into a spirit."

    Judge could only gulp and nod, he had no other choice, he had gone deep into the trap he had set on his own. Again, why?!

    Seeing her son''s dissatisfactory nod, Eleyn could only sigh. "Listen here Judge, you are at the age where you should start studying ethercraft, Liam is studying material shift from your grandfather, Amber studied creation from your father.

    "And you, Judge, are going to study a more complicated matter. Believe it or not, with enough preparations beforehand, I am more powerful than your father and grandfather combined."

    Judge was in a daze when she was explaining, but her being more powerful than both his dad and grandpa combined was enough to drag his attention. even though it felt like too much of a scam, he knew his mother would never lie to her family.

    "Well, if you are talking about preparations, believe it or not, I am really good at it."

    "So am I, let''s just put the boring session on hold and learn to summon spirits shall we?" Eleyn smiled, the same smile that she gave when she was plotting something behind his back, but Judge could not put his finger on what.

    "Whatever you say, Mom." he decided to follow through with his mother''s plan for once. (Spoiler, it was a bad idea)

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber watched at the paper figurine her father was holding. The white surface had been dyed red with blood. She immediately thought of many things, but she could not put her thoughts on any of them properly, it was like a giant wheel full of ideas but it never stopped spinning to show an idea.

    "What is that, Dad?" She finally decided to ask her father directly without guessing more. Not only was it unnecessary, but also mentally exhausting, which was something she did not want to experience after the scene in the morning.

    "This is your connection with your body double inside the palace in Wistmere, and it all bloody means that it had been killed." Alex held the figure forward for his daughter to see it more clearly.

    Amber studied it before answering, "So, I was stabbed?" Despite the news of there being a possible killer out there who could kill her at any given time, she was calm and collected. "I was stabbed, inside my own house, in my room, and while I was sleeping? Possibly a stab to the chest?"

    "Yes correct, and there are a few good things that came with this."

    "And what are those Good things." She crossed her arms.

    "Firstly, your body double was allowed to be killed, it has been placed there since your birth, and it was about time to remove it because you are coming. So when we got news that there had been an assassin, and our sources said that there was a commission to kill you inside an assassin gathering, we instructed our people to just stay calm and act like they never saw him, but not make it obvious."

    "Why would someone want me dead? And you still have not answered my question."

    "I am getting to it sweetheart, and about who wants you dead, we are still looking through it. So, if the commissioner gets the news of your death, and it spreads among their circle of ''let''s take care of Amber''. Then, there would not be any more kill requests aimed at you, and if we were to catch that man who tried to assassinate you, catching the commissioner would have been harder."

    Amber was walking to and fro, she did not completely understand what her father told her, but she did not care as her curiosity had vanished, and her eyes slowly drifted toward the paper figure. "What are you going to do with that?"

    "Burn it, of course." Her father answered quite enthusiastically, and as she watched, the figure was quickly caught in small but extremely intense flames that burned it to a crisp.

 Chapter 104 Are you sure an assassin lives here?

    The Rivet family manor only had two owners, Isadora Rivet, and her husband Noel Rivet. Today, Isadora was sitting near the fireplace at the entrance. It was cold, but her clothing was still that layered red and black gown.tap tap tap

    Her heels were tapping on the floor intermittently. She was reading a newspaper, but she could not focus. The whole room was filled with anticipation.

    "Miss," A maid came in, holding a tray with green ornate tea cups and the teapot, she placed them on the table in front of her master. "It is Tiva tea."

    "No, take it back." She folded her paper to look at the maid, her voice was low but excited, "Serve me some grape wine, aged around ten years and fresh out of the cellar. I am not too calm to sip on tea today."

    The maid looked at her mistress for two seconds, and quickly bent down to pick up the tea set. "Yes miss." She left after saying those two words.

    The reason behind Isadora''s unusual behavior was a telegraph she received a few days back, it was from her husband, it said that he had taken a steam locomotive and would reach Losserado by today morning if nothing happened en route.

    She was not an innocent woman by any chance, she was powerful, but not as strong as her husband. And it was that strong Noel who had won her heart, and she was excited at the thought of just seeing him again. He had gone off for around three months, and had gone to Wistmere with a prior plan.

    Soon, her butler came in holding a tray with a bottle and a wine glass. He set both of them down on the table, "Here is your wine Miss, but I believe it would be best if we allowed the wine to aerate for a bit longer to fully enhance its flavors." He stood straight after setting everything up and holding the tray on his chest.

    "You may leave," Isadora was not in the mood for conversations, she knew the fact that aerating wines are supposed to make it taste better, but she could not resist the urge to have some.

    Taking the bottle up and holding the glass in place, she slowly poured the medium garnet liquid into her wine glass. After pouring enough, she put the bottle back onto the table and picked up the glass, giving it a strong whiff before taking a small sip.

    She felt extremely relieved after drinking a moderate amount of wine, she started to act as if she was drunk, but she was miles away from being intoxicated.

    Isadora jumped in surprise as the doorbell rang. Unlike a proper lady, she rushed to get the door. Just before she opened, she adjusted her black and red gown and also her posture, she then put on a smile and proceeded to open the door.

    Losserado was not a big city, it was more like a village that got too advanced, of course, the advancements were only in start contrast to the actual cities. The Rivet house mansion was set atop a large hill, there were expanses of green, grassy fields on the two sides of the mansion.

    There was a river to one side that broke the field on the left and connected to the ocean that was behind the house. The was an elaborate front yard that connected directly to the town.

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    Unlike the Drakonis house, there were neither guards, nor walls on any side. The village was a peaceful place and filled with honest people who made a living through proper effort.

    Isadora opened the door to see her husband, and as she saw him, she fell into his arms and hugged him tightly. All of her excitements were poured into that one moment, Noel hugged her back with one hand, his other hand was holding a smooth iron case.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge sat in his room, thinking of nothing. Yes, he sat for a whole five minutes just thinking of nothing. He could feel someone watching him, as a cameraman, he could tell if someone was spying on him, and someone was indeed spying on him.

    Suddenly, he sat up straight, as if he finally came back to life from being a corpse. He took up his pen and started writing on a parchment that was spread open.

    Well, he only started. As soon as he dipped the quill inside the ink (yeah he chose the quill because he was accustomed to life being difficult), he remembered he was writing the diary, and the parchment was something he wrote about his finding about artifacts.

    He put away his writing slope and stood up, went near the shelf, and took out his diary.

    The gaze on him was lifted immediately as soon as he sat down and opened the hardcover copy of "A Dragon''s Rise to Godhood", at least that''s the plan, as long as he did not die in the middle, or worse, he did not find any clues. Anyways, the lifted gaze filled Judge with ease.

    Dragons value privacy, he thought as he started to write.

    5 November 2009

    Dear Diary,

    Today something unexpected happened, my mother decided to teach me about the summoning ritual for summoning spirits.

    It was not very complicated, after all, the ritual was only for a person to connect with the sealed domain. But the toll it took on a person''s body was top notch, one could even go insane from just being exposed to the sealed world''s ether.

    But hey, I am Judge, insane is my last name. Well actually it is Drakonis... wait! both mean the same thing, what a coincidence.

    So today, I am going to attempt to summon a spirit, as soon as the gaze on me is lifted. And I am gonna prove to mom that I can do it while I am four where she did it at ten. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Side note: Doesn''t this feel like something is going to go horribly wrong? But no matter what, I made up my mind.

    I will come get you, Clio.

    Judge leaned back on his chair, the gaze still had not returned... It was time to test out his compatibility. He slowly closed his book without any sound, and he did not get up.

    He knew if he made any kind of noise that indicated that he had finished writing, the gaze was going to return.

    He took the parchment and started to draw a very complicated rune that was used for summoning. But as soon as he started, the gaze was back... Oh no!

 Chapter 105 When a four-year-old have some very concerning stationary objects

    Judge took the parchment that he had put away and started writing on it with a fountain pen that he took from inside a secret compartment in his desk. The prerequisite for writing runes is that, unless it was written on a special paper, you have to use blood.Judge had requested a fountain pen without any ink and filled it with his blood beforehand, it was when he was just starting to learn runes, he had read that it required blood in the book about runes his grandfather gave him.

    He had first tried to create the fountain pen within the studio and bring it back, but alas, he could only create stuff and bring it to the outside world before was because it was all just an illusion. The fake reality had registered it as an attempt to teleport stuff and created it within the illusory world.

    Wow, that is really powerful, but that is a god we are talking about. Anyway, back to Judge, where were we? Oh right, Judge slowly starts to draw the rune for summon in the parchment with his own blood. But oh boy, did he get caught!

    (A/N: If you like this kind of narration in the middle, please do tell me. I will try to do this or avoid it according to your suggestions.)

    Judge could feel the same gaze again, it was currently night, so the gaze was definitely not Lediya, and it was not a spirit since it looked away when he opened his diary. So, the only person this gaze could belong to was his mother.

    But if it was indeed his mother''s gaze, there was one problem, the gaze was still calm despite him clearly trying out runes. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Suddenly, it clicked! All the dots started connecting, and his unanswered question about why his mother changed her to teach him about summoning even before she took all of those lessons about spirit history or whatever. Because apparently, spirits resonate with you more the more you know about them.

    She actually wanted her son to try the summoning ritual himself, but try was doing a lot of heavy lifting here, since she knew that there was no way he would succeed. But if he experienced the sealed world firsthand and then failed, he would be more eager to learn about summoning the spirits.

    She was keeping watch because if anything happened, she knew well enough to not allow a serious problem to occur. Otherwise, she would not spy upon his privacy, that was also the case previously when she assigned a spirit to watch over him.

    The spirit would only tell her if problems occurred and not anything else about his private moments. Anyone entering his room would knock first, so as to not disturb his privacy.

    He sighed and held his fountain pen firmly. He started to draw the rest of the rune.

    The first part was a vertical rectangle with curved edges, "runes with sharp corners NEVER work!" he had seen those lines inside the book of runes more than he had seen the office coffee machine break down¡ª at this point, it felt like a ritual sacrifice!

    On the top part, there was the sealing rune, same details but smaller. Over that was a wavy line, representing the unstable realm. At the bottom part was just a flat line, representing the stable realm, the mortal world. Above that, at the center, were two symbols, one was the rune with intertwined circles, representing connection.

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    On the center of the intertwined circles was a single line, "I", which represented the self. After everything was drawn and finished, Judge leaned back to look at the symbol, the smell of fresh blood permeated the air.

    The blood had been put inside the container for years, foreseeing this would happen, he had specifically requested for the ink cartridges to be enchanted to keep the liquid inside it fresh and the state it was poured in.

    The ink cartridge was made as per his request, and it could keep the liquids in the same state as long as he provided enough ether, and also other could be liquids it cannot keep fresh.

    With the first step done, Judge moved on to the next one, it was to take out his catalyst. He took the wand-shaped catalyst that his Mom gifted him on his birthday, the one which can hold an absurd amount of ether inside it.

    Opening the path from his current world to the sealed world did not take up much ether, but it was dependent on what kind of spirit was the summoner trying to call. Low-level spirits responded to calls with low ether offers, which was most of the summoning rituals. If a person had to offer high quantities of ether, then a more powerful spirit may respond.

    There was also another factor that affected the type of spirit a person summons, if one had a high affinity with a high-level spirit, then even with small quantities of ether, they could summon powerful spirits.

    Holding the wand tightly in his hand, almost too tightly, Judge proceeded to the next and final step, which was to chant a summoning spell that came to his mind, it should be natural and forced, as if letting your tongue speak without a thought.

    Judge heaved a big sigh before he proceeded. He cleared his mind, circulated his ether towards the rune, and let his mouth do the rest, he could feel his mother''s gaze lifting as if it was being blocked by something unknown. He paid it no mind and began to chant without thought.

    Servants who bind the gods.

    Heed my voice, the call has been made.

    Your master commands your presence

    Rise from the depths of your slumber.

    Obey my words, the time has come

    Judge''s blank thoughts were quickly filled with embarrassment, Did I actually just say that? Who even wrote this script?

    Amidst his embarrassment, and the thought of failure, he saw an illusory crack within his mind, it did not exist in the world, but he could see it by the window, strong and violent ether was seeping out from it.

    Judge watched as two menacing purple eyes appeared behind the crack.

 Chapter 106 The legend of a spirit who faceplanted through dimensions

    Judge watched the crack, the corners of his vision suddenly turned into a purple hue. Slowly, two menacing purple glows appeared inside the crack that had been carefully created with the ether inside his wand.Even though several weeks had passed since the wand catalyst was made, there was only a small amount of ether inside it because, believe it or not, his personal studio could not provide enough ether to recharge any catalyst since there was only enough ether to hold the place still. And putting the wand there was not the best choice.

    Judge watched as two pale hands reached out and grabbed the edge of the crack that seemed to be leading into utter darkness. Slowly, cold air started to seep out along with the ferocious ether that was already getting out.

    Soon, the head, along with the whole body, became visible. The figure looked human, he had hair that was dark but shined blue under the moon''s light, and his eyes were sharp. The whole body was extremely pale and thin, but not thin enough to show any signs of malnutrition.

    Contrary to his chilling entry, he fell flat on his face as soon as he exited the crack and the crack closed. He was trying his hardest to breathe, making Judge, who was filled with excitement and anticipation, rethink his life choices.

    After a while of embarrassing silence, the spirit dusted himself off the ground, stood straight, and cleared his throat before speaking. "You called me, Master?" He curled his right hand into a fist, placed it on his chest, and kneeled in front of Judge.

    Judge looked intensely at the spirit in front of him, the spirit had very little ether that anyone looking could tell that it was just a weak spirit. But weak spirits could not manifest in such detailed physical forms.

    Despite the fact that it could appear in human form, there was also another fact that made Judge think that this was not a low-level spirit that its ether volume shows to be. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    There was something, something sinister hiding behind that mask of a human body, a menacing presence that could make anyone cover in fear.

    "Who are you?" Judge could not hold back the question.

    "I am your humble and loyal servant, one of the Seraphim, Solarae."

    That answer was not something he expected out of a spirit with a presence that was menacing. So it was something to do with himself, there was more to him than just being a reborn child. He could feel that they both still had not returned to the material world, otherwise, his mother''s gaze would return.

    "Who am I?" The question was asked taking into consideration the fact that the spirit seems to know something about him that he himself did not know.

    "I do not know."

    "What?!"

    Solarae looked up to see the surprised face of his master, "Master it is not as if my being do not know, but I have sacrificed my memories and most of my power to heed your call."

    Judge quickly regained his composure, "Explain." He said with a calm, but commanding tone.

    "Master, you only provided enough ether for a weak sealer to come through the gate you created, but I had to come since I have the most compatibility with you, so I had to sacrifice my power enough to fit the weak summoning, but loosing too much power would affect my existence, so I had to sacrifice most of my memories too.

    "But I could recall them slowly as time passed, along with my powers. Rest assured master. The only memories I have are some basic knowledge and everything I just mentioned."

    Judge sighed, isn''t this too much? He calls me master, I asked... no, commanded for a servant when I summoned the spirits, even though I do not know why. Did I go to the spirit world before? No, I don''t think so. And what was that thing about the spirits being sealers?

    Ah yes! I called them servants who sealed the gods, what does that even mean? Are they the ones who sealed the gods away from the mortal realm? Melina said something about the dragons making a deal with the gods four thousand years ago in the... umm... Aetus Custodias? Custodis?

    He sighed, there were more questions than answers, and even if he found answers to most of these questions, he knew for a fact that t he would only end up with more questions.

    He sighed again, but this time, with a new purpose in mind. "Can you change forms?" He asked Solarae.

    "Yes!"

    "Good, change into a lower leveled sealer, and they are called spirits nowadays. And try your hardest to remember your memories. Your first job would be to keep an eye out for anyone who comes near my room when I am in my bed."

    "Yes, master."

    Judge nodded, and Solarae rose from his kneeling position. Just as he did, Judge could feel the gaze of his mother on him again, but she did not knock on his door. Instead, she retracted her gaze and went away.

    As expected, she was here only to ensure my safety. He could not help but smile.

    With everything in place, and a low level spirit watching over him, Judge felt confident to head out. But he could do that tomorrow, today, he had to finish the recordings given by Lucifer and Gabriel.

    He changed into his pajamas and headed for the bed, immediately soul-traveling into the studio since he still hadn''t managed to order a mannequin that was as hard as a dragon. In order to act as a clone.

    After being seated on the grand throne with a high backrest inside the grand but enclosed throne room. He started to take a look at the recording he had put on hold, starting with Lucifer''s records.

    Just as he was about to start, he noticed something. The order in which Lucifer provided his recordings was not chronological like how everyone, including him, usually provided. There was just one scene that he had placed at first, it must be important, Judge thought as he watched the scene.

    It was of an assassin taking up a commission to kill his sister.

 Chapter 107 Mission impossible: sleeping past sunrise

    The place was dimly lit, barely enough to see. None of the faces present were clear and they all wore masks.There was a notice board placed on the wall that could be seen from anywhere inside the dark tavern. The board seemed to be lighting by itself, making the contents visible, but there were no posters on the board whatsoever.

    Even though there were not many people present, most gazes were directed at the luminescent board. Some occasionally looked away or at their food or drink.

    Soon, the anticipation rose as a person holding a rolled-up parchment came near the board and plastered the paper on it. Every person who was either occasionally or at all times looking at the board quickly came near it to take a look, but went away as soon as they read the mission description.

    Judge, who was watching the recording carefully, went near the board and curiously took a look. He had an inkling that this was not a piece of good news, and it turned out to be true.

    Assassination request, Judge read in his mind, his eyes widened in surprise as he read the rest. Amber Drakonis, eldest child from the wyvern noble Drakonis house, S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Reward, ten thousand Stens.

    Judge knew that he was supposed to be furious and boiling inside after seeing this, but all that came out was slight anger, nothing intense. For the first time, he felt restrained with a rune sealing his intense emotions.

    He wanted to get furious, but to no avail. He watched the commission being rejected by everyone who laid their eyes on it, finally¡ª a cloaked man with a featureless black mask stood up and came toward the board.

    This guy, unhinged as he looked, took up the poster without even glancing at it and went to the counter, reading it along the way. He slammed it on the wood without any second thoughts, "I take this commission."

    Without saying anything else, he just left the place at a leisurely pace, opening the door and revealing the dark stairs that lead up.

    The scene ended, Judge came back to his senses and just sat there on his throne. What did he just witness?

    Someone wants Amber dead? When was this, yeah I have to warn them! ... but why? didn''t I hate her? Why should I care whether she died or not? Judge sighed, no matter how much he tried to restrain himself, he knew what he was gonna do Whoever posted that request better count their days, and the assassin who thought the Drakonis was an easy target, maybe I should break him before killing.

    Judge''s cheeks made way for his lips as they curled up into a crooked grin, the silent throne room was now filled with a maniac''s laughter.

    To plan his moves better, he decided to check if there was any other information about the assassin. And he just skimmed through all the recordings he received from Lucifer, h saw Finn''s recruitment, and also the lady in a researcher''s garb. But he completely missed the detail about her purple eyes.

    He organized many recordings to be sent to Clio. After many daily and interesting scenes, he finally saw the rest of the footage, he saw the man changing his appearance, and he saw him heading to Wistmere, a city he had never gone to before.

    He saw him carefully plan and prepare everything, scouting the mansion for a whole day, scouting at night using his shadow, laying low for one day, asking the knights for information, and finally, preparing to enter the house and finish the mission.

    The subsequent scenes, he did not get them on the day when they held the gathering, but this was sent to him afterward, Seems Lucifer really wants to show me this huh? Judge thought, half mockingly, half seriously.

    Everything was going as if it was a movie, Judge even had popcorns ready. But just as Assassin prepared for the night, and covered his face with the mask, Judge felt the cold gaze of the purple eyes that appeared on top of the featureless black mask.

    As he watched, the corners of his vision started to turn purple, Purple eyes! Those are the same as mine! And he is using them, how? Maybe I should do more research on that.

    His thoughts were all finished in a fraction of a second under the influence of his enhanced cognition. Judge decided to watch the rest, it was not much, Just the killing of the girl with red hair that Judge instantly knew was not his sister, and his escape.

    But it did not stop there, Lucifer followed him all the way and the scene lasted until he got on a train to Losserado.

    Judge was not happy about the scene being cut off just after he entered the train. He felt as if his favorite movie ended in a cliffhanger. He still had Gabriel''s recording to look through, but he decided to stop since he could feel the extreme headache just around the corner.

    After willing for the recordings he set aside for Clio to be sent to her, he exited his studio and slept away the night. Judge had closed the curtains, but in the morning, Lediya entered his room and spread them apart.

    Golden rays hit Judge''s eyes like those extremely annoying flashbangs he got when playing cs go, it was not a skill issue, it was the teammate''s fault.

    "Young master," Lediya''s calm and soothing voice hit his ears, but instead of making him feel more sleepy, it felt like he would sleep forever if he were to sleep now. "Please wake up, I will soon bring in your breakfast."

    Judge had allowed his maid''s entry in the morning to wake him up, there was only one reason behind that, if he overslept, his mother made sure he slept until noon.

    He slowly got up, put on his comfy slippers, adjusted his pajamas, and headed for the bathroom.

    After seeing her master getting up, Lediya silently left his room to bring him his breakfast, passing the knights who were definitely bored out of their minds, they were playing cards on a nearby table.

    It was not disrespect, because among dragons meant not doing the task your superior gave his subordinates. Their task was only to defend Judge and look after him, and if anything happened they would step in without question.

 Chapter 108 The Art of Hitting the Ground Gracefully

    Judge finished the sumptuous meal of worrak steak that had a different flavor than normal because Lediya changed up the ingredients. The taste, however, did not disappoint him, it was extremely good, of course, worrak was hard to make a bad dish out of.After the meal, it was almost time for his sword lessons. He sighed, he did not want to be knocked down today too, but there was no other choice. If he were to use enhanced cognition to get out of being knocked out, his instructor would definitely find out, he was not a stupid dragon.

    As he was lost in thought, he heard a knock on the door.

    "Come in," he sighed, going near the unlit fireplace, again... why do dragons need one anyway? As he grasped his sword, he pondered, as he often did, the sheer absurdity of a fireplace in a dragon''s room. Did it hold symbolic warmth?

    Sword instructor Dosav came in and was pleased to see Judge readily taking his sword from on top of the unlit fireplace. Why do dragons need a fireplace anyway? He thought, it was a thought that had crossed him every time he went into any room inside the palace.

    Judge sighed and stood silently in front of his sword instructor, having no choice but to accept his fate. If I survive this session, I''ll need a new spine. And maybe a new will to live. He thought to himself before getting teleported.

    And the inevitable snap and teleport happened, but this time, they were back in the usual training ground instead of the underground one with all the walls enclosed and reinforced.

    The breath of fresh air seemed to fill Judge with vitality, he felt like he was going to make it without even a scratch. Today was his day, and after this lesson was over, he was going to spend time lying on the grass and enjoying the sun. He lifted up his sword and attempted to block as instructor Dosav came in with a forward blow.

    The next moment he knew, he was knocked out and had just opened his eyes. He was lying on a patch of grass under the sunlight.

    Hey, at least I got what I wanted! He gave himself a self-deprecating laugh.

    After realizing Judge had come to his senses, Dosav came to him and tapped his head lightly with the tip of the sheathed sword. "Get up Judge, we are nowhere near being done with today''s lesson. And make sure your mind is clear of any interferences, taking that blow without blocking yourself clearly shows that your mind is elsewhere. If it continues, I will be forced to increase the difficulty of the lesson." S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Increase? Difficulty? Judge quickly got on his feet and cleared his mind of any unnecessary thoughts. Normal kids may not know how much harder can a sword lesson get, but Judge had experience learning under Seraphis.

    "Yes, that is a nice stance." Dosav smiled, but in a good and reassuring way. Judge was starting to get trauma from a smile, but he could feel the gentle sensation of an honest smile behind instructor Dosav.

    Judge stood sideways, he extended his sword forward with his right hand, and his left hand was held back for balance.

    The gentle smile on Dosav''s face was quickly erased as he got ready to strike, Judge got ready too, no more distractions. He sighed and took a deep breath.

    With a quick series of steps, Dosav''s sword came down with a surprising speed. But Judge was prepared, he sidestepped, avoiding the heavy blow as it crashed into the ground, creating a loud noise. But there was no visible damage on the training floor.

    But the sword was not the only thing he had to look after¡ª with the support of his previous momentum and the sword''s forward force, Dosav lifted his leg to strike Judge''s head. Judge had just a small time to react, he raised his arms to block the blow.

    Air-splitting noises could be heard as Judge''s arms absorbed the shock from his instructor''s kick.

    Dosav twisted his body to jump over Judge and kick from the other side with his now free leg with the momentum he just made. But Judge had enough time to predict the next move, he quickly ducked and rolled back, getting up on his feet quickly once he got back.

    Dosav lifted his sword again, he swung the sword in a wide arc toward Judge''s chest, who turned his sword to show the flat side towards Dosav''s sword and, with the help of his off hand at the base, redirected the blow upward.

    With the instructor''s sword in the air, he saw a small chance to land a blow. Confidence started to surge in him as he risked a quick forward swing to his instructor''s abdomen.

    In a split second, Dosav backstepped the swing and slipped his own blade toward Judge''s torso, forcing him back. Judge scrambled, barely keeping his stance as he narrowly avoided another blow. Dosav, quick as ever, closed the distance, his strikes coming faster, sharper, and relentless in their precision. Judge struggled to keep up, his mind racing to track each angle, each faint movement that betrayed Dosav''s next strike.

    Judge barely blocked an upward swing, but his arms felt leaden from the force of the blow. Dosav didn''t let up; he pressed his advantage, raining down a series of rapid, calculated strikes. Judge''s defenses began to falter, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

    Just as he was about to yield, Dosav''s blade stopped an inch from Judge''s throat. Judge''s eyes widened as he realized how close he''d been to another knockdown.

    "You''ve improved Judge, extremely so. Color me impressed!" Dosav complimented Judge as he put the sword back onto his belt.

    "Your words are undeserving instructor, it''s all thanks to your teaching," Judge said in a playful tone, as if he was forced to say it rather than being honest.

    Instructor Dosav laughed at his witty remark, he did not get angry over how Judge said it. That was his persona in this household.

 Chapter 109 The journey to the west... or east, I dunno just teleport.

    Melina and Judge sat inside the library, she was teaching Judge there because his house arrest had been lifted. She sat across the table from Judge, the table was rectangular and long. But they were both sitting across the long ends, so there was not much of a distance.Judge was fully immersed in the book of creating principles, it mentioned the traits of ether and how it can be used to create one''s own principle. After he had grasped the concept to a small extent, they would move on to the next class which was making one''s own principles.

    Creating a principle from scratch was a dangerous job, especially for children, but dragons never cared for their children as they cared for "privacy".

    He was getting used to the nature of his species which was to ''provide safety, but let them do if they think they can''. While he liked the idea, he realized how dangerous it was if the person responsible for safety could not protect the child in time.

    Judge was fully immersed himself in the book, Melina was also reading another book which was brown and had a cover that was rather plain and had no letters. She occasionally looked up at him to see how he was doing, or if he was up to anything mischievous. Otherwise, both were silent and nose-deep inside the book they were reading.

    Judge sighed inward, Melina''s look was definitely to give him a message, a message he knew that only she would give¡ª "You better not try anything funny."

    He sighed again, this message was not new to him. After all, he was the infamous troublemaker in the house. But it makes one wonder how a child cooped up in his room be a troublemaker¡ª needless to say this was an image of himself that Judge created intentionally.

    His reason was simple¡ª if a knowledge-addicted bookworm was to sneak out of his room, it would not end with a mere house... no, room arrest.

    They would go through his research papers one by one to find out what compelled him to go out. Of course, dragons valued privacy, but there were other actions to be taken when it came to anything suspicious, but it would most probably be only his mother going through them.

    Surprisingly, they would not find anything inside the papers, so she would go through his diary. That was something he needed to avoid at all costs, while she may not be able to read English, that would raise even more questions and there would be much attention focused on him.

    Judge sighed, Maybe I am overthinking this, I mean it''s crazy to think about how a personality could make the situations very dire. But it is better safe to be sorry, and prevention is better than the cure, though I wonder if there is a cure for that situation.

    "Judge!" someone called out from the distance, it was coming from the way towards the entrance of the library. Judge recognized the voice, it was his mother.

    "What, Mom?" He tore away from the book, it still had not reached the practical aspects, he was still reading about the history of how ethercraft principles came to be. It was not the best use of his time, but he unfortunately started to enjoy it as a story,

    The author has a great knack for storytelling. Maybe they should have taken up novels instead of writing research papers for the doctorate, does doctorates even exist in this world? He thought.

    Judge looked over to behind the shelves, and his mother came into view. She seemed to be happy and actually had some good news.

    "Judge, I got a good news for you." She beamed, rays of light seemingly coming from behind her like she was an angel (this part was actually only in Judge''s imagination). "You can now head out of the house like Liam, but going outside the city requires you to take some things.

    She took out her purse, "Firstly, take this protection rune." She held out a piece of paper that was black with many golden stars on it and a rune for protection in the middle. The rune was of a circle with a vertical line touching one end and a small horizontal line from the other end.

    "Secondly" She took out a ring that was inlaid with a dark gemstone, "This is a catalyst that has enough ether to teleport you at least once even from a really far distance, use it only when necessary, and only to return home."

    Judge took both of the items she gave, he looked at the ring, his mother did not specify if it was reusable or not. She would not, because there was no way she would keep a non-reusable catalyst with her. He knew his mother very well.

    "Lastly," Eleyn was not done, she took out a mail and a seal with another dark catalyst inlaid at its tip. "This letter can send me any messages if you use the seal after writing and putting the paper in."

    Judge put the ring on his finger, and the thick card inside his long dandy coat. He then accepted the seal and the letter, also putting them inside his royal blue coat.

    After getting everything, he got too excited and hugged his mother tightly. He could finally do whatever he wanted, he was free.

    His mother hugged him back tightly and said in a monotonous tone "Remember what I said before Judge, there are many powerful beings that you cannot defeat, so don''t be stubborn and come back if you encounter a ferocious foe, the ring is enchanted to teleport automatically if it detects any barrier starting to form around you... including an anti-teleportation barrier."

    Judge gave her an understanding nod, Melina sat by the desk and continued her reading as she did not just witness a mother just sending her four-year-old child out into the wild. She had already used to this, in her eyes, Dragons were a bunch of lunatics who did not care if their child killed a person from another species.

    Eleyn and Judge both finished their hugs and Judge started to move the head to the door happily. "Judge!" His mother called out, "Remember to not teleport out of the land of dragons."

    To answer this instruction, which Judge knew that he would break without any second thought, he just put up a thumbs down and said nothing, he knew his mother would just figure out the wrong things on her own.

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    I think it means that he would not head out, that''s a relief. Eleyn thought to herself and sat beside Melina. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 110 A Clocktower Pose a Day Keeps Dignity at bay

    Judge was sitting on top of a clock tower, he did not know why he was doing that, but maybe he just wanted to get a badass frame of himself and record it to send it to Clio. He did just that and turned to other important matters."Yeah, nothing says ''intimidating'' like a guy sitting on a clock tower, coat flapping in the wind like a drama magnet," he thought. "This''ll definitely make Clio roll her eyes so hard she''ll see the back of her skull."

    He checked his pockets to make sure he had taken enough money from his allowance. It was not much, but he had taken a big stack of notes of many denominations, there were notes of both ten sten and fifty sten.

    He glanced down at the massive stack of notes in his pocket and thought, "Perfect. Now I can either buy a loaf of bread or bribe half the city to start a revolution. Why did I even grab so much?"

    Altogether, he had about five hundred sten, with even more inside the studio. He could still change his form when he was inside his studio. So his form was of a lean man with cold silver eyes that had golden streaks coming out from the pupil.

    His current attire was a black tailcoat, but it was more like a duster coat if anything, but neater. He wore a navy waistcoat and a high-collared white shirt. His golden pocket watch was inside the pocket of his trousers.

    This dress was something he had sneaked into the studio when he had ordered several coats for his present to his father on his birthday, he made more orders with the same size and paid for it with his allowance money that nobody seemed to keep tabs on.

    The young man who looked like he was in his twenties was inside the city of Limdom, while he had come here many times previously, he was not familiar with the place or where to get the goods he needed.

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    And what better place other than a bar to get information, but he would be too conspicuous. His best choice would have been to go into a club, but he had no one to be recommended and accepted. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    In the area he currently was in, there was only one known club, at least the only known one to him. It was the silver casket, in order to get inside, one had to be recommended by one member, need another member as a backer, and be accepted with a majority vote in an assembly of at least thirty members.

    Judge sighed, while he could get inside using his abilities as a recorder, he still needed a badge on his chest at all times inside the club, which was tiring to think about having to steal the badge on top of getting in just to get more familiar with the town, he had a better place for it, and all he needed was to ditch the expensive attire.

    After some pondering, he decided to head to a shop that sold mercenary equipment, including clothes made out of materials suited for combat. He jumped down and landed perfectly with grace.

    He started his pace toward the store he had scanned from the top of the tower. After several minutes, he stopped in front of a sign that Just said "Mercenary equipment".

    Judge scoffed silently at the sign. Clearly, they have no sense of naming. Don''t they know that names can play a big role in marketing? who runs this shop?

    Without standing around too much, he got inside, and the whole place went silent as all the eyes started to focus on him, and not in a welcoming way. Ahh! It''s because I am wearing expensive attire that mostly looks noble. Not exactly welcome here huh?

    Ignoring the gazes Judge made his way towards the counter, swinging his cane along the way.

    "I need a few sets of clothes for my friend who is about the same size as me." He said to the employee before him as soon as he got to the counter, "I don''t mind the cost, but make it less attention grabbing."

    Yeah, totally for someone else. Not that he had any friends his size. Or any friends, period, who wanted mercenary gear.

    "Y-yes sir!" The flustered man suddenly answered his request, he looked rather rattled and discombobulated. Judge sighed, the worker can''t be blamed for the behavior.

    Judge''s current attire was extremely attention grabbing, he could only make higher quality clothes if they were in disguise for his father''s birthday. After all, why would you gift a cheap cloth to your own father when you have enough money?

    The expensive attire would only be worn by either the aristocrats or the rich. And what was a rich man doing in a mercenary goods shop if he was not a merc himself? and rich mercenaries were all very powerful.

    The man with black hair and brown eyes led him to a place full of clothes, mostly enchanted. There was one row on each side with clothes that were not enchanted, rest were all clothes made for real battle instead for rookie mercenaries who just started their venture and did not have enough money.

    "All the clothes here are suited for defense," the man explained, he wore a grey vest, a white shirt, and a sleeves suit over it. That seemed to be the uniforms since there were three other employees beside him and they were all wearing the same.

    "What is your name?" Judge asked in a cold tone, he wanted to ease the tension of the guide and make things easier for both parties, but he did not want the man to be any less scared of him.

    "It''s Gregory Hales Sir, may I have the honor of knowing your name?" He answered nervously and clasped his hands together.

    The cold, silver eyes with golden streaks turned to look at Hales, seeming to read his entire self from top to bottom. Did I make a mistake? Am I going to die? His mind was filled with fear.

    "Dorian Caine," he said, holding back a laugh. If only Clio could see him now, the drama king in full regalia. He imagined her rolling her eyes, muttering, "Oh, brother, really?" Yes, really, Clio.

    "Show me the best." He went to the male side of clothes, inspecting thick fabric like he knew what it was.

 Chapter 111 High Fashion or Hired Assassin?

    "Thank you for your patronage!" The cashier''s voice was about as steady as a wobbly chair, his forced smile doing a poor job of masking the terror in his eyes. Judge''s mere presence seemed to squeeze all confidence out of the room, leaving everyone as stiff as mannequins and just as quiet.It was not just the fact that everyone thinking that he was a high ranking adventurer, but there was something in him that made them afraid of him. They all swallowed their saliva and watched him exit through the door.

    "Who was that?"

    "I don''t know, never seen him. He said his name was Dorian Caine right? I''ve never heard of that name either, maybe he just moved here to Limdon?"

    Chattering started to erupt as soon as Judge left the place, Judge wanted to build a new identity for himself in the world outside of the land of the dragons. While this was not currently necessary he knew this could help him out in the future.

    His next step was to head inside the mercenary guild and register himself as an adventurer and raise his ranks to become a renowned mercenary. But two things stopped him from raising his rank right after registering.

    One thing was his mother''s warning, no matter how powerful he thinks he is there will always be someone stronger. He might be a dragon with lots of ether and a strong presence, or Will, but he definitely was not strong.

    Second was his thirst to kill the two fugitives who tried to kill his sister, again¡ª This is not revenge, but an act to satisfy myself by killing some''thing'' who dares to belittle my family! He assured himself.

    Judge teleported to the studio, and with a snap of his fingers, traded his sophisticated attire for his new "mercenary" look. The heavy black sweater hugged his neck and wrists, which was fine, but he couldn''t shake the feeling that he looked more like he was about to write dark poetry than fight mythical beasts.

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    The thick clothes were also black, there was a sweater that covered his whole upper body, including his neck and wrist, but excluding the parts after the wrist. there was also a dark pant and a dark mask that was connected to another sleeveless black overcoat with a hoodie. Finally, there was a combat gove (Black of course) to finish off the look.

    Now, Judge looked like a young man who tried too hard to be a mercenary but ended up being an assassin instead.

    "Yep," he thought to himself, "this is exactly how I imagine a menacing mercenary looks. Just¡­ with a little less eyeliner."

    He pulled down his mask and the hoodie and exited the studio.

    Judge made his way through the bustling street, making his way toward a studio (Not his) to get his photo, after all, he could not become a mercenary without proper identifications. And to create fake identities, he needed pictures for himself.

    Ironically, being a cameraman, he still needed a less professional cameraman to take his photo.

    Standing in front of the studio (Which was not his), he swallowed his pride and went inside the place to get a photo for himself. But there was another problem, he did not have lesser denominated notes than ten stens, and this would only cost him about five nens.

    But he could not turn back now, he had already entered the shop.

    "Good evening." A sweet voice came from inside, it was a lady. She had ordinary features, but was cute, her blonde hair was braided neatly and rested on her shoulder. "Her to take picture? Or renting equipment?"

    "Take a picture," He answered without any emotions, but the girl was immediately frightened.

    "R-right away s-sir" She managed to muster a smile and led him through a curtain where many other customers were waiting for their turns. "Please wait here sir, we will call you when it is your turn. May I know your name?"

    "Dorian Caine"

    "Dorian Caine," She repeated to herself and tried to walk away briskly, but Judge turned to her.

    "I will give you ten stens if you can quickly finish the job," he said in a low voice, making sure nobody else heard it. The term "Ten Stens" was enough for him to get her attention.

    The woman''s eyes widened as he handed over the note, and Judge could practically see the girl''s mental math as she realized she was holding more than three weeks worth of her salary.

    "T-Ten stens?" she blurted out, looking around the room as if someone might be filming her. The customers nearby perked up instantly, turning their attention toward him with dollar signs practically sparkling in their eyes.

    The woman immediately clasped her mouth, knowing what she had done. "Yes Sir!" She bowed and hurried off.

    The uncomfortable gazes grew more uncomfortable by the second, now the feeling that stood out the most was doubt. And in order to clarify, he looked at the people present and let out a small portion of his will, turning all of the previous feelings into fear.

    The woman soon came back with a middle-aged man wearing a monocle and a top hat. The man immediately led Judge to a room that was far more decorated than the previous one. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Sir, this is a VIP room, made for rich people who need the job to be done quickly, please take a seat and I will ensure the picture reaches you quickly." His voice was not deep, but it had a rough edge.

    Judge looked at the "VIP room," looking around at the gilded decor and the bright red velvet curtains, all while the photographer fussed with angles and lighting. It felt like an opera house, not a photography studio.

    "A bit grand, don''t you think?" Judge murmured.

    The photographer adjusted his monocle with style. "Not at all, sir! Only the finest for our finest clients."

    Without another word, Judge sat on the ornate and extremely comfortable stool. There was a red curtain in the background. The cameraman (Not Judge, but the middle-aged one) gave him instructions on his posture and took a few pictures.

 Chapter 112 Why Yes, Im Here to Commit Fraud â€“ Thank You for Asking

    The photographer showed Judge all the printed photos, who chose the one he thought was the best. The man then put the photo inside an ether-powered color printer and made multiple copies. All of this would only go as far as one or one and a half sten, but Judge paid ten stens since he did not have much change.He had spent a total of thirty stens on clothing with a two sten and four sen being a tip.

    Collecting the envelope containing his photos, Judge quickly made his way past the door and into the street.

    He walked out into the street, his mind already on his next step, when he caught four gazes on him. Ah, he thought, how refreshing, some people who haven''t yet learned to mind their own business. He let out an exasperated sigh. He really wasn''t in the mood to entertain them, but then again, a little alleyway confrontation might be just what he needed to "kill" some time.

    Having enough time until night to do his next task of forging a fake identity, he decided to beat up someone. Yeah, not the best solution, but they asked for it. He put on his hoodie and turned into an alley, inviting the four men in poor dress into the alley with him.

    Judge put on his mask and turned invisible right after he had turned around a corner, but he made sure they had seen him.

    The men who followed him did not wait around as they went after him, only to find the place empty. Fear enshrouded them as they realized what they had done. They went after a man in suspicious clothing after being blinded by money.

    The man in dark clothes appeared behind them, and without giving them any time to react, he conjured a stick from the ground and started to beat them mercilessly. They were just tramps, but he did not care.

    Amidst the beating Jude realized one thing, there was something connecting the four men and an outside force. It was ether, and it made Judge connect all the dots.

    Firstly, the tramps were not inside the shop to begin with, and there was no way that they knew he was rich just based on his clothes. So someone told them, but it seems that it was not ''telling'', but mind controlling.

    Mind controlling, as Judge knew, was an extremely hard principle to grasp. I wonder how the person behind this did it.

    Judge activated the recording once more and followed the ether to its source, but the flow had been cut off and the instigator had escaped. He was trying to know if I had even a bit of strength before robbing me! How careful, maybe I will give this person what it likes to be robbed of something precious, maybe something like... life.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was nighttime, after finding his way through the dark alleyways, Judge stopped after making sure no one was watching him.

    He put on his mask and became invisible by hitting record. In this state, he was invincible and the fastest being in all of existence, but he still was only grasping the basics and definitely was not the fastest... yet.

    The moon was painting the unlit places with a blue tint. He could now head into the government Municipal office building and go for the Department of Civil Affairs to create a fake identification document.

    He had already put a few necessary things inside the studio, an aged paper, a pen, and a few runes of quietude. Those runes let him make an enclosed space of complete silence, no sound would escape or be created. The only downside was that no sound could get in either, making it hard to notice if someone was coming, but he had a spirit.

    Runes, as he had heard from his grandfather, were only known to the Dragons. To other races, while they knew a few, and only a few, they couldn''t use it, so defense against runes was not found outside the land of dragons.

    In his cameraman state, Judge made his way inside the municipal hall and toward the Department of Civil Affairs. He had ordered Lucifer to observe this place beforehand in order to understand how things go here and where things were kept.

    There were only a few night security guards, after all, this was not a bank and did not need that much protection. But this was a place where important documents of both the government and the people were kept, so security was still necessary to an extent.

    Judge made his way past all of them unnoticed and got inside the office, after scanning the area, he made his way toward the Civil Affairs Department according to his memory.

    Not having fully grasped the cameraman''s state yet, he could only do stuff like phase through thin walls or doors, and also be invisible as well as invincible, that too to a certain extent. He did not know up to what extent his invincibility could hold, but he knew better than to try.

    The hallways were long and wide with many rooms and signs on each side. Finally, he saw a sign that read "Department of Civil Affairs". He sighed and made his way to the left hal. After just a few strides, he entered a large hall, this was where the identification documents like birth certificates and citizenship documents were created and kept.

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    Judge took out the things he needed after heading inside the studio and started his mission. He first summoned Seraphis, who appeared like a small, low-level spirit. But he had many skills of a high-level spirit, though less effective. One was thought transmission, this would ensure Judge could go invisible if any security comes this way.

    He took out the paper and went near a table, the sign on the table read "Citizenship application". A small smile crept up on his face behind his mask, people had to wait for days if not weeks for their children to get a citizenship certificate, it was necessary for many things.

    Many things like opening a bank and getting into the mercenary guild needed official documents to prove your identity, and they also needed your photo. This was a big reason why there were many customers at the photo studio.

    Judge sighed and took out a thick card with an inscribed rune quietude, it was a simple inscription with a diagonal square inside a circle. He placed it on the ground and said slowly, "Silence!"

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 Chapter 113 Do try this at home... or government offices

    The eerie silence of the night was undisturbed, but the sound barrier gave Judge additional security against.. the security... guards, how ironic.He slowly proceeded to take his pen and an application paper, filling it was the first step. There were three types of application forms, one was basic, which most use and cost only two nen. The other two were for people who needed it quickly, one was for people who paid a premium for the quick which would come around seven sen.

    The third was the fastest, the office term for it was quick paper, it would only take a few hours and at most a day. But the premium was exorbitantly high, it was three sten. Only the aristocrats and the other equally rich families used it.

    After writing the details, he then proceeded to paste his picture on the required column. The next step was the typewriter, printing out all of his details into the old paper he had long prepared for this moment.

    He took the paper from the typewriter and double checked the details. After making sure everything was as he wanted, he put the premium application paper along with the old paper in the small stack of premium papers on the table.

    He had filled out the application form as a re-apply, which many give when they lose their existing document and was not rare, but there should be a document within the department. Judge just forged a fake document to put it within the department, and with the re-apply request, he could create another copy for himself without any issues.

    The reason he did not take quick papers was because they were rare and never passed a night, they would be finished quickly and would be finished before the officer went home. So his request would stand out and receive unwanted attention as well as suspicion

    He had not filled out any address so he had to come and collect it himself, and he would come back here to the office tomorrow. With all of that done, Jude canceled the effects of the rune of quietude and called back his spirit.

    Finally, Judge canceled the effects of his rune of quietude, and in the dead of night, he sauntered out like an invisible ghost. He grinned, thinking, "Best disguise in the world: being completely unseen. Who''d have guessed?"

    As for lodging, Judge had to forgo even the seediest inn. Apparently, identification was required for everything these days, even a brothel''s most humble room. With a sigh, he retreated to his personal studio¡ª a blessed realm of peace and privacy¡ª and got some sleep. The city could wait until tomorrow. Eating could, too; he wasn''t about to tackle a meal with two empty hands that had no lower denominations of notes.

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    Is this what it is like to suffer from success? I have more wealth than these peasants could handle. His thoughts wandered.

    Eating was moved to the afternoon because he did not feel like eating anything before he had gotten the identification documents and opened a bank account.

    The bustling city was living up to its name as one of the most densely populated cities. Judge made his way through the city landscapes, recording the place as well as people''s lives.

    The long walk Judge ended in an alleyway without any people... again, Another trip to the alleyway, Great! I feel like more of a connoisseur of the urban backstreet instead of a mercenary or a divine existence about to take over the world. But at least this place is a lot cleaner, that''s a big upside. Sigh! Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge summoned his pocket watch from the studio to take a look at it, the time was about eleven, and the municipality starts at nine, two hours should be plenty for his application to be completed.

    He put the pocket watch away. Due to the nature of the work of the mercenaries, they usually used a combat oriented watch specially designed to be as hard and unbreakable as possible, and Judge had forgotten to buy one. The salesman or woman would have suggested the watch part to him, but being too intimidating did not help. Maybe I should have gone for a more easygoing, fun personality. Sigh! You cannot change what you''ve chosen.

    On his way, across the street, Judge saw a signboard on a restaurant¡ª "Fine worrak steak, one sten five sen only." He swallowed his saliva, and his stomach let out a traitorous grumble. After the bank matter is settled, that restaurant is my first stop, you''re next, my delicious friend. he made a mental note and sighed.

    Soon, he found himself before the ''not so towering, yet huge'' building of the municipality. His gaze shifted to the people waiting outside as he let out an exasperated sigh, How much time is this gonna take?

    A worker in a security uniform appeared near him. The uniform consisted of a long coat with a mix of deep blue and charcoal black with strips of burgundy separating them. "Name and purpose." He said with no emotions like he had done this countless times before (Grave plot twist, he had indeed done this countless times before).

    "Dorian Caine," Judge replied, also without much emotion. "I''ve re-applied for new citizenship documents," he had answered coldly in order to keep up with his new identity.

    The guard worker sized him a few times before writing something in the hardcover book he was holding. "Wait here." He quickly headed to the worker who was busily scribbling something down in a book, he sat on a table that was put under a stone shed.

    The guard told him something and the man nodded, taking out a pile of big brown envelopes that were sealed. He skimmed through them and took one out from the middle, double-checking it and writing something down before giving it to the guard.

    The guard took the big envelope and headed back towards Judge, giving him the envelope and a clearly forced smile.

    Judge gave him a respectful nod, trying not to laugh. It was clear as day¡ª this man despised his job. But of course, who was Judge to judge?

 Chapter 114 Maybe You Cant Buy Happiness, But You Can Buy Lunch

    Judge walked through the grand halls of the backwater bank''s Limdon branch. The decorations were all mostly wood, the floor was made with black and white checkered tiles and red carpets on the paths.Many crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, Judge counted five, but there was definitely more. Without standing around and marveling at its beauty as many people did, Judge checked the coupon he received and waited for a bank teller to call his number.

    Soon, the first call for coupon "B35" was made, and he swiftly made his way toward the free bank teller. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Good morning Sir, how may I be of service to you?" The teller was not intimidated by his presence, this was because there was some basic combat prowess required for bank employees due to places like the bank being a criminal magnet.

    "Good day to you too mister, I require assistance in opening a new bank account" Judge answered, his deep voice adding to the authoritative presence.

    "Documents," The teller seemed pleased with his behavior, this was because of his tone which indirectly conveyed the fact that he knew how things worked around here. This was a relief from the usual customers whom he needed to hold their hands through every procedure.

    Judge understood what he meant, he reached for his leather purse. The leather was made from the hide of a monster called Vargash, a giant boar with skin as hard as iron and highly sought after due to the high market price for most of its parts, especially the hide, which was as tough as its high price.

    He quickly opened it, pulled out the fresh Eldris Citizen identity card, and handed it over to the worker.

    The teller looked through the card''s details and promptly slid it into a ''large but not ridiculously large'' cardholder with only one lonely place for a single card, as if it were designed for the most important card in the world¡ª one so exclusive that it took a mansion to live in¡ª you know, like one of those pointless luxury items where the designers ran out of ideas and just made everything unnecessarily huge, as if the size of the box somehow adds to the value.

    Both of them waited silently for the process to be completed after closing the lid. It did not take long as the lid opened with a click and a ~ding~ sound. Judge heaved a sigh of relief as if it somehow relieved him of his boredom, the teller did not waste much time as he quickly pulled out a paper and put it on the typewriter, filling in the details.

    click click click

    The silence ensued with only the sound of printing letters ringing in Judge''s ears. There were countless noises as it was a public place, but his only focus was the typewriter and the paper it was printing on.

    Soon, the sound of typing was finished as the teller took the paper and put it inside another box, but this time, the box time was over quickly. The next step was to register Judge''s ether, and that was as quick as injecting a tiny bit of his ether into the ether frequency recorder.

    "Deposit," The bank teller said in a demanding yet polite tone, it was as if asking Judge to figure out the rest. But he did not complain as he knew there was not an ounce of disrespect in his voice if anything at all, he was seen as a better literate person than most of the customers by this worker.

    Judge pulled out three hundred sten notes, two fifty sten notes, and ten of ten sten notes. (I actually wanted to say "Ten ten sten notes", but that''s hella confusing) After purposefully counting it in front of the teller and acting a little careless, he had successfully built the image of being a rich person with too much money to spare.

    The teller took his money without so much care and wrote a receipt for five hundred stens and handed it over to Dorian Caine, who tipped his hoodie (Because of course, he did not have a top hat) and left quietly after taking back his identity card.

    Right after leaving, Judge went back inside and went to the counter that said "Withdrawals / Deposits". He went behind the queue behind the seven counters.

    A substantial amount of time had passed since taking out money was not as quick as back when he was on earth and had technological backing. Soon, he found himself in front of the wall that had a card slot, a number pad, a slot for the money to be withdrawn, a space to deposit money, and a stone for recognizing the ether of the owner.

    One could also use a catalyst containing ether and their card to withdraw money from banks. But it was still safe since the owner had to willingly provide their ether for the catalyst if anyone needed to make money.

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    Judge placed the card in the respective slot, injected a minute amount of ether into the stone, and typed in the amount of money he needed.

    Money soon came out of the long, rectangular slot and Judge took his card and the money back. The money he now had totaled fifty sten, all in change. He now had enough money to do whatever he wanted without worrying about the change.

    But a sudden thought struck him, this was a pretty populated area, so most businesses wouldn''t have any difficulties in providing him with changes for ten sten, even though most products or services did not cost that much, they still make that much in a single day.

    He sighed, the weighty realization that he had endured an hour-long ordeal for the smallest denomination possible, struck him like that volume on how to understand women. After all that, he could have saved himself the trouble and just gone straight to lunch.

    He sighed again and went to eat his favorite food after a long day of starving.

 Chapter 115 Clowning Around in the Dark

    Judge leaned back in his seat, fingers lightly drumming on the edge of the table as he took in the noisy ambiance around him. The tavern wasn''t particularly fancy, but it had the rustic charm that brought in the sort of crowd that barely noticed an oddball like him. And considering his attire of mercenary garb, he felt just eccentric enough to fit right in¡ª though perhaps "eccentric" was a bit of an understatement.

    He observed the locals, straining his ears to catch any useful chatter while appearing to casually wait for his meal. The snippets of conversation that floated by were woefully dull, revolving around crop yields, whose goat had wandered off, and someone''s alarming discovery of what a "modern bath" was supposed to be like. Fascinating stuff, really. Judge rolled his eyes beneath his mask that he had put on after exiting the bank. Mercenaries having masks was nothing new. He was wondering if these folks ever spoke of anything remotely intriguing.

    Finally, his steak¡ª a hefty slab of worrak meat¡ª arrived, steaming on a pristine white serving platter alongside an assortment of colorful, finely sliced vegetables. The presentation was so unexpectedly polished that Judge had to pause, admiring it like a fine work of art and wondering if he had accidentally went into a fancy restaurant. "Ten out of ten on the presentation," he murmured, giving the food a mockingly appreciative nod.

    But as he went to pick up his fork, he realized something¡ª wearing a mask might save him some face, but when it came to food, masks were kinda ''in the way''. He sighed and removed the white smiley face while giving himself a deprecating laugh, Did I really climb up to be a top businessman? Or were the people just dumb?

    Judge slowly ate the tasty treat, savoring every bite, it was that delicious.

    They did the worrak meat justice! He vowed to give them a huge tip after he finished the meal. After he had eaten a huge chunk of the meat, he hesitantly started to eat the neatly cut vegetable pieces, but decided not after a few bites. They were flavourful, not was not his cup of tea. (Well duh! They are veggies, not tea)

    He left the restaurant after paying the bill plus one sen tip. The food only cost him two sen, so he left half the food''s price just as a tip, Wow, I am rich.

    His studio was his best friend, because even if he could not conjure new things, he could still change the appearance of anything, including himself and other non-living things, but just not the base material. The reason why Judge bought new clothes despite the option to change appearance was because his original attire was made of materials that would attract unwanted attention.

    Today, he decided to change into a terrifying appearance in order to infiltrate the assassin gathering. And what was more creepy than a suited clown who smiles a bit too brightly while torturing you to death... Sweet. Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire

    As night crept in, Judge glided through the alleyways, heading toward a pub without many customers, an old stone structure that housed an assassin''s gathering underground¡ª a secretive den where hired killers lounged, took requests, and dealt in death. He activated the recording and slipped inside undetected.

    Passing through the initial customers who were either clueless and just came in expecting a cheap drink, or someone with enough money to hire a killer. He headed towards the kitchen, and there, without trying hard to cover, was a flight of stairs leading into a dark underground. He sighed and headed down, entering a rather crowded pub that was more silent than the one above.

    Inside, he saw a smattering of the "fine" employees lounging, one carving intricate designs on his dagger, another counting coin, a third muttering ominously about "fate''s twisted sense of humor." Ah, the usual assassin talk¡ª dark, brooding, and ever so repetitive.

    "Evening, friends," Judge greeted in a high, mocking tone, spreading his arms as though giving a speech. The group jolted up, eyes narrowing as they sized up the grinning clown who had unceremoniously entered their sanctum.

    "Who''re you supposed to be, the circus''s lost dupe?" one of them sneered, flexing his fingers over the hilt of a knife.

    "Oh, you wound me," Judge replied, feigning hurt as he theatrically clutched at his chest. "But I''ll be straightforward. Which one of you delightful folk was hired to go after the Drakonis family? It''s not polite, you know, to disrupt a family."

    There was a beat of silence before laughter broke out, the assassins clearly unimpressed by the flamboyant intruder. Judge didn''t mind. In fact, he relished it. Because he''d already spotted his first target, while it was not visible to most people, Judge could somewhat feel the fluctuations in one''s state of mind.

    Now this was not because he was special in any way, this was just one of his genuine attempts he had in order to get stronger. He had tried to create a principle for reading people''s minds or just understanding emotions better. It was not an unexpected outcome when he had failed in doing so. But he had gotten a better hold of the principle and could feel tiny fluctuations in emotions.

    The person he felt the fluctuation from was the worker behind the counter, there were already people coming towards him, itching for a fight.

    Judge''s lips curled up, his mask was already smiling as much as a human could possibly muster. But the smile behind his mask revealed a state of pure thirst for blood, If only I could get a gun! He thought to himself before pleasing himself with blood.

    Aaaaaghhh!

    The man closest to the clown screamed, the hand he had put forward had been cut clean. Blood was gushing out and staining the wooden floor. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Everyone, even the assassins who did not mind the crazy clown sat up alarmingly. Three people dressed in a maroon vest came forward to confront him, and one man tried to help the injured man.

    Suddenly, the man whose hand was cut off, his head too got neatly ''separated'' from his body. This was the principle called "Mark", Judge could mark opponents and cut them however he liked, a principle taught by his grandfather.

    Judge felt happy when he saw the opponents highly on their guard and not attacking despite losing one of their teammates. The assassins were not good at direct combat, and if the workers who were good at combat only amounted to this much, I don''t have to teleport away!

    The bloodied clown mask got ready for his next attack.

 Chapter 116 The clown of sinister smirk

    Lester stumbled back, eyes wide as the bloodied clown mask tilted ever so slightly in his direction. Around him, the other workers screamed as their hands were severed cleanly, each appendage thudding to the floor in syncopated horror. Judge''s grin behind the mask mirrored the painted, eerie smile on the mask itself, creating a dual expression of joy and malice that chilled Lester to his core.

    A hulking assassin rushed forward with a snarl, daggers flashing as he lunged, only for Judge to pivot gracefully, sidestepping and swinging his arm in a sharp, decisive arc. The assassin''s torso split open, blood spraying across the bar''s stained wooden walls.

    The man choked, falling to his knees before collapsing in a heap, his weapon slipping from his fingers. Another assassin, visibly shaking yet driven by desperate fury, charged Judge from behind with a hidden blade aimed for his spine. Judge laughed¡ª a sound that resonated high and mocking¡ª as he spun around, catching his attacker''s wrist mid-air. With a sickening crack, he twisted it, forcing the man to scream as his bone shattered, splintering through his skin.

    "Is this all the renowned assassins of this establishment can manage?" Judge taunted, his tone chilling, his fingers dancing in a fluid motion as he maneuvered through the swarm of panicked attackers.

    The remaining assassins hesitated, their breaths ragged, eyes darting from one another to the corpse-littered floor. Judge''s mask, spattered with blood, watched them intently, his figure was an eerie stillness amid the chaos. An assassin staggered back, eyes filling with dread as Judge marked him with a single pointed finger. The man tried to flee, but before he could take a second step, his knees buckled, and his legs detached at the thighs, severed cleanly with Judge''s "Mark" principle. He screamed, clawing at the floor, leaving crimson streaks behind him as Judge calmly walked past.

    Desperation filled the air as the assassins regrouped, forming a tight circle around Judge, their weapons drawn in trembling hands. Lester watched them, breathless, heart pounding so loudly he thought it might betray his hiding spot behind a toppled table, he was not a coward, but the death of his friend had shaken his frail mind fortification. The room reeked of blood and sweat, and every glint of light seemed to bounce off Judge''s eerie mask, amplifying the terror radiating from the battered killers.

    Two assassins broke from the circle, thinking they''d flank Judge and catch him unawares. Judge smirked, shifting his stance, his gaze flickering between the two as though weighing his options. With a swift movement, he pointed at one¡ª his Mark¡ª and in a heartbeat, the man''s arm dropped to the ground, blood spurting from the wound. Before his scream could even echo, Judge''s hand shot out, grabbing the other man by the throat, squeezing as the assassin struggled, his eyes bulging in terror.

    "You thought your numbers could make a difference?" Judge sneered, his voice cold and dripping with scorn. "It''s almost endearing." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the assassin''s neck, letting his limp body drop to the floor.

    Lester''s pulse hammered as he watched the remaining assassins finally break, the thin veil of courage ripped away. They scrambled for the stairs, fighting each other in blind panic, their only instinct now to escape. Judge moved with a calm demeanor, marking each one he saw fleeing, and in an instant, their limbs fell or bodies collapsed, lifeless, before they could even reach the first step.

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    And then, silence. The bar was filled with bodies, the once bustling hideout now a blood-soaked burial. Only Lester remained, breathing heavily, his back pressed against the wall, hands shaking as he clutched his blood-soaked dagger¡ª his only remaining defense. He looked up as Judge turned toward him, his dark silhouette looming, the painted, sinister grin on his mask more terrifying up close. Lester''s breath hitched as the bloodied clown mask inched closer, Judge''s aura exuding an overwhelming, deathly calm.

    "W-Who¡­ who are you?" Lester stammered, his voice breaking, desperation thick in his tone.

    Judge paused, his gaze cool as ice beneath the smiling mask. He leaned in close, his voice a mere whisper that chilled Lester to his core.

    "I am... The Clown of Sinister Smirk."

    A tremor ran through Lester as the final words sank in, a name that he realized would haunt his last living moments. He let his grip on the dagger go as he realized it would be of no use, but he still had to live, he had a family... something¡ª something that would let him live... suddenly he remembered something.

    "I... I know who commissioned the killing of the young lady of the Drakonis house!"

    Judge paused, "You should have said that sooner, see..." He waved his hand at the dead corpses, "All of them died for the information that you withheld, they died because of you."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber fiddled with a dagger that her father had given her. It had a crimson handle and sheath with a black catalyst embedded at the back. He said that it was for her own safety. It was a powerful artifact with a serious side effect that would render one immobile after prolonged use, so she had to be careful with how she used it.

    Her father had told her about something she and her siblings could have long known but had never been told to, it was a secret in their house in the Wistmere city, the capital of the wyverns, but mostly without wyverns (Children) of course.

    Inside the Wistmere house, there were substitutes for each of the family members who were in the main house. And if they leave the house in the land of the dragons, except for their trip towards the Wistmere house, their substitutes may or may not vanish.

    Now that her substitute had been killed, the next process should have been to create another substitute. But considering their arrival in a few days, that was deemed unnecessary because of the complex process involved in creating a substitute.

 Chapter 117 Father Knows Best... Except About Books

    "Amber!" Alex entered the bridge deck with all the grace of a wind-blown leaf, startling Amber, who had been fiddling with something in her hand. She looked up to see him hovering in the window like some sort of overzealous bird of prey.

    "Stop fiddling around with that knife and put it away, and make sure nobody... Not even dragons would see them." Alex instructed, his tone a mix of fatherly concern and an overdramatic sigh as if she was a kid playing around with a knife (Which she was).

    Amber nodded in confusion as to why the very same dragon that gave her the knife was so worked up over it being seen by her own species.

    "Not even dragons... Okay?" Alex''s voice dropped like he was explaining the importance of not feeding a wild bear candy.

    Amber now nodded firmly. Alex seemed satisfied with the nod, that was the response he was looking for. Though it was questionable if he was even aware of what he just asked. He did not press on and watched her put the dagger away on a leather strap on her thigh underneath the deep navy skirt, which looked more like she was hiding a small sword than anything else, but hey, safety first.

    "So, how many more days until we reach Wistmere?" Amber tried to break the tension with small talk, clearly not interested in whatever dangerous ''knife-averse dragons'' nonsense her father was spouting.

    "Two days," Alex replied, pulling out his pocket watch like some dramatic old-timey wizard summoning mystical forces. He flipped it open with the flair of someone who''d just discovered timekeeping magic. "In fact, half a day more and you''ll start seeing wyverns flying about."

    "Huh?!" Amber was surprised, as this information was wrong on so many levels based on her understanding of the world. There are no wyverns, right? Even if the wyverns are dragons, Mom and Melina told me that there are scare amount of dragons who go to Wistmere. So how come we will be able to see wyverns flying around? S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    As if reading her thoughts, her father smiled and began explaining things to her. "Your mother and Melina were trying to play a little joke on you. They do enjoy that. Don''t ask me for the details though, I don''t understand their humor. And frankly, I don''t care."

    "So there are many dragons who come from our land to the wyvern capital Wistmere?"

    "No, that''s where you are wrong."

    "So what is it then?"

    "You see, there is a very thick barrier separating the land of the dragons, or as if the older dragon called it Terra draconum. I do not know the properties of this barrier, there are records of how it works in the house, but that''s for your Grandfather, Mother, and Melina to read I am too smart to read books."

    "Wait!" Amber interrupted him, "Aren''t books supposed to make you smarter?"

    Alex paused, he answered her after thinking for a moment. "Someone asked me the exact same question before, and do you know what I told them?"

    Amber sighed, clearly in for one of his wisdom speeches. "Tell me, Dad. Enlighten me."

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    "I told them that I do not need to read, why should I waste my life buried in books when life is just there to experience, a world to be experienced? I don''t need a book to teach me more than I have to experience myself, I will create a history that others will read."

    Amber blinked, the gears of her brain struggling to turn. "But, Dad, that sounds like a really fancy excuse for not reading a book."

    Alex chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly, "It''s not an excuse, it''s a lifestyle."

    "Learn this, Amber," he said, all serious now, though still proudly smirking, "Knowledge comes from what we live, not from dusty old books. Sure, books might say something, but I prefer to live it and tell the tale."

    Amber was about to ask how he''d ever learned to read in the first place, but decided against it. After all, his opinions were often like his favorite ale¡ª bitter, strong, and best taken in small doses.

    "Dad," she finally said, smiling innocently, "When we reach Wistmere, I''ll give you a book. A really good one too. I want you to read it cover to cover, and then you''ll tell me the story."

    Alex''s expression morphed into one of dread. "But¡­ Did you not just hear my entire philosophy about reading? I¡ª"

    Amber smiled sweetly. "Okay?"

    "...hmmm."

    "Dad, do you love me?"

    Alex looked at her, confused, but softened. "Of course, I love you, dear."

    "Then read it. For me. I''m sure you''ll enjoy it."

    "Alright," Alex sighed, resigned. "But remember, I''m doing this for you, not because I''ve had some sudden change of heart about books." He let out a dramatic sigh, as if taking on an insurmountable burden. "Now, about those wyverns... Due to the barrier, going to and fro needs a key as well as the rune of traveling. So, the dragons inside Terra draconum and outside it seldom cross the borders. But you can teleport outside if you have at least one of the countless keys, even without the rune for traveling."

    "Now that there are countless dragons outside the border who do not come in, you know why there are countless wyverns outside the land of dragons."

    "So they never transform into true dragons?"

    "There are people who have never transformed into their racial forms in their entire life¡ª probably reading books or something."

    This too came as a surprise to the young girl who had never experienced the world, she began to think about her father''s words, while she disagreed with the book part, she agreed with him about having to experience life and the world.

    Amber smiled, humor still playing on her lips. "Dad, just promise me one thing. When you die, don''t go out in a library."

    Alex''s face lit up, like the scene in an old comedy play. "Ah, Amber, I most likely will die in a library!" He chuckled. "Because my whole family is obsessed with books, unlike most other dragons. I have to save you all as the only one who doesn''t go insane from reading too much. You can thank me later."

    "At least I''m not a bookworm," Amber quipped back. "So, you better keep your eye on the others, especially Judge."

 Chapter 118 Its All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses a Head

    "The Clown of Sinister Smirk!" Lester sputtered, voice trembling as if it might break. His hands clutched his temples, eyes wild with terror. "He wore this...this clown mask! A grinning mask, like¡ªlike a deranged jester." He shivered, glancing down at the red pool on the floor, barely whispering, "And blood. So much blood."

    All three officers stood around Lester, their uniforms spotless¡ªwell, except for the accidental splashes of blood on their boots, which they were all valiantly ignoring. Navy blue and charcoal black with burgundy stripes, these uniforms were supposed to command respect. But in this butchered assassin den, they looked like mismatched figures in a gory art exhibit. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

    One of the police officers, Officer Murphy, raised an eyebrow, nudging his partner. "Let me guess," he muttered, "our mystery man''s got a flair for the dramatic?"

    "Sir, this is not a place for jokes," A female officer said alarmingly, her outfit had a slight difference, she had a high-waisted trouser instead of the normal ones that the male officers wore.

    "Yeah Yeah, You don''t have to tell me that all the time, I am trying to lighten the mood here." Officer Murphy replied.

    They were still inside the assassin''s gathering, the floor was a pool of blood, and most of the corpses were mutilated beyond comprehension. The primary analysis was that the killer seemingly had a great hatred for them, possibly an assassin from here had assassinated someone close to them and incurred their wrath.

    Normally, as this place was an assassin''s den, the police obviously had no idea of its existence. However, due to many previous events including mass sacrifices for certain rituals, there was a monitoring artifact set up covering the whole city that could detect any mass murderings. That way, the high-ranking individuals in the army were all immediately dispatched as soon as they found an anomaly.

    "The clown of sinister smirk." another one of the officers repeated, mostly to himself, as if he was contemplating hardly on the name. After a while, he returned to his commanding posture and continued his questioning.

    "What did he ask you, why did he let you live?"

    Lester gulped, eyes darting around as if the clown might leap out from behind the officers. "He asked about the ¡­my commission to, y''know, off someone. Then he just... he just stared at me with that awful smile."

    His whole body was shaking, he crossed his arms and held himself together, he had pissed his pants and was crying like a child¡ª that was the fear the terrifying clown had given him.

    "Who was the target?" S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But there was no answer, he shivered in fear. "I-I can''t tell, I would die... please." He held his head, his eyes hollow.

    If anything, the police understood one thing¡ª there was something keeping him from speaking.

    "Alright, take him in for questioning," Officer Murphy barked, he seemed to be the superior of the two "And get him some clean pants." And then after looking around, he continued. "Take him to the asylum after the procedures are done, he would need time to recover."

    "Yes Sir!" The other two officers shouted.

    Lester, who could not think clearly and only had fear in his mind, gulped. He just wanted to get out of this place that teemed with the thick, crimson liquid called blood.

    Just as he was about to exit, the officer turned back and asked in a more calmer, yet oppressive voice. "Who commissioned you to kill the target?"

    Lester froze, he looked directly at the officer''s deep black eyes, "It was me... another me."

    Just as he said that¡ª a thin, crimson line appeared on his neck, as they all watched, his head fell to the ground, and all that was left¡ª was a cleanly cut, headless body.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Yes! That''s how you say that.

    Judge sat straight and rested his back on the tall backrest of his huge throne, he was inside his studio and was watching the whole scenario unfold. He first wanted to question the guy and make him accept to work for him to bring him under the influence of the scriptwriter.

    But just as he began his questioning, he sensed many people approaching. They likely had not sensed him because there would not be anything to sense when he had put on the cameraman''s mask.

    Sensing the approaching individuals, he had marked the guy and headed to the studio (after sighing of course) in a jiffy. He initially wanted to take the trembling worker to the next dimension with him but decided against it because he was curious as to what the man would say to the incoming people who most probably were reinforcements or the police.

    He was not worried about not being able to question the man since he could do that whenever he wanted and wherever he wanted, it was just a matter of politely inviting the guy into his throne room.

    Now that he had gotten what he needed, he no longer had the need for the guy. Killing the guy in such a way when the police are watching was a great way to get captured since they were all people with high power and could sense where a principle was cast from and immediately lock on to the target.

    But he was not worried since he was casting the principle from inside his domain which nobody can sense or enter. (hopefully)

    Doing this inside the studio had another use, since the highly powerful inspectors could not sense his presence despite casting a principle right in front of their eyes, they would be convinced that he was extremely powerful because they could not detect an incredible powerhouse even if the said person were to cast a principle right in front of them.

    "That clown is truly from the Drakonis house." He heard the officer say, and the others nodded in response. His voice did not have the commanding tone from before.

    With this, Judge thought, The name of ''The Clown of Sinister Smirk'' would spread. And he would watch them speak his name, with a smirk on his face, inside his domain¡ª The Studio.

 Chapter 119 Transformation Isnt That Special, Okay?

    Judge started to seriously ponder over what the man had just said, He says that it is another him, which most probably translates to a person who can transform. Another "him"? Really? The guy said it like it was some magical rarity. And sure, transformation was supposed to be rare...except he''d already seen two people pulling it off this week alone. "Come on," he muttered under his breath. "At least try to act scarce."

    But fine, he had other things to consider. For instance: why on Ether would the commissioner pop in as some common worker? That was practically an open letter saying, "I can shapeshift!" Either the commissioner was screaming it to the world on purpose, or...he had a very odd sense of self-importance.

    There seem to be two reasons, at least as far as I can deduce¡ª one is that there are some limitations to his principle, giving him no choice but to appear in the other party''s form. The other possible reason would be that he wanted the other party, not just the worker but anyone who interrogates him, to know that he could transform. So as to say, it is futile to chase after me. Or it could be just both.

    Judge smiled, the commissioner was smart. He had won this time, but one way or the other Judge would catch him. There was only one way to catch that guy, and that was something he had left.

    If one takes the whole empire of Eldris¡ª excluding the dragons, there could barely be about fifty people who know and mastered transformation other than the racial transformation. Many dragons have created their own transformation principle (Yes the dumb species did) all stemmed from the principle of transforming into a wyvern.

    Judge leaned back in his seat, the high-backed throne he''d chosen for his latest bout of deep thinking giving way into a strange, squishy softness as the room warped around him. Just after the distortion, he was lying on his bed in a rather expensive hotel.

    One blink later, he was lying on a plush hotel bed that had eaten up 2 whole sen a night. "Pricey place for a guy planning to save the empire," he mused, though he didn''t pause to reconsider. A that would cost him that much amount for a night was considered very expensive.

    He wondered how much the dress altogether had cost him. His compulsive buying disorder was acting up and he had spent a large sum of 28 sten for it plus 2 sten tip, an amount that could get him a whole luxury dinner was spent just as a tip, and all of that for what? Just for the worker''s bemused expression. Was it satisfying? Absolutely, more people should try it if they can afford it.

    It wasn''t like he was low on funds, anyway. He had more than 5,000 sten socked away, a sum that could make even a wealthy family''s year. Let them marvel. Let them gawk. He was a Drakonis, and that meant excess spending was an expectation, not an exception.

    He did not have much thought on his decreasing wallet size, because to be precise, he had about 5800, which turned to 5300 after his initial withdrawals. And then it was turned to 5180 after he took out another 120 when he had put his whole money inside the bank.

    Currently, in his hand, he had 118 sten, 6 sen, and 3 nen. which was already a huge sum of money, most middle-class families who had occasional luxuries averaged around 150 sten as their yearly savings.

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    To put more into perspective, one could buy an entire estate with just 1000-2000 stens, so yeah, 5000 stens were definitely an overkill, but the Drakonis never cared about such an amount since in the family''s eyes, it was a cheap sum.

    Judge closed his eyes, with the blue moon shining on the patterned wall through the half-closed curtain.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Mr. and Mrs. Rivet were caught up in a long-overdue reunion, clung to each other like young lovebirds. Sure, they had their quirks. Noel, the assassin with a soft heart, could crumble at the sight of his wife shedding even one tear, while Isadora, the ever-dramatic lady, often considered life itself a long, drawn-out sigh. She had some nihilistic charm about her, where she''d ponder mortality just as someone else might ponder a coffee refill.

    In fact, she was still suicidal, but the thought of her husband crying over her death did not give her enough strength to do so. But if he were to die, she would probably try to die too.

    She cuddled her husband and held him close, wearing a dark pink, almost red nightgown. "Who are you supposed to kill this time, love?" Isadora murmured with the same nonchalance one might reserve for asking about weekend plans, brushing his hair with a distant smile.

    "The young miss of the Drakonis family." He answered as if confirming he''d remembered to pick up milk. They were not scared of anyone hearing since they had enough confidence that no one could sneak into their place unnoticed.

    But they had a slight mishap in their thought, the recorders had no qualms about being found out¡ª since there was no way that they could be found out, unless it was a god or something. And there was Asmodeus, the sin of lust. By courtesy of orders from Lucifer.

    Lucifer had put her in charge after it turned night and things turned... well... romantic. After all, she was into anything that was a little... fervent.

    She recorded the whole couple''s exchange without batting an eye or any concern about whether her master would be concerned about her mental well-being.

    "So, did you finish the job?" Isadora asked in a weak, monotonous tone, as if she was asking if he had a good breakfast.

    "Poor girl," Noel answered as if answering that he had a good breakfast.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was morning, and Judge had the best nap after a peaceful night of psychopathic murderings of several assassins and workers. He had created a fine blend of the corpses, literally. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Today, though, he wasn''t donning his usual clown attire; no, today, he was a man of mystery and wealth¡ª a respectable (cough, cough) mercenary with a story as unknown as it was unverified. And he was going to take any commission that was going get him some attention so he could establish some ties that could become useful.

    He leisurely entered the mercenary guild in his normal merc attire. The entrance was like a two-storied tavern, with the second story being a platform that wrapped around the inside edges of the hall, making it more of a viewing platform for any ongoing fights on the floor below.

    Bustling halls were nothing new to Judge, after all, he had spent a long ''45 minutes'' inside the bank. But this place was not just bustling, every nook and cranny was filled with people, they were sitting beside the tables, and some were chatting while leaning against a wall. In short, the place was a resthouse for mercenaries who always took on dangerous jobs.

    He saw many veterans sharing stories about their adventures with a few rookies were eagerly listening in. Judge wanted to join in and learn more about the world, but decided against it since he was not a rookie but an experienced one.

    Looking around, he spotted a woman furiously punching the keys of a typewriter behind a counter. She was engrossed, probably typing up some intense report, or maybe a spicy office romance. He gave a polite cough to get her attention, only to realize¡ª whoops, that was more "aristocratic" than "mercenary."

    So he did what any other respectable mercenary would do (if that line of profession could be called "respectable"), he rang the bell on the high counter, causing the woman to look up to see the dark figure.

    The woman looked up, adjusted her glasses, and gave him a once-over. "New here?" she asked, her tone as dry as stale toast. She didn''t bother with polite smiles or formalities, which was fine by Judge¡ªthe guild was less "customer service" and more "good luck, don''t die."

    Unlike most organizations that needed their employees to be respectful toward their clients, the mercenary guild had no such restrictions. And the client also liked the more informal tone, making them feel more at ease in the life-or-death profession.

    "I would like to register, and do some missions if available," Judge said in a young but cold voice.

    "Sir," The green-haired woman said with a questioning tone, "before you take on any missions we would need to confirm your level of skill, which would done via tests that you can choose according to your specialty." The worker wore brown leather armor, possibly enchanted, and her hair was tied up neatly to the back. She had a sword that was kept hanging on the thin wooden separation, kept in a position that was easy to draw. Surely, the guild was not a place to wear pretty, fights could break out at any moment if one was not careful.

 Chapter 120 Money matters, but it does not when your reputation is on line

    Without waiting for any further talks, Judge handed over his identification documents to the receptionist as soon as she held her hands out and started to say "Identifi..."

    Yeah, I know the ropes around here. He thought inwardly, but quickly suppressed those thoughts to not jinx himself.

    The receptionist with green hair adjusted her glasses and sized him up again... twice, before punching the keys and scanning through the document he gave. A short while passed and she made two copies of his documents as well as took an application sheet from on top of a nearby pile.

    She stood up, went near the telegram transceiver, put the paper into a compartment, and again started punching the keys. This time, the duration was pretty long, but after she got a confirmation that the identification documents were not fake, she printed details into the application document and gave him his original document.

    The sound of punching keys continued on for a while, after that, she looked at Judge and motioned him towards a door on the side, "You seem to know the ropes, you know what to do." Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    I jinxed it, didn''t I?

    It was the first thought that he had. He only knew about the document part, even the test part was new to him.

    "Not so experienced are you?" The woman said in a mocking tone after seeing no reaction from Judge, clearly frustrated by his earlier over-smart behavior.

    There were some eyes on Judge, even a blockhead could sense that they were mocking him, or could they? I dunno I am not an idiot. But this was something he was looking forward to. He just looked at the woman and smiled, "You''ll see."

    Under normal circumstances, the people around him would hardly notice someone who just came in. Though the tests were news to him, this did not hold him back from going through with the plan. It was simple, place as much attention as he can on him, one way or another, but without letting the other party know that he was trying to garner attention.

    In the original plan, the next step was to clear a pretty difficult, but not overly dangerous job and make others have a feeling that he was not a total newbie. This would let many mercs to place attention on him and he could widen his mercenary social circles. His current plan was even more simple, proving that he was not a total rookie in the tests.

    This would allow him to take appropriate commissions and spread the word of an unknown mercenary who was clearly past the rookie stage, or in other words... super rookie.

    The receptionist sighed, Hey sighing is a part of MY persona, you can''t do that! Judge quipped inwards. "Next step in the procedure is tests," She was back to her normal tone, which was not much of a development, but at this stage, it was more comfortable. "There are several tests available, all for different people with various skills, you can choose which one to take as per your expertise. The results will be valued on your performance of that part."

    "What all tests are there?"

    "As I said, there are really a great deal of tests, just tell me what you are good at."

    Judge stood straight and thought for a while, He had only been using swords for a while, but in his previous life, although he used swords, there was a side of him that nobody knew. It was a side that he had only told his partner... former partner in crime about.

    He was a master marksman!

    He leaned back, "I am experienced in the domain of sword, but I am more adept at using a gun."

    "Well if you are more adept at using a gun, then I suggest you go for the marksmanship test, of course, if you can pass tests for both, then that would be recorded. But let me warn you, there is a time frame between tests, you cannot attempt two tests at once or back to back. This is because there are several people trying to take tests.

    "There are also fees for tests, marksmanship test costs 5 sten, but you can also prove your worth via a commission were you would be accompanied by someone who would take the commission fees for themselves. This is an option if you do not have money."

    Wow! They sure are pros in the field, Judge contemplated for a few seconds, he had the money but killing monsters outdoors had a better feel to it when compared to shooting mannequins indoors, Tch! Lame! He clicked his tongue, but it was not audible.

    "What are the differences other than price?"

    The woman looked at him with pity, as if he were a beggar. He wanted to refute her silent judgment, to insist that he could afford the test, but something held him back.

    "Well, for starters, you cannot take any commission. The guild will allow you to choose from a few that they take. It would be to hunt for a monster, mostly for materials. And even if the commission was high, you would not get a nen. But rest assured, any treatment fees would be borne by the guild, as long as it does not exceed half of the commission.

    The indoors is relatively safer since the test will be held along with many other test takers and on the watch of two or more high-ranking mercs. There have never been any injuries since it only requires you to shoot moving and stationary targets. Many pay for the test since it is safer and the end result for both is your acceptance as a marksman-type mercenary."

    Judge thought for a bit more time, "I have the money, but I like the idea of going out more. Can I hire someone as a guard so I can take on a more dangerous mission?"

    The receptionist''s face went from doubting his "I have money" to a more stern expression. "Unfortunately that is not included in our test rules. So, what would you like, indoor or outdoor."

    Judge pondered for a brief moment, indoor selection would end quicker and would be relatively safe, he could then head out to hunt. But even though outdoor hunting seemed full of negative consequences, it was not with its own advantage.

    Firstly, he could spread his name quicker if he took the outdoor path. Thinking about it, if he took a test that only proved his accuracy and also with other contestants who could also do the same, he doubted if he could get as much attention from hunting a monster without help and with someone possibly of a good circle watching.

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    "I take the outdoors, I like to hunt monsters rather than being stuck inside a shooting hall, I am past those days." He toned it in such a way that the receptionist would think he was just trying to mask his inability to pay.

    And as he expected, it came, "Just be open about it if you have no money. Nobody is going to..."

    That was enough, he took out his purse and slammed a ten sten note on the desk. "Don''t talk to me about money, take this as a tip." While this may seem unnecessary, this was a crucial part of his plan that he just made up.

    This would enable him to be noticed by someone with a high standing and have a slight curiosity about how he obtained that money, and about his background, It would increase the possibility of a person with a good social circle coming to watch over his ''test'', letting him enter the circle more easily.

    And as expected, he could feel many gazes on him, but there were a handful that felt powerful, and one that felt like it was another Melina.

    "When would it begin?" He asked the flustered woman.

    "I-I will get it right away," She was more polite, but it was still not on the level of a normal receptionist.

    Minutes later, he saw the green-haired woman come in with a handful of flyers, all of them had pictures of various monsters in the front. "These are the commissions that you can choose from."

    Her hands are trembling a bit, and she seems a bit flustered, but she is good at composing herself. Judge took note, A high-ranking worker would have intervened in selection. The four rectangular sheets were laid out in front of him. All four were mid-predatory level monsters, but all of them had different advantages.

    One monster was the illusory fiend, it was a monster that was like a ghost but with a physical body. It was a monster that could be shot down, but it could create a huge load of illusions, making it a pain to fight.

    The second monster was the Veilcrawler, it was a monster with the appearance of a blob. It had a mist-like skin and multiple glowing eyes. The hard part about the monster was that it could constantly cloak itself in a thick mist that distorts vision. The fog is unnaturally dense, and the creature can shift its form within it, making it near-impossible to aim at.

    The third one... Judge smiled, it was the hardest.

 Chapter 121 When you try too hard to not Jinx it

    The third monster was called The Shrouded Grasper, a monster that was extremely hard to kill. All of the monsters presented to him had one thing in common, they were hard to kill with a ranged weapon that needed proper aiming, it was something especially curated for him, and they were not trying to hide it.

    The Shrouded Grasper was a more humanoid monster but with an outer layer that seemed to distort like smoke. The hard part began from its surroundings, it would constantly exude a layer of thick, black smog that it would use to hide its existence, so ranged attacks were a no-go.

    Its entire body was just a physical projection that it would use to move itself, so even if he shot it after taking care of the smoke it would still would not be enough. The real body was a precious tiny pearl that was somewhere within its physical projection. The pearl contained a lot of ether and so the monster was highly sought after, but the supply was low since there were not any effective ways to hunt it. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    So if he had to hunt it, he would have to offset the smog somehow, and then he had to locate and shoot at such an accuracy that it should hit the tiny core.

    Judge smiled, his excitement was building up. Such a fine prey, how could I pass up this opportunity?

    "I take this, Shrouded Grasper seems like a prey worth hunting." He revealed a gentle, yet dangerous smile. A smile that reminds one of a calm, serene lake that hides the depths of its hidden currents¡ª beautiful, but capable of swallowing you whole without warning. The receptionist shuddered, her trembling hands were shaking more.

    "Alright, The shroud grasper it is. We will provide you with something that you can use to collect only the core pearl after you kill it." She was quick to take back her composure.

    Judge nodded, he would shatter the whole pearl when he killed the monster. So having an artifact that could ''collect'' the core was something he needed. Unless of course, he liked spending time collecting all the fragments.

    As the receptionist was typing something, probably about who took which commission, Judge felt a hand on his shoulder¡ª a firm but gentle, yet rough and dangerous hand.

    He turned to look at who would be accompanying him in this commission, and as he had expected, it was the same gaze that he had especially paid attention to¡ª the gaze that was filled with a peaceful malice.

    "Are you the one who would accompany me?" Judge feigned ignorance.

    "Don''t act like you don''t know lad, you sensed my gaze didn''t ya?" The man had a rough voice, his dark blue hair had grey streaks. There was a long mark that started from his brow and spanned all the way over his closed eyes and across his left cheek. The other eye had a silver luster with a strong hint of the color red, he was almost two meters tall.

    "I don''t know what you are talking about." Judge still feigned ignorance, but he knew that response was the best there. The man gave a loud laugh, he then patted Judge''s back and motioned him to walk with the other hand.

    "Let''s collect material shall we?" He said as if he was sure that Judge would succeed.

    Judge need only to look once at the man, he knew that the person in front of him was a woman. A woman he had hoped to never meet, someone he was all too familiar with.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, out on the deck, Amber found the cold outside biting, but her father''s warm arm around her shoulder kept her cozy enough to ignore the chill. They stood on the edge of the Drakonis lands, with a dense fog enveloping them so thickly that she could barely see past her nose. Her father''s grip was firm, as if he thought she might drift away into the mist if he let go.

    Amber blinked repeatedly, trying to see past the fog that clung to everything. The mist dampened her face and felt odd against her eyes, but she didn''t want to miss what her father had promised would be an extraordinary view.

    "And now," her father, Alex, announced with theatrical flair, "behold! The grand vista of our lands, a sight to humble any heart! Just beyond this fog, dear Amber, you''ll see it all." He was clearly trying to sound grand, but the effect was closer to a wayward bard attempting to sound noble. Amber laughed, giving him an amused look.

    "Dad, really?" she giggled. "That''s so unlike you."

    Alex chuckled and shrugged, lowering his hat in mock defeat. "Alright, alright, I won''t oversell it." Explore hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire

    At last, the fog began to part, revealing a breathtaking sight. Amber''s eyes widened as her vision settled on a vast valley flanked by towering, snow-capped mountains. Below, lush, green valleys stretched endlessly, dotted with thick forests, and a grand river carved its way through the landscape, flowing gracefully from a large lake fed by three other rivers.

    High above, wyverns soared majestically in the clear blue sky, their wings glinting in the sunlight. Amber knew that these winged forms weren''t mere beasts¡ª they were her kin, dragons in their wyvern guise. The sight made her feel oddly at home, a sense of peace settling over her.

    In the valley below, she spotted a sprawling village, vibrant with activity. Fields of golden crops stretched for miles, with workers tending to their harvests, a beautiful testament to the strength of her people.

    "Wow!" She just stood there, not being able to say anything as she took the scene in all its grandeur. She felt like she had swallowed he tongue and was unable to speak. Her father was true when he said it was breathtaking¡ª she nearly forgot to breathe. Such was the beauty of the scenery, no wonder many chose to stay instead of heading to the land of dragons.

    It took a full minute for her to grasp the unbelievable feeling that she had left home after ten years, she had left the place, her home¡ª Terra Draconum.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Norris, the co-owner of a large legal arms dealing shop. Most customers inside the shop were mercenaries, with only a few being people from other professions.

    Soon, the doorbell tinkled and two people walked inside. One was wearing a plain white mask with a smiley face, while the other was a known mercenary who, although he was only seen around here for a year, was extremely strong.

    "I need a revolver and a long rifle, both ether-powered or gunpowder. No steam." The man in the mask said in a relatively younger voice compared to the man next to him.

    "Aah, right away Sir!" He answered with a smile. As he always dealt with mercenaries, he knew the level of their patience, they were all hot-tempered and disliked repeating themselves, at least most of them.

    Norris sprang into action, he was one of the owners of the shop. According to the partnership agreement, he would work in the shop and manage it, but he would also be paid for it accordingly which was given before the revenue was split.

    "Right this way gentlemen," he showed them toward a shelf that was very visible due to the sunlight seemingly focused on it. Norris wore a dark green vest and a white shirt as well as black blazers, which was unbuttoned but he swiftly put on the buttons as soon as he got up.

    He walked towards the glass shelf, blocking the excess sunlight and turning on the light inside, the light was kept off since sunlight was enough to see the contents but not study them. And saving on the ether bills that powered the lights was something he could profit from.

    Judge looked at the display of different types of handguns inside, there were normal revolvers, and those were the popular choice. There were flintlock pistols and pistols which varied in types like pepper-box pistols and dual pistols.

    He scanned through each one of them, but decided to go for an all or just these gamble, there was nothing to lose after all. "I need some special ones. Revolver I mean, you know what I meant."

    This shocked Norris, special revolvers were specially made guns that were used to target enemies that had a huge defense and were hard to crack. People who requested them were both rich and knew the secret workings here. "Just wait a minute sir." He bowed and headed towards an ''employee-only'' door.

    As they saw Norris out of the hearing reach, the man next to Judge turned to him. "How do you know about the special guns?" This was a genuine question, not something he had answers for.

    "There are specially made guns from where I came from," Judge was telling the truth, he was dying to leave that place he mentioned, (and he did *spoiler for chapter 1). "And I just tried if they would work here, after all, what do I have to lose if there was not."

    The man looked at him seriously, then he chuckled lightly. "You are a funny one."

    Judge did not know whether it was a joke or an insult, but he decided not to probe into it, instead, he decided for a small talk, "What is your name by the way?"

 Chapter 122 Buying firearms legally. Plot twist-there is no license

    Judge and the tall man met their eyes, he felt a slight chill from that single silvery-red eye. The man hesitated for a moment before replying, "I am called Saphiel."

    "Saphiel," Judge repeated, muttering to himself as if tasting the name. "That''s a nice name, but it reminds me of someone."

    "Who?" Saphiel''s tone was somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.

    "Oh, don''t worry about it, Personal matters, treat it as if I have never said anything." He smiled at the tall man, seemingly forgetting that he was wearing a mask that was always smiling¡ª but creepily though. "Just... think of it as a momentary lapse in manners."

    Before they could dive further into that mystery, Norris entered, balancing a stack of heavy boxes and looking like a precarious tower of armory. "Sorry for the wait, lads. Here are the revolvers, and a few pistols too. Quite the selection if I do say so myself!"

    Norris began his grand tour, opening the boxes with the pride of a magician revealing his best trick. "These two beauties, are new arrivals, capable of doing both ether and gunpowder, it is strong as well as conductive."

    He touched the pistol, it had a black grip and an iron body, along with golden-colored inlays and patterns. "This is the golden eagle, a revolutionary model capable of using either ether or gunpowder for some good ol'' monster skull-shattering firepower."

    "And this one," He touched the revolver with a brown leather handle and an iron body with different golden inlays and patterns. "This is the Vanguard 22, the latest and improved model of the Vanguard series. Capable of shooting long distances without losing the force. A real beauty, I tell ya."

    Judge did not think much, he picked up the Golden Eagle, hefting it like a seasoned pro. "Not bad. Holds, what, 20 rounds? Reminds me of an old friend, the Glock 17¡ªthough this beats it by a mile. Except in concealment. That friend was much better at keeping things¡­ low profile."

    "Er... a Glock?" Norris asked, looking like he''d been asked to explain the mysteries of the universe. "Never heard of it."

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, enjoying Norris''s bewilderment. "Forget it. Ancient history. But, listen," he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. "Any ''enhanced'' pistols around?"

    Norris looked at Judge like he''d just asked for a weapon from another dimension. "Enhanced pistols?" he repeated, as if he was testing whether the words made any sense together. He looked at Judge with doubtful eyes, he had never heard the term ''enhanced pistols'' despite having an experience of more than a decade.

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, this worker would surely not know anything about an enhanced pistol. He knew that very well, enhanced pistols are something made with the help of runes, and it was not even popular among dragons. But he had heard that it was available in Wistmere since many dragons there use guns instead of swords like most dragons in the land of dragons.

    The reason he said that was just to get the attention of the man near him¡ª or the woman dressed as a man. As she knew things about dragons, she was sure to have heard about enhanced pistols and runes.

    "Oh sorry!" He gave a self-deprecating laugh, putting Norris at ease, "I will just take this as a dual-wield, how much?"

    "Erm¡­ alright then," Norris heaved a sigh of relief, the tension that had been building in the silence vanished, "It would be 55 sten a piece sir."

    55 sten! Judge was surprised by the amount, Well, that''s only... the price of a small cottage. No problem.

    But it was normal since this was a customized high-performance pistol with a whopping 20-round magazine. He knew very well that an engraved or enhanced gun would cost him more than a hundred sten, it would cost more if it was an antique collector''s item, which would be more than 200 sten.

    Without haggling on the price, he moved his gaze towards the case that was filled with non-steam model rifles. "I will take two golden eagles. now for the rifles, I need something that can travel really long distances, something that could take down a wild boar at, oh, a mile or two away?, can I custom order?"

    "Sire there are rifles that can be used from a long distance, but a mile is a pretty long distance to travel in a straight line." Norris explained, "But if you are looking for something in particular, then it is possible to custom order, but it will take at least a week to finish."

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    Judge nodded, listening attentively. "Ok, I will take that, so for now," He took a polished, wood-finished rifle, admiring its craftsmanship. "I will take this beauty, I need ammunition for both of them... No, three of them. Heh."

    "Right away sir. That rifle is called the ''Wooden Crow'', a fine work if I say so myself. It would be 80 sten, totaling 190 sten without counting the ammunition." Norris clasped his hands, ready for some bargaining, that was expected of mercenaries.

    Judge nodded, and without much action, he pulled out his purse and counted twenty notes of ten stens. "Gimme pistol rounds for seven sten and rifle bullets for three, ether infused, of course."

    "Right away sir," Norris was surprised, it was a rare sight to see mercenaries who did not try to bargain about the price. He took two iron cases that could hold thirty pistol rounds and filled one with twenty bullets and the other with fifteen. He then took another bigger iron case and filled it with twelve rifle bullets.

    The cases were all put on the cashier''s table and Norris took the two pistols that Judge bought as well as the rifle and inserted them with full magazines. "This one is on the house!" He announced.

    "I must thank you then," Judge said in a cold but unhostile tone. A tone so flat it was impossible to tell if he was grateful or just amused.

    ¡ª

    Judge and Saphiel were both headed deep into the forest, they left the city a long time ago. The silence was serene and peaceful, none of them uttered a word.

    "How do you know about enhanced pistols?" Saphiel finally asked.

    "Guess," Judge answered indifferently. He could feel the angry pressure being built up, but he did not care.

    "You better tell me if you do not like a beating." Saphiel did not hide his(her) anger.

    "Alright, I will tell you after this hunt is over, is that acceptable?" Judge clearly remembered when they had first met, they ended up clashing and the aftermath was something he did not want to go through again.

    "Just answer me this, Are you a wyvern?" S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Answer my question first," he turned to him a bit seriously, "and I will tell you about my race and how I got to know about enhanced pistols and about how I know how to "make" it, you know, with the runes and stuff."

    The "runes" was enough to get his(her) attention, but before they could continue their exchange, there was a presence near them that kept itself hidden, a predator.

    Judge quickly drew his long pistol, it was long enough to be called a short shotgun... or a long pistol, or a short rifle¡ª anyways it was a long-barrelled pistol. He had two of them, the golden eagles.

    He was itching to see them in action. Saphiel just stood still without any movement. As per Judge''s agreement with the mercenary guild¡ª as this was a test, he would not help him unless the situation was serious, which would make Judge lose the test.

    Judge drew a single pistol with a flick, "This one''s mine." He said just in case Saphiel joined the hunt saying that they only had a deal of not intervening in the fight against the Shroud Grasper.

    Saphiel on the other hand, nodded at him tersely. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was humoring Judge. But his eyes were full of curiosity as to how this young man would fight.

    The predator clearly was not going to wait around until they finished their exchange, it leaped at Judge who was the closest.

    "A bit impatient aren''t ya." Judge quipped as he sidestepped slightly to avoid the animal, the sidestep was insultingly light. The fox... no wolf... hyena... the nimble predator lunged at Judge again. Who sidestepped again, but he raised his gun and shot its flank, obliterating its stomach altogether.

    Judge looked at it with a srcastic face, "Wow that was a bit too powerful, why is there no license for these portable cannons?"

    Saphiel seemed unbothered, but he was caught up on one word, "License?"

    "you know, like those permits you need to drive a cloud weaver and do some other stuff," He said as he inched closer to the corpse, "This one''s really dangerous."

    "That''s because most do not buy specially crafted weapons," Saphiel also walked closer, "and among the rare people who did, only a small percentage could handle the recoil, and you are one."

 Chapter 123 Lets see, how do I shoot this thing?

    "I am really special aren''t I?" Judge kicked the predator corpse that was too damaged to be of any value. "My build is not fit to bear the huge recoil, yet I can. Do you want to know why?"

    Saphiel looked at him curiously, but did not say anything. Judge could feel his curiosity, but he was reserved.

    "Well, if you don''t want to I am not telling." Judge waved his hand as they resumed their journey to find a Shroud Grasper. "And if you want to know why, just ask me." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Why then?" Saphiel''s strides were light, they failed to make noise even when stepping on all the dried leaves on the forest ground.

    "Glad you asked," Judge turned back to look at Saphiel, "I once had a dream, a very lucid one. I know what I was doing but I did not know I was dreaming..." Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire

    Without mentioning his master''s name, he started to recount his training with Seraphis, but he exaggerated it a bit and said that it ''only'' lasted a week, though a day was all it took. But he sliced up the story and mixed it in a blender before telling. He did not say anything about his occasional visits to the ozone layer, (just to do a checkup yeah) but he had instead told him that he did very well in training. He told her the training was in a starting phase and was not hard at all¡ª ''Just to be safe''.

    After recounting the whole story, he ended with his master saying that they were just in a dream and both would forget about the week they shared. But as a loving student, (yes loving) he had refused to forget about his master and her teaching.

    "... the result? I remembered bits of my training, but not everything."

    Saphiel, who was following behind him closely nodded before clapping. "I''d give the story an 8 out of 10, there are some areas that were lacking."

    "...Wha?" Judge stumbled forward, deflated but quickly recovered. He sighed and focused on his way forward, they were now inside the foggy area of the forest. "Well, I should thank you for the constructive critisism." He quipped.

    "What does it have to do with you being able to handle the recoil?"

    This question made Judge laugh, this was what he had expected in place of an average 8 out of 10 rating. "That''s where the twist is, I can bet that you would be surprised to hear my master''s name."

    "Kiddo, you are underestimating me," He smirked. "Even if she was well-known and was powerful, I can bet I won''t be surprised."

    "Then are you up for a bet? I would pay you just how much the commission costs. If you lose, you have to give me the commission money."

    "Alright, I bet." Saphiel did not mind the money even though it was a substantial amount of a hundred sten. He was more curious about the name, something told him that this new mercenary, Dorian Caine, would not tell him the name unless he did so.

    Judge let out an audible laughter, "Prepare to be surprised then, she is called... Seraphis!"

    Saphiel''s undecipherable face clearly showed fluctuations, indicating that he was surprised beyond measure. His eyes widened, even his mouth was agape. "...S-Seraphis?!"

    "Well, welcome 100 sten," Judge said happily.

    "How do you know m- her?"

    "She is standing right beside me isn''t she?"

    Saphiel... no¡ª Seraphis was dumbfounded, this kid was not bluffing. The original her was just known among the phoenixes and dragons as the ''Brute Phoenix''. So it was surprising to hear her name outside the Land of Phoenix. "Does that mean..." She thought for a second, "How you control the recoil... do you know bady strengthening principle?"

    Judge nodded, "Yes, but as I said, I do not know much. I am just doing with what I know." He did not know how to explain it correctly, If it was back on earth I could have just told her that it was just like writing exams, even though you do not know the whole theory¡ª you make do with what and how much you know.

    "Hmm..." She went deep in thought, but before she could speak further, they heard a deafening shriek that seemed to penetrate their skulls and attack deep into their brains.

    Judge covered both his ears with his hands in a desperate attempt to block the noise but to no avail. Seraphis just stood there and watched him try to block the noise, and after a brief moment of the deafening scream, every noise within the forest came to a standstill. It was as if they had entered a graveyard, there was no sound. Silence permeated the air like an uninvited guest.

    "It seems I have more things to teach you," Seraphis laughed, "it must be the arrangement of fate, giving me a pupil whom I do not remember teaching Just when I was starting to feel lonely."

    Judge wanted to shout how she was unaffected by the shriek, but decided it was wise not to say anything. "Looks like I got myself a master who has memory issues."

    Seraphis stared at him for two seconds, "Based on your behavior, I think I know why I took you in."

    No way! Does she remember our fight?! Oh god please no¡ª oh wait! I am a god. At least I would be. Judge remembered the embarrassing memory he had when he first fought his master, he had lost despite them fighting inside his own domain.

    "What was that shriek just now?" He decided to change the topic.

    "A cry full of pain and desperation, a cry for help. It seems to be from a prey, a powerful prey at that." She looked deep into the forest where the noise came from. "There is a lot of thick fog there, we seem to have found our target when it is out to hunt food."

    "Allow me then," Judge walked forward and lifted the earth below them via a simple ethercraft. He then took out the Wooden Crow and aimed at the thick fog.

    Normally, Seraphis would have scolded him for aiming at a prey inside a thick fog. The shot had nearly zero chance of success, and would end up alerting the enemy, but there were two reasons why she did not stop him. One, she was there only to watch and lent a hand only when necessary. Secondly, she knew that Dorian was not an idiot, he would not be aiming at a thick fog without any plan. Unless of course, she was wrong about him.

    Judge looked through the scope, the fog was extremely dense, making it nearly impossible to see through.

    Suddenly, Dorian Cain''s silver eyes with golden strands turned ashen white, there was fog churning inside both of them. His vision blurred for a bit and just after that, he could perfectly see through the fog, this was his ability to see through the clouds, a Cloudstrider''s specialty.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber looked at the spacious hall in front of her, this was the docking station inside their palace in Wistmere. It was a one-to-one replica of their original house.

    She was delighted yet gloomy, she came here expecting a brand new experience. But all she got was the same old house, but hey, at least she was back home... a replica at least. She can now make sure that she at least won''t be uncomfortable.

    Alex waved her goodbye as she was taken away by the maids. After a long walk through familiar hallways, she finally ended up in her room. Without waiting there to admire the beauty of the room, because well, she knew the place, she made her way toward the bathroom.

    There was already a bathrobe, towel, and a set of clothes prepared, and the water was heated. She took off her clothes and let herself sink into the bathtub, feeling the warmth all over her body, the exhaustion from her travels seemed to have been washed away.

    After a long period of time, she got out of the bathroom. She wore a black dress with yellow patterns. The maids were waiting for her to get out and were outside her room, only when she clapped and let them know that she had finished her bath did they come in.

    Next up on Amber''s schedule was Dinner, she walked through the illuminated hallways adorned with various decors and ended up in front of the grand double door that led to the dining hall.

    Following in her youngest brother''s footsteps, she sighed and looked at the door, waiting for it to open. And it soon did, two butlers who stood on the sides opened the grand doors.

    Soothing music filled her ears and bright light blinded her eyes as soon as the door was opened. There was a party with many guests present, everyone''s gaze was focused on her. What?! Why is there a party, there was no prior notice!

 Chapter 124 The Great Case of the Missing Bullet Box (Spoiler: Its in the Fog)

    Dragons and beasts were two races with many subspecies. The two known species in the legends about dragons were Phoenixes and Cloud Striders. Both of them stood out because both had separate families that ruled them instead of the drakonis.

    The Phoenix noble house was called Everleigh, while the Cloud Striders were the royal family of Eldris. Eleyn was a princess who was married to Alex from the Draconis family, making their children half Cloud Striders.

    There were records within the Drakonis library and Royal Castle''s library that showed that the Cloud Striders were once called L¨°ng, which also depicted strange symbols like Áú. But nobody knew the origins or what those symbols represented. And Judge, who had read that out of curiosity was confused as to whether it was Chinese or Japanese. His first guess was Japanese since he had heard Seraphis once called her move¡ª Chi no Kiri, but this looked more like simplified Chinese.

    When Judge first stumbled upon the symbol "Áú," he couldn''t resist joking about it. "So, what''s next? A dragon with chopsticks? I swear if I find one holding a teacup, I''m done." The image of a sophisticated dragon sipping tea while floating on a cloud kept him smirking for days.

    As a Cloud Strider''s son, Judge had inherited one ability from his mother¡ª that was his eyes. The ashen white eyes were not there just for decoration, under normal circumstances, a Cloud Strider''s ability to see through the fog was active, and their eyes would turn ashen white when they activated it. But Jugde and his mother were a little different¡ª their eyes would turn ashen white unknowingly, and Judge could never turn it off.

    His silver eyes with golden fibers were just a part of his disguise, and now that he had activated the ability to see through fog, the disguise was no more.

    Seraphis looked at him with anticipation, she had not noticed the color of his eyes as she stood behind him. She was curious as to what this young kid was going to do, could he somehow see through the fog?

    Judge pulled on his dark hoodie and knelt down on the raised earth. "Alright! There you are, little guy," he said, his voice carrying an eerie confidence. Slowly, he raised the weapon in his hand¡ª a long rifle with a gleaming black barrel and a base made of polished wood that had an engraving of a crow, the wooden crow.

    "Let''s dance shall we?" His calm voice was foreboding.

    Bang!

    The silence shattered as he pulled the trigger. The smell of fire remained as the bullet surged forward.

    It was not gunpowder, but an ether bullet that had extremely destructive capabilities. The bullet was not rotating, the barrel was not made for the bullet to rotate. As it turned out engineering still needed some upgrades. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But this shot was enough for what Judge had in mind, the bullet tore through the thick fog, creating a massive hole as a cannonball had passed through. It accurately hit the Shroud Grasper''s chest, it was feeding on another monster''s carcass.

    Just that shot was enough to rip through its illusory body. The body of the monster blasted apart like fog, but it quickly recovered and closed off the gaping hole in the fog that covered its body.

    Unless people were confident enough, many might end their hunt here, saying that it was too dangerous to proceed. But that little moment before the Shroud grasper recovered was enough for Judge to determine one thing¡ª the location of its core, and he had gotten the result he needed.

    "Let''s head out shall we?" He turned to Seraphis.

    "You missed the shot, it is going to be on its guard." She made an educated remark, which made Judge sigh.

    "This is why people call you the brute phoenix," Judge said, facepalming and getting off the small dune he raised.

    Seraphis'' mouth twitched, she normally took the name as a compliment but this felt strangely insulting. "Brute? Excuse me, young man, I''m a refined brute." She picked up a rock and crushed it in her hand for emphasis. "See? Classy."

    Judge did not mind her much, so she followed her disciple into the fog without much thought... except on how to punish him "Properly".

    Judge ran as fast as he could, he did not want to miss the opportunity and let the monster run away. Shroud Graspers were on the intelligent side and wouldn''t engage in battles with a foe of unknown strength, especially after the power its enemy showcased.

    Soon, they arrived at the center of the fog. Seraphis could not see a thing, but Judge had good visibility, even though it was a bit white. As soon as he saw the monster, he drew his gun without any hesitation.

    Bang! Bang!

    The two golden eagles produced two normal bullets as he pulled the trigger. Without trying to dodge, the Shroud Grasper allowed the bullet to pass through its head and chest. The head and chest were split apart, but it did not mind the damage. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

    Shroud Grasper quickly recovered and let out a loud shriek, this was not pleasant to the ears, but was better than the previous cry they heard that came from the now-dead prey it was feasting on.

    Judge dodged to the side as an enormous arm came slashing down towards his left chest. The slash slammed down and hit the ground, creating a crater. Then the giant hand on the ground was swept to the side, making Judge jump up and do a side roll.

    "Wow, you almost touched me!" He mocked the Shroud Grasper. As an intelligent creature, even though it could not understand what he was saying, it could feel the intention behind the words from his tone. It let out an enraged shriek, which was¡ª of course, not pleasant to hear.

    A few shadow tendrils emerged from Judge''s shadows, but he immediately turned invisible and appeared behind the monster. Just as the shroud Grasper turned to look at him, he raised his weapon and aimed at its neck where the core lay.

    Bang!

    A single bullet pierced through it, but there was no core, the body of Shroud Grasper immediately turned foggy and dissipated. The monster appeared behind him, it had gotten a grasp over its enemy''s strength, and now it was not hesitant to fight.

    Seraphis, who now stood opposite Judge, saw his eyes clearly through the two dark holes in the white mask. The fog had dispersed where they fought, allowing her to see further. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw the two ashen white eyes gleaming from behind the mask. She knew who had ashen white eyes, it was a symbol of the royal family.

    He is a dragon disguised as a mercenary?!

    Her first thought was Renald, the first prince. He was a known degenerate, but she had always thought that there was something off about him, maybe he built such a persona in order to escape the castle life.

    But she quickly dismissed it, whoever it was, time will tell. And she was in no hurry to know the identity of the new disciple she got, trying to figure out who he was would only break their fragile trust and relationship.

    Judge dodged another barrage of attacks, he was surprised to learn that this beast had the ability to move through the fog that it created. If it was not for the poor destructive capabilities of this monster, it would have earned a place as a cataclysm level monster.

    He emptied the magazine full of empty shells that contained normal bullets out of one gun. Amidst his nimble dodging, he put the gun back in the leg holster and took out the iron case full of ether bullets.

    With the empty magazine in one hand and the iron case with bullets in the other, he started to reload the magazine, all while trying to dodge the barrage of crazy black tentacles.

    Judge loaded two bullets and started to take another bullet from the case with his thumb and index finger¡ª he held the case with three other fingers. But a tentacle struck him and the iron case was knocked away. He did not have the luxury to search where the box landed, he cursed silently and loaded the third bullet in the magazine.

    "Please check the box that was knocked away," He called out to his master, whom he knew could not see well in the fog. This was said purely because he could feel better.

    He took out his gun and loaded the magazine, immediately rolled to the side, and jumped over another tentacle that came from the side. He raised his gun and shot the monster without hesitation, but it immediately dispersed.

    Something that the Shroud Grasper did not take into account was that its core would be exposed when it was dispersing and reappearing¡ª this was what Judge was aiming for, he immediately started recording and went invisible.

    Just as the Shroud Grasper started to appear, Judge materialized behind the reappearing monster¡ª aiming the tip of the barrel right near the core.

    He smiled, but was covered by the mask that never stopped smiling.

    "Checkmate!" He muttered calmly.

    Bang!

 Chapter 125 When you are hungry but Simon(Seraphis) says

    Bang!

    The ether behind the bullet exploded to create a force rivaling cannons. The Shroud grasper''s core had no chance of escape. It shattered into many tiny fragments.

    Just as the fog was dispersing, Judge immediately took out a pouch and put one fragment of the core inside. The other shattered pieces started moving and coming towards the mouth of the pouch as soon as he induced some ether inside it.

    I wonder how this artifact works. The artifact nerd''s thoughts acted up, while it was just something he did in order to study the divine artifacts to attain clues to godhood, he couldn''t escape a personality he had unknowingly created for himself.

    All the fragments went inside the pouch like some kind of specialized vacuum cleaner. He put it away inside the big leather pouch on his lower back. "let''s head back."

    He turned to Seraphis, who nodded in response. She did not say anything, hoping to get answers after this whole commission was over.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Four people sat around a round table inside a decent apartment room, the rain was blurring the closed window. The light from a lantern was blurring occasionally. One man stood by the wall, he was wearing a brown jacket and a triangular hat. "The gathering place was destroyed when none of us or anyone with enough strength was there."

    "Yes, surprising right?" One man by the table, who had put the backrest of the chair in front of him, nodded and said.

    "That means this was a planned-out operation." Another man with green hair said. "The Clown of Sinister Smile huh? If he was from the Drakonis family, then he must be pretty strong. There is no way they would send weak people."

    "But there is the question," The man opposite him spoke, "The Drakonis do not need such meticulous planning to wipe us out, they have enough manpower to kill us all. They might be trying to mask the death of their young miss, but until when are they going to hold it back and why?"

    "I think you are misunderstanding," The man with a brown jacket and triangular hat spoke again, making everyone else go silent. "I think the clown might be someone who is not affiliated with the Drakonis, of course, it is only a possibility. But if you knew someone killed your child, would you send a weak lackey or go by yourself?"

    "Yourself," Eyerone said unanimously.

    "And do you know the strength of those monsters, their base strength could match many strong people''s racial form."

    "Yes! And that means..."

    "That means the Drakonis family is yet to know who sent the assassin, after all, there are a lot of assassins gathering even inside Wistmere, and they might not turn to Limdon which is not a part of their territory."

    "I get it now!" The man with green hair exclaimed, "It means that someone else got the information, and they acted as a part of the Drakonis house in order to scare us to not find him or the others."

    The man with the triangular hat nodded and came closer to the table, "So we need to find who leaked the information, let us start with the people who commissioned the killing¡ª that is the most probable place where the information was leaked." He snapped his fingers and a glass made of ice came into existence, and he poured the bottle of amber colored malt beer into the ice glass.

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    "Does anyone have a clue on who it was?" the man sitting on the back turned chair asked. "The clown might not have enough confidence, but he is sure formidable. I mean, the corpses¡ª they are mangled beyond belief. And the last worker, he was also cut into pieces after the police questioned him."

    "Hmm... you are right, we should be careful." The green-haired man replied.

    "Alright then, it is decided." The man who was silent till now spoke, he was sitting near a small table at the far end of the room. He had black hair and gray eyes, his face was smooth as silk, and he had no beard or mustache. "Let''s search the commissioner."

    "Yes Sir!" Everyone said and except the man with a triangular hat, he downed his drink before he spoke, "As you say master Thadd, I have no choice but to follow your lead."

    Master Thadd laughed a while and then the entire room, including him, went silent. The six men looked at each other and decided to finish the bottle before they went out.

    Lucifer, who was watching all of this, silently praised his master. He was told to stay and record the scene at the assassin gathering and follow if he saw someone suspicious, and when he did, he had gotten here, listening in on a conversation that could reveal clues on who had enough nerve to even think of killing their god incarnation''s sister.

    He just stood there, without even being able to lean on the wall, but as an upside, his body never ached or felt tired.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Alright, the commission is completed and the item is received." The green-haired receptionist had changed, maybe her shift was over. Now there was a blonde girl with an aura of air-headedness around her. "Welcome to the mercenary guild Dorian Caine, as a new member and an emerging marksman." She was cheerful, as if she had yet to register the monster named Shroud Grasper was a pretty powerful one.

    "Here is your mercenary identification, we will be noting the list of monsters you killed inside a database, and would be shared across all branches of the mercenary guild, but it would take about a month. Your first monster on the list would be a Shroud Grasper... Hmm" She fell into thought, she had to write the monster''s tier, but she was pretty forgetful. "Just a sec." She went into the room behind to grab a monster encyclopedia.

    "Let''s go, Dorian, there are a lot of things I wanna talk about," Seraphis spoke as she came closer to Judge.

    "I..." Before Judge could say anything, she grabbed him by the collar, the people around them did not hear what the receptionist had said, so they could not hear the shroud grasper, but they knew about Saphiel.

    "Hey look at that, the kid got Saphiel as a master." Someone said to his table.

    "Man, he''s in for a rough time, he is really merciless even to his own teammates."

    "But isn''t that kid carrying a gun? Saphiel uses swords."

    "You never know, he might start to like swords more than guns. After all, he is with him."

    The crowd erupted into laughter.

    Suddenly, they heard a loud squeak from the room behind the counter, "A Shroud Grasper?! He killed a Shroud Grasper for his test commission?" It was the blonde girl, she was going through the books to find the description of shroud graspers.

    The whole crowd went silent, "What? That kid killed a Shroud Grasper for his test?" A man shouted.

    "Killing it is one thing, but that kid did not even have a scratch on him. Do you guys think Saphiel helped him?"

    "No, then he would have disqualified."

    "That means..."

    Everyone went silent again, and then one guy laughed in a way people actually introduce strong characters in a story, yeah that kind of laugh. "We are going to see some changes in hierarchy." He continued his subtle laugh.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge was trying his hardest to convey his grumbling tummy to his master, but Seraphis was in a world of her own. She ran on the roofs, jumping from one house to the next, her only focus was to reach her residence as soon as possible. There was actually no need to hurry they were free and could take their time, but Seraphis was fixed on reaching her place as soon as possible.

    "Umm... Master Seraphis..." Judge tried to talk, but was met with silence, only the rustling of wind was heard. This took him back to when he was a baby and his mother, but at that time, he did not feel the force of sudden acceleration or anything, it was like Newton had diarrhea when he was actually supposed to sit underneath an apple tree.

    Soon, they reached a two-story house in the outer regions of Rivell borough. He looked at her, owning a house in a city, even if it was in the Limdon outer regions, could cost almost 1000 sten.

    Without a word, they both headed in... well Judge was dragged in, but let''s leave it at that. Just past the entrance was the living room with some sofas, Seraphis threw judge onto one of them and sat on another sofa.

    "Now, tell me who you really are. I don''t believe your whole story about dreams, but I know you are a dragon."

    "Well, master I would like to tell you but..." Grrr, His stomach started to make noise, Judge looked at his master with an embarrassed face, "...I am hungry."

 Chapter 126 The two mentally, un-matured

    Judge stared at the steaming hot Worrak steak in front of him. This was different from how he usually ate¡ª there were no additional add-ons or any kind of sauces, just the meat that was seasoned well and grilled to perfection.

    He silently praised his master as he slowly chewed the well cooked meat, she was not just his master, but a role model in the kitchen too.

    "So, what is your real identity?" Seraphis asked after completely chewing and swallowing a small piece she cut from the steak on her plate. "Dorian Caine is a likable nickname, it has got a nice ring to it." She smiled lightly before stuffing another small piece in her mouth and chewing lightly.

    The silence was loud, Seraphis had gone to the kitchen and cooked the two steaks for a full two minutes. Unknown to Judge, she actually knew quite a bit of the ethercraft principle for fire manipulation. He did not know what exactly she did, but the steak was cooked inside out just after the two minutes had passed, regardless of the cooking methods, the taste was commendable. As expected, it is hard to make a bad dish when you have Worrak meat to work with.

    "You might be surprised to find out about my identity," Judge returned her smile, she had taken off her man disguise and the contacts, her crimson eyes exuded an aura of power, and her black hair was neatly combed to the sides.

    Seraphis swallowed the piece of meat and drank some water, "I would have liked to refute, but something tells me it is best if I don''t."

    "Well... I am a child from Drakonis house."

    Her pupils constricted, but she kept her calm, "Amber... no, definitely not her... Liam?" The reason she believed Judge was that she could tell whether he was lying or telling the truth after taking off her contacts. This was just one of the abilities of the crimson eyes of a phoenix.

    She might have known about Amber heading to Wistmere. So, for her, this whole guise was like boiling the ocean, unnecessary and impossible under all those watches. She might have guessed that Liam had somehow gotten hold of a transformation principle and ''somehow'' got out of the Land of Dragons, I heard it was hard to do, but I don''t know what to do or how hard it is to do.

    "I am neither," He cut another piece of steak and put it inside his mouth, chewing slowly and enjoying the surprised look of his master.

    "J-Judge...?" S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He did not say anything and just nodded. Seraphis could not believe her eyes (Literally), he did not lie when he said he was a Drakonis and was not the two siblings. But suddenly, she realized something, there were plenty of ways this statement could be exploited. She was just looking at the "children" from the "main family".

    There could be plenty of other people from the Drakonis family, like the older people and others from branch families that she did not pay much attention to. "Tell me you are Judge Drakonis from the main house of Drakonis."

    Judge drank some water, "I am Judge Drakonis from the main house of Drakonis." He nonchalantly said and continued his munching on the small piece of steak that was almost over.

    Seraphis stood up and went to the kitchen with the empty plate and glass in her hands. She was lost in what was currently going on. She taught a child who was four years old about swordsmanship and her principle about body strengthening, and the most unbelievable thing about it was the fact that her disciple had chosen an unconventional but innovative. She felt insulted and proud at the same time.

    When she turned to the shelves after washing her plate and glass, she saw her disciple coming in with his empty plate and glass. He looked at her once and understood he had to do his own dishes, which he did without complaint.

    "So, what do you know about me?" Seraphis asked as she put the plate on a drying rack, "You only told me about training inside my house, but did I tell you something about myself?"

    "Yes, you told me quite a bit about you actually." Judge was about to lie, but he knew about the crimson eyes¡ª they do not detect lies, but the speaker''s intentions when saying that. Basically speaking, someone could lie to them with good intentions toward the listener.

    "You told me about your family," He was lying to an extent, he wanted to test the waters on how much he could lie. "About your husband Corwin and your daughter Selena." He practically lied, but without any ill intentions, so this was bound to get a pass.

    "You are lying," Seraphis said without a shed of doubt, "As a Drakonis, it is normal for you to hear about the ability of a phoenix''s crimson eye to detect any ill intentions. But let me assure you that I can outright see the truth, even if you spoke without any ill intentions."

    "Ok I lied," Judge was quick to get back on track with a shocking discovery, "There was your husband and child inside the house."

    "How old was my child?"

    "That I do not know"

    "As an estimate"

    "I would say about three days," Judge wanted to shut up, but he knew better. It made him think about why he acted as if he knew her, things would have been better if he did not. He could not shake off the feeling of something forcing him to do things he did not want to do himself, and that was one of the most scary feelings a person could have¡ª being controlled and doing things you did not wish to.

    Seraphis thought for a minute, seemingly lost in what he had just told her. She then lifted her head as if she just got hold of an impressive idea, "How old were you when you were inside the dream?"

    Judge wanted to stay silent to this question, but as things had developed till this point, he had to do something to ensure his secrets were safe. "I was less than a month old."

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    This statement came out as a surprise to his master, Judge could not afford to wait and let her thoughts wander, "I am an incarnation of an unknown god who lost his power, and I was born to once again ascend into a god."

    The lie detector could not find any lies in his statement, this was because what he currently said was based on some real events. Firstly, him being a "god" incarnate was taken as him being a god in the business world from his previous world. Secondly, the unknown part was because he was not known in this world, losing power was him after dying.

    Next sentence was easy, he was born again and now he seeks to attain godhood. Though he did not say his motivation for godhood was mostly because of Clio, he knew his master would assume that it was because he was a god that fell from power and wanted that power back.

    Seraphis nodded as she just uncovered the secrets of the universe, she was still baffled after what he had just told her. She could not shake off her feeling of self-importance as she had unknowingly trained a literal god. "Now that you have told me your secrets, I want to have a more ''normal'' conversation with you. Though I do not know what you call normal. You can ask me questions now, but do put that plate and glass you are holding into the drying rack."

    "Oh right..." Judge had forgotten that he had finished washing the dishes, thankfully, he had turned the water off. "Ok let me ask you this then," He said after putting the dishes on the drying rack. "Why are you here, disguised as a man, when you have a four year old daughter and a husband at home? Or is it just that you like being a mercenary and you pushed all the responsibilities onto your husband and just left?"

    "Sometimes I wish I could just pluck your tongue out, but... Yuck!" she did a fake vomit, "You have such a nasty one."

    "Well sorry if I was curious, I know there were other ways I could have asked but I like pissing you off more."

    Seraphis just shook her head, accepting the fact that her disciple was beyond saving when it came to anything that was mental. "My home..." She began as if she was trying too hard to start an epic tale at a soap opera. "... is no more!"

    Wow! What a tragic tale. Judge wiped his tears (mentally, of course¡ª he did not want to die).

    "So you mean... both your husband and child are missing?"

    "No!''

    This! He snorted (mentally, of course), sometimes I wish to just pluck her tongue out, but... yuck! He faked a vomit (... mentally). "Then where are they?"

    "Missing."

    Maybe I should try suicide instead of world domination! He thought while smiling inward.

 Chapter 127 Its that purple glow again

    Judge, though annoyed by his master, sighed and took a deep breath. " Okay, so let me get this straight. Are they missing, or are they not?"

    "..." Seraphis began to speak, but before she could, Judge interrupted.

    "Or is your child missing and your husband and you split up to search for her?" Judge made the ending purposefully longer to let her know that this was a question and not a statement. Your next journey awaits at My Virtual Library Empire

    Seraphis thought for a second and nodded, What does she have to think about? Judge thought as the silence prevailed.

    "My child, Selena, went missing after a series of events. Those felt like a bad dream I don''t even remember what exactly happened." She sat down on the wooden stool near the table in the middle of the kitchen. "And me and Corwin decided to set off on our own paths to find her."

    Judge thought about what she just said, he could not guess what had happened with just what his master had told him, and he needed more info. "Tell me what you remember, maybe I can piece something together with all the information I have."

    "Hmm..." Seraphis went silent, Again... what is there for her to think so much? She then tapped her fingers on the table. "I think I saw a, no... two purple flashes just before she was taken away, she just disappeared right in front of us... in her crib."

    Purple flash! Judge sat up, alarmed at hearing something he was familiar with himself. Seraphis noted this shift in his stance and looked at him seriously, waiting for him to spill the beans. Normally, any mother would have been in distress after her child vanished. Judge could not help but commend her mental fortitude.

    "The two purple flashes that you saw, did they look like two eyes?"

    Seraphis nodded, "They were cold and sinister, giving me a warning not to move a muscle. I never felt so powerless."

    "Eyes huh?" Judge thought silently for a second.

    What is there for him to think? Seraphis thought.

    "I know three people who could produce such eyes. One is an assassin," He sat down, not knowing why he was standing there like that in the first place.

    "One is an assassin, a person who tried to kill my sister Amber. I could watch him with an ability of mine, it let me see things that my servants saw and wished to show me." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Your servants? Oh, I forgot... you are a god incarnate."

    Judge shot her a look of ''don''t ask questions in the middle of a story'', she was starting to remind him of a particular deity. "Anyway, the name of the assassin is Noel, he is a wealthy merchant from Losserado. The second person is more mysterious, she wears a long white jacket like an ethercraft researcher, at least when I saw her. Her face was covered in bandages, and she also had that purple eyes that could send chills down one''s spine.

    "I have no way to confirm her name, but I think it was... Mina" He added a pause for effect, "I could not tail her because I saw her too late and my servants could not go after her since she just vanished. But if she was Mina, I might know a way to find her residence."

    Seraphis listened in attentively, but seeing that Judge did not continue on the topic, she asked confusingly, "Who is the third person, do you not know the person''s name or place?"

    Judge looked his master dead in the eye, he looked like a marksman who was trying too seriously in a friendly match with his dog. "... It''s me"

    This! Seraphis was left flabbergasted, her own disciple had the mysterious eyes that left her powerless and took her child. She knew that he was not lying, "Do you know how or why you have those eyes?"

    To Seraphis, he was not a culprit but a clue¡ª a clue that would lead her to her beloved child. So she had to make full use of his knowledge to get close to her target.

    "Before we continue," Judge crossed his fingers, put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on the crossed fingers. "I would like to make clear a few things."

    "I am all ears."

    "One thing, please do not tell my mother about this. It would be troublesome for both of us."

    Seraphis thought for a moment before answering, "Alright, even though Eleyn is my best friend, I can''t just tell her that her child is a god incarnate."

    "Thank you," He thanked her sincerely (Yes he has some sincerity), "Next thing is that I would help you look for your daughter, but only if you help me look for the people who tried to kill my sister."

    Seraphis smiled, she could sense his lie, he does not even know that he was lying, he would have helped me regardless. She nodded, "Reasonable, yes. Do you love your sister that much?"

    "No, it is not my love for her," Judge refuted, "But it just pisses me off that someone could mess with my family and not be punished."

    The smile on Seraphis''s face widened, much to Judge''s discomfort, He''s lying again! Deep down, he loves her but he does not know? Man, I almost envy his sister for having such a reliable brother.

    "Okay then," She stopped smiling widely, but a small smirk remained on her lips. "Any other demands?"

    "None at the time."

    "Very well, let''s work that little bone of yours alright?"

    "What?!"

    Seraphis suddenly turned serious, "Let''s go somewhere secluded and have a duel first, I want to know your level."

    Judge stood up, alarmed. He hated visiting the sky every hit, but he hated going out of the house even more. Suddenly, an incandescent bulb shined in his mind, he could use his ''Divine Domain'' called Studio.

    "If you are looking for a secluded spot..." He raised his arms, "would this count?"

    Both of them suddenly got transported to an ethereal plane. There was darkness everywhere, but both of them could see each other clearly. Judge had no idea how this worked, but as the first rule of programming states "If it works, DO NOT touch it."

    "Yeah, it works," Seraphis took her sword by the scabbard.

    Ashen! He remembered its name from their very first encounter. "Aren''t you gonna ask what this place is?" He did not find it odd she didn''t ask him about it, after all, she was a battle maniac.

    "I don''t care, it''s probably some god domain or something."

    "Wow, you guessed it right from the first try, I almost took you for a cryptic woman I knew who did not know when to stop talking."

    After a slight deliberation, he continued, "You can unsheath Ashen if you want. Nobody can die here." He said it with a protesting heart, half of him did not want to say that because it would mean torture even if he could make himself not feel pain. But he still said it because he genuinely wanted to grow better.

    "Alright, I thought you might not say something like that because it would be torture. Looks as if you genuinely want to grow better." Without standing on ceremony, she unsheathed the blood-red blade, "Chi no Kiri" Immediately, thick red mist was shrouded around her.

    How does she manage to get it so correctly? Judge summoned his sword that he had put inside the studio because he did not want to go outside with a sword on his waist.

    "Meet lament, though I just named it," he said with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the tension.

    Seraphis cocked an eyebrow, tightening her grip on Ashen. "Do you name everything, or is it just your weapons?"

    "Only the ones I care about," Judge shot back.

    Seraphis chuckled. "Oh, so I should feel honored you remembered Ashen''s name."

    "Trust me, Master, your sword is unforgettable. You, however¡ª"

    Before Judge could finish his quip, Seraphis dashed forward. He immediately activated his enhanced cognition, parrying the blow to the side. He expected it to be heavy, but it was extremely light, as if she never put any strength to it.

    Judge frowned as he realized what was happening, this blow was just a farce, the real blow was from her left leg. He immediately raised and held his ankles in a last-second attempt to block the incoming blow, but it was not very effective since he felt the nostalgic sensation of flying again.

    "Interrupting me mid-sentence?" Judge quipped, steadying himself. "You really are a cryptic woman."

    "You''re too slow, Judge," Seraphis taunted. "If I''d wanted to, that strike would''ve shaved your hat clean off."

    "I don''t wear a hat, it''s a hood okay?"

    "That''s not the point I was getting at, but anyway let''s get to learning. Firstly..." She dashed forward at an incredible speed, Judge was too slow to block, but she stopped right neck. His fingers that held the hilt were bleeding, he tried to raise his sword to block the blow, but he could only lift until the hilt reached his neck.

    "Judge, take this as a preliminary judgment. Can you think extremely fast?"

 Chapter 128 The divine... purple eyes?!

    "Can you think extremely fast?" The words of his master repeated themselves in his mind, he did not know if he had to reveal a powerful hidden card like enhanced cognition. But then again, she had already noticed it, it would only be a few more blows before she confirmed her suspicions.

    "Yep, I can, let''s continue." There was a hidden message in what he just said¡ª don''t pry into it... respectfully. The last part was a necessary procedure he had to undertake if he wanted to live peacefully¡ª if he did not mind the occasional feelings of being a bird.

    "Use your purple eyes, I want to try fighting against them. Both of us can learn from each other then."

    "Hey I am your student, it is my right to be taught."

    "Then listen to your teacher and use the purple eyes."

    "..." Judge''s mind paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I can''t control it properly." He gave up on thinking of ways to hide it.

    "It is okay, I doubt you would be able to beat me anyway."

    Judge pursed his lips, it was unfair¡ª being attacked both physically and mentally, but he had to endure. One thing Judge learned was that runes do not work inside the Studio unless he wants them to work. So he closed his eyes and focused on making them purple, which of course, did not work.

    "I don''t know how," He sighed.

    "Try sending ether towards your eyes while not activating the cloud strider eyes."

    "I tried, but it does not work."

    "Hmm..." Seraphis twirled her blade, "do you know how you got those eyes"

    "I usually have at least a bit of information on things that are relevant to me," He shook his head, "but sadly, I am just as confused as you are."

    Seraphis was about to say something when Judge interrupted, "Wait!... I do know of something."

    "What is it?"

    "The eyes, the cold and sinister feeling you get when looking at them, I have had the same indescribable horror, but on a greater amplitude when looking at someone else." Judge nodded thoughtfully, mostly to himself. "It was inside the dream, you fought that person, but you did not show any feeling of fear or being suppressed."

    Seraphis nodded at his explanation, she had forgotten they were in the middle of a spar. "Who was it? We might be able to get clues on how to activate it." Experience tales with My Virtual Library Empire

    "Tenebris..." Judge purposefully made his voice sound deeper.

    "...who?"

    "Tenebris..." he returned to being normal.

    "No, I heard you the first time, who is this guy?"

    "He is the god of night."

    Seraphis froze, did he just say that I fought a god? I know I am powerful but isn''t that a bit unrealistic? "So you are telling me... that I fought a literal god?"

    "No"

    "Thought so," She said in a disappointed tone.

    "You fought his vessel for his descent, but let me try the eyes again, I might have a clue on how to activate it." He looked at his master, who nodded without saying anything.

    The eyes, while do not have enough clues, they might be something connected to divinity. A god was able to have the same influence as the eyes, a person from more than two thousand years ago, during the Aetas Custodis era. And also, I have blessings from an entity that stands above these ''so-called gods'', so it is safe to assume that these eyes are somehow connected to divinity.

    Judge looked at his master, instead of circulating ether throughout his body, he focused the ether inside his eyes. Nothing happened, but he could feel something was amiss. If it was all normal he could easily draw out ether from his eyes, since ether is stored within the whole body of a person and not just inside some random organ that had an unscientific name.

    He focused some of his ether into his eyes, but just as both his iris turned ashen white, he stopped the flow and started to draw ether from them.

    This time¡ª he succeeded, strange ether started to circulate throughout his body, filling him with vitality. He could feel his spirit, Solarae, who was asleep inside him churn in his sleep. But he could not come out because Judge did not let him.

    Seraphis watched as her disciple''s eyes slowly turned purple. She instantly froze, no matter how much she told herself that it was not dangerous, she could not make her body move. She even had the urge to prostrate in front of this diety. But all those feelings vanished as soon as Judge readied his sword, "I got a bit of control over it," He said as if he was driving a difficult car in a videogame.

    Seraphis also readied her sword and lunged forward thrusting the weapon toward Judge''s right shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on the two purple glows in her disciple''s eyes.

    Judge did not let his master get the better of him, he took the blow with his sword and tilted the blade slightly, redirecting the string blow to the side. He then reposted her thrust as he spun around in the direction he deflected her blade and swung the blade toward his master''s neck from the right.

    Seraphis avoided the blow by leaning back, Judge thought of punching her gut, but before he could do so¡ª her legs raised and kicked his chin, doing an over-dynamic backflip and landing gracefully, and also knocking the poor dragon child over in the process.

    Judge stood up from his ground-hugging and adjusted his jaw. Thankfully, he was a dragon and both were inside his studio.

    Seraphis grinned and sprang again, faking a high attack before sweeping low. Judge dodged just in time by backstepping into the air, landing almost theatrically. He pointed Lament at her, with glowing golden runes on his blade.

    "My turn."

    He charged, careening in a loose zig-zag arc. Seraphis raised Ashen to block, but Judge paused and vanished, popping up behind her in a splash of crimson. His sword shot toward her side, but she whirled, parrying just in time, the impact of their blades echoing across the ethereal plane.

    Seraphis jeered. "Nice trick," she said, breathing slightly harder. "But predictable."

    "Predictable? I call it classic." Judge smirked.

    They traded punches frantically, with each punch punctuated by a string of ridicule.

    "Is that all you''ve got?" Seraphis called out, sidestepping an overhead slash.

    "You''re surprisingly chatty for someone who''s losing," Judge retorted, dodging a red mist tendril that shot out from Ashen.

    Duels became more intense. Seraphis''s blows were precise and continuous; Judge operated on quick-footedness and uneasy feints. Every time it seemed as if Seraphis was going to come out on top, Judge would teleport or use the surroundings as leverage.

    Once, Seraphis swung Ashen in an arc that broadened and swept crimson mist over Judge. He thought fast and pushed Lament into the ground, enveloped by the golden light exploding all around him and driving back the mist.

    "Impressive, Seraphis said apparently enthralled. Did you program that into your studio?"

    "Not exactly," Judge replied, continuing to draw his blade again. "More like a ''spur of the moment'' kind of thing. Improvisational theater, but with swords and without the applause."

    Seraphis laughed. "you are either insane or a genius. I couldn''t possibly tell."

    "Why not both?"

    Once again their blades clashed, the force of the blow shaking the shadows. Judge suddenly sidestepped, letting Seraphis''s momentum carry her forward. He raised his hand and the ground beneath her turned to slick, polished ice. She slipped but managed to catch herself with Ashen, stabbing it into the ground for support.

    "You''ve been holding back on me," Seraphis said, her smirk returning as she stood.

    "Just testing the waters, Master. I do not want to embarrass you too early."

    Seraphis''s grin grew wider, a dangerous glint filling her eye. "Good. Because now I won''t feel bad about using this."

    She held up Ashen and the scarlet veils deepened into what seemed to be vast, moss-covered claws to extend for arms behind her shoulders.

    Judge blinked. "Ah. You have an Ashen-formed claw monstrosity technique. Very original. Did you come up with that name on the fly, or..."

    "Shut up and fight, Judge!"

    The claws thrust at him, and Judge barely dodged them. He called forth several shimmering, golden constructs in the shape of shields, blocking the relentless assault. One claw rammed into a shield, shattering it like glass. "Okay, I think maybe I underestimated you... a little bit though," said Judge, dancing between the strikes.

    "You think?" Seraphis said, laughing low and little with amusement and menace. "I might as well remind you that I have not even gone into half the potential of my principle."

    "Please, what could possibly happen when you use the full principle." Judge was purposefully acting like a spoiled brat in order to see his master''s full strength, the strength he would one day achieve and surpass. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You should try taking a job in the opera, you are good at acting. Very well, I will show you the full strength of my principle."

    How could she read my mind, is that a skill of hers?

 Chapter 129 Lesson one in survival: Know your place

    "Very well, I will show you the full strength of my principle then." Seraphis sheathed her sword and leaned forward slightly. Discover hidden stories at My Virtual Library Empire

    Suddenly, her crimson eyes turned bright and started to exude a scarlet aura. The ground cracked involuntarily. (Of course, this was just an effect created by Judge.) She readied her sheathed sword, turning the hilt forward and gripping it tightly.

    Judge did not stand there and admire the scenery, he conjured up a thick wall and teleported far behind. He wanted to watch what happened when his master went overboard, but he did not want to get hurt in the process.

    Just as he was thinking about whether to create a clone of himself and play poker with it in order to wait for his master, the thick¡ª dark wall shattered into powder, as if it exploded from with and not of an outside force. Judge gulped, now THAT was terrifying.

    The crimson eyes devil came from behind the crumbled wall, "What? Don''t tell me you got scared of that. You said nobody can die here so that I can go all out right?" Seraphis'' voice felt ethereal, as if there were many Seraphises speaking at once. Judge knew this phenomenon, it was a sign of pushing one''s psyche to the limit¡ª this state would have a mindblowing end¡ª literally, people''s brains splatter when they push their psyche to its limit.

    "Wow, you are really a brute," He quipped, half jokingly¡ª half wanting to know whether she had gone mad. "That wall did not stand a chance."

    "Kid you really should rein in your tongue, I am virtuous enough to not mind it, but there are some scary people." She still spoke in an ethereal voice, but the temperament was the same. Judge was sure his master had not lost control. Haa, virtuous she says! Maybe she has indeed gone mad. He lampooned but he felt like she was giving advice to a four year old, which he was but it still felt insulting.

    "Alright, let us continue." Judge smiled as he drew more of the strange ether from his purple eyes. He put away the sword in his arms, he was best at guns, not swords, and this was not just training anymore.

    "Here I come then." Seraphis leaned forward, the red sword was now dripping tiny droplets of blood. She solemnly sheathed it again.

    Before their fight continued, the air around them got distorted¡ª slowly, a sky and sun came into existence, and the ground turned into soil. They now stood on a rocky plane with trees and such, it looked like a forest clearing.

    The judge''s smirk grew wider while he watched the ominous aura around Seraphis intensify. He casually flipped his twin pistols, Golden Eagle, spinning them on his fingers. "Alright, Master. Let''s see if I can keep up with your... virtue."

    Seraphis was gone before he could blink. The ground under her feet erupted, sending chunks of earth flying like cannonballs. Judge barely had time to teleport before her sword, still sheathed, slammed into the spot where he had been standing. The air rippled, and the shockwave sent him tumbling mid-teleport.

    "Whoa! You''re not even trying to hit me, are you?!" Judge yelled as he reappeared, stumbling a few feet away.

    "Of course I am," Seraphis said, Her voice sounded flat and uneven, but underneath it, there was a strong, powerful rhythm. "Just. the aftershocks are enough to keep you on your toes, aren''t they?"

    Judge growled something about "savages with swords" and pointed the two Golden Eagles at her. He unleashed twin streams of ether-impregnated projectiles. The bullets swirled in mid-air, curving unpredictably to flank her on both sides.

    Seraphis did not move. She slumped sideways, her eyes flaming like twin furnaces. The bullets paused in mid-air, quivering in suspension.

    "Cute trick," she said, and with a flick of her sheath, the bullets reversed course, speeding straight back at him.

    "Oh come on!" Judge cried as he erected a barrier of glistening ether to serve as a rampart against the hail. They hit the wall of that and exploded, and he slid back through it several feet.

    "You''re going to try a lot harder than this, kiddo," Seraphis said, her voice was heavy like a sledgehammer. She moved forward, one movement at a time, each with a deliberate crushing weight.

    Judge smirked at the added pressure. "Alright, let''s turn it up then!"

    The twin pistols in his hands vanished and he clapped his hands, the earth under their feet was now a gigantic chessboard. Immense chess pieces¡ª knights, rooks, and pawns emerged from the earth, each glowing with a faint etheric light. The pieces moved as if alive themselves, converging on Seraphis.

    She sighed. "A game? Seriously?

    The first wave of pawns charged her, their stone bodies swinging heavy arms like battering rams. Seraphis dodged the first one easily, her sheathed sword slicing out to just annihilate it in one fluid motion. A rook rolled toward her, spinning like a top, throwing razor-sharp ether shards about. She leaped with finesse, vaulting over it and landing on cat-like feet. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Hope you weren''t in the mood for this to slow us down," she said, flicking a stone chunk off her shoulder.

    Judge laughed. "Oh no, not at all. That''s just just warming up."

    And with a snap of his fingers, the knights charged, their heads igniting with ghostly blue flames. They moved with unnatural speed, coming at her from all sides. Seraphis spun in place, her sheath cutting arcs of scarlet energy as it sliced through the knights like paper.

    "Not bad," she admitted, stepping over the shattered remains. "But you''re not really trying to hurt me, are you?"

    Judge shrugged. "Nah, I''m just testing the waters. Besides¡­" He raised a hand, and the shattered chess pieces began to reform, melding into a single, towering knight with a glowing crimson lance. "¡­the best moves come later."

    The behemoth knight charged, its lance tearing through the air with a deafening crash. Seraphis smiled, her crimson eyes narrowing. She came to meet him with her sheathed blade, and the force of their collision shot out in shockwaves, shattering nearby trees and flattening grass underfoot.

    "Not bad, not bad!" yelled the judge above the din, his voice crackly with hoarseness. "But can you handle. THIS?!""

    Again he clapped his hands, and the chessboard was gone; where it had stood reared a maelstrom of clocks and gears. The air grew full of screaming metal as great wheels and pendulums slew down to form a maze of rotating machinery.

    Seraphis paused, eyes moving across the shifting maze. "A steampunk circus now? You''re really full of surprises.".

    Judge stood atop one of the larger gears, and his pistols had somehow glowed soft, golden light. "Welcome to my domain, Master," he said. "Good luck keeping up!

    Seraphis smirked. "Oh, I don''t need luck.".

    She blurted forward, her trail smeared by the blur of motion as she dodged swinging pendulums and whirling cogs. Judge fired down at her, his shots rebounding off the machinery in unpredictable patterns. Seraphis deflected each one with her sheath, sparks lighting up the dim vortex.

    "You''re just stalling," she called out, her voice calm despite the chaos. "What''s your real plan?"

    Judge smiled. "Would you like to know?"

    With a nearly dramatic wave of his hand, the gears shifted, closing in to ensnare Seraphis in a cage of grinding metal. She paused, looking over the closing walls with a critical eye.

    "Impressive," she said, and with a negligent motion sheeled her sword. The cage imploded outwards in a glow of molten metal.

    Judge sighed. "You''re impossible."

    Seraphis stepped out of the smoke, her sheath still dripping with that eerie red aura. "And you''re predictable. Now stop playing games and fight me for real."

    The judge leaned over a little. "Oh, you want real? Fine. Let''s get real. Slamming Golden Eagle together, he collided them into one giant ether cannon. The irresistible power humming through it, and every second that was passing, made the light brighter. "Let''s see if you can handle THIS!" he shouted, firing a concentrated beam of ether straight at her. Seraphis grinned.

    "Finally." She drew her sword out of its scabbard. Scarlet blade ignited, its aura shined bright like the sun. With one single swing, she split the beam in half, the energy dispersing harmlessly around her.

    Judge stared, his jaw hanging open. "Okay, that''s just cheating."

    Seraphis laughed, clear and unrestrained. "Lesson one, kid: there''s no such thing as cheating in a real fight."

    Judge sighed, lowering his weapon. "Fine, you win. But next time, I''m bringing two cannons. And that was some REAL talk about using your full strength, what happened, you just shut it off?"

    His master nodded, "I could lose control and explode if it continued. And also, you clearly can''t even handle the current me, why should I go overboard?"

    Judge sighed deeply, as if he were an old Chinese philosopher rubbing his long white beard thinking about the answer to what life meant. The air around them churned again, placing them both back in the kitchen of the two-story house of Seraphis.

 Chapter 130 The Idiot, The Phoenix, and the Fine Print Conspiracy (volume 1)

    Just as her kitchen materialized around her, Seraphis sighed and turned to look at her disciples. "Okay I am confused, are you really an idiot or are you just faking it?" She paused for a brief second, "Oh wait, what am I even asking, of course, you are an idiot."

    Judge looked at the rambling phoenix, he was confused enough for the confusion to be visible on his face. "Where did that pop up from?" Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "First, let me get this clear¡ª you can imagine whatever you want into existence inside that place right?"

    "Ye-es?"

    "Which means, you can do whatever you need inside this¡ª err... studio."

    "As long as it does not hurt the guest, yes" Judge then went into a dilemma, what does it mean to attack the summoned person? There was clearly no restriction from the side of the studio when I was attacking my master.

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, "You clearly TRIED to attack me in there, are you sure about the restrictions?"

    No, I am not! He wanted to say that, but it was better to hold back on some things. "Hmm..." He took up his thinking position of pinching his chin in order to let his master know that he was thinking.

    When I think about it, I have actually checked the backside of the scrolls that Clio gave me on my first try, but she said as if I had not checked it¡ª which I believed to be true because I did not pay much attention and did not remember checking it.

    There was nothing on the back side, which meant the information that she gave me afterward was just the extended info about skills that were not present on the scrolls. This means just one thing¡ª Clio did not give me the full details about skills, and she even gave me the wrong info about Studio, who knows if the info was correct about the rest? Wait!

    The wording! The scroll did not say that I ''cannot attack people I summon'', It says I ''cannot hurt people I summon''. There is a huge difference, this means the people who enter have to be in the condition they entered or better when they leave¡ª I can attack and even kill, but I have to resurrect and make sure they are in the same condition that they entered in... or better.

    "Master," Judge looked up and stopped pinching his chin.

    "Yes," Seraphis answered as if she was waiting.

    He suddenly laughed, the self-deprecating laugh he did whenever he felt helpless and played by fate, "I sure am an idiot."

    Seraphis audibly smirked, "And you are telling me you just thought of that NOW?"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber was standing in a familiar yet unknown training ground. The place looked the same, but the air felt colder. She was wearing a tight black pant and high leather boots, a white shirt with a black jacket over it, and a white cravat embedded with a green gem.

    She was holding a dark scythe, it was red but an extremely dark red that it could be mistaken for black. Holding the blade that did not shine forward with her right hand, she stood sideways and faced in the direction of the blade.

    There stood another woman, her belly was exposed and she wore a blue full-sleeve dress over her chest which covered her neck. There was a necklace over it with a white heart-shaped stone, she wore a black pant and shoes. Her dark hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, and her ocean-blue eyes watched the scythe that amber held.

    "Let''s start," the woman said in a more aged voice that did not match her figure.

    Amber nodded and leaned in slightly, ready for the next move and on her guard for attacks, "I am in your care, master."

    Her heart was pounding as she clenched the scythe tight. Her "master" took a step forward, and the whole training grounds groaned under her presence. Amber breathed out slowly, took her stance lower, and waited for the clash.

    The woman stretched out her arm, her finger started to pulse and emitted a faint blue light. The air seemed to shimmer around her like the surface of a disturbed lake. Amber darted to the side, her boots sliding on the frosty ground, narrowly avoiding an invisible force that carved a clean groove where she had stood.

    "You have speed," the master said coolly, her tone almost bored. "But speed alone won''t save you."

    Amber lunged forward, her scythe spinning in a tight arc. The dark-red blade sang like a song of death whizzing through the air, straight for the torso of her opponent. But the master shifted effortlessly, her movements so precise that it was as if she knew the strike before Amber made it.

    A hair''s breadth from the blade. Amber''s eyes went wide as the woman countered instantly, twisting her body to deliver a spinning kick. Amber brought up the shaft of her scythe just in time to block, the force of the impact sending her sliding backward.

    "Rather impressive block," the master said, her voice carrying a hint of approval. "But you must do better than that."

    Amber clamped her teeth together, pushing her boots into the ground for balance. She swung the scythe behind her, hewing arcs of crimson in the air. She again charged, feinting hard left, then twisting all of her body to the right, swinging the scythe into a slashing diagonal chop.

    Her master did not flinch. She merely raised her glowing fingers, meeting the blade''s edge. Sparks burst forth, the sound of ether grinding against metal ringing like a chime of war. Amber pushed harder, forcing all her strength into the attack.

    "Good," the master said, her aged voice steady. "But strength without control is like a storm without rain."

    She flicked her fingers and the scythe jerked away like it was struck by an unseen hammer. Amber staggered but spun with the momentum, using the motion to launch a sweeping kick. This time, she connected, her boot brushing the edge of the master''s dress.

    "Better." The master slid back a step, almost unaffected.

    Amber wasted no time. She swung the scythe horizontally, aimed low, forcing the master to leap. As she soared she flipped the weapon, thrusting the blade upward like a spear.

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    The master''s eyes gleamed bright with an approval as she twisted mid-air and barely missed the thrust. She landed graciously, her glowing hand reaching for Amber. A wave of blue energy surged toward Amber like a tidal wave.

    Amber plunged the scythe into the ground, and the dark red metal hummed as it caught the impact of the blow. Ice crept up the blade and down toward her hands.

    "This is what I want to see," the master said, her smile thin and enigmatic.

    Amber roared and pushed forward, shattering the ice with sheer will. She spun the scythe in a deadly dance, her strikes becoming faster, more unpredictable. Horizontal sweeps, vertical slashes, thrusts¡ª all aimed to corner her opponent.

    But the master moved like water, flowing around every attack. She parried with her hands, redirecting Amber''s strikes, deflecting the blade by mere inches.

    "You lean too much on the scythe," the master said. "It''s an extension of you, not a crutch."

    Amber gritted her teeth, recognizing the truth in the words. She readjusted her grip, turning the weapon so the dull end led. She swung with raw force-the shaft aiming for her master''s legs.

    The master sidestepped but didn''t expect Amber to let go of the scythe. It flew past her, embedding itself in the ground. Amber lunged barehanded, and her fist pulsed faintly with a red color.

    The punch connected to her master''s fist that pulsed with a blue color, the impact caused shockwaves that ripped the ground and created a crater where they stood.

    For the first time, a faint smirk crept up onto the master''s face. "Well done."

    Amber didn''t hesitate. She turned around, swinging a backhand strike with her elbow. The master caught it fluidly, twisted Amber''s arm around, and pinned her to a lock.

    But Amber was prepared. She wrenched her whole body and came free from the hold, throwing out a spinning kick.

    The master caught her foot mid-air, holding it tight. "You''re learning."

    Amber panted, sweat dripping from her brow. She held her arm towards her scythe, and the scythe hummed behind her, responding to her call. It pulled itself from the ground and flew toward her. Amber caught it mid-swing, the blade burning with renewed energy.

    With a roar, she brought it down, forcing her master to use both hands to block the strike. This time, the impact forced the master back several paces.

    "Enough," the master finally said, lowering her hands.

    Amber froze, her scythe hovering mid-swing.

    The master nodded, a rare smile gracing her lips. "You''ve passed, for now."

    Amber straightened, her chest heaved as she caught her breath. She wiped the sweat from her brow and offered a slight bow.

    "Thank you, master," she said, her voice trembling with exhaustion and gratitude.

 Chapter 131 The giant snake(fish) who deserved more screentime

    Liam Drakonis was on a tree branch, there were countless cuts and bruises on his skin, but none were serious, they all healed slowly. He looked at the panoramic view of a large lake and a giant snake that lay dead on the shore.

    Smiling at the dead monster, he took out a Worrak skin bag and drank the stored water inside. He was supposed to be looking after his brother who also was allowed to roam the land of dragons, but unfortunately, he never saw Judge.

    He had a few guesses as to why he could not find the tiny scholar he called brother¡ª the curious artifact geek had lost his way and had gone somewhere else. But he was not worried because there were countless protective measures in both their bodies.

    They could be on the verge of death, but would be miraculously revived and be back in the house. Heck, they could even die in one hit and still find themselves back inside the Drakonis palace. The best part is the fact that all of this was prepared by his mother, but she never taught him because she knew he would not listen, that was more of Judge''s style.

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    This power of revival made him remember a line he had heard from his mother long ago, "With enough preparations, she would be more powerful than any person she knew."

    Scary! He vowed to be careful not to offend his mother.

    Just as he was lost in thought, he could smell the aroma of roasted fish. He looked down and saw his sword that was used as a skewer to roast pieces of the giant fish.

    Before the age of seven, the children of the Drakonis house would not get their own weapons. He was six and used a sword as his subsidiary weapon, the weapon he used most times was a catalyst inlaid glove that his mother made for him.

    They were a pair of dark brown combat gloves with black knuckles. He had so much fun strangling this snake, better than what he had when he was slashing away at a rather large four-legged mid-predatory level monster.

    Not being able to handle the strong aroma from the snake-fish meat, he jumped down and took the skewer (Sword). He removed the first piece of meat and sprinkled a powder that was a mix of salt and various seasonings.

    It was precisely because he had this seasoning powder that he was not returning to the house, otherwise¡ª the food would taste horrible without any taste to stimulate his tongue. He was careful not to overuse or waste it, he still could stay a long time in the forest and not return home for more seasonings.

    He thought if Judge would eat unseasoned food, He might, he never was picky when it came to food, heh. Even if he is lost wanted more seasoning after using the complete bottle, he could call for Mom and she could take him back home... such a baby. He took out another piece of fish and seasoned it lightly.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Wow, I''ve got a seasoning bottle inside my luggage," Judge said to his master after rummaging through his pouch. His "luggage" contained a few catalysts, the box containing his wand, a few rune cards, a Worrak skin pouch to contain water, and the glass seasoning bottle. Why does it never break? He had no idea.

    "Then don''t take that thing out, I brought my own." Seraphis was cooking a large rabbit she caught¡ª of course, the rabbit was not just a cute little animal, they were mascots just born to irritate you and spread trouble.

    Both he and his master were, once again, inside the forest near Limdon, it was not much of a large forest, but it had its fair share of dangers inside. But the most dangerous forest would be Devfronds, Tross was a town situated just outside the outer layer of the forest, that town was people''s last stop before they headed in.

    "Master let me go hunt on my own, and why are you banning the use of guns?" Judge was like a little child throwing a tantrum, oblivious to the cruelty of the world. Nobody would say that this guy used to be a heartless manipulator, it was as if he had somehow gone back to his past state, or someone made it so.

    "Judge, how good are you with guns?" Seraphis asked as she turned the rabbit over to cook the top part.

    "I am very confident," Judge said with an air of someone overconfident about to lose an argument.

    "That is exactly why you should be using your two trusty old fists." Seraphis said with an air of someone about to win an argument.

    "Sometimes I never get what you mean," Judge stood up and brushed his back. "Are you saying that I should be using fists because I may lose my guns... Hmm

    ... A reasonable decision."

    Seralhis just stared at him, I had not even said anything, well if it works¡ª don''t touch it.

    She returned her attention to the rabbit that was being cooked.

    Judge, hoping to get some action, went a little more inside the forest but not far away from where his master stood. This was not because he was scared he would get hurt, but he was carefully not to get hurt much¡ª otherwise, his mother could find out that her little "angel" had left the place she told him not to leave- the land of dragons.

    Just as he was about to look for a fine prey, he saw a pack of wolf-like monsters, a vicious group carefully searching for food while being extremely careful about any possible predators.

    Perfect!

    Judge rushed forward, his right leg started to glow in a reddish orange light.

    With greater force his left leg kicked the ground and he leaped up with an overly dramatic spin that just screamed "anime", Seraphis wanted clap for the great show of acrobatics, but she decided to grade the show after the whole performance.

    The "great spin" in mid-air stopped just as he reached over the pack of monsters, the monsters at front and the back growled and readied themselves to attack while the ones at the middle... Well, that just growled¡ª because the middle ones in a pack are the weak children or old monsters and are protected by the young ones with enough vitality.

    Looking at the wolfs who could not attack the air, Judge slammed down his red leg towards them.

    Just as he was sure he would hit, a strong force blasted him sideways. The young dragon was send into the thick bundle of rocks a little away.

    The thick get together of rocks were "unbundled" (I don''t know if that is a word) and their get together were dispersed after too many years of being togther. Judge held his aching head and walked out of the deep hole he just created in a leisurely pace.

    "Who?" He looked at where the punch had came from, there stood a tall wolf with a long thick silver white fur that draped around its neck and on its back, the fur was tinkling with static shock and its eyes were blood red.

    Anybody can tell the monster was dangerous, it is also a cunning one, it let the weak pack go in as a bait whilst masking it as they were hunting for food. Any high level monster would ignore them as they don''t provide much in terms of "food", and the levels of monsters who attack the pack could be handled by this wolf. This was a powerful predator, it had attack power on the level of a high predator, he could lose if was not careful.

    Judge was not wearing a mask, the end of his lips crawled upward. Without the mask to hide it, anyone would think twice before messing with this "psycho". He was not scared, after all, even though it was not a proper win, he had really won against a Sky Talon¡ª a calamity class monster. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge shook both his fists like a professional boxer trying to look cool. Then, both ends of his arms turned black, and a single eye of his glowed red. (These were all for effects)

    "No sword style," he said in a gruff voice, trying to imitate a certain green haired pirate in his previous world. "Dragon twister."

    Suddenly, a Strom with visible wind blades formed around the big wolf, enclosing it.

    Electricity crackled around it as it leaped forward, completely ignoring the wind blades that he made with enough flair for a whole theatrical drama.

    As it leaped forward, Judge jumped up in the air and raised his leg, solidifying the air into a giant hammer. He brought down his leg as the giant wolf jumped to the side and at him again from a different angle.

    "That would be enough!" Seraphis released a bit of her will, pinning down Judge, the giant wolf, and the wolf monster pack.

 Chapter 132

    Judge painstakingly craned his neck upward, each muscle protesting like an old door hinge. His master, Seraphis, sat perched on a nearby rock, demonstrating what could only be described as culinary barbarism. She gnawed unapologetically on a rabbit leg, juices dripping down her fingers like she was auditioning for a wilderness survival show. Napkins? Utensils? Manners? All foreign concepts to her, apparently. The seasoning on the rabbit was so strong that the mere aroma made Judge''s eyes water¡ª assuming that wasn''t just from the pain radiating through his body.

    Meanwhile, the giant wolf-like monstrosity, aptly named a Moon Stalker, flopped around on the ground like a fish that had suddenly remembered it didn''t have legs. Every time it tried to rise, it collapsed in a heap, its massive, clawed paws clawing at the air in defiance of gravity.

    Judge forced out a strained, wheezy, and slightly bitter, "Why are you interfering? Don''t tell me I can''t defeat it."

    Seraphis paused mid-bite, her expression unreadable behind the cooked rabbit leg. She held up a single grease-slicked finger, pausing for dramatic effect like a sage bestowing great wisdom¡ª or a mom about to deliver a scolding. "Two things," she announced. "First off..." Her index finger wiggled for emphasis. "That monster is a Moon Stalker. High predator level, one of the closest monsters to be a cataclysm class. You know what that means, right? No way, no how, a snot-nosed kid like you who only knows to shoot bullets and witty remarks is beating that thing¡ª god incarnate or whatever title you''ve slapped on yourself to feel better because you are too weak."

    Judge lay there in silence. Not because her words struck a chord or made him reconsider his choices, but because he literally couldn''t move. His limbs were about as useful as overcooked noodles (at least they are still tasty to eat). So much for the awe-inspiring, godlike existence he was supposed to represent. The real tragedy here? No sarcastic retorts. He mentally filed her comments under ''things to snark about later.''

    Seraphis, unbothered by his lack of verbal sparring, raised a second finger and took another ferocious chomp out of her rabbit leg. "Second thing¡ªand this one, oh boy, this is important, so listen up¡ª" She paused to chew obnoxiously loudly, the wet sound somehow amplifying the gravity of the situation. Judge internally cringed. "Strength isn''t about how many you can kill, it''s about knowing when to not kill." Read exclusive content at My Virtual Library Empire

    Judge blinked. His thoughts, still fuzzy from exhaustion, came to a screeching halt. What? sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She continued, gesturing dramatically with the half-eaten rabbit leg. "That Moon Stalker wasn''t attacking for fun; it was hunting for food. Survival. You''ve got to learn this, Judge: It''s not how many you can defeat that defines your strength, but how often you choose to forgive when you could instead cause pain¡ª for strength is not measured by destruction but by restraint," pause for effect, "restraint is the hallmark of the truly powerful."

    As her words hung in the air like an unsolicited motivational speech, two immediate thoughts bubbled to the surface of Judge''s foggy brain. First thought: Wow, you sound ancient. Second thought: Where was this so-called restraint when you were pummeling me into the ground during training?

    Instinctively, he decided that sharing either thought aloud might result in him becoming the next item on her menu. Not that he could speak at the moment anyway¡ª his mouth was staging its own protest, opting for a strict "no talking" policy.

    Seraphis leaned back, satisfied like someone who''d just dropped the mic at a motivational seminar¡ª except in her case, the mic was a half-gnawed rabbit leg, and the audience was either unconscious, fleeing, or contemplating their life choices.

    Judge, lying flat on his back and questioning his own sanity, tried not to choke on the irony of her moral high ground. Restraint? Sure, coming from the woman who could probably single-handedly demolish a small kingdom if she stubbed her toe.

    The oppressive tension in the air lifted as Seraphis reclined further and her will was lifted, like a benevolent goddess after delivering divine wisdom.

    The Moon Stalker, sensing an opportunity, made a calculated retreat. It led its pack away with the kind of determination you''d expect from a monster who had just barely survived a close brush with death. Watching the creature shepherd its family to safety before making its own escape, Judge couldn''t help but feel an odd pang of admiration for it. Loyalty, leadership, and selflessness? The wolf had it all. Maybe it should''ve been delivering sermons instead of Seraphis.

    As the pack disappeared into the shadows, Judge''s mind wandered to his own life. The memories hit him like a runaway carriage, and suddenly, he was a kid again¡ª trapped in the gilded cage of his family''s wealth. Born into privilege, he was the sole heir to an empire of assets, a burden that felt heavier than Seraphis''s lectures. As a child, the mansion''s walls were suffocating, not because they were literal walls but because they represented an unending list of responsibilities, expectations, and lessons.

    Magic, the lifeblood of their civilization, was no stranger to him. But in a world where magic enhanced everything from guns to bombs to the magical equivalent of nukes, Judge was pushed toward firearms instead of his true love¡ª swords. Guns were practical, efficient, and, let''s face it, a status symbol for the ultra-rich. A sword? To his family, that was quaint, outdated, and about as fashionable as wearing socks with sandals... unless you are in Japan... or Germany... or somewhere else where wearing socks with sandals is morally legal.

    But Judge wasn''t one to be told what to love. He''d sneak away to practice with a blade whenever he could, though the lack of formal training in magical energy suited for swordplay made it an uphill battle.

    The family taught him how to effectively and efficiently use guns (Yeah he was just a five-year-old back then), but the method for using a gun was different from using other weapons. As for situations where he could not use a gun, he was taught melee close combat¡ª and the applications of magical energy were still different as it was just internal.

    Then came the day that changed everything. His mother was poisoned, and the cracks in his seemingly perfect life split wide open. The maid responsible was caught, tried, and sentenced to death. Judge still remembered her stunned reaction when the judge literally spelled out her sentence with dramatic flair. ("D-E-A-T-H S-E-N-T-E-N-C-E" "Huh?") His father, though consumed by grief, tried to keep things together for his son. But fate wasn''t done kicking the family while it was down¡ª his father, too, was poisoned shortly after.

    Then came the domino effect. His grandfather and unmarried uncle followed in quick succession. (No, the uncle didn''t die a virgin, thank you very much; he''d made sure everyone knew that detail before his untimely demise.) Suddenly, Judge was alone, the last of his family standing, heir to a fortune that felt more like a curse.

    But Judge wasn''t one to sit idly by and let life steamroll him. While the adults around him bickered over who would take charge, he had quietly begun investigating his mother''s death when the maid was sentenced to death.

    What he uncovered was a web of lies, conspiracies, and enough family drama to fuel a hundred gossip columns. One by one, the schemers responsible for his family''s downfall met their end. Some suffocated mysteriously, others found their scheming heads and bodies deciding to part ways. Judge, operating under the alias Min Jae, became a living nightmare for those who crossed him.

    By the time he completed his education, he''d earned the nickname The Gravekeeper. It wasn''t a title he''d sought out, but it fit like a glove¡ª or perhaps a sword hilt. His work wasn''t flashy, but it was effective: he sent the wicked to their rightful place¡ª six feet under. And despite his bloody past, he even managed to squeeze in some time to finally master the art of swordplay.

    Wait... swords? Judge''s train of thought screeched to a halt. Hold up. I''ve wielded a sword before. I was decent at it, too. So why am I fumbling around like some clueless rookie now? A sinking realization hit him like a poorly aimed fireball.

    From the very start, I''ve been acting like a child¡ª literally and figuratively. But why? He frowned, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking into place. I think I''ve regressed to my childhood mindset, back when I was just a sheltered kid with no blood on my hands. Before all the revenge, before the Gravekeeper.

    The epiphany wasn''t comforting. If anything, it made him feel even more absurd lying there, helpless, while Seraphis continued her philosophical rabbit-chewing marathon. I''m supposed to be cold, unmerciful, a force to be reckoned with¡ª and here I am, needing life lessons from someone who eats like she''s auditioning for a role as "barbaric queen of the meat tribe."

    He groaned internally. Maybe he''d figure it out later¡ª assuming he survived Seraphis''s restraint boot camp.

 Chapter 133 Lets go hunt some... c-cloth?

    "Master!"

    Judge''s voice croaked out like a rusty hinge being nudged open, which, frankly, wasn''t too far off from how he felt. His enthusiasm might''ve been lacking, but the volume was just enough to reach Seraphis.

    Seraphis turned towards him, her hand slick with grease and who-knows-what remnants of her culinary attempt. She gave it a mighty shake, and behold! The meaty leftovers scattered as though fearing for their very existence. Even the grease¡ª that slippery traitor that usually clings on through soap and water¡ª surrendered and fled.

    "Get over here, you whining lizard." She leaped over, grabbed him by the collar like a scolding mother cat, and dragged him back to the pathetic excuse for a campfire. Judge found himself unceremoniously seated and handed what appeared to be... meat. Blackened. Burnt to a crisp. Seasoned with enough salt to rival a sailor''s vocabulary.

    "Eat."

    Judge stared at it. It stared back. His stomach, sadly, voted for survival over dignity. With a dramatic sigh, he bit into the charred offering, the crunch echoing like gravel underfoot.

    "What?" Seraphis finally asked, her voice as sharp as the seasoning on that monstrosity.

    "I think I remember something," Judge mumbled between bites, his tone almost hopeful. "I''m pretty sure I''ve got a better handle on swords now."

    Seraphis raised a skeptical brow, inspecting him as if he''d just announced he could tame a chimera with a stick and a smile. "You don''t just learn to wield a weapon. You stumble, fail, and probably lose a few teeth, and after all that suffering, you might stop being an embarrassment."

    Judge frowned but wisely didn''t argue. He wasn''t suicidal, after all. "Alright, fine. Whatever. So¡­ what was the target again? Night dress? Evening gown? Pajama specter?"

    "It''s called a night cloth," she said, sighing as if she were dealing with an idiot. Which, to be fair, she was. "Are you sure you haven''t hit your head recently?"

    "Night cloth. Got it." Judge ignored her patronizing tone and pushed on. "Let''s hunt it down, then! Let''s march onward!"

    "Sit." Seraphis rolled her eyes so hard they practically did a full rotation. "The night cloth is a nocturnal monster. Nocturnal, as in, it only comes out at night. Right now, it''s probably napping underground, dreaming of spooking idiots like you. So sit down and stop wasting my oxygen. How dumb are you, idiot Lizard? It makes me curious how you survived till now."

    "Hey, don''t insult dragons! We''re majestic creatures of¡ª "

    "You''re just a lizard. A dumb one at that."

    Judge puffed up indignantly. "For your information, dragons are not lizards. In fact, aren''t phoenixes technically a subspecies of dragons? Like cloud striders?"

    "What?" Seraphis squinted at him, her confusion palpable. "That''s the dumbest thing I''ve ever heard, and I''ve met goblins who think spoons are hats."

    In fact, both knew that phoenixes are subspecies of dragons... like cloud striders, but Seraphis Just seemed to not like saying it.

    Seraphis put out the fire and jumped up the nearby tree in order to wait for nightfall. Judge just sat below, contemplating on his life choices once more, he felt dumber as time passed, but he could not just go on like this.

    Both leaned on the tree and watched as the sun went down the horizon. Well, Seraphis did, Judge could not see much because he was below.

    Night fell, and the pair prepared for battle. Seraphis handed Judge a gleaming silver blade, its edge was polished to perfection. Judge looked at it, then at her, eyebrows raised. "Uh, isn''t silver for, like, werewolves or vampires or... something?"

    "You really are hopeless." Seraphis groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Silver isn''t just for werewolves, and I don''t know who gave you the idea it works for vampires. It''s a universal wrecking ball for all ghost-type nasties. Ghosts, spirits, shadow monsters, and yes, your fancy night cloth. It disrupts their etheric essence or whatever mumbo jumbo the scholars like to spout. Basically, silver says, ''I see your creepy supernatural nonsense and raise you obliteration.'' Got it?"

    Judge blinked. "So, it''s like the garlic bread of weapons. Everyone likes it, but monsters hate it."

    "... strange, but let''s go with that."

    The duo ventured more into the forest, the shadows thick and oppressive. Then, a soft rustling emerged from the bushes, followed by a low, eerie hum. Seraphis stepped forward confidently, silver blade glinting in the moonlight.

    The night cloth emerged¡ª a swirling mass of inky fabric that moved as if it had a life of its own. Its edges shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and its "face" was an empty void, save for two glowing slits for eyes.

    "Uh, it''s a sheet," Judge whispered. "A spooky bed sheet."

    "It''s about to be your shroud if you don''t focus." S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The night cloth lunged, faster than expected. Judge yelped and swung wildly, his blade passing through the creature with a sizzling sound. The cloth screeched, retreating slightly.

    "See? Silver works," Seraphis smirked, darting in to deliver a precise slash that tore through the creature''s form.

    Judge, emboldened, tried a fancy spin move. Instead, he tripped over a root and landed flat on his back. The night cloth, sensing an opportunity, loomed over him.

    "Hey, I''m not laundry!" Judge shouted, flailing his blade.

    "Focus, you clumsy gecko!" Seraphis yelled, slashing through the cloth''s midsection. It screeched again, fragments of its fabric disintegrating into mist.

    After several chaotic minutes of dodging, slicing, and Judge providing unintentional comedy relief, the night cloth let out one final wail, and the cloth dissolved completely, leaving a small blob of who knows what.

    Seraphis stood over Judge, who was still sprawled on the ground. "Congratulations. You survived. Barely."

    "Teamwork," Judge wheezed. "I distracted it while you finished it off. Great plan."

    "Sure, let''s call it that." She offered him a hand, hauling him to his feet.

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    As they trudged back to camp, Seraphis muttered, "Next time, try not to trip over your own tail."

    "Next time, maybe cook something that doesn''t try to fight back," Judge retorted.

    Seraphis snorted. "Next time, maybe try ''using'' a sword."

    Before Judge could whip out a witty comeback¡ª he swore it was on the tip of his tongue¡ª Seraphis froze mid-step, her sharp gaze darting to the side. Judge''s scales prickled. There it was again¡ª a sound, faint but deliberate, like a leaf crunching underfoot. Someone, or something, was moving through the woods. Slowly. Steadily. Almost trying to be inconspicuous, but he sure does not know about dragons.

    Seraphis'' instincts kicked in immediately. No assessing, no debating, just act. She swooped down, snatched up the remains of the night cloth, and turned toward Judge with a look that screamed "Don''t argue."

    "What now¡ª" Judge began, but Seraphis grabbed his collar with one hand and launched them both into the nearest tree.

    "Not this again¡­" he muttered under his breath as they ascended like a very ungraceful pair of squirrels.

    Up they went, past branches and through a maze of leaves, until they perched at the very top. Judge gracefully sat on the branch, feeling too much like an assassin on steroids. Seraphis crouched like a predator, her crimson eyes glowing faintly. Probably some fancy ethercraft to help her see better.

    "What happened to your..." Seraphis raised a hand to show him a quotation mark, " I''ve got a better handle on swords now."

    "Should I remind you that it is dark? And maybe I don''t have the skills to see in the dark?"

    Seraphis just looked at him, baffled, "Don''t you know that all dragons could see in the dark?"

    Now Judge looked confused, "What?"

    His master sighed, "Just imaging the night being lit up, imagine that there is no darkness."

    Judge nodded seriously, he looked down and imagined it being lit up. Slowly, the darkness started to vanish, and he could see everything as good as day, even without the glare. "I can see!" He exclaimed.

    "See, easy."

    Judge turned his attention back to the ground, "Can''t you just, I don''t know, fight whatever or whoever it is?" He asked, clinging to the trunk as the tree swayed. His voice carried more hope than sense.

    Seraphis didn''t even glance at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground below, her voice low and serious. "Didn''t your mother ever teach you that no matter how strong you think you are, there''s always someone stronger?"

    Judge nodded quickly. He wasn''t about to argue. Not when she looked like she was ready to toss him out of the tree for backtalk.

    "Good. Here''s your next lesson: don''t fight enemies unless you know and understand what you''re up against."

    Judge thought about cracking a joke, but decided against it. The last thing he needed was a lecture about how his sense of humor was weaker than his swordsmanship. Instead, he lampooned inwardly: I get it, but you''re more of a monster than most people anyway.

    "Do you know why?" she pressed.

    Judge shook his head, pretending to focus on the forest below.

    "Of course you don''t. Dumb lizard."

    He bit his tongue. Silence was his safest weapon right now.

 Chapter 134 The Headache That Roared

    "Here''s the deal." Seraphis shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing. She was lecturing him when there was an unknown enemy right below them. Wow! speak about commitment to teaching.

    "Ethercraft is only as strong as the principle behind it. It can be anything, based on creativity. Anything."

    Judge nodded, remembering the strange, almost absurd principles he''d seen before. A literal god who created a fake reality to do fake time loops, a guy who walked on air instead of just flying. Creativity would be useful as long as you are not wierd.

    "But," Seraphis continued, "because there are countless principles, there are also countless ways to counter them. Ethercrafts can work like scissors, paper, and rock. You could be the strongest out there, but if someone''s principle hard-counters yours, you''re toast. Got it?" Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

    "Mhm." Judge nodded again, his focus returning to the woods below.

    The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. The blue moonlight trickled through the canopy, painting everything in a ghostly glow. Then, movement.

    A figure emerged from the underbrush, stepping into the clearing with an eerie confidence. They wore a long brown coat that billowed slightly, and atop their head sat a navy colored triangular hat that looked both ridiculous and ominous at the same time.

    Both Judge and his master looked at the man with a triangular hat, wondering whether he was lost and was searching for the sea or just had a weird fashion sense.

    Judge blinked. "What is that? A scarecrow trying out a new career?"

    "Shh." Seraphis hissed, her grip tightening on her blade.

    The figure paused in the clearing, tilting his head upward as though he could sense the duo in the tree. The hat shifted slightly, revealing glowing yellow eyes that gleamed like molten gold. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Okay," Judge whispered. "Not a scarecrow. Definitely not a scarecrow."

    The person in the hat raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the air around him shimmered. A faint, black aura enveloped his figure, and the grass at his feet began to wilt.

    Seraphis muttered under her breath. "That''s not good."

    "Uh, care to elaborate?" Judge whispered back, his grip on the tree tightening.

    "Rot principle," she said grimly. "Everything they touch decays. Grass, wood, flesh, ether¡ª it doesn''t matter. We need to get out of here. On that note, I might need to give you lessons on how to hide your presence."

    "Great plan," Judge said, ignoring the ''lessons'' part. "Let''s just shimmy down this giant tree without touching the ground, the leaves, or anything else."

    Seraphis shot him a glare. "Would you rather stay here and wait for them to rot the whole forest, including this tree?"

    "Point taken."

    She leaped down without another word, moving like a shadow. Judge followed, albeit less gracefully, landing with a grunt.

    The figure in the hat turned toward them, their golden eyes locking onto Judge. A smile, faint but unnerving, curled across their face.

    "Well," Judge muttered. "Guess we''re about to find out if I''ve really gotten better with swords."

    "Don''t worry," Seraphis said, drawing her silver blade. "I''ll make sure to tell your mother you died valiantly. Maybe."

    "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Master," Judge muttered with a sarcastic grin that could rival a used-car salesman pitching a boat.

    He knew, deep down in the parts of his soul he''d rather not examine too closely, that her grim warning was as likely as a dragon agreeing to work as a village mail carrier. She would never let him die¡ª not because she liked him or anything, but because his mother was her best friend. Best friend¡­ Wait. Friend...

    A fuzzy, uncomfortable image of a certain guy with a red, cabernet sauvignon wine bottle floated to the front of his mind, like a fish bobbing to the surface of a murky pond. He couldn''t pin down the details¡ª what was the guy''s name again? Brad? Chad? Something punchable, for sure.

    All Judge knew was that if he ever found that particular individual, the man better have life insurance, a last will, and maybe a pre-written apology on standby. Forgiveness? Oh, not a chance.

    Before he could stew in his hatred any longer, Judge screamed.

    It wasn''t just a little yelp of surprise or even a dignified shout of "Oh no, my brain feels funky!" No, this was a full-throated, blood-curdling screech, the kind you''d expect from someone who''d just stubbed their toe on a table made entirely of spite. His hands flew to his temples, pressing as if he thought he could squeeze the pain out like juice from an overripe lemon.

    Meanwhile, Seraphis, ever the pragmatic type, looked on in mild horror. This was not part of her job description. Confused as to whether this was some elaborate performance art piece or a legitimate medical emergency, she opted for the safest course of action: scooping Judge up like a sack of traumatized potatoes.

    Without a second thought, she bolted. No dramatic monologue, no calculated plan¡ª just pure, unfiltered adrenaline and the faint hope she was running in the right direction.

    "I did not come to fight you!" a voice called out from the background, the source was the man wearing a triangular hat so impractical it would''ve been better suited as a roof for a birdhouse. His tone was somewhere between exasperation and mild amusement.

    Receiving no reply¡ª because, you know, Judge was too busy experiencing what could only be described as a migraine from the ninth circle of hell¡ª the man shrugged with the nonchalance of someone who regularly lost arguments with their cat.

    Holding his hat firmly in place, he muttered to himself, "Saphiel seems to care a great deal for his new student. What a shame, the kid looks like the kind who trips over air." He sighed, a long and theatrical affair that implied he was deeply misunderstood by the universe, before trudging off into the woods. Whatever lay ahead, he clearly didn''t expect it to involve anything more dramatic than a raccoon stealing his lunch.

    Meanwhile, Seraphis was in full panic mode, which, for her, looked an awful lot like rummaging through her back pouch with the determination of someone trying to find a phone charger in a dark room. She didn''t dare stop running or glance over her shoulder. Sure, she could fight whoever that guy was¡ªand probably win¡ªbut not with her disciple currently auditioning for Loudest Screams in the History of Screaming.

    Her frantic search came to a halt when her hand closed around something. She pulled it out triumphantly, revealing a peculiar object: a transparent globe with a dark sphere suspended in the center, encircled by two golden rings. If it looked fragile and expensive, that''s because it was, but this wasn''t the time to worry about warranties. Judge was still screeching like someone had just told him taxes were due tomorrow.

    Holding the globe aloft, Seraphis activated it. A shimmering blue light engulfed them, and the world twisted, stretched, and abruptly replaced itself with¡­ a room. An unfamiliar room, to be precise. The kind of place that screamed "classy but ominous." Judge continued his caterwauling, though now mercifully muted, as if the sound itself had been shoved through a pair of noise-canceling headphones.

    Seraphis wasted no time darting through a nearby door, returning moments later with someone who could only be described as "the poster child for formalwear." He wore a tailored suit so sharp it probably came with a warning label, complete with a high collar, waistcoat, and cravat.

    His silver-rimmed monocle gleamed under the light, and his silver hair and beard practically radiated sophistication. He looked like the kind of guy who knew exactly how many teaspoons of sugar were in your tea¡ª and judged you for it.

    Without a word, the man fished a cube from his coat pocket, tossed it in the air, and snapped his fingers. A faint white barrier shimmered into existence along the walls, and Judge''s muted screams abruptly returned to full volume. It was like unmuting a chaotic group video call you regretted joining.

    Seraphis flinched, gesturing at the still-flailing Judge. "Do you know what''s wrong with him?" she asked, the desperation in her voice cutting through the noise.

    The monocled man adjusted his accessory with the care of someone defusing a bomb. "Ah, yes. Classic case of Memoir Bane Prying."

    Seraphis blinked, her face clearly broadcasting What in the world is that supposed to mean? But she nodded anyway, because when a man with a monocle uses big words, you just nod. "And that is¡­?"

    "An extremely rare condition," he said, his tone dripping with the authority of someone who hadn''t been questioned in decades. "I haven''t seen one in nearly a century. It''s a side effect of mental ethercraft, specifically principles used to seal memories. When someone attempts to recall those sealed memories, well¡­" He gestured toward Judge, who was currently redefining ''losing your mind.'' "This happens. Fortunately, it''s not a disease. He''ll recover."

    Seraphis let out a long, relieved sigh, rubbing her temples. "Thank goodness," she muttered, and then her face got back to being serious. "For a second there, I thought I''d have to throw him into a fountain to see if that would help."

    The man raised an eyebrow, his monocle glinting ominously. "Had you done so, Seraphis, I would have billed you for the cleanup."

    "Fine," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Bill me later."

    She then looked at her disciple, just one thought ruminating in her mind¡ª Mental Ethercraft! It was the hardest type of ethercraft to create a principle out of, and also the use was limited due to the severe use of the caster''s psyche. So it was just as unpopular as it was dangerous.

 Chapter 135 Lost and Found? Nah, Just Lost

    Judge groggily opened his eyes, blinking a few times as if trying to adjust to the dim light. His headache, which earlier felt like a marching band had taken up residence in his skull, had finally packed up and left. Good riddance. However, as clarity returned, so did the memory of him.

    The guy who had betrayed him, stabbed him in the back¡ª or, wait¡ª poisoned him straight through the mouth. "Why does that sound so... off?" Judge muttered to himself, frowning at the thought.

    That guy, Seo Jun, wasn''t just a former friend. No, Seo Jun was the kind of guy you''d pick out of a crowd and say, "Yeah, he''s probably the lead in a K-drama I''ll cry over later." With his long, tussled blue hair and sharp features, he could have walked into an idol agency and signed a contract on the spot¡ª if not for one tragic flaw.

    The man was allergic to makeup. Not "oh no, my skin is sensitive" allergic; no, more like break out into hives and look like a horror movie extra allergic. And yet, even without it, he could''ve still stolen the spotlight. Typical Seo Jun.

    As Judge''s vision sharpened, his gaze fell on his master, Seraphis, who sat nearby. At first, her face looked concerned, almost¡­ worried? But as the blur cleared, her expression shifted into something more familiar: the signature "you''re so pathetic I almost pity you" look that could crush even the cockiest of egos.

    Haa¡­ Judge sighed internally. The headache must''ve caused hallucinations. For a second there, I thought she actually cared about me. Strange headache, indeed.

    "You''re awake," Seraphis said in her usual cool, detached tone, as if she hadn''t just spent the night watching over him. "Let''s head back. I''ve got a few things to discuss."

    Judge groaned as he propped himself up, his muscles protesting with every move. "Why? Did something happen?" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You were screaming like the child you are," she replied bluntly, standing up and moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Anyway, don''t try to remember things you might''ve forgotten."

    "Huh?" Judge froze, confusion plastered all over his face. How does she know? Wait¡ª can she actually read minds? No way¡ª right?

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    "The doctor mentioned it," she said, cutting off his internal monologue. Her voice softened, almost imperceptibly, into something resembling maternal concern. It was a tone he''d only ever heard from his actual mother, and even then, it came with the underlying threat of "Don''t make me regret this."

    "You''re trying to recall memories that are sealed," she explained. "Let it go, Judge. Your past isn''t worth breaking yourself over. Let go of the need to remember. Some things are hidden for a reason, and finding them could hurt you more than you realize."

    Judge turned his head toward the open window, her words bouncing around his mind like marbles in a tin can. Outside, the world was already buzzing. Path weavers bustled along the streets, weaving intricate patterns on the cobblestones below.

    Overhead, two cloud weavers glided gracefully across the sky, likely heading for the port. The early morning light had yet to pierce through, leaving the street lit by lanterns and the faint glow of a bright half-moon hanging lazily in the blue-black sky.

    His gaze lingered on the moon, its luminescent blue hue sparking a memory. Blue... Clio... Huh? His body stiffened as the name echoed in his mind like a haunting melody he couldn''t place.

    Suddenly, pain exploded in his head like a firework display gone horribly wrong. He clutched at his temples, groaning at first, then screaming as the pain intensified. Flashes of her came to him¡ª her blue hair, that maddening smirk that could make even the devil throw up his hands and say, "I give up!" But her face? Her face was shrouded in an impenetrable fog, just out of reach.

    Her eyes¡­ yes, those piercing ice blue eyes. Her elegant, sharp nose. But no matter how hard he tried, her face wouldn''t come into focus. The more he strained to remember, the sharper the pain grew, until it felt like his skull might crack under the pressure.

    Just a single voice came to his mind, "Judge, please forget about me and live peacefully."¡ª it was something she had said.

    Seraphis sighed deeply, the sound a mix of annoyance and reluctant concern. With a snap of her fingers, she silenced her screaming disciple. "Exactly as the doctor predicted," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Of course, he''d try to remember the moment I told him not to. Stubborn fool. But¡­ it''s necessary."

    She glanced at Judge, now lying there, mercifully silent but still writhing in discomfort. "You''re going to make my job so much harder, aren''t you?" she said, shaking her head. "Well, keep it up, kid. It''s not like I have anything better to do with my life than babysit you."

    And with that, she settled back into her chair, her lips quirking into a faint smile. Because, for all her grumbling, she cared for her disciple. Not that she''d ever admit it.

    Little did Judge know, he was unknowingly filling a void in Seraphis''s heart. She had lost her only daughter years ago, and for the past four years, she''d searched tirelessly for traces of her. Though she would never say it, Judge had become a child for her to look after¡ª a surrogate for the daughter she could no longer hold.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In the serene garden of the Drakonis estate, a gazebo stood as a haven for what should have been a relaxing afternoon. Yet, the atmosphere inside was as thick as the cream in their tea. Gereon, Eleyn, and Alex were seated around a finely polished table, framed by the lush greenery of their estate. Two guards in pristine white coats stood nearby, their expressions frozen in an unwavering mix of politeness and discomfort. Bowing every time someone even glanced in their direction was apparently in their job description. (A/N: Okay, truth be told, writing like this is exhausting. What am I doing with life)

    Gereon and Alex sat on one side, sipping their tea with an intensity that suggested they were trying to outdo each other in polite sipping. Across from them, Eleyn sat with the grace of a queen, her teacup an extension of her poised demeanor. Yet, despite the idyllic setting, this tea party felt less like a family gathering and more like the prelude to a war.

    "They still can''t find him after he teleported," Gereon finally broke the silence, his voice had a hint of genuine worry. "Eleyn, it''s been days. Why don''t you just find him already? I don''t like the idea of him being out there in trouble. Who knows what kind of mess he''s landed in?"

    Eleyn barely glanced up from her teacup, her expression as calm as ever. "Judge is fine, Father. Trust me. If anything remotely dangerous happened, he''d be the first to call for help. Loudly. Possibly with tears."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, his worry momentarily eclipsed by skepticism. Alex, ever the opportunist, saw his chance to chime in. "She''s right, Dad. Unlike Liam, Judge actually inherited your knack for strategy. He''s not going to pick a fight unless he knows how to win it. Now, Liam? He''s a different story. He picks fights like he''s collecting them for a hobby, and he''s still in one piece."

    "At least Liam has his guards with him," Gereon shot back, his gaze sharp as he turned to Alex. "Judge teleported to who knows where, without so much as a goodbye, and Eleyn refuses to track him down. She could find him in minutes if she wanted to!"

    Eleyn set her cup down with a quiet clink, her tone as smooth as the tea she was savoring. "Father, I understand your concern, but Judge is trying very hard to stay hidden. I have no intention of disturbing him. He wouldn''t do something reckless. Besides, I''ve used divination. Every single outcome says he''s not in mortal danger or headed for long-term trouble."

    The reassurance did little to ease Gereon''s tension. He sighed heavily and took a long sip of his tea, reaching for a biscuit to distract himself. "I sure hope you''re right. And Liam¡­ I just hope he doesn''t break his body with all that reckless fighting of his."

    Eleyn and Alex both nodded in unison, their teacups raised in silent agreement. The atmosphere softened slightly, and for a moment, it almost seemed like the tension would dissolve entirely.

    Meanwhile, Liam was proving his grandfather''s concerns right in spectacular fashion. He was currently airborne¡ª or rather, he had been airborne. Now, he was one with a stone wall, having been slammed into it with enough force to make the masonry reconsider its life choices. His left arm hung limp, the wrist bent at an angle that suggested permanent regret. Blood and grime caked his enchanted clothes, but his fiery determination burned brighter than ever.

    Gripping his sword tightly in his one good hand, Liam raised it high, defying both pain and common sense. Across from him, his opponent¡ª a hulking demon with jagged, stone-like skin¡ª threw its head back and unleashed a guttural, mocking laugh. It was the kind of laugh that said, "You''re not walking out of this alive, buddy."

    But Liam? Liam wasn''t listening. He wasn''t here to walk away. He was here to fight, to win, or to give that demon a reason to never underestimate someone with a Drakonis surname ever again.

 Chapter 136 You Call That Cheating? Hold My Sword

    Liam groaned, pushing himself off from the jagged cave wall as pain lanced through his left arm like lightning, like a sudden burst of thunder on a sunny day. It made him instinctively look down.

    His hand had been broken in two and was just hanging there, like a broken puppet with no strings to control him. Each ragged breath he took was shallow but he forced himself onward. The demon stayed suspended mid-air before him, its blood-red eyes were just plain, no color other than red was present. There was no nose, the creepy smile was stretched to both ends of its face, and the smile revealed the sharp teeth that were laced inside.

    The creature laughed, and his chuckle echoed throughout the cavern, dripping with mockery. He twisted his head in an abnormally unnatural position, snapping his neck as if he enjoyed the sound. Liam gritted his teeth, his good hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. That monster would not get what he wanted, to be able to see Liam hesitate.

    The cavern seemed pulsing with energy as he took a running start.

    His legs burned with effort, but he refused to heed the ache. He zigzagged desperately, trying to avoid the demon''s gaze. His movements were a dance of determination and desperation, and his broken arm flopped in protest as he sprinted forward.

    The demon reached out one clawed hand, sending a volley of crimson orbs hurtling toward him. Each sphere was filled with chaotic energy, and it hissed as it streaked through the air.

    Liam ducked low, twisting his body into a roll that sent pebbles scattering. As he emerged, he pushed off the ground and leaped, narrowly dodging an orb that exploded into a fiery burst inches from where he had stood. The heat singed his boots, but he didn''t stop. Pivoting mid-air, he spun like a corkscrew, his sword arcing toward the demon.

    The blade struck a barrier of crackling energy the demon hastily conjured, and the impact sent jarring vibration up Liam''s arm as he grunted and set his teeth.

    He used the momentum to kick off the barrier and flipped backward, that agility of the action for one so injured astonished him. He skidded on his boots around the rocky floor as he gained his feet, shifting himself into position to be prepared for the next attack that came.

    The demon sneered, raising both of his hands. Black energy tore across the air around it, sharp jagged spears taking on a life of their own and hovering menacingly as they shot toward Liam in quick succession. He dashed sideways, boots scraping across the rough ground as he twisted and turned. One spear managed to graze his shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh, but he refused to back down, grunting through the pain.

    Channeling ether into his legs, Liam pushed off the ground and launched himself toward a stalactite overhead. His boots connected with the rocky surface, and he clung to it briefly, crouched like a predator.

    He let out a sharp exhale as he kicked off, somersaulting over another volley of energy spears. He swung his blade downward as he fell, releasing a crescent shaped arc of ether that sliced through the air like a comet.

    With another snarl, the demon blurred around to the left to avoid it, but the arc went across the end of its other wing. The demon, now extremely angry, let out a loud roar. Liam wanted to cover his ears, but that was not possible with a broken hand and another one with the sword.

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    Liam roared in his own way, a roar that rivaled a child, and charged forward toward the demon who clearly was not in the mood to continue playing.

    When he was in range to attack, Liam pretended to go left, then twisted sharply to the right. His blade swished up in a broad arc, but the demon twisted its torso in an unnatural, jerky motion and avoided the attack.

    Undaunted, Liam spun around, finishing a powerful kick aimed at the demon''s chest. The kick connected, and the creature was knocked backward into a stalagmite with a deafening crash. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Liam didn''t waste a second. He dashed forward like a lightning bolt in a hurry to strike twice, leaping onto a boulder and springboarding off it like a kid who just discovered trampolines. The demon, not one to admire acrobatics, growled like a grouchy neighbor and swiped at him with a claw that radiated fire energy so intense it could probably toast marshmallows from a mile away.

    Liam twisted mid-air in a move that screamed, "Look, Mom, no injuries!" narrowly avoiding the fiery swipe. With a grunt and determination that could rival a stubborn goat, he swung his sword in a dramatic overhead arc.

    The demon managed to save its neck but wasn''t quick enough to keep its arm. Plop! Off it went. Now, if losing a limb doesn''t ruin your day, what will? Losing a head? Haa that would ruin your life, no I am not joking it seriously would.

    The demon glared, its fury was palpable. Then, as if auditioning for a magician''s act, it conjured a new arm out of thick flames. Yes, thick flames, the kind that could probably double as a lava lamp if you weren''t busy fighting for your life.

    "Hey! That''s cheating!" Liam shouted, pointing his sword accusingly. "I''m here working with one arm broken and is hanging like a curtain, and you''re just over there like, ''Oh, let me whip up a spare!'' What gives?"

    The demon, showing a complete lack of sportsmanship (and humor), charged at Liam, its fiery claws scraping the ground. The impact sent sharp rocks flying toward him like nature''s angry confetti. Liam dodged some with the grace of a dancer, and parried others with the flair of a swordsman, but a few still managed to leave scratches. Nothing major. Yet.

    That''s when fate decided it wasn''t done messing with Liam. A sharp rock, probably thinking it was the main character, sliced through Liam''s already broken left arm, leaving him with, well, no left arm.

    Excruciating pain shot through his body like an unwanted electric current. Liam opened his mouth to scream but bit down hard on his lip instead. Blood trickled down his chin, but his eyes stayed locked on the demon, whose creepy grin remained annoyingly intact.

    Then something shifted. Liam''s emotionless face transformed, a small, menacing smile curling on his lips. It wasn''t the kind of smile you want to see on someone who just lost a limb¡ª it was the kind that made even demons reconsider their life choices. His blue hair, now streaked with blood, began to glow faintly, and his golden eyes lit up like molten fire. The air in the cave grew heavy, charged with a sense of impending doom.

    "Thanks for cutting off the excess," Liam said with a cheerfulness that was somehow more unsettling than anger. "It was getting in the way of me beating you."

    The demon''s grin twitched¡ª was that a flicker of nervousness? Impossible! It started taunting Liam, as if provoking him to make the next move.

    "Oh, you''re gonna regret that," Liam muttered, swirling his sword in a move so dramatic it belonged in a swordsmanship manual under the chapter titled Intimidation Techniques 101. With a burst of speed, he closed the distance between them, his sword glowing bright blue as it slashed through the demon''s stomach.

    Momentum carried him to the opposite cave wall, where he crouched horizontally like gravity had taken a coffee break. Using the wall as a springboard, he launched himself at the demon again, slicing clean through one of its wings. Before it could react, Liam was off again, rebounding from wall to wall like a ping-pong ball of destruction.

    The demon flailed wildly, trying to keep up with Liam''s relentless attacks. Its head spun one way, then the other, desperate to catch a glimpse of its tormentor. But Liam was everywhere and nowhere, cutting through its defenses and leaving glowing blue gashes in his wake.

    Finally, the demon stopped its frantic attempts to track him and let out a low, eerie screech¡ª so quiet it was almost a whisper. Liam''s instincts screamed at him to stop. He didn''t know what the demon was up to, but he wasn''t about to take any chances.

    He halted mid-lunge, but it was too late. A sudden blast of force hurled him across the cave like a ragdoll in a windstorm. He careened toward a blood-streaked wall, bracing for impact.

    Just before he hit, a man in a white jacket appeared out of nowhere, catching him effortlessly. The man also held Liam''s severed arm as casually as someone might hold an umbrella.

    "That will be enough, young master," the man said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority¡ª and maybe a hint of exasperation, as if this wasn''t the first time he''d had to step in and clean up a mess.

 Chapter 137 Seraphiss attempted murderâ€” tch, he still lives

    Eleyn emerged from the room, treading silently but purposeful in her steps. Outside lay two figures in a restless motion. Alex, her husband, with furrowed brows and his face etched with worry.

    Gereon, her father-in-law, his features unreadable but his silence spoke enough about what his face did not show. The tension in the hallway was almost palpable and hung in the air, like the smoke from an extinguished lantern.

    "How is he?" Alex''s voice burst out the moment she appeared, revealing the storm of worry he had been trying to hold in. Beside him, Gereon said nothing, his steady gaze fixed on Eleyn''s face, though his eyes told of thoughts twisting inward, as if his worries were tangled and uncertain.

    Eleyn took a deep breath and curved the end of her lips up into a soft smile. "The arm is all right, I''ve reattached it." Her tone was warm like the first of sunrays after a long thunderstorm. "He would be fine, he''s my boy after all. Tell me, honey. How long did it take before he came limping back on one broken arm? He went on for over a year. How long will it be for Judge?"

    Her attempt at lightheartedness did the trick. The tension etched in Alex''s features melted into a smile. The softness of Gereon''s expression was just enough to allow a small, wry grin to draw across his mouth, but his eyes lost not one whit of their haunted edge, he looked like an overworked ghost who only knew how to grin.

    "I wouldn''t care to guess," Alex replied, letting out a small, relieved laugh. "But I suppose we''ll know. Whether it be sooner or later."

    Gereon crossed his arms and spoke in a tone that was as gruff as a tall brawny guy who knew how to hide his emotions well. "And here I was, going on about myself for naught. Liam''s not a lad you need to babysit, he''s tough¡ª stubborn as a mule, just like his old grandmother. He''ll pop back." He turned on his heel and took long strides toward his office, he still had work to do. "Work doesn''t wait, not even for my grandson''s antics," he muttered, the gruff voice covering the fondness he was supposed to convey.

    Eleyn watched him go, her smile softened. Gereon''s broad back, the back of a figure still imposing despite the years, seemed to carry a weight invisible to others¡ª a burden of love, worry, and duty accumulated over a lifetime.

    For a little moment, her smile seemed to drop against her will, threatening to give over its smile to the weight of those unreadable words. But it didn''t disappear entirely. Instead, it lingered, though tinged with the quiet sadness of someone who understood too well the price of such steadfast strength.

    She looked over at Alex, who continued to stare at the back room door that was shut after she exited, and his fingers tapped out a restless beat on his leg. "He''s going to be all right," she said again, softly this time so maybe the promise would hold good for her as well. Alex nodded sympathetically, and the rigidity eased somewhat but the tension remained.

    In the silence that followed, Eleyn gave herself a moment''s reprieve, letting her thoughts wander to Liam. Strong, stubborn Liam, who even hurt probably found a way to make a joke or two. And Judge, unpredictable and enigmatic, always somehow taking the simplest moments, making them profound or just plain chaotic.

    "Stubborn as a mule," she whispered, repeating Gereon''s words, though this time her smile came back, warmer and steadier. At least if nothing else, her family''s resilience was something she could always count on, even if it gave her more gray hairs than she''d care to admit.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Cough... cough... Judge clutched his throat like it had betrayed him, his face contorting into something between a grimace and a scream. Whatever liquid atrocity Seraphis had poured down his throat felt less like medicine and more like someone had distilled the concept of "bad decisions" into a single, horrifically bitter shot.

    "You sure this isn''t poison?" he croaked, gagging. "Because if it''s not, I''m suing whoever made it. Including you."

    Seraphis leaned back, her grin smug enough to warrant its own warning label. "Don''t be dramatic. It''s an ancient remedy for clarity."

    "Clarity?" Judge glared at her, still coughing. "Lady, this thing is so bitter it''s erasing the meaning of the word ''sweet'' from my vocabulary. Pretty sure I''ve achieved anti-clarity."

    "Ah," she said, as if deeply enlightened by his suffering, "then it''s working."

    Judge gave her a long, withering look, but curiosity got the better of him. "So, uh¡­ what exactly happened to me?"

    Seraphis tilted her head thoughtfully, adopting that all-too-familiar air of someone about to make something up on the spot. "Oh, you know, memory bread disorder or something." She waved her hand vaguely toward the ceiling. "Or memory muffin syndrome. Memory¡­ croissant catastrophe? I forget. I mean when do you NOT have any disorders, you are a walking red flag."

    Judge blinked, ignoring the last sentence. "You¡­ forgot... About MY memory problem?"

    "Hey," she shot back defensively, "it''s a complicated condition!"

    He rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn''t fall out. Classical you, he thought, his internal sarcasm practically oozing out. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Anyway," Seraphis said, clearly brushing off any guilt, "it has to do with your memories being sealed. I told you not to poke around in your past. Some things are better left¡­ unremembered."

    Her tone dropped ominously as she leaned in close, her voice suddenly as low and serious as a funeral director pitching casket upgrades. Or someone discussing nuclear launch codes. "And I mean it¡ª trying to remember could bring you harm. Not a paper cut or a stubbed toe. I''m talking real harm, like your brain exploding or your soul disintegrating. Fun stuff like that."

    Judge shuddered involuntarily, a cold chill prickling down his spine. But then, as quickly as it came, the fear melted away, replaced by his usual defiance. He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

    "Okay, okay," he muttered, "but what if I already, you know¡­ remembered something?"

    Seraphis''s eyes narrowed. "And by something, you mean¡­?"

    Judge grinned like a kid about to share the world''s worst idea. "A woman."

    She raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "A woman? Go on, then. Spill. Is she imaginary, or just unfortunate enough to know you?"

    Judge ignored the jab, diving straight into his train of thought. "Her name''s Clio. She kinda looks like my mom, but not quite."

    Seraphis frowned. "Uh¡­ elaborate?"

    "Okay, okay, so imagine my mom, but with a sharper nose, wider eyes, but also kinda closer together, same blue eyes but like a gradient of dark blue at top and light blue at the bottom¡ª"

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    "Stop. Stop right there," Seraphis interrupted, holding up both hands as if to physically shield herself from his words. "are you truly attempting to describe her as though are trying to create your own mechanized puppet? Not that you are intelligent enough to create one anyway."

    "Hey, you wanted details!" Judge said defensively. "Her lips are thinner, her ears¡ª"

    "Nope, nope, I regret asking," Seraphis cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I need no detailed portrait of her, thank you¡ª her image is quite firmly etched in my mind already! Next question¡ª were you two close? Or was this just one of those creepy ''I''ve seen her in my dreams'' things?"

    Judge tilted his head thoughtfully. "Honestly? I don''t know. I think she might''ve been important. And, uh, probably the one who sealed my memories in the first place."

    "Wow," Seraphis deadpanned, leaning back. "Sounds like a keeper."

    Judge shrugged. "If she did seal my memories, she didn''t do a great job. I''m already remembering stuff." He grinned again, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Y''know, if I were sealing someone''s memories, I''d at least use industrial-grade sealing techniques. Maybe some duct tape."

    "Yeah, because that''s what memory magic is missing," Seraphis muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Duct tape."

    "Hey, don''t knock it till you''ve tried it," Judge quipped.

    Seraphis stared at him for a moment, then sighed deeply, as if reconsidering all of her life choices that had led to this conversation. "Okay, listen, just¡ª don''t try too hard to remember. You''ll regret it."

    "I''m already regretting this conversation," Judge shot back with a grin.

    "Funny," Seraphis said dryly. "I''m regretting letting you live."

    They sat in silence for a moment, the air buzzing with their usual brand of chaotic energy. Finally, Judge leaned back, rubbing his chin like a wise philosopher.

    "You know," he mused, "if Clio really did seal my memories, maybe I should find her and thank her for at least giving me something to talk about."

    Seraphis gave him a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "Or you could just not."

    "Where''s the fun in that?" Judge grinned.

    "Nowhere," Seraphis muttered under her breath. "Absolutely nowhere."

 Chapter 138 And she said, May thou walk upon the waters, and lo, he walked

    "DAD!" Alex barreled into Gereon''s office like a man who had just discovered free snacks at a fancy party. The servant¡ª bless their soul¡ªwalked with heavy and wobbling legs and with a small stack of papers like a circus act before giving Alex a polite nod and making a swift exit, probably hoping to avoid whatever chaos was about to unfold.

    Gereon, ever the calm patriarch, didn''t even flinch. He just kept scribbling away on his parchment like it owed him rent. Without glancing up, he muttered, "What is it, Alex? As you can see, I''m knee-deep in this paperwork, so if it''s not on fire or a siege, make it snappy."

    Alex, unfazed by his father''s lack of enthusiasm, strolled further in, already launching into his pitch like he was trying to sell him a vacation package. "So, when are we hunting down that self-important moron who thinks he killed Amber?" His tone was so calm it could''ve been mistaken for a dinner invitation¡ª except for, you know, the murderous undertone.

    That got Gereon''s attention. The quill froze mid-sentence, and he looked up slowly, his expression saying, You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention. "I was planning to handle that myself," Gereon said, emphasizing his superiority like a teacher explaining basic math to a student who had already flunked three times.

    "But as you can see, I''m rather busy." With the dramatic flair only a man of his age could pull off, he tucked his quill away inside the ink bottle, moved the paper he was writing on from the slanted board to a neat stack nearby, and stood up with the air of a man who had just solved the world''s biggest problem. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "So," Alex said, plopping down on the cyan couch like a tired cat, "can I do it, then? You know, take the guy out, make it look stylish?" His grin was the kind that usually preceded bad decisions and long apologies.

    "No," Gereon shot back, sitting down across from him with the energy of someone ready to crush his hopes. "I''ll handle it myself¡ª end of this year."

    "Wait, what?!" Alex nearly choked on his indignation. "That''s, like, two months away! He could slip off our watch by then, grow a mustache, change his name, maybe even open a bakery or something!"

    Gereon shook his head with a mix of fatherly patience and can-you-not energy. "Two reasons why it would be okay to do it at the end of the month." He held up two fingers like a professor delivering a lecture to a particularly dense student. "One, Amber will have safely reached her school by then, and two¡ª you''re forgetting your wife."

    Alex leaned back, squinting. "What does Eleyn have to do with¡ª"

    "She already got his blood, genius," Gereon interrupted with a smirk so smug it could''ve had its own address. "Through those guards who told him about our house. So, no, he''s not shaking off anything¡ª not unless he''s also a wizard with an invisibility cloak that blocks off ritualistic tracking."

    Alex sighed like a teenager who''d just been told no to borrowing the car. He snagged one of Gereon''s cigars, earning an arched brow but no protest. Lighting it with the fire he created by snapping, he exhaled a puff of smoke and tried to sound cool. "Fine. So, what do I do now? Because, spoiler alert, the Church of Night is up to some serious nonsense. I think I should dig deeper."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "Oh?"

    Alex''s grin stretched wider, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Yep. Questioned a fanatic''s soul after killing him¡ª real talkative for a dead guy." He puffed on the cigar, savoring the moment like he''d just revealed the plot twist in a murder mystery. "And let me tell you, Dad, I found some very interesting info."

    Gereon leaned forward slightly, his face a mix of concern and exasperation. "Of course you did. And let me guess¡ª you plan to act on it in the most reckless way possible?"

    Alex shrugged, smirking like the cat that ate the canary. "What can I say? It''s a family tradition."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    BOOM!

    A giant rock burst into a spectacular shower of pebbles, gravel, and a weird puff of dust that made the moment oddly dramatic, like Judge had just been born from the very earth itself. Emerging from the debris with a flair no one had asked for, Judge wielded two gleaming twin blades connected by a chain. And what was he doing with them? Spinning them wildly like nunchucks in a way that screamed, I saw this in a movie once, and now I''m unstoppable.

    Perched in a nearby tree, sipping from a suspiciously unlabeled bottle, Seraphis casually shouted down, "Head towards the water, Judge! And try not to embarrass me this time. Remember what I taught you¡ª walk on the water, not sink like a bag of rocks!"

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    Judge rolled his eyes so hard it''s a wonder they didn''t fall out of his head. Sure, he''d been training for weeks with the memory of swords that he remembered and could now wield swords like an action hero at the climax of a blockbuster, but his movements were... let''s just say they had the finesse of a cat chasing a laser pointer. Not graceful, but extremely effective.

    Behind him, a demon¡ª minus one tail and a leg, because Judge had been busy¡ª staggered forward in a rage. Its grotesque grin had melted into a scowl that screamed, This isn''t over, you punk! The demon lobbed blood-red spheres of fiery substance at him relentlessly, as if it could do it all day long. It was like a supernatural dodgeball game Judge had zero interest in playing.

    But Judge wasn''t having it. Spinning his blades faster than a toddler hopped up on sugar trying to swing glowsticks, he cut through the spheres midair, sending tiny explosions all around. Trees, the ground, even some innocent rocks¡ª none were safe from his destructive display. It was less a fight and more an accidental landscaping service.

    "Don''t stop spinning those swords!" Seraphis yelled again, taking a swig from her bottle. "You stop for one second, and it''s game over! And no, I''m not saving you this time!"

    "Yeah, thanks for the pep talk!" Judge shouted back, narrowly dodging another sphere that singed the edge of his coat. He couldn''t turn his back on the demon, obviously. Rule number one of fighting a raging demon: never give it a free hit. Rule number two: don''t die.

    Finally, they both reached the lake. Judge stared at the water''s surface with the enthusiasm of someone about to attempt a very dumb idea. Seraphis'' voice echoed in his mind, "You''ll never learn to walk on water if you don''t try under pressure. And if you fail... well, you''ll get wet, and the demon will probably kill you. No big deal!" What a motivational speaker, he was almost in tears.

    "Okay, here goes nothing," Judge muttered. He ran ether through his legs and planted one foot on the water''s surface, which obviously held. He grinned. "I''m doing it!" Then the second foot touched, and he immediately wobbled like a baby deer on ice.

    Meanwhile, the demon, unfazed by the spectacle, launched another volley of those glowing red orbs. "Oh, come on!" Judge groaned, zig-zagging across the lake''s surface to dodge them. It looked impressive until you realized he was flailing like someone trying not to slip on a wet floor.

    The demon wasn''t giving up either, hurling more and more spheres with the precision of a very angry pitcher. Judge, determined not to get obliterated, slashed through them, making mini firework shows with each hit. Explosions scattered water everywhere, soaking his clothes and¡ªof course¡ªhis top hat, which he''d been very proud of keeping dry until now.

    Judge gritted his teeth. He could''ve finished this fight five minutes ago if not for his master''s brilliant idea to make this a training session. "Fight the enemy on water," Seraphis had said, "It''ll be good practice." Easy for her to say; she wasn''t the one dodging demon death balls while playing Sword Ninja: Lake Edition.

    Finally, Judge stopped spinning his blades and darted to the side, dashing towards the demon in a zig-zag motion that looked both calculated and a little like he''d forgotten how to run straight. The demon hurled even more spheres, but Judge sliced through them mid-charge.

    "Keep going, Judge!" Seraphis cheered from his tree perch. "You''re almost not terrible!"

    "Oh, shut up!" Judge snapped, charging forward with renewed determination. He didn''t know if he''d win this fight or if he''d end up drenched and demon-fried, but one thing was certain¡ª this lake was never going to look the same again.

    With a deep breath, Judge stopped his advance, leaned forward slightly, let go of the handles of his blades, and held the chain. The swords left his hand and went forward due to inertia.

    He injected ether into the blade in order to activate the principle of strengthening. Then, he slammed down the twin blades with all his might.

 Chapter 139 Bow Down, Sit Down, Now Spill the Teaâ€” no not that Tea

    The peaceful, glass-like surface of the lake exploded in a cataclysmic tantrum as Judge smacked it with his thin twin blades like he was trying to spank the water for some deep-seated grievance. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Despite their dainty appearance, the strengthening principle gave those blades the bite of an angry buzzsaw on a caffeine binge.

    Water shot skyward, not just like a geyser but like a whole pack of geysers on a group chat hyping each other up. Blinding sprays of liquid chaos hit the demon, Judge, and, heck, even Seraphis, who was chilling up in her favorite tree perch like a smug cat.

    With a flash of drama straight out of a low-budget fantasy film, light filtered through the aquatic mayhem, painting Judge in an ethereal blue glow.

    His ever-creepy smile widened to Joker-like proportions, and his eyes clouded over, going full "storm''s-a-brewing."

    Enter the perks of being a Cloud Strider. These bad boys weren''t just aesthetic¡ª they were like having X-ray vision, but only for stuff light could pierce through. Water? No problem. Fog? Child''s play. Mystery stew in your suspicious tavern meal? Unclear.

    (A/N: For the record, no, Judge couldn''t see through clothes. Light doesn''t go through people, my dudes. Unless you''re some weird jellyfish-human hybrid, and in that case, congratulations, you''re now canon in Eldris. But in case you are really talking about science, sufficient light needs to pass through the objects.)

    Back to the action. The demon, clearly unprepared for Judge''s sudden glow-up, launched a chaotic barrage of red energy orbs at Judge''s initial position. These things weren''t fireballs¡ª they were more like spicy meatballs of death.

    But Judge had already bailed on his previous position, leaving the demon looking like someone trying to swat a fly that had moved on five minutes ago.

    Meanwhile, Judge''s upgraded peepers highlighted two glowing silhouettes through the watery veil. Demon? Check. Seraphis? Double-check, perched and whistling her judgmental tune like some omnipotent referee waiting for the match to end.

    Judge zoomed in on the demon, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, look, concrete skin. Again. What is it with demons and the whole ''living brick wall'' aesthetic? Can''t one of you just be squishy and easy to stab for once?" he muttered to himself, already spinning his blades in a move that would make any ninja weeb blush.

    With the grace of a drunk ballerina and the flair of a guy who just watched too much anime, Judge gripped one blade''s tip with his fingers and swung it wildly.

    Somewhere in the multiverse, a certain flashy white-haired swordsman with three wives and kills demons might have shed a single tear of pride.

    The other blade followed, slicing through the water and demon alike with unnerving precision. Cue dramatic geyser collapse and demon disassembly. Its body fell apart like a poorly made meatloaf, spilling black, oily blood that spread across the lake''s surface in swirls of liquid goth.

    From the shore, a slow, sarcastic clap echoed.

    Clap¡­ Clap¡­ Clap!

    Seraphis, now back in her prime tree-perching position, smirked down at him. Not a drop of water dared to mar her flawless red jacket, which was annoying because Judge was drenched like a wet sponge that got dunked in a bucket for too long.

    "Nice work," she called, her voice dripping with amusement. "Though next time, maybe don''t take five minutes to slice something that barely fought back."

    Judge sighed, flicking the black gunk off his blades with a flourish. "Oh, sure. I''ll just write ''Be dead faster'' on the next demon''s to-do list, master. I''m sure they''ll comply."

    Her smirk widened. "If they don''t, I''ll be sure to grade your performance. D-minus for drama, C-plus for effort."

    Judge rolled his eyes. "And what''s the grade for saving your perch-loving body, huh?"

    "Solid B," she replied breezily. "But only because you didn''t mess up my jacket."

    Judge rolled his eyes again, but this time he did it so hard it was a wonder they didn''t pop out and roll down the lakeshore. "Gee, thanks for the solid B," he said, sounding about as enthusiastic as a guy being forced to attend his ex''s wedding.

    "You''re welcome," Seraphis replied, her voice so sugary sweet it could''ve caused cavities. It was the kind of tone that screamed ''I just googled: How to passive-aggressively make someone''s life miserable.''

    "Now, shall we get out of this soggy mess?" She dusted off an imaginary speck of dirt from her jacket, even though she was practically radiating "untouchable."

    Judge raised an eyebrow, flicking some demon blood off his boots. "Where to?"

    Seraphis cocked her head, inspecting him like a mildly interesting museum exhibit. "As much as it pains me to admit," she said, dramatically clutching her chest like she was in some soap opera, "you''ve gotten¡­ marginally better at wielding those swords."

    Judge smirked, sliding the twin blades into some void of mystery that could''ve been a magical pocket, a tiny interdimensional suitcase, or just vibes. "Oh? Do I sense¡­ praise?"

    "Don''t push it," she snapped, crossing her arms. "And anyway, we''ve got to do our next objective."

    Judge strapped his pistols tighter on his waist, giving her a sideways glance. "Which is?"

    "We''re going to find my daughter," she said, her voice softer than usual. A faint smile tugged at her lips, but it was the kind of smile you''d wear when trying to convince someone you''re fine while actively imploding inside.

    Judge groaned, running a hand through his dripping hair. "Ugh, can I at least kill one bastard before December hits? Like, just one. It''s a personal goal at this point."

    Seraphis tapped her chin, mimicking his exaggerated thinking pose. "Hmm. Which bastard are we talking about? You''ve got a whole list."

    He mimicked her right back, stroking an imaginary beard like he was auditioning for the World''s Worst Philosopher. "Oh, you know. That assassin guy who thinks he killed my sister."

    "Oh, that guy!" Seraphis perked up, her usual smirk returning with full smug glory. "Yeah, I remember. Alright, fine. Let''s deal with him first. But then it''s Selena time, you got that?"

    Judge flashed her a grin that, for once, was less serial killer and more cheeky troublemaker. "Thanks, Master. But, uh¡­ small detour first. Gotta hit the meeting."

    Seraphis''s face dropped faster than a rock in a pond. "The meeting again? Seriously? What are they even meeting about now¡ª how to make chairs comfier? Toasters more toast-efficient?"

    "I''ll be back soon," Judge said, winking. And before she could launch into her next round of complaints, he vanished, leaving only a damp patch of grass and an increasingly annoyed Seraphis.

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    "Stupid meetings," she muttered, kicking at the ground like a petulant child. "He better not come back with another toaster."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "We greet god''s envoy!" The three sins and one virtue practically folded themselves in half bowing to Judge, like overly dramatic theater kids auditioning for the role of "humble servant #1." Then they flopped into their seats with all the finesse of a sack of potatoes being dumped on a couch.

    Judge, rocking his iconic red cloak and that grinning mask that screamed "I''m totally fine, but also maybe a bit murdery," gave them all a once-over. His gaze was pure dad-energy, like he was about to ask why the lights were still on in the empty hallway. "Give me the records," he said, voice so deadpan it could have flatlined.

    "Yes, master," they all chimed in, as if they''d rehearsed for weeks. Not a single one moved. Why would they? They just sent him the files directly into his brain like it was some kind of mystical Wi-Fi transfer. Judge didn''t even blink; he was already diving into the mental pile of data they''d just dumped on him.

    First on the docket? The first prince''s weekly routine. Riveting stuff, really¡ª if you found watching paint dry exciting. Thanks to his improved Enhanced Cognition (which actually got better with use), Judge could zoom through it without frying his brain like he used to. Back in the day, this would''ve left him curled up in the corner muttering about "too many details" and "why does the prince even wake up that early?"

    Next, he flicked through the highlight reel of his siblings'' week. His brother, his sister, and, oh boy, enough mortal drama to make a soap opera writer weep tears of envy. Then came the grand finale: Lucifer''s recordings. Now this was where things got spicy.

    Apparently, the assassin heads had made some groundbreaking progress on the case of "Who Tried to Murder Judge''s Sister?" Their latest jaw-dropping revelation? The assassin could shape-shift into other people.

    Judge almost facepalmed. Oh, wow, no way, shape-shifting? Groundbreaking discovery, folks. I only figured that out ages ago while yawning. Are you guys actually solving this, or just writing the assassin''s autobiography?

    But then, bam¡ª something actually useful. The guy with the triangular hat¡ª you know, the one Judge and his master had run into during that fun forest detour¡ª was making moves. Apparently, he had sent a letter to Noel Rivet, giving the whole "I''m coming to town, prepare the trumpets" vibe.

    The letter was encoded after writing, giving Judge plenty of time to look at its contents.

    Judge''s brain kicked into overdrive. If he played this right, he could squeeze some serious benefits out of this. Or at least score some amusement, which was basically the same thing in his book. Behind that ever-present grin of his mask, Judge was already scheming. Anyone watching would have immediately thought, "Yeah, I''m just gonna quietly step away and hope he''s too busy plotting to notice me."

 Chapter 140 Oh hi! Dont mind me, Just here to silence you

    Seraphis was hammering her desk, and by hammering, it was the sort of banging that made her ink pot jiggle like it was debating whether to stay or make a run for it. Her disciple¡ª clearly operating on some chaotic wavelength¡ª had left her something to puzzle over.

    And boy, did it need puzzling. The principle he had dumped in her unsuspecting hands was, frankly, a bizarre piece of work. It had more unfinished plots than a ten-season series that got canceled mid-run. But¡ª against all odds¡ª it somehow worked. Sort of. Like a rickety contraption that technically didn''t break apart¡­ yet.

    "Nihility, was it?" she muttered, squinting at the parchment like it owed her money. Judge, in his usual cryptic manner (She still wonders where he got that cryptic habit from), had said the principle was created by some genius who, in their later years, had gone completely bananas.

    The diary he''d stumbled upon apparently painted a vivid picture: the poor guy''s descent into madness was scribbled between diagrams, doodles of cats, and what Judge swore was a recipe for exploding soup.

    Of course, Judge, being Judge, had bought into the story. He was utterly convinced the principle was complete. That is, until he finally started grasping how principles actually worked. And let''s just say, once the realization hit, it was like watching someone realize they''ve been wearing their shirt backward all day.

    Seraphis, now fully invested in dissecting this cosmic joke of a principle, grabbed her pen like it was a sword and declared war on the parchment. "Alright, first off, this whole section? Garbage. Unstable garbage. Who writes this? A poet on caffeine? No, I should not insult poets." She slashed through a paragraph so long and convoluted it could''ve doubled as a legal disclaimer.

    Satisfied with her initial attack, she flicked the ruined page aside with the flair of a diva tossing her scarf. Then came the real fun. With a fresh sheet of paper and a gleam in her eye that screamed mad scientist vibes, she began jotting down what could generously be called "ideas." These ideas ranged from half-formed sentences to chaotic doodles that could''ve been anything from theoretical diagrams to avant-garde art.

    Not done yet, she grabbed yet another sheet¡ª her "theory" paper. This one was special. It was where she scribbled the big, wild, unhinged stuff. Circles, arrows, question marks, and a suspicious number of exclamation points filled the page. At some point, she paused, added a frowny face, and muttered, "Yep, that sums it up." when in fact, she had barely scratched the surface.

    Her desk? Absolute battlefield vibes now. Crumpled papers littered the surface like fallen soldiers. She leaned back in her chair, stretched with a groan, and smirked. "If this principle doesn''t kill me, the sheer comedy of this mess might."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Victor, the supposed mastermind of the assassin''s guild¡ª a man who fancied himself as a mix of philosopher, schemer, and fashion icon with that weird triangular hat¡ª was currently doing something he despised¡ª riding in a carriage over a road that felt more like a collection of holes held together by dirt.

    It wasn''t enough that the horses pulling the thing were spectral and cool (a perk of being in his line of work), but the paved road (Yes it was paved, can you believe that?) still managed to ruin the vibe with every bone-rattling bump.

    Who even let roads get this bad? Did the city council just collectively decide, "You know what, assassins can deal with potholes. They''re trained for it"?

    Victor leaned against the carriage window, pretending to enjoy the scenery. Trees zipped past in a way that would''ve been soothing if he wasn''t constantly jolted by every minor pebble the wheels hit.

    Eventually, the trees thinned out, giving way to an expanse of rolling hills and flowers in colors so vibrant it was like nature was showing off.

    "Look at me!" the flowers screamed. "Aren''t I pretty? Forget your rotting people problems!" Victor glared at them. He didn''t do pretty. Pretty was for poets and birdwatchers, not for a guy who could make bread mold look like a tactical weapon.

    Still, he couldn''t entirely focus on the flowers, as distracting as they were. He had bigger problems.

    The biggest of which was his current destination: a meeting with Noel, the shapeshifter extraordinaire and, frankly, the wild card of his assassin squad.

    Noel was loyal to Victor and Master Thadd, but loyalty from a person who controls shadows came with about as much reassurance as a smile from a shark. You never really knew what they were thinking¡ª or who they were pretending to be.

    And don''t even get started on Noel''s habit of disappearing mid-conversation. One minute he''d be there, nodding politely, and the next, he''d be near a coat rack. A coat rack!

    Victor ran a hand through his hair, then adjusted his hat, the triangular brim casting a dramatic shadow over his eyes. He tried to calm himself down by going over the details of the mission.

    They were supposed to meet in a room rebooked for a week later at some no-name hotel (Room 2098, because assassins apparently needed numbers so specific they could double as lottery tickets, and the hotel''s name was Viarra... yeah).

    Noel would be there first¡ª standard protocol to let the shadow domain creator scope out any funny business. Victor would arrive shortly after, armed with the most ridiculous knock pattern anyone had ever devised.

    Three quick knocks. One heavy knock in between them right after the second knock. Two heavy knocks. Four light taps.

    And then the piece de resistance: calling out, "Stern, it is me, Selor." Who came up with this stuff? (spoiler: it was Victor). Noel probably thought it was hilarious. Victor, meanwhile, thought it made him sound like an actor in a bad play.

    (A/N: the piece de resistance is just a saying in French, meaning the most important feature)

    And the password exchange? Oh, that was even worse. Once inside, Noel was supposed to say, "What did you find at the night illuminated by the moon?" To which Victor would reply¡ª brace yourself¡ª "You fell in love with a strong man, and you married that guy. I can''t believe you''re gay. But I support all kinds of love, my friend."

    Who writes this stuff? (Again, it was solely made by Victor). Victor had half a mind to skip the line altogether, but Noel would probably see that as an assassination-worthy offense. Assassins were weirdly picky about their inside jokes.

    Speaking of which, that line wasn''t even true! Noel didn''t marry a man; his wife, Isadora Rivet, was a woman. A real, flesh-and-blood woman with no shapeshifting tendencies whatsoever.

    But apparently, humor was a vital part of assassin communication. Nothing said "trustworthy" like awkwardly joking about someone''s love life while a sword was pointed at your throat.

    Because, yes, Noel''s follow-up to the password exchange was to draw a blade and press it within an inch of Victor''s neck. If Victor didn''t immediately drop to his knees and beg for mercy like some bad street performer, the deal was off. Why couldn''t they just shake hands like normal people?

    The carriage jolted again, snapping Victor out of his thoughts. Something felt¡­ odd. The air had shifted, or was it the ether, or maybe the flowers were plotting something sinister.

    He leaned out the window, half-expecting to see a bird of prey swooping in to deliver a message. Instead, he got a big fat nothing¡ª just more hills, more flowers, and an unsettling silence.

    And then, out of absolutely nowhere, he wasn''t alone. Across from him, where no one had been moments before, a man now sat.

    Not just any man¡ª a man with white hair, dressed in a black cloak with a white mask so unnervingly cheerful it looked like it had been designed to haunt children''s dreams.

    The mask had dark, hollow eyes and a grin that practically screamed, "I know all your secrets, and I''ve got time to ruin your day."

    Victor''s heart skipped several beats, each one feeling like it might be his last. Who was this guy? How did he get here? And why did he have the aura of someone who could make grown men cry for fun?

    The man leaned back, one arm propped casually on the carriage window, like he had all the time in the world. His voice, when he spoke, was smooth but cold enough to send shivers down Victor''s spine.

    "Oh¡­ you seem worried," the man said, his words dripping with amusement. "May I know what you''re thinking? If it''s about escaping, don''t bother. I''m only here to talk."

    Victor''s mouth went dry. "Who are you?" he asked, clutching his triangular hat like it was a security blanket. His instincts screamed at him to do something¡ª anything, maybe take out that damn gun in his jacket¡ª but his brain had officially checked out, probably hiding under a metaphorical bed somewhere. Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

    The man tilted his head, the motion was both curious and predatory. "Ah! Apologies for the discourtesy. Let me properly introduce myself," he said, pausing just long enough to make Victor sweat. "You may call me¡­ Lucifer."

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 Chapter 141 A dramatic kowtow that everyone regretted doing

    "Oh! I''m so sorry, Noel. Truly, from the deepest pits of my soul, I didn''t mean to insult your wife like that¡­" Victor dropped to the floor in a grand kowtow, pressing his forehead to the ground with the energy of a man auditioning for Desperate Idiot in Distress. The time was exactly 3:03 pm, and the entire hotel room seemed to hold its breath, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a butter knife.

    Noel stared down at Victor with the calm disdain of a parent watching their toddler throw a tantrum in public. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know, we agreed on this ridiculous code, and yet seeing you grovel like that¡­ I regret everything."

    Victor, still on the floor, peeked up with a mischievous grin. "Regret? Oh no, my dear Noel. Regret is realizing your own genius in action! Look at us¡ª alive, un-stabbed, and shapeshifter-free. You''re welcome." Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire

    "You''re five seconds away from being stabbed, shapeshifter or not," Noel muttered, rubbing his temple. He gestured toward the closed door. "And next time, just knock. I was literally right here. We agreed on the knocks, too."

    Victor sprang to his feet with surprising agility, brushing dust off his jacket as if his dignity could be salvaged. "Oh, come on, Noel. You''d have opened the door for a knock? Really? Don''t lie to me. You''d have spent five minutes debating whether it was me or a shapeshifter and then blamed the delay on existential dread."

    "That''s not¡ª " Noel began, only to stop, realizing Victor wasn''t entirely wrong. He crossed his arms. "Sometimes I think your loose bolts have loose bolts, Master Victor."

    Victor gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. "Loose bolts? Moi? Noel, you wound me. Just because I come up with the brilliant plan and you execute it flawlessly doesn''t mean I''m the crazy one."

    "Flawlessly?" Noel''s eyes flicked to the knife he''d nearly drawn when Victor barged in. "You realize I was this close to testing how much blood you can lose before passing out, right?"

    Victor plopped into a chair, waving dismissively. "Details, details. Besides, if a shapeshifter had tried this, you''d have been prepared. Admit it¡ª my code was foolproof!"

    Noel leaned against the table, glaring. "Your foolproof code involved me trusting you to remember to check the clock, perform an exact sequence of knocks, and then grovel like a lunatic. You''re lucky I didn''t think you were an idiot and stab you anyway."

    Victor chuckled. "Oh, Noel. That''s the beauty of it. If I were a shapeshifter, you''d have wanted to stab me, and the plan would''ve worked perfectly."

    "Or," Noel said dryly, "I''d have stabbed you just because you''re you."

    Victor grinned. "And you wonder why I don''t have a wife."

    Noel rolled his eyes and grabbed a glass from the nearby counter, pouring himself a generous helping of malt beer. "Speaking of plans, what''s so important that you dragged me into this circus act?"

    Victor''s playful demeanor faded as he leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You''ve heard about one of our gathering branches being destroyed, right?"

    Noel nodded, his expression sobering. "Yeah. Same branch where I picked up that commission. Oddly enough"

    Victor swirled his drink, staring into it as if it held answers. "We confirmed it wasn''t random. The enemy''s connected to the commissioner. Someone''s tying up loose ends."

    Noel downed his drink in one gulp, his brows furrowing. "To cover their tracks?"

    "Partly, but there''s more. The intermediary, Lester, still had his head intact when we found him... Although it had been long separated from the body."

    Noel raised an eyebrow. "... What a weirdly specific detail."

    Victor leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Pellen read his memories. The commissioner was a shapeshifter, but not just any shapeshifter. This one had divine power."

    Noel froze, his glass halfway to the table. His violet eyes glinted faintly as he processed the information. "Divine power? You''re sure?"

    Victor nodded grimly. "Lester recognized it because he''d been exposed to yours before."

    Noel stared at him, his thoughts racing. Divine power wasn''t just rare¡ª it was dangerous. For him, it was an anomaly, something he''d barely learned to control. The shadow domain principle that had changed his life¡ª and his eyes¡ª had brought both power and chaos.

    Victor interrupted his thoughts, his tone unusually hesitant. "Noel, this is going to get messy. I can''t promise your safety, but I still ask. Are you going to work for me?"

    Noel smirked, setting his glass down with a faint clink. "Victor, I married someone who once threw a skillet at me for forgetting our anniversary. Do you think I care about safety?"

    Victor laughed, his tension easing slightly. "Fair point. You really do have a death wish."

    "No," Noel replied, raising an empty glass as if in a toast. "I just have priorities. And right now, they involve not letting you get yourself killed before this divine shapeshifter does."

    "So does that mean you agree?"

    Noel nodded in response, "Yes."

    Victor grinned and took out a plain white mask with a smiley face, "Then wear this, it has something that would help master greatly." He then stood up. "Two days. The Capital. Be ready."

    "As always," Noel said, giving a mock bow. "Try not to trip over your own genius on the way out."

    Victor opened the door, turning back with a final grin. "You''d miss me if I did."

    Noel raised an eyebrow, but his faint smirk betrayed him. "Only because I''d have to come up with a better plan without you."

    Victor''s laugh echoed down the hallway as he vanished. Noel sighed, pouring himself another drink. "Two days¡­" he muttered, his violet eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "Just enough time to regret everything. Perfect."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Well, Master. How is it?" Judge asked, stepping out of his personal dimension, his crimson cloak swishing dramatically like he was auditioning for the lead role in a theater production no one asked for.

    Seraphis barely glanced up, her finger pointing toward the chaotic jungle of papers strewn across the table. "I adjusted a bit here and there."

    Judge squinted at the mess. "Here and there? Where exactly? It looks like someone detonated a library in here."

    Seraphis didn''t miss a beat. "Somewhere in the pile. The important bits are probably not on fire, so that''s progress."

    Judge crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "As much as it pains me to admit this," he said, with the reluctant tone of someone forced to compliment broccoli, "you might be a little¡­ uh¡­" He paused, fumbling for the right word. "Manageable?"

    "Manageable?" Seraphis repeated, raising an eyebrow. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge coughed, suddenly realizing he''d wandered into dangerous territory. "I meant reliable. Reliable, Master."

    Seraphis smirked, clearly amused. "Good save, kid. Barely." She turned back to the paper battlefield. "Anyway, this scientist? Absolute genius. The principle he developed is so delicate and complex, yet easy to process. And you said he went mad in his later years? I think I know why."

    "Do you want to know something even more interesting about the guy who created this?" Judge asked with the smugness of someone holding a juicy secret.

    Seraphis rolled her eyes, heading for the door. "Hold that thought. I''m getting refreshments. Tea? Macarons? Or are you one of those people who drinks water like it''s a personality trait?"

    "Tea," Judge replied, then, after a pause, added reluctantly, "¡­Please."

    Seraphis nodded and left, leaving Judge to confront the chaos. He surveyed the room with the solemn air of someone witnessing a minor disaster. Papers were everywhere¡ª on the table, the floor, and somehow, wedged into the chandelier. A balled-up note missed the waste bin by several tragic feet, lying there as a testament to a throw that gave up halfway.

    Despite the mess, Judge felt a strange warmth settle over him. Maybe it was seeing his master, whose life had been consumed by the search for her daughter, finally throw herself into something else¡ª even if "throw" was the operative word in this paper-strewn disaster.

    Unable to resist, he followed her to the kitchen, where she was already bustling about.

    "Took you long enough," Seraphis muttered without turning around. "What was that ''interesting'' thing you were about to spill?"

    Judge slid into a chair with all the grace of a collapsing tower. "It''s not confirmed," he began, his tone conspiratorial, "but it''s definitely something to think about. I have a feeling¡ª just a hunch, really¡ª that the person who kidnapped your daughter¡­" He paused for dramatic effect, because why not? "¡­might be the daughter of the guy who created the nihility principle."

    Seraphis stopped mid-tea-pour, her hand hovering over the cup. "Excuse me?"

    "You heard me," Judge said, leaning back like he''d just delivered the punchline to a really good joke. "It''s a wild theory, but think about it¡ª what better way to use her father''s work than to¡­ you know¡­ mess with yours?"

    Seraphis set the teapot down with a clink, her expression unreadable. Then, after a long moment, she smirked. "If that''s true, I''m going to need more than macarons to get through this."

    "Same," Judge said, reaching for a macaron. "But hey, at least your mess of a life keeps things interesting."

    She threw a kitchen towel at him. "Don''t push your luck."

    Judge caught it with a grin, savoring the macaron in his other hand. For all the chaos¡ª literal and figurative¡ª this was his other home, a place with his trusted master.

    Trust...

 Chapter 142 A family drama gone wrong... horribly wrong

    Isadora Rivet, born Isadora Saight, was a child of humble beginnings, the eldest of four siblings in a family that knew nothing of wealth or excess.

    With three older siblings¡ª two sisters and a brother¡ª she learned quickly how to stretch a smile over an empty belly, how to find sunlight on even the grayest of days. Life wasn''t kind to them, but her heart made room for joy in the smallest, simplest moments.

    Her father, Derin Saight, worked tirelessly as a farmer, his hands calloused and his back bent under the weight of providing. Isadora remembered how he''d return from the fields at dusk, his shirt soaked in sweat, yet his face lit up when he saw them running toward him. Her mother, a tailor with more skill than customers, pieced together fabric scraps into dresses for her daughters and patched up clothes that were too worn to save. The Saights didn''t have much, but they had each other. That was enough¡ª until it wasn''t.

    Isadora''s childhood wasn''t filled with laughter echoing across open meadows or carefree days spent chasing butterflies. There was always work to be done. She and her sisters often sat cross-legged on the floor beside their mother, sorting buttons or threading needles, while her brother trudged out to the fields to help their father. Yet, in between the work, there were shards of happiness.

    She remembered the first time her brother boosted her up into the gnarled branches of the old willow tree behind their house. She had felt like she could touch the sky, her laughter bubbling up as he climbed up beside her. Another time, her mother had guided her tiny fingers over a scrap of cloth, teaching her to embroider a flower. The fabric was rough, and her stitches wobbly, but her mother smiled as if Isadora had sewn a masterpiece.

    One day, she had fallen from that same tree, her knee scraped raw against the dirt. Her sister, the younger but more fearless one, had rushed to her side. "Hold still," her sister had said, her small hands trembling as she tied a handkerchief around the wound. Isadora hadn''t cried¡ª not from the pain, at least¡ª but from the sight of that handkerchief. It was embroidered with a flower her sister had made, a Lunaflame, its petals a vivid blue with delicate pink edges and a fiery orange center.

    "I stitched after seeing a real flower," her sister had whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "It grows deep in the caves, and it only blooms under a full moon. Next time, I''ll show you where to find it."

    And she did. They snuck out together on the night of the full moon, their feet bare and their breaths hushed. The cave was cold and damp, but the sight of the Lunaflame was worth it. Isadora couldn''t believe something so beautiful could exist in a world that so often felt bleak.

    She promised herself to never forget that moment.

    The second visit came a month later, under another full moon. This time, her sister held her hand tighter as they wandered deeper into the cave, the flowers glowing faintly in the moonlight. But when they emerged, the air smelled wrong¡ª thick, acrid, like something had burned past recognition.

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    Smoke. It rose in heavy plumes above the village, spiraling toward the night sky, where the blue moon seemed to watch silently. Isadora''s heart pounded as they ran back, their breaths uneven and sharp in the cool air. The first thing she saw was a house consumed by flames, the fire leaping from roof to roof as if eager to devour everything.

    The streets were unrecognizable, a patchwork of crimson and ash. Bodies¡ª people she had known her whole life¡ª lay sprawled in grotesque silence, their faces frozen in horror. Her father''s fields, once so full of life, were charred black. Her mother''s sewing table, where so many memories had been stitched together, was nothing but splinters.

    Her siblings clung to her, sobbing, but she could barely hear them over the roar of the flames and the pounding of her own heart. Somewhere in the distance, the Lunaflame flowers still bloomed, untouched by the chaos. She wondered if they could feel her grief, if they understood what it meant to lose everything.

    By morning, the village was gone. So was her family, only she and her sister remained.

    The scene of the street decorated with mutilated corpses and flooded with crimson-colored blood was etched into her mind. The blood seemed to bloom under the moonlight.

    The Lunaflame was supposed to be a promise of hope. Now it felt like a grave marker, glowing quietly in a world that doesn''t deserve it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Isadora slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry for a moment before the familiar sight of the living room came into focus. The soft crackle of the fireplace reached her ears, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

    It was the living room in her mansion, warm and quiet. She lay on the plush couch, her head resting gently on her husband Noel Rivet''s lap. His hand moved through her hair with slow, tender strokes, the rhythm calming and familiar. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She closed her eyes again, leaning into his touch, as if his hand alone could shield her from the cruel, unpredictable world outside. The warmth she felt wasn''t just physical¡ª it was the kind that reached deep into her soul, pulling her back from the edges of despair.

    It was love, raw and unyielding, the kind that made her chest ache because she knew it couldn''t last forever. Nothing ever did. Life had taught her that lesson too many times. So she clung to these moments, drinking them in like they were the last drops of water in a desert.

    Her throat tightened, and her heart weighed heavy with unspoken fears. She turned her head, her eyes searching his face, every line and curve, committing them to memory as if she feared he might vanish the moment she looked away.

    Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, clutching at him like he was her anchor in a storm.

    "You''re going again, aren''t you?" Her voice broke, the words trembling as they left her lips.

    Noel''s hand stilled in her hair. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression shifting from surprise to quiet understanding. He cupped the back of her head gently, pulling her closer as his other arm encircled her. "I would love to go alone," he murmured, his voice soft but steady. "That would be safer¡­ for you."

    Her chest tightened further. "Don''t speak about my safety," she whispered fiercely, burying her face in his chest, her voice muffled but laced with worry. "Do you even know how much I worry about you? Every time you leave, I feel like I''m holding my breath, waiting for the day I won''t see you come back." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she clenched her fists against his shirt.

    Noel let out a long sigh, his voice calm but tinged with something heavy¡ª regret? Resolve? "I was going to ask you to come with me this time."

    Isadora pulled back abruptly, her wide eyes locking onto his. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. "I can?"

    "Yes, Dor," he said, using her nickname with the affection that always melted her defenses. He shifted, helping her sit up beside him. "The mission is dangerous, but... it''s safer if you''re by my side. There''s a shapeshifter among the enemies. I can''t risk not knowing if you''re safe."

    Her breath hitched, but she nodded, her fear overshadowed by determination. "I understand," she said quickly, her voice a mix of relief and worry.

    Noel stood up, the warmth of his presence momentarily leaving her. He reached out to take her hand in his, his expression somber. "My love, I need you to truly understand. This isn''t just dangerous¡ª it''s life and death. We could die."

    Her gaze hardened, the worry in her eyes replaced by a quiet resolve. "I understand," she repeated, her voice steadier this time, though it carried less of the enthusiasm she had moments before.

    He studied her for a long moment, then exhaled softly. "Then I ask¡ª would you work for me? with me?" he said, his tone almost pleading. "Help me finish this mission quickly. Together, we might stand a chance."

    The light from the chandelier above caught the glint of a simple, unassuming ring on his finger. He reached into his coat and pulled out a plain white mask painted with a smiley face. "Victor said this would help. Master believes it might give us an edge."

    Isadora took the mask without hesitation, running her fingers over its surface. "Master Thadd?" she asked with a faint smirk, a small flicker of humor breaking through her worry.

    "Which other master do you think Victor or I would serve?" Noel teased gently, his lips quirking up as he pulled her into another embrace. The weight of the mask in her hand felt heavy, not because of its size but because of what it symbolized.

    Her arms tightened around him as she whispered, "I would never hide. Not now. Not ever. No matter how dangerous it gets, I''ll always stand by you." Her voice softened, but it carried a steel edge of resolve. "So yes, Noel. I''ll work with you... FOR you."

    He sighed, relief flickering in his eyes, and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, Dor." The words were simple, but the way he said them made her heart ache all over again. For now, they had each other. And for now, that was enough.

 Chapter 143 Why the Ice Box Deserves a Medal

    Seraphis lounged on the creaky chair, sipping her tea like it was the last drop of sanity she had left in this world. The sunset bathed her face in warm hues, but her mood? Oh, it was anything but warm. Judge had taken himself off to buy groceries hours ago¡ª or so she thought¡ª and her patience was thinner than a sheet of paper in a shredder.

    She tapped her foot, muttering under her breath. "Two hours. Two whole hours. What''s he doing? Raising the chickens himself? Starting a vegetable farm? Negotiating peace treaties with the cows?"

    Spoiler alert: it had not, in fact, been two hours. It had been about 50 minutes, give or take. But Seraphis, the proud owner of zero common sense when it came to checking clocks, had never cared for those silly circles with numbers. Her relationship with time was as complicated as Judge''s with groceries.

    As if summoned by her rising irritation, Judge burst through the door, his red cloak fluttering dramatically. "I''m home!" he announced like he''d just returned from slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. "Master, I got chicken instead of ham."

    Her teacup met the table with a slam that could''ve cracked the wood. "Where the hell have you been?" she growled, low and ominous like a storm about to let loose.

    Judge froze. "W-well, Master, if you don''t like chicken, I can, uh, go back and¡ª "

    "That''s not the problem, you brainless bean sprout!" she snapped. "I said, where have you been for TWO HOURS?!"

    Judge blinked. Then he blinked again. The boy had mastered the fine art of looking like a clueless puppy caught chewing the furniture. "Um, Master¡­" He placed the groceries gingerly on the table, as if they might explode. "It''s only been, like, 55 minutes. Tops. Look at the clock. 3:25 to 4:15. Even I know that''s not two hours, and math isn''t exactly my strong suit." He flashed a sheepish grin, not knowing he messed up the numbers. "Master, you should really learn how to, y''know, read time."

    Seraphis glared, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly. For a moment, she looked ready to punt him into next week. Then, with all the grace of someone realizing they''d been caught out, she lowered her head and muttered, "Shut up."

    Judge, being the gracious winner that he was, didn''t push it. Instead, he waltzed over to the enchanted ice box¡ª a steampunk refrigerator that was the pride of any mage''s kitchen¡ª and carefully stored the chicken. The poor guy was practically humming with relief that he wasn''t a splatter on the wall yet.

    Then, because Judge had a knack for stirring up trouble when the dust was just about to settle, he said, "The plan is proceeding smoothly, Master."

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, her cup halfway to her lips. "The plan? Oh, you mean the vague nonsense you tried to explain earlier. Care to remind me? Something about ''a few talks''? Because from where I''m sitting, your knack for words usually just gets us into fistfights."

    Judge grinned, the kind of grin that screamed trust me, I''ve got this¡ª which, of course, meant everything was about to go spectacularly wrong. "Master, words are power," he said, stroking an imaginary beard like he was Confucius reborn. "They''re like tiny sparks. On their own, harmless. But depending on where they land? BOOM. Wildfire. Explosion. Chaos."

    "Or they fizzle out and do nothing," Seraphis deadpanned, rolling her eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

    "Details, Master, details." Judge waved her skepticism away like a particularly annoying fly. "Now, let me tell you about the time I convinced a guard that chickens were the reincarnation of ancient warriors¡ª "

    "Shut up with your supposed-to-be-funny stories." Seraphis got up with her empty glass.

    "And you always laugh when I tell them, master."

    "Shut up, I will make sure to give you extra bits of training."

    "What?! Why?"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The massive indoor training ground of the Wistmere Drakonis house was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of ether-infused torches lining the walls. This space was usually reserved for serious, epic-level training that shaped warriors, leaders, and legends. Today, however, it was occupied by one fiery, frustrated teenager who had the grace of a stomping toddler.

    Amber paced back and forth like a caged wyvern, her black full-body suit squeaking slightly with every exaggerated movement. It clung to her like a second skin, making her feel more like an overstuffed sausage than a noble dragon-in-training. "I hate this suit! I feel like I''m about to enter a diving competition or something!"

    Her master, the epitome of calm and composure, sat on a marble bench nearby, one leg crossed over the other. Black-haired and blue-eyed, she looked like she had just stepped out of a painting¡ª and was completely unfazed by Amber''s tantrum. "Amber, focus. You''re here to learn how to transform into a wyvern, not complain about your wardrobe."

    Amber stopped mid-pace, pointing a dramatic finger at her. "Easy for you to say, Master. You''re not the one waddling around like a... a¡­ slippery eel! And WHY do I even need to wear this thing?!"

    Her master smirked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to remind Amber of her not-so-glorious moment. "Do you remember what happened during your first transformation attempt?"

    Amber''s face turned a lovely shade of crimson. "Don''t. You. Dare."

    "Oh, but I must." Her master stood, arms crossed, delivering the tale with the precision of a bard recounting a comedy epic. "You stood there, full of confidence, channeling ether like you owned the world. And then POOF! There you were, a magnificent dragon... and there your dress went, shredded into a million pieces."

    Amber groaned loudly, covering her face with both hands. "It wasn''t that bad."

    "It was so bad," her master continued, undeterred. "I had to shoo the servants away because you were essentially a giant, naked dragon. The suit is enchanted to stretch and reform with your transformations. Consider it a gift to save your dignity."

    "Dignity?!" Amber squeaked. "You mean my lack of it!" S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Her master simply raised an eyebrow. "Shall we get back to training, or would you prefer to relive that memory a little longer?"

    Amber, now thoroughly mortified, stomped back to the center of the training ground. "Fine. But just so you know, I''m doing this under protest."

    "Noted."

    Amber stood still, trying to channel her focus. The goal was simple, at least in theory: transform into a wyvern. Not a dragon. A wyvern. Dragons were the Drakonis family''s true form, but sometimes a little disguise came in handy, and wyverns were less conspicuous.

    Her master''s voice echoed across the hall, calm yet commanding. "Now, remember: the key to transformation is visualization. Picture yourself as a wyvern¡ª smaller, less grand, but still elegant. Channel your ether carefully. You''ve done this as a dragon; this should be no different."

    Amber rolled her eyes, muttering, "No different, she says. Easy for her to say when she''s not the one doing it."

    "What was that?" her master called.

    "Nothing, Master!" Amber squeaked, forcing a smile.

    Closing her eyes, Amber began to focus. She felt the ether coursing through her veins, a warm, buzzing sensation that she guided toward her limbs. Her body began to shift, bones cracking and muscles reforming.

    And then... BOOM.

    Amber hit the ground, groaning. She hadn''t transformed into anything. Instead, she''d managed to create a small explosion of ether that left her hair sticking up like she''d been struck by lightning.

    Her master sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Amber, what did I just say about careful channeling?"

    "I was careful!" Amber shot back, shaking her hands as if trying to dispel the leftover static. "It''s just¡ª ugh¡ª this is so much harder than turning into a dragon! And this cloth is making this worse, why do I have to wear this?"

    "That''s because you''re not yet proficient in the full principle that merges your clothes with your skin. But it is much more complex." her master explained patiently. "Transforming into a wyvern requires a different kind of focus. It''s not your true form, so it doesn''t come as naturally. You''re essentially tricking your own essence into becoming something it''s not."

    Amber groaned again, flopping onto the ground. "Why can''t you just teach me the whole principle now? Wouldn''t that make this so much easier?"

    "You make too much haste Amber, it is not a good habit." Her master knelt beside her, her expression softening slightly. "A sword rushed in its forging may look sharp, but it will shatter in the first clash. True strength comes from fire and the steady rhythm of the hammer, each strike refining and hardening it. Remember this: only through patience and persistence can something endure the trials it was meant to face.

    "Both will make way for more trials, but a refined blade helps you while a broken blade betrays you."

    Amber stared blankly. "Cool metaphor, Master. Very deep. But what does that have to do with me not turning into a wyvern?"

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    Her master sighed, standing up again. "It means you need patience. True strength comes from persistence and refinement. Rushing only leads to mistakes¡ª and, in your case, explosions."

    Amber grumbled something under her breath but got back on her feet. "Fine. I''ll try again. But if I blow up again, I''m blaming you."

    Her master chuckled, returning to her bench. "By all means."

    Amber took a deep breath, this time muttering a mantra to herself. "Slowly. Carefully. Don''t blow up. Slowly. Carefully. Don''t blow up¡­"

    She channeled her ether again, guiding it through her body. This time, she felt something shift. Her limbs began to change, her vision sharpened, and she felt¡­ lighter?

    But when she opened her eyes, she wasn''t a wyvern. She was a¡­ half-dragon, half-wyvern mess. One wing was draconic, the other wyvern-like, and her tail? It looked like it belonged to a lizard.

    Her master burst out laughing, a rare break in her usual composure. "Amber, you look like a chimera that lost a bet."

    Amber glared at her. "Not helping, Master!"

    "You''re getting closer," her master said, still chuckling. "Try again."

    Amber took another deep breath, more determined than ever. "Okay, Amber. You''ve got this. Third time''s the charm. Just picture the wyvern. Be the wyvern."

    She channeled her ether once more, this time slower than before. She visualized every detail of a wyvern: the slender frame, the two legs, the smaller wings. She felt her body shift again, and this time, it felt¡­ right.

    When she opened her eyes, she saw the ground from a lower perspective. Her limbs were thinner, her wings smaller¡ª but proportional¡ª and her tail swayed gracefully behind her.

    "I did it?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe it. "I DID IT!"

    Her master clapped, her smile returning to its usual calm demeanor. "Congratulations, Amber. You''ve successfully transformed into a wyvern. And in just two days¡ª impressive."

    Amber beamed, preening in her new form. But her master wasn''t done.

    "However," she added, "until you learn the full principle, you''ll still risk tearing your clothes every time you transform. That suit will only save you so many times."

    Amber groaned, shifting back into her human form. "Great. So I''ve got more homework?"

    Her master smirked. "Consider it an opportunity for growth."

    Amber flopped onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling. "I swear, being a dragon is so much easier."

    Her master chuckled, patting her on the head. "You''ll thank me later."

    Amber muttered something about dubious blessings but secretly felt a small flicker of pride. She''d done it¡ª awkwardly, explosively, but she''d done it. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to stop tearing her clothes and blowing herself up. No big deal¡­ right?

 Chapter 144 Safe? Or Just Safely Ignored?

    The checkered violet and blue carriage creaked and swayed as it trundled along the cobblestone streets. Inside, Noel Rivet sat with his arms crossed, his face the very picture of calm, as though he hadn''t just yanked his wife, Isadora, out of her afternoon plans and stuffed her into the carriage with nothing more than a clipped, "It''s today."

    Opposite him, Isadora sat with a stiffness that rivaled a suit of armor, her red and black dress puffing indignantly with every deep, exasperated breath she took. She stared at Noel, daring him to meet her eyes, but he was too busy looking out the window as if the passing scenery were the most fascinating thing in the world.

    Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she spoke. "So, you''re not even going to explain what this is about?"

    Noel glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the window. "I told you. Work."

    "Work," she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. Because work is such a thorough explanation. What kind of work, Noel? And why does it involve me being dragged halfway across the country without so much as a warning? You just told me yesterday to work FOR YOU... WITH YOU. Now you are telling me I can''t work with you because of what? MY safety?"

    He sighed, the kind of long-suffering exhalation that suggested he''d already had this conversation in his head and was tired of it before it even began. "It''s complicated."

    Isadora snorted. "Oh, it''s complicated. How convenient. Does ''complicated'' mean you can''t be bothered to explain, or are you just trying to keep me in the dark?"

    Noel finally turned to face her, his expression carefully neutral. "It means it''s something I need to handle without distractions."

    Her jaw dropped. "Distractions? That''s what I am to you now? A distraction?"

    He rubbed his temple, a flicker of frustration breaking through his calm facade. "Isadora, don''t twist my words. You know that''s not what I meant."

    "Do I?" she shot back. "Because it sure sounds like you''re saying I''m in the way. That you''d rather do whatever this is without me slowing you down."

    Noel pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every life choice that had led to this moment. "You''re reading too much into this. I''m trying to keep you safe." Read new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

    "Safe," she repeated, her voice rising. "You keep using that word like it explains everything, but it doesn''t! I don''t need you to keep me safe, Noel. I''m not some fragile damsel in distress that you have to protect! I am a trained assassin if you now at least a bit about me. I could take out a whole room with guys by the time you finished cleaning your shoes."

    "It''s not about fragility," he said, his tone measured, as if he were explaining something to a particularly stubborn child. "It''s about priorities. My job is dangerous. If you''re involved, I have to split my focus between the mission and worrying about you. That''s not practical."

    Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushing with anger. "So I''m a liability now? Is that what you''re saying?"

    "No," he said firmly, though the slight hesitation in his voice didn''t escape her notice. "I''m saying that I need to stay focused. And when you''re around, I¡ª "

    "You what?" she interrupted, leaning forward. "You can''t concentrate? Because you''re too busy worrying about me? Is that it?"

    "Yes," he admitted, his voice rising for the first time. "Because I care about you, Isadora! Is that so hard to understand?"

    She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his outburst. But the hurt quickly bubbled back to the surface. "If you care about me so much, then why do you keep shutting me out? Why don''t you trust me enough to let me help?"

    "It''s not about trust," he said through gritted teeth.

    "Then what is it about, Noel?" she demanded. "Because from where I''m sitting, it looks an awful lot like you don''t think I''m good enough to handle this. Like you don''t believe in me."

    "That''s not fair," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

    "Fair?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "You want to talk about fair? What''s fair about dragging me into this mess without telling me why? What''s fair about making me feel like I''m not even part of my own marriage?"

    He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn''t give him the chance.

    "You know what''s really unfair?" she continued, her voice trembling. "The fact that you expect me to just sit quietly and wait while you go off and do whatever it is you do, without ever considering how that makes me feel. Do you even care, Noel? Or am I just¡­ convenient?"

    Noel''s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. But instead, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, his expression hardening. "You''re blowing this out of proportion."

    Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn''t speak. When she finally found her voice, it was barely above a whisper. "Blowing this out of proportion?" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He didn''t answer, which only made the silence more deafening.

    "You really don''t get it, do you?" she said, her voice shaking. "You don''t understand what it''s like to feel invisible. To feel like you''re not enough."

    "Isadora," he began, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

    "No," she said, her voice rising again. "You don''t get to brush this off. Not this time. You keep saying it''s about keeping me safe, but it''s not. It''s about control. You don''t want me to be part of this because you can''t stand the idea of not being in charge. Admit it."

    "That''s ridiculous," he said, his voice cold.

    "Is it?" she shot back. "Because from where I''m sitting, it sure looks like you''re more comfortable keeping me at arm''s length than actually letting me in."

    For a long moment, they sat in silence, the tension in the carriage so thick it was almost suffocating. Outside, the city continued to bustle, oblivious to the storm brewing within.

    Finally, Noel spoke, his voice quiet but resolute. "I do what I do to protect you, Isadora. Whether you believe that or not is up to you."

    Her chest tightened, and she looked away, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Protect me? she thought bitterly. Or push me away?

    The carriage came to a stop in front of the hotel, and before Noel could say anything else, Isadora opened the door and stepped out. She didn''t wait for him to help her; she didn''t even look back. Her heels clicked against the cobblestones, each step a sharp punctuation to the argument that still echoed in her mind.

    She didn''t turn around, not even when she heard the carriage start to move again. He didn''t wait. He didn''t even wait to see her safely inside.

    Her stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something she didn''t want to name. Is his mission really that important? Or is he just in a hurry to get away from me?

    Inside the grand reception hall, the noise and bustle felt distant, like a faint echo of a world she no longer belonged to. She handed her identity card to the receptionist with hands that trembled just slightly, hoping no one noticed.

    As she waited for the key, her thoughts churned, a relentless tide of doubts and fears. Maybe I''m overreacting. Maybe he''s right. Maybe I do get in the way. But if that''s true, then what does that say about us? About me?

    The receptionist handed her the key with a polite smile, but even that felt hollow. She climbed the stairs to her room, her steps heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unanswered questions.

    When she finally reached her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her chest heaving with the effort of holding herself together. The room was immaculate, the kind of sterile perfection that only made her feel more out of place.

    She sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands twisting in her lap. Why am I even here? she thought. To wait for some stranger? To play the obedient wife while Noel goes off to be the hero?

    The doubts swirled, darker and heavier now, each one a whisper in the back of her mind. Maybe it''s not just about work. Maybe he really doesn''t want me there. Maybe someone''s been whispering in his ear, planting seeds of doubt¡ª about me, about us.

    And then, unbidden, a thought crept in, cold and insidious: Or maybe he''s right. Maybe I''m just not enough.

    When the knock at the door came, sharp and unexpected, it startled her out of her thoughts. Her hand instinctively went to the dagger hidden beneath her skirt.

    "Who is it?" she called, her voice steadier than she felt.

    "Your husband''s contact," came the reply, smooth and too familiar.

    Her grip on the dagger tightened. Whoever they are, she thought, they''d better have answers. Because I''m done with questions.

    She went ahead and opened the door, there stood a tall man wearing a black frock coat and a plain white mask with a smiley face. Without standing on ceremony, the man bowed and got inside, closing the door behind him.

    "Good evening Ma''am Rivet, I am Lucifer."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    (A few hours earlier)

    Judge tapped on the edge of his throne as Lucifer sat beside the table in utter silence. There was nobody else in the room, and Judge was thinking. This made Lucifer uncomfortable, he was in the presence of a god''s attendant and he was being observed closely.

    Finally, Judge budged, "I have a mission for you Lucifer." He commanded, "Do you accept?"

    "With honor my lord," Lucifer stood up, the sound of his seat dragging echoed in the room, "I shall do anything you command."

    "Very well." Judge nodded, and the scriptwriter behind him disappeared. Lucifer just now was only a part of his script that he had taken an increased liking to. He had not really used it since he was too busy growing up, and also minor things like escaping his mother''s grasp and trying hard to not let his skills be noticed.

    Clio had told him that he could share powers with any one of his underlings, and the three skills she bestowed him were no exception, he could command people under him to recruit more people, whom he could control to recruit more marionettes.

    So basically, an infinite anything glitch. But his marionettes (Actors in the scripts he wrote) were not entirely under his control, they could not act so much against their usual selves since the script makes them believe that they are doing things of their own volition and doing absurd things are not something they would do.... unless they usually do absurd things.

    "You shall head to a hotel in the capital," Judge told him with a gaze without any visible emotions. "everything next you do will come to you naturally, Just trust your instincts."

    "Yes, my lord." Lucifer bowed and vanished, Judge then cast his gaze back to the clueless husband who had just clashed with his clingy wife because he wanted to keep her safe. He was going to try something else next, he was going to try erase some memories.

 Chapter 145 The Sin of Pride Meets the Sin of Overthinking

    The luxurious hallway of the hotel''s second floor was eerily empty, except for one solitary figure: Lucifer. His black frock coat swayed slightly as he pulled a mask from within its folds¡ª a plain mask, utterly featureless, save for two unsettling dark spots where the eyes should be and a deeply creepy smile stretching across the bottom.

    "Great," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the mask like it was a questionable dish at a fancy buffet. "Nothing says ''trustworthy'' like dressing like a deranged mime."

    After securing the mask over his face, he hesitated for a split second, then knocked lightly on the door. As if rehearsed, he took a step back, standing like he was posing for a sinister portrait.

    From the other side, a steady, feminine voice rang out. "Who is it?"

    Lucifer froze. His mind raced, not with ideas but with a big, fat nothing. Your master will guide you, he told himself, though said master was more of the "throw you into the deep end and see if you swim" type. Bracing himself, he decided to wing it.

    "Your husband''s contact," he said smoothly, surprising even himself with the lack of stuttering. Confidence: check. Truth: not so much. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After a tense moment, the door creaked open just a crack. A woman in a red and black dress stepped into view. Her expression was what one might call "aggressively unwelcoming." If her face could talk, it would say, "You''re not welcome, but if you have cash¡ª or illegal substances¡ª I might reconsider."

    Lucifer, unbothered, slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He gave a slight bow, a move that probably belonged in a ballroom rather than this tense encounter. "Good evening, Ma''am Rivet," he said, straightening up. "I am Lucifer."

    Isadora stepped aside with a huff, as if to say, Sure, do your little theater act, stranger. She plopped onto the edge of the bed, her posture radiating exhaustion and suspicion. "Lucifer," she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That''s¡­ original."

    "It''s my codename," Lucifer said, settling himself into a nearby chair with the ease of a man who owned the place. "A title bestowed upon me by my lord¡ª Lucifer, the sin of pride."

    Isadora raised an eyebrow so high it practically left her face. "Uh-huh. And your real name?"

    Lucifer paused dramatically. "I don''t think you have the qualifications to hear that," he said, folding his hands as if he were discussing stock prices.

    This was the verbal equivalent of pouring oil onto an already raging fire. Isadora''s face turned a shade of red that perfectly matched her dress. "You smug little¡ª !" She punched the bed with enough force to make it creak. "First my husband keeps secrets from me, and now you? What is this? The secretive boys'' club of Eldris? I''m his wife, not some random nosy neighbor!"

    "I don''t serve Noel Rivet," Lucifer said, his voice calm, like he was discussing the weather. "My master has other concerns. But yes, Noel instructed me to ensure your safety. Nothing more, nothing less."

    "Safety!" Isadora shot to her feet, her voice cracking with frustration. Tears welled up in her eyes, though whether from anger or sadness, even she couldn''t tell. "Why do all of you act like I''m some fragile vase that''ll shatter if someone so much as sneezes near me? I''m not a liability! I can help! Just tell me what''s going on!"

    Lucifer sat in silence, letting her rant echo around the room. Finally, when the storm of words subsided, he spoke. "You''re free to think whatever you like," he said with the emotional detachment of a brick wall. "But I''m afraid you won''t be leaving this room until your husband returns. Or until the two-day protection period is over."

    Isadora glared at him, her frustration boiling over. But deep down, she knew arguing with him was as productive as yelling at a locked door. She sank back onto the bed, her mind racing.

    Why here? Why this hotel room? she wondered, biting her lip. Noel could''ve just kept me at the house if it''s about safety. And what''s with this guy¡ª Lucifer? He''s not even pretending to care. Is this some twisted game?

    She tried to piece it all together. A shapeshifter, Noel had said. But if that were true, how could he trust this guy? Could he be the shapeshifter? What if¡ª

    Her thoughts spiraled further into suspicion and doubt until she shook her head violently. Stop overthinking. He wouldn''t do this to me. Would he?

    After a few moments of silence, Lucifer tilted his head. "Say," he asked, his tone light as if they were chatting about dinner plans, "you calmed down a bit?"

    Isadora shot him a glare that could''ve melted steel. "Barely," she snapped, but her tone lacked bite. She was exhausted from her own internal monologue.

    Lucifer nodded sagely. "Good. Want a cigar?" He pulled out a sleek case and popped it open, revealing neatly lined cigars that smelled faintly of expensive spices.

    Isadora blinked, caught off guard. "A¡­ cigar?"

    "Yeah," Lucifer said casually. "They''re great for stress. Or so I''ve heard. Personally, I just like looking sophisticated."

    "You''re unbelievable," she muttered, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

    Lucifer grinned¡ª well, his mask did the grinning for him. "That''s what they all say."

    Isadora sighed, leaning back on the bed. "Fine. Hand it over. If I''m stuck here with you, I might as well smoke."

    "Now we''re talking." Lucifer tossed her a cigar and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He leaned back, puffing his own cigar like he was at a rooftop party. "So, how''s life?"

    Isadora nearly choked on her first puff. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

    "Why not? We''ve got time to kill. And you seem like someone with a lot on her mind."

    "You don''t say," she muttered, rolling her eyes. But before she realized it, she was ranting again. "Life''s been¡­ frustrating, okay? Noel used to tell me everything. Now it''s all ''classified'' this and ''don''t worry about it'' that. I swear, if I hear ''it''s for your safety'' one more time, I''ll scream."

    Lucifer nodded, his mask''s permanent smile somehow looking smug. "Classic husband behavior. Keep the wife in the dark, then act surprised when she''s mad."

    "Exactly!" Isadora said, pointing her cigar at him. "Wait¡ª why am I agreeing with you?"

    "Because I''m right," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Also, because deep down, you know he''s just trying to protect you. Even if he''s going about it like a complete idiot."

    Isadora stared at him, her frustration slowly giving way to a grudging smirk. "You''re insufferable, you know that?"

    "Part of my charm," Lucifer said, taking another puff.

    For a moment, the two sat in relative silence, the tension in the room easing slightly. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

    "You know," Lucifer said after a while, "if it makes you feel better, I''m not exactly thrilled about this gig either."

    "Really?" Isadora said, raising an eyebrow. "Babysitting not your thing?"

    "Not when the ''baby'' punches beds and yells about being a liability," Lucifer quipped.

    Isadora snorted, despite herself. "Fair point. But don''t think this means I like you."

    Lucifer placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Perish the thought, ma''am."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Hawthorne: "Perish the thought, ma''am," Judge wrote on the scroll, pausing to nod in approval at the tone. Beneath it, he added, Isadora: "Could you stop calling me that? It''s getting uncomfortable. Call me Isadora; that''s more comfortable."

    Judge leaned back, eyeing the parchment like a chef inspecting a dish. "Not bad, not bad. Prideful but not overbearing. The man''s practically glowing with self-love here. Clio would be proud. Or maybe not, considering I''m turning her gift into the world''s weirdest puppet show."

    He sighed and picked up his pen again. The skill of Scriptwriting was a blessing and a curse. Sure, it let him steer reality with a few well-chosen words, but it also meant hours of perfecting dialogue. It wasn''t enough to write the scene¡ª every line had to resonate with the characters'' personalities. And Lucifer? He was prideful with a capital P. If Lucifer walked into a room and tripped, he''d blame the floor for not bowing to his presence.

    "Alright, prideful and smooth. No groveling allowed," Judge muttered as he scribbled the next line. Hawthorne: "Your discomfort pains me, Isadora, but who am I to deny a lady her preferences?" He grinned. "Now that''s the kind of guy who probably admires his reflection before saving someone."

    The truth was, this script had to be flawless, and this was not cutting it. Lucifer and Isadora''s interactions needed to feel natural, even though every word was Judge''s design. If the plan worked, Isadora would start to trust Lucifer, and Lucifer''s pride would make him play along without even realizing it. A two-for-one deal.

    Reworking the dialogue, Judge spoke aloud to test the flow. "Hawthorne: I''ve been told I''m overly formal. You''re lucky¡ª I''m making an exception."

    "Isadora: Lucky? Oh, please." He paused, considering. "Yeah, that works. Let''s add a smirk for good measure."

    By the time he finished, the script was polished, and Lucifer''s pride practically oozed from every word. Judge leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Not bad. All I need now is for the real Lucifer to not trip over his own ego while delivering these lines, not that he can."

    He returned his attention to the drama that was unfolding as per his script.

 Chapter 146 The gathering inside a vending machine

    Noel Rivet stepped out of his checkered violet-and-blue carriage, which always managed to draw more stares than it had any right to.

    It wasn''t the colors alone; it was the audacity of the design, as if it were purposefully challenging the concept of subtlety. He adjusted his coat and looked up at the Temple of Umbra, a structure so dazzlingly white it seemed like it might blind anyone who stared too long.

    Umbra was the goddess of shadows and obscurity, her authority involved total control over shadows and the ability to obscure anything, physical or conceptual. Her temple was called "The church of Shadows".

    The temple''s towering columns gleamed in the midday light, their surfaces so polished they could''ve doubled as mirrors. Intricate carvings of shadows¡ª yes, carvings of actual shadows¡ª seemed to shift as Noel moved closer, as if the stone itself was alive. The grand staircase leading to the entrance stretched out like the world''s most dramatic welcome mat, daring anyone to approach without an offering of reverence¡ª or sunglasses.

    There were a bunch of people going in and coming out, it was not a holiday today, yet the amount of people present would make people think otherwise. But this was the norm here, after all, it is the capital of Eldris.

    Noel climbed the stairs, muttering to himself. "Victor always has a flair for picking the most overly symbolic places to meet. What''s next, the lair of a dragon?"

    Inside, the brightness continued, and so did the bustling. The hallways were gleaming brightly in pristine white. The polished stone reflected every flicker of light, amplifying the luminosity to an absolutely unwanted level of brightness. It was beautiful but also unnerving, like walking through a corridor made of frozen lightning.

    The only reprieve came when Noel reached the prayer hall, a stark contrast to the rest of the temple. The black walls seemed to drink in the light, creating a space that was both dark and brilliantly illuminated. Shadows danced in sharp relief, making every corner of the room feel alive with an air of unsettling darkness.

    The hall was extremely large, it would take ages for a person to reach from one end to the other end. But Noel had another destination to reach, he turned left and headed straight for the grand stairway that connected the first floor and the ground floor. He made a right after climbing the stairs and headed for the door at the far end.

    (A/N: This might be confusing, but here, ground level is called the "Ground Floor," instead of the standard "First Floor" used in the USA, Canada, and a few other countries.)

    Quite a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, passed before Noel finally reached the door and pushed it open, entering a normal office with portraits, a few decorations, and a desk in the middle. The walls were made of smoothly cut stones put together with tiny spaces apart which were filled with cement.

    He took out a five nen coin and put it through a specific crack on one wall between the smooth cut stones. Then, he took out a ring from inside his bag and placed the gemstone on it on the wall. Discover hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire

    Silence ensued as Noel ceased all of his actions and waited there silently like an obedient dog. Soon, the stone wall shifted and a crack was opened just enough for him to pass through. He entered without hesitation, the clear view of a small room with a U-shaped table with twelve seats around it came into his view.

    There was no light but it was clearly lit, the sweet smell of burning incense permeated the air. There was a long table nearby on an elevated platform near the twelve-seater table, it had seven seats, three on each side of a grand seat.

    Victor was waiting there, leaning against one of the twelve seats, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His black coat blended into the background, leaving only his sharp features and piercing eyes visible in the glow.

    "Noel," Victor said, his voice echoing faintly. "Punctual as ever."

    "Punctuality is the least I can manage when summoned to a temple that could double as a light festival," Noel replied dryly. He stopped a few paces away, eyeing Victor. "You didn''t call me here just to enjoy the architecture, did you? And did the archbishop or cardinal allow you to use this room?"

    Victor smirked, "The pope did." he said faintly.

    Noel was surprised, "The pope did?"

    Victor''s smirk started to faint. "Yes. They have assigned a mission for you, something to done carefully and leave at the first sign of danger."

    Noel raised an eyebrow. "Oh... you mean¡ª the pope needs someone who is extremely careful and I am the most careful person in the organization? Or does he need the strongest?"

    "Both," Victor admitted with a shrug. "You''re already aware of the shapeshifter linked to the Church of Night. The same one we''ve been tracking in our previous encounters."

    "C''mon joke a little, I''m trying to be humorous here." Noel took a seat.

    "Noel..." Victor''s face read ''I am too serious to take a joke'', he leaned in on the table. "The matter is not to be taken lightly. Do you remember the cultists that we tried to investigate a while back?" sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel nodded, and his face quickly got serious. "The one who''s been slipping through every net we cast. What about them?"

    Victor''s stern expression lightened a bit. "We''ve confirmed that they''re still active and potentially planning something significant. They''ve been operating under the Church of Night''s banner, though the details of their orders remain a mystery. Your task is to investigate further¡ª find out what they''re up to and who they''re working with."

    "I thought we were after the shapeshifter," He too leaned in closer on the table, "Are they both related."

    "Yes," Victor nodded, "Remember when I said that mind reader, Pellen, read the memories of Lester?"

    "Mhm, go on."

    "Pellen also said something else, I could only reveal so much since someone could be listening inside your house."

    "I understand." Noel nodded.

    "Lester had identified the divine power when Pellen read his memories." Victor frowned. "It is the divine power of the god of night."

    Noel frowned, crossing his arms. "So you want me to investigate the church of night to find a shapeshifter who could be anyone, sounds fun. Any leads?"

    Victor tilted his head slightly. "We have got leads on frequent gatherings at a village where the church of shadow had been mysteriously destroyed by fire overnight and the only present church is the church of night. You might find the person there."

    "Great," Noel said, running a hand through his hair. "Just what I wanted¡ª a deep dive into a den of killers. Anything else I should know?"

    Victor nodded. "The Church of Night guards their god''s identity with utmost secrecy. while you are there, try to find out his name¡ª of course, don''t do it if it endangers the main mission. You''ll have to tread carefully."

    Noel let out a long breath. "Carefully is exactly my style, and I know I''ll make it work. What''s my cover?"

    Victor smiled faintly. "You''re not infiltrating this time, Noel. Just investigate. Stay in the shadows, blend into the crowd, and gather information. Don''t make yourself a target."

    Noel snorted. "You are trying to make this hard for me, I swear if I find myself on the church night''s hitlist, your name is the first one I''ll spill."

    Victor''s grin widened slightly. "Deal. And, Noel?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Try not to get killed. You''re too useful for that."

    "Wow," Noel muttered, turning toward the exit. "I''m feeling the love already."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    World building department here¡ª it seems to be time to introduce the gods and goddesses of Eldris.

    The gods and goddesses together make up a group of twelve, they are as given below:

    1. Veritas (god of Light and Truth)

    Power: Controls the truth of an object or a concept, assigning falsehoods as true and truths as false.

    2. Tenebris (god of Night and False Realities)

    Power: Creates and controls false realities, making them feel indistinguishable from the real world.

    3. Fortuna (goddess of Chance and Chaos)

    Power: Manipulates probabilities and randomness, creating impossible or unlikely outcomes.

    4. Ruinare (goddess of Renewal and Destruction)

    Power: Destroys any matter that has mass¡ª renew and reshape them into altered forms.

    5. Oblivio (god of Knowledge and Forgetfulness)

    Power: Create, control, and erase knowledge and memories without altering the past.

    6. Fidelitas (god of Bonds and Betrayal)

    Power: Manipulates bonds between anything, physical or conceptual. Separating things that should exist together, or bringing together separate things.

    7. Somnium (god of Dreams and Manifestation)

    Power: Brings dreams, ideas, and imagination into physical reality, bypassing natural creation processes.

    8. Aequor (god of Infinity and Boundaries)

    Power: Expands or contracts anything, physical or conceptual, making finite things infinite or collapsing infinite spaces.

    9. Fatum (god of Fate and Potential)

    Power: Alters the future by controlling the potential paths individuals or events can take.

    10. Anima (goddess of Life and Essence)

    Power: Controls the life force, deciding whether beings continue to exist in the future, without erasing their past.

    11. Lux (goddess of Light and Revelation)

    Power: Reveals hidden truths and secrets, revealing anything as long as it exists.

    (Special note: Lux is said to be the female identity of Vanitas, an identity Vanitas created to battle goddes Umbra.)

    12. Umbra (goddess of Shadows and Obscurity)

    Power: Obscures anything, physical or conceptual. Making the world unknown to the existence of concepts or things.

 Chapter 147 Maybe the mission was the bumps we suffered along the way

    Noel Rivet stopped in his tracks just before stepping into the black wooden carriage. He swiveled back toward Victor with a finger raised like he''d just remembered something crucial.

    "Wait a second! I feel like I forgot something important," Noel said, scratching his head with exaggerated concern.

    Victor raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "If you forgot it, it probably wasn''t important."

    Noel blinked, tilted his head thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "You''re right. It''s probably just my sense of self-preservation, anyway."

    Victor didn''t even dignify that with a response, but his lips twitched slightly as if he were suppressing a grin. Noel turned back toward the carriage, muttering to himself, "Yeah, who needs that anyway? Not this guy." Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

    With a dramatic sigh, Noel climbed into the black wooden carriage, which smelled faintly of varnish and, oddly, lavender. The coachman, an older fellow with a perpetually grim expression, tipped his hat but said nothing. Noel settled into his seat as if he were about to embark on the most glamorous vacation of his life instead of a potentially life-threatening investigation.

    The journey began with the carriage jerking forward in a manner that made Noel''s teeth clack together unpleasantly. He clutched the side of the doorframe and winced. "Fantastic start," he muttered. "This is going to be a magical ride, I can tell already."

    He leaned back and stretched out, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He tapped his temple. I''ve definitely forgotten something. But what? Did I leave the stove on? But I don''t even cook much.

    Outside, the grand capital of Eldris stood tall, towering spires, majestic domes, and streets paved so smoothly they looked like they had personal stylists. People were bustling about, minding their own businesses. And on the far side, a building that people could see almost everywhere in the city¡ª was the majestic palace of the emperor, or the royal family "rex Eldris."

    As the carriage drove out of the city, the scene was soon replaced by farmlands coated in a fine dusting of early snow. The flakes weren''t heavy yet, just a scattered flurry drifting lazily to the ground, covering the world in a fragile white lace. The countryside seemed to exhale in preparation for the coming winter, the first hints of frost sparkling like tiny diamonds in the fading sunlight.

    But Noel wasn''t in the mood for scenic appreciation. His attention was thoroughly occupied by the way the carriage seemed to hit every single pothole on the road with pinpoint accuracy.

    "Does this thing have a built-in pothole detector or something?" Noel grumbled as the carriage bounced violently, nearly sending him flying off the seat. "Because it''s doing a stellar job of finding all of them." Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The coachman didn''t reply, but Noel swore he caught a faint smirk in the man''s reflection. "Oh, you''re enjoying this, aren''t you?" Noel muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at the back of the driver''s head. "You sadist."

    The scenery was replaced with a snow-dusted forest and a few red-eyed rabbits darting between trees. They weren''t in search of food but seemed to be enjoying the calm before hunters would emerge from their winter hiatus.

    But Noel was busy trying to figure out why his brain felt like an unmade bed.

    "This buzz," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Why do I feel like... like I left the oven on? Except I don''t have an oven. Is this what anxiety feels like? Or am I just being... weird?"

    He tried to distract himself by looking out the window. That lasted about five seconds before the monotony of small animals playing around and the occasional bird chirping made his eyelids droop. But every time he closed his eyes, the buzzing in his head jolted him awake like an overzealous alarm clock.

    What is wrong with me? Noel thought, scowling. It''s probably nothing. I mean, Victor said it wasn''t important. And he''s... mostly reliable. Except when he''s not. Which is always.

    The driver glanced back at Noel through a small sliding window. "You talkin'' to yourself back there, mate?"

    "No," Noel snapped, his tone making it clear that, yes, he absolutely had been.

    As the hours dragged on, they exited the forest and entered the countryside. The carriage still hit every bump and pothole as if the driver was conducting a personal vendetta against Noel''s spine. The buzzing in his head didn''t help. In fact, it got worse. Noel''s fingers drummed against his knee, and he stared at the snowy countryside as if it owed him an explanation.

    Slowly, the novelty of the bumpy ride wore off, and boredom set in. Noel rummaged through his bag, which thankfully hadn''t been forgotten despite his earlier lapse of memory. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and a stubby pencil, starting to doodle in the margins.

    One particularly violent jolt caused the pencil to stab through the paper, and Noel let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Well, there goes my masterpiece. Truly, the world is not ready for my artistic genius."

    The coachman still said nothing, but Noel imagined he could hear the faintest snort of laughter.

    By the time the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and reds, the carriage rolled to a halt near a tiny village. Noel peeked out the window, his eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the place.

    The village looked like it had been plucked straight out of a folktale¡ª except the ominous kind where people mysteriously disappear after dark. The houses were small and crooked, leaning against each other like old drunks. A single weathered church tower loomed in the distance, casting a long shadow over the village.

    "Cheery place," Noel muttered as he stepped out of the carriage, stretching dramatically. "I bet the tourism board is really proud of this one."

    The coachman tipped his hat again and turned the carriage around without a word, leaving Noel standing alone on the cobblestone road. He sighed and adjusted his coat, pulling it tighter against the chill in the air.

    "Well, Noel," he said to himself, looking toward the shadowy silhouette of the church in the distance. "Time to go poke the metaphorical bear. Or shapeshifter. Or cult. You know, whatever horror-show thing I''m walking into this time."

    And with that, he set off down the path, his boots clicking against the cobblestones, muttering complaints about everything from the uneven road to the unsettlingly quiet atmosphere. If anyone was watching him, they probably got the impression that this was a man thoroughly unimpressed with life¡ª and they wouldn''t be entirely wrong.

    The target village was still far off, but this was the place that had been arranged for him to take a midnight train to his next destination. He had to take a really confusing route before he headed to the original destination. After all, he did not want people after him.

    He headed to the nearest inn and took a room for the night. By the time he entered the room and laid on the bed¡ª Noel felt like he''d aged ten years. He slowly got up and headed down to eat something, he had not eaten since morning. Maybe it was lunch that he forgot.

    The inn was a modest affair, there were quite a few people for a countryside inn. He went to the counter and ordered some questionable stew from the innkeeper.

    "Anything else for you?" the innkeeper asked, her smile friendly but her eyes clearly calculating his net worth.

    Noel rubbed his chin, debating whether to splurge on dessert. Then the buzzing flared up again. What am I missing?!

    "No," he said sharply, waving her off. "I''m good. Probably. I think."

    You''ve got this, Noel. He muttered to himself, You''re a professional. You''re not weird. You''re just... eccentric. Charming, even. Totally normal.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Isadora paced back and forth in the small room, her heels clicking against the polished wooden floor. Her red and black dress swished with each sharp turn she made, the fabric mirroring her agitation. "He''s unbelievable," she hissed. "Always so cryptic. Always so... distant. He treats me like I''m some fragile vase that''ll shatter the moment I know the truth!"

    Lucifer remained seated, his posture relaxed, one leg crossed over the other as if the storm of her emotions didn''t touch him. "Well, Lady Rivet," he began, his voice measured, "to be fair, your husband has been under quite a bit of stress. Perhaps this secrecy is his way of managing things without burdening you further."

    She stopped mid-step and turned to glare at him. "Oh, don''t you start defending him now. If he''s under stress, maybe he should talk to me about it instead of shutting me out! I''m his wife, not some... some acquaintance!"

 Chapter 148 Trust Me, Im Definitely Not Smirking

    "I''m his wife, not some... some acquaintance!"

    Lucifer nodded slowly, his fingers tapping the armrest of his chair. "You make a compelling point. Communication is the backbone of any partnership, after all. It''s strange, isn''t it? A man as meticulous as your husband should know that keeping you in the dark would only breed resentment."

    Isadora''s eyes lit up, the spark of validation fanning her anger. "Exactly! That''s what I''ve been saying! But no, he just dumps me in a hotel room with a stranger and says, ''Stay put, darling, it''s for your safety.''" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and her pacing resumed with renewed fervor.

    Lucifer tilted his head, observing her with an almost curious expression. "And yet," he said softly, "perhaps he feels this is the only way to keep you safe. A shapeshifter is no ordinary threat, after all. Imagine if it took on your form and targeted him... or worse, if it targeted you."

    She paused, frowning, her anger briefly giving way to uncertainty. "You think he''s really that worried about me?"

    Lucifer leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "It''s possible. He could be doing all this out of love, out of fear of losing you. But..." He hesitated, as if reluctant to voice the thought.

    "But what?" she pressed, her voice sharp.

    "But what if," he said slowly, "he''s simply using this as an excuse to keep you at arm''s length? To focus on his own goals without having to worry about you meddling in them?"

    Her breath hitched, and she turned away, her hands gripping the back of a chair. "I''ve thought about that," she admitted. "But I keep telling myself it''s not true. He wouldn''t..."

    "Of course not," Lucifer interjected smoothly, standing and taking a few measured steps toward her. "Your husband''s loyalty is beyond question. But even the most loyal of men can falter under pressure, can make decisions that seem cold or distant. That doesn''t mean his intentions aren''t pure."

    Isadora''s grip on the chair tightened. "Then why does it feel like he''s pushing me away? Like I''m just... in the way?"

    Lucifer sighed, the sound heavy with faux regret. "Because maybe¡ª just maybe¡ª he believes you''re safer out of his way. It''s a flawed logic, but not an uncommon one among men in his position. They think they''re protecting you when, in reality, they''re only alienating you."

    Her laugh was bitter. "Well, it''s working. I feel plenty alienated."

    Lucifer placed a hand over his heart, his tone taking on a gentler quality. "I''m sorry you feel that way, Lady Rivet. Truly, I am. You deserve better, and perhaps your husband would see that if he weren''t so consumed by his work."

    She glanced at him, her expression caught between anger and sadness. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Sit here like a prisoner while he plays hero?" sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lucifer stepped back, resuming his relaxed posture. "You wait. You trust. When he returns, ask him everything that''s on your mind. Demand answers if you must. He owes you that much."

    "And what if he doesn''t come back?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Lucifer hesitated just long enough to make the question hang heavy in the air. Then, he shook his head with an air of quiet confidence. "He will. A man like your husband always comes back... and if he does not, he just lost all the respect I have for him even though I have not much to speak of."

    He turned away, adjusting his coat, his unseen smirk hidden behind the mask. "You''ll have all the answers you seek in two days, Lady Rivet. I''m sure of it. And I will be sleeping in the next room, feel free to trouble me if you need anything."

    Lucifer opened the door "Oh and,"

    "And?"

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    "I was only tasked with protecting you, not entertaining you... but you seemed quite lonely." He smiled slightly and left.

    The room fell silent as Isadora mulled over his words, her emotions were a tangled web of doubt, anger, and hope. She looked at the clouds floating freely out in the sky, loneliness was starting to eat at her heart, no it wasn''t loneliness, it felt more like... Fear!

    The fear of betrayal

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Seraphis was enthusiastically slurping down a bowl of noodles, a famous specialty from the Eastern continent. This was her first time trying them, and honestly, it felt like a personal chef had been hiding in her taste buds, preparing for this very moment.

    Judge had whipped them up for her after swapping out Guzbin pork for the far superior Worrak beef. (Apparently, Judge had some kind of vendetta against Guzbin pigs. Don''t ask.)

    Just as she tipped her bowl to sip the last drops of the savory broth, the door to the kitchen flew open with all the subtlety of a bull in a teashop. Judge stumbled in, looking like he''d just fought off a mob of angry creditors¡ª or worse, spent three days locked in a cubicle writing quarterly reports. His vibe screamed "death by PowerPoint", or in this case, something more dramatic: the haunting expression of a Japanese anime artist on the brink of karoshi.

    "Wow," Seraphis paused mid-slurp, eyeing him over the rim of her bowl. She jabbed a noodle in his general direction for emphasis. "You look like someone dragged you out of a 14-hour shift at the local coal factory. Congrats on surviving."

    Judge, too tired to summon a proper comeback, muttered with a wave of his hand, "I''ll take that as a compliment. Much appreciated." He trudged over to the stove, lifted the lid of a pot with all the energy of a deflated balloon, and was immediately hit with the aromatic steam of beef broth, which seemed to mock his current misery by smelling too good.

    Seraphis, unfazed, went back to her noodles. "So," she asked between bites, "when are you heading off to your next round of monk seclusion? Gonna meditate yourself into another noodle recipe?"

    Judge grabbed a clean bowl and started ladling out the broth, giving her a side-eye so sharp it could dice onions. "It''s called work, not seclusion. And for your information, we''ve got someplace else to be." He shoved the bowl of steaming noodles onto the counter with the flair of someone who definitely wasn''t paid enough for this.

    "Someplace else, huh?" Seraphis smirked, twirling her chopsticks like a villain in a spaghetti western. "Let me guess¡ª another mystical library with extra stairs, or is it the kind of ''someplace else'' where we might actually survive this time?"

    Judge groaned, pouring himself a cup of tea like it was his only tether to sanity. "You''ll find out soon enough."

 Chapter 149 Much Ado About Bloody Business

    "M-Monster..."

    A heavily injured man tried to crawl back with the only hand he had left. Blood was continuously oozing out of his other hand like a badly plumbed pipe.

    His gore-covered body missed an arm and both his legs, the green jacket had turned crimson from the pool of blood he was trying to crawl out of, but blood spilled wherever he tried to crawl.

    "Monster? Oh please sweetheart you have never seen a true monster." A pair of leather boots appeared near him, the man wore a long black jacket and a cigarette dangled carelessly from his lips.

    He could''ve been mistaken for someone on a casual stroll after a hard day''s work¡ª calm, composed, even bored. His entire demeanor was jarringly at odds with the complete chaos and utter carnage surrounding him, as if none of it was worth breaking a sweat over.

    Bending down to get closer to the dying man, the stranger exhaled a slow stream of smoke, "But I have seen a true monster," He spat the cigarette, and it landed in the pool of blood and sizzled before dying out. "Trust me, you don''t want to see that person... not even in your dreams.

    "But you don''t need to worry about meeting with that monster since the realm of the dead is not somewhere she might be familiar with." He chuckled as he grabbed the man by his chest, propping him up. The fingers dug deeper as the bone cracked and blood oozed out of the five new holes.

    The man screamed in pain and agony, thrashing his only leg weakly on the ground and beating the man''s arm with his hand.

    He screamed louder, but alas, there was no soul left to help him. Everyone else had bid farewell to the world that offered them nothing but pain. Mutilated corpses in tattered clergyman clothes adorned the floor.

    "There is sound coming from that room!" Someone shouted

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    "Oh? Sounds like the cavalry''s here. About time, really. I was getting so bored talking to you." The man smiled behind the smiling clown mask, his red hair was a tousled mess underneath a black flat hat. It was Judge, currently under the disguise of "The clown of the sinister smirk". And the true monster he saw? He meant Seraphis.

    Judge''s gloved hand flexed, his fingers digging further into the man''s chest. The sickening crack of ribs shattering echoed in the room, followed by a wet squelch as blood ''gushed over Judge''s hand like he''d just squeezed a poorly constructed ketchup bottle.

    The man let out another soul-wrenching scream, his body spasming weakly. Judge sighed theatrically, leaning closer to the man''s ear. "You scream a lot, y''know? Honestly, it''s giving me a headache. But don''t worry; I''m about to fix that problem permanently."

    "There he is," Several figures in black robes burst into the room, weapons drawn and faces filled with a mix of emotions¡ª fear, anger, and maybe surprise. "You... what are you? How could anyone do this? They''re... they''re all dead. You''re a monster... no, something worse!"

    With a menacing laugh, Judge coiled his fingers around the man''s heart and furled his hand into a fist, crushing the heart and stopping the agonized scream. The man vomited another mouthful of blood before being tossed aside.

    "Torture? Oh, please." Judge tossed the man''s twitching body aside like a discarded rag doll, wiping his bloodied hand on the side of his long coat. "This isn''t torture. This is art. Not my best work, sure, but we all have off days."

    One of the newcomers, a burly man wielding an axe, charged forward with a roar. "I''ll cleave you in two, demon!"

    Judge didn''t move, didn''t even flinch. Instead, he sighed as if the man''s outburst was the most tiresome thing he''d ever encountered. "Oh, buddy, that''s adorable. Really. But¡­"

    The burly man''s axe swung down with all the force of a runaway train¡ª only for Judge to sidestep at the last second, the weapon embedding itself into the floor with a dull thunk.

    "¡­you''ve got to work on your aim."

    Before the man could react, Judge''s hand shot out, grabbing the axe handle. With a sharp yank, he pulled the man forward, planting a well-timed knee into his gut. The man doubled over with a pained groan, and Judge twirled the axe in his hands as if testing its weight. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Not bad craftsmanship. Bit dull, though. Here, let me sharpen it for you."

    With a swift movement, Judge swung the axe upward, slicing cleanly through the man''s torso. Blood sprayed in a grisly arc, and the red floor got a new coating of red paint. The upper half of the man''s body slumped to the ground, his face frozen in shock, while his legs remained standing for a comically long moment before collapsing.

    The remaining cultists recoiled, their faces pale as they stared at their bisected comrade. Judge turned toward them, twirling the blood-drenched axe like a baton, he cocked his head as if taunting for the next prey to come.

    "So¡­ who''s next? Don''t all volunteer at once; I hate choosing favorites."

    "Together!" one of them screamed, prompting the others into action. They charged together, various kinds of weapons all aimed at him with a polished craft of teamwork.

    Judge let out a low whistle. "Oh, a group effort! How cute. Let''s see how well you all coordinate dying."

    A spear thrust came for his chest, but he sidestepped, grabbing the weapon mid-air and snapping it in half with a casual flick of his wrist. The wielder barely had time to blink before Judge drove the jagged end of the broken spear through their throat.

    Another cultist swung a sword at his back, only to find Judge already behind them. "Nice try!" he chirped, plunging the axe into their shoulder and tearing it downward, ripping flesh and bone apart in one quick motion.

    "Ahhh, you''re all so squishy! Seriously, do you people even drink milk?" Judge mocked, his voice was derisive enough to get everyone angry, but fear ruled his enemies as he tore through their ranks. One by one, they fell¡ª heads rolling, limbs flying, blood pooling until the room resembled a slaughterhouse. Not that it wasn''t before with all the bodies lying there.

    Finally, only one cultist remained, trembling so violently that their sword clattered to the ground. Judge approached slowly, his boots squelching on the blood-soaked floor. He loomed over the terrified figure, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

    "Aw, don''t tell me you''re scared. I haven''t even gotten to the good part yet."

    The cultist whimpered, sinking to their knees. "P-please¡­ spare me. I''ll do anything. I was just forced..."

    Judge crouched down, placing a bloodied hand on their shoulder. "Anything, huh? How about¡­" His voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "...Hmm... This is a dilemma, what should you do? Ah! I know, does dying sound like a good idea?"

    Before he could answer, Judge stood and casually kicked his head with enough force to snap their neck, his body crumpling lifelessly to the ground. Blood started to pour out of his mouth. "Wow, talk about inner bleeding."

    Dusting off his hands, Judge surveyed the carnage with a satisfied nod. "Well, that was fun. Now¡­ who''s cleaning this mess? Oh, let me wait for the cleaner to come, I''ve already done his job, so cleaning is basically his gratitude... yes gratitude."

 Chapter 150 You call that a fight? Hold my sword as I probably dont need it

    Seraphis didn''t waste time. The corridor leading to the commotion was a wreck, chunks of stone scattered everywhere like overcooked breadcrumbs, like really...really overcooked.

    Screams echoed faintly ahead, but she barely registered them. She rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, and adjusted the grip on the sword strapped to her waist. Not that she needed it¡ª her fists were more than enough to handle most problems.

    A half-dead man groaned on the floor, she quickly unsheathed and ended his pain. Blood started to come out from a straight line across his neck, and the head slided off slowly.

    She could hear voices ahead behind the grand door. "That clown might have caused a commotion." She sighed, the noises were pretty intense¡ª as if an ant colony was disturbed by an anteater.

    When she finally burst into the large hall, the cultists inside froze mid-step. The room was barely lit, flickering lanterns casting eerie shadows on the walls. At least twenty of them stood there, armed and ready, their faces obscured by black hoods.

    "Who the hell are you supposed to be?" one of them barked, stepping forward with a mace slung over his shoulder.

    Seraphis ignored him, her sharp eyes scanning the space like a seasoned fighter should be. It was big, circular, with a high ceiling. Plenty of room to swing a sword¡ª or throw a punch. She took note of the two giant stone statues at either side of the room. It was of a person sitting inside a cloak with crossed arms, one arm holding a stone mirror while the other holding an orb that strangely felt like the moon. He also had many extremely polished stone mirrors on his head creating a jagged crown.

    "I''m someone you''re gonna regret meeting," she said casually, unsheathing her katana-like sword with a single, fluid motion. She shifted the sword to her left hand and readied a fist in her right hand.

    The cultist with the mace sneered. "Big talk for¡ª"

    He didn''t get to finish. Seraphis darted forward, faster than a woman of her size could have with a body that thin. Her fist collided with his chest before he even knew she''d moved. The sickening crunch of ribs breaking echoed through the hall as he flew backward, slamming into one of the statues and crumpling to the ground in a heap.

    The room exploded into chaos.

    Three cultists rushed her at once. Seraphis shifted the sword to the right and swung the sword, the blade whistling through the air as it cleaved through the first two with a single, horizontal slash. The third hesitated, just for a second¡ª long enough for Seraphis to sheath her sword, grab his head with her hand, and slam it into the stone floor.

    "Next," she growled, unsheathing up her sword again.

    A spear came at her from the left. She caught it mid-thrust, yanked the weapon forward, and sent its wielder stumbling toward her. With a quick upper kick, she sent him flying into the ceiling, where he stayed for a moment before crashing down in a heap, without his head.

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    "Wow, sorry." Seraphis muttered, "You guys really don''t learn, huh?" she turned toward the remaining cultists.

    They hesitated now, unsure, but one of them shouted, "Get her! She''s just one woman!"

    "Oh, just one woman, am I?" Seraphis smirked, raising an eyebrow. She grabbed the nearest chunk of broken stone, about the size of a barrel, and hurled it like a cannonball into their group. Bodies scattered like bowling pins, but with added blood effect, screams followed in its wake.

    Another cultist tried to flank her, but she turned and swung her sword in an arc. The blade didn''t connect¡ª she didn''t need it to, the blood mist did its job. The man was cut in half, he fell to the floor mid-sprint without even registering what had just happened.

    "Any of you want to keep this going?" she called out, planting her sword into the ground and cracking her knuckles again.

    The last few cultists exchanged glances, then bolted for the door.

    Seraphis sighed. "Cowards." She took a step forward, but the ground suddenly shook beneath her. She froze, her hand instinctively going to her sword.

    A massive, hulking figure emerged from the shadows¡ª a man nearly twice her size, wielding a hammer almost as tall as she was. His face was hidden by a steel mask, but his silver eyes where visible.

    "Finally," Seraphis said, grinning. "A real fight."

    The giant didn''t waste time, swinging his hammer with enough force to pulverize the floor where Seraphis had been standing a moment ago. She darted to the side, her movements impossibly quick, and retaliated with a downward slash. The blade hit the hammer, sparks flying as the two weapons clashed.

    For several minutes, the two traded blows. The room shook with each impact, chunks of stone and dust falling from the ceiling. Seraphis was grinning the whole time, her blood pumping. "Where were you hiding? I was getting bored."

    The man looked at her as if she was some kind of insect not worth his time. "I have other works than dealing with vile women."

    "You hit like a cart horse," she taunted, ignoring the insult and dodging another swing. "Nobody even uses them nowadays."

    She stepped in close, driving her fist into the giant''s stomach. He staggered back, and she didn''t give him a chance to recover. With a powerful swing of her sword, she shattered the hammer, the pieces clattering to the floor.

    The giant stared at her for a moment, then fell to his knees. Seraphis raised her sword high and brought it down, ending the fight with a single, decisive strike.

    She exhaled, rolling her shoulders, and glanced around the room. "Well, that''s handled."

    She made her way toward the next room, killing the cultists who managed to run away when she was fighting with the giant. She stepped over rubble and bodies alike, and pushed open another heavy wooden door, leading into another corridor that led to a bigger corridor.

    Why do all of them hate women so much? She thought as she strode forward. Was the church of night always this way? Speaking of which... there was not a single woman among the cultists, but there were plenty of followers. She shrugged and chuckled lightly, Heh! Women are too intelligent to fall into a cult, that must be it.

    She emerged in another grand hall and the sight stopped her in her tracks. The floor was soaked with blood¡ª fresh blood, still pooling. Corpses lay everywhere, mangled and broken, some barely recognizable as human, some were just pieces of flesh.

    In the center of it all stood Judge, leaning casually against the wall, twirling one of his pistols in his hand. His mask''s cheery grin was splattered with red, his black vest somehow spotless beneath the carnage.

    Seraphis pinched the bridge of her nose. "Judge, what the hell is wrong with you?"

    He looked up, tilting his head innocently. "Oh, hey, Master. Took you long enough." S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She gestured at the carnage. "You absolute psychopath. Did you have to turn them into¡­ into this?"

    Judge shrugged. "I was creative."

    Seraphis groaned, rubbing her temples. "You need serious help."

    "Noted," Judge said, grinning behind his mask. "So, what''s next?"

    She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Clean this up. I''m not stepping over any of the corpses here. Is this also a part of your genius plan?"

    Judge chuckled. "Aw, come on. You know you''re impressed."

    "Clean. It. Up."

    "No need to clean it" Judge grumbled, holstering his pistols. "The cleaner will arrive shortly."

    "Sometimes I wonder if you are the grand devil himself" Seraphis snapped, stepping carefully over a particularly mangled body, her long boots somehow stayed dry. "And for the love of Eldris, stop being such a damn freak."

 Chapter 151 Where Did the Door Go? Asking for a Friend

    Clarus was a city drowned in the ever-present daylight, where shadows were considered an endangered species, and sunglasses were a mandatory fashion statement. The city stood as a radiant beacon, proclaiming the glory of the Avians, a proud race with wings as white as the freshly fallen snow.

    Ruling over them were the Luminarii, noble Avians whose very existence was a walking destruction. Among them was Celeste, a Luminarii whose patience was being stretched beyond normal human comprehension by her sister, Flora, who was currently making herself comfortable on a marble bench glowing brighter than her guilty conscience.

    "What are you doing here, Flora?" Celeste demanded, her crossed hands perched on top of each other in a manner that screamed superiority¡ª and exasperation. "You''re supposed to be at the welcoming assembly. Do you know how many times Father asked me if I''ve seen you? Do you know how many times I lied? And mother still has not finished her evening tea. Why are you both like this? Poor father."

    Flora tilted her head back lazily, letting her unfolded white wings drape over the sides of the bench like some kind of feathery display. "Waiting for the sunset," she said with a peaceful smile, as if her response wouldn''t trigger an aneurysm in any sane Luminarii.

    (A/N: Aneursym is something like the bulging of blood veins, mostly in the head)

    Celeste blinked. Once. Twice. Then she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice like someone sharing a dangerous secret. "You do know where you are, right? Clarus. City of Sun. The sun doesn''t set here, Flora. Ever. It''s like¡­ it''s like¡­ asking a Luminarii to dye their wings black¡ª it''s just not done!"

    Flora waved her hand dismissively, her wings rustling like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. "Oh, I know," she said, as if this were the most reasonable explanation ever. "But imagine it. Just imagine the sun dipping below the horizon, the sky shifting from gold to amber, to crimson, to velvet blue. Wouldn''t it be glorious? Like a dream you didn''t know you needed until you woke up from it."

    Celeste stared at her sister as if she''d sprouted a second pair of wings. "Flora, do you hear yourself? The sun doesn''t set here because it can''t! It''s literally powered by the Church of Light! They''ve spent centuries ensuring this city remains bathed in perpetual day! There''s an entire choir whose sole job is to sing about it! I mean, what were doing in history classes?"

    "I know," Flora said, sighing wistfully. "But don''t you think it would be beautiful if it did? Just once? The first night in Clarus history... the stars twinkling above us¡­" Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire

    "The stars twinkling above us?" Celeste repeated, incredulous. "Flora, the night isn''t some romantic backdrop for poetry recitals! It''s dangerous! You''ve read the chronicles. Night means darkness, and darkness means them."

    Flora turned her gaze to her sister, her usual dreamy expression replaced with something sharper. "Them," she echoed softly, her wings ruffling ever so slightly.

    "Yes, them." Celeste''s voice dropped to a whisper. "The Vampires. The Nocturns. Do you think they''d just let us sit here, admiring the stars if the night fell on Clarus? They''d descend on us like vultures on a wounded sparrow. We''ve grown too comfortable in the light. Without it, we''d be¡ª "

    "¡ª vulnerable," Flora finished, her tone unusually serious. She leaned back, her gaze shifting to the unchanging horizon. "But maybe that''s the problem. Maybe we''ve grown so used to the sun that we''ve forgotten what it''s like to stand in the dark. To face it."

    Celeste felt a chill run down her spine, which was a strange sensation in a city where the temperature was perpetually pleasant. "Flora, what are you saying?" Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "I''m saying," Flora replied, her voice was calm, "that the sun won''t shine forever. And when it doesn''t, we''ll have to decide whether we''re creatures of light¡ª or something more. I want to be a light envoy and travel to places outside this city... and maybe see the night sky illuminated by stars, I want to fall asleep on a grass patch staring at the starry sky."

    Celeste opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She watched her sister recline against the glowing bench, her face illuminated by the ever-present light of Clarus

    "Let''s head back anyway," She shook her head in defeat. "The pilgrims would appear before night, and your job is to welcome them. And doing your job properly is the first step towards becoming a light envoy."

    Flora looked at her sister and folded her wings, "Okay."

    She stood up and walked to the edge, unfurling her wings again to take flight. She let herself fall from the ledge and flapped her wings¡ª flying towards a giant arc made of white stone and gold.

    Celeste looked at her sister flying away with a face devoid of any emotions. She was never going to let her sister be a light envoy, nor were their parents¡ª it was just too dangerous of a job.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel Rivet had his doubts. Not about himself¡ª oh no, Noel had an ego big enough to classify as its own celestial body. But he was wondering how in the name of all things spooky he was supposed to pull off his mission without looking like a tourist with a camera slung around his neck. And this odd feeling of forgetting something just won''t go away.

    The church he was sent to monitor was a decent-sized one for a town with a population of just over three hundred thousand people, give or take the odd census miscount. Not massive, but big enough to scream, "Look at me, I''m totally not suspicious!"

    Getting to this town had been a journey that deserved its own memoir. Noel had skipped the direct railway because, you know, nothing says "subtle operative" like showing up in first-class with a newspaper and a trench coat. Instead, he''d taken a carriage to some village that could''ve been a set piece for a soap commercial.

    Then, after befriending a farmer who smelled like apples and questionable life choices, he hitched a ride to the next town and finally hopped on a train. It was the kind of journey that would''ve made a travel blogger quit on day one.

    Now he was standing in front of the church. It wasn''t huge¡ª like, the big-city churches would''ve laughed at this one and asked if it needed help with rent. But it still had an air of oomph, like it wanted you to know it meant business. The stained-glass windows glared at him like judgmental aunties at a family gathering.

    To blend in, Noel did what any self-respecting spy would do¡ª he became the touristiest tourist ever. He took long, aimless walks, peeked into souvenir shops, and even bought a mug that said "I love Somol" because the shopkeeper wouldn''t stop staring at him.

    He asked for directions he didn''t need, sat on public benches and stared at completely ordinary lampposts, and nodded knowingly at random statues like he was a historian on vacation.

    By the time he got to his hotel room, it was night. He locked the door, pulled the curtains, and flopped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. But Noel didn''t have time to nap¡ª he had business to attend to. He waited until the clock struck midnight (because, duh, midnight''s the spooky hour), then turned himself into a shadow, which was hands-down his favorite party trick.

    Sliding under doors and skimming past light sources like a stealthy pancake, Noel made his way to the church. People were still inside the church and praying, because well... this was the church of night after all, what better time to pray than the night.

    But his destination was something else, searching through the nooks and crannies while avoiding both light and people¡ª he finally found an open secret chamber. It was not meant to be open like this, he knew this and wanted to retreat, but despite his best urges¡ª curiosity killed the cat. Maybe one of the members forgot to close the door.

    Inside, he expected to find all sorts of ominous things: robed cultists chanting in senseless tongues, creepy statues that followed him with their eyes, and maybe even a cat doing that weird thing where it stares at nothing and hisses. But nope. The place was emptier than his fridge back home.

    Noel floated around, checking every nook and cranny. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not even a cobweb. "Well, this is anticlimactic," he muttered, forgetting for a moment that shadows don''t usually talk. Deciding it was best not to press his luck, he turned to leave.

    Except there was one small problem: the door was gone. As in, poof, vanished, adios. He stared at the blank wall where the entrance used to be, his brain doing cartwheels. "Okay, Noel," he whispered to himself, "you''ve been in worse situations. Like that time you got stuck in the outhouse during a thunderstorm. This is just like that, but with more stupid curiosity."

    Realizing he was trapped, Noel did the only logical thing: he sat down, pulled out the mug he''d bought earlier from his shadow, and pretended to drink tea from it while muttering, "I''m so glad I paid a whole sten for this."

    Whatever happened, Noel knew panicking would only worsen things, he needed a plan to get out.

 Chapter 152 When things get too bright and you cant even see your own shadow

    "He''s in!" Judge exclaimed, leaping from his grandiose throne made from a stone statue remains like a cat pouncing on a laser pointer.

    "Alright, I''ll tie him up," Seraphis muttered, adjusting the hilt of her sheathed sword as though it were an unruly child. "Seriously though, not killing is way harder than just finishing him off." She stepped forward with the nonchalant grace of someone doing their least favorite chore. The corpses strewn about might as well have been inconvenient laundry piles.

    Judge snapped his fingers, and they both were transported into the studio. The entire scene shifted like a bad magic trick. One moment, it was all blood and guts; the next, it was an oppressive, unnatural darkness. Everything¡ª the walls, the floor, the bodies¡ª vanished into the void, leaving Judge and Seraphis glowing faintly like awkward lightbulbs.

    "Judge," Seraphis said, her tone dripping with "Are you even listening to yourself?" energy.

    "Hmm?" Judge replied, his grin as smug as ever.

    "You said he could control and turn into shadows, right?" Her eyebrow arched high enough to be an Olympic contender.

    "Indeed," Judge said, as if presenting an obvious fact like water being wet. "That''s the whole idea. Drop his guard, make him overconfident, then BAM! We pull the rug¡ª or in this case, the shadows¡ª right out from under him."

    Seraphis rolled her eyes. "And this genius plan of yours¡ª does it involve you actually doing anything useful?"

    Judge smirked. "Master, I orchestrate. You execute. It''s called delegation."

    "You asked me to just trust you, But how did that... quote¡ª "Extremely careful guy" go into the door when there was a chance that it might shut behind him?"

    "Ahh, that!" Judge smirked. He did not wear a mask, he wanted his face for the finale, "I can give him a little nudge, not like a puppet master thing, but enough to make him think it''s his own actions."

    Seraphis sighed, muttering something unflattering under her breath. "Fine. Let''s get this over with."

    Judge clapped his hands. "Music to my ears! And don''t worry¡ª I can''t control you even if I wanted to."

    With a snap of his fingers, they teleported finest to Noel who was also pulled in with them. There, amidst the oppressive darkness, stood Noel Rivet. His form was tense, his sharp eyes narrowing as he noticed Seraphis.

    Woman... White hair, red eyes, a sword, he thought, fingers twitching. She''s definitely not from around here. What kind of power does she have?

    Noel''s thoughts cut short as he straightened and summoned his shadows, tendrils swirling around him like snakes ready to strike. With a smooth motion, he reached into the void and drew a long, wicked knife, its edge gleaming ominously. "Let''s dance," he muttered.

    Seraphis tilted her head, unimpressed. "A knife? How quaint. What''s next, a sternly worded letter?"

    Noel didn''t bother responding. He lunged forward, shadows surging to envelop Seraphis like a tidal wave. She sidestepped with the ease of someone dodging a slow-moving toddler, her sheathed sword smashing down on the incoming blade with a thunderous clang. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Nice try," she said, smirking. "But you''re going to need more than shadows and attitude."

    Noel smirked back, his confidence was at max. The shadows surged again, forming jagged spikes that shot toward her. She spun and weaved through the assault, her movements almost lazy. With a quick strike, her sheathed sword shattered one of the spikes, sending fragments scattering.

    "You''re quick," she admitted. "I''ll give you that. But you''re a one-trick pony."

    Noel growled. "We''ll see about that."

    Before Seraphis could respond, Judge clapped his hands, and the entire scene changed. The oppressive darkness was ripped away, replaced by a blinding, endless expanse of pure white. It was as if the Studio itself had decided to scrub the world clean of shadows.

    Noel froze for a split second as his shadows evaporated like morning mist, but even more surprising was the fact that he did not notice the boy until now. His knife still gleamed in his hand, but his primary weapon¡ª his domain¡ª was gone.

    "Oops! Did I forget to mention this part?" Judge called out cheerfully from a newly conjured lounge chair. "My bad!"

    Noel''s eyes darted around, his mind racing. A complete domain?! Who is this boy? Seems like I have to get through him to end the domain. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

    Without hesitation, Noel pressed a small device hidden in his glove. A deafening explosion rocked the void as blinding shards of light burst out, aimed directly at Seraphis. She raised her sheathed sword, the blade absorbing the brunt of the impact as she slid backward.

    "Oh, so you do have other tricks," she said, her tone somewhere between impressed and annoyed. "Let''s see how far they get you."

    Noel charged, his movements swift and unpredictable. His knife slashed toward her, forcing her to parry and dodge in rapid succession. Each clash of their weapons sent clang through the endless white void. Noel pulled a small vial from his belt, smashing it on the ground. A thick, noxious gas erupted, obscuring the area.

    "Cute," Seraphis muttered, her voice muffled by the haze. She closed her eyes, relying on her other senses. The faint whistle of a blade cutting through the air alerted her, and she sidestepped just as Noel''s knife sliced past her shoulder.

    "You''re fast," Noel admitted, his voice coming from multiple directions as he darted around her. "But speed isn''t everything."

    Seraphis smirked. "No, it''s not. But skill is."

    With a burst of speed, she closed the distance between them, her sheathed sword slamming into his knife with enough force to knock it from his hand. Noel stumbled back, pulling another device from his belt. A burst of energy shot toward her, but she deflected it effortlessly, the sheath of her sword glowing faintly.

    "Running out of tricks?" she asked, her tone mocking.

    Noel gritted his teeth. "Not even close."

    He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small orb, throwing it to the ground. It shattered, releasing a swarm of mechanical drones that swirled around Seraphis, firing small but relentless energy blasts. She ducked and dodged, her sword moving in a blur as she destroyed the drones one by one.

    "This is getting tedious," she said, her patience wearing thin.

    Noel lunged again, this time with a pair of hidden blades springing from his gloves. Seraphis sidestepped, her sheathed sword sweeping low to trip him. He fell but rolled to his feet instantly, throwing a series of punches and kicks that she deflected with ease.

    Finally, as Noel began to slow, his movements growing desperate, Seraphis decided it was time to end the fight. She jumped back from Noel, who made no effort to rashly go after her, and decided to observe.

    She held the sword horizontally in front of her, "Good going, kid." She muttered as she slowly unsheathed the red blade. Red mist flowed out with a strong scent of blood. The air grew thick from the pure will Seraphis leaked out without being able to contain while drawing her blade.

    Chi no Kiri...

 Chapter 153 The Blood mist, without the blood

    "Chi no Kiri,"

    Seraphis whispered, her voice as faint as a secret shared between two toddlers conspiring to steal candy. The fog that had been theatrically oozing out like a cheap haunted house trick suddenly vanished, but the overpowering scent of fresh blood decided to stick around¡ªno, scratch that¡ªit practically threw a party in the room, it intensified, like a chef aggressively seasoning a dish because they "have a vision.".

    Noel, bless his ambitious little soul, lunged forward with a dramatic flair that screamed "I''m the main character!" It was not a rash movement, but a calculated rush with eyes on every side and mind anticipating the next attack before it was even made.

    He was a man on a mission¡ªa mission that lasted precisely 2.3 seconds before his whole body locked up-swing like someone who suddenly remembered they left the oven on. His eyes went wide, terror etched across his face as if he''d just realized he''d accidentally sent an embarrassing text to the wrong group chat. His momentum froze like an overly enthusiastic dancer caught in a flash freeze.

    "What the¡ª" Noel''s expletive was cut short as an invisible force gripped him with the tenderness of a rabid grizzly bear. His eyes widened in terror, his face contorting as if someone had told him his favorite coffee shop had permanently closed.

    As the invisible force gripped him, twisting and churning inside like he was an old sponge in a dishwasher. He screamed¡ªa raw, guttural sound that could rival a tone-deaf opera singer auditioning for a lead role¡ªbefore crumpling to the ground like a sack of poorly packed laundry. He could have earned himself a recording contract with a death metal band. His knife clattered beside him, a sad little "plink" that screamed, "Well, I tried."

    Judge, ever the connoisseur of mess, rose from his lounge chair, slow-clapping like an over-the-top movie villain.

    "Bravo, Master. Bravo. Truly, an exquisite performance. If this were a talent show, I''d give you a solid nine out of ten¡ªone point deducted for the lack of pyrotechnics."

    Seraphis gave him a sidelong glance as she sheathed her sword with the kind of grace that would make a swan feel self-conscious. "You talk too much."

    "And yet, here we are," Judge replied with a sweeping bow, snapping his fingers, a few glowing chains materialized around Noel with all the casual elegance of someone ordering room service, binding him tighter than a poorly wrapped Christmas gift.

    Turning to Seraphis, he grinned. "So, Master, did you enjoy the show? Was it a five-star performance, or did it lack a certain... charm?"

    Seraphis, the portrait of nonchalance, sheathed her sword with... an impressive nonchalance. "It was decent. He''s resourceful, but honestly, his reliance on gadgets is going to get him killed. Case in point: this." She gestured at the barely conscious Noel, who groaned weakly like a man regretting all his life choices at once.

    "Fair critique," Judge replied, stroking his chin like a philosopher pondering the meaning of life, or perhaps just debating pizza toppings. "Although, I think he deserves points for effort. That scream alone was Oscar-worthy."

    "Oscar-worthy? What is Oscar?"

    "It''s a prize for theatre actors, but never mind that, you probably have no interest in it."

    "...Yeah I lost interest. Anyway back to the topic at hand¡ªno matter what happens, he will die in a few days," Seraphis continued, plopping into a chair that materialized behind her as if summoned by the sheer force of her indifference. "Two weeks tops. Somone as weak as him can''t endure beyond that."

    "Well, that''s... comforting," Judge muttered, glancing at the unconscious Noel. "But, you know, it''s okay even if he kicks the bucket. He hasn''t truly suffered yet. Gotta keep the drama going, right?"

    Seraphis nodded sagely. "His domain is incomplete. If it were finished, he might''ve pulled off an escape. But of course, you already knew that, didn''t you?"

    Read new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

    Judge coughed awkwardly. "Uh... absolutely. Yep. Totally knew that. One hundred percent." But Judge was confident in one thing¡ª if He did not have those skills that Clio gave him, then he could never win against Noel with his current strength.

    Seraphis rolled her eyes, slipping into teacher mode like a professor explaining calculus to a room full of students who thought they signed up for pottery class. "His domain connects to shadows. A completed version would let him pull people into them, control them, and do all sorts of creepy shadow-puppet nonsense."

    "Neat," Judge nodded, trying his best to look like he wasn''t just winging this whole "knowledgeable mentor" thing.

    "And your domain," Seraphis continued, her gaze locking onto him, "is... well, let''s just say it''s something I''ve never seen before. It''s like the all-purpose Army knife of domains. Really makes you wonder how the heck it works." S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge froze mid-sip of his hot chocolate. "Uhh... it''s... complicated. Like, really complex stuff. Hard to explain. Might involve quantum... something."

    "Uh-huh," Seraphis deadpanned, clearly identifying the lie but too tired to argue.

    The two exited the studio together, leaving poor Noel chained up like a cautionary tale for aspiring adventurers.

    Back in the comfort of their lavish quarters, Seraphis sat on a couch that looked suspiciously more comfortable than any couch had the right to be. A towering stack of books loomed beside her, and Judge honestly had no clue when she became such an avid reader¡ªor if she even read them at all. For all he knew, she could''ve been building a book fort.

    "So, Judge," she said, flipping through a book that looked way too dense for casual reading. "Tell me about your..." She wiggled her fingers dramatically, "...Master Plan."

    Judge, ever the picture of seriousness (well, as serious as one can be with a mug that says World''s Okayest Overlord in his hand), sighed deeply. "Master, let me finish my drink before I start. Genius takes time, and so does this hot chocolate."

    "Fair enough," Seraphis said, leaning back with a smirk. "I''ve got time. Don''t disappoint me. Again."

 Chapter 154 Behind the scenes, the creator pulls an all-nighter

    Now, boot up the time machine and crank those gears to the past, when Victor¡ª dashing in his good ol'' carriage¡ª lounged like a budget prince. He had his triangular hat tipped at just the right angle, aiming for "serious" but landing squarely in "midlife crisis chic." His eyes, however, were glued to the man across from him.

    This man wasn''t just a guy; oh no. He was The Guy. He wore a white mask that practically screamed, "Guess what? I know where you hid your embarrassing secrets, and I''ve got all day to leak them to the world."

    Victor''s heart did its best impression of a drumroll. Skip, skip, thud¡ª was that the rhythm of his demise? He wasn''t sure. He just knew this stranger had the kind of vibe that could make the most hardened mercenary reconsider their life choices and possibly take up knitting. Enjoy exclusive chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

    The masked man lounged like he owned not just the carriage but probably the road and maybe even the horses pulling them. One arm dangled casually out the window, a posture that said, "Yeah, I''m here, and no, you can''t handle me." When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth as butter, but colder than a witch''s heart in winter.

    "Oh¡­ you seem worried," the man drawled, the smugness in his tone was thick enough to spread on toast. "Care to share what''s on your mind? If it''s about running, don''t. I''m only here to chat."

    Victor clung to his triangular hat like it might transform into a weapon or, failing that, a comforting blankie. His throat turned into a desert, and his brain had taken the first stagecoach out of town. "Who are you?" he managed to croak, all the while trying to summon the courage to grab his pistol. Spoiler alert: the courage wasn''t picking up its phone.

    The man tilted his head like a predator sizing up its next meal. "Ah, yes, introductions," he mused, with a pause so long it could''ve been its own chapter, but couldn''t be published due to lack of words. "You may call me¡­ Lucifer."

    Victor''s instinct was to laugh¡ª because, honestly, who introduces themselves like a drama queen at a masquerade?¡ª but the sheer menace in Lucifer''s tone froze the laugh in his throat.

    "I have something you want," Lucifer said, his tone as confident as a con artist with a winning hand. "Information."

    Victor blinked. "About¡­?"

    "Your enemy," Lucifer replied with a devilish grin that, though hidden by the mask, was unmistakable in his voice. "I''ve been chasing the same foe for years. And I can give you everything you need to know to destroy them."

    Victor perked up. "What''s the catch?" He''d played enough poker to know you didn''t get a winning hand for free.

    Lucifer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Simple. Work for us to fight the enemy. My organization will hire you. Power, resources, and knowledge would be at your disposal. You''ll be almost indomitable."

    Victor hesitated, eyeing the stranger like a cat assessing a particularly suspicious-looking box. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lucifer raised a hand, his voice solemn. "I swear on Veritas, the God of Light and Truth, that the information I speak to you will be the absolute truth... Now, will you work for us?"

    Power-hungry Victor took the bait. His greed screamed louder than his common sense. He had nothing to lose since he was familiar with being a hired assassin, and he could return after beating the enemy. And he could get power that money can''t buy, the person in front of him was proof of incredible power

    "Deal." he did not have to think much.

    "Excellent." Lucifer leaned back with the smug satisfaction of a cat who just knocked a vase off the counter. "Let me tell you what you''re up against. The Church of Night¡ª it''s them. They''re the ones who most likely hired your little assassination organization to target the young lady of the Drakonis house. And they''ve got a shapeshifter under their thumb¡ª goes by the name Alexis. He might be the one you are looking for."

    Victor''s eyes widened. "A shapeshifter? Are you sure?"

    Lucifer nodded gravely. "The very same. This information comes at a great cost. It was a trail of blood and madness that led me here. A dear underling of mine named Satan lost someone close to him. Gruesome, unspeakable. The Church of Night leaves no loose ends. They will erase every scrap of evidence tying them to their crimes, you know about the attack on your organization''s branch right? You''ll want to tread carefully."

    Victor swallowed hard, his mind whirring like an overworked steam engine.

    "Oh," Lucifer added offhandedly, standing up and straightening his coat, "one last thing. I will give you a church of night''s location that is designated as a target, it is not a dangerous one but tread carefully. And I do not care if it is someone else who goes in your stead. In fact, I support sending someone who could move skillfully around the shadows."

    Lucifer held out his hand and a mask similar to his materialized on his palm. "Wear this mask, and think of observing the world¡ª you will become intangible even by the common eye. This is our first gift."

    Victor held out his hands like a quirky five year old and took the smiley mask. He did not immediately wear it, something told him not to. His heart stopped beat boxing and started to function normally again.

    Lucifer was not done yet, "Just will for the mask and it would appear in your hands, make sure to give one to whoever you are hiring."

    With that, Lucifer tipped his black top hat, stood up, made sure his black tailcoat looked the part, stepped forward, and vanished into thin air, leaving Victor with a head full of questions about how deep this went and a slip of paper with the location written, and also a note that read¡ª "Be extra careful, they could watch you at unexpected times".

    Victor sat there, clutching the information as though it was a lifeline, not realizing he''d just volunteered himself as Lucifer''s pawn.

    Lucifer had only sworn to tell the truth about the information, and all he told was the truth, but he did not tell information about the actual enemy Victor was actually chasing¡ª Judge. A slight wordplay in the promise that Victor failed to notice. Effectively turning Victor''s attention from chasing more clues regarding the attack to the church of night.

    And all this?... It was orchestrated by Judge''s script that he wrote after taking an all-nighter in his room with just a lantern and a few papers. Man, talk about commitment.

 Chapter 155 When mass murder is yesterdays news, but biscuits are todays battleground.

    "So, let me get this straight," Seraphis began, holding her coffee cup with both hands like it was the only thing tethering her to sanity. Her expression was a mix of exasperation and disbelief, the kind of look you give someone who just told you they solved a murder using a Ouija board.

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    "You can write a script that your underlings follow like actors in a play, complete with you as the director? And you''re saying that if I, for some inexplicable reason, decided to work for you or one of your minions, I''d also be roped into this... script circus?"

    "You''re absolutely right," Judge said, flashing a grin so confident it could sell snake oil to a snake. "And that''s why I told you I could never control you, even if I wanted to. Which, let''s be honest, I don''t. Way too much effort."

    They were sitting in Seraphis''s living room, which was less a "living" room and more a "barely surviving" room, with mismatched furniture and a few suspicious stains on the carpet that no one dared to question. Despite the cozy setup, their conversation was anything but casual.

    They were just having coffee and snacks as if they had not just committed mass murder just a single day ago. Seraphis, however, seemed unbothered by the moral quandaries surrounding their actions.

    She was aggressively eating the plate of biscuits with the zeal of someone settling a lifelong grudge against carbohydrates. Anyone would tell that she had a personal vendetta aginst baked goods.

    "Alright," she said, pausing only to obliterate another biscuit in her mouth, "let''s dissect this so-called ''grand master plan'' of yours. I''d hate to overlook any of your brilliantly chaotic genius while I''m busy waging this snack-based war."

    She held up one finger. "First, you wiped out an entire branch of ¡ª what were they, freelance murderers? Shadowy Death Club? ¡ª Whatever, after ensuring that anyone who could''ve whipped your sorry back was conveniently out of town.

    Then you got intel on a shapeshifter commissioning the mission to off your sister, and another shapeshifter who just happened to be loitering in the Church of Night, thanks to your sneaky underling. Who was probably hanging out in the Church and sipping holy water cocktails or whatever shapeshifters do for fun."

    Judge nodded, sipping his coffee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    "But riddle me this, Judge," Seraphis said, jabbing a biscuit in his direction like a tiny, edible sword. "How did you know it was a shapeshifter? For all I know, it could''ve been an illusion, or a hologram, or maybe just someone really, really good at cosplay."

    Judge smirked, leaning back in his chair as if preparing to drop some earth-shattering wisdom. He tilted his head and gave her a look that screamed, I''m smarter than I look, which is saying something.

    "Because, my dear master, most assassins ¡ª most ¡ª can tell the difference between illusion and reality. It''s kind of a job requirement. Trust me, if it were an illusion, the worker that the police oficer interrogated would''ve said something like, ''Hey, that guy looked like me but all wibbly-wobbly.'' Instead, he straight-up said, ''That was another me.'' Big difference. Trust me, this stuff is assassin logic 101."

    Seraphis stared at him, her expression somewhere between confused and annoyed. "Uh-huh," she said, nodding slowly as if she understood, though her tone screamed I have no idea what you''re talking about.

    "Moving on," she said, ticking off more points on her fingers. "You had your underling keep tabs on Victor until he sent a letter to Noel Rivet ¡ª your real target ¡ª before making your move."

    "Mhm," Judge hummed, sipping his coffee with the kind of smugness only someone with a borderline insane plan could muster.

    "Then, you wrote a script for this Lucifer guy ¡ª who I can only assume is as extra as his name ¡ª and twisted the words in the promise you made to him. You gave him truthful information but in a way that conveniently pointed him toward the Church of Night and this shapeshifter Alexis.

    Then, you threw in a casual, ''Oh, I don''t care if someone else goes after the church instead of you, totally cool with it. I''d even encourage someone who moves skillfully in the shadows'' Which, to normal people, sounds like you''re asking for a skilled assassin, but to Victor? It screams Noel."

    Judge nodded again as Seraphis continued her animated recap. With the special flashback effect... just so everyone knows that it is a flashback.

    "Then, using your scripts, you made Victor recruit Noel. Also, as if that was not enough, you even recruited his wife, Isadora Rivet, to your merry band of underlings. By writing a script for Noel nonetheless, I just realized how much crazy you are.

    And ¡ª because you''re apparently the love child of a playwright and a mad scientist ¡ª you figured out how to tweak the memories of people bound by your contracts. So you made Noel forget that he dragged his wife into this mess. And then, because why not, you sent Noel straight to us. Did I miss anything?"

    "Nope," Judge said cheerfully, sipping his coffee like a man without a care in the world.

    "But why," Seraphis asked, narrowing her eyes, "did you make Noel forget about his wife? What''s the big idea there?"

    Judge leaned forward, setting his coffee down with the gravity of someone about to deliver a TED Talk. "Because, Master, separation anxiety is a powerful tool. I used Lucifer to plant seeds of doubt previously. And the separation makes her think that she has been abandoned by her loving husband after their fight for the past few days.

    What''s more ¡ª the assassin organization only sees her as a tool, except Noel of course. If it was accidentally revealed to her that the organization that took her in sees her only as a tool and nothing more, she is gonna really leave him even if she loved him, there are arrangements to make her think that he too, sees her as nothing but a tool."

    Seraphis blinked, then picked up another biscuit and bit into it with the kind of rage that suggested she was imagining Judge''s face on it. "You''re a menace, Judge. An absolute menace."

    "Aw, thanks, Master," Judge replied with a wink. "I do try to be one."

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 Chapter 156 The seed of doubt

    Lucifer stood in front of the room, his mind clouded with the weight of the last two days. He had not visited yesterday, as the protection period had ended two days ago. But today, as per his master''s command, he was back.

    He did not know why he was sent back or why he was instructed to talk to this woman for two whole days. The manner of his speech was not something he would say to a complete stranger, but it was not an unlikely occurrence either.

    For two days, he had supported the woman''s doubts about her husband abandoning her, strengthening her belief of dumping and hate towards her husband. It was like planting a seed of doubt, now he might be back here to check if had been bloomed.

    "You would know what to do when you get there." The quote from the recorder echoed in his mind. It had been an easy task, but he marveled at the precision his master wielded. The conversation had flowed from his lips naturally, without effort.

    Lucifer knocked lightly on the door, three short taps, the sound barely breaking the silence of the corridor. Almost immediately, a thud followed by a clash reached his ears.

    Someone''s depressed, Lucifer thought.

    The door swung open abruptly, and there stood a woman, her face was a mess of tears that dried up a long time ago, her hair was a tangled mess. The heavy weight of her despair was clear, and Lucifer could tell the seed had taken root. The doubts were now fully grown.

    "Why are you here?" Her voice was small, defeated. She barely seemed able to stand on her own, as if the weight of the world had crushed her spirit.

    Lucifer, feeling a momentary tinge of sympathy for her, cleared his throat and responded, "I just came to check up on you, just in case your husband hasn''t returned. I booked the room for two more days, you see, and today''s the checkout."

    "Oh..." Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging as if the little strength she had left was draining away. "I... see."

    Lucifer sighed, silently facepalming, though his mask prevented any real expression. This was not going how he had hoped. But he pushed forward, his voice light as he tried to ease the tension. "Wanna go out for a stroll?" he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

    "To where?" Her voice was tinged with confusion and weariness.

    "Let''s head to the Church of Shadows. That''s where the assassin organization is, right?" He forced a smile, trying to inject some cheer into the situation, but the mask was already smiling. It felt hollow, but he pushed through.

    She blinked, but her expression crumpled as the walls of self-defense she had been barely holding together cracked. "Yes? But why... he... he already..." Her voice broke, and the tears that had only just begun to dry flooded back. Her shoulders shook violently as her cry became louder, her words barely distinguishable through her sobs. "He already left me."

    Lucifer stood there, watching her collapse, her heart shattered in an instant. She hadn''t realized the impact of his manipulation driven by his master, and in that moment, he saw the true power of doubt.

    He had never realized how sharp, how utterly lethal doubt could be. It hadn''t broken her all at once; it had crept in like a shadow, darkening her love and twisting her thoughts until she saw betrayal where there was none. Now, as he watched her crumble under the weight of what she believed, he saw the true devastation¡ªhow easily doubt could transform lies into reality.

    The quiet sobs of the woman continued to echo in his ears as Lucifer led her out of the room, her tears still fresh on her face. Despite the emotional outburst, Lucifer knew this was only the beginning. Whatever His master''s plan was, it was unfolding perfectly, and the woman was only a piece of the puzzle.

    But for now, he would follow through with whatever came to his mind. His absolute trust in his master had been reinforced.

    As they stepped into the bustling city streets, the sharp contrast between the woman''s fragile state and the liveliness of the shopping district hit Lucifer like a slap in the face. The street was alive with chatter, the air thick with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the distant hum of the market. Merchants shouted their wares, and children dashed through the crowds, their laughter filling the air. It was a world full of life, but for her, it might as well have been a distant memory.

    "Come on," Lucifer said softly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them. "A walk in the city will clear your mind."

    She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking up at him as though she was struggling to grasp the situation. "I... I don''t know. I don''t feel like doing anything anymore. Everything is... everything is falling apart." Her voice was fragile, her words cracking under the weight of her emotions.

    Lucifer turned to face her, his eyes hidden behind the mask, but his tone softer than it had been before. "I get it. You are hurt, but sometimes you need to step outside, breathe in the air, and remember that the world doesn''t stop just because we hurt. Trust me, I wouldn''t be out here if I didn''t think it might help." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She hesitated, then nodded slowly, as if searching for a reason to keep moving forward. They walked in silence through the narrow, cobblestone streets, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the market. People walked past, their lives going on as normal, while she remained trapped in the suffocating grip of her grief.

    "Everything here... it''s so normal," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "As if nothing''s changed. As if... he hasn''t left me."

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    Lucifer didn''t respond immediately. He simply watched the people around them, the vendors peddling their goods, the street performers trying to catch a passerby''s attention. It was a facade, a carefully constructed layer of normality over the chaos beneath. But for the woman, it was a reminder of how out of place she felt now.

    Finally, he spoke, his voice a little distant. "People move on. Even when they don''t want to, they do."

    She stopped walking, her eyes scanning the lively streets, the life around her feeling almost too loud, too bright. Her shoulders trembled, and she clenched her fists at her sides. "But I can''t move on," she whispered. "Not after everything. He... he was my everything. And now... now I''m alone."

    Lucifer didn''t have an answer for her. He couldn''t offer her comfort through words alone, and he he knew. All he could do was let her walk through the motions of this empty stroll, hoping the distraction of the city would somehow ease the pain she felt.

    But suddenly, his body moved without much thought, as if he had been possessed by a ghost. A ghost that offered comfort. He hugged her ever so slightly, "It might not mean much to you, but I have been in the same state, and there was no one. I''ve been through loneliness, but this too shall pass. And good days may come."

    Isadora looked up at him silently, she wiped and her tears and hugged him back strongly. All she wanted now was a place of comfort in this world that had left her all alone.

    As they walked, Lucifer couldn''t help but wonder if she''d ever fully recovered. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn''t. But that wasn''t his problem. He had already played his part.

    And the seed of doubt had already taken root.

 Chapter 157 A church too big for its own good, who makes these?

    Both Lucifer and Isadora came to a screeching halt¡ª metaphorically, of course. Standing before the grandiose Church of Shadows. The building had a vibe like it knew it was the coolest church on the block, with its sleek shadow carvings that seemed to wiggle and dance when you weren''t looking directly at them¡ª honestly, kind of show-off-y for a place of worship.

    It was a spot where believers and non-believers alike could stroll in or out like it was a park on a sunny afternoon, no questions asked.

    This was in sharp contrast to its snooty cousin, the Church of Night, where you couldn''t just waltz in without going through a full-blown conversion process. Those guys made you swear loyalty, light a candle, and possibly sign a contract in blood before you were even allowed to peek inside. Real members-only club energy over there.

    Lucifer adjusted his cloak dramatically like he was about to give a TED Talk, because, of course, he did¡ª and turned to Isadora. "Summon the mask that Noel gave you. I am the one who gave it to Victor."

    Isadora blinked, looking like someone had just asked her to recite the alphabet backward. "But I don''t know how. It just¡­ vanished after a while when¡­" She sniffled a bit, her face now free of earlier tears, though her voice still wobbled like jelly on a too-small plate. "¡­When Noel gave it to me."

    "It''s not your average mask, Isadora," Lucifer sighed the kind of sigh you only hear from parents trying to explain Wi-Fi to their kids and explained with the patience of a teacher dealing with a particularly clueless student. "This one''s special. You can summon it by sheer willpower¡ª no magic words or awkward hand gestures needed. Oh, and fun bonus: You can make copies of it for others to wear if they agree to work for you. A real two-for-one deal." Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Oh¡­" Isadora tilted her head like a confused puppy. Then, as if flipping a switch, she held her hand out, and a white mask with a big ol'' smiley face appeared out of thin air. "So that''s why he asked if I wanted to work for him."

    Lucifer raised a brow beneath his mask (probably). "Who? Noel?"

    "Yeah." She plopped the mask onto her face and pulled her hood up like she was getting ready for a low-budget heist.

    "Good." He gave a short, approving nod. "Now, before we go in, I need you to think of yourself as just an observer of the world. Pretend the world and you have nothing to do with each other. Like, absolutely nothing. You''re just here to watch the chaos unfold."

    "Huh?" Isadora didn''t yell, but she was clearly surprised, the sheer confusion in her tone could''ve shattered glass. "Why would I do that?"

    "It''s how you slip in without being spotted," Lucifer replied with the air of someone who had explained this exact thing 47 times today. exactly 47 times, no less... but probably more... guess?

    "Oh¡­ okay. Wait, what do I do again?"

    Lucifer groaned, dragging a hand down his face¡ª or rather, his mask. "Just imagine the world as a story and yourself as the reader. Or the world as a play, and you''re the audience. It''s really not rocket science, Isadora."

    "Got it," she said, nodding like she totally didn''t not get it. She took a deep breath, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk''s. "Okay. Here goes nothing."

    She closed her eyes, focusing hard enough to pop a vein, and thought of herself as nothing more than a spectator¡ª nothing but an observer of the world, a reader of a story, and a spectator of a theater drama. Watching and remembering all that the author called fate had laid in the world in front of her.

    And just like that, poof. She vanished into thin air, her form became as transparent as a politician''s promise. Lucifer followed her lead with an eye-roll so powerful it could''ve powered a small village.

    The Church of Shadows loomed before them, its towering columns gleaming so brightly in the sunlight that sunglasses probably should''ve been mandatory. The carvings of shadows¡ª actual, moving shadows¡ª seemed to shift and twist as the pair approached, as if they were alive. Maybe they were. In this world, who even knew anymore?

    The staircase leading to the entrance sprawled out like a dramatic runway, practically screaming, "Bow down to my architectural greatness!" Despite it not being a holiday, the place was packed. A sea of people milled about¡ª some entering, some leaving, some just loitering like they''d accidentally wandered in while looking for a coffee shop.

    "Stick close to me," Lucifer''s voice dropped to w whisper, "and remember that my lord can see you when you act as an observer, so try not to lose your image in front of him."

    "What?! So like, can he see me at other times now that I''ve used it?"

    "I doubt he can''t, after all, he is a god''s attendant. But he is only interested in the memories we observe."

    "A god''s attendant? tell me more."

    Lucifer didn''t bother to explain further. Instead, he marched up the staircase, the polished steps reflecting his every move like a particularly judgy mirror. "Let''s go," he said, his voice firm. "And remember, observer mode only. No funny business."

    "Define ''funny business,''" Isadora muttered under her breath, unsatisfied with the lack of explanation, but she continued following close behind.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Time moved at the pace of a bored snail as Lucifer and Isadora floated around like two particularly nosy ghosts at a haunted house convention. Yes, they were ghosting around ironically¡ª because the Church of Shadows was all about shadows, not spooks, but hey, life''s funny like that.

    Their mission was simple: float through walls, avoid bumping into anything embarrassing (like a congregation mid-prayer), and sniff out some juicy intel on Noel Rivet¡ª his mission, his whereabouts, and maybe his favorite sandwich, if that turned out to be relevant. Assassins supposedly gathered here, and while most people would rather not crash an assassin party, here were Lucifer and Isadora, treating it like a casual Tuesday.

    They''d floated through the same room three times already. Three! By now, the walls, made of smooth-cut stones set a few inches apart and held together by concrete, were starting to feel like old friends. The room''s symmetrical design, identical to three other office-like rooms they''d passed earlier, was mocking them with its uncanny copy-paste vibe. Was this the entrance to the assassin HQ? Or just the janitor''s closet of doom? Who knew?

    Lucifer, brimming with the kind of confidence only someone lost in a labyrinth could muster, floated forward to check again. He pushed through one of the walls and¡­ boom. He was in the grand prayer hall. "Alright, onward to the next room!" he announced with the enthusiasm of a man pretending he hadn''t just failed again.

    Isadora floated nearby, her hands on her spectral hips, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Don''t you think you should check all four walls first? You know, just in case?" she suggested, her words dripping with the gentle sass of someone who''d been dealing with this for far too long.

    "Try it if you want," Lucifer said, floating back into the room as if daring her to prove him wrong. "But I''ve got a very confident feeling this isn''t the room."

    "Fine, I''ll do it," Isadora declared, zipping around like a supernatural Roomba, inspecting the remaining two walls with determination, excluding the entrance and the wall Lucifer inspected.

    A minute later, she floated back, her face a little sheepish, like someone who''d just realized they''d been arguing with the GPS while driving in circles. "Uh¡­ you were right." She cleared her throat, slapped on a quick smile, and raised her voice with newfound determination. "Alright, onward to the next room!"

    Lucifer''s mask tilted ever so slightly, as if raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You look way too cheerful for someone who''s just been dumped recently."

    Isadora waved a dramatic hand through the air, clearly in denial. "I''ve decided not to live in the past!" she declared like she was auditioning for a soap opera. Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "...But it still hurts, you know."

    Lucifer sighed like Judge does, the kind of deep, weary sigh reserved for babysitting emotionally volatile ghosts.

    Without another word, he floated toward the next room, taking a left from the prayer hall''s entrance. Truth be told, he already knew where the entrance was. He''d known the whole time. But if he just waltzed in like he owned the place, Isadora would''ve started asking questions. Questions he had no interest in answering. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire

    Right on cue, Isadora floated up beside him, her curiosity practically glowing. "Don''t you guys already know the entrance? You work together, after all."

    Lucifer''s inner monologue groaned so loudly it probably echoed in the astral plane. Not necessary after all, huh? There goes my precious time, wasted on an unnecessary church tour. Thanks, fate! He coughed in a very sophisticated, Judge-like manner and replied smoothly, "We''re not exactly best friends. Just¡­ partners. Partners with a common goal to take down a foe. We''re not close enough to share details about secret doors and the like."

    "Huh." Isadora nodded with the expression of someone who didn''t get it but decided it wasn''t worth the brainpower to ask follow-up questions. "I see."

    Finally, they entered the next room. Lucifer, not wasting a second, floated to the walls and began poking his way through like a ghostly detective. It didn''t take long. By the second wall, he found what they''d been looking for¡ª a dark passage hidden within. "Found it!" he announced, his tone triumphant, like he''d just solved a Rubik''s Cube blindfolded.

    Isadora didn''t wait for further instruction. She zipped through the wall behind him, her ghostly form moving with all the eagerness of someone finally ditching the world''s most boring tour guide.

 Chapter 158 This is not going to end well is it?

    Lucifer and Isadora stepped into the room like they were auditioning for a role in Professional Trespassers: The Musical. Sure, they weren''t exactly invited, but the confidence was key. They had swagger, a mission, and apparently zero concerns about getting caught.

    "Now, Isadora," Lucifer began, with the tone of someone explaining a board game with way too many rules, "think of yourself as a part of the system again. You know, like you''re a normal human. Blend in. Breathe it. Be it."

    "Oh, sure," Isadora quipped, rolling her eyes like a pro. She took a deep breath and then reappeared in the room with the flourish of someone hoping for applause. "Doesn''t this place have any security?"

    "It has," Lucifer replied, already moving toward the shelves.

    "It has?!" Isadora echoed, her voice shooting up an octave in genuine shock. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, but since she was wearing her trusty mask, all she accomplished was smacking herself in the face.

    Lucifer gave her a cool nod, the kind that made you wonder if he practiced it in the mirror. "More like... had. The securities are all gone."

    "How?!" she demanded, lowering her voice this time as if suddenly remembering that stealth was part of the plan. "I thought you said you and the organization were just partners in crime. No ''tell me your deepest, darkest secrets about your evil lair'' level of close."

    Lucifer waved a hand dismissively, as though dismantling high-level security systems was a casual Tuesday activity. "Master struck Victor with a deal," he said, like that explained everything. "Trust me, that guy goes bonkers when it comes to anything related to getting stronger."

    Isadora snorted, her arms crossing as she leaned against the nearest shelf. "Yeah, that... he does," she admitted. "Guy would probably sell his soul for a two-percent increase in power."

    Lucifer arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable behind his own mask. "Who says he hasn''t?"

    "Wait, are you serious?" Isadora blinked at him, her tone walking the fine line between disbelief and mild concern.

    Lucifer didn''t answer immediately, instead turning his attention to a nearby shelf. "You know, some things are better left as mysteries. Like what exactly they mean by ''natural flavors'' in snacks."

    "Not the same thing," Isadora deadpanned, but she still followed him, her curiosity piqued. This whole operation was weird, and now she couldn''t help but wonder just how deep the rabbit hole went¡ª or if the rabbit was also Victor in disguise.

    The room was filled with a U-shaped table surrounded by twelve chairs, clearly an attempt at looking fancy but achieving only "Grandma''s outdated dining room chic." On an elevated platform was another table with a grand seat in the center, flanked by three slightly less grand seats on each side. The whole setup was just a big old¡ª "We''re important, and you''re not."

    But Lucifer and Isadora weren''t there to critique furniture or question why assassins needed such an elaborate meeting space¡ª maybe they debated murder strategies over catered lunch? Instead, they headed straight for the shelves, which housed mission reports, secrets, and undoubtedly some awkward office gossip.

    "Look at all this organization," Lucifer muttered, gesturing at the meticulously labeled files. "Even shady cult assassins know how to alphabetize. Meanwhile, I can''t find my socks half the time."

    Isadora rolled her eyes but stayed silent. She had no clue what Lucifer was doing but decided not to ask, partly because she didn''t want to admit she didn''t know what she was supposed to be doing.

    The room was loaded with safety mechanisms that would have made any spy movie proud¡ª pressure sensors, runic locks, and something that looked suspiciously like a magic laser.

    Fortunately, Victor, their friendly neighborhood double agent, had already disabled everything. Truly a team player, Victor, if you ignored his eventual planned disposal... No, Early retirement, would be a better word... two words.

    Lucifer quietly leafed through files, pretending to search for Noel''s mission details. In reality, he was casually checking out older batches of documents. Why? Who knows. Maybe he was hoping to stumble upon embarrassing baby photos of the church leaders. Meanwhile, Isadora browsed aimlessly, completely unaware of her partner''s not-so-noble intentions.

    Finally, Lucifer found what he was looking for. "Isadora!" he called, holding up a file triumphantly.

    "What?" Isadora snapped to attention, nearly dropping a folder she''d pulled. She hastily shoved it back into place and rushed over. "Did you find Noel''s file?"

    "Not exactly," Lucifer said with a grin that could light up a dark alley¡ª or maybe just creep out anyone who saw it. "This one''s about you."

    Isadora snatched the file, her curiosity instantly piqued. "Lemme see," she demanded, pulling it closer as they read it together.

    Subject 01167

    Name: Isadora Saight (Currently under the name Isadora Rivet)

    Age: 19

    Relation: Neutral (Controlled by ally)

    Origin: Lambar Village (Destroyed)

    Specialty (If any):

    Believed to have completely digested divine power from a Lunaflame flower that held divine strength due to unknown causes. To be kept under constant watch for any anomalies. Subject displays enhanced resilience and latent ethercraft potential linked to exposure to the Lunaflame. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Data:

    Valuable asset. Retrieved from the village following an incident resulting in the destruction of its population. Subject 01167 and Subject 01166 both having similar attributes were subjected to experimental ethercraft procedures. Subject 01166 had perished due to constant and consecutive experiments, with traces of the Subject''s divine power consolidating within Subject 01167. Further experiments suspended indefinitely to preserve asset viability, Subject 01167 had been noticed of Subject 01166''s unfortunate demise over an accident in the lab.

    The Subject displays psychological imprints associated with the Lunaflame, potentially due to childhood exposure and personal trauma linked to its significance. Mission details indicate Subject 01167 was placed under the guardianship of Master Noel Rivet through unspecified agreements involving debt repayment or leverage.

    Notes on Lambar Village: Incident caused significant loss of life (Reports suggest everyone in the village had been killed). Survivors reduced to Subject 01167 and Subject 01166 (deceased).

    The investigation results have revealed it to be done by the two holders of Lunaflame''s divine power. Post-incident evaluations indicate traces of advanced fire ethercraft manipulation at the site. Unverified accounts mention the continued blooming of the Lunaflame near the destruction, an anomaly that verifies previous thoughts of the involvement of a Lunaflame with divine power.

    Recommended Actions:

    Monitor the Subject for signs of destabilization or irregular ethercraft activity. Continue surveillance under Master Noel Rivet''s discretion. Limit direct interaction to prevent potential triggers related to the subject''s unresolved trauma.

    ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª

    The more Isadora read, the angrier she became. Her grip on the file tightened as if she might crush the paper through sheer indignation. "What is this?" she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. "If I am 01167, then 01166 should be my sister¡ª they KILLED her? It wasn''t an accident?"

    Lucifer frowned, genuinely surprised. "I thought Master mentioned something about documents showing you were being used, but¡­ this? This is straight-up mad scientist territory."

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    "''Posing as my husband''?" Isadora spat, her eyes blazing with fury. "Noel asked me to marry him. That wasn''t part of some shady deal!"

    Lucifer gave her a sidelong glance. "You sure about that? I mean, I know you''re head over heels for the guy, but this whole ''subject'' thing kinda suggests some strings were attached."

    Isadora shot him a glare that could have vaporized him on the spot. "I swear, if you say one more word¡ª "

    Lucifer held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, don''t shoot the messenger. Or, you know, punch me in the face."

    As they continued reading, Lucifer couldn''t help but add commentary. "''Divine power absorbed''¡­ ''unique ethercraft potential''¡­ Honestly, this sounds like the plot of a bad dime novel. Next thing you know, they''ll say you have a secret twin or something."

    Isadora didn''t respond, too busy processing the revelation that her life had been reduced to a clinical report. The words "valuable asset" echoed in her mind, making her feel more like an object than a person.

    Lucifer glanced at her, noticing her clenched fists. "Hey," he said, his tone unusually soft. "You okay?"

    "No," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Lucifer nodded, for once not cracking a joke. "Then let''s burn this place down when we''re done."

    "That''s the first good idea you''ve had all day," she muttered.

    "Hey, I''ve had plenty of good ideas. You''re just too stubborn to admit it." He paused, "Shall we look for Noel then?"

    "Yeah, I am gonna personally see to his person."

 Chapter 159 Why do they look so horseâ€”ey if theyre not?

    Judge and his master strutted out of the railway station like they''d just robbed a candy shop but didn''t quite have the nerve to run. The capital stretched out before them, a chaotic mess of architectural ambition and public transportation chaos. The air smelled faintly of coal, horse manure, and that special brand of sweat reserved for people who just missed their trains. Truly, a welcoming aroma.

    Seraphis, now disguised as Saphiel¡ª the world''s most intimidating mercenary who also happened to be cosplaying as a merc guild big shot¡ª adjusted his coat with the air of someone who had better things to do but somehow still ended up here.

    Known far and wide as the "Netherwalker" (a title that sounded like it came from a particularly edgy teenager''s diary), Saphiel wasn''t just a flame-controlling powerhouse; he was the mercenary guild equivalent of a rock star. Literally, the dude punches rocks and turns them into tiny crumbles that resemble the stars in the night sky... without light pollution.

    Meanwhile, Judge was doing his best impression of someone who didn''t care what people thought of him¡ª which was, of course, ruined by the fact that he was wearing a plain white mask with an unsettling smile that screamed, ''I''m totally normal, don''t look at me.'' His black hoodie wasn''t helping either.

    His current alias, Dorian Caine, had somehow garnered the nickname "Fear''s Eye," which was probably just a polite way of saying, "That rookie merc looks like he might snap at any moment." But hey, he was also the lucky apprentice of the Netherwalker, so who''s laughing now?

    Reflecting on his genius master-plan-turned-accidental-success, Judge couldn''t help but feel smug. He''d originally aimed to cozy up to some merc higher-up to deal with the shady assassin gatherings in Limdon¡ª a strategy that was supposed to take forever. Instead, he landed himself a mentor who, shockingly, seemed to actually care about him. Life was weird sometimes.

    "You know," Judge began, tilting his head as he looked around, "this place smells like progress and poor decisions."

    Saphiel side-eyed him. "It''s the coal."

    "Really? Because I think it''s that guy over there," Judge said, pointing to a man who was trying¡ª and failing¡ª to balance six chickens in a single crate. "He looks like he''s making all kinds of bad life choices."

    "Focus, Dorian," Saphiel muttered. "We have business to handle."

    "Right, right. Business. Totally not here to sightsee," Judge replied, though his eyes were clearly darting toward a food stand selling something that looked suspiciously like fried rat on a stick.

    They surveyed the bustling scene in front of the station. A line of carriages waited patiently for customers, their ghostly specter-horses swishing tails that didn''t even exist. Passengers streamed toward the nearby metro station like ants marching to their queen.

    Judge made a beeline for one of the carriages, with Saphiel trailing a step behind, likely taking in the old scenery. The place had an air of nostalgia for her¡ª back when she wasn''t Saphiel but just Seraphis, a bright-eyed student at the academy who probably thought life would be less...complicated to say the least.

    Judge''s attention was immediately captured by one of the ghostly specter-horses. The creature was in the middle of some bizarre grooming ritual, brushing its back leg with a hoof in a way that made it look like it had just remembered it left the stove on at home.

    "What''s that horse doing?" Judge asked, stopping in his tracks. He pointed at the specter-horse with the enthusiasm of someone who had just discovered free Wi-Fi. "Is it just...horsing around? Get it? Because it''s a horse!"

    The silence that followed was deafening.

    Saphiel turned to his disciple with a look so tragic, it could have been used as a textbook example of pity. Her face was speaking words that never needed to be spoken, ''That was so bad I''m considering hiring a therapist¡ª for both of us.''

    "...No?" Judge asked weakly. "Too much?"

    "Dorian," Saphiel said slowly, "You are better than this." S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Am I, though?" Judge replied, scratching the back of his head. "I feel like this is my peak."

    "No. Your peak is much lower than this," Saphiel deadpanned. "And for the record, they''re specters, not horses."

    "Well, at least they''re horse-shaped," Judge argued, gesturing dramatically. "And if it looks like a horse and prances like a horse¡ª "

    "It''s still not a horse," Saphiel cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to physically ward off a headache. "Let''s just get on with it before someone thinks we''re insane."

    "Too late," Judge muttered under his breath, but he obediently followed his master toward one of the carriages.

    As they climbed in, Judge couldn''t help but notice how the interior smelled faintly of cinnamon and despair¡ª a combination he found oddly comforting. "You know," he said as the carriage began to move, "I once read that cinnamon is supposed to ward off evil spirits. Or was it mosquitoes? Either way, it''s working."

    With a long-suffering sigh that carried the weight of a thousand dad jokes, Saphiel entered a carriage. They were in the capital to meet one of Judge''s underlings and another soon-to-be underling, who was already conveniently...under control.

    Lucifer and Isadora, the duo in question, had failed to uncover anything about Noel''s whereabouts, little did they know that they searching an assassination organization for proof of their missions. Talk about searching for ice cream in a dessert¡ª you would be lucky to find water.

    All they found was various cases of experiment results that read more like ''Top 10 Evil Science Projects You Shouldn''t Try at Home.'' Seriously, it was less hitman, and more mad scientist.

    Judge and Saphiel''s carriage ride to the northern borough was a quiet affair¡ªmostly because Judge had run out of bad jokes. Forty-seven minutes later (yes, Judge counted), they arrived at a dingy little inn at the edge of civilization. Judge handed the driver 20 nen for his trouble¡ªa generous sum that would probably have the driver recommending him to his colleagues.

    Judge was rich, but it was high time he controlled his spending. But the toxic pride of being a Drakonis and a former tycoon did not allow him to hold back when it comes to spending money on the most unnecessary things imaginable.

    The inn itself was exactly as unimpressive as Judge had imagined: creaky wooden floors, peeling wallpaper, and a front desk clerk who looked like they hadn''t slept since the last lunar eclipse.

    Judge knocked on a door marked with three parallel lines after confirming Lucifer was in that room.

    Lucifer opened the door almost immediately, his expression a mix of surprise and mild annoyance. "Where''s Noel?" he demanded, looking past Judge like the missing person might materialize out of thin air.

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    "Nice to see you too," Judge said, stepping inside. "And surprise! I brought my teacher. Aren''t you thrilled?"

    Lucifer''s gaze shifted to Saphiel, who was leaning against the doorframe with the air of someone who really didn''t want to be there. "This is Saphiel," Judge added helpfully.

    "I know who Saphiel is," Lucifer replied, his tone dripping with skepticism. "But did the Master approve this?"

    "Define ''approve,''" Judge said, dodging the question with the skill of a politician at a press conference.

    Lucifer sighed, clearly deciding that he didn''t have the energy to argue. "Fine. Wait here. I''ll get Isadora."

    As Lucifer disappeared down the hall, Judge turned to Saphiel with a grin. "See? That went well."

    "This is your definition of ''well?''" Saphiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "Sure! No one''s dead, no one''s yelling, and I haven''t been kicked out yet. That''s a win in my book."

    Saphiel just shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I need a vacation."

    While they waited, Judge wandered around the room, poking at random objects like a bored toddler in a museum. "Hey, is this a lamp or some kind of weapon?" he asked, holding up a strange contraption that looked like it could double as both.

    "It''s a lamp," Saphiel replied without looking.

    "Are you sure? Because it''s got this button that¡ª "

    "Don''t press the button."

    Judge pressed the button.

    The lamp immediately started whirring and emitting a high-pitched noise that sounded like a banshee having a bad day. Judge frantically pressed the button again, but the noise only got louder.

    "Why do you never listen?" Saphiel asked, snatching the lamp from Judge''s hands and flipping a switch on the other side to turn it off.

    "I was just trying to¡ª "

    "Don''t."

    "Fair enough... I will just, y''know... sit here."

    When Lucifer finally returned with Isadora in tow, the two of them were greeted by the sight of Judge sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a mug of tea he''d found somewhere, and Saphiel glaring at him like he was debating whether or not to disown him.

    "Am I interrupting something?" Isadora asked, her eyes darting between the two.

    "Just a normal day," Saphiel replied dryly.

 Chapter 160 A loners guide to philosophy

    As far as Noel could remember, he had always been alone. The orphanage, while a place of shelter, was never a place of warmth¡ª not for him, at least.

    The other children avoided him, like he was carrying some invisible storm cloud that might drench them in gloom if they came too close.

    The caretakers tried their best, speaking to him gently every day, but their words seemed to bounce off the thick, quiet barrier he''d built around himself. They smiled at him with that particular mix of pity and patience reserved for problems they couldn''t solve.

    Loneliness wasn''t something Noel chose; it was simply his state of being, like breathing or blinking. At first, he hated it. He envied the other children with their easy laughter and noisy friendships. But over time, he began to see his solitude differently. Isolation wasn''t an empty room; it was a canvas, waiting for him to paint something worthwhile.

    Still, even profound realizations didn''t protect him from the occasional sting of being an outcast. That day in the yard, when Noel stepped in to help a smaller boy being bullied, he didn''t do it for attention or glory. He did it because it felt like the right thing to do. Unfortunately, righteousness didn''t count for much when you were on the ground, eating dirt, and surrounded by jeering laughter.

    The bullies left him with a bruised face and a heavier heart. "What can a gloomy, useless loner like you do?" their words had cut deeper than their fists.

    But later that night, as he lay staring at the cracked ceiling, those words began to shift in his mind. What could he do? If life insisted on leaving him to fend for himself, then perhaps he should become someone worth depending on.

    Noel decided he would grow¡ª not to impress anyone or to silence the laughter of others, but to carve something meaningful out of the silence that had always surrounded him. Solitude, he realized, wasn''t just a shadow to bear; it was a space to grow, like a tree flourishing in a quiet forest.

    The next morning, his training began. He woke before the others, slipping out into the yard to run laps. His first attempt was less "heroic discipline" and more "wheezy mess." After just two circuits, he collapsed against the fence, gasping. "So this is how I die," he thought, half-joking and entirely out of breath.

    In the evenings, he practiced push-ups in the dim basement, cursing gravity under his breath. He sparred with his shadow on the wall, which had the decency not to hit back. And in between, he read¡ª anything he could get his hands on. Old books on martial arts, the wisdom of long-dead philosophers, even a dog-eared manual on posture that promised to make him "confident in three easy steps."

    Through all this, Noel learned something about solitude. It wasn''t just the absence of people; it was an open field where a person could build something from nothing. It was a space that asked difficult questions: Could he stand tall without a hand to hold? Could he find meaning in silence? Could he laugh, even if no one else was around to hear?

    The answers came slowly, shaped by every push-up and every scraped knee. Solitude, he realized, was both the challenge and the reward. It demanded resilience but offered clarity in return. It was like the quiet after a storm¡ª not empty, but full of possibility.

    His progress was uneven and full of small, funny moments that only he was there to witness. Like the time he tried to do a fancy kick he''d seen in a book and ended up flat on his back, staring at the rafters. "Good effort, Noel," he thought wryly, brushing off the dust. "Next time, try aiming for up."

    Years passed, and the boy who once felt like a shadow himself grew stronger. His body hardened from training, and his mind sharpened from endless reflection. He carried himself differently now, his posture straighter, his steps more purposeful. He didn''t seek attention, but he noticed how the other children sometimes glanced his way with something close to curiosity¡ª or maybe respect.

    Still, Noel remained grounded. Strength, he learned, wasn''t about proving others wrong; it was about being able to stand firm when no one else was there. Solitude wasn''t a void; it was the foundation beneath his feet.

    When Noel turned sixteen, the orphanage declared him a proper adult, though he felt anything but. Still, the weight of solitude had taught him one thing: a bird doesn''t wait to feel ready before it takes to the skies. With no destination in mind, he packed what little he had and left the orphanage behind, setting off into a world that stretched vast and uncertain before him.

    It didn''t take long for Noel to realize that solitude was oddly suited to the road. Alone, there were no arguments over which path to take, no compromises over when to stop or where to eat. He walked at his own pace, sang terribly without fear of judgment, and shared his meals with the occasional curious squirrel. "See, solitude?" he mused to the empty trail one day. "You''re not so bad when it''s just us and the trees."

    But even the most dedicated loner finds their path crossing with others. Noel met them one by one¡ª outcasts like himself, each carrying their own scars and stories. There was Mara, a sharp-tongued mercenary with a laugh that could shatter walls, and Calen, a healer with a quiet sadness in his eyes that Noel recognized all too well. And then there was Rin, a thief who swore she didn''t need anyone but somehow never left their side. Together, they formed a band of misfits who, against all odds, fit together.

    "A journey is like a river," Noel once told them as they sat around a campfire. "You think you''re moving forward, but really, the river''s carrying you. The people you meet along the way? They''re the ripples that make the ride interesting." Rin threw a twig at him for being "too deep," but the smile on her face betrayed her affection.

    For years, they wandered, chasing quests that paid just enough to keep them fed and dreams that always seemed just out of reach. They laughed, fought, and grew together, becoming the family Noel had never known he needed.

    But life, as Noel had learned, was not one for guarantees. On his twenty-second birthday, they stopped in a small village¡ª a peaceful place that seemed untouched by the world''s cruelties. That peace was shattered by nightfall.

    The monsters came without warning¡ª two towering creatures of pinkish-blue flame that moved like living nightmares. They burned through the village with a terrible flame that burned anything it touched. Noel and his companions fought with everything they had, but their strength was not enough.

    By dawn, the village was ash, and Noel stood among the ruins, the bodies of his friends lying still in the soot. For a moment, he thought the weight of his grief might crush him. But then, from the wreckage, he heard faint cries. Two young girls who looked around fifteen, the only survivors, clung to each other amidst the rubble. Noel knelt before them, his heart breaking anew.

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    "Sometimes the journey takes more than it gives, but as long as there''s someone to carry forward, the path goes on." he learned through tears that he never could shed as he helped the weeping girls into his arms. "

    In the ruins of that village, Noel met an assassin¡ª he was cold and efficient, but curious about the monsters that had caused such devastation. The assassin''s organization sought answers, and Noel, burdened with grief and a need to keep the girls safe, joined them.

    The organization was connected to the church of night, and he became one of the few blessed of goddess Umbra. The ability that he received was to create a domain out of shadows. But he never could control it properly.

    Years passed, and the sisters, Asha and Isadora, grew under his care. Asha, the older of the two, was a curious and fearless soul who often got into trouble, while Isadora, more reserved, trained diligently as an assassin. Tragedy struck again when Asha, experimenting with a volatile substance in the organization''s lab, lost her life in an accident.

    Noel''s grief resurfaced, but this time he had someone who shared it. Isadora, now a young woman, stood by him, and together they shared the pain. Their bond deepened over time, developed by shared loss and a mutual respect that had grown unnoticed.

    By the time Noel was twenty-five, he realized something that startled him: Isadora was no longer the little girl he had once protected. She had become his equal, his partner, and¡ª though he hesitated to admit it¡ª even his reason to keep going. When he finally proposed, it was without fanfare, just a simple moment shared under the stars.

    "Marriage," he said with a lopsided smile, "is just another journey. And I think I''m done walking this road alone."

    Isadora laughed, punching his arm lightly before saying yes.

    His life was not one without challenges, one he had always emerged victorious from. But he felt all his strength fade as he saw his dear wife, Isadora Rivet, driving a sword through his gut.

    He remembered the day when he was tasked to monitor her since he was the closest, he had said that he would have anyway and also mentioned about his inability to protect his sister, and this was a debt he could never repay in full. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He had proposed her out of pure love...

    but why was she killing him? A single thought passed his mind as he saw Isadora in tears and a blade passing through his gut.

    There were other people in the room, but he could not see them. His attention was solely focused on the only person left in the world that he truly cared for.

    He tried to open his mouth, but he could not speak a word, I am sorry Isadora He thought to himself, I am sorry for not rescuing your sister even after knowing she was a lab rat. I knew all along, it was you and your sister who were the monsters right? I always wanted to kill whomever it was that killed my friends, but it was you¡ª I could never kill you... only... love.

    His weak lips revealed a smile that took up all the energy he had left.

    Haa what a fool I am. He thought, Even as you dig my grave, I worry about your fingers getting hurt.

    The moments of him with Isadora slowly played in his mind like a life recap as he took his last breath. A fleeting end for a loner who always sought family, but always ended up in solitude. Now he died by the hands of someone who shared his solitude¡ª someone who was lonely just like him.

    Goodbye... Isadora!

 Chapter 161 Congratulations, Youre Officially Patience Now!

    Judge snapped his finger like he had reversed this same exact script fifteen times in front of the mirror today.

    There appeared an unconscious white male body of a poor assassin matched up with a phoenix when all odds where against him, bless his poor soul. Isadora stared at Noel''s unconscious body like she could really use a blowtorch right know.

    Subject 01167¡ª a text passed through her mind, Subject 01166 had perished due to constant and consecutive experiments, Subject 01167 was placed under the guardianship of Master Noel Rivet.

    Isadora could not take it anymore, she took a silver long knife she always hed since her training days and drove it through Noel Rivet''s heart. Aiming to kill him instantly as a finally act of mercy for rescuing her when she was a child.

    Noel didn''t have much time to register his fate. One moment he was busy trying to wake up, and the next, an unseen force¡ªperhaps fate itself¡ªdecided to end his story.

    A soft shimmer of ether surrounded him, subtle but unnervingly deliberate. Judge tilted his head ever so slightly, his grin frozen in place but the gleam in his eye betraying a flicker of anticipation.

    The air twisted. A sharp, slicing sound filled the room, Noel tried to speak, but was abruptly cut off. His body stiffened as if struck by lightning, his expression frozen in mild confusion. Then, with a soft smile, he crumpled to the floor, his gaze fixed in Isadora''s eyes. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

    Silence.

    Judge stepped forward, his boots clicking sharply against the cold, unforgiving floor. His expression, for once, softened into something resembling solemnity, though the smile etched into his mask betrayed the truth: this was all part of his grand plan.

    Isadora stared at Noel''s lifeless form, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Whatever fury she had carried moments ago had dissipated, replaced by a hollow ache that swallowed her whole.

    "He''s...he''s gone," she whispered, her voice trembling.

    Judge crouched beside Noel''s body, resting a hand lightly on the man''s shoulder. "Yes," he said simply, almost kindly. "His chapter has ended." He paused, turning to look at Isadora. "But your story...it isn''t finished yet. You were being used, and now you are free."

    Her gaze snapped to him, her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "What are you talking about? This was all I had left. He was all I had left, even after¡ª" Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. "¡ªafter everything... I have nothing now. Nothing."

    Judge straightened, brushing off his coat as if shaking off her despair. "Nothing, you say?" he mused. "No ties, no purpose, no place to belong. And yet..." He gestured vaguely around them, as though indicating something far larger than the room they stood in. "The world keeps turning, doesn''t it? Stories unfold, lives intertwine, and somewhere out there, someone will need to know this one."

    Her brows furrowed, confusion momentarily breaking through her grief. "What are you getting at?"

    Judge stepped closer, his presence looming yet oddly comforting. "You''ve lost everything," he said, his tone soft but deliberate. "But that doesn''t mean you''re finished. You''ve seen what happens when people''s stories are left untold¡ªwhen legacies are lost to time and memory. But what if you could change that?"

    "Change it?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Yes." His eyes gleamed behind the mask. "We serve a master, Isadora, me and Lucifer both. A gathering of those who understand the weight of stories¡ªthe importance of recording them, of preserving them for all eternity. We are called the Recorders, and our task is simple yet profound: to ensure that no story, no matter how small or fleeting, if it catches our eyes, it is never forgotten." S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She stared at him, her emotions warring behind her tired eyes. "And what do you want from me?"

    "I want you to join us," Judge said plainly, extending a hand. "Become a Recorder. Let your pain, your loss, fuel something greater than yourself. Record the stories of this world, Isadora. Make sure Noel''s story, your story, isn''t lost."

    Lucifer, who had been leaning nonchalantly against a wall, finally stepped forward, his presence carrying the quiet authority of someone who knew far too much and enjoyed it. "Judge speaks the truth, Isadora," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

    "Your pain, your loss¡ªthey''ve shaped you. But they don''t have to define you. Join us. Become part of something greater. Maybe, just maybe, we can give you a purpose to live on. Death is not always the ending one might be looking forward to."

    Her gaze dropped to Judge''s outstretched hand, then to Noel''s body, and back to him. "And what happens to me?"

    "You will belong," he replied, his voice low and steady. "You will have purpose. And perhaps, in time, you will find peace."

    She hesitated, her hand hovering just above his. "And who are you really? What gives you the right to do this?"

    Judge''s grin widened, his tone suddenly lighter, almost playful. "I''m just the humble attendant of a god," he said with a flourish. "A simple storyteller, weaving the threads of fate and guiding those willing to listen. Nothing more, nothing less."

    Lucifer suddenly turned to look at Judge, but turned back to Isadora as if telling him that they would have a personal talk later.

    "What was the organization''s name again?" Her tone suggested that her mind was at conflict at whether to accept and try to live even though she does not want to. But only the sharpest of listeners could tell whether she was in conflict. Which, unfortunately for her, was all three of the people present in the room.

    Judge''s grin widened. "The Recorders," he announced with a dramatic flourish. "A gathering of storytellers, chroniclers of the world''s greatest tales. We serve the Observer, the master of stories and the attendant of the god who weaves fate itself."

    At the mention of the Observer, even Lucifer''s usual smugness seemed to fade, replaced by a reverent nod.

    Saphiel, sitting quietly in the corner as though she were a mere spectator to a play she''d seen a hundred times, finally stirred. Her expression was unreadable, her silence as heavy as the scene unfolding before her.

    "But didn''t you just say you are the attendant of god?" She was trying to make sure there are no loose ends, the assassin''s betrayal taught her well.

    "AH! I am indeed an attendant, but my rank is beneath that of the observer." He explained, "So I say that I serve him even though I am also an attendant of god."

    Lucifer looked at him again, but this time it was that they won''t have any personal talk later.

    For a long moment, Isadora remained still, her grief and anger warring with the faint spark of hope he had ignited.

    Judge turned back to Isadora after staring at Lucifer, his tone softening. "You''ve lost much, Isadora. But there''s a way forward. A purpose. Take this." He produced a mask from his coat, identical to the one she already carried¡ªplain white with a smiling face¡ªbut somehow radiating an air of finality, as though it symbolized a step from one world into another.

    "But¡­ I already have one," she said hesitantly, pulling her mask from her belt and holding it up.

    "Yes," Judge acknowledged, "but that one was simply a symbol of your potential. This," he held out the new mask, "is an invitation. Accept it, and you''ll no longer be a wandering soul without a place to belong. You''ll be Barachiel, the Virtue of Patience, a Recorder of the Observer."

    Isadora stared at the mask, her fingers hovering over it like she was afraid it might burn her. "And if I accept?"

    "Then you''ll officially become one of us," Judge said, his tone warm yet insidious. "And all your pain, your doubts¡­ they''ll become fuel for something far greater."

    Lucifer nodded approvingly. "It''s what the Observer desires. Your potential is undeniable."

    Still, Isadora hesitated. The weight of her decision hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

    "Fine," Finally, she said quietly. "I''ll join your Recorders. But if you''re lying¡ª"

    She reached out, her fingers brushing against the mask. As she took it, Judge''s grin seemed to grow, the faintest glimmer of triumph flickering in his eyes.

    "Welcome to the Recorders, Barachiel," he said, his voice as smooth as honey and twice as sticky.

    "Oh, my dear Barachiel," Judge interrupted, his voice a mix of amusement and sincerity, "you''ll find that truth, like stories, is often stranger than fiction. Welcome aboard."

    Isadora lifted the mask, her hands trembling, and placed it over her tear-streaked face. As it settled into place, the line between her mask and her face disappeared, her posture straightened, and a strange calm seemed to wash over her.

    Lucifer smiled behind his mask, "Welcome aboard, Barachiel, I''m not sure how to say this¡ª but I''m truly delighted to have you."

    Saphiel remained silent, her gaze fixed on the newly anointed Barachiel. Whatever she thought of the situation, she kept it to herself.

    Suddenly, Judge felt a warm pain in his hand. He removed his glove to look at what was going on¡ª there, on the back of his hand a rune glowed.

    Two spirals were drawn inside an ellipse, one clockwise and the other the opposite. there were two wide arcs that connected the center of each, making another ellipse inside.

    This was the rune for teleportation, if he touched it, he would go to his home¡ª but his mother would know his location.

    "Teacher!" He called out to Saphiel, who understood what he meant, "I will come with you." He sighed.

 Chapter 162 Ahh! Too bright

    Clarus, the capital city of light, stood in eternal brilliance under a sun that refused to set, like an overly enthusiastic stagehand who didn''t know when to dim the spotlight. It was a place of divine grandeur, the holy ground of Veritas, God of Light and Truth¡ªa deity whose worshippers had built a city so radiant that anyone entering it without sunglasses would leave with a lifetime supply of squints.

    Today, Clarus was abuzz with anticipation, as pilgrims from all corners of the land were making their way to the Grand Church of Light, a cathedral so bright it might as well have been the sun''s understudy. These pilgrims, representing every race imaginable, had come to complete their sacred journey at the holiest of sites, the very place where Veritas was said to have first descended in a blaze of glory that probably put the northern lights to shame.

    Away from the bustling crowd, on an elevated platform with a roof above and a tea table, one particular Avian stood perched on a marble balustrade, her pristine white wings gleaming like freshly polished porcelain bowl.

    Flora, ever the dreamer, had taken it upon herself to observe the newcomers with the kind of detached curiosity one might reserve for an unusually shaped cloud.

    Her father, however, had a different agenda.

    "Flora," his voice boomed, cutting through the chatter like a gong at a meditation retreat, "why are you dawdling here when there''s work to be done?"

    Flora turned, her serene smile never faltering. "Father, I''m appreciating the diversity of life." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "More like you''re avoiding your responsibilities," he countered, his eyes narrowing. Lord Solis, her father, was a figure of undeniable authority, his presence commanding respect, fear, and the occasional awkward bow.

    His humanoid form was practically different from the others of the race, he had two glowing portrutions on his head and a faint luminescence that seemed to radiate from his skin, as if he were a lantern trying to pass as a person.

    "Not true," Flora replied, tilting her head in mock innocence. "I''m merely¡­ delegating them to the capable hands of others. Besides, the pilgrims are perfectly fine without me fluttering about."

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    "Delegating?" Solis repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. "Your sister Celeste is practically losing feathers trying to keep things in order. Do you think Veritas entrusted our family with the regency of Clarus so you could sit around making idle observations?"

    "No," Flora admitted, her wings twitching slightly. "But I do think he''d appreciate someone taking the time to notice the little things."

    Solis pinched the bridge of his nose, a decidedly human gesture for someone who was technically above such mortal frustrations. "Flora, your idealism is admirable, but it''s also profoundly impractical. The Church of Light thrives on order, discipline, and unwavering faith. If we falter, even for a moment¡­"

    "The vampires," Flora finished softly, her usual levity giving way to something more somber. "You think they''re still a threat."

    "I know they are," Solis said, his voice grave. "Our eternal daylight is not just a blessing; it''s a shield. The Nocturns have never forgiven us for what happened during the War of the Two Suns."

    Flora''s gaze drifted to the horizon, where the sun blazed unchallenged. "And yet, we''ve grown so used to the light that we''ve forgotten what it''s like to stand in the dark."

    "Exactly," Solis said, mistaking her contemplative tone for agreement. "Which is why vigilance is paramount. Now, please, go assist your sister."

    With a resigned sigh, Flora unfolded her wings and prepared to take flight. "As you wish, Father. But one day, you''ll see the value in noticing the little things."

    Solis watched her go, shaking his head. "Not if those little things get us all killed," he muttered. "When is this girl going to grow up?"

    Meanwhile, down in the bustling streets, the pilgrims were causing quite the commotion. Merchants hawked their wares with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested they''d happily sell their own shadows if they weren''t already extinct. Street performers juggled glowing orbs of ether, eliciting gasps and cheers from the crowd. And somewhere in the mix was a figure who did not belong.

    This individual moved with an unsettling fineness, his humanoid form unremarkable save for the faintly elongated canines that peeked out whenever he smiled. He kept to the shadows¡ªor what passed for shadows in a city where the sun was contractually obligated to never clock out¡ªand his eyes glinted with a predatory hunger.

    "Not yet," He muttered to himself in a faint voice.

    In the Grand Church of Light, Celeste was overseeing the preparations for the evening''s ceremony, her demeanor was crisp and unyielding like freshly ironed linen. "The altar must be spotless," she instructed a hapless acolyte who was already sweating under the weight of her scrutiny. "If I see even a speck of dust, I''ll personally ensure you spend the next month scrubbing the cathedral steps with a toothbrush."

    The acolyte nodded fervently, scurrying off to fulfill her demands. Celeste turned her attention to the choir, who were rehearsing a hymn that sounded like a cross between a lullaby and a battle cry. "Remember," she called out, "the crescendo must be divine! We are singing for Veritas himself, not a tavern full of drunkards!"

    "If Veritas likes hymns so much, why doesn''t he write his own?" Flora''s voice cut through the room as she sauntered in, her wings trailing lazily behind her.

    Celeste spun around, her eyes narrowing. "Flora. You''re late."

    "I prefer to think of it as fashionably delayed," Flora replied, flashing a disarming smile. "Besides, you''re doing such a marvelous job. I didn''t want to overshadow you."

    "Overshadow me?" Celeste repeated, her voice icy. "The only thing you''re overshadowing is your own potential."

    Before Flora could retort, a commotion erupted outside. The sound of raised voices and hurried footsteps drew their attention, and Celeste''s expression shifted from irritation to alarm. "What now?" she muttered, striding toward the entrance.

    Flora followed, her curiosity piqued. The scene that greeted them was one of chaos: a group of pilgrims had gathered around a collapsed figure, their murmurs a mix of concern and fear.

    "What happened?" Celeste demanded, pushing her way through the crowd.

    "It''s one of the pilgrims," a voice replied. "He just¡­ collapsed."

    Flora knelt beside the fallen individual, her sharp eyes taking in the pale complexion and shallow breathing. "He''s unwell," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "We need to get him inside."

    As they carried the man into the church, Flora couldn''t shake the feeling that something was amiss. There was a faint, almost imperceptible scent in the air¡ªa metallic tang that set her instincts on edge. She glanced at the man''s face and noticed his lips moving, though no sound emerged.

    Later that evening, as the sun continued its relentless vigil, Flora stood on one of the church''s balconies, her mind racing. Her father''s warnings echoed in her ears, but so did her own thoughts: If the light were to falter, even for a moment, what would happen to Clarus? To its people?

    The sound of footsteps pulled her from her musings. Solis approached, his expression unreadable. "You''ve been quiet tonight," he observed, his tone soft but probing.

    "I''ve been thinking," Flora admitted. "About the balance we''ve struck here. The light protects us, but it also blinds us to certain truths."

    Solis nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "The light is both a gift and a responsibility. It illuminates, but it also casts shadows. You must learn to navigate both."

    "And if the shadows fight back?" Flora asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Then we must be ready," Solis replied. "But remember, the shadows aren''t always our enemies. Sometimes, they reveal what the light hides."

    Flora studied her father, sensing the weight of his words. "You''ve seen more than you let on, haven''t you?"

    Solis offered a faint smile, the kind that spoke of burdens carried in silence. "One day, you''ll understand."

    Unbeknownst to them, the shadowy figure had infiltrated the church''s inner sanctum, his movements fluid and deliberate. He moved as if he knew everything about the place, he cleverly avoided traps and passed through a few that could not be avoided, but there was no reaction.

    The guards somehow failed to notice him.

    The vampire''s sharp disgust of Veritas guided him to the holy artifact, the source of Clarus''s eternal light. It was a glowing orb surrounded by two radiant rings, they were spinning around the orb slowly.

    As his fingers brushed against its radiant surface, a jolt of energy coursed through them, and their lips curled into a sinister smile, even as his palm began to melt.

    Flora felt a sudden chill, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. She turned to Solis, her voice urgent. "Father, we need to check the sanctum."

    Solis''s expression hardened, and together they hurried toward the artifact''s chamber. But as they approached, the light dimmed ever so slightly¡ªa change so subtle it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else.

    The vampire paused, his work momentarily halted as he sensed the approaching Avian duo. He slipped into the corner, his presence well-hidden and undetectable, but his intent crystal clear. Tonight, Clarus''s unyielding light would face its first real test.

    As Flora and Solis stepped into the sanctum, the room''s brightness seemed to waver, and an uneasy silence settled over them. "Father," Flora began, her voice trembling, "something''s not right."

    And then, as if on cue, the eternal light flickered. But that brief moment was enough to envelop Flora in the orange evening sky she had never seen before, through the glass-paned roof¡ª it was beautiful beyond words could tell.

    For the first time in her life, she felt as though time itself had stopped¡ª just for her. But her attention was quickly shifted to the artifact, it was gone.

    swish!

    A head rolled on the floor, a woman¡ª Staring at Flora''s body, about to open her wings in surprise.

    "Sis-ter?"

    (End of volume 2)

 Chapter 163 Why am I always the one punished? - Judge (Obviously)

    "Relax, Eleyn, I brought him out of Terra Draconum," Seraphis said, her tone dripping with the kind of calm only a person who''s just done something unthinkable can muster. Her white hair shimmered faintly under the warm glow of Eleyn''s ornate chandelier, a stark contrast to the fiery storm brewing in Eleyn''s piercing ashen white eyes.

    Eleyn shot her a look that could only be described as ''why did you kidnap my child with questionable decision-making skills?'' It was the kind of expression that would make even seasoned warriors reconsider their life choices.

    "Fine," Eleyn hissed, her voice the embodiment of restrained fury. "Let''s hear it then." She quickly pivoted her attention to Judge, who was kneeling on the floor like he was auditioning for Saint of the Year. "But let me make one thing clear, young man¡ªthis DOES NOT mean you''re off the hook."

    Judge, in all his crimson-cloaked, green-vested glory, nodded solemnly, though the perpetual smile on his mask made it hard to tell if he was genuinely remorseful or secretly plotting his next escapade.

    Eleyn quickly removed the mask that seemed to let Judge make whatever face he wants. This was not somewhere he can plot.

    Seraphis clapped her hands together, the sound was crisp and authoritative, as if signaling the start of a long, winding tale. "Alright, let me start from the beginning. Context is key, after all. First of all¡ªhi again, Eleyn! It''s been, what, ten? Fifteen years since we last saw each other? I''ve lost count to be honest. You''re looking as radiant as ever. Secondly¡ªand this is very important¡ªmy egg hatched... early, very early."

    Eleyn''s stern demeanor wavered at the mention of an egg. Her eyes lit up with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for discovering a sale on priceless magical artifacts. "What? Where?" she asked, her voice brimming with curiosity. "When did it hatch? Why didn''t you tell me sooner?"

    Seraphis sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping as though she carried the weight of the world¡ªor at least a particularly heavy burden of regret. "That''s where the tragedy begins," she said, leaning into her storytelling mode like a bard about to earn a standing ovation. "Right after my sweet, precious baby hatched, she was kidnapped."

    Eleyn gasped, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. "Huh?! Kidnapped? By whom?"

    Seraphis gestured vaguely with her hands. "Exactly what I said. One moment there she was, perfect and adorable, and the next¡ªpoof! Gone. All I saw were these glowing purple orbs at the scene. Two of them. Menacing. Felt like those divine powers, but strange somehow. And then¡ªpoof!¡ªshe was gone. Corwin and I searched high and low, but we got separated during the search. It''s been three years, Eleyn. Three long years, and I still haven''t found her."

    Eleyn''s eyes narrowed, her mind clearly piecing together clues faster than Judge could concoct an alibi. "Purple orbs, you say?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Did you know my son''s eyes can glow purple when his emotions run wild?"

    Judge''s head snapped up so fast it was a miracle his neck didn''t audibly protest. "Mother!" he blurted out, his voice filled with the indignation of someone whose embarrassing secret was just aired to the world. "Do you mind not broadcasting my features like they''re market gossip?"

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, her expression teetering between genuine surprise and the kind of exaggerated shock only a seasoned performer could pull off. "Really? Purple eyes? That''s fascinating," she said, her voice was filled with curiosity.

    "First I''ve heard of it." She wasn''t lying, technically¡ªjust¡­ editing the truth for dramatic effect. No need for Eleyn to know about Judge''s growing prowess in domain control just yet. That little tidbit could stay tucked away in her mental filing cabinet labeled ''For Later Revelations.'' It was for Judge to tell his mother himself, if he ever wished to do so that is, which Seraphis felt like he would.

    "Anyway," Seraphis continued, steering the conversation back on course, "I actually met Judge during my travels. He caught my attention when I gave him a small test of wits."

    Eleyn tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What kind of test?"

    Seraphis smirked, clearly savoring the memory. "I asked him a hypothetical question: ''Between Illusory Fiend, Veilcrawler, and Shrouded Grasper which one would he prefer to hunt and with wich weapon?'' His answer was intriguing enough for me to decide he needed a proper weapon. So I took him shopping for guns, to Limdon because... well¡ª Terra Draconum doesn''t exactly have a gun store. You wouldn''t believe what he said to me during that trip."

    Eleyn raised an eyebrow, clearly bracing herself for whatever nonsense her son had spouted this time. "What did he say?"

    Seraphis''s grin widened. "When I saw he had been buying high-end arms with no bargaining, I asked him How does he have so much money, and he told me something nostalgic, ''Let''s just say my allowance laughs at your annual salary.''"

    Eleyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Of course he did. That''s my son¡ªalways leading with his charm. I told you that when we first met right?"

    Seraphis laughed, the sound rich and full of mirth. "Well, it certainly left an impression. And when asked whether he knew you and he told me he was your son, it all clicked. I decided then and there to take him under my wing as my disciple. He reminded me so much of you, Eleyn. The wit, the audacity, the flair."

    Judge, still kneeling, decided to chime in. "I prefer to think of it as inherited excellence." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Quiet, you," Eleyn snapped, though her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

    "Anyway," Seraphis continued, clearly on a roll now, "did you know your son can freely change his height? It''s how he''s been masquerading as a mercenary named Dorian Caine. Fear''s Eye, they call him. Quite the reputation he''s built for himself."

    Eleyn''s jaw dropped. "Fear''s Eye? That''s the name they came up with? And JUDGE, what''s with the changing height?"

    Judge coughed, clearly enjoying the spotlight, but taken aback by the sudden outbreak. "I have this principle I yet have to understand completely, but I can disappear to a personal space and alter my body, I do know that it is related to the purple eyes I have.."

    "Hmm, I do have to ask more, but I don''t want to" Eleyn muttered, shaking her head and changing the topic and turning to Seraphis. "My son, a mercenary. What''s next? You tell me he''s secretly a playwright?"

    "Funny you should mention that," Seraphis said, her tone conspiratorial. "Let''s just say he''s picked up a knack for scriptwriting too. I may or may not have been his first audience."

    Eleyn buried her face in her hands, muttering something about "too much like his father" under her breath.

    As the laughter subsided, Seraphis''s expression turned serious. "But enough about that. Eleyn, why did you summon Judge back so abruptly? I had plans for him, you know." Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire

    Eleyn''s face darkened, her tone somber. "I had a premonition," she said, her voice heavy with dread. "If Judge stayed in the place he currently was any longer, he would have died. Strangely, Limdon was said to be a safe city that was harsh on people with no money. Did you guys run into a dangerous band?"

    The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a thick fog. Judge, for once, had no witty retort, his ever-present smile suddenly feeling more like a mask than ever.

    "We were in the capital, but yeah we killed someone from the assassin organization that tried to off your daughter." Seraphis nodded slowly, her eyes flicking to Judge.

    Eleyn smiled as if something clicked, "So that was why Alex was telling he was so proud of Judge that he finally have a son like him."

    "It''s a good thing I brought him back then. I hate to admit, but Judge reminds me too much of Alex. But Eleyn¡­" She hesitated, her voice softening. "If I find my daughter¡ªSelina¡ªI''ll need your help."

    Eleyn reached out, placing a comforting hand on her old friend''s shoulder. "You have my word, Seraphis. We''ll find her together."

    Judge, finally breaking the silence, raised a hand sheepishly. "So, uh, does this mean I''m off the hook?"

    "Not a chance," Eleyn and Seraphis said in unison, their voices ringing with unmistakable authority.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "He is dead," Victor held Noel in his arms as he spoked to another man beside him.

    "How strong are the enemies? Noel even had the blessing of goddess Umbra." The person, Master Thadd, expressed his opinion. "Any info on the ether traces?"

    "No Master Thadd, surprisingly there is no trace of ether."

    "But we did came as fast as we could," He turned to think, "Which means there was no ether involved in killing, any other traces than the blade on his chest? And that blade is ours right?"

    "Yes sir, it is issued to his wife Isadora."

    "Then let''s find her first."

    "Master thadd, his body seems fine, but his blood is strange."

    "How so?" Thadd rushed to the body to inspect,

    "This!..." He yelled in surprise, "The blood seems to have undergone corruption!"

 Chapter 164 The crimson eclipse

    "The blood seems to have undergone corruption!"

    Master Thadd''s voice cracked like the floorboards in a haunted mansion, and honestly, Victor couldn''t decide if it was fear or just his vocal cords protesting the sheer drama of it all. Either way, the guy sounded spooked, which was rare.

    Thadd wasn''t exactly known for being emotional¡ªunless you counted his passion for chain-smoking and delivering cryptic one-liners like a budget prophet.

    Victor tilted his head. This entity that had apparently RSVP''d to Noel''s demise was starting to sound like a real headliner. And for some reason, it made Victor oddly excited. Not scared¡ªexcited. He wasn''t exactly the "cower in fear" type, unless it was tax season.

    Maybe I''ll surpass Master Thadd someday, Victor thought, barely hiding a smirk. Then I''ll take the throne. Pope Victor the First! The Cool Pope. The Fun Pope. The guy who makes ''Casual Friday'' a holy tradition. He even imagined himself lounging on a throne made of gold, declaring new holidays like "Nap Day" and "Free Pastry Monday."

    "Victor!" Thadd''s bark snapped him out of his daydream, which was a shame because the next part involved him wielding a scepter made entirely of baguettes. Speaking of dream, just the other day he had a wet dre- S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Yes, Master Thadd?" Victor straightened up, trying to look like someone who hadn''t just been mentally redecorating the papal palace. Or trying to remember his memories when sleeping.

    "Details," Thadd growled, setting Noel''s body down with the same care you''d give a ticking bomb. "I need details about Noel''s recent missions. What could have led to this mess?" His hands landed on Victor''s shoulders, not quite forceful but heavy enough to feel like a weighted blanket¡ªif weighted blankets were judgmental. "We can''t face this enemy without knowing what we''re up against."

    "As you command," Victor said, slipping out of Thadd''s grip like a particularly ambitious bar of soap. "But, uh, forgive me for asking, Master¡ªwhy are you so convinced this blood-corrupting whoever is such a big deal? Do you know them?"

    Thadd let out the kind of sigh that said, Oh, you sweet summer child. He plopped onto the bed, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a flair that suggested he''d practiced for dramatic effect.

    "There''s only one artifact capable of corrupting blood," he said, taking a puff like he was narrating a gritty detective novel. "It''s a nasty piece of work. Drives people insane¡ªlike, full-on paint the walls with conspiracy theories insane. And yet..." He paused for effect because Thadd was nothing if not theatrical. "There''s one person who''s managed to stay sane while using it. They call them the Brute Phoenix."

    Victor''s eyes widened. "Sounds... fiery."

    "But," Thadd continued, ignoring the comment, "there is another name for that person... the name¡ªis the Scarlet Eclipse. The one who brings death under the crimson moon."

    Victor leaned in. "The Scarlet Eclipse? That sounds like a terrible wrestler gimmick. What do they do? Body slam people under a red disco ball?"

    Thadd, unimpressed, took another puff. "No. They bring death under the crimson moon. Are you retarded?"

    Victor blinked. "Crimson moon? Like, what, an evil full moon that decided to go goth?"

    Thadd pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you want answers or not?"

    Victor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. No moon jokes. Tell me more about this spooky eclipse person. But first..." He shifted gears. "About Noel''s recent missions¡ªhere''s what I know."

    He cleared his throat, adopting his best storyteller voice. "So, Noel was tasked with assassinating the young lady from the Drakonis family. Supposedly, he pulled it off. But honestly? I call nonsense. It''s the Drakonis! They probably bleed fire and sneeze explosions. There''s no way he took her out that easily."

    Thadd raised an eyebrow, his silent way of saying go on.

    "The mission itself was dodgy from the start," Victor continued, gesturing like he was narrating a tavern tale. "It showed up on a branch notice board in Limdon instead of going through HQ even though it was such a dangerous mission. Weird, right? And the poor worker who posted it¡ªhe went totally bananas when the police asked him about the massacre in the branch. Like, eyes twitching, foaming at the mouth bananas. Then¡ªget this¡ªthe branch got obliterated right after. Real subtle, whoever did that." Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    Victor leaned back, arms crossed like he''d just cracked the world''s biggest conspiracy. "We traced things to the Church of Night¡ªbig surprise there¡ªand got some intel that matched our suspicions. But here''s the kicker: we were warned that their minions are the kind of crazy folks you don''t want to meet in a dark alley. Or a lit alley. Or, you know, anywhere."

    "And Noel''s wife?" Thadd asked, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

    "Oh, right. Isadora." Victor scratched his head. "There were reports of them fighting, but nothing too dramatic. No transforming, no power surges, nothing. We think her energy might''ve stabilized, which is, y''know, science-y mumbo jumbo I won''t pretend to understand. Anyway, after Noel left for his final mission¡ªpoof. No word, no reports. And now here he is, deader than my last attempt at cooking."

    Thadd nodded. Just nodded. Like Victor had just told him about a minor inconvenience, like spilling tea on a new shirt. Or the meat being sold out just before they could buy it for dinner.

    "Then we must find Isadora at all costs," Thadd said firmly. "Have you tried using the ether chaser?"

    Victor smirked. "Already done, Master. Orders are out. I''m expecting results any moment now."

    "Good," Thadd said, leaning back and taking a contemplative drag from his cigarette. "While we wait, let me tell you more about the Scarlet Eclipse."

    Victor didn''t say it, but he was already planning his own smoke break. After all, if he was going to hear about death under a spooky moon, he might as well enjoy it with a cigar in hand.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    During the time when I was still young, naive, and foolishly dreaming of becoming unfathomably strong, my team and I were assigned a mission that was meant to push the limits of our courage¡ªor perhaps reveal the depths of our stupidity. Our task was simple, or so we thought: eliminate the target if the assassination failed to deliver results.

    It was twenty years ago, but the memories are burned into my mind like a brand. And among those memories, one detail stands out with terrifying clarity¡ªthe mask. A plain, black mask, unadorned and devoid of expression, with nothing but two empty holes for eyes. Yet those holes... They stared into you like they could see every sin, every doubt, every flicker of hesitation in your soul.

    To this day, I don''t even know the person''s gender. Perhaps the mask was meant to hide it, or maybe they were something beyond such mortal distinctions. What I do know is that the figure beneath the mask¡ªno, the child beneath the mask¡ªwas no ordinary being.

    Short white hair framed their head, a shocking contrast to the darkness of their mask, and their eyes... I have never seen anything like those eyes. They burned like twin crimson flames, unyielding, unblinking, as if the fires of some ancient, bizarre rage had taken up residence there.

    When they turned those eyes on me, I felt an icy fear grip my very being. It wasn''t fear of death. No, it was the fear of something far worse¡ªit was like a ghost, a force that had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fear, and no reason to hold back.

    The assassination attempt? I still don''t know if it succeeded or failed, but I remember the assassins telling us about their plan to inject the poison with a single pin shot from a pipe. They managed to strike, to deliver the venom meant to silence that child forever.

    And yet... they didn''t falter. The child didn''t weaken. Instead, the child changed.

    The transformation was immediate. One moment, the person stood as a mere figure in the shadows, unassuming despite the fiery gaze. The next, it moved¡ªno, the person erupted¡ªwith the ferocity of a wild beast set loose from its cage. Like a mad hound driven to frenzy.

    There were five assassins, each stationed at a carefully chosen vantage point, prepared for every contingency. Or so they thought. Five highly trained killers, getting ready to strike again. But none of them even had the chance to scream.

    They all fell.

    In an instant.

    No warning, no sound, no cry of pain. Just the soft, sickening thuds of lifeless bodies hitting the ground. One moment they were alive, the next, they were not.

 Chapter 165 Have you heard this new trend called... dying?

    No warning, no sound, no cry of pain. Just the soft, sickening thuds of lifeless bodies hitting the ground. One moment they were alive, the next, they were not.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Master Thadd continued his tale. Taking another puff whenever he stopped briefly. His face looked as if just remembering the memory brought him fear.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    We, the backup fighting squad, were trained to handle the unimaginable. But what we saw that day was something we couldn''t have prepared for in a hundred lifetimes. Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    The sky... It changed.

    What had been a clear, moonlit night turned blood-red in the span of a heartbeat. A scralet moon¡ªvast, ominous, and utterly unnatural¡ªhung low behind the child, turning the entire field into a hellscape, barren and thick with the scent of war¡ª blood, metal, and death.

    And then the mask... That plain, black mask that had unnerved me so deeply began to burn.

    Bright red flames consumed it, crackling and roaring as if the fires themselves were alive, it felt extremely hungry for destruction.

    But the child did not scream, did not flinch, did not move to remove the burning mask. They simply stood there, staring, those blazing eyes now framed by the very flames that sought to devour them.

    It was as though the entire world itself was standing still, the air felt heavier, and oppressive, like the very atmosphere had turned against us.

    I remember one of my teammates trying to move, but like everyone else, he too, was just standing still out of fear. Another dropped their weapon, frozen in terror. And me? I could barely think, let alone act. All I could do was watch, powerless, as this being¡ªthe child who should have been overwhelmed by our forces¡ªtransformed into something beyond comprehension.

    The form of the child¡ª it shifted, grew, morphed into something... monstrous. A bird. No, not a bird¡ª a gigantic bird, a bird made out of crimson flames, a creature so massive, so terrifying, it looked like it had come straight from a nightmare.

    It was a monster unlike anything I have ever seen, it surely felt like it was turning into its racial form, but not once in all my years of living have I heard or seen such a terrifying beast. The heat it gave off... it made the battlefield, already hellish, feel like the very pits of the underworld.

    Victor, I was never a person to believe in anyone being born with talents, I always believed that people who are said to have been born with great talents are the best hard workers, I was also one.

    But as I watched the sight, I wondered about what defines talents. Is it the strength? Is it the ability to think? Is it the ability to grow? Then what about monsters, about that monster, how would one define its talents, was it born stronger? Or was it made into a monster?

    Thankfully, our group leader, even though scared, tried to keep us as much alive as possible. He screamed for us to get a grip, grabbed me by my collar, and threw me as far away as possible, two more people followed, we three were the youngest of the group.

    We three, we always talked about bravery and being courageous warriors who never back down from a fight even if it costs our lives. But when faced with death, we all ran away like cowards, with our tail between our legs.

    I learned something there¡ª that death is the ultimate test for a warrior. When faced with it, it defines whether one is a warrior is brave or not. Our seniors were brave, but it did not mean they were fearless, no... I learned that being brave means advancing despite the fear of losing something, important or not¡ª it might be a person, a thing... or it could be your life.

    I never knew what had happened, I just knew our team leader turning into a true fairy with his transparent wings and the glowing halo, his racial form was so majestic. But he never came back for me to complement.

    A team was dispatched to retrieve the remains of the battle, but they never found our team or the elite assassins that were sent to kill that one child. I still remember someone giving me the birthday present that the team leader packed up for me, it was my birthday the next week¡ª it was a catalyst, a rechargeable one. I remember telling him I was saving money to buy that when I refused to drink.

    He had a child, a daughter¡ª I decided to look after her, but fate plays strangely. She suicides out of grief, that child who was barely six.

    The picture was etched onto my mind, it was a birthday that nobody wanted to celebrate after everything, even me. The child hung herself in the bathroom, I don''t know how she tied the rope and all, but she had even written a suicide note, telling she was going to meet papa.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Master Thadd lowered his head as if about to cry, "The leader protected me with his life, yet I couldn''t let his daughter learn more about the world, poor child, she lost her mother at three, and losing the father at six might have caused a lot of disdain in the young mind."

    Contrary to Thadd''s position, he never shed a single drop of tears. Not that he was not sad, but he had lost the ability to cry a long while back. He gave the cigar another puff, throwing away the finished stick after it.

    "She was my niece, and the only one in the younger generation from our family" He continued, not caring whether Victor listened or not, maybe he just needed someone to off his load on1, "Mother lost her mind after everything, and honestly¡ª I felt like I am the most worthless person ever, that I should die... funny actually," He laughed lightly.

    "But I decided to live anyway, if my life was worthless, then I should at least live for my brother''s sake, the team leader gave me his life to live on after all."

    Then he saw that the messenger with the reports on finding Isadora had been here for a long time, he stood up and looked at the girl dead in the eye. "This does not leave this room, if it did¡ª you better say your family gets at least your body for burial."

    "Y-Yes sir." The messenger, flustered, nodded as if she understood everything.

    Thadd started to laugh, "Haa, I am just playing with you, no need to be so timid. The report, if you will" S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Yes, Master Thadd." The woman bowed before answering, "We cannot find the whereabouts of Subject 01167, it seems obstructed by either distance or a barrier."

    "Call her Isadora, it is better to understand." Thadd sent a thoughtful gaze towards Victor, who was both excited but at the same time scared of what has he gotten himself into.

    The organization that promised him power was too powerful, just one member was that terrifying. Then what about him? What would happen if he were to tell them that he suddenly do not want power? Would he be killed without mercy. Victor, he had been scared of power many times, but for the first time¡ª he was scared of the unknown.

    "Would it be obstructed by another dimension? Master Thadd," Victor tried his best to sound normal, "I mean, if the abductor was the person you mentioned, that means that person could create a dimension related to blood."

    "That was no dimension Victor, the whole place was turned desolate" Thadd explained, "But it is a fair assumption considering we don''t know much about our enemies."

    "Would you be able to defeat that person with how you currently are Master Thadd?" Victor asked, half curious, half scared.

    "I am not sure, but If see that person again, I won''t back down. But I will start with eliminating anyone assisting before starting the fight to remove any liabilities."

    "It is nice to hear you are confident Master." Victor smiled, but he had a hunch that he was missing something. "Why kill the assistant before killing that person, wouldn''t striking that person be effective?"

    "Because back then, the one who killed the assassin''s was not that child, it was another child with the same black mask. But I can tell it is a boy, red hair, golden eyes that seemed to look down on the whole world.

    I was scared of that mysterious boy more than the monster, there was no big reason why, it was just because I knew nothing about that boy... an entity that seemed it could kill with words."

    Gosh that sounded so wrong.

 Chapter 166 Ok that sound dangerous

    Judge had somehow reverted to his four-year-old self¡ª tiny, adorable, and far too smug for someone with chubby cheeks. At the moment, he was perched on Melissa''s back like an overripe sack of potatoes.

    Why? Because Eleyn, his ever-watchful mother, had delivered her latest decree: "Don''t even think about stepping outside until after Amber''s entrance ceremony!" The event was scheduled for the second of January, which was practically tomorrow in December time, and Eleyn was determined to keep everything on track.

    The ceremony itself wasn''t on the first of January for a very practical reason. You see, the first was an international day of collective hangovers and questionable life choices. After all, most students¡ª Judge''s peers included¡ª would party their tiny hearts out on New Year''s Eve, pass out somewhere around dawn, and wake up looking like undead goblins.

    Yeah, not the best time to hold a formal event. So, the organizers wisely pushed the formalities to the second. It was either that or deal with a crowd of students accidentally napping in their chairs. Or oversleeping, which was a given, and completely missing the ceremony.

    Trailing close behind Melissa and her piggybacked passenger was Seraphis, who, as usual, seemed to be multitasking. On one hand, she kept a hawk-eyed watch on Judge, as though he were a cute little teddy bear she wanted to squish and keep on a shelf forever. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

    On the other hand, she was pretending that Judge''s mildly psychopathic tendencies didn''t exist¡ª like, for instance, that time he went on a church rampage or meticulously planned the downfall of his sister''s would have been assassin. Nothing to see here! Just a normal, sweet kid.

    At one point, Seraphis tried to politely wrestle the boy off Melissa''s back. She argued that she should carry him instead. Melissa, of course, refused because her spine hadn''t given up on her yet. But Seraphis was nothing if not persistent. After several rounds of "Are you sure?" and "You look tired," and possibly some guilt-tripping about "Not letting the youngsters handle things and spoiling them," Melissa finally caved.

    Judge, now riding on Seraphis''s shoulders, declared himself the emperor of the world (silently, but with the smuggest grin imaginable). But his surprise was unimaginable when he understood Seraphis liked children... way too much.

    During this royal shoulder tour, Melissa casually mentioned that Judge''s brother, Liam, had come back from a fight with a demon. Apparently, he was mostly okay, barring some injuries in places nobody keeps track of. Instead of worrying like any normal kid, Judge''s ego inflated faster than a poorly-tied balloon.

    He thought to himself: Hah! I fought a demon, too! And guess what, dear brother? I won. Take that! The mental victory dance was both unearned and spectacular. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Finally, they arrived at Judge''s room¡ª a place that could best be described as "chaotic neutral." It was the kind of space that looked abandoned but somehow meticulously maintained, like an office cleaned only when important guests are expected.

    Everything was in its place, even the furniture and Judge''s artifact box¡ª which was suspicious because Judge and cleanliness were mortal enemies. He forgets to clean his room so much so that Seraphis has to always kindly remind him to keep his room clean, and he surprisingly agrees after a few kind instructions. Such a great child.

    Melissa quickly confirmed the obvious: the state of his room was entirely thanks to his maid.

    "Wow, your maid is incredible," Seraphis said, gently setting Judge down. She then eyed him with exaggerated disapproval. "No wonder you''re a walking disaster when it comes to cleaning up after yourself."

    "Pfft, please, master." Judge sauntered over to his study with all the dramatic flair of someone who had just been insulted. "Do you really think boys care about cleanliness? And while we''re on the topic, let''s talk about you. What about that time you ate like a caveman, oil dripping everywhere? How''s that for your ''cleanliness'' image?"

    Seraphis pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly pained. "I hate explaining things, but you leave me no choice." She sank into the sofa, ready to deliver a lecture. "Alright, Judge. Answer me this: was anyone else there besides us during the incident?"

    "No."

    "Was there any cutlery available?"

    "No."

    "Did we have water nearby?"

    "Yes."

    "Were we in a hurry?"

    "Uh¡­ maybe? I forgot."

    Seraphis sighed. "It was a bad situation for neat eating, okay? I wouldn''t have even tried if there wasn''t water nearby. So maybe don''t go around ''judging'' me without thinking things through. Got it?"

    "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Judge waved her off with all the respect of a cat ignoring its owner. He plopped down at his study and began fiddling with the artifacts scattered across the table. "So, about that Nihility Principle I gave you last time¡ª how''s that going?"

    Seraphis leaned back, clearly reluctant to indulge him but doing it anyway. "It''s¡­ complicated. It''s going to take months to understand and add modifications, I do understand a bit, and it seems like the diary had misinformations in it. I still don''t know clearly, but let me tell you this: the principle isn''t just about creating a void where something should be. It could theoretically erase anything."

    Judge perked up, momentarily impressed. "Huh. Sounds dangerous. It is like one of those circus clowns, funny in real life but the number one when it comes to psychotic killing in a novel or a play."

    "I am being serious here Judge, and when I said it could potentially erase anything, I meant anything¡ª doesn''t matter if it is living or non-living, or even if it is not physical and just conceptual."

    "Now that sounds very... very dangerous."

    "That''s because it is dangerous," Seraphis said matter-of-factly. She rose from her seat, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. "Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, we''re leaving on a cloud strider. You want to see your sister, right?"

    Judge scoffed. "Who needs her?"

    "Don''t lie to yourself," Seraphis quipped, smirking as she walked toward the door. "Oh, and don''t forget to visit your brother, either."

    "Fine," Judge grumbled, turning back to the table. But inside, he was already planning how to rub his demon-slaying victory in Liam''s face.

 Chapter 167 The restaurant that was too... French?

    "Bienvenue, Monsieur, Mademoiselle.1 Do you have reservations?" S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The waiter spoke with a flourish, his accent so thick and dramatic it felt like he had practiced it in front of a mirror every morning since birth. He was dressed to the nines, his suit so sharp it could cut bread.

    Alex Drakonis stepped down from their gold-and-maroon carriage with the grace of a man who had mastered the art of looking important while secretly wondering if he had gotten the time wrong. He adjusted his coat, gave a quick glance to the Drakonis crest emblazoned on the carriage to remind himself he was indeed fancy, and then turned to his daughter.

    "Yes, reservations, the... uhh¡ª The Secret Garden." Alex''s voice carried a confidence that implied he frequented such establishments, but his slight hesitation made it clear he was just following what the booking assistant had scribbled down for him.

    Amber looked up at her father with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Why the sudden decision to dine somewhere so fancy? Did you win a bet or something?"

    Alex smirked, holding her hand tightly. "Consider this your last supper."

    Amber froze mid-step. "My... what now?"

    "Before you''re thrown into the wilds of dorm life," Alex added with a dramatic sigh, as if the mere mention of dormitories summoned memories of a tragic past. "Dorm food, Amber. It''s a battlefield. You''re about to embark on a war where survival depends on how well you can stomach things that shouldn''t legally be called food."

    Amber blinked at him, confused but now mildly alarmed. "How bad could it really be?"

    Amber was looking forward to her first day in school, she was so set on January second that it felt like like she was going to age just waiting a week before the new year.

    "Bad, as in, you''ll wonder if the cooks are trying to assassinate you. That bad," Alex whispered as the waiter began escorting them to their room.

    Amber, the composed noble daughter, tried to hide her growing apprehension behind a calm exterior. But her voice betrayed her. "Do you think I can survive it, Dad?"

    Alex leaned in conspiratorially. "Some noble kids throw up for the first week. Others cry themselves to sleep. The rest just accept their fate and hope they don''t develop a mysterious rash."

    Amber''s wide eyes darted to his face, searching for any sign of a joke. There was none. "A... rash?! You''re joking, right?"

    Alex simply gave her a serene, fatherly smile. "You''ll be fine. Probably."

    Whatever excitement she was having from going to school was all stripped down as if was heading to Jail on the second day of the new year. And she knew nothing about jails, she somehow wished she had read more books like Judge to gain knowledge.

    By the time they reached The Secret Garden, Amber''s mind was spinning with horrifying images of unidentifiable gruel and weeping aristocrats. The door to the room snapped her out of her panic. Decorated with vines, flowers, and so much greenery it looked like someone had dragged a greenhouse indoors, it was breathtaking.

    Amber''s eyes lit up. "Wow, it''s beautiful!"

    "Par ici, invit¨¦s distingu¨¦s.1" The waiter opened the door with a theatrical bow, revealing a room that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a fairytale.

    "Merci monsieur"1 Alex returned the bow with a very slight one. Receiving a smile from the waiter.

    The meal began with a basket of freshly baked bread served alongside a tiny saucer of butter shaped like a rose. Amber, while cautiously nibbling on the bread, couldn''t help but glance suspiciously at every dish the waiters brought. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

    "Eat up, Amber," Alex said cheerfully, carving into his steak. "You''ll miss this kind of food soon enough."

    Amber pushed a piece of asparagus around her plate. "Are you sure the dorm food is that bad? Maybe you''re exaggerating."

    Alex put down his fork, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Amber, let me tell you about the time I was at the Royal Academy. The first night, they served something called ''meat stew.'' It was neither meat nor stew. To this day, I''m convinced it was some kind of alchemy experiment gone horribly wrong."

    Amber giggled despite herself. "What did you do?"

    "I did what any young noble would do. I bribed the kitchen staff to sneak me bread rolls. Cost me my allowance, but I didn''t starve."

    Amber shook her head, laughing. "You''re terrible."

    "Hey, I can at least give you more allowance, although you cannot use money inside school, you can very well use it if you know how to."

    "Is it not allowed or something? Or is it just there is nothing to buy?"

    "Both, but you need money if you decide to adventure out. The school doesn''t ban that" Alex ate another piece of asparagus.

    The waiter arrived with the next course: a beautifully plated dish of roasted duck with a raspberry glaze. Amber hesitated before taking a bite, and when she did, her eyes widened. "This is amazing!"

    "Enjoy it while you can," Alex said, sipping his wine. "Next week, you''ll be eating something they call ''mystery casserole.'' And massive spoiler: the mystery is what it used to be before it got cooked."

    Amber groaned, laughing. "Okay, okay, I get it. Dorm food is bad. Stop scaring me!"

    Alex leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Fine, I''ll stop. But let me give you some advice."

    Amber raised an eyebrow. "Here we go."

    "Life at the academy will throw all kinds of challenges at you. Politics, rivalries, professors who think they''re gods... but you know what''ll keep you grounded?"

    Amber leaned in, expecting something profound.

    Alex grinned. "Snacks. Always keep snacks hidden. A bag of candied nuts can solve more problems than you''d think."

    Amber burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. "You''re impossible!"

    Alex laughed "Always remember, no matter how your day goes, you''ve got a home full of love waiting for you. I''m here to listen, to cheer you on, and sometimes¡­ to share a snack when things feel tough."

    A smile crept up on Amber''s lips, "Thanks, dad."

    By the time the next dish arrived¡ªa soup with water clear enough to reflect her face¡ªBut Amber was too relaxed and giggling to notice.

    Alex looked at her fondly. "You''ll do great, Amber. Just remember, no matter how bad the dorm food gets, you''re a Drakonis. We survive anything."

    Amber smiled, feeling a little braver about the journey ahead. "Thanks, again, Dad. Even if you''re a bit... dramatic."

    Alex chuckled. "Comes with the territory. Now, pass the truffle. I need to eat enough to make up for the meals I''ll miss when I come visit you at school."

    But before he could dig into his truffle soup, his face turned serious for a brief moment, Clarus is being attacked now? But it is still evening, did they make a mistake? Or is that person intervening?

    "What are you thinking about dad?" Amber had yet to notice the soup.

    Alex''s face returned to normal. "Nothing Amber, just enjoy the dish."

    Welcome, Sir, Miss.

    This way, distinguished guests.

    Thank you Gentleman

 Chapter 168 Who put out the lights?

    The sun of eternal light flickered once, twice, thrice... the light all faded, and the evening sun shone its orange hue on the city of light.

    The Vampires, although confused as to why their plans were pushed forward, did not hesitate to throw off their pilgrim attire and launch a full-scale attack on the Avians as soon as the lights dimmed. They surged forward, a tide of dark figures whose movements were both graceful and deadly. Their eyes glowed like embers in the fading light, and their fangs gleamed as they let out war cries that split the air.

    Flora just stared at the woman''s head rolling in front of her. "Sis...ter..." the woman weakly rasped as her eyes went blank. It was pure chaos around her, but she could not hear any of it. Her only focus was the head that lay there lifeless, caught in the brutal surprise attack.

    She did not know the woman''s name, but she had seen her and her family. The sister she referred to must have been the newborn girl in their household. Flora felt as though she were living in a dream, as if this would all end if she just woke up. Somehow, in the midst of this horror, she felt... safe, as if she were not part of this chaos.

    But the illusion shattered. Flora quickly collected herself as the noise and the voice of her father shouting slowly returned to her. The clash of metal, the screech of talons against claws, and the cries of pain filled the air like a macabre symphony.

    "Flora! Get out of your trance!" Solis roared as he cleaved through a Vampire with his radiant spear, Lux Divina, which erupted in a dazzling burst of light. "They won''t stop! Defend yourself or die!"

    Flora''s grip tightened around her glaive, a weapon she had trained with but never truly used in battle.

    "O'' spirits of the light," She raised the glaive and whispered a prayer, her voice was trembling but resolute, "guide my hand to justice. Illuminate the path of my blade, steady my heart, and shield me in your eternal radiance."

    As she spoke, the weapon''s blade shimmered with an iridescent glow, and the glyphs etched into her weapon flared to life, casting a shimmering glow across her body. Her wings unfurled, reflecting the light like mirrors, and for the first time, Flora felt a sliver of clarity. This was no dream. This was war.

    Solis nodded in his head as he watched his daughter get ready to fight and looked to the east where a group of Vampires where fighting a group of Avians.

    He coldly stared at them, his anger was boiling, but he had to keep his calm. He flew up high with just one flutter of his wings, cracks formed on the ground as he took off. Looking at the fight, he slowly lifted his spear and aimed at the group like a wand.

    "Light''s grace!" He said in a low, deep voice. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The evening sky opened up as bright light shined from above. A shaft of pure, blinding light pierced through the clouds, engulfing the city''s eastern quadrant in radiant brilliance., causing the Avians there to glance at their leader. "Go forth proud Avians," Solis called, his voice carrying across the city. "Show them no mercy as they are the god''s enemies."

    The Avians, everyone who heard the leader regardless of whether them being under the light or not, screamed as they fought harder, the ones under the light had already finished their business.

    Flora scanned the battlefield, her heart pounding as she searched for her sister. Not out of fear¡ªCeleste was more than capable¡ªbut out of a need to feel some semblance of normalcy in the chaos. She had always been with her sister all the time except when Celeste or she had other businesses to tend to.

    Her attention was torn away as a figure darted toward her, a Vampire woman wielding twin crimson blades that dripped with fresh blood. The Vampire moved like a polished predator, vaulting over buildings and using the city''s architecture to her advantage. As she leaped from the final rooftop, she spun midair, her leg outstretched in a deadly kick aimed at Flora.

    Flora barely avoided the blow, twisting her body at the last second¡ª she avoided it even though she saw it late, but the heavy wind from the Vampire''s strike slammed her into a nearby window, the glass shattering around her. Pain shot through her back, but she forced herself to her feet, gripping her glaive tightly.

    Luckily, Solis was still near her. Before the Vampire could close in, he intervened. In a blur of light, he appeared between them, his spear slicing through the air with trained accuracy. The Vampire''s body split diagonally, burning light trailing in the trace of Solis''s strike. He turned to Flora, his expression becoming stern.

    "Focus Flora, this is a battlefield. Whether you like violence or not, you have to fight in order to survive."

    "But I don''t want to be a killer." She complained, not knowing what to do, "Remember when I said I want to be a light envoy? I am a saint, what kind of saint would bloody her hands with murder?"

    Solis brushed her cheek, "Flora, in war, there are no saints. You can either die clinging to ideals or live to shape the world with them. It''s up to you to decide what kind of monster you''ll become¡ª a merciless one, a vengeful one, one who fights for something greater¡ª there are many. It is this senseless killing who create these monsters, and these monsters again create other monsters¡ª the entire history is a cycle of monsters creating monsters Flora."

    Flora looked at her father helplessly, "I am afraid to kill father."

    "Flora, it is not saints that create saints, but monsters who create saints. If you want to see true light, you must first walk through true darkness¡ª else even the candlelight might feel like it is enough." Experience tales with My Virtual Library Empire

    Solis looked at his hesitant daughter, "I will guide you. To punish those enemies of god."

 Chapter 169 What? You read? Who are you?

    "Haa! Liam, you look like you''ve been beaten to death by a demon." Judge burst into his big brother''s room like a chaotic hurricane of unwelcome energy, his grin as wide as a blimp.

    "What?" Liam replied in a tone so flat it could iron laundry, his glare screaming, Get out. He was hunched over his desk, surrounded by an imposing fortress of¡ª wait for it¡ª actual books. A rare sight indeed.

    "You''re¡­ reading? Like... real books? And they have no pictures in them? " Judge gasped dramatically, clutching his heart like he''d been personally betrayed by reality. His eyes darted around. "What kind of books? Principles?" He snatched one off the desk before Liam could stop him and gawked at it like it was a magical relic. "Principles? Oh no, it''s worse than I thought."

    "What are you doing in here?" Liam growled, his focus finally dragging away from his fortress of knowledge. "Yes, I was beaten by a demon, if you need confirmation. And yes, I''m currently trying to grow stronger. Now get out."

    Judge blinked, his grin widening. "Wow, that must have really knocked some sense into you, huh? Principles, Liam. Principles! Next thing I know, you''ll be lecturing me about posture."

    "Judge," Liam sighed, his patience thinning to translucent levels, "I have things to do before we leave. Serious things. Get out."

    "But wait!" Judge held up a hand, his expression turning smug. "I wanted to tell you about how I¡ª me¡ª defeated a demon. You know, one of those nasty things that put you in a sorry state." He puffed out his chest like a peacock on steroids.

    Liam froze mid-eye-roll, then slowly turned his head. His skepticism was so thick you could spread it on toast. "¡­I didn''t know you were trying stand-up comedy, Judge."

    "I''m serious!" Judge insisted, looking affronted. "It was a demon, a big nasty one! And I defeated it all by myself."

    "Oh, I see," Liam deadpanned, waving to summon the butler with an air of royal exasperation. "Your joke does need work, though. Even for a beginner, that''s abysmal."

    "I''m not joking!"

    "..."

    "..."

    The silence was so loud it could have had its own silent opera.

    Liam raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Right. And next, you''ll tell me Mother knits in her free time. I''m not buying it."

    "There were witnesses!" Judge insisted, leaning dramatically over the desk. "Mother''s old friend was there when it happened. She''s literally in the house right now. Go ask her!"

    Liam sighed, motioning toward the tea table. "Fine. Tell me about it. Entertain me with this elaborate fantasy of yours."

    "It is not a fantasy just so you know, it actually happened." Judge plopped down into a chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

    "Yeah, I will be the judge of that. Y''know judge as in judge and not Judge."

    "You need to really work on your jokes Liam, that was so bad I had a stroke" Judge quipped.

    Liam, ignoring Judge, Called the butler and muttered something to the guy, who exited the room and appeared moments later bearing a tray with tea and two generous slices of sippleberry cake.

    Judge eyed the cake with exaggerated suspicion. "What''s this? A bribe to soften me up?" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Consider it payment," Liam replied smoothly, pouring tea with the precision of someone who was absolutely going to regret this conversation. "Now, spill. How did you defeat a demon, oh mighty warrior?"

    Judge grinned like he''d won the lottery. "Oh, it''s a tale for the ages¡­"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    While the brothers were joking around with Judge''s story and Alex was having a pleasant meal with his daughter, Flora was having a fight to death with a Vampire who seemed to be in a state of nervousness, as if he was forced and had no choice but to fight. Like a hunting dog bound by its chain.

    But the guy''s skills were real, using everything present on the battlefield to his advantage, he kicked up a table that lay outside and then kicked it towards Flora, who cut the table in half as it was about to hit.

    "You fight well," she said as she cut the table, "What is your name, Vampire?"

    "A filthy Avian does not need to hear it." His voice was something beyond anger, despise? Frustration? or was it anger due to helplessness? She could not quiet put her mind in it.

    There was a goblet that floated as the table was flipped, the guy caught it mid-air, pulled back his arm, twisted his whole body on his leg, and threw it toward Flora. But the goblet shattered just as it touched her, which was her doing but it blinded her just for a moment.

    The Vampire jumped on a ledge and leaped towards her, punching her with all the force from the leap. Flora barely had time to react, the punch connected to her chest¡ª a slight sound of bone fracture was heard before she was launched backward, crashing into a wall with a loud thud. Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire

    But however empathetic Flora was, she was never someone to break down with a fracture. She got up from the rubble slowly, she groaned as she stabbed the glaive''s shaft in the ground and used it as a support to get herself up.

    "You''re skilled I can give you that," Flora said calmly as she spat the blood in her mouth and wiped her lips. "But that is not enough to put me down."

    "Relentless, just die already."

    "Why do you use no blades?" She asked as she steadied herself.

    But he did not reply, Flora barely had time to process the Vampire''s next movement. The air felt thick with tension, his eyes darting across the battlefield like a cornered animal, calculating every move. His form shifted slightly as he crouched, the muscles in his legs coiling like a spring before he darted forward with inhuman speed.

    Flora immediately flapped her wings, propelling herself into the air just as his fist slammed into the spot where she had stood. The force of his strike cracked the ground, sending shards of stone flying in all directions. She hovered above him, her breathing steadying as the glow of healing light coursed through her chest, mending the fracture he had inflicted.

    The healing was not much, it did not completely heal her, only slightly¡ª But it was enough for her to fight without worrying about her broken bones and ignore the pain.

    The Vampire didn''t let up. He leapt to a nearby lamppost, gripping it with clawed hands, and used it as a pivot to launch himself at her midair. His movements were fluid and vicious, almost animalistic. Flora twirled her glaive defensively in an arc, its blade slicing through the air with a soft whoosh.

    The Vampire''s claws scraped against the glaive''s shaft, sparks flying as he pushed off it to create space. He landed gracefully on the ground, his feet barely making a sound. Without pause, he hurled a broken piece of stone at her with deadly accuracy. Flora deflected it with a flick of her glaive, the sharp clang echoing through the battlefield.

    Flora could see his frustration mounting as he adjusted his stance, his gaze locking onto her with an intensity that was almost painful to endure. The Vampire''s movements became inconsistent yet precise, as though he was being driven by something other than instinct¡ªsomething darker, something desperate... something wild.

    He dashed forward again, this time feinting a strike. Flora braced herself, but it was a trick; he pivoted at the last moment, kicking a broken piece of rubble at her with bone-crushing force. She twisted her body just in time, the rubble skimming her thin, but durable cloth and grazing her arm. The sharp sting of pain was a reminder of how skilled her opponent was.

    The vampire came from behind, taking advantage of the moment she was occupied by the rubble. She had just enough time to bring her glaive to block the kick. But she was sent back, again.

    But this time, she had enough time to react as she had already unfurled her wings, before colliding, she flapped them to gain altitude. The vampire, seeing she was trying to fly up, tried to catch her before she did. But she just avoided his grab.

    The vampire landed on the ground while Flora floated in the air, her flapping was silent.

    Looking at the vampire who was scanning the whole terrain, and making sure there were no allies, she started to chant under her breath.

    O'' Heavens that reward the virtuous,

    O'' Heavens that loathe the sinners

    Rain your weapons of the divine,

    Punish the sinners who do not belong.

    She raised her glaive high, and the sky split as countless round portals appeared, radiating light from inside. Spears made of pure light appeared from within the portals.

    "Wrath of the light, Descent!" She shouted.

    The vampire tried to move, but he had been trapped the moment she began to chant. "Fight me fairly, despicable Avian." He shouted.

 Chapter 170 Divine wrath!... Yeah, no thanks

    "Wrath of the Light"

    Flora pointed her glaive to the sky with the kind of flair that would make a theater performer proud. The air around her crackled with radiant energy as countless bright portals appeared, shimmering like stars come too close to Earth.

    From each portal, a golden spear emerged, glowing with the intensity of miniature suns. The evening sky, bathed moments ago in a warm orange hue, was now glaringly bright¡ªdaylight had been rudely dragged back onto the scene.

    It was a sight to behold, though not everyone appreciated it. The Avians seemed thrilled, their feathers practically preening under the light, but the vampires? Not so much. Unlike her father''s legendary light, which could turn a vampire into a well-dressed pile of ash, Flora''s light merely irritated them. Think of it as an overpowered flashlight rather than a death ray.

    "Descent!" Flora roared, swinging her glaive with such force that the nearby rooftops shook. The golden spears shot down like divine ballistic missiles, each one promising fiery judgment.

    The vampire, a wiry figure with a face that looked like it hadn''t seen moisturizer in centuries, strained against the invisible force keeping him rooted in place. "Fight me fairly, despicable Avian!" he barked, his voice as raspy as sandpaper on a bad day.

    Flora didn''t even flinch. Her face tightened, her grip on the glaive ironclad. Fair? she thought. You jumped me in the middle of my village, broke my rib, and probably ruined dinner plans. Fairness took a hike about five moves ago.

    The spears descended with a deafening roar, but the vampire didn''t panic. Instead, a black mist began to swirl around him, coiling like smoke escaping a fire. Two faint eyes appeared behind him in the mist, cold and unblinking. The shadowy figure solidified into a hooded specter, complete with a scythe that screamed "Grim Reaper, but make it edgy."

    The eerie figure leaned over the vampire, who seemed to gain strength just from its presence. Muscles twitched and flexed, regaining control, and the vampire moved with a speed that would make a cheetah blush. He darted aside just as the spears collided with the ground, detonating in a spectacular display of light and debris.

    "You wish to know my name, Avian?" His voice had changed¡ªdeeper, echoing with an ominous undertone. "I am Antiochus¡­ and you will remember it in your final moments."

    Antio dodged another spear with an effortless leap, landing on a wall and pushing off like gravity was a mere suggestion. Another spear exploded behind him, sending a shockwave through the village square.

    "I thought this was your village," he said, his tone was unnervingly calm. The echoes of his voice, however, sounded downright furious, repeating his words like a malfunctioning megaphone. Flora blinked mid-battle. Why are the echoes angry? she wondered briefly, before shaking her head. No time for existential sound design questions.

    Antio moved like a dancer on a caffeine high, his reflexes borderline supernatural. Every spear that came near was dodged with precision that made Flora''s attacks look like a slow-motion training exercise. His speed, strength, and uncanny ability to react almost before she acted made him seem less like a fighter and more like an all-in-one nightmare factory.

    Enhanced strength, Incredible ability to observe and react, tough body, and either foresight or slowing down time. She gritted her teeth. Great. I''m up against a multipurpose Army knife with no actual knife. Heck, he doesn''t even have a weapon. This is fine.1

    He leaped from rooftops to ledges to windows, each movement fluid and purposeful, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Flora braced herself, waiting for the right moment. As he lunged, she dodged to the side, her wings unfurling to send her backward in a graceful arc.

    Antio wasn''t out of tricks. A thick black mist swirled around his legs, forming a makeshift platform beneath him. He stepped into the air like a protagonist from a cultivation novel, each step solid as stone. Flora barely had time to blink before a thin blade of mist materialized in his hand.

    The weapon was extremely thin, nearly invisible, but devastatingly sharp. He struck, and Flora raised her glaive just in time to block, though the impact sent a jolt through her arms. A thin line of blood appeared on her shoulder where the blade had grazed her.

    The force of the blow sent her spiraling back. She flapped her wings desperately, cushioning her fall just enough to avoid broken bones, but the landing still knocked the wind out of her.

    Antiochus hovered above, his silhouette framed by the setting sun. The horizon was painted in fiery reds and golds, but the light felt mocking now. Not nighttime yet, and I''m already getting clobbered, Flora thought, pushing herself up. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire

    She glanced at her arm and frowned. The wound wasn''t healing. The usual warmth of light-imbued ether was absent, repelled by some ominous force.

    Antiochus smirked, his eerie echo following suit. "Having trouble, Avian?"

    Flora gripped her glaive tighter, narrowing her eyes. "Not as much trouble as you''re about to have."

    Antio lunged forward, propelling from the black mist like spring. Flora darted to the left as he slashed again, his mist blade carving through the air with a sharp hiss.

    The ground where she had been standing split open, a gash torn into the cobblestone as though it were paper. She retaliated immediately, thrusting her glaive upward in a wide arc, its golden light streaking toward him like a comet.

    Antiochus tilted his head, dodging with humiliating ease, and countered with a spinning kick that Flora barely managed to block with the shaft of her glaive. The impact reverberated up her arms, and she was forced backward... again, her boots skidding across the uneven ground.

    Flora''s hand grew weak as she lost more blood from the wound. She had been trained multiple times, but she had rarely been wounded, and all her wounds were always healed almost immediately.

    She remembered her father giving her a pill to use in times of not being able to heal and being on the losing end.

    She injected some ether into her glaive and the iridescent glow of the blade started to grow, covering the whole blade in a moment''s time. She slashed the blade swiftly with all the strength her arm could muster.

    Antio, without doubt, dodged the blade. But Flora''s aim had already been fulfilled, she was aiming for a small moment, with enough time for her to swallow the yellow pill.

    The pill was supposed to provide her with the true power of the sun that is present within their bloodline. Something that would give her enough power to fight even in the dark.

    After she swallowed the pill whole, she did not feel the rush of power or anything dramatic like that, but she never doubted her father, and never will. She flew up, tore off a peace of clothe from her dress, and tied her cut to mask the healing she was about to do.

    Just as on queue, a massive dark dome appeared near the edge of the city, but Flora had not time to pay attention to it. Antiochus was still there...not?

    As soon as he saw the dome he smiled, "Sorry, gotta dip." he looked at her and dispersed into black mist. Flora just stayed there motionless, she just used a priced treasure and her enemy just escaped.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber stared into her bowl of "Golden Truffle Essence with a Hint of Moonlight," wondering why it was so clear that she could see her reflection, but so expensive it could have paid for her entire first semester."What''s wrong?" Alex asked, already halfway through his bowl. "It''s soup. You like soup."

    Amber cautiously took a sip. "It''s... fine. But why does it taste like water that got a motivational speech from a mushroom?"

    Alex laughed so loudly that several diners turned their heads. "You''ve got your mother''s sharp tongue. That''s going to be dangerous at the academy."

    Amber grinned, relaxing a little. "If I survive the dorm food, right?"

    "Exactly."

    The waiter returned with a cart laden with cheese wheels that he described with such passion that Amber felt like she was attending a theatrical performance.

    "This one," the waiter intoned gravely, pointing to a wedge of something green, "is aged in a cave blessed by the Goddess of Flavors herself."

    Amber bit her lip to keep from laughing. Alex, however, played along. "Ah, yes, the divine cheese. A must-have."

    When the waiter was gone, Amber leaned across the table. "Do you think he''s serious?"

    "Absolutely not," Alex said, cutting a piece of the green cheese and popping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, then grimaced. "Tastes like divine punishment, though."

    Amber snorted so loudly she nearly knocked over her glass of water. "Stop making me laugh!"

    By the time dessert arrived, Amber was in high spirits. The waiter placed a golden dome on the table and lifted it with a flourish, revealing a tower of spun sugar so intricate it looked like it might crumble under its own beauty. The dish was called "The Ether''s Caress."

    "Well," Amber said, staring at the dessert, "if I didn''t know better, I''d think they were trying to impress us."

    Alex grinned. "Take a picture with your memory, Amber. This is the kind of story you''ll want to tell your classmates when they''re eating mystery casserole." S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    I wanted to say Swiss army knife, but... context.

 Chapter 171 The grim reaper who deleted system32

    Celeste, like Flora, did not have it easy. But she could hold on due to the difference in skill.

    Flora was still a beginner in combat, but Celeste was one of the Luminarii¡ª the strongest soldiers of the Avians. And backed by her gifted bloodline, there may be a single handful of Avians who are stronger than her. Her father was one. And anyone else, if any, was not there in Clarus.

    She also uses a glaive like Flora, but their weapons had their own differences. There were no runes on Celeste''s blade, nor did it glow with iridescent light. But it was shaped like a raging flame with the blade on one side and the flames on the other.

    There was a gemstone with a scarlet hue on the guard collar¡ª a catalyst. Flora was not yet trained enough to get one. Since a reusable catalyst was extremely rare and hard to craft and keep stable¡ª only the trained Luminariis and the regent himself carries it around.

    The gemstone glowed and a red aura burned like flames on the blade. Celeste was flying, and so was her enemy. She (the vampire), had wings made of black mist and a figure that looked like a grim reaper behind her, though it never attacked.

    The vampire had introduced herself as Esthia, and another vampire who seemed to be superior in power was fighting Solis, her father, just a little away from her.

    The orange hue of the evening sky was not favorable towards either the Avians or the Vampires. There was no ample light for the Avians, nor was there enough darkness for the Vampires¡ª the fight was as fair as it could get.

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    Celeste spun her glaive, the scarlet flames licking the air in curls as she faced Esthia. The vampire hovered, her black mist wings throbbing with an eerie vibe that one always got from crazy horror movies. The grim reaper figure behind Esthia loomed ominously, but its inactivity was giving enough anxiety for Celeste to meet a therapist right after the fight..

    "Nice blade," Esthia quipped, her voice smooth as cotton dipped in poison. "But flames can''t burn the dead."

    Celeste''s lips curved into a smirk. "Good thing I''m not aiming to burn¡ªjust to carve a path through you. And for your information, these are not flames¡ª nothing much, but... don''t misunderstand."

    Without warning, Esthia darted forward, probably because Celeste said too much, her speed was like a shadow streaking under the flicker of a candle. Celeste barely had time to block as Esthia''s clawed hands scraped against the glaive''s guard. The clang of metal against metal nails that definitely broke the nail trimmer reverberated like a church bell struck too hard.

    Celeste pushed her glaive forward, forcing Esthia back. Flames erupted in a controlled arc, forcing the vampire to retreat midair with an agile flip.

    "Not bad," Esthia admitted. "But you''re slower than a snail in a marathon."

    "What the heck does that mean?" Celeste demanded, but then remembered her enemy said whatever she wanted and not actual facts.

    She sighed, launching herself forward with a downward slash. Esthia twisted, her form became a blur of dark mist, dodging the blow. Celeste adjusted, swinging the glaive horizontally. This time, flames erupted along its edge like a wildfire breaking through dry wood.

    Esthia blocked the strike with her misty wings, yeah they were not just mists (who knew), but the fiery aura cut through and scorched the edges. She screamed like a child getting wounded for the first time, and it was not even her body, her ghostly wings reforming almost instantly.

    "Oh, they do burn huh?" Celeste quipped.

    The grim reaper figure behind Esthia twitched but remained inert. Celeste noticed and made a mental note to stay alert.

    "You''re holding back," Celeste said, her voice steady despite the strain of the battle. "What''s the matter? Afraid of a fair fight?"

    Esthia grinned, her fangs gleaming. "Fair fights are for fools and heroes. Guess which one I''m not?"

    "The heroes... Duh! It is just that obvious."

    She raised her hand, and the mist around her condensed into a scythe. It wasn''t a real weapon but felt no less deadly as she swung it with practiced precision. Celeste parried the first strike, the clash sending sparks flying. The second strike came faster, the blade of mist scraping dangerously close to her shoulder.

    "You fight like a drunk chicken," Celeste taunted, twisting midair to dodge the next swing. "Flailing all over and hoping something hits."

    Esthia snarled, her attacks becoming more erratic but no less lethal. Celeste spun her glaive, using the momentum to deflect the misty blade and counter with a fiery thrust. Flames danced as the glaive''s point grazed Esthia''s arm, eliciting a sharp hiss.

    "Enough games," Esthia growled, her wings expanding as she dove straight at Celeste, the scythe aimed for her throat.

    Celeste shifted, narrowly avoiding the strike. She twisted her glaive in a wide arc, the flames roaring louder. This time, the fiery edge caught Esthia''s scythe, disintegrating part of the misty weapon. Celeste pressed her advantage, striking again and again, each blow forcing the vampire back.

    "You''re persistent," Esthia admitted, dodging another slash. "But persistence won''t save you."

    She snapped her fingers, and the grim reaper figure finally moved. It lunged forward, its massive, shadowy arms reaching for Celeste. She barrel-rolled in the air, the massive claws missing her by inches.

    "Didn''t your pet get the memo?" Celeste called out, twirling her glaive. "The fight''s between us."

    Esthia smirked. "Then try not to lose your head."

    The shadow lunged again, but this time Celeste was ready. She swung her glaive in a wide arc, the fiery aura expanding into a crescent-shaped wave. The attack tore through the shadow''s torso, splitting it in two. The grim reaper dissipated momentarily before reforming behind Esthia.

    "Cheap tricks won''t work on me," Celeste said, adjusting her grip. Her wings flared, and she shot upward, gaining distance. With a burst of energy, she dived down, glaive poised for a decisive strike.

    Esthia raised her scythe to block, but Celeste twisted at the last second, spinning to land a flaming kick to Esthia''s side. The vampire reeled, her misty wings faltering. Celeste followed up with a rapid series of strikes, each one driving Esthia closer to the ground.

    Finally, Celeste slammed the butt of her glaive into Esthia''s chest, sending her crashing into the rocky terrain below. The impact created a small crater, dust and debris swirling around the fallen vampire.

    Hovering above, Celeste leveled her glaive at Esthia, the flames still roaring. "Stay down, or I''ll turn you into ashes."

    Esthia coughed blood as she got up. But contrary to her state, a sly grin formed on her lips as she wiped them. "Bold of you to assume I''ll give up that easily."

    She retaliated, her eyes were now completely dark. Her scythe cleaved through the air and met Celeste''s glaive. The scythe got parried and countered with a barrage of stabs and slashes. Scarlet flame ate away at the scythe as it met the glaive''s blade every time. But it grew back quickly.

    Celeste''s glaive slashed through the air, the blade trailing scarlet embers as it clashed against Esthia''s dark scythe. Sparks erupted like fireflies in the night every time both clashed, the embers swallowed up the mist like lighting up a dark room with their light.

    Esthia''s right wing grew as the grim reaper behind her became the right wing. It held out its arm and a dark scythe with a large blade materialized from the mist, the shadowy hooded figure slashed the new scythe at Celeste.

    She tried to block it, and did just in time¡ª parrying the scythe and rotating herself to counterattack, at least that was her plan. But as was about to parry after letting the blade touch and her blade burned the other scythe from Esthia¡ª the grim reaper''s scythe handle disappeared.

    It was dispersed, the blade¡ª however, did not. It slashed through her chest and upper abdomen. The cut was deep and the pain that erupted was nothing to gawk at. She spat a mouthful of blood, which was burned before it fell. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Black mist appeared on the cut and started to devour her flesh through the wound, and she quickly made a retreat and screamed her lungs out due to the sheer pain. She could somehow feel her every cell that was being devoured.

    "Not so mighty are you now?" Esthia asked, but her voice had echoes that repeated what she said but in a shrieking voice. "Stay down, or I''ll turn you into nothing but mist."

    Celeste had her head down while screaming, she placed her hand on her wound. Her screams and painful cries stopped as her wound started to burn. She looked at her opponent. "Bold of you to assume I could be defeated with just this." Her bronze eyes gleamed as if the sun started to shine again. Although it was evening.

    "Let''s see how much more you can take," Esthia spoke, her voice neither arrogant nor mocking. Just an echo of countless voices that aced their exams in the "How to shriek while you speak" course.

 Chapter 172 The flamboyant spear, err... Glaive

    Celeste feinted a high swing, forcing Esthia to raise her scythe, then pivoted on her heel, delivering a passionate kick to Esthia''s knee.

    "You''re predictable," Celeste muttered, profiting on the vampire''s stagger by thrusting her glaive toward her unprotected side.

    But Esthia anticipated it, letting her body dissolve into mist as the glaive passed through. "Am I?" her echoing voice was as annoying as it could get. Which was highly annoying if you didn''t know.

    A glaive was a weapon that not many people from the race used since spears, they all thought, were better. But to some, glaive offered a more versatile use at the cost of having to train more. Celeste was on of the people who trained their whole body to the breaking point every day.

    The flame on her blade began to burn brightly, and her wound had stopped bleeding, although not healed.

    The air around her shimmered with heat, distorting Esthia''s figure. When the scythe came for her again, Celeste swirled her glaive, pulling the flames into a spiral that deflected the strike like a burning storm.

    Esthia''s echoes hissed, retreating, but her grim reaper loomed closer, extending its skeletal hand. It made a shadow on the ground and from it, spectral chains erupted, lashing out to ensnare Celeste''s legs.

    "You''ll have to do better," Celeste mocked, slamming her glaive into the ground. A pulse of light erupted, shattering the chains into fading embers.

    Celeste darted to the side, avoiding the arc of Esthia''s scythe, which cleaved through a white wall, but now charred and soiled due to the ongoing fight.

    The wall shattered, its shards hurled in every direction. Thinking fast, Celeste caught a fragment mid-air and hurled it back at Esthia, her glaive''s flames igniting the projectile.

    The vampire swatted it aside as if she had anticipated it, burning some of her mist in the process, only for Celeste to use the distraction to close the distance, driving her glaive upward in a blazing arc.

    "You can''t win, Celeste," Esthia whispered, "Not against the mist you can''t. Those are made to include my predecessors'' skills." The grim reaper attacked her next, which she easily avoided while parrying Esthia.

    Her heart pounded after hearing where the grim repeat got skills from, but she forced a smirk. "Then you know what''s coming next."

    Before Esthia could respond, Celeste threw her glaive into the air, its flames erupting like a flash bomb. The sudden burst of light blinded the vampire, buying Celeste the split second she needed to close the gap and drive her knee into Esthia''s gut.

    She retreated back and caught her glaived and held it sideways. She bent forward slightly and rushed at an unimaginable speed¡ª something that even the grim reaper behind Esthia could not see.

    The blade cut cleanly through Esthia''s neck, and her lifeless body fell to the ground. But there was no blood anyhow, black mist started to seep out of her body, and the grim reaper seeped into Esthia, like it was becoming a part of her.

    Celeste spat out another handful of blood, but they did not burn and hit the ground. "It takes such a toll on my body," She complained to herself.

    Her body was swallowed by mist and it started to thicken around her, obscuring her figure. Celeste''s grip on her glaive tightened, her sharp eyes scanning the swirling fog.

    As the mist thickened, Celeste gritted her teeth. She couldn''t see, but she could feel the oppressive air of Esthia''s presence growing.

    Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in her side as a black blade pierced her ribs. She did not see it coming. But instead of retreating, Celeste grabbed the blade with her hand, letting her fire consume it.

    She flew up and held her glaive toward the mist sphere. The catalyst on her weapon started to glow as her cold bronze eyes focused on the entirety of the place her attack was going to be. "Fly up Avians, grab the pilgrims!" She shouted at the fighting Avian and pilgrims and turned her attention back on the sphere.

    Celeste opened her mouth and voiced her attack slowly.

    "Lacus ex Inferno"

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    She closed her eyes slightly before opening them again, the bronze iris started to glow brightly in a golden color. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The ground beneath Celest began to boil, and all the Avians fighting flew up. Except for a couple who were caught by the Vampires they were fighting against¡ª but one managed to throw the vampire onto the ground, while the other was thrown to the ground first.

    Everyone on the ground started to scream as the ground gave way to lava. Even a handful of pilgrims who were fighting the vampires got caught up in the chaos. But some Avians managed to rescue them, regretfully leaving three on the ground.

    All the people left on the ground began to burn as they all squirmed and fought each other to escape. Some stepped on others, their comrades, while some grabbed others with them while trying to escape.

    It was an ugly sight, the kind of sight you see in the depths of hell. The boiling river ate up bodies while they tried to escape using anyone present. This was a true Lacus ex Inferno, in other words¡ª a lake from hell. But its power diminished due to the lack of sunlight.

    The screaming quieted down in a few moments'' time, but the mist¡ª her actual target¡ª was not affected. The mist got thickened, but like an experienced fighter, she did not wait for whatever was coming.

    She held the glaive sideways and the blade grew in size. Holding the shaft with both hands, she rushed forward with a flap of her wings, aiming to cut the mist in half.

    It was quick, precise, and practically was nothing to write describe about. A single slash cut the mist in half, and the body inside dispersed into black mist and vanished.

    Now you might be thinking, did it end just like that? Of course not.

    The next thing Celeste knew after wondering why it ended just like that, the sky started to get opened like a zip lock. They parted like window curtains, and the darkness beneath it began to grow.

    Light went out like someone blew out the candles and darkness encapsulated the whole place.

 Chapter 173 The REAL dark dome

    Solis was not having a good time, no sir. His day, which was supposed to be uneventful, had spiraled into chaos faster than he could blink. He was too busy mentally screaming while keeping a worried eye on Flora, his youngest daughter. She was out there, sword in hand, trying to fight like a hero but also, you know, not die. It was a tough balancing act, to say the least, and Solis could feel his nerves fraying with each passing moment.

    And let''s be real, an all-out brawl wasn''t exactly on his "Welcoming the Pilgrims" agenda. Nope, not helpful at all. Who could''ve guessed that the day would devolve into flying debris, glowing scythes, and bloodlust-driven chaos? Now, instead of quietly wrapping up the event, he was stuck dealing with a super-strong enemy who had decided that Solis was his personal sparring partner. Lucky him. Truly, the gods must be laughing.

    Like any honorable warriors¡ªor just people who couldn''t skip formalities¡ªthey kicked things off with introductions. Because, of course, it''s polite to exchange names before trying to beat each other senseless. Manners, even in battle, mattered.

    The vampire went first, practically oozing smugness. "Lester," he said, his tone dripping with superiority. "Captain of the Third Hunting Team."

    Finally, thought Solis, a name that doesn''t sound like it came from a haunted poetry book. Not that it made a difference. Names weren''t going to stop anyone from swinging weapons. Still, it was nice not to have to stumble over something ridiculous.

    Solis gave the vampire a flat look, crossed his arms, and muttered, "Solis." No excitement, no drama. Just his name. End of story. The vampire blinked, likely wondering if he''d just been disrespected or if Solis was saving all his energy for the actual fight.

    Spoiler: it was definitely the first one.

    The evening sun was just about to dip below the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over the battlefield. It was the kind of lighting artists would immortalize in paintings, but there was no time to appreciate it. For the Avians, the setting sun was an ominous reminder of their dwindling advantage. Darkness was coming, and with it, a night tilted in favor of the vampires. They thrived in it, their strength amplified under the veil of shadow.

    Solis could see other skirmishes erupting nearby. Vampires swarmed with calculated chaos, their movements precise and coordinated, while the strongest ones were being handled by the Luminarii. The air was filled with the clash of steel, shouts, and the occasional explosion of ethercraft. But Solis''s focus remained locked on Lester, who just stood there, scythe in hand, as if daring Solis to make the first move. The confidence radiating from the vampire was infuriating.

    The standoff ended with Lester rushing forward, his scythe''s purple blade gleaming menacingly. Etched into its center was a dark blue catalyst that pulsed faintly, adding an eerie glow to the black handle. Solis spun his spear effortlessly, deflecting the attack and ducking just in time as the misty blade of a spectral grim reaper slashed past his head. He had seen enough battles to know that catalyst-enhanced weapons were not to be taken lightly.

    "Not something I want to block," Solis muttered, recalculating his distance with each of Lester''s fluid strikes. His opponent was skilled, no doubt about that. Every swing of the scythe was precise, lethal, and delivered with unnerving speed. But there was something¡­ underwhelming about him. This wasn''t the challenge Solis had expected. It felt like Lester was testing him, gauging his strength rather than truly trying to kill him. That realization didn''t sit well.

    Still, his gaze flickered toward the skirmish where Flora fought. Her blade barely scratched her opponent, her movements desperate but determined. Though she dodged the vampire''s lunge, Solis felt a pang of worry. She was fighting with heart, but heart alone wouldn''t keep her alive. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus. Celeste, his firstborn, was nearby too, and while he had faith in her abilities, Flora''s inexperience made her a liability in this chaos.

    ''Stay focused,'' he reminded himself, deflecting another strike. His instincts told him something was off. Why attack in the evening? Why not wait for full darkness? The most probable answer was that this assault was just one part of a larger plan.

    Lester stepped back, his scythe glowing brighter as the catalyst pulsed again. A jagged arc of blue lightning coursed through the blade. Solis didn''t wait to find out what would happen next. He spread his wings and launched into the air as Lester brought his weapon down with a deafening roar. The blade''s energy exploded outward, sending a shockwave that cracked the cobblestones and tore through a nearby building. Debris flew in every direction, a wooden cart bursting apart and scattering fruit and trinkets across the street. A large chunk of rubble crashed where Solis had stood moments ago.

    He barely had time to dodge a flying wooden beam before stabilizing himself mid-air. Lester was already preparing for another strike when a new presence emerged behind Solis. He spun just in time to block a slash from another vampire.

    "Now who might you be?" Solis asked, his tone calm but laced with annoyance. "Let me guess, captain of the Second Hunting Team?"

    "Close," the vampire replied, stepping back with a smirk. "Edgar, captain of the Fourth."

    Solis''s eyes darted around as more figures materialized from black mist. One by one, six vampires appeared, each radiating an aura of authority. They formed a loose circle around him, their confidence palpable. It wasn''t just confidence¡ªit was the assurance of hunters who had cornered their prey.

    "A pleasure to finally cross blades with you, Avian Solis. Regent of the Avians. Warrior of Light," Edgar said, his voice dripping with mock respect.

    "Seems like you''ve done your homework," Solis replied dryly. He raised his spear, light gathering at its tip. "Let''s get this over with, shall we?" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Edgar grinned, but before he could respond, Solis cut him off. "No need for introductions. Captains One through Six, I presume? Let''s skip the pleasantries."

    "What a shame," Edgar said. "It''s our first and last conversation, after all. Have a pleasant sleep, Regent of Light."

    Solis frowned. "What nonsense are you¡ª"

    He stopped mid-sentence as another vampire stepped forward, his deep voice commanding attention. This one carried an air of leadership, his presence more menacing than the rest.

    "We''re talking about this," the vampire said, raising his arms in a T-pose. Behind him, the sky split open like a curtain, revealing a void of pure darkness. The horizon darkened unnaturally fast, the edges of a dome swallowing the evening sky like ink spreading across parchment.

    Solis''s grip on his spear tightened as realization struck. Every second wasted brought his people closer to being trapped. ''Enough games,'' he growled, light blazing around his spear''s tip.

    He subconsciously looked at the fighting Avians and pilgrims, everyone tried to escape the dome, except for him and three luminarii present¡ª one of them being Celeste, his daughter.

    The vampires all seems to have vanished leaving only the captains.

    Solis cursed, he had to make the dome disappear before it was fully formed¡ª it felt dangerous.

    But he refrained, that might also be what the enemies want. He did not know anything about the attack and if he were to attack it blindly¡ª it might backfire on him instead.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Satan and Gabriel were recording two parts of the fight, though neither seemed particularly thrilled about their assignments. Satan opted for the fight involving Solis, muttering something about needing "proper lighting and theatrics" for the footage to really shine.

    Gabriel, on the other hand, drew the short straw¡ª or so he claimed¡ª and ended up tailing a Luminarii who was busy slicing through vampires like they owed him money. "Could we at least get a bloodless option?" Gabriel sighed, dodging a severed vampire limb with a well-practiced, but unnecessary, fineness¡ª since they are intangible and all.

    The group hadn''t originally planned to visit this particular battleground. In fact, Satan had spent most of the morning lobbying for a coffee break, while Gabriel was sketching rough storyboards for an entirely different conflict.

    But somehow, they all felt an inexplicable pull toward this place. It was the kind of pull that suggested either destiny or a really good buffet, though it was unclear which.

    Lucifer, Asmodeus, and the newly appointed Barachiel also found themselves arriving as if drawn by an unseen force. Lucifer, with his usual flair for delegation, immediately suggested that only two of them stay to record. "There are other stories that need capturing," he said, adjusting his immaculate collar as if he were auditioning for Recorder of the Year.

    The others agreed, mostly because disagreeing with Lucifer often led to long-winded monologues about pride and a recorder''s responsibility. Gabriel quietly stifled a yawn while Satan gave an exaggerated bow.

    The recorders then split up. Asmodeus, like the lone wolf she was (or so she insisted, despite her tendency to monologue loudly to herself), wandered off solo. Meanwhile, Barachiel found herself paired with Lucifer, who took it upon himself to teach her the ropes of being a recorder. Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire

 Chapter 174 So... Whos Actually Paying for All This Damage?

    The battlefield was a total mess. Solis barely had time to think as the darkness from the dome encroached over them, swallowing up the sunset like it had been waiting all day for this moment. The Captains stood there like they owned the place, their eager expressions betrayed the calm air they tried hard to keep.

    Solis''s grip on his spear tightened. "Celeste!" he called out, his voice cutting through the noise of clashing steel and shouts. "That dome is bad news. We''ve gotta stop it from closing in!"

    Celeste turned toward him, her bronze eyes blazing¡ª but confused as to where her opponent went. But she looked just as intense as always, her glaive''s blade stopped its flames and started to radiate intense light. "Got it, Dad," she said firmly. She glanced at the other two Luminarii nearby. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You two," Her tone was not a command in any aspect, but it felt like one. "With me. We''re hitting the left side of that thing!"

    The Luminarii didn''t even hesitate, they were equal when it came to ranks, and she had no right to issue command to them¡ª but this was not time to argue.

    They moved fast, like they''d practiced for this a million times (They actually did). Celeste dashed toward the dome, her glaive carving through the air with the blade leaving trails of golden light. The other two followed her lead, the catalyst on their spears started to light up intensely as they started to build up their next move.

    But the Captains weren''t just going to stand there and watch. Edgar, the one who''d been running his mouth earlier, raised a hand, and shadows erupted from the ground like snakes, lashing toward the Luminarii. "You think we''d make it that easy?" he taunted, his grin was wide with sharp edges.

    Solis jumped in, spinning his spear to block the attack before it could hit Celeste. The light from his weapon clashed with the shadows, scattering them like smoke. "Focus on the dome!" he yelled. "I''ll handle these fools!"

    "Handle us?" Edgar sneered, stepping closer. "Big words for a bird about to lose his wings."

    "Less talking, more fighting," Solis shot back. "Come at me at once if you have the guts."

    "Are you sure? You might come to regret those words later." The deep-voiced vampire said as he raised his hand.

    A red orb formed and shot a beam toward Solis at an intense speed which he barely had the time to react to. But he spun his spear with infused ether for durability¡ª and deflected the red beam, but the recoil was enough for him to flinch.

    He rushed forward toward the deep-voiced captain, but he vanished¡ª forcing Solis to change his target.

    He thrust his spear forward, and a burst of light exploded from its tip, forcing Edgar to back off. But before Solis could press the attack, another Captain¡ªa woman with long, flowing hair and a curved scythe¡ª appeared in front of him, her scythe swinging toward his head.

    Solis ducked, barely avoiding the blade, then twisted around to counter. His spear struck her weapon with a sharp clang, and the impact sent a jolt up his arm. She was strong¡ª really strong. Her strikes came in quick, precise bursts, each one taking a toll on his body as he blocked the swift yet heavy barrage.

    "What? You do not seem so full of yourself now." The woman asked in a mocking tone.

    "Oh sorry," Solis smiled, "You were too weak for me to be full of myself."

    She didn''t seem amused (Who would when it''s you being mocked). Her attacks sped up, each swing aimed precisely at the opening in his defense. Solis parried, dodged, and countered where he could, but it was clear she wasn''t playing around.

    "Is this too weak?" Solis muttered under his breath, mostly to himself but with another motivation.

    "Huh? Getting weak are we?" The woman was now fully amused.

    Two other captains joined in on the fight. Pushing Solis back. Two other captains went to stop the Luminarii, but the most dangerous one was not to be seen anywhere¡ª the deep-voiced one who looked like their captain.

    Meanwhile, Celeste and her team were going all out on the dome. She leaped into the air, her glaive slashing in wide arcs that sent golden beams crashing against the dark barrier. The other two Luminarii followed suit, their strikes lighting up the battlefield as they tried to tear the dome apart.

    One of the Captains, a tall man with a dark green scythe stepped into their path. "You won''t break it in time," he said, his voice seemed calm and assured. He swung his scythe in a wide arc, and a wave of shadow surged toward the trio.

    Celeste didn''t flinch. She flipped forward, spinning like a whirlwind as her glaive''s light cut through the dark wave. "Keep hitting it!" she shouted to her team. "I''ll handle him!"

    The Captain smirked. "Brave, but foolish," he said, lunging at her with a speed that made the air whistle.

    Back with Solis, things weren''t looking great. The dome was nearly halfway closed now, and every second spent fighting felt like another nail in the coffin. Solis gritted his teeth, his wings flaring out as he shoved his spear forward in a desperate attempt to break through his opponent''s defenses. He managed to knock one back, but the effort left him open for just a second too long.

    That was all Edgar needed. He appeared behind Solis, his scythe cutting through the air toward his back. Solis spun around just in time, blocking the blade with his spear, but the force of the hit sent him stumbling.

    "You''re getting slow, Regent," Edgar said with a chuckle. "Maybe you''re not as legendary as the stories say."

    Solis glared at him, light beginning to pulse around his spear. "Legendary enough to end this fight," he shot back, his voice filled with forced determination.

    He raised his spear high, and the light around it exploded into a brilliant flash. The Captains recoiled, shielding their eyes as Solis launched into the air. The glow from his weapon grew brighter and brighter, until it felt like the whole battlefield was bathed in sunlight.

    Solis took aim at the dome and threw his spear with all his strength. It shot forward like a comet, a streak of light tearing through the darkness as it headed straight for the dome''s center.

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    The Captains'' eyes widened. "Stop!" Edgar roared dramatically, but his voice was not aimed at nothing¡ª he was actually commanding the grim reaper behind him. A shadow crept over toward the flying spear, grabbing the end of its handle, but it was too late.

    The spear struck the dome with a deafening crash, and the entire structure shuddered. Cracks spread across its surface like spiderwebs, and for a moment, it seemed like the whole thing might collapse.

    But the dome held, just barely, and the cracks began to heal themselves. Solis''s heart sank. "No way¡­" he muttered, landing back on the ground. The Captains looked smug again, their confidence returning.

    "You''re out of time," Edgar said, his grin returning. "The night belongs to us."

    Solis clenched his fists, and the spear appeared back in his hand again. A smirk crept over his lips.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The morning sun slowly crept in as the drakonis family started to board their CloudStrider headed for the family house in Wistmere.

    Judge was perched up in his grandfather''s hands, and Liam¡ª against his extreme protests about being old enough to walk on his own¡ª was being held by Seraphis. His face was enough to tell anyone that he was not in a good mood, but Seraphis was smiling.

    "Grandpa?" He looked at the face behind a short trimmed pristine white beard. "Mom and Melina said we won''t go out of the house until we turned ten, but why were we let out of the house then?"

    "Huh?" Gereon looked at Judge, amused, "You''re asking this now?"

    "I was too excited to ask before, and now seems like the right time."

    His grandfather laughed lightly as they got inside, "It was not just words, she really tried to not let all of you go out, but it is mandatory for a Drakonis boy to head out accompanied by two trained guards while they are four."

    "Boys? So Amber didn''t go?"

    "I mean She wanted to, but your mother won''t let her even after we all said her to let her."

    "Why though?" He was even more confused, "Won''t it serve as a good experience at a young age?"

    "That is the aim," Gereon walked into Judge''s room inside the ship. "But your mother had a bad experience with such an arrangement."

    "Did she lose someone?"

    "No she did not lose anyone, it''s not such a sad story," Gereon lowered Judge on his bed, "but I will tell you when we have time."

    "Aww! You have work Grandpa?" Judge asked disappointingly, almost as if he was a four-year-old (Technically he is, but...), "Tell me a time then."

    "A time huh," Gereon rubbed his beard, "How about before bed, I might be free at that time."

    "It''s a promise okay."

    "K''ay Judge." Gereon Smiled brightly and left the room.

    Night huh? Judge looked at the desk set up and the box with artifacts nearby.

    "Solarae," He called his spirit after making sure there was no one nearby by using a quick ether search.

 Chapter 175 Solaraes TED talk on psyche

    Judge placed his hand against the wall like he was trying to absorb some ancient wisdom from the wood. He squinted dramatically, as if concentration alone could give him answers. Predictably, there was no one nearby. No whispers, no lurking shadows, just the faint creak of the Cloud Strider taking off from its dock. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Figures," he muttered, dropping his hand. It wasn''t like he expected someone to be lurking outside, but old habits die hard. Paranoia came with the job.

    "Solarae!" he called, addressing his spirit companion, loud enough to make it clear he was annoyed. He hadn''t taken Solarae along when he left the house earlier, partly because the spirit had refused outright. Something about ''being a liability with his current strength''.

    From the box of artifacts sitting near the side of his study, a faint glow flickered. The light hesitated for a moment¡ª probably on purpose¡ª before floating lazily into the air. It looked like a tiny firefly, except less motivated.

    "You called, Master?" the orb said, its voice felt like it had woken up from a nap it didn''t want to end.

    The light began to grow, forming a thin silhouette that eventually morphed into something vaguely human. Solarae''s form was still unimpressive¡ª tall and lanky with messy dark hair¡ª but he had a slightly healthier glow than usual, less pale and less skinny. Judge wasn''t sure if it was a sign of progress or just good lighting. Talking about lighting, the guy''s hair started to reflect all the light there was like a damn mirror.

    "Don''t act so smug," Judge said, falling backward onto his bed. "You''ve been freeloading in that box all day. At least pretend you''re useful."

    "My liege," Solarae replied, bowing with exaggerated finesse. "I live only to serve."

    "Yeah, yeah. So, any updates? Memories coming back yet? Or are we still stuck in the tragic amnesia phase?"

    Solarae knelt like a knight swearing fealty, though the effect was ruined by the faint smile on his face. "Recovering my memories will require strength, my lord. And as I''ve mentioned, I am not yet strong enough."

    "Great. So, where are we at, strength-wise? Halfway there? A third? Or are we still at the ''weak and helpless'' stage?"

    Solarae shook his head. "Not even a quarter, Master."

    Judge groaned, draping an arm over his eyes like a bored theater actor. "Unbelievable. You can''t speed this up? Multitask a little? Strength and memories? You know, efficiency?"

    "My lord," Solarae said with the exhaustion of someone explaining algebra to a toddler, "it is technically possible. But doing so would be... unwise."

    "Unwise how?" Judge arched a brow.

    "My lord," Solarae began, his tone taking on the patience of someone explaining why you don''t microwave metal, or glass, "recovering memories now would risk overwhelming my psyche. The principles I once knew are far beyond my current psyche''s capacity."

    Judge peeked out from under his arm. "What happens if your psyche gets overwhelmed? Do you start seeing things? Froth at the mouth? Explode?"

    "The mildest outcome," Solarae said, gesturing with one hand like he was delivering a lecture, "would be a headache so severe that you''ll wish for death. The more serious cases involve madness, with strange voices whispering bizarre ideas into your mind, delusions of grandeur, and eventually losing all grip on reality. Some might think it''s some ancient evil guiding you, but no¡ª it''s just your own brain turning against you."

    "Fantastic," Judge muttered. "Sounds like a party."

    He sat up and wandered over to his desk, grabbing a random trinket to fidget with. "So, let me get this straight: your psyche is like a box, and principles are... what? Stuff you shove inside it?"

    "Not quite there, but it could be said so," Solarae said, nodding. "But if the box is too small and you try to cram too much in, it breaks. Or worse, it tries to expand too quickly and¡ª "

    "Boom. Got it," Judge interrupted, waving him off.

    He twirled the trinket between his fingers, frowning slightly. "I had this massive headache once after using Enhanced Cognition for too long. Was that my psyche breaking down or what?"

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    Solarae stood, crossing his arms. "Psyche doesn''t deplete, Master. It''s your brain''s capacity to understand principles¡ª it can grow over time but never diminishes. What you experienced was likely ether depletion. Ether fuels principles to create ethercrafts, and when you run out, your body starts to feel the strain. Push too far, and you risk ceasing to exist altogether."

    "Cease to exist?" Judge raised an eyebrow. "Like, poof? Gone? Just like that?"

    "More like a gradual fade," Solarae said with a shrug. "First, you''ll feel exhausted. Then, your form will start to unravel, and finally¡ª poof."

    Judge squinted at him. "You make it sound way too casual for something that terrifying."

    "I''ve seen worse," Solarae said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

    "Right." Judge set the trinket down. "But what about that headache? It didn''t feel like just being tired."

    "Master," Solarae said, his tone shifting to something like mild exasperation, "did you actually understand the principle behind the ethercraft you were using?"

    "...Not exactly," Judge admitted.

    "There''s your answer. That seems like the case of a divine blessing, a divine power likely powered your ethercraft. When that ran out, that principle starts to depend on your psyche, and it clearly wasn''t up to the task."

    "Lovely," Judge muttered. "Okay, next question. My mom sealed my extreme emotions so I wouldn''t accidentally blow up the house or something. Was that really necessary?"

    "Absolutely," Solarae said, nodding firmly. "Unchecked divine power can be incredibly dangerous, especially when tied to volatile emotions."

    "Define dangerous," Judge said, narrowing his eyes.

    But before Solarae could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Judge froze, his eyes darting to the door.

    "Dragons value privacy," he muttered under his breath. "So whoever''s knocking better have a good reason."

    Solarae wasted no time reverting to his light-ball form. He zipped back into the artifact box like a kid hiding from chores.

    Judge sighed, straightening his vest and brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. "Interruptions... the bane of my existence."

    He strode to the door, muttering under his breath about how he was starting to miss the peace of being alone.

 Chapter 176 Dads Got a Dome and Ive Got Questions

    "Master?"

    Judge stared at the figure outside his door, blinking as if he had just seen a ghost. Unfortunately, it wasn''t some ethereal spirit coming to offer him peace and quiet¡ªit was Seraphis, standing there like she''d just gotten back from single-handedly conquering a small country. The words "got extra work for you" were practically tattooed across her forehead.

    And then, as if the universe hadn''t punished him enough today, Eleyn popped up from behind her like an overly enthusiastic stage prop.

    "I''m here too, Judge," she chirped, her tone too sweet for comfort. He felt dangerously at ease when he heard that.

    Judge''s stomach sank. This was bad. This was Mom and her Best Friend Tag-Teaming to Ruin My Day bad.

    "By the way," Eleyn added, stepping into his room without any restrictions, it was her child''s room after all, "I sensed your spirit earlier. Where did it go?"

    Judge sighed deeply, a sigh that carried the weight of every frustration he had ever experienced. "He went into hiding the moment he sensed you both."

    Eleyn raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Hiding? From me? Judge, for the record¡ª I am loved by the spirits, unless your spirit has the same nasty personality as you"

    "Cut me some slack Mom, at least in the consideration of me being your son."

    Seraphis, on the other hand, skipped past the niceties entirely. "Cut the small talk." She barged into the room with the confidence of someone who had already decided they owned it.

    Judge pinched the bridge of his nose... and sighed (again), muttering something unintelligible about boundaries. "By all means, make yourselves at home, even though we are technically on a ship," he said dryly, stepping aside to let the chaos unfold.

    Seraphis flopped onto the couch with the grace of a battle-worn warrior, Eleyn following behind her with far more poise.

    Judge, accepting whatever fate had in store for him, sank into the green couch opposite them. Between them sat a coffee table that served no real purpose except to awkwardly fill space.

    "Alright," Judge said, leaning back and trying to look anywhere but at the two most intimidating women in his life. The coffee table looked extremely well polished, and it served as the anchor point of Judge''s eyes for the time being. "What''s this about?"

    Seraphis leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, exuding the energy of someone about to drop a bombshell. "I told your mother about all the purple eyes I''ve found during my travels."

    Judge froze for half a second, his mask of indifference almost cracking. Purple eyes. Oh no. He nodded stiffly, hoping to keep the conversation moving before Eleyn''s detective instincts kicked in.

    "Mhm," he managed, playing it cool. Technically, he was the one who had fed Seraphis that information in the first place. To her credit, she''d done an excellent job of keeping his involvement under wraps. The last thing he needed was his mother interrogating him about how he knew things he shouldn''t know.

    "And," she said, dragging out the word like it was a rare delicacy, "I also told your mother that you promised to help." Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

    Judge stared at her, his brain stuttering to process what she''d just said. "WHAT?!"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Father!" S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Flora cried out, her voice cutting through the heavy air as she darted toward the massive dome forming ahead. Her wings flapped like a human-sized hummingbird on crack, but as she approached, an invisible force knocked her back like a bad joke that just wouldn''t land.

    She winced and hovered mid-air, her wings now beating normally because¡ªsurprisingly, flapping wings faster takes up a lot of energy. She shook her head to clear the buzzing in her ears.

    Around her, other avians were having the same luck¡ªor rather, lack thereof. The air around the dome was filled with the annoying sound of countless flapping like there was some massive immigration campaign for birds going on.

    On both sides of her, fellow avians were throwing every attack they could muster at the dome like overly eager moths to a flame. "Nope. Nope. Still nope," Flora muttered under her breath, watching one particularly determined bird bounce off with a grunt that sounded like it came from deep in his soul.

    She flapped back a bit, giving herself a breather to think. The dome itself wasn''t just some random wall¡ªit felt strong and sinister. And her father, Regent Solis Venthart, wasn''t one to sit quietly when he was being swallowed up by a giant dome. Who would sit idly when they are being swallowed up by a giant black dome?

    The Venthart family name carried weight¡ªlike the kind of weight that made people pause mid-sentence and reconsider their choice of words.

    Only the ruling family with direct bloodline ties could use the name, and while branch members existed as a backup plan, in case the current ruling family disappeared overnight, everyone knew the true power rested with Solis, his wife Tserina, and their two daughters, Celeste and Flora.

    Flora bit her lip, flapping her wings and looking over to the Luminarii who came to help. Her father should have been lighting up the battlefield like an avian-sized beacon of hope by now, but there wasn''t even a hint of the dazzling light skills he was known for.

    "Okay, brain," she muttered, tapping her temple as if that would help it work faster. "Let''s think this through. Either he can''t use light skills right now, or he''s keeping his cards close to his chest. But can''t he finish this through, the sun is about to disappear, I think."

    She chewed on that thought, hovering in place as her mind raced. If the sun had set completely, she could understand him holding back¡ªlight-based powers didn''t exactly work well in pitch-black darkness. But the sun wasn''t gone yet. It was hanging low on the horizon, painting the dome in hues of gold and crimson. Her father could use his powers. Which meant...

    "He''s up to something," she realized aloud, her stomach twisting with equal parts dread and determination.

    Flora''s wings angled back, and she pushed herself higher for a better view. She closed and opened her eyes, they now shined like polished gold. This was her principle of perceiving life in the vicinity, now she could even see silhouettes of living beings in the vicinity.

    And then she saw it.

 Chapter 177 Who Said That? Oh Wait, Im Out Cold

    Regent Solis wasn''t flailing or panicking like the avians outside the dome. He was holding back and making it so that he was being beaten, every action and gesture of his was deliberate. Flora''s eyes narrowed as her heart skipped a beat. He knows exactly what he''s doing.

    Then there was her sister and a few other Avians, all of them moved as if they were panicking. But she could tell otherwise, they had caught on to the fact that her father was planning something.

    Her father''s stance screamed strategy, not desperation. But what kind of strategy? Was he luring something in? Keeping something out? Was this part of some grand plan he conveniently forgot to share with his youngest daughter?

    "Of course, he''d keep me in the dark," Flora muttered, rolling her eyes. "Classic Dad move."

    She deactivated her eyes of perception since it used up a lot of ether, she replenished her ether reserves through the small catalyst on her necklace. "Why am I complaining?" She said to herself, "He hadn''t had the time for it due to the attack."

    Her thoughts were interrupted by a nearby avian crashing into the barrier after a slight flight mishap. "Oof! That thing''s solid!" the poor guy groaned, clutching his side as he spiraled downward.

    Flora winced sympathetically but didn''t have time to help. Her father''s actions demanded her full attention now.

    Focus, Flora. What''s his angle? she wondered, her mind running through the possibilities like a detective piecing together a case.

    As she watched the dome, she understood one thing. The dome, at least currently, served only one purpose. It is to keep the sunlight out. But it has not been formed completely and it might take a while for it to do so. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But that was more of a question than an answer, if everything she heard about the night was correct. Then it should start the moment the sun sets behind the horizon. But why should they build something that keeps the inside dark when it is already turning night?

    She thought of one answer, her father could summon another sun, although not as powerful as the artifact of light much less the actual sun. And they were trying to hold him inside so the light wouldn''t reach the other Avians. But then why would her father drag this on?

    Then it struck her, her father had gone to the artifact of light, and he had not said a word about what happened to it. If it was missing¡ª he would have mentioned it when he was scolding her and told her to act fast.

    This meant that the artifact was safe and secure, and the Vampires might not know of it yet¡ª since it was tough to communicate when there was a fight going on. Or they might already know of it and be up to something else.

    Flora stared at the dome, whatever her father was planning¡ª she''d find a way to help.

    "Ahh, the light blessed, would you be as kind to traverse with me?"

    Flora heard a deep voice behind her, but before she could react, darkness swept over her.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "What?!" Judge shot up from the couch like a startled rabbit. But as quickly as the surprise hit, he sank back down with a dramatic sigh. "Oh... that, the promise. Yeah, I did."

    Eleyn folded her arms, her sharp gaze zeroing in on him like a hawk spotting an injured mouse. "Why are you acting surprised if you already knew about it?"

    Judge floundered, sitting up a little straighter. "No, I wasn''t surprised about the promise! I was just startled by Master here barging in and making it sound like I forgot." He shot a look at Seraphis, who gave a smug little shrug.

    "Nice save," Eleyn replied, too lazy to argue. "So, you''ll help her, right?"

    Judge managed a strained smile, the kind that looked more like a frown. "Of course, Mom. I promised, didn''t I?"

    "Good," Eleyn said with a small nod, her expression softening ever so slightly before returning to its usual steeliness.

    Seraphis, now standing behind Eleyn with her arms crossed, chimed in, "Well, since that''s settled, we can start immediately..."

    "Umm, just a mild detail, we are still en route to Wistmere," Judge said in a mock innocent tone.

    "... after we arrive in Wistmere City." Seraphis completed what she had to say.

    "We''re not even there yet," Judge looked at her, "and you''re already planning my doom?"

    "It''s not doom; it''s an important mission," Seraphis corrected, smirking. "Also, you promised." She pointed at him like she''d just nailed the winning argument in a debate, which she did.

    Eleyn stepped in before Judge could retort. "We''re waiting until after Amber''s entrance ceremony," she clarified. "This isn''t something we can rush into."

    "Entrance ceremony?" Seraphis frowned. "That''s... what, two days away?"

    "A new year and two days, yes," Eleyn replied. "And after that, we''ll head out. I''ll be coming along, too."

    Judge groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Oh great. A full family road trip to chase after Master''s missing daughter. Just what I needed."

    "It''ll be a good experience for you and Liam," Eleyn added. "I''m bringing him along as well."

    "Liam?" Judge raised an eyebrow. "Mom, Liam can barely sit through an hour of sword practice without complaining that it is boring. How''s he going to handle a family adventure?"

    "He does better when it comes to practical," Eleyn said firmly. "This will be a good opportunity for him to see what it means to take responsibility and work as part of a team."

    Judge snorted. "Yeah, because nothing says ''teamwork'' like tracking down a missing person with just a few leads and a trail colder than the north''s frost."

    "Stop being dramatic," Eleyn said, giving him a pointed look.

    Seraphis, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying herself. "I think it''ll be fun. Liam might surprise you. And besides, you''ll have me leading the way. What could go wrong?"

    Judge gave her a flat look. "Master, with all due respect, I don''t think I''ve ever heard a sentence more cursed than that."

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    Seraphis grinned. "Aw, come on. Where''s your sense of adventure?"

    "Buried somewhere under a mountain of common sense," Judge muttered.

    Eleyn clapped her hands lightly, signaling the end of the discussion. "It''s settled, then. After Amber''s ceremony, we''ll start this journey together."

    Judge sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Fine. But just so we''re clear, I''m not carrying Liam''s stuff. That''s non-negotiable."

    "Noted," Eleyn said with a small smile, though there was a glint in her eye that suggested she had other plans.

    Seraphis stretched and headed for the door, pausing to look back at Judge. "Get some rest, kid. You''re gonna need it."

    "We are still a week and two days away mind you."

    As the door closed behind her, Judge slumped further into the couch, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life''s great mysteries.

    "Amber gets to attend an entrance ceremony, Liam gets a ''learning experience,'' and I get dragged into this madness. Life''s just fantastic," he grumbled.

    Eleyn gave him a knowing look. "Have you ever considered the possibility that you may be less experienced in some regards when compared to Liam? Besides, you''ll manage, you always do."

    "Thanks for the overwhelming confidence, Mom," Judge replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "Don''t stay up too late," Eleyn said as she left the room. "We''ll be busy when we get to Wistmere."

    Judge sat in silence for a moment, then let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Great."

 Chapter 178 The heavens endowed

    Solis was relaxed¡ª way too relaxed for what was shaping up to be a fight that should''ve sent even the most hardened warriors scrambling for backup. It was the kind of calm that made you think he either had an unbeatable plan or had given up completely and was waiting for the end.

    As the night rolled in, a giant dome that looked like a massive hat that lost its colors stretched long across the battlefield, and the nocturnal creatures¡ª vampires and their ilk¡ª began to perk up like it was their time to shine. Why? Because it literally was.

    "Alright, lads," Solis muttered under his breath, spinning his spear lazily. "You''ve had your fun. Now it''s my turn."

    The problem? He was lying. It wasn''t his turn. The sun was sinking, taking with it his powers, leaving him with about as much energy as a wind-up toy that''s seen better days. The vampires knew it too. Their smug grins gleamed in the darkness like cheap jewelry at a market stall. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    One of the captains lunged, his scythe slicing through the air with the precision of someone who practiced in front of a mirror. Solis parried with an exaggerated grunt, letting the recoil push him back a step. It was all for show, of course. The spear''s butt connected with the back of the captain''s head in a satisfying thud.

    "Whoops! Butterfingers," Solis quipped, twirling his weapon. The captain crumpled to the ground, and Solis turned his attention to the next.

    But even as he fought, his thoughts strayed. Something was off. He couldn''t feel his daughter anymore. And by "feel," he didn''t mean some sentimental parental connection. It was more literal than that. Celeste, his eldest, was in the dome with him, theoretically safe. Theoretically because, well, it was in the darkness against the vampires.

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    The Avians weren''t making things any easier. Their flight skills were unmatched, their movements more slippery than soap in a bathhouse. Every attack thrown their way missed, as if they''d taken a masterclass in "How to Annoy Ground-bound Opponents."

    And then there was Flora Venthart. His youngest. Her presence hadn''t just faded¡ª it vanished. Completely. Not dead¡ª thankfully, her essence would''ve ebbed away like a smudged ink blot if that were the case. No, this was sudden, deliberate. Kidnapping seemed likely.

    Solis sighed. "Of course it''s Flora. It''s always Flora."

    He wasn''t going to stick around to see what these vampires wanted. He''d played along long enough. If he played longer, he could get some answers, but the situation requires sacrifices.

    The white catalyst embedded in the middle of his spear began to glow. The air around him shifted, shimmering like heatwaves on a summer road. His bronze eyes burned gold, and light seeped from them as though the sun itself was waking up.

    The captains paused. One of them, the third captain with a normal name that he forgot, muttered something about not signing up for this level of trouble before promptly disappearing into the shadows.

    Solis smirked. "Smart move."

    The remaining captains weren''t so lucky. They charged him, weapons drawn, their movements frantic but coordinated. Solis dodged easily, their blades cutting through empty air.

    "You call that teamwork?" he mocked. "My kids argue over pie slices better than this."

    He raised his spear, and the golden hum in the air grew louder. Then he did something unexpected¡ª he began to chant. Most experienced warriors didn''t need to; their minds were strong enough to handle ethercraft without the aid. But this principle was so complex that it required even the experienced regent to chant.

    "The light that opens the clouds,

    From the heavens endowed¡­"

    A captain snarled and lunged, aiming for Solis''s ribs. Solis sidestepped, letting the vampire stumble past. "You''re really committed to this whole dying thing, huh?" he said, smacking the vampire''s backside with the flat of his spear. "Respect."

    "Carve the darkness,

    Let the sun rule the sky¡­"

    The captains'' faces turned grim, their earlier confidence evaporating like morning dew. One of them actually tripped over his own feet in his haste to retreat. But Solis could tell one thing, they were acting, but they were not good enough to be picked up by any theaters.

    Solis thrust his spear upward, golden ether exploding from its blade in a radiant arc.

    "Sunrise!" he bellowed, the word echoing across the battlefield like the punchline to a very expensive joke. This made the captains let all their acting loose and grin like a madman... or madwoman.

    And¡­ nothing happened. The golden light fizzled out with an anticlimactic puff. The captains stared at him, expressions ranging from confusion to poorly concealed confusion.

    Solis lowered his spear, tilting his head like a teacher waiting for a wrong answer to sink in. "Oh, you thought that was it? No, no. That was just the prelude. The overture. The... warm-up act."

    The captains didn''t look convinced, but they also didn''t move. Solis raised a hand, signaling for a dramatic pause.

    "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Where was I?"

    Just as the vampires began to realize he might''ve been bluffing, Solis reached into his coat and pulled out a small artifact¡ª a smooth, obsidian orb etched with intricate patterns. The captains'' eyes widened in recognition.

    "Wait," one of them shouted. "That¡­ that was stolen!"

    "Was it?" Solis asked innocently, rolling the orb in his palm. "Funny thing about artifacts. They always find their way back to their rightful owner."

    With a flick of his wrist, he released the orb into the air. It floated upwards, emitting a low, resonant hum. And the sky outside the dome started to turn bright as a new sun emerged.

    "There we go," Solis said, nodding approvingly. "Takes a second to warm up, you know? Like a really old oven."

    The vampires looked at the dome''s walls in horror as it started to slowly fade and evaporate. The dome''s purpose was to absorb any light and keep the darkness, but it was not strong enough to take on the artifact''s light.

    That was also why they were smiling when Solis started to cast his principle to bring a fake sun, along with their efforts to steal the artifact of light. They wanted to see despair in the regent''s eyes before they killed him.

    "Good effort for the plan," Solis said, standing over a vampire he knocked down. "D minus for execution, though."

 Chapter 179 Todays grave of a man who tried to live for tommorrow

    Isadora Rivet, now a widow as solemn as an overcast sky but only in the image she so carefully curated¡ª because heaven forbid anyone suspect she might have had something to do with her husband''s sudden and tragic demise. Or, to be precise, the demise of the man who was playing husband while secretly ''monitoring'' her, like some wannabe spy stuck in a bad mystery novel.

    She sipped her morning tea with the elegance of a cat that just knocked over a priceless vase, flipping lazily through the newspaper. For once, she wasn''t dressed to slay¡ª both figuratively and literally. Instead, she wore a simple black blouse paired with high-waisted pants. It was a look that screamed, "I''m grieving!" while whispering, "Or am I just tired?"

    The butler, ever the perfect portrait of a man who might have better things to do (but will never say so), entered to inform her of a visitor. Your next read is at My Virtual Library Empire

    "Madam," he said with a bow that could rival a bending reed, "There is a guest asking for the late Master"

    Her eyebrow twitched. Asking for Noel Rivet? Oh, the irony. She almost laughed, but she settled for a quiet smirk hidden behind her teacup. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    If this visitor was here to see her late husband, there were two possibilities. Either they didn''t know he was dead (awkward), or they were here for some shady merchant business. Or both because, let''s be honest, the assassins had all gotten the memo¡ª Noel Rivet had kicked the bucket and clocked out of life permanently.

    Still, Isadora decided against shooing them away. Visitors often brought condolences wrapped in the kind of flattery that could feed her ego for days¡ª or, on rare occasions, actual business opportunities.

    Besides, due to her enhanced senses as a recorder, she could sense quite a few assassins keeping a good watch on her. Probably debating whether to take notes on her behavior or just admire her resilience post-"tragedy."

    She waved her hand at the butler, her face an impressive canvas of exhaustion. No, it wasn''t grief¡ª Lucifer''s relentless training had sapped every ounce of her energy. That demon of discipline had even convinced the assassins she''d simply moved hotels, which honestly deserved a round of applause.

    But she knew why they took her back without further explanations, they think Lucifer had taken Isadora''s sword to kill Noel, a pure mockery towards them¡ª but they could not do anything at the time fearing Isadora''s safety. What fools, fearing the safety of their enemy and former test subject.

    Moments later, her guest arrived. A man stepped through the door with the air of someone who knew he was being watched but couldn''t care less. He wore a cream double-breasted coat that looked freshly ironed, a gray flat hat perched confidently on his head, and a monocle that screamed, "I have better eyesight than you, but I wear this because I can... and to look more sophisticated."

    The butler, still channeling the spirit of a silent movie actor, carefully set down the visitor''s brown leather bag and polished black cane before stepping back like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

    "Pleased to meet you, Madam Isadora," the man said with a bow so dramatic it deserved a standing ovation. "Detective Felix Hawke at your service. May I inquire where your husband might be?"

    Oh, this was rich. Isadora almost snorted but caught herself just in time. She gestured toward the couch, masking her amusement with a weary sigh. "Please, have a seat before we talk."

    Detective Hawke, not one to stand on ceremony, perched himself on the couch with the poise of a man about to crack a particularly juicy case¡ª or maybe just ask for tea.

    "What business do you have with my husband?" she asked, her tone the perfect blend of curiosity and boredom. "I trust he''s not under investigation? I do doubt that man did anything warranting an investigation."

    "Rest assured, Madam," the detective replied with a reassuring smile that could probably sell umbrellas in the desert. "This is merely regarding a minor case. Your husband isn''t a suspect, but he might hold some valuable information."

    "Oh¡­" Isadora trailed off, letting the silence hang for dramatic effect before delivering her line with the precision of a seasoned actress. "I regret to inform you that my husband has¡­ passed."

    The smile evaporated from Hawke''s face faster than a sneeze in a hurricane. He stared at the table as though it was the most interesting piece of art in the universe. After a pause long enough to make her wonder if he''d fallen asleep, he finally raised his head. "My condolences." he paused again, "May I visit his grave?"

    "Of course," Isadora said with the kind of magnanimity one reserves for handing out extra cookies. "It''s not as if I''ve barred anyone from seeing it."

    The butler moved to escort Hawke, but Isadora waved him off. "I''ll accompany him. I have nothing better to do, and a walk sounds¡­ therapeutic."

    The butler didn''t argue¡ª he knew better than to poke that bear. Detective Hawke, on the other hand, simply nodded his thanks, probably realizing she was his best chance of not getting hopelessly lost. And speaking more seemed a worthless use of both time and energy.

    The duo set off, the graveyard just a short stroll from the mansion. Noel''s final resting place was under a sprawling oak tree, its leaves casting a dappled shadow over the solitary grave.

    "Well," Isadora said, folding her arms and surveying the scene with an air of mild amusement. "There he is. Alone. Quiet. As he always wanted to be."

    Hawke, to his credit, didn''t bat an eyelid. He stood there and prayed silently for the soul''s peaceful rest before reading the inscription on the tombstone.

    "His worry was about tomorrow, but he died tonight."

    "You wrote this?" He asked in mild amusement, it was neither respectful nor disrespectful words for a gravestone. But it was interesting.

    "He asked me to write what I thought of him when he passed, said he''d do the same for me if I went first." She scoffed, "I had hoped for the latter obviously."

    Hawke said nothing, he could not find the right words. Both stared at the grave in silence.

    His worry was always about tomorrow, but he died tonight.

 Chapter 180 Grave Concerns (Literally)

    Felix, looking like he was on the brink of another detective epiphany, turned toward Isadora with that classic, ever-so-polite-but-somehow-persistent smile plastered on his face. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Madam Rivet, pardon my intrusion into your personal grief¡ª truly, my condolences¡ª but, uh, would it be entirely inappropriate to ask who killed him? You know, the one you''re mourning. A teensy bit of context might do wonders for my investigation."

    Isadora, who looked like she had been asked one too many questions on a day when she was just not in the mood, inhaled deeply. Her breath was the kind that screamed, I don''t have time for this nonsense, but in a very refined way.

    Finally, she spoke, carefully articulating each word as though talking to a particularly slow toddler, "I can tell you, Detective, but I must admit, I''m curious¡ª how exactly do you know he was killed? And don''t say it was a lucky guess. I hate lucky guesses."

    Felix, so pleased with himself, flashed a grin that he probably thought made him look dashing but instead came off as, ''Look at me, I know things you can''t begin to guess''.

    "Ah, it''s simple," he began, puffing out his chest just slightly for dramatic effect. "When you''ve got access to the kind of information I do¡ª royally employed detective here, you see¡ª it''s not exactly a deep mystery. My knowledge base is, uh, let''s just say... vast. Ridiculously vast. Almost annoyingly so, if you ask me."

    Isadora gave a very neutral nod, though her gaze flickered¡ª just for a moment¡ª toward her husband''s grave. Subtle, yes, but not subtle enough. Felix noticed. (He always notices... well, he is a famous detective, for starts.)

    Meanwhile, in Isadora''s mind, a grim little slideshow of memories started playing, specifically the one where she buried her husband in that very grave with the same sword that had, well... prematurely ended his adventures.

    But Felix wasn''t finished basking in his own cleverness. Oh, no. He gestured vaguely, as though conjuring facts from the air itself.

    "See, I did my homework," he continued after the brief but useful pause, in the tone of someone who thinks they''re the only one in the room with two working brain cells. "Your dearly departed was healthy as a spectral steed, which I know because he''s been doing a lot of traveling lately. And let''s face it¡ª someone who''s constantly on the move doesn''t just keel over from natural causes without some... buildup. Like, no sudden trips to the hospital, no prior illnesses for a long while... I will pause there¡ª"

    He leaned in slightly, as if delivering a punchline to a joke only he found funny. "Also, his travel history? There have been a lot of unsolved mysteries in many of his visits to places, but not all, obviously. Coincidence? I think not. My professional opinion? He was involved in some seriously dangerous business, and, well, the business bit back."

    Isadora, outwardly calm but inwardly groaning, resisted the urge to roll her eyes so hard they''d fall out of her head. Of course, the detective was here for answers about her husband''s... deeds.

    Of course, he''d figured things out with that trademark mix of arrogance and deduction that almost all novel detectives are capable of. But still! She couldn''t help but think, What does this lordly nosy parker actually expect to achieve here? A gold star for effort?

    Without a word, she pivoted on her heel and began walking toward the mansion, her movements steady with an unanswered purpose. "I''ll keep my promise," she said, her tone clipped but polite. "I''ll tell you what you want to know. But not here. Let''s go somewhere more... private. There''s a pergola behind the house."

    She motioned for him to follow, her strides were steady and purposeful, like someone who had absolutely no time for nonsense. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

    Meanwhile, the assassins she knew were lurking nearby weren''t bothering to be subtle¡ª likely because there wasn''t a single bit of cover to hide behind. She wondered, briefly, if Felix had noticed them yet while inside the house. Probably not. He has excellent observational capabilities, but the assassins are trained to hide.

    Felix, trotting along after her, decided to push his luck a little further, but his voice seemed confident as if he knew the answers. "You don''t seem too broken up about your husband''s death, if you don''t mind me saying so," he remarked, his voice almost playful but with an undertone of accusation.

    "In fact, back in the house, I''d almost say those were¡ª what''s the word?¡ª fake tears? But now... now I''m sensing something else entirely. A little something I like to call deep, deep hatred."

    Isadora stopped abruptly, turning to face him. Her smile was sharp, cold, and entirely unnerving¡ª like a viper sizing up its next meal. Felix, for all his bravado, couldn''t help but stiffen slightly as her piercing green eyes locked onto his.

    There was a dangerous, predatory glint in them, the kind of look that made you feel like you were two steps away from being eaten alive. "An astute observation, Detective," she said smoothly. "But as I''ve already told you, you''ll get your answers¡ª when we reach the pergola."

    Felix frowned, clearly not a fan of delayed gratification, and definitely capable of knowing there was some other agenda behind their visit to the pergola. "Why not just tell me here?"

    Isadora''s smile widened, though it didn''t reach her eyes. "Why? Why, you ask?" She sighed, as though explaining the obvious to someone who really should have figured it out already.

    "Let me spell it out for you: there are... pests. Unwanted little bugs buzzing around, keeping tabs on me. They can''t hear us here, but they''ll follow us to the pergola, no doubt about it. And then, my dear detective, they''ll come to silence the both of us after I spill the beans."

    Felix raised an eyebrow, considering her words. He paused for a moment, his expression unreadable, before finally responding with a simple, "I see..."

    It wasn''t much, but it was enough to say, "Oh, this is going to be fun, isn''t it?"

 Chapter 181 I Asked for Answers, I Got Sophisticated Instead

    Drip... drip... drip

    The faint echo of water droplets hitting a puddle tugged Flora out of her daze. Slowly, her consciousness clawed its way back, like a grumpy cat forced out of its nap. Her mind, still foggy, took a moment to piece together her surroundings¡ª or rather, the utter lack of them. Pitch darkness enveloped her like a bad metaphor, and that could mean only one thing: Vampire territory.

    The realization jolted her brain awake faster than someone accidentally gulping a scalding cup of tea. Vampire territory. Of all the places to end up after getting knocked out, it had to be Vampire territory.

    She cursed her luck and whoever had decided that "darkness = spooky, spooky = Vampires." Couldn''t it have been a nice kind of darkness for once? Like the comforting dimness of a cozy bedroom? No? Fine.

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    Her logical side immediately made itself known with a loud and clear suggestion: Do absolutely nothing. Yes, logic had a point. She''d read enough adventure novels and watched enough plays to know that Rule No. 1 of being kidnapped was: Don''t draw attention to yourself. Rule No. 2 was: Don''t monologue your escape plans aloud, and Rule No. 3 was: Try not to antagonize the kidnapper unless sarcasm is your love language.

    So, Flora sat there, staying as quiet as possible, though her brain had decided it was time for a mental caffeine overdose. Her thoughts were racing faster than a caffeinated squirrel trying to outrun its predators. Meanwhile, her heart seemed to have joined an underground rave, pounding away at record-breaking speeds.

    ''Alright, Flora, focus,'' she told herself, which was easier said than done given her current state of mild panic.

    Let''s assess the situation. I''ve been abducted¡ª obviously. My head hurts like I lost a fight with a brick wall. The throbbing pain is keeping time with my heartbeat, which is infuriating, by the way. And it''s pitch black in here. Vampires like the dark. Conclusion? I''m in Vampire territory.

    She paused, her thoughts briefly derailing into melodramatic territory. Great. I''m going to die here. Maybe they''ll drink my blood. Or turn me into one of them. Or worse... make me keep in the dark for days to come, literally.

    Her spiraling thoughts came to a screeching halt as a memory resurfaced: the voice she''d heard just before she blacked out. It was deep, smooth, and annoyingly dramatic, like the voice of someone who took themselves way too seriously. "Ah, the Light Blessed, would you be as kind to traverse with me?"

    Traverse? Traverse?! Who says traverse? She groaned internally. This guy had clearly been spending too much time in libraries, thumbing through the thesaurus. What next? Would he describe her as "a maiden of luminous countenance"?1 sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Before she could contemplate further, a sudden light flooded the room, the light seemed to seep power out of her instead of giving.

    Flora squinted, temporarily blinded, as her eyes adjusted. The room wasn''t exactly the grand Vampire lair she''d imagined. It was... underwhelming. Four plain black walls, a single door, and two chairs. No fancy candelabras, no creepy chandeliers, no coffins. Honestly, she felt a bit cheated.

    The only notable thing in the room was her situation: tied to one of the two chairs with what looked like an impossibly sturdy black chain. Across from her sat a man¡ª presumably her kidnapper. He had black hair, piercing dark eyes, and sharp features that practically screamed, I''m broody, and I want everyone to know it.

    But it wasn''t his appearance that annoyed her. Oh no. It was his voice. His incredibly deep, overly dramatic voice that sounded like it had been stolen from the gods of overacting. If he auditioned for the theater role of a hero called Batman, they''d cast him on the spot, no experience required.

    "Awake, are we?" the man said, his voice seeping with an infuriating combination of conceit and theatrics.

    Flora narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

    "Who?" he repeated, tilting his head like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe. "Who is but the form following the function of what. And what I am is a mysterious abductor... if I do say so myself."1

    She blinked at him. Twice. "¡­Are you serious right now?"

    "Deadly serious," he replied, leaning back in his chair as if he''d just dropped the most profound statement of the century.

    Flora sighed, feeling the patience drain out of her faster than water through a sieve. "Alright, fine. Let me change the question since you did not understand me, What''s your name?"

    "Obviously, you can ask that," he said, completely misinterpreting her tone. "I was not questioning your power of observation. I am merely remarking on the contradiction of asking a mysterious abductor for his identity."

    Her brain stalled for a moment. "...I literally have no idea what you just said."

    "Leon," he said, finally relenting. "Captain of the First Hunting Team. Vampire general. The right fang of the Progenitor. The title list goes on, but I digress¡ª "

    "Please stop," Flora interjected, her voice strained. She tried to wave her hand dismissively, only to be reminded that it was inconveniently tied behind her back. "Just... stop talking. Your voice is giving me a headache."

    Leon frowned, clearly offended. "Why do you ask me to stop when you were the one demanding answers?"

    "Because listening to you is like wading through a swamp made of pretentiousness," she snapped. "Why am I here? And keep it short, I''m begging you."

    Leon''s frown deepened, but he complied. "You''ll know when the time comes."

    Flora groaned. "Of course. Cryptic. My favorite."

    "However," Leon added, "since you''re so curious, I can at least tell you what it means to be the Light Blessed."

    Flora perked up slightly. "Finally, some answers."

    Leon leaned forward, his expression annoyingly serious. "The Light Blessed? Who is that but the embodiment of divinity bestowed upon mortal form? And what they are¡ª ah, now that is the essence of one carrying the sacred power of Veritas himself. Divine power, so to speak."

    Flora stared at him, deadpan. "You know, you could''ve just said, ''You''ve got divine power,'' right?"

    Leon smirked, clearly amused by her exasperation. "Where''s the explanation in that?"

    "This is exhausting," Flora muttered, slumping in her chair.

    Countenance means facial expressions, which here translates to radiant or ethereal face.

    Reference from ''V for Vendetta''

 Chapter 182 The Romantic Tale of Why Mom Banned Adventures at Age Four

    "Alright, Grandpa," Judge said, plopping onto the couch like a sack of potatoes, his legs swinging in the air. "You promised! Spill it!"

    "Patience, my boy," Gereon said, sipping his tea with the kind of exaggerated slowness that screamed I''m going to make you wait just because I can. "A tale like this deserves a proper setup. Let''s see¡­where do we begin?" He stroked his beard dramatically. "Ah, yes¡ª your mother, Eleyn. Back in her younger days, she was...well, how do I put this delicately?"

    "Terrifying?" Judge guessed, smirking.

    Gereon chuckled darkly. "Oh, she was scary alright, but in a different way. You see, back then, Eleyn was just a hot-headed, overconfident young lady who thought she could conquer the world. She didn''t walk; she marched. And she had this idea in her head that nothing¡ª not storms, beasts, or the laws of gravity¡ª could stop her. But then..." He trailed off, deliberately dramatic, leaning closer.

    "Then?" Judge mirrored his grandfather, eyes wide.

    "Then along came your father."

    Judge blinked. "Dad? How does he fit into this?"

    "Ah, Alex Drakonis. The great charmer. The man could smooth-talk a charging bull into giving him a ride. When he and your mother met, they were both out gaining ''experience''¡ª you know, that delightful little Drakonis tradition where we toss you kids into the wild and hope you don''t get eaten."

    "Yeah... right. And Mom went through it huh?"

    "Well, yes¡ª both your mother and your father coincidentally met while adventuring out accompanied by the guards." Gereon leaned back, "Your mother hated your father''s guts from the moment they met. Why? Because he was too good at everything. He had this infuriating way of being nice to everyone, looking flawless, and¡ª get this¡ª never tripping over anything. Ever. Meanwhile, your mother was over here knocking over chairs and losing arguments with her own hairbrush."

    Judge snorted. "That sounds like Mom, but I feel strange not hearing the word ''gold'' when it''s about mom."

    "Oh, but it gets better," Gereon said, grinning. "Enter Seraphis." sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Master Seraphis?" Judge asked, blinking in surprise.

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    "The very same," Gereon confirmed. "Back then, Seraphis was a loner. She barely spoke to anyone, but for some inexplicable reason, she and Alex clicked. Maybe it was because they both had that calm, mysterious thing going on. Anyway, they started spending a lot of time together, and your mother? She. Lost. Her. Mind."

    Judge''s eyes widened. "What did she do?"

    "Oh, Judge," Gereon said, shaking his head with a grin that screamed you''re not ready for this. "She did everything. First, she decided she needed to prove she was better than Seraphis at something¡ª anything. So she started challenging Alex to random competitions. Sparring matches? She demanded them. And you know what your father did?"

    "What?" Judge asked, already giggling.

    "He let her win every single time," Gereon said, smirking. "But not in a way that made her feel good about it. No, no, he''d clap after every match and say stuff like, ''Wow, Eleyn, you''re so strong! I didn''t stand a chance!'' And she hated it. ''Fight me seriously!'' she''d yell, and Alex would just smile and go, ''But you''re already amazing.''"

    Judge was laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. "He didn''t!"

    "Oh, he did," Gereon said, grinning. "And the more he acted like her personal cheerleader, the angrier she got. But that''s just the appetizer. Let''s move on to the main course: the lute incident."

    "The lute incident?" Judge repeated, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

    "Oh, this one''s a classic," Gereon said, leaning in conspiratorially. "So your mother overhears Alex saying he admires people who can play instruments. And instead of, you know, practicing first, she decides to wing it. She grabs a lute and marches up to him like she''s the next big thing in music. And then¡ª oh, Judge¡ª then she starts playing."

    Judge covered his mouth, already giggling. "How bad was it?"

    "Bad?" Gereon said, raising an eyebrow. "Judge, I was there, it sounded like someone strangling a chicken while stepping on a bag of cats. Dogs three villages over started howling. Seraphis looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of secondhand embarrassment. But Alex? Oh, Alex clapped like she''d just performed a masterpiece and said, ''You have such a unique style, Elly.''"

    Judge practically fell off the couch laughing. "What did Mom do?!"

    "She turned so red she looked like a boiled lobster, threw the lute into the nearest bush, and ran off like her dress was on fire," Gereon said, laughing.

    "Poor Mom!" Judge wheezed, tears streaming down his face.

    "Oh, we''re not done yet," Gereon said, holding up a finger. "Let''s talk about her cooking. Now, you''d think after the lute debacle, she''d take a break from trying to impress him. But no. She decides to cook him a meal. And not just any meal¡ª a ''signature dish.''"

    Judge gasped. "Mom cooked?!"

    "She tried to," Gereon said, shaking his head. "She made this...thing. I don''t even know what it was supposed to be. A pie? A stew? An alchemical experiment? All I know is that it was purple, it jiggled, and it smelled like burned sewer. Alex, bless his soul, ate every bite without flinching and said, ''You''re so creative, Elly.''"

    Judge was rolling on the couch, howling with laughter. "Did she give up after that?"

    "Oh, no," Gereon said, smirking. "The grand finale was the eagle incident. Seraphis had this little fluffy bird she adored, right? So your mother decides she''s going to outdo her. And what does she do? She catches a wild eagle. A full-grown, angry eagle. She drags it to Alex like, ''Here, this is for you!''"

    "No!" Judge gasped, clutching his sides.

    "Yes!" Gereon said, laughing. "And the eagle, naturally, loses its mind. It screeches, flaps its wings, and starts attacking everything in sight. Alex had to wrestle it into submission while your mother just stood there, trying to look proud. And when it was all over, Alex patted the eagle on the head, smiled at your mother, and said, ''You''re one of a kind, Elly.''"

    Judge was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "Did Dad actually like her, or was he just messing with her?"

    "Oh, he liked her, all right," Gereon said, his smile softening. "He thought she was hilarious and brave and completely unlike anyone he''d ever met. And eventually, he told her so. But your mother never forgot how ridiculous she''d been, and that''s why she''s so strict about you kids staying home. She doesn''t want any of you turning into lovesick disasters like she was."

    Judge wiped his eyes, still giggling. "Don''t worry, Grandpa. I''ll leave the eagles alone."

    "Good lad," Gereon said, picking up his tea. "Now off to bed. And if you hear your mother humming with a lute in the middle of the night, lock your door."

 Chapter 183 Flora Learns That Curiosity Might Actually Kill the Captive

    "From what I can discern through my rather meticulous observation," Leon began, his voice dripping with the air of someone utterly convinced of their intellectual superiority, "you seem to possess the innate qualities required for a person capable of profound contemplation."

    Flora, who was valiantly trying not to roll her eyes, wore the unmistakable expression of someone caught in an overly long lecture. Her hair was a mess, her face pale from exhaustion, and she looked like a frazzled cat that had just been yanked out of a storm.

    "Yet," Leon continued, gesturing dramatically like he was delivering a soliloquy1 on stage, "you appear to have become ensnared by your own quixotic tendencies, chasing ideals that are¡ªhow shall I put it?¡ªunrealistically lofty."

    Meanwhile, Flora''s mind was elsewhere. She was knee-deep in one of her usual existential spirals: "What even happens when someone dies? Do they float off into the ether? And if life has meaning, then why do cookies have calories?!" But rather than vocalizing these deep thoughts, she cleared her throat and tried to match Leon''s unnecessarily grandiose manner of speech.

    "Could you, perhaps, ameliorate your Byzantine exposition into something more splendidly ephemeral?" she asked with as much composure as she could muster. It was her clumsy attempt at saying, "Can you, like, stop being so fancy and just get to the point?"

    Leon raised a brow, clearly amused. "Ah, young lady, I find myself at a crossroads¡ªunable to decide if you are brilliantly naive or naively brilliant. Perhaps you are both, though I daresay the former outweighs the latter."

    Flora frowned, not appreciating the thinly veiled insult. "I''d rather be naive, thank you very much. At least it means I''m normal," she shot back. "Unlike you, who insists on giving every sentence a coat of gold just to make a simple point."

    Leon sighed, the kind of sigh reserved for a teacher dealing with an unruly student. "Do watch your tongue, girl," he said, his voice suddenly tinged with a sharpness that sent a chill through the air. "I will not repeat myself again. You are a captive, and while I am many things, generous is not one of them."

    The shift in tone worked¡ªFlora immediately clammed up, though she couldn''t help but think, Well, you don''t sound particularly generous, but you sure are generous with your words.

    Leon leaned back, glancing toward the heavy wooden door. "The lord is not yet here," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

    Flora, unable to suppress her curiosity, tentatively asked, "Who... who is the lord? May I know?" She had a vague idea of what he might mean. The vampire race had two ruling families¡ªthe secretive Ashdowns and the far more infamous Ravensworths. But which one of them was this ''lord''?

    Leon turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable. "Do you perceive me as some mere tool of communication," he said slowly, "an instrument through which you may glean answers to every curiosity that plagues your mind? Am I to be your personal archive of information?"

    "You don''t have to answer," Flora replied, choosing her words carefully, "but since you brought me here, I assume you have a purpose. If you share that purpose, I might be less... opposed to cooperating." She shrugged casually, as if she weren''t currently in captivity.

    Leon studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. The lord refers to one of the progenitors¡ªrulers of our kind. As for your presence here, you have been summoned to aid us in lifting the curse of light that has plagued our race for the last two millenium." Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Flora''s heart sank. She sat in stunned silence, staring at the ground. The curse of light. The bane of vampire existence. She knew what it meant, a legend as old as the race itself. And now, somehow, she was the one being roped into solving it? Why me? Why now? They were cursed by Lord Vanitas for two thousand years, why a sudden rush to change it?

    Her racing thoughts were abruptly interrupted by another voice, young yet impossibly commanding. "Well, that was certainly... enlightening."

    Flora froze. She didn''t need to look up to know that whoever had just spoken was powerful¡ªterrifyingly powerful. The sheer presence of the newcomer felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

    Leon''s demeanor shifted immediately. He straightened, his usual arrogance replaced with cautious respect. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice carefully measured.

    The newcomer didn''t answer right away. Instead, Flora felt herself being lifted off the ground¡ªnot roughly, but with almost gentle accuracy, as if invisible ether hands were moving her. A moment later, she was placed down again.

    "Open your eyes," the voice commanded, firm yet oddly soothing.

    Flora hesitated but obeyed. What she saw made her gasp. Gone was the dim, oppressive room. She now found herself in a vast meadow, surrounded by rolling green hills blanketed in delicate white flowers. The sky was a radiant blue, and the sunlight bathed everything in a warm, golden glow.

    The scent of wildflowers and fresh grass filled the air, mingling with the faintest hint of a nearby stream. It was unlike anything Flora had ever experienced, having spent most of her life confined to a crowded city. This place felt like... like something out of a dream.

    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?" the voice said, now closer, softer.

    Flora turned her head to see a young figure standing beside her, the man had a plain white mask with a smiley face on his face, but it felt as if it was a part of his skin, she couldn''t;t tell where the mask ended. He also wore a black three-piece suit with brown leather gloves.

    "Is this... real?" she finally whispered. "Or am I dead? Because honestly, this looks like the kind of place people dream of finding in the afterlife."

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    The figure chuckled lightly. "No... Miss¡ªuhh... Flora. You''re very much alive. But this is merely a glimpse of what awaits you¡ªif you can find the strength to face what''s ahead."

    Flora groaned inwardly. Great. More cryptic destiny talk. She sighed and flopped onto the soft grass, muttering under her breath, "Can I just... enjoy the view for five minutes before the motivational speeches start?"

    monologue

 Chapter 184 Join the Recorders, They Said. Itll Be Fun, They Said.

    "Haha, you obviously can," the man chuckled, his voice carrying a slightly condescending warmth. "You are not here as a captive. If you were, you''d be in chains or... maybe in a much less scenic spot. Captors don''t usually offer flower fields, you know."

    Flora turned to the flower field, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant colors as though trying to memorize every petal. The soft hum of bees and the occasional rustle of the wind made her feel like she was in a dream¡ª or maybe a very well-funded art exhibit. She sighed contentedly. "If this is captivity, I need to send my enemies thank-you cards."

    "I know I''m late to ask," Flora continued, squinting at a patch of particularly radiant flowers, "but... who are you? And why are you so ominous? That mask isn''t exactly screaming ''friendly neighborhood helper.''"

    The man adjusted the mask, the sun glinting off its polished surface. "Oh, apologies. My name is Gabriel. Gabriel, virtue of chastity, if you want the full effect. And, well, the mask stays on. It''s a rule. Dramatic mystique is part of the job description."

    Flora plucked a white flower, giving it a sniff before twirling it between her fingers. "Gabriel, huh? Sounds strangely holy. Did you swoop down from the heavens to pluck me from the jaws of doom?"

    Gabriel shrugged. "Something like that. Though, I do less swooping these days¡ª bad for the knees. As for getting you out¡­ let''s just say I''m blessed by my lord." With a practiced gesture, he extended his hand, and a stunning ice flower bloomed in his palm, glittering like it had stolen a piece of the moonlight. "Would you like to take revenge on the vampires?"

    Flora stared at the flower, a mix of awe and suspicion crossing her face. It looked beautiful¡ª too beautiful. Like it might explode if she so much as blinked wrong. She hesitated. "Why would I?" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Gabriel froze. For a moment, his confident aura faltered, and he blinked behind the mask as though he''d been slapped with a fish. But his tone didn''t change. "Uh¡­ because they attacked your home? Killed your people? You know, the usual revenge triggers?"

    Flora carefully took the ice flower, holding it as though it might start reciting poetry at any moment. "Yes, they did. But does that make them evil?"

    Gabriel tilted his head, genuinely baffled. "I mean¡­ yeah? Pretty straightforward definition of ''evil'' there."

    Flora turned the flower over in her hands, her tone thoughtful. "Is it, though? What even is evil? If killing makes someone evil, then what about those who kill to protect their families? Are they evil too?"

    Gabriel scratched the back of his head. "Well, uh¡­ I mean, the reason for killing probably matters. You know, like¡­ context?"

    Flora nodded sagely, as though she''d been waiting for this moment. "Exactly. So, if context matters, then what about us? Haven''t we killed vampires just because we think our ideals are better? How is that different?"

    Gabriel paused, visibly trying to juggle her words in his mind like they were oddly shaped puzzle pieces. "...You''re very good at making this complicated."

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    Flora smirked, the corners of her lips quirking mischievously. "I prefer the term ''thought-provoking.'' What do you think is truly evil, Gabriel?"

    He sighed, sitting down cross-legged on the grass like a man who realized he''d just walked into a debate he wasn''t equipped for. "All right, I''ll bite. What is truly evil, Flora?"

    Flora leaned back, gazing at the sky like a philosopher about to drop a life-altering truth bomb. "Nobody does anything thinking they''re pure evil. Everyone justifies their actions. And that justification, that reason they create to make their actions okay¡ª that''s the root of evil. Evil isn''t in the act; it''s in the excuse."

    Gabriel clapped slowly, his tone dripping with sarcastic admiration. "Wow. That''s deep. I feel like I should be writing this down."

    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, by your definition, evil is¡­ bad excuses? Like, someone saying, ''I burned down the bakery because I don''t like croissants''¡ª that''s evil?"

    Flora chuckled. "Exactly. Burning the bakery because it''s a front for vampire smugglers? Maybe less evil. Depends on how you justify it."

    Gabriel tilted his head, staring at her like she''d just handed him a recipe for philosophical chaos. "You know, you''ve really got a knack for making me question my entire worldview. How do you even sleep at night with all this existentialism bouncing around in your head?"

    Flora smiled wistfully. "I don''t. That''s why I spend so much time staring at flowers. And a little context for you, it is actually never night back at the city¡ª so we usually sleep according to our schedule. And that makes life so uncomplicated, trust me."

    "Uncomplicated, huh?" Gabriel said, picking a daisy and twirling it dramatically. "So, what if I told you our cause¡ª joining the Recorders¡ª is also simple? We don''t justify violence. We record history, Flora. We keep it honest. No excuses, no bias. Just the truth. Isn''t that exactly the opposite of the evil you just described?"

    Flora raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. "...I¡­ suppose that does sound¡­ less evil."

    Gabriel leaned in, sensing victory. "And by recording the truth, you could stop others from justifying their actions with lies. You could hold people accountable. Isn''t that what someone who hates excuses would want?"

    Flora opened her mouth, then closed it, her brain visibly spinning its wheels. "I¡­ Well¡­ That''s¡­"

    "Exactly," Gabriel said smugly, tossing the daisy over his shoulder. "Welcome to the Recorders, Flora. Your first assignment: debating a vampire about the moral complexity of stealing chandeliers. You''ll fit right in."

    Flora groaned, realizing she''d been completely outmaneuvered. "You''re insufferable, Gabriel."

    "And yet," he said, standing and offering her a hand, "here you are, joining my insufferable cause. You''re welcome."

    "Can I create ice flowers if I do?" A smile crept up her lips.

    "Of course you can," He created another flower, this one more thin and delicate. "As a matter of fact, the power to create ice is not mine, I borrowed it from a friend with my... our lord''s grace. You too can share and receive powers."

    "I guess I shall give it a try then, I do like to travel the world, and power means not being weak in the night." She took the flowers, but they quickly broke. Leaving her with crumbles of ice.

    "Then," Gabriel produced a mask, "This is for you."

    "... Thanks? What is this?" Flora took the mask, the signature plain white mask of the recorders with a smiley face.

    "You will be known as Uriel, the virtue of temperance." He said as soon as she took the mask, "Of course, that is only while you are wearing that mask, you still could go on about in your daily life."

    "That is strangely unconvincing," Flora laughed dryly, "But I guess it is too late to turn back." Flora put on the mask.

    Gabriel did not name her randomly, the observer, Judge, was watching. He told Gabriel to do so telepathically since the use of scriptwriter was not possible in the scenario.

    Gabriel won''t name her on his own accord, and scriptwriter would only work if the script somehow aligns with the person''c behaviour.

 Chapter 185 When nostaligia strikes like a bad dream

    Min Jae found himself seated on a weathered wooden bench beneath the dim glow of a street lamp. His breath curled into the cold night air, dissipating in soft puffs. The silence of the night was calm yet unnerving.

    Beside him, Seo Jun leaned back, his gaze fixed on the vast, empty expanse above in the skies and beyond the stars.1

    "You know, Min," he murmured, his voice was low, just enough for Min to hear him, "I never cared about money the way others did when I was younger. I didn''t dream of wealth or status. I just wanted enough¡ª enough to eat, enough so my mom wouldn''t have to work herself into the ground. That was all."

    Min remained silent, allowing Jun the room to unravel his thoughts. It was rare for him to speak of his past, and when he did, it was as though he were offering fragments of himself, seeking to be understood without the burden of judgment.

    "My mom was a single parent," Jun continued, his tone growing softer, almost reminiscent.

    "She worked tirelessly, more than anyone I''ve ever known. We scraped by, always on the edge of having too little. She sacrificed so much, more than I comprehended at the time¡ª skipping meals so I could eat, pretending she wasn''t hungry when I could hear her stomach growling. We never had the luxury of dining out like other families, but I never complained. Still, there was one place I always longed to return to. A small restaurant my dad took us to before he¡­ before he was gone."

    A breath escaped him, slow and weary, as if attempting to toughen the emotion creeping into his voice. "I used to walk past that place every day, staring through the window, inhaling the scents that spilled into the street. I''d imagine what it would be like to sit inside again, just once. But I never asked. My mom never mentioned it either, but I knew¡ª she remembered."

    Min looked to the distance. "And then?" he asked with the words minimum and his voice as low as possible. The purpose was to let Jun know he was listening.

    A nostalgic smile crept across Jun''s lips. "Then I got my first paycheck. It wasn''t much¡ª just from a part-time job¡ª but it felt like I had the world in my hands. I wanted to do something for her, to give back in some small way. So, instead of telling her, I slipped the envelope under her pillow, thinking she''d be surprised."

    Min puffed a quiet laugh. "Let me guess¡ª she found it immediately?"

    Jun''s grin widened. "Not only that. The first thing she did was call me and say, '' Jun, I found some money under the bed! Do you know whose it is?''" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I told her it wasn''t mine, and she just laughed. Then she said, ''Come home quickly.'' I didn''t know what she was planning, but when I got back, she was waiting at the door, dressed up. She took me straight to that restaurant."

    Min could picture it¡ª mother and son, stepping into a place imbued with memories, their joy outshining the worth of any currency.

    "She spent that money on you," Min murmured.

    "Yeah." Jun''s expression softened. "She found money, and the first thing she thought of was me. That day¡­ that was the happiest I''d ever been. For the first time, I felt like I had given her something meaningful. Now I always wonder why that small paycheck made me cry from happiness but all these giant gains always feel like a burden."

    Min smiled, "Looks like you already know why."

    "Yeah... " His smile wavered, replaced by a gloom of regret. "After seeing her smile like that in ages¡­ I lost sight of that feeling. I convinced myself that I needed more. That if I worked hard enough, and earned enough, I could give her everything she deserved. So I kept running after money, chasing it without stopping to think. I told myself I was doing it for her. And before I even realized it¡­ she was gone¡ª gone, I never stopped once to see whether she wanted me to stop, even though I always knew she did."

    The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Min saw the way Jun''s hands curled into fists, the weight of his words pressing down on him like a force he could not escape.

    "Why did I run so hard? What was I even chasing?" Jun exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "In the end, I learned something. Money is indeed¡ª the root of all evil. It makes you chase it, always wanting more, until you lose everything."

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    Min scoffed, the sound breaking through the gravity of the moment. "That''s where you''re wrong, Seo. You see, if money was truly the root of evil, why did it make you happy? Why did it make your mother smile?"

    Jun frowned slightly, caught off guard by the question.

    "Money was never the issue," Min continued, leaning forward. "It was just the justification. People do terrible things and blame it on money, power, on ambition. But the real problem? It''s in the choices we make, the excuses we cling to. Justifications¡ª those are the true root of all evil."

    A slow grin tugged at his lips. "So stop blaming money and admit it¡ª you were just a greedy idiot."

    For a moment, Jun stared at him. Then, laughter erupted from his chest¡ª genuine, unrestrained, breaking through the gloom like a willful music. It was a sound Min hadn''t heard in a long time, and he let it settle between them, warm against the cold night.

    The dream began to shift, the mist creeping back in, swallowing the scene. Jun''s laughter echoed, distant now, a fading imprint on Min''s mind.

    Then, suddenly¡ª

    Judge awoke.

    His breath was steady, but the remnants of the dream lingered, heavy on his chest. Min''s words, his previous life''s words, replayed in his mind.

    Justifications¡ª the true root of all evil. Flora Venthart shared something similar to Gabriel when he was recruiting her¡ª maybe that was what triggered this dream.

    Min Jae- Previous Judge, Seo Jun- His friend. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 186 Step one of anger management â€” Dont

    Lucifer now really wanted to smoke, but alas he was on a mission. He was watching Isadora with his mask on and recording. The assassins could not sense him, but he knew where each one was ¡ª but there could always be more.

    He could always surprise the assassins, but if there were other assassins only to observe from the distance, his master''s plans would need a redrafting, and he was not here to fail his master.

    The current plan was to wait and oversee Isadora''s fight, getting anyone who acts suspicious at a distance, if all goes well ¡ª Lucifer will once again approach Victor in order to completely eradicate the assassin gathering with the help of the legal authorities through Detective Hawke. But if it doesn''t, then getting through the organization would be even more of a pain since they would now be alerted against Lucifer''s organization as well as the authorities.

    Isadora led Felix inside the garden pergola, the place was surrounded by a beautifully crafted garden and a low iron fence near the cobblestone paths of the garden.

    Lucifer kept an eye out for the assassins'' movements, and Felix, now aware of the fact that she was actually targeting the assassins ¡ª decided to keep his guard up, he became less talkative and more alert to surroundings like a seasoned detective in mission. (Without "Oh that is a clue" talks of course)

    "Detective," She began as both sat down. Experience exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire

    Felix leaned in, still alert "Yes?"

    "Promise me that you will lend me a helping hand after I tell you what I have to do," She stared at his eyes intensely. "I promise that it is legal and in fact, would help you out more than it would me as mine is just about revenge."

    It did not take long for the detective to piece together what she was hinting at, it must be about destroying the assassin organization that her husband was working in. "Very well, if it is something I can handle given the situations ¡ª then yes."

    "Thank you," She looked at the skies and at him again, "Then as you''ve deducted, my husband was an assassin..."

    As soon as she uttered those words, the leaves in the garden rustled as five assassins emerged from within, she could still sense quite a few in hiding.

    "We trusted you, Isadora," One of the assassins spoke, "How could you betray your husband?"

    "Oh? Is this how you treat people you trust perhaps," Isadora did not get up, "By keeping watch?"

    "Uh oh," The detective got up, "I don''t even have a weapon, this could get dangerous."

    "Aren''t detectives supposed to be good at preparing?" Isadora slowly got up. "Or did you not expect fewer assassins after seeing my confidence."

    Felix smiled, "You put me at ease, Madam Rivet." He calmed down after seeing Isadora''s demeanor.

    "As you should," Isadora smiled and brought her hand toward her face, a plain white mask with a smiley face appeared in her hand. "I will take care of this."

    Lucifer sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The moment Isadora reached for the mask, he knew¡ªhe just knew¡ªthat things were about to get unnecessarily dramatic. Not that he minded bloodshed, but he had seen this before. The moment that mask was on, it was as if a switch had been flipped. And, oh, how it flipped.

    As soon as the plain white mask with its unsettlingly cheerful smile settled over her face, Isadora went from ''elegant and composed widow'' to ''feral whirlwind of death.'' Her eyes settled in the color of purple, but with a blue hint.

    The assassins barely had time to process the transformation before she was upon them. One unfortunate soul found himself introduced to a particularly pointy piece of wrought iron fencing, courtesy of Isadora''s newfound inhuman strength ripping apart the hand railing.

    Another tried to back away, only for her to grab him by the throat and yeet him through the pergola like an unwanted casserole at a family dinner. He did not survive the landing.

    Luckily Detective Felix had a good experience at dodging, or he would not have survived either. He looked at Isadora, astonished by her transformation from a calm and composed widow to a beast that wrought destruction.

    Isadora extended her hand and a sword of ice materialized slowly, first water, then the ice thickened over before turning entirely white, and the cold mist flowed out from it.

    One particularly ambitious assassin, perhaps thinking himself clever, attempted to leap from a tree and take her by surprise. Isadora caught him midair. Midair. The man let out a single, startled "urk" before she drove the sword through his throat. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    There were still about fifteen left after the six dead, that was all of them as they all came out after seeing her kill the first one. They all were stationed to take care of her in case she went berserk.

    Lucifer, watching from his concealed position, exhaled slowly. "And there it is," he muttered. He sensed (his wind sensed) two people quickly trying to escape as they saw the scene from two different ends of the Rivet estate.

    He still marveled at the power of the mask gifted by his lord. It could share anything between the subordinates, even a part of the lord''s strength.

    It was one of the reasons he was so eager to recruit more members, to bring others under the influence of the mask''s shared vitality, stamina, and power. He had concluded that he could bring enough members, strong members, until all the seats were filled.

    He had taught Isadora how to use it, ensuring that she wouldn''t just put it on blindly but would instead become something far greater ¡ª a controlled force of destruction, rather than a reckless berserker. And judging by the carnage unfolding before him, his teachings had paid off.

    "Who are you really?" Felix asked the question that the assassins could not since they were busy trying to stay alive, but there was not much progress as she bashed another one''s head against the cobblestone, bursting his head open and spraying the brain matter all over before they froze.

    Isadora straightened herself and looked at Felix, "I am a recorder, Mon cher."1

    My dea

 Chapter 187 Lucifers take on modern art

    Lucifer did his quiet duty of ensuring none of the assassins had a chance to escape or warn their allies. He borrowed Gabriel''s principle and created two portals toward the escapees and squashed their legs like an overly ripe tomato.

    Lucifer first materialized beside one and casually stomped on his head like he was extinguishing a cigarette. The second unfortunate soul barely got a breath out before Lucifer''s blade turned him into something resembling an abstract painting, with red being the major color ¡ª man, that looked extremely similar to "modern art".1

    "Red really is the dominant color this season." He muttered to himself. "Maybe I missed my calling as an abstract artist."

    He returned to where Isadora was fighting just as she froze another man''s thin straight sword and completely crumbled the wooden handle. "Time to get a well-earned cigarette," he lit one and leaned against a tree, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.

    He''d done his part ¡ª no escapees, no witnesses, just a couple of abstract art pieces splattered across the grass. Now it was Isadora''s turn. He exhaled a plume of smoke and muttered, "Let''s see what you''ve got, Barachiel."

    The assassins, seeing as they couldn''t do any more surprises, had surrounded her. They did not strike first, instead, they observed her movements. Isadora was even more composed ¡ª her eyes darted to every assassin in front of her, and she tried to sense any movements from behind her.

    Surprisingly, she did not get attacked from the back, the assassins weren''t idiots. They were professionals, cold and calculating, and they moved like they''d been doing this their whole lives. Which, honestly, they probably had.

    A chain whip cracked through the air first, its metallic hiss cutting through the silence of inactivity. Isadora dodged, but the whip grazed her arm, leaving a thin line of blood that dripped onto the cobblestones.

    Before she could recover, a stick with an ether hammer at the end was on her, the guy with the hammer weapon swinging in a brutal arc aimed at her ribs. She raised her sword, deflecting the blow, but the impact sent her skidding backward, her boots scraping against the ground, a new layer of ice forming in her trail ¡ª she still could not control the ethercraft, and she had to do this before the mask''s power run out.

    The assassins didn''t let up. A dagger-wielder darted in from her blind spot, his blade aimed at her kidney. Isadora twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the movement left her open. The spear user took advantage, thrusting his weapon at her chest. She parried with her sword, the clash of ice against steel ringing through the garden, but the force of the attack knocked her off balance.

    Isadora gritted her teeth. These weren''t amateurs. They were good¡ªtoo good. She couldn''t afford to hold back. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The chain whip came at her again, this time aiming for her legs. Isadora leapt into the air, the whip snapping harmlessly beneath her. As she landed, she swung her sword in a wide arc, sending a wave of icy shards toward the assassins.

    The whip user dodged, but the hammer-wielder wasn''t fast enough. The shards tore through his light armor, embedding themselves in his chest. He staggered, blood dripping from his wounds, but he didn''t fall. Instead, he roared and charged at her again, dragging his hammer across the ground

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    "How the hell are you an assassin?" She couldn''t help but ask. His fighting style was too berserk to be a quiet and stealthy one.

    Isadora created another ice crystal in her hand, "Lucifer!" She screamed as she drove the ice toward the hammer guy even though there was a good distance between them.

    Lucifer smiled as he let out another puff, a small portal appeared as Isadora ran the icicle through it. The other end of the portal was just before the throat of the hammer guy. She drove her ice spike into the man''s throat. He fell to his knees, spitting blood and his eyes wide with shock, before collapsing to the ground.

    "Thank you," She said to Lucifer, focusing on the fourteen left. "And I am angry now."

    "Like you weren''t before," Lucifer murmured and smiled at his own joke.

    Isadora let go of her sword, it crumbled just as it hit the ground. The purple eyes truly shined blue now. She could lend anyone''s power if the mask had enough power, divine power so to speak, left.

    But there was a problem, she could not yet use two principles at once. And that was also why the ice sword lost its durability just as it hit the ground, she switched to one of the observer''s principles ¡ª extreme strength.

    The whip lashed again, but it was another guy this time. Isadora caught it with her gloved hand, the glove ripped open and blood started to pour out, but it did not affect her in the slightest.

    She gripped the whip tighter and pulled the man close, he let it go as soon as he understood she was pulling him, but it was too late. Isadora dashed straight toward him with her fists to his face ¡ª smashing his skull open.

    Before the others could regroup, she kicked one sideways in the gut ¡ª splitting his torso apart. She immediately jumped toward two men with fierce eyes, both dodged, but she caught one by his head and threw him against the other guy, taking his sword in the process.

    Their heads crashed against each other, blood spilled out, but they did not die. Isadora spun and threw the sword toward their head, it went through one guy''s forehead and came out through the other guy''s mouth.

    One assassin appeared behind her and swung the sword up, but she darted toward the sword she had just thrown and yanked it off their corpse, spinning the blade in a wide arc and deflecting another strike.

    The man was thrown off balance and was left wide open, she used the opportunity to pierce his chest, but he rolled to the side, barely dodging the strike. But Isadora paused midway and sliced the guy through his armor and chest.

    "Ten," She said calmly as swung the sword, splattering the blood. Her mask stared at her enemies intensely.

    The arts with "Deep meaning" with no actual artistic skills, yeah that''s the one.

 Chapter 188 Isadoras calmness

    The annoying whip came again, snapping through the air like a serpent striking its prey. Isadora twisted her body at the last moment, narrowly dodging its bite, and reached out to catch the end.

    But just as her fingers closed around it, the woman on the other end released her grip, letting it go without resistance. A cowardly yet strategic move ¡ª she backed down just enough to keep herself safe, leaving her comrades to exploit that brief moment of distraction.

    But Isadora was not about to let her get away with it.

    With a sharp flick of her wrist, she swung the loose whip like a lasso. The handle twisted around the torso of a nearby assassin, jerking him off balance. No time to hesitate. She yanked him forward with brutal force, his body stumbling helplessly toward her.

    She held her sword toward his chest, slicing through it and cleaving over his shoulder, exiting in a gruesome arc of crimson. His corpse barely had time to collapse before she used it as a stepping stone, pushing off from his falling body and launching herself into the air with a burst of momentum.

    The sickening crack of breaking bones echoed through the battlefield as his lifeless form slammed into the ground, blood splattered like a blob of paint was smashed with a solid object. Isadora soared over him, her eyes locked onto her true target ¡ª the annoying woman with the whip.

    Midair, two more assassins rushed to intercept her. Too slow. Isadora twisted her body, slashing in a precise diagonal motion, her blade carving through them both before her feet even touched the ground. One head spun through the air, the other''s chest split open as he crumpled lifelessly. Her landing was barely a pause ¡ª her stride continued toward her prey without faltering.

    Lucifer watched, his lips curling up in mild amusement. Seven attacks had been aimed at her ¡ª four of them fatal. And he had protected her from each one. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Just as Isadora reached the whip-wielding woman, the assassin pulled a hidden knife, lunging forward with reckless abandon. It was a suicide attack ¡ª she was fully prepared to sacrifice her own life to ensure Isadora''s demise. The blade gleamed with poison, a death sentence in the form of cold steel.

    A noble effort. But Lucifer''s hardened air had already blocked it before it could reach its mark.

    Isadora''s sword did not hesitate. The woman''s head was severed cleanly, rolling away as her body slumped to the ground. Blood gushed like a fountain, staining the cobblestone beneath them.

    The remaining assassins hesitated, but fear did not drive them away. They were trained killers, seasoned in bloodshed. They knew their fate was sealed the moment they decided to take lives for a living, but they would not go down without a fight.

    Six of them charged at once.

    One never even made it to her. Isadora''s sword sailed through the air, piercing straight through his skull before he could react. He collapsed instantly, his body twitching as the others barely flinched. Their focus was ironclad.

    The moment of distraction was still a moment wasted.

    Isadora took it.

    In a blur, she caught two of them. Her fist slammed into one''s gut, driving the breath from his lungs with enough force to lift him off his feet. Her other hand clenched into a brutal fist, crashing down on the second man''s skull. A sickening crunch echoed as it split open like a melon.

    Three left. But they had already regained focus.

    One lunged for her back, another swung from her side, while the last attempted to block her attack head-on.

    It was a solid strategy ¡ª if she were weaker.

    The block was useless against her raw strength. Her blade sliced effortlessly through the defender''s chest, splitting him in two. The one behind her received a vicious kick to the gut, sending him flying backward, skidding against the ground like a ragdoll. The last, the one from the side, barely had time to react before she caught his throat in an iron grip.

    She crushed it like dry parchment. His body spasmed before going limp.

    The last one groaned weakly, rolling his head, barely alive. Isadora didn''t waste time. A swift slash ended him with a clean cut across the neck.

    And just like that, the fight was over.

    Detective Felix had been watching the entire thing, unable to do anything but exhale in sheer disbelief.

    Slowly, cautiously, he approached her.

    "Who¡­ who are you actually?" His voice trembled. Not the best question to ask someone who had just brutally massacred twenty-one skilled assassins as if they were mere practice dummies. But curiosity was a reckless thing.

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    "She is called Barachiel."

    Lucifer''s voice cut through the moment. He emerged from the shadows of the nearby tree, his presence almost as unsettling as the slaughter they had just witnessed.

    Felix''s breath hitched. He had been so focused on Isadora ¡ª on Barachiel ¡ª that he hadn''t even noticed Lucifer''s presence the entire time. Not even when she had shouted his name.

    "And she is a new member of our group." Lucifer''s tone was casual, yet the weight behind it was suffocating. "Although I presume you would not be speaking of Isadora being a part of our group."

    "O-of course I-I would¡­ n-not, haha." Felix stuttered through an awkward laugh, his instincts screaming at him to play it safe. "I-I would n-not even speak of your group."

    Observer, Lucifer used telepathy to speak to Judge, What must I do with this man as he knows the identity of Barachiel.

    Lucifer''s stare was unreadable, he took a while to respond. "Our organization does not fear the authorities." His words were slow, deliberate. "But you do not want to know what happens when one of our identities is known to the world."

    Felix swallowed hard. He understood exactly what that meant.

    "I-I will keep that in m-mind."

    He forced himself to remain calm, knowing full well that the wrong move, the wrong word, could be his last. But if there was a way to ensure his own survival, to cover for Isadora without betraying them¡­

    "If it is alright with you, May I know what your organization is called?" His voice was steadier now, but still cautious. "... If I may use that name to cover Isadora."

    Lucifer smiled.

    "We are¡­ the Recorders."

 Chapter 1 - 1: A Toast to Friendship, With a Side of Poison

    Min Jae sat in his sleek office, a framed family photo resting in his lap, staring at him like it had a running joke he wasn''t in on. The red-haired man and blue-haired woman in the picture smiled lovingly, clutching the hands of a little red-haired boy¡ªMin, when he still thought the world was a place where bedtime stories ended happily and cereal didn''t have expiration dates.

    Now, as he looked at the cheerful faces, he couldn''t help but chuckle. "You really had no idea what was coming, huh?" His smile crept wider, taking on that slightly unhinged curve he''d perfected over the years. The kind of grin that made legal departments nervous.

    He tilted his head, his red hair swaying to the left as he gently caressed the frame, his thumb tracing the faces of his parents. "Mom... Dad..." he whispered, eyes drifting to the panoramic city view spread out below him like an ant farm¡ªan expensive, morally dubious ant farm.

    "I finally made it big," he said, his grin growing. "Me and Jun... all our hard work... it paid off." He let out a soft, satisfied sigh. "And the people who poisoned you? Let''s just say they''re enjoying a vacation." He paused for effect, leaning closer to the photo as if sharing an inside joke.

    "A permanent vacation."

    He snorted at his own line. What? Even revenge needed flair. His expression softened for a second, a flicker of something resembling nostalgia crossing his face before the mask of confidence slipped back into place. He stood and approached the glass wall, staring down at the glittering city below. It was all his now.

    The wealth, the power, the ability to fire people for no reason other than their shoes offended him.

    Yet there was that small voice in the back of his head, the one that whispered things like, Would your parents be proud of this? and Are you really gonna wear those shoes with that suit? He ignored it, naturally. That voice hadn''t helped him climb to the top, nor had it kept him from turning into someone who occasionally Googled "how to cry without messing up your hair."

    "I wish you could see me now," he murmured, his voice low. "But let''s face it, if you were still here, I''d probably be... I dunno, paying taxes and not running a semi-legal empire built on revenge." He sighed dramatically, pressing his forehead to the cool glass. The weight of success mixed with loss clung to him like an email from an ex titled We need to talk.

    His eyes prickled with unshed tears, but Min Jae wasn''t about to cry. He hadn''t cried since his parents died, and he certainly wasn''t going to start now, when his suit cost more than his therapist''s hourly rate. Tears were for people with regrets¡ªand he didn''t have any. Well, except maybe one or two wardrobe choices.

    On the small tea table beside him, a bottle of wine waited patiently, like an overeager party guest. Seo Jun, his only friend and fellow revenge enthusiast, had given him the bottle earlier. A celebration gift. The final paperwork was done; they''d secured their status as two of the wealthiest men in the country.

    Revenge was complete, and what better way to toast it than with an expensive Cabernet Sauvignon?

    Min Jae hesitated. Wine. His parents had died because of wine, poisoned by people they trusted. He''d avoided the stuff ever since, partly out of respect for their memory and partly because he wasn''t keen on drinking something that screamed, Hey, remember that time your parents got murdered?

    But this bottle... it was from Jun. The one person he trusted. Surely, the universe wouldn''t be that cruel. Again. Right?

    Right?

    "Jun wouldn''t poison me," Min muttered to himself. "I mean, sure, we''ve done some questionable things together, but we''re not that dramatic." He paused, reconsidering. "Okay, we are, but still."

    He grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass, watching the dark red liquid swirl like something ominous and probably metaphorical. The wine smelled rich¡ªblack cherries, earth, tobacco... and, was that a hint of cedar? Fancy. He took a sniff, because that''s what people do with wine apparently. He wasn''t much of a connoisseur; his idea of fine dining involved ordering extra fries.

    After inhaling deeply, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. It hit him with a burst of flavor¡ªblackberries, plums, and something spicy, like black pepper. For a second, he thought, Wow, maybe revenge wasn''t such a bad life choice after all. But then the warmth that should have been comforting twisted. His smile faded.

    Wait. Why did it feel like his insides had just received an email titled You''re Screwed? The warmth spread, sharp and fast, like an accidental text to your boss complaining about your boss. His heartbeat picked up, fast and heavy. The glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor in slow motion, staining the pristine white carpet with dramatic splatters of wine.

    "Of course," Min groaned as he clutched his chest, dropping to his knees. "This would happen to me. My life''s just one bad plot twist after another."

    The realization hit him like a frying pan in a slapstick comedy: He''d been poisoned. Again. Because apparently, life really loved re-runs. "No way," he muttered, trying to move but finding his muscles locking up, betrayal tightening around him like that time he wore a belt three sizes too small. "It couldn''t be Jun... right?"

    Seo Jun. His best friend. The only person who hadn''t backstabbed him yet. Unless, of course, this was Jun backstabbing him. In which case, it was impressive, really. Min groaned again, trying to process the fact that his only friend might have just turned him into a dramatic villain clich¨¦.

    Great, now I''m the guy who gets betrayed by his partner.

    Just then, Seo Jun burst into the room, his face a mixture of panic and confusion, like someone who''d just walked in on an unexpected live-action soap opera. He was saying something¡ªprobably an apology or something poetic¡ªbut Min couldn''t hear him. His world was fading to black, like the end credits of a film no one wanted to see.

    "Seo Jun... you son of a..." Min choked out, his lips curling into what could only be described as a sarcastic smirk. "If you wanted my half, you could''ve just asked. Good luck running this empire without me. Hope you choke on it."

    His mind, once filled with spreadsheets and revenge plots, was now crammed with the fear of the unknown¡ªlike opening an email with the subject line We Need to Talk. He hated that subject line. It never meant anything good.

    His pain started to ebb away as he closed his eyes, the chilling numbness overtaking the fire in his veins. There was nothing now¡ªno sound, no feeling, no taste. Just darkness. And, in the final moments before he blacked out, memories began to flicker through his mind like the world''s most awkward slideshow.

    His mother''s laughter, his father''s smile, and that time his mother''s nanny accidentally poisoned her¡ªfunny, it had been a real hit at family gatherings. His dad''s death replayed itself, courtesy of a ''childhood friend'' who apparently took friendship goals way too seriously. And then, of course, there was his own death. Because why not?

    "Well," he thought, "this is dramatic enough for a TikTok. Maybe I should''ve just gone into knitting instead of world domination."

    And then¡ªnothing.

    [A very dramatic death later]

    Min Jae got up and sat upright, he stared blankly at the void in front of him, as if he was waiting for the next plot twist. He looked around to see that he was lying on a vast, dark, rough, and uneven plain, he touched the ground, and he could feel sand, but surprisingly, none got on his hands, defying both physics and every beach vacation he''d ever taken.

    There was a big blue moon on one side, and a bright white light was emerging from behind it.

    Suddenly! a thick grey fog began appearing in a small cluster on the vast plain between him and the moon. Because of course, there has to be fog in an afterlife scene. He couldn''t see through the fog but knew something, or someone was inside it.

    Soon the grey fog dissipated, revealing a grand throne, it was made of stone and etched with patterns of gold and a shiny golden wing on each side, probably taken from Pinterest, a blue and red scarf was on the backrest, adding color to an otherwise 49-shades-of-gray1 throne, he got up and walked towards the throne.

    A blue light began to shine on top of the throne, slowly descending towards the seat, as if it were about to deliver a very important PowerPoint presentation. It flashed as soon as it hit the throne, revealing a woman in a white tunic and blue hair that looked suspiciously well-conditioned for someone who lived in a foggy afterlife.

    Min just had to take a glance at the figure as he immediately recognized the face of the being, who now sat on the throne, he stopped in his tracks. "Mom?" He looked at her, confused.

    "No, I am not your mother" The being gave a subtle smile and tilted her head, as if to reassure him and put him at ease, "I only took her form as she is the most influential person to you in your memories." She had his mother''s voice.

    "Who are you?" Min was pissed at the deity for taking his mother''s form to talk to him.

    She paused and continued, she put her hand on her chest as she introduced herself "I am the deity of stories... And I offer you an accord"

    "So?" Min masked his uneasiness with an act of bravado, "What is your offer?" He wanted to reject her out of principle, but something told him that wasn''t an option in this particular customer service call.

    "You have to work as someone who will record stories from the new world you are sent to."

    She lifted her right hand and a small cluster of grey fog began to appear, of course, the fog, is it on clearance in the afterlife? The fog revealed a plain white mask with a smiley face on it. And she continued to speak by holding the mask forward, "So the title of the said job is... Cameraman."

    "Cameraman? Like..... do I shoot movies or something" Min was now really confused, his tough acting was now faltering like a badly-fitted outfit, his initial distrust now turning into curiosity.

    "As I said, record stories that are happening or create them on your own, I don''t care how or what you do as long as I get the stories. Of course, I will provide you with some necessary skills needed."

    "What''s in it for me, doesn''t that make up a one-sided offer? Even if you provide me with skills, after all, it is only for your sake." He raised an eye at her, while he was indeed curious, he could not put his trust in another being.

    "No, it is not one-sided," She tried to defend herself, still with a smile, she continued, "because in the world you will be sent to... You will be born as a son of your previous life''s parents." She gave a pleased smile, she knew he was never rejecting her after that.

    He looked at the mask she was holding forward, the offer was too tempting to decline. "Ok tell me about the job" He admitted his defeat and proceeded to take the mask from her. "And also tell me more of the world I will be going."

    "Oh, you will have plenty of time to learn of your world" She laughed and allowed him to take the white mask she was holding. "This mask will be the gate between you being the new you and you being the cameraman you," She looked at him seriously, but her smile never faded. "Keep in mind that you are also a part of the story while you are not wearing that mask." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Now... without further ado" She waved her hand and nine scrolls made of silk appeared in front of him in three rows, with gold embroidered patterns on each edge and letters written with threads.

    "Take one from each row, those are your choices for the skills I will provide you with." She laid on her throne as she said that, knowing full well that this would take a long time, this was not her first time doing it.

 Chapter 2 - 2: Ether, Psyche, and Other Things You Canâ€™t Google

    Min Jae scanned the mystical scrolls in front of him, squinting like a grandpa trying to read the fine print on a prescription bottle. These scrolls would bestow upon him the powers he needed for his new gig as "The Cameraman," a title that sounded like he should be working on a low-budget documentary rather than manipulating reality and filming it like a terrorist magician on crack.

    With a lot of careful consideration and a sigh that echoed like a deflating balloon, he picked the first scroll and tossed aside the others from the top row with the grace of someone discarding takeout menus.

    His first rejected option, "Creator''s Supremacy," was supposed to make him more powerful than the most powerful person in any situation. Sounded great until Min realized it came with more strings attached than a marionette at a puppet show. For one, he had no clue what the power system in his new world was like. Was it powered by magic? Biceps? The number of cats you owned?

    Plus, in a group fight with opponents of equal strength, he''d just be a little stronger than the strongest person, which was about as useful as a sword in a gunfight. Nope, next!

    The second option was ''Edit'', which let him mess with the minds of up to five people at a time, making them hallucinate or forget things. But it had a nasty little catch: people with strong mental strength, or ''psyche'', would just laugh it off like a bad joke. Min thought, "Great, so I can mess with the village idiot but not the evil mastermind. Pass!"

    "Hey, Story God!" Min called out to the deity who was lying on the throne,

    "What? Have you finally decided, or are you just here to waste more of my popcorn?" the deity replied, looking utterly bored as she shoved another handful of imaginary popcorn into her mouth.

    "Also, I''m not a God," she corrected, wiping invisible butter from her lips. "God is like, way above me. I''m more like the underpaid, no... unpaid, overworked higher manager of the divine bureaucracy." She said this with a level of self-awareness that almost made Min feel sorry for her. Key word, ''Almost''.

    Min had about a thousand questions after that little revelation, but he decided to shelve them for now. There was only so much existential crisis one could handle before lunch, or breakfast since he died in midnight. "I just wanted to know more about ''Psyche,'' because, you know, that could be important."

    The deity rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn''t roll right out of her head. "Psyche is your mental strength, like your brain''s CPU. The better it is, the better you can handle magic. But if it''s overloaded, you''ll be stuck like a computer trying to run an 8K video on dial-up, but way more dangerous because... you know...

    it''s in your brain." She pointed a finger at her brain like she was explaining it to a 5 year old.

    "And by the way," she continued, rolling her eyes again like a teenager explaining why Wi-Fi is important, "Mana from your world, is more fancied as Ether here, and is also needed in magic. Which in your new world, we call it EtherCraft because we''re more fancier like that." She sighed dramatically, as if even explaining this was beneath her job description.

    Min nodded sagely, pretending to understand everything, which he didn''t. But at least now he could make a somewhat informed decision. "Alright, I''ll take Studio, Scriptwriter, and Enhanced Cognition," he declared, picking his scrolls with all the confidence of someone choosing toppings for a pizza.

    The skills he didn''t choose in the middle row were ''Spotlight'' and ''Plot Armor''. Spotlight sounded like a great way to be the life of any party, by making sure no one else was, or make anyone else the star. But it was limited to ''where the scenario allows'', which was vague enough to make Min nervous.

    Plot Armor, on the other hand, was like giving someone else an extra life in a video game, but again, with limitations. Min wasn''t about to hand out invincibility like party favors.

    So, he chose ''Scriptwriter'' because, let''s face it, controlling people''s actions like a puppeteer sounded way more fun than being a glorified spotlight operator.

    And for the bottom row? The choice was obvious. Enhanced Cognition was the big-brainer (pun totally intended). After all, having a fast brain that he could turn on and off at will sounded like the ultimate cheat code. Plus, who wouldn''t want to speed up their cognitive abilities without worrying about frying their brain like an overworked laptop? And he could even comprehend and store more info?

    Sweet.

    With his final choices made, Min turned to the deity, who looked like she had finally run out of popcorn. "Yeah, I choose these as my final skills," he announced, puffing up his chest like he had just solved world hunger.

    The deity, still lying on the throne, waved her hand, and the rejected scrolls vanished like they''d been sent to the magical equivalent of a recycling bin. "You sure took your sweet time," she said mockingly, though her smile was starting to get on Min''s nerves. He kept his mouth shut, because, let''s be real, arguing with a divine being, even a self-proclaimed underling, never ends well.

    "Double check to make sure you picked the right thing," she said, her voice suddenly serious, as if they were now discussing nuclear launch codes. "Once you choose, there''s no going back."

    Min gave the scrolls a once-over, triple-checking like a guy trying to avoid the dreaded "Are you sure you want to delete this file?" mistake. His first choice, ''Studio'', was all about creating his own personal alternate dimension¡ªa Workspace where he could do whatever he wanted, even alter his own body. The only catch? He couldn''t actually attack anyone who he summoned into his Studio. Bummer.

    Of course, he could still attack them by his own strength, but studio can at most, confine them.

    His second choice, ''Scriptwriter,'' allowed him to create contracts that people had to follow like actors in his written script. The downside? They had to agree to it first, which could be a bit of a snag. But he figured he could work his charm when needed.

    Finally, he chose ''Enhanced Cognition'', because having the mental prowess of a supercomputer with the ability to turn it on and off sounded like a dream come true. The other two options, ''Ether Talent'' and ''Psyche Talent,'' sounded cool, but they weren''t quite as versatile as a brain that could practically calculate the meaning of life before breakfast.

    "Yeah, I''m sticking with these," Min said, standing in a tall pose like he''d just won the lottery.

    "Good for you," the deity said with the enthusiasm of someone who had just been handed a tax audit, yes without any enthusiasm.

    "Now, let''s get down to the details you may never come across. First, your title as ''The Cameraman'' comes with a quirk - ''Cameraman Never Dies'', It just means that you won''t die while you are in your cameraman form. But don''t get cocky, because you''re not immortal. You can still get hurt, like, a lot.

    Also, there are two other Cameramens to be sent, and you''re ''The'' Cameraman because, well, you were first. Just don''t worry about them betraying you, because they can''t, it''s company policy."

    Min frowned, thinking about how he''d rather not have coworkers, especially in a job that involved interdimensional reality TV. But before he could complain, the deity dropped another bombshell.

    "Oh, and one more thing," she added, her tone suddenly serious. "Remember when I said God is a being above me? Well, there are pretty powerful beings who call themselves gods in your world, they are still below me, just so you are not confused. And you can become one of the self-proclaimed gods in your new world if you play your cards right."

    "Wait, what?" Min''s jaw nearly hit the floor, but before he could process that info dump, the ground beneath him cracked open like a poorly baked cake. He plummeted into darkness with all the grace of a cat being shoved into a bath.

    [A Ridiculously Dramatic Birth Later]1 sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Min''s first experience in his new life was a blinding light that hurt his eyes and made him want to crawl back into wherever he''d just come from. His ears picked up the sound of happy chatter and crying, which was annoying because he wasn''t the one doing it. And then, bam! Something soft and fluffy hit his mouth and a fluid came through. The taste was... familiar?

    "Milk? Seriously?" Min thought, barely able to open his eyes. "What am I, a baby? Oh, wait..."

    The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, this time, there were at least three volumes of ''How to understand women'': he was, indeed, a baby again. His first meal in this new world was warm, creamy, and humiliating.

    But at least it was better than the poison that had killed him the last time. So, he gulped it down like an adult bodybuilder crazy for protein, preparing for whatever ridiculousness awaited him in this bizarre new life.

 Chapter 3 - 3: World domination 101: Learn the language

    The reincarnated kid opened his eyes to see his new world, but all he got was a dark room, the bright lights were all gone, replaced by a dim, blue moonlight coming in through the window, like a creepy moonlight that plans to hit your eyes right when you decide to sleep.

    It was dim due to the curtains, but he could still see his surroundings, he tried to get up, but then realized he was just a newborn.

    The baby looked around, the room had a Victorian era aesthetic. The first thing he noticed was the enormous brass chandelier above him, it held gray stones which were inside a curved brass holding.

    He looked to the side there was a portrait of a beautiful, blue-haired lady, he instantly recognized the person in the portrait. It was his mother, his heart started to beat faster and tears started to swell as he realized that he had gotten back together with his family. "Yup, this is my life now. Crying because I miss my mom. Crying because I found my mom. Crying because...

    I don''t know, I''m a baby!"

    He looked at the other portraits present, there was one of a man with red hair, it was his father, ''both of them look just like before'', he thought. But the next frame caught him off guard, it was a picture of his family, his mother was sitting on a chair, while his father was standing next to her. His problem was with the two children standing in between them, a girl and a boy.

    The girls had red hair while the boy had blue, life never stopped giving him plot twists, they were clearly his siblings, "Since, when did I agree to share parents?". He was never going to share his precious parents with anyone, ''Alright'' He decided ''I should only trust my parents and no one else, and certainly not Seo Jun 2.0''.

    His drift of thoughts was interrupted when a gust of wind blew through the open window, letting more light in. His eyes lit in disbelief as he saw the chandelier again, it was not brass, but gold. How rich was his family? He wondered if he could crawl on a pile of cash soon.

    He decided to sleep, but sleep had other plans, it went out for a little trip that would then turn into a father''s quest to find the perfect milk. And just when he thought of just closing his eyes until he could sleep, he noticed his mom - his mom! - was sleeping next to him, talk about co-op with your best bud, that''s when you know you are gonna enjoy it.

    Soon, morning came, and though he did not get enough sleep, his head was very clear. His throat was as dry as the Sahara and needed some water, he did what any clear-headed person would do, he cried. Of course, what did you expect of a baby? Text?

    After filling his empty belly, he had enough strength to plan for world domination, well... as soon as he figured out how to roll over. He decided to try out his newfound skills. He could only try one while he was a baby, it was enhanced cognition, because going to another dimension or writing up an acting contract are not exactly expected of newborn children.

    He decided to activate it and did not notice any change, he was surprised, since he should be seeing everything in slow motion, he thought deeply as to what went wrong, did it not fully activate? did he need a ritual or something? Did the deity just scam him? ''I knew it, I shouldn''t have trusted anybody''. He would given a 1-star on Yelp if he had a mobile... and internet.

    He soon found out what went wrong, nothing was moving in front of his eyes for him to see it in slow motion. "Of course, you idiot, how''s anything supposed to go slow-mo if everyone''s just standing around?!" Clearly, his base cognitive skills needed a tune-up.

    He looked over to see his mother knitting something, he could see faint ether particles around whatever she was making. He activated his enhanced cognition again, and this time, it activated without flaw. His mother''s knitting turned slow, like it was a TV ad for extreme knitting, even her getting up from the seat was slow, even her growing slowly in size. Wait... Growing in size?

    Oh wait she was just coming near him, what a relief, the last thing he wanted was for his mother to be a giant. she grabbed him in his arms and spoke in a foreign tongue. It was not an exaggeration to say that he understood nothing, but he was still happy to see his mother, so he gave her the biggest smile he could muster.

    It was quite the task, but it was all worth it to see his mother''s happy smile, one that he hadn''t seen for so long. His mother spoke something in a foreign language again, but not to him but to someone outside the big, wooden ornate door with patterns made of gold, that he failed to notice the previous night, soon some maids came in and one took him in her arms.

    The maids wore red clothes with a light golden bodice, they wore a white apron without a speck of dirt or any other spots. Their hair was tied up to make a braided bun hairstyle. And he found something shocking on their head, behind the headwear, they had two symmetrical horns, though they were small. "Halloween?" He thought "Don''t think so" the setting was too formal.

    "Hey what are you doing," He was getting angry at the maid for taking him away from his mother and could not think much of the horns, "Give me back to mother this instance." That was what he wanted to say, but all he heard was a child cry. The child being him, obviously.

    He heard one of the maids say something to his mother and everyone in the room chuckled. He looked around to see that he was being taken to a small tub of water, the maid took off all his baby clothes and dipped him in the water to bathe him, he felt as if he was being baptized for a crime he didn''t commit, though he was an unknown criminal in his previous life.

    If only there was someone to record his glorious life. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After a thorough cleaning, man the maids didn''t leave a single spot, he was put into his new baby clothes. He felt like a baby that was being taken care of, wait! He was a baby that was being taken care of.

    His mother held him up in her arms and hugged him, she was still saying something but he could not understand, that when his dumb brain began functioning and thought of the enhanced cognition that the deity gifted him.

    He turned on the enhanced cognition and waited for them to speak, but he understood nothing, "I really hope this language barrier isn''t permanent." And they all went silent, "Nice timing, world."

    His mother took him in her arms and decided to breastfeed, but as a grown man, he had to reject it, but that is, if was a grown man of course. He was a baby now, so he took it without much thought.

    He slipped into sleep as if his previous sleepless night was catching up, he deactivated his enhanced cognition, and soon heard a light chatter as he fell into sleep, wondering if they were silent till now on purpose.

    [A dramatic sleep later]1

    He woke up to an annoying scene, a red haired wench was rubbing her cheeks against his. The wench being his one and only sister that he decided not to trust, and also his untrustworthy, blue haired brother was standing beside her.

    Like a professional baby self-defense instructor, he let out a cry, and immediately turned on his enhanced cognition to understand at least something from a conversation that he was not so sure of occurring.

    His mother said something to the girl, as he expected, he understood nothing, and he was not proud of it either. But he heard just one thing clearly, ''Amber''. He instantly understood that it was her name.

    His mother called another name, ''Liam''. The blue haired boy came near him and started to caress his hair... Hair? How come a newborn has hair, his thoughts instantly went to the maids with horns.

    He could draw many conclusions, and two of them stood out. One was that, in the world he was born in, children in this world are normally born with hair and the maids are a separate species serving under his family.

    His second conclusion was that they were not human, but another species where children are born with hair. This one sounded less plausible since his mother and sibling did not have horns, while he was not very thrilled with the idea of being another species, he couldn''t hide his curiosity.

    That thought ended in seconds with his supercomputer brain, and with nothing else to do... he started to cry. His mother came to him while talking to Liam, who took his caressing hand away and walked towards the door after nodding.

    His mother took him in her arms again and started to speak in a loving voice, though again, he understood nothing. He activated his cognition skill to grasp at least something of whatever she was saying, and he heard one thing - Judge, his name.

 Chapter 4 - 4: Seriously! Whats up with the horns?

    Judge opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep in his mother''s arms again, he''d been sleeping a lot lately. As if sleep was afraid that he would cheat on it. The little children who were sharing his parents were nowhere to be found.

    Today was the day Judge would begin his grand plan. Step one? Establish dominance. And what better way to start than with the very basics: eating, sleeping, and screaming at anyone who dared interrupt either activity. Though there was no one he could scream at.

    But first, he needed to learn more about his surroundings. His family was obviously rich, like ridiculously rich. The kind of rich that made him wonder if the chandelier was an heirloom or just casually picked up during a shopping spree.

    The Victorian-style room, the ornate furniture, and those darn golden accents on everything were like screaming, "Welcome to your new life of luxury, little overlord!"

    His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the morning disturbance¡ªa group of maids, all wearing the same red and gold attire as yesterday. Their horns were slightly less alarming now, but Judge was still cautious. He wasn''t quite ready to trust them yet. After all, trust is earned, not given, and he had seen far too many betrayals in his past life to be naive about this one.

    One of the maids approached him with what looked like an absurdly plush towel. She was smiling in that way adults do when they''re about to do something you absolutely hate but they think is adorable. Judge''s instincts were on high alert¡ªhe knew what was coming.

    "Bath time," the maid cooed, reaching for him. He was starting to understand a few commonly used words, at least the words commonly used around him.

    He let out a cry that could rival a baby... yeah it was not much to write home about. It was a strategic move though, a well-placed strike in his ongoing battle to assert dominance. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. Instead of scaring the maid away, she giggled and said something in that indecipherable language that was quickly becoming his mortal enemy.

    Judge quickly turned on his enhanced cognition, hoping to decipher something, anything. But the only thing he managed to figure out was that "bath" that he had already gotten from his previous attempts

    Without being able to put up much resistance, he allowed the maids to baptize him, in the golden ornate baby bathtub. He still couldn''t get over the gold ornate home decor that was everywhere. It was like they went to see an internal decor expert and he suggested they just put up gold wherever they want, cause they can.

    After the bath, which, despite his earlier protests, was actually quite relaxing¡ªJudge was dressed in a fresh set of baby clothes that were now his own set of royal robes. He took a mental note: Even if I''m stuck as a baby, at least I''m a stylish one. Thanks, money!

    Once he was back in his crib, Judge began his next mission: deciphering the family dynamics. It was clear that his new mother was deeply attached to him, which was a huge relief. He would need her on his side if he was going to navigate this world. His father, on the other hand, had yet to make an appearance. And then there were the siblings¡ªAmber and Liam, as he had overheard from his mother.

    He wasn''t sure what to make of them just yet. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Amber, with her red hair and overly affectionate nature, seemed like the type who could become either a strong ally or a formidable opponent. Judge wasn''t taking any chances. He needed to keep a close eye on her, maybe write up a contract to keep her in check.

    As for Liam, the blue-haired brother, he seemed more reserved, almost cautious. Judge could respect that. He acted like a two year old, which judge supposed he was, and judge was not going to trust someone just because they were only born two years prior.

    As the day wore on, Judge tried to wanted to try activating his Scriptwriter ability, but to no avail. It seemed that creating contracts was a bit out of reach for a baby who couldn''t even hold a pen. He made a mental note to revisit that once his motor skills caught up with his scheming.

    For now, Judge focused on honing his enhanced cognition. Every sound, every movement, every word spoken in that foreign tongue was analyzed, categorized, and stored away in his rapidly developing brain. It wouldn''t be long before he cracked the code of this language and could start making real progress.

    Soon evening approached and he woke up from his sleep again, seems sleep never intended to leave him alone, but it went on a trip across the whole of Asia when he actually needed it. He swore to make a court for people negatively affected by sleep if it was possible.

    He looked over to his left and saw his mother, who was reading a book, she was glancing at him every now and then. Once she noticed that he was awake, she put the book away and came towards him, once she was close, she called a maid and said something to her.

    The maid came close to his crib and took Judge in her arms and began to undress him, caught by surprise, Judge could do nothing but cry. Why was he, as a grown man inside, crying? He felt crying as a natural response to anything he didn''t like, is this how babies always feel?

    His anger quickly turned into humiliation as he understood, why he was getting undressed. He had pooped in his expensive baby clothes. He bit down his humiliation as he allowed the maid to wash his bum and change his clothes. He could almost hear the deity who''d sent him here laughing.

    He was put onto his mother''s bed as good as new. As a matter of fact, he was indeed new, just a few days old. even an idiot would know that he was new. He had once been a powerful man, feared and respected. Now, here he was, reduced to a whimpering infant who couldn''t even control his own bowels.

    He decided that he needed to do something in order to learn the language as quickly as possible. After all, how could he conquer the world without even being able to order a steampunk cheese pizza?

    Just then his mother ordered the maid standing beside her something and the maid hurried out. "Good job, Mom! You knew I wanted to be alone with you." Judge cheered for his mother, though he couldn''t understand what she said, he still cheered for her.

    Let''s say what he did was a mistake of misunderstanding, the maid came back. This time, with something square and golden in her arms. Of course, why wouldn''t it be golden? He never once thought in his life that he was going to get tired of seeing gold.

    Judge watched in growing disbelief as his mother took the golden object and opened it. "A golden book? Seriously? What kind of family spends this much on a children''s book? How rich are we?" Judge mused. All of his amazement from seeing all of the gold was gone and was replaced with disbelief.

    He had thought it might be some kind of heirloom, a treasure passed down through generations. But no, it was just a storybook. And a very shiny one at that.

    Even the pages were made of gold, He tried to imagine the kind of person who would think, "Hey, let''s make a children''s book out of gold!" and failed miserably. He had clearly underestimated his family''s ''Passion'' for extravagance.

    His mother started to read the book, but all he heard was a lullaby that was making his head dizzy, like he just had a dozen of sleeping pills¡ª however, this was not unhealthy. Though he did not understand the language, he understood that his mother was using ether to put him to sleep, but he didn''t hate the idea as the lullaby was just too sweet, like an opera where the money was worth your time.

    Just then, the golden ornate door burst open, making his tiny heart almost jump out to see the intruder, but his ribs ensured its secure placement. A red-haired man stood at the room''s entrance, his mother happily said something to the intruder.

    But this was anything but happy, the guy was covered in blood and had a sword on his waist. And he even had two horns on his head. It was different from the maids, this one came in red.

    As the figure got closer, judge''s initial suspicions turned to dust as he understood the figure¡ªit was his father. But why was he covered in blood? Also, what''s up with the sword?

    The answer would have to wait, but one thing was certain: life in this family was going to be anything but boring.

 Chapter 5 - 5: Seriously! Whats up with the Blood?

    Judge stared wide-eyed as the red-haired, blood-soaked figure stepped closer. The man''s eyes, filled with something between pride and exhaustion, locked onto Judge. Without a doubt, this was his father. But why was he drenched in blood?

    And more importantly, why was he approaching with arms wide open like a ghost face trying to scare the children, or like a responsible adult who was just trying to give him candy.

    He remembered that one time when he was promised candies by some guys with a van on Thanksgiving Eve and his parents had to thank the police for their ''hard work''. He brushed off the embarrassing memory, he had grown since then.

    His mind was back to the present, his father leaned in near him, ready to pick him up from the bed. His tiny baby brain went into full panic mode. Nope, nope, nope! He had gone through a lot today, an embarrassing meal, a not-embarrassing bath, another embarrassing bath, a never ending parade of golden objects, and an unknown language he swore he would learn... one day.

    Getting a bloodied hug from a psychopathic killer was not on his list of¡ª''things to do before conquering the world''. Though he loved his father dearly, he hated the idea of another bath. So he had to make sure nothing, including blood and gore, dirties his body or clothes.

    Just as his father was about to scoop him like an ice cream vendor scooping ice-creams to make cones at a busy hour, his mother intervened. Coming in like a hawk trying to protect its nest, she touched her husband''s chest, stopping him mid-hug.

    Judge couldn''t understand what she said, but from the stern look on her face, it was clear she wasn''t thrilled about her husband''s current state. She was scolding him like a mother who found her kid stealing candies that she hid. She pointed at his bloodied frock coat, cravat and waistcoat, his horns, and finally at the sword hanging on his waist, everything had blood on it.

    Judge could only assume she was saying something like, "Are you seriously trying to hug our son while looking like you just walked out of a Victorian-era horror movie?" Even though he was appointed as a cameraman, this was too early for movies, and he wasn''t even planning on a horror movie.

    His father, disappointed at not being able to pick up his newborn, gave her a resigned nod. He looked at his own bloodied appearance and then retracted his horn, which gave Judge creeps as he wondered what race they were. He accepted the fact that horns were not used as a decoration on Halloween here.

    His father looked at little Judge and gave him a happy and reassuring smile, but the bloody face was not helping. With nothing else to do... he cried, yeah... what were you expecting a baby to do, dance?

    Seeing his cry, his mother urged his father to get out, and he heard something that left his superbrain wondering, "Okay honey". He looked around in surprise, that was the first time his father spoke after entering the room.

    He was sure that he had not turned on enhanced cognition, and his father spoke in a language that he did not learn, it was the foreign language that his mother and the maids spoke, but he still understood what he was saying.

    He needed to dig deeper into it, and for the time being, he needed to hear his father speak while his enhanced cognition was active. He knew that was the cheat code to learning the language that haunted him.

    His father turned and left, giving Judge a satisfied look, it was a crisis averted. His mother scooped him up and gave him a warm hug, a warmth that he wanted to last forever¡ªnot like the warmth he got from his first (and last) taste of alcohol. That left a lasting memory, but not in the best way possible.

    As she held him, Judge''s thoughts began to wander. He was still trying to make sense of everything. His father''s blood-soaked entrance had raised more questions than answers. What kind of world had he been born into? Why was his father covered in blood? And what kind of family dynamics were at play here?

    He was sure the questions wouldn''t answer themselves just because he thinks a lot, as far as he knew, this story was not that much cliche-ed. So like the most intelligent baby, he put that thought off and focused on world domination. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge''s thoughts were interrupted by the soft humming of his mother, she sang the lullaby that she had paused before due to his father''s entrance. His eyes were getting heavy again, like his exhaustion from the whole day was catching up with him.

    Lullaby as an ethercraft was a cheat code, he was sure that many babies were put to sleep unjustly like this by their own mother. He drifted into sleep as he heard the sweetest lullaby he had ever heard, besides the one he heard a minute ago (Let''s not go there).

    soon morning came and he was rudely woken up by someone, all he saw was a red hair. He immediately cried because that was the most natural thing to do, the blood filled moments of previous days came to his mind.

    He soon stopped crying, because that was also the natural thing to do. And he looked at his now-clean father, the horns were no were to be found and he had changed into a maroon tuxedo tailcoat with golden patterns embroidered on both the sides. Again! What''s with the gold?

    He immediately activated his enhanced cognition and everything went silent, good timing... thank you world. An old man clad in a dark goth frock coat entered the room, he looked like he was old enough to be his grandpa.

    "Yes Dad" His father answered Judge''s Grandfather''s questions in the foreign language. "While I have eliminated those who were practicing purgatory rituals, I suspect there are still some left, we have to find their main hideout and destroy them until nothing is left".

    His grandfather said something, probably "Good work, son." He tried to memorize what his father was saying, his cognitive abilities spoke for themselves, and he memorized the words his father spoke in the foreign tongue.

    His grandfather came close to him and took him up in his arms, "Be careful Dad" His father spoke. His grandpa smiled at him as he held him in his arms, he was thankful for no blood, but he couldn''t trust anyone but his parents, and that includes grandparents.

    Seeing Judge''s ''not happy'' look, his grandpa put him down carefully on the bed and left, saying something to his father, who replied with an "Alright Dad." He brushed his tuxedo tailcoat and went after his father.

    His mother took him in her arms and followed behind them, it was his first time out of his room. His tiny heart beat in excitement as his mother crossed the ornate door and to the hallway outside.

 Chapter 6 - 6: Journey to a DIY throne room

    Judge thought was in a corridor inspired by the Overlook Hotel from the movie Shining, he half expected the twin girls to ask him to come and play. Was he doing a horror movie after all? Great, just what he needed¡ªghost children, to add to his list of problems. But then he noticed the huge windows on one side, which didn''t fit the horror vibe at all.

    "Well, if a ghost shows up, I''ll just jump out the window. Easy escape plan! Right after I stop being a baby and can actually walk, of course."

    His mother slowly but carefully moved toward the windows, which were, no surprise here, ornate with gold. Seriously, did these people put gold on everything? Judge couldn''t help but notice how everyone else seemed completely unfazed by the gold overdose, while he was mentally screaming, "Who measures their wealth in gold trim?!"

    The garden in front of them spanned at least a kilometer¡ªprobably more, because who in their right mind measures gardens in kilometers anyway? And beyond were steampunky buildings, which were a sight to behold. "Am I in a sci-fi movie or a steampunk fantasy? I''m betting on steampunk, judging by the fashion choices around here."

    He could see mountains in the distance with many big houses situated on them, they were made so well that he thought they were competing in an extreme sport for architects. The mountains were definitely not what you call huge, but they still pierced the clouds like giant middle fingers to the sky. Wait a minute¡ªhow high up was their city located?

    He could see the clouds closer than inside a skyscraper, and skyscrapers were made to reach the skies.

    Before he could answer, his mother said something while pointing at the garden. "Well, that''s a good choice" His father answered "What do you think Dad?"

    He turned to Judge''s grandfather. "... Eleyn''s Choice..." He could grasp two words from his grandpa. He understood that the word Eleyn was probably his mother''s name. He was joyed at finally getting to know his mother''s name. "Finally, a clue!

    Now if only I could figure out how to ask for a diaper change in this language."

    His grandpa whipped out a small and transparent sphere, it had a black core inside with two golden rings around the core. Of course, it had gold, this family just couldn''t help themselves. The two rings were also inside the transparent sphere. He held the sphere firmly in his hands as if it was a magic billiards ball, then he whispered something so quietly it was almost inaudible. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    They were all enshrouded in a deep blue light and the next thing he knew, he was inside a crib, with his mother, father, and his grandfather sitting around a white marble table. They were all having a fun chat and having tea and cakes... without him! They were all inside a gazebo in the middle of the garden.

    Judge looked on in disbelief. "Really? They''re having a tea party without me? And here I thought I was the guest of honor! Well, when you can''t join ''em, sleep ''em. That''s the saying, right?"

    With nothing left to do... he slept... what were you expecting from him, cry? Nah he needed to prove that he can be a good child. He slept until noon and was taken in for a bath by the maids, what a life.

    But when night fell, and he was tucked back into his crib instead of snuggling up with his mom, Judge realized that maybe, just maybe, not crying had been a strategic error. He decided to protest in the most babyish way possible, crying like a baby banshee. But his mother, clearly immune to his newfound tantrum skills, simply patted his head and left him to deal with it. "Great.

    I''m out of moves, and it''s not even bedtime."

    He eventually gave up and decided to sleep. Just as his eyelids began to droop, his tiny brain had a big idea. "Wait a minute! I''m alone... I can activate the Studio!" He wasn''t exactly sure how he knew how to activate it, but who cares? Time for him to do some world-bending magic!

    without wasting any time, he activated Studio, don''t ask how does he knew how to activate Studio, he just knew, just like his enhanced cognition (A/N: I''m getting tired of the long name). And the child who was not even a week old was whisked to another dimension.

    Judge opened his eyes that he didn''t know was closed. He couldn''t look around in a newborn''s body, he remembered that he could alter his own body. He grew in size (Short Kings take note, take studio if you are approached by a deity), and soon he was a dark haired adult who was wearing a black suit on a white shirt and with a black tie.

    "Who knew all it took to grow up was a change of scenery?" He chuckled, patting himself down. "I''m back baby¡ªerr, man!". He willed for the mask that was handed to him to appear, and it did. He put it on and only then did he look around to see his office. The office was spacious, definitely too spacious, with the only light source coming from behind a moon.

    This was the same plane where he met the deity before in the afterlife. Without waiting much, he pictured a steampunk inspired office without any windows or ventilation. But it was too small for a person who was about to do world domination and Godhood.

    Soon, the black, expansive plane was replaced by a grand throne room, which stood on an elevated platform and was adorned with bright luxuries. a second viewing platform surrounded the three sides beside the side with the throne. Smooth red curtains made of silk were hanging from the platforms.

    The throne was cushioned with red fabric and was designed with patterns of gold... yeah he went with the gold. He also imagined a white marble table to appear in the empty space between the throne and the other end, he also made some light cushioned seats made of dark wood on the sides.

    He filled the rest with vases and paintings, the walls were screaming "Look at me, I''m ridiculously fancy." He made a dramatic walk toward the throne, though he did not have an audience, he would soon make some changes. He sat on the throne like he had just conquered the world. "Now, this is more like it," he said, smirking behind his mask.

    "And to think, just a few minutes ago, I was worrying about diaper rashes."

 Chapter 7 - 7: The Art of Sitting Around and Thinking like an evil mastermind

    Judge stood up from his throne after a long while, just sitting around till he got cramps wouldn''t help him with getting his audience, and definitely not in his acts for world domination. Imagine limping into a battle, trying to be all menacing, and your enemy''s just like, "Dude, do you need a stretch break?" Yeah, no thanks.

    If he was serious about world domination, he had to stay on top of things¡ªor at least be able to walk without wincing.

    Sure, world conquerors probably had worse problems, like finding an empire-sized pair of pants, Like, where exactly do you find empire-sized trousers? Is there a special tailor who takes measurements for "world emperor" capes? Does one have to invent a whole new currency when you''ve conquered everything? These were pressing questions, but right now, he had to focus.

    He thought hard as he walked to and fro, he wanted to get out in his adult form, After all, nobody would take a baby seriously if he tried to assert global dominance. Imagine waddling into a kingdom and declaring yourself supreme ruler while still wearing a diaper. You''d be lucky if they didn''t just hand you a pacifier and send you on your way.

    But the skill description was pretty clear, if he exited the studio, he would be returned to the exact spot where he entered. Normally, that wouldn''t be a big deal, but he''d entered the studio while in his crib. And, well, his crib wasn''t exactly designed for a full-grown man, also, being a baby wouldn''t help in moving around, he still needed to get out.

    "Great," he muttered. "Stuck between world domination and the literal crib I was born in." Talk about an existential crisis.

    But then, like a spark of genius¡ªor maybe just desperation¡ªan idea struck him, he had to make sure he hadn''t turned on his super brain to be proud of himself. What if he didn''t transform into a full adult right away? What if he took on the form of a young boy? Just tall enough to walk around and maybe do some baby parkour (if that was a thing), but still small enough to fit into the crib.

    It was brilliant. Well, brilliant in the "I might not end up stuck in baby jail forever" kind of way.

    But before he could even start patting himself on the back for his sheer genius, something caught his eye. There was an open window in his mother''s room. An open window in a house filled with gold-plated everything. A house so fancy it probably had a butler for the butlers. A red flag popped up so fast, it practically smacked him in the face.

    If his family was rich enough to gold-plate everything in sight, they probably had more enemies than a politician with Twitter.

    Surely, they wouldn''t just leave windows hanging open for any random assassin or thief to stroll through and have a cup of tea with his mother while she preaches them about the error of their ways, it had the word "trap" written all over it. Or she was confident enough that nobody could enter the place, maybe she was secretly a ninja. Was she that confident in her strength?

    or did her confidence emerge from the family''s knights?

    Still, whether it was a trap or not, Judge had no intention of testing his parkour skills anytime soon. The last thing he needed was to be featured in the morning paper with the headline: "Local Baby Found Dangling from Windowsill in Bizarre Escape Attempt." Not the legacy he was going for.

    Either way, it would not spell a good ending for him. So he looked for the next best plausible solution, and another plan put his mind into work. Inspired by a memory of his grandfather teleporting them to a gazebo in the garden using some sort of magical sphere. If only he had one of those magical spheres right now, his problems would be solved.

    But alas, his grandfather had not exactly left the family teleportation device lying around in the open like a TV remote, and they did not even had a TV.

    While he had no way of obtaining the sphere, he could still attempt the ethercraft, but he did not know how to do ethercraft which worked on a different principle than magic. In his previous world, magic was like ordering takeout: clear visualization or the right chant, and boom¡ªmagic. Here? It was more like trying to assemble IKEA furniture with instructions written in ancient runes.

    But hey, he''d give it a shot.

    He felt like he was trying to solve a Rubik''s cube while blindfolded, and he wasn''t exactly the genius kind. Still, he gave it a try, closing his eyes and visualizing him teleporting across the throne room. He imagined it in vivid detail¡ªthe room, the walls, the floor. And then, just like that, he teleported!

    He nearly threw himself a little party, complete with confetti and a tiny cake, maybe a little pi?ata hanging on the wall, until reality slapped him in the face¡ªhard. The harsh truth set in, it only worked because he was inside the Studio.

    Magic in this world wasn''t going to be a walk in the park¡ªit was more like a walk on piled-up hot coals, uphill, both ways. He tried to wrap his baby brain around how the magic worked here. Did it require a medium, like the sphere his grandpa used? Did he need to sacrifice a goat or dance under the full moon? Nope, too complicated. His mental CPU started overheating, so he wisely decided to give up.

    Deciding that his baby brain had officially hit its limit for magical theorizing, he gave up. His mind was overheating like an old computer with less RAM than his trusted allies, with too many tabs open. He needed a break, so he turned back into a baby with baby clothes (Because being naked didn''t exactly fit his rich background) and returned to where he came from.

    His nap in his little baby jail felt more comfortable than ever after tiring his legs for too long. Getting the audience for his throne room could wait until after nap time.

    Soon, morning came, and so did the disturbances. Baths were not his cup of tea, and the maids definitely weren''t either, they insisted on cleaning every inch of him like he was some kind of royal teacup. But he was still thankful towards them for cleaning him up and dressing him.

    After taking a bath and changing clothes, his mother came to take him and give him breakfast. Starting the day with a full belly was always the way to go, even if you were trying for a PhD in world domination or just doing the practicals.

    After his daily protein intake, he thought about how he could take the sphere from his grandfather. Start small, he reminded himself. World domination could wait; first, he needed to swipe a magical ball from Grandpa.

    He hadn''t formulated a concrete plan yet, but it was on his to-do list¡ªright under "escape from crib" and "learn how ethercraft works without breaking brain." But it was above "Learn the language."

    His father came in after some time, "Where is my little angel?" he called out in that cringey, sing-songy tone that only dads could pull off without feeling embarrassed. Judge, however, cringed internally. Little angel? Really? Dad, I''m trying to take over the world here. His father scooped him, and started to walk out, followed by his mother.

    Just then, a knight rushed to his father, "Sir Stein" The knight held the handle of the sheathed sword and bowed, it seemed to be a form of salute in this world. "What is it?" his father gave him to his mother, who smiled and cuddled him as if she was trying to reassure him that everything was alright.

    But he was a veteran when it came to scenes with foreshadowing, and this was prime foreshadowing territory, and nothing about this situation screamed "all good."

    "We found a lead on the cult''s whereabouts," the knight reported. "We should investigate further."

    Judge''s enhanced baby senses kicked in, and he noticed ether particles zipping between them as they talked, so fast that it would be impossible to see without something like an enhanced cognition.

    So, this was how he was able to understand the language! But the thrill of discovery was quickly put to rest as his dad turned to his wife and him, "Bye honey," He first said to Eleyn "Bye, sweetie. Daddy''s gonna go whack some bad people!" Judge was about to die from the cringe. His father said it, but he was the one embarrassed.

    It still dawned on him why his father was using ethercraft to translate what he said. "He could be having his own circumstances," He reassured himself and tried to feel his father''s warmth.

    His mother walked forward the other way from his father on the smooth, polished marble tile of the very long hallway from yesterday, he was thankful that at least the floor was not made of gold.

    S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 8 - 8: Teleportation for Babies: Judges New Bedtime Story

    Eleyn was out on a stroll, cradling her baby like a prized loaf of bread, oblivious to the fact that her little bundle of joy was secretly plotting world domination. Her only concern was The fact that her husband had casually walked into their room earlier, dripping in blood, with horns not retracted. And no, this wasn''t the medieval equivalent of a messy day at work.

    Nobles weren''t supposed to flaunt their horns when not in battle¡ªit was considered "not proper." But hey, he was definitely not winning any Father of the Year awards either.

    As she walked, her mind wandered to more pressing issues¡ªlike how utterly boring it was to just sit around all day reading. Sure, she was an unstoppable force who made childbirth look like a mildly uncomfortable yoga session, but a little post-baby exhaustion wouldn''t have hurt, she could''ve slept away the boredom that way.

    She wished she could kick back like the elves or dwarves, who got to lounge around after their babies were born. Lucky them, sipping tea, feet up, reading Elven Weekly while the world passed them by (Not actually though, they were sleeping from exhaustion). But her? She had to bounce back immediately. And, unfortunately, it was getting boring fast.

    As boredom teased her aggressively, She had a brilliant Idea after thinking about elves: why not check on the elf tutor who was currently trying to educate her older children, Amber and Liam? Now that might be entertaining¡ªwatching someone else suffer for a change. Kidding, she was just there to check on her children''s education, like a responsible mother... Yeah.

    But also, watching an elf attempt to teach two pint-sized hurricanes? A+ entertainment.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge, on the other hand, was sound asleep in his mom''s arms, having no idea when he''d drifted off. His head was pounding, thanks to the fact that he forgot to turn off his enhanced cognition. Just how careless can a person be, but hey, he was still a baby, carelessness is an expected trait.

    Just as he was about to shut his EC down, he heard an unknown voice he had never heard before (EC -> Enhanced Cognition). Curious, he peeked over and saw a woman¡ªan elf, to be exact, with ears sharp enough to pick up satellite signals and a fashion sense that screamed "I''m too fancy for my own good."

    She was decked out in a blue full skirt, completed with a set of ribbons and laces, her dress was just too fancy for a casual wear inside someone''s house. Her blonde hair was neatly tied up in a bun that probably took longer to perfect than most people spent getting dressed, and most females take a lot of time getting dressed.

    "So let me repeat what I just explained," She was taking lessons to his parent stealers (Siblings). "Ethercraft can be used in any form as long as the user knows the principles behind it and applies it properly. So, for the next exercise, I want you to try and form your own ethercraft.

    Remember, ethercraft is all about creativity and principles, and as long as you have the right principles, you can let your creativity run wild and create anything with ether." She paused, letting the little geniuses¡ªages six and two¡ªdigest this nugget of wisdom. Then she dropped the bomb-

    "But!" She said with a serious look on her face, "Please be mindful about your psyche, using ethercraft which is too complex for your psyche to handle will make you go mad, and will be left as a shell of your former being, ready to be killed because your mind is already dead." She never considered that she was telling about the consequences to a six-year-old and a two-year-old.

    She might as well have told them not to eat too much candy before bed.

    Judge was so invested that he forgot to cry¡ªhe forgot two very important things: he was starving, and his head was throbbing like a bad dubstep beat. His cry forced his mom to leave the room in order to feed him. Once outside and after making sure the door was closed, she leaned forward with Judge gripped tightly in her arms, and ran at such a speed that made Usain bolt back down and take notes.

    In fact, she was practically a blur, did she not consider that a newborn baby was in her arms?

    She stopped right in front of their room, but Physics decided to take a medical leave today as he never experienced any kinetic force for the duration of his travels, but the air around decided to side with Physics as they moved around chaotically, creating turbulence and shockwaves.

    His mother slowly entered the room as she was just back from a leiserous stroll. Once inside, she settled onto the bed and began feeding him. Judge, now fully aware that his mom might actually be a superhero (or supervillain), decided it was best to eat up and stay on her good side. After all, world domination was going to require some serious parental support.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Day gave way for the night, and judge was put inside his crib instead of on the bed, near his mom. But this time, he didn''t complain, he used interdimensional VPN to travel to his studio, which was just as complicated as putting an iPhone into silent mode.

    Once inside and grown up to be a full-grown adult, threw on his signature mask, and parked himself on the throne like the mastermind he was, not. And then, only then, did he start thinking of what the elf tutor said.

    His mind wandered back to the elf tutor''s words about ethercraft¡ªbeing all about creativity and principles. That sounded great in theory, but in practice, he felt like someone had handed him a book called "Teleportation for Dummies" and left out all the pages.

    If ethercraft was really based on just plane creativity and principles, what about the time when his grandfather used a sphere to teleport before?

    Was that another form of ethercraft? or was that an artifact? He decided not to whack his brain further with that trail of thoughts. He instead focused on how to properly create a principle for teleporting.

    Of course, teleporting was not as easy as ordering a quantum physics for babies textbook on Amazon (Yes that is a thing). He could still try to develop a principle for teleporting, not that he was familiar with it.

    After a bit of thinking, he realized one thing: teleporting wasn''t just moving from point A to point B. It was more like folding space, or at least making two places temporarily connect, he heard that on YouTube. If he could just imagine that the space around him was flexible, like bending paper, then he could theoretically move across it by "pinching" two points together.

    With that in mind, he needed a way to form his principle. Ether seemed to be like a universal power source, so it should be possible to use it to create a connection between two points. He decided to keep things simple:

    1. Visualize the place he wanted to go.

    2. Picture the ether connecting his current position to that spot, like a bridge or a string.

    3. Use the ether to "pull" the two points closer until they overlapped. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    4. cross over.

    5. you completed all the steps.

    This was starting to feel like an informative reel on Instagram¡ªFor those who don''t know¡ªwithout any knowledgeable or useful info.

    It sounded reasonable. Now, it was time to test it. He closed his eyes, focusing on a corner of the throne room. He visualized the ether like threads, stretching out from where he was sitting to the distant corner. Slowly, he tugged at them, pulling the two spaces closer together, trying to fold the distance between them.

    For a moment, nothing happened. He frowned, but then suddenly, he felt a shift. It was as if the air around him rippled, and in a blink, he was standing in the corner of the room.

    It worked. He blinked in surprise. No party poppers, no confetti, but hey, he just teleported! The principle seemed to be solid: using ether to connect two points, then pulling them together, he was confident that this was not the effect of studio at play.

    He did a little victory shuffle, more out of relief than excitement. His principle was simple and effective, and it didn''t involve any quantum-level headaches or the need for goat sacrifices.

    With teleporting now in his toolbox, he felt like he was one step closer to world domination. Baby steps, literally. He could finally go out and make his grand debut in his new world, it was time for him to gather his audience in the throne room.

    But one problem still remained, he wondered why problems loved him more than sleep. When he was out on his grand venture into wherever the teleportation takes him, his mother could actually wake to find her baby gone. Now that was not a very ideal situation.

    But that was for another day, he still needed his rest and he had already spent a lot of time in his personal dimension. So he headed back with more tasks to achieve the next day.

 Chapter 9 - 9: How to Not Die (Step One: Donâ€™t Switch Souls with a Rubber Doll)

    Judge sat on his oversized, luxurious throne in the Studio, mulling over one of his next brilliant ideas. He''d already experimented with teleportation, enough to know that with enough principle (and sheer stubbornness), he could fold space like it was a badly written script.

    But today? Today, he was going to take things up a notch. Teleportation would solve a problem but create another problem, so creating a clone and switching with it seemed like a better plan. No need to break reality every time he wanted to move from point A to point B. His baby legs deserved better.

    So, he rolled up his sleeves, stretched out his mental faculties like an athlete before a big match, and began the arduous process of creating his clone.

    "Alright," Judge muttered to himself, "it''s time to duplicate this perfection."

    He stood in front of a mirror he summoned (because why not have a mirror in your interdimensional space?) and focused hard on the idea of a clone¡ªa mirror image of himself, but preferably without all the baby fat and the constant need to be fed.

    He pictured the mirror version of himself... nothing happened. Maybe if he tried hard? He tried again... still nothing. His personal space refused cooperate, he dropped the idea quicker than a boyfriend going for milk after getting the pregnancy results.

    He decided to adopt ethercraft, because magic always works out somehow. He looked into the mirror again and almost fell for his own beauty, "Man I''m such a lady killer" He thought. He thought about what kind of materials are the best when it comes to making a clone and decided to opt for rubber.

    He first conjured up some rubber and plastic for the skin and bones, he put them in front of the mirror. Ether swirled around him, turning into a rather big orb in front of the mirror. His eyes sparkled as he visualized the masterpiece he was about to create... Himself. He used ether to melt both the materials and made a path for them to follow.

    In a burst of light that looked suspiciously like confetti, the clone appeared. There it was, standing in front of him¡ªa perfect replica, wearing the same black suit, the same handsome face, and the same mildly annoyed expression.

    Judge looked the clone up and down, gave a nod of approval, and whispered, "Not bad. Not bad at all." And after a pause, he continued "Gosh! I''m such a lady killer," He couldn''t hold back the thought.

    The clone, predictably, said nothing. It just stood there, waiting. Judge decided to name it... Clone-Judge. It was simple, to the point, he didn''t require any creativity.

    Next up: teleportation. He scratched his chin (yes, he summoned a beard just so he could dramatically scratch it). His earlier teleportation experiments had worked, but this time, the stakes were higher. He wanted to switch places with Clone-Judge, not just zap to some random spot in his own Studio. Simple in theory, complicated in execution.

    But he was Judge¡ªcomplicated was his middle name (well, not really, but it might as well be since he doesn''t have a middle name) and he was still in the dark about his family name, all he knew was that it had something to do with ''Dragons''.

    He adjusted his teleportation principle. Before, he had just visualized his destination, pull the ether strings, connect the fabric of space between the two places, and poof¡ªteleportation done. This time, he had to use Clone-Judge as the destination, making sure that their respective locations swapped. Easy? Not at all. Possible?

    Absolutely.

    Judge focused, letting his mind wrap around the idea. Ether buzzed around him like a swarm of eager fireflies, and he visualized the principle: instead of just going somewhere, his soul and body would switch coordinates with Clone-Judge''s. One second passed. Then two. Then¡ª

    Pop.

    Judge blinked. He wasn''t on the throne anymore. He was standing where Clone-Judge had been, while Clone-Judge now sat smugly on the throne, wearing an expression that was exactly the same as his own but somehow more annoying. But he soon realized something, he was not breathing, in fact, his arms felt like rubber...

    "Wait a damn minute!" he screamed (at least he tried to) as he realized what had just happened.

    He had switched places with the clone, but only his soul was switched, not his body. He immediately switched back and patted himself and breathed heavily to make sure everything was alright. And finally, he gave a sigh of relief, he did not die because he was inside the studio.

    He crossed his arms, looking solemn and definitely not in the mood for jokes. He had two choices in front of him, Either he try to perfectly switch between him and the clone, or he create a functional clone that could guarantee him being alive even if he was outside.

    Both were complicated and the former one seemed more plausible. While he was thinking hard on a solution, a blue light appeared and flashed.

    "Ugh, her again," he groaned.

    From the blinding light appeared the deity of stories, gliding down as though gravity simply didn''t apply to her. She smiled at him, her whole vibe exuding "I''m here to make your life both easier and infinitely more difficult." She descended slowly before him and stood on the red carpet between his throne and the descending stairs which led to the long table made of marble.

    "Have you lost your way, little one?" She said with a smile. like some ancient therapist with a questionable track record.

    "Hold up" Judge motioned his hand for her to stop, "First of all, no, just no. Second, this is not the set of ''Doctor Deity, How May I Fix You?'' And third, I haven''t even done anything wrong¡ªyet... well, since I am a baby."

    The deity pouted, which looked incredibly bizarre on someone who claimed to govern all stories. "You should know that you are the only one who speaks to me this way. The girl I just met a few moments ago was so much respectful." She looked like a young girl throwing a tantrum.

    Judge blinked. "The girl?" He didn''t like the sound of that. The last thing he needed was a colleague. He had enough on his plate already¡ªbaby schedules, world domination, creating clones. Networking was not on the agenda.

    "Oh yes, I got another recorder of stories," Feigning ignorance to Judge''s growing discomfort. "She''s very far from where you are now, but don''t worry, you''ll meet her eventually. Years from now, actually., but I assure you that you will see her." The deity was smiling again.

    Judge shifted uncomfortably. Fantastic. A playdate with another recorder. Just what I needed. "Right, moving on," he said quickly, waving off the idea of ''colleagues.'' "Why are you really here?"

    The deity brightened, seemingly glad to have an excuse to drop more unresponsible advice. "Ah, yes! I saw you were struggling with your little cloning business, so I thought I''d remind you of something important. Since you are behind your schedule in providing a proper story." She snapped her fingers, and Judge''s mask appeared in her hands.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed. "Okay, what cryptic nugget of wisdom do you have this time?" He said with a sigh. He was just a baby and she was already expecting him to provide stories, but as long as he could get out, he was willing to provide a story or two.

    She grinned and tossed him the mask. "Remember, the cameraman never dies." And just like that¡ªpoof¡ªshe vanished into thin air, leaving only her vague words and a mildly annoyed baby genius.

    Judge stared at the mask for a second before a lightbulb (an imaginary one, of course) popped above his head. "Of course! The mask! How could I forget?"

    With a new plan in place, he put the mask on, feeling the familiar weight settle over his face. He didn''t just look like the world''s most mysterious cameraman; he was the world''s most mysterious cameraman. "I won''t die as long as I wear this one, and I can get out and record stories, oh I''m such a genius"

    Satisfied with his brilliance, Judge decided it was time to test the final product. He was ready for the next step. He went back to his crib, snuggling into the sheets with an evil grin¡ªwell, as evil as a baby could manage¡ªand drifted off to sleep, ready for tomorrow night''s big test.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Morning came, and with it, the usual chaotic rituals of baby life. Baths were splashes of unwanted cold water, dressing up was like being squeezed into a fashionable straightjacket, and breakfast...well, breakfast was delightful, as long as you liked being spoon-fed mashed goo, as humiliating as it was to say this, but he had to say it, he missed milk, all because of some kind of sweet goo.

    Judge endured it all with the patience of a man plotting his rise to power (which, coincidentally, he was). S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The day went by without much fanfare. There was the usual family chitchat, some cryptic mutterings from his grandfather, and his mother''s casual strolls around the estate, his father was nowhere to be found. But the real action was coming as night fell. That was when Judge would put his teleportation plan to the ultimate test.

 Chapter 10 - 10: How do I tell a giant bird that a mannequin is not tasty

    Night came once more, and with it, Judge entered the Studio again, now wearing his cameraman mask like a supervillain preparing for his big heist. Time for Phase Two. He summoned Clone-Judge again, and this time, he thought of the best materials he could think of to make his clone with.

    He first activated his EC, he thought hard about the materials he would use. "Carbon fiber... titanium... cobalt-chrome alloy... yeah, sounds about right." He scratched his head. "Why does this feel like I''m about to build a luxury sports car?

    And he doesn''t even know how to make one"

    He booted up his ether, and like an expert in a Blender tutorial, he made a mental 3D viewport and immediately pressed F12 for a quick render. The carbon fiber formed into a block, sturdy and lightweight¡ªjust like the Judge 2.0 should be. Then came the titanium, shiny and imposing, because why settle for anything less?

    Finally, the cobalt-chrome alloy, because you need something that sounds super science-y to make a perfect clone.

    Piece by piece(well he actually changed the state of metal and carbon fiber to liquid, but this is just here for context), he constructed Clone-Judge with a precision that any graphic designer would envy. Base of cobalt-chrome? Check. Joints of carbon fiber? Check. Titanium-coated exterior?

    You bet. And for the final touch, a thin layer of carbon fiber over the whole thing¡ªbecause Judge had no idea why, but it just looked cool. Maybe because walking around in a shiny titanium body was not the way to go, since most thieves in a fantasy world don''t actually care if you are alive while looting.

    For the final touch, he needed to make it look more like a human, because people aren''t really textured like carbon fiber unless he was in an unfinished, glitchy videogame, which he definitely wasn''t. He started with Acrylic Paint, making sure it reached every nook and cranny, then came the epoxy topcoat, which he put it over to mimic the luster of human skin.

    But he changed it midway and decided to focus more on the facial features. After removing the epoxy and acrylic, he summoned some TPE (Thermoplastic elastomers) to make the face look more human, and applied it to the head, neck, and arms.

    He jumped up as he marveled at the beauty he had created, it was a spitting image of himself... if he was made of carbon fiber of course. Without much time to spare, he sent the clone out into the real world with a snap of his fingers.

    "Go forth, minion," Judge said, waving dismissively as Clone-Judge disappeared into the void. He did not know where it ended up, it could be inside a dense forest full of monsters for all he cared.

    With the clone now outside the Studio, Judge felt a surge of satisfaction. "Now, for the big one. Let''s do that tomorrow and head back now" Judge shrank to the size of a baby, and he accidentally did the teleportation-switch ethercraft instead of heading back from his studio to inside his crib. The ether hummed around him like it had just downed an entire pot of coffee¡ªwith milk, and then-

    Pop.

    Judge swiftly tried to exit his studio, fully expecting to return to his crib and laugh at how smoothly everything had gone. Except... when his eyes opened, he wasn''t in his crib. His two brain cells that were still functioning told him of how he had manually and absent-mindedly switched places with the clone that was sent out to the world instead of going back to bed. Stupid!

    Nope.

    Judge stood in the middle of the forest, his mind racing and his feet glued to the ground. He looked up, way up, at the trees towering over him like skyscrapers that had grown ancient and grumpy.

    The trees were so tall, that he half-expected them to start nagging him for not wearing a set of armor, or worse, messing with nature''s plan.

    The branches were twisted in such a way that it gave the impression that the trees had personalities, and those personalities were not very friendly. It was as if they were glaring at him, silently judging his life choices, and deciding whether to eat him raw or cooked (Fertilised).

    "I have seriously jinxed this," Judge muttered to himself, spinning around in circles, trying to get his bearings. And the night inside this forest? Let''s just say it had the vibe of, I''m watching you, kid.

    The night air was cold with a hostile silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves overhead. Those rustles? Yeah, they didn''t sound innocent, like, not innocent at all¡ªthey had that creepy, ''I see you'' vibe. He could practically feel the forest watching him, like he was the star of a survival reality show where the trees were the audience, and he was about to be voted off.

    "Wooh!" Judge yelled into the night, his voice barely echoing back. His did that to keep his calm, not let his panic overtake him. "Where in the steampunky ether world am I?" This forest did not fit the steampunk theme that he had thought of the world.

    It didn''t take him long to realize that his perfect, genius plan had gone slightly off track, his genius brain, flawless in theory, had apparently decided to take a vacation. His clone had teleported to some random location in the middle of the wilderness, and now, thanks to their switch, Judge was the one stuck here.

    Worse still, as he tried to call on his ether to return to the Studio, he felt a terrible emptiness inside.

    His ether was completely drained, leaving just a few specks of ether inside him, which just helps his soul move his clone body, which, thankfully, did not drain his ether, the low battery notification had not yet popped up, so he made a mental note of adding one after he got out of the forest and figured out how.

    "Are you kidding me?!" Judge groaned, slumping to the ground. "I''m a baby with world domination plans, stuck in a forest without a clue where I am."

    He glanced up at the dark sky, now fully aware that the trees above him weren''t just ominous¡ªthey were menacing. Leaves rustling rather ominously (very ominously) overhead. "This is fine. Totally fine. Not like I''m stranded or anything¡­" He was.

    He continued to comfort himself, "I''m a genius, the best of current existence. I''ve got this." He did not, in fact, ''have this''.

    And thus, Judge¡ªbaby mastermind extraordinaire¡ªfound himself stranded in the middle of nowhere, wearing a suit that was much too formal for the occasion, and with zero ether to get himself out.

    "Yep, I''m a genius," he muttered sarcastically, staring into the dark forest with an annoyed expression, walking forward in his newly made clone, with all the dignity of a potato sack. "I''m a baby stuck in the woods with zero ether, and I didn''t even bring snacks!"

    Judge tugged at the collar of his outfit. His suit, which was custom-made for plotting and scheming, was entirely defenseless when it came to... well¡ªdefending.

    "This suit was not made for hiking," he muttered, kicking at a stray twig. "I''m supposed to be plotting world domination, not going on some wilderness survival adventure." He opened his arms and half an arm-length shortsword popped out. "At least I have this for defense"

    He touched his face to make sure the mask was still attached, which was unnecessary since he wouldn''t be able to lift his hand without the mask (He would die If you haven''t forgotten).

    He decided to draft a story for the deity, since she was complaining of not getting any and he was just in the perfect condition. The MC being himself, since he hadn''t gotten any personnel yet. He was thinking of an interview to be held soon. And also! A mysterious masked man, in a dark forest, in the middle of the night was what you call an intriguing setup.

    Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He heard something¡ªa distant sound, it was faint but unmistakable. A waterfall, the sound came from his left.

    Hoping to find a clue that would lead him out of this eerily quiet and mysteriously unhostile forest, he decided to travel to the sound. When he realized something, he again jinxed himself, talking about how the forest was mysteriously unhostile.

    The waterfall formed a good-sized crystal clear pond that fed a river, the blue moonlight made the water shimmer in its light, making the scene more beautiful.

    The scenery was something that could not be put into words, but his biggest concern was the giant bird that was drinking water from the scenic pond.

    He decided to slowly back out, because even though his body was made of hard materials, his confidence in his body was not, and the deity had told him not to get cocky with his ''cameraman never dies'' trait.

    As he was slowly walking away, he stepped on a twig. Probably to get back at him for kicking a stray twig. But the plot was too cliche. Really? Stepping on a twig while retreating from an unnoticed enemy? He was still recording the story, maybe that caused the plot to pop up.

    He looked at the bird in fear, and to his dismay, the golden and sharp eyes were staring at him, like an eye of a true predator. "Oh baby poops!" Judge squeaked, his voice now sounded like he was writing his will after knowing he would die today. "I should''ve chosen plot armor!" S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 11 - 11: Ether Well? More Like,

    Judge took out his shortsword with a dramatic pose, as if he were about to face down a dragon... or in this case, a giant bird. The titanium blade sparked in the moonlight, and for a split second, he almost felt like a hero. Almost.

    In reality, he was about to face a very large, very angry bird.

    He leaned forward in what he imagined was an impressive stance, ready to face his feathery doom. He wasn''t going to die here, not in the middle of this forest where his grand plan of world domination had taken a sharp detour.

    "Alright, you overgrown chicken, let''s dance," he muttered under his breath, trying to motivate himself up. Sure, in his previous life, he used a sword as a medium for magic, and yeah, he knew some swordplay. But "knew" was doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

    His sword skills were about as formidable as a beginner''s knitting class, since using it as a medium for magic and actually using it was entirely different. His actual sword skills? Rustier than the hinges on a forgotten gate. But hey, confidence is half the battle, right? Right?

    The bird, however, did not seem impressed by his posturing. It let out a low screech, flaring its wings dramatically. Each wing was larger than Judge''s entire body. "Okay... this is fine. I just need to aim for the¡ª" The bird cut him off with another screech, as if to say, "You talk too much."

    "Noted," Judge whispered, gripping his sword tighter, his hands sweaty under the mask. "Alright, sword. It''s just you and me. I hope you still remember how to do... anything."

    The bird charged.

    Judge charged.

    And then, they both stopped, staring at each other. Judge blinked. The bird blinked. "Uh, are we supposed to, like, fight now? Or...?" Judge stammered, feeling extremely awkward.

    The bird turned its head to the side, almost confused. "Okay, here goes nothing!" Judge leaped forward in what he thought was a very graceful attack. It wasn''t. He tripped over a rock and nearly TPE face-planted into the dirt, but somehow¡ªby some miracle¡ªhe managed to swipe his sword through the air toward the bird. His sword slashed wildly through the air, completely missing the bird.

    The bird hopped backward, watching Judge flail like a child trying to swordfight with a pool noodle, looking down at him with what could only be described as birdy disdain. It blinked once.

    The sheer size difference between them made the whole scene even more ridiculous. The bird was gigantic, towering over him, and Judge was... well, a slightly bigger baby in an adult clone body. Not exactly heroic.

    "Alright, Plan B!" Judge shouted, straightening up and trying to ignore how much dirt was now on his suit. He pointed his sword at the bird dramatically, trying to focus his ether. "Let''s see if I can still do a magic trick or two."

    He concentrated, and the ether buzzed through him like an over-caffeinated hummingbird. He swung his sword in a wide arc, hoping to release a wave of energy that would at least startle the bird. Instead, what came out was more of a fizzle than a flash¡ªa tiny, unimpressive spark... No, calling that a spark was a humiliation for other sparks.

    The bird blinked again, clearly unimpressed. Judge blinked again. "Well, that''s embarrassing," he muttered, staring at the sword in disbelief. "You had one job!"

    The bird took a step forward, apparently deciding it had had enough of this comedy show. Judge''s eyes widened as the bird lunged, its beak aimed directly at him. He dodged to the side with a squeak that was definitely not dignified.

    Panic surged through him now. This wasn''t a joke anymore. This bird could kill him. The stakes were suddenly very real, and the idea of dying in a forest, at the beak of a giant bird, wasn''t how Judge pictured his grand quest ending.

    "Why do they never teach you how to fight birds in sword school?" he grumbled, swinging his blade again. This time, the sword caught a feather, just one, plucking it free.

    "HA! Take that!" he shouted triumphantly, holding the feather like a trophy. The bird, now very, very angry, let out a low-pitched screech and flapped its massive wings, creating a gust of wind that knocked Judge off his feet. He landed flat on his back with a grunt.

    "Great. Now I''m a feather-collecting idiot," he groaned, staring up at the dark sky.

    Just as the bird prepared to peck him into oblivion, something deep inside him stirred. The faint glow of ether flickered at the edge of his vision. It pulsed, stronger this time. His sword began to glow faintly. "Oh, NOW you decide to work?!" he shouted at the sword, before swinging it wildly, releasing ether by using the sword as a medium. Not the intended use for ether, but if it works, it works.

    A burst of ether shot out from the blade, hitting the bird square in the chest. The bird squawked, clearly more startled than hurt, and flapped its wings furiously. In a flurry of feathers and angry screeches, it took off into the night sky, leaving Judge alone by the waterfall, panting.

    "I did it," he breathed, lying in the dirt. "I fought a bird. And I won. Sort of."

    After catching his breath, Judge stood up and dusted himself off. His suit was now officially ruined. "Well, there goes my tailor''s deposit," he muttered, but he couldn''t help feeling a small sense of accomplishment. He''d survived.

    And then he saw it¡ªa faint glow emanating from behind the waterfall. Curious (and with nothing better to do), Judge walked toward the source of the light. Behind the waterfall, nestled within the rocks, was a shimmering pool of liquid ether, swirling with a bright glow.

    "Is that¡­ an Ether Well?" Judge whispered, eyes wide. "So that''s why I got my ether back! And here I was regretting not taking plot armor." He had never seen one in person before, well... since he never actually left the house until today. He had heard the elf tutor talk about it just this morning.

    Ether Wells were natural reserves of concentrated ether, formed in hidden places around the world due to the flow of underground ether, and all of the cities were formed around large ether wells. Large as in, comparing this etherwell and an etherwell that ran a city was like comparing a puddle with a big reservoir.

    They were the main source of power in the steampunk setting, well it was more like etherpunk but who cares?

    Without thinking twice, Judge leaned over the pool and dipped his hand into the shimmering liquid. Instantly, a surge of energy rushed through his soul, refilling his drained ether reserves in an instant, and possibly increasing it, though slightly.

    "Oh yeah, that''s the good stuff," he said, grinning from ear to ear. He felt like he''d just had the best cup of coffee in existence. "Now, we''re talking."

    Feeling invincible once more, Judge stood up straight, cracked his neck, and focused on returning to the Studio. "Alright, clone-me, time to switch back." With a snap of his fingers, the ether hummed around him, and in a blink, he was back in his throne, in his baby form. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He was never more happy to be a baby again, and since he got his body back, decided to head back to sleep. Feeling refreshed he exited the studio, getting the sensational feeling of being inside his crib.

    "All in a day''s work," he mumbled, before immediately passing out into the deepest sleep he''d had in a long, long time.

 Chapter 12 - 12: Dads missing, but do I care? No!

    The morning was just another normal day for Judge. Well, as normal as it could be when you''re a mastermind stuck in a baby body, plotting to manipulate nobles from the safety of your crib. Today, however, something felt different. He could sense it¡ªthe slight drop in his mother''s smile, the way her eyes darted around the room.

    It was like the air had tension in it, but not the kind of tension you''d get from an important international athletic match. No, this was more like... "Mom''s going to ground me" tension.

    He had no idea what was wrong, but one thing was for sure¡ªhe wasn''t solving this mystery without knowing what the actual problem was. Which was a bit like trying to play chess without a board. His baby brain spun, but no solution appeared.

    After breakfast¡ªan affair that mostly involved him pretending to be a normal, happy baby while planning the conquest of nations in his head¡ªhis mother scooped him up and carried him off to check on her children''s lessons. This had become part of her new routine for the last three days, and Judge had just about gotten used to it. But something clicked in his mind as they walked.

    "Three days ago... Father was last seen three days ago," he thought. "Coincidence? I think not. Is that why Mom looks gloomy?" He had bad feeling about this, but he was confident in his father and the knights who went with him.

    The plot thickened, but alas, Judge had no time to dwell on it, as they arrived at the lesson room. His mother greeted the two knights standing guard outside the room. Their armor was a fancy mix of black metal with intricate silver patterns. At least, Judge thought it was silver. Could''ve been aluminum for all he knew.

    Either way, they greeted her in a way that screamed "professional knight," which was basically just holding their sword hilts and bowing forward like they were some cool kids pretending to be knights in a school costume ball.

    The knights opened the doors with a practiced ease, and Judge''s mother entered the room. Inside, a lesson was just starting. The elf tutor¡ªan elegant woman named Melina¡ªgreeted her with a warm, almost overly bright smile.

    "Miss Eleyn! You are here today as well," Melina chirped, beaming. She wore an emerald dress that looked like it was made out of materials used in a light bulb industry, with her usual braided bun perched on her head like the world''s most renowned pretzel.

    "Oh, don''t mind me. Just continue as usual," Judge''s mother replied with a graceful nod.

    Judge, on the other hand, was about to have a heart attack. Not from the presence of knights or magical tutors, but because he suddenly realized he could understand every word his mother was saying. Perfectly.

    "Hold on, wait... WHAT?!" Judge mentally screamed. "Since when do I understand... MOM?!"

    He stared, wide-eyed, feeling like he''d just been hit by a magical frying pan. Until now, he could never fully grasp what his mother was saying, as if some mystical force was keeping him in baby ignorance. But now? Now it was like someone flipped a switch.

    He could feel the ether humming in his body, and realization struck like a lightning bolt, it was the first time he heard his mother speak to the elf, he was asleep in all the previous sessions.

    "It''s ether! Ether is the reason I can understand her! But... how?!"

    Before he could unravel this latest magical puzzle, the elf tutor, Melina, had already started her lesson. Today''s topic? The races of the continent, and boy, was this about to get interesting.

    "Now, children," Melina began, her voice like honeyed silk, "on our great continent of Eldris, there are many races. Apart from the Royal family, there are many noble families that lead each race."

    Judge mentally groaned, this was going to be a boring and exhausting lecture class. But Melina went on, describing each race and its corresponding noble family. "First of all, let''s start with your family." She wrote something on the board.

    "While the royal family is composed of dragons, The Drakonis family represents the dragons. Dragons are the most impressive when it comes to transforming into ''human form''. They even have a second form which is similar to the ''Human Form'' with just horns and sharp ears. Transforming into a full dragon is now a rare thing to do."

    Judge''s heart was about to give him another wake-up call, "We? Dragons?"

    Then there was the Elorin family, governing the race of elves, most close to ether in its natural state that they are able to manipulate ether a lot better than other races.

    She touched on the Taruk family, a family that rules the mighty orcs who could snap a tree in half but somehow became aristocratic in their "human" forms.

    "Wait," Amber interrupted, raising a delicate hand. "Why do we always appear in our human forms? I''ve never seen someone not being in their human form. Except for dad with horns and sharp ears." He could now understand his sister too. What in the world was going on, was he starting to understand the language?

    Melina smiled, a little too knowingly. "Ah, excellent question, Miss Amber! Let''s say you are walking around in your true form, which means that you cannot enter places made by smaller races, and for all races to fit into society, it is a mandatory decision to be in their human form. Especially when you are to go to a social function with many other races.

    And also the most important thing is that Human form is the natural form of all races."

    Judge barely managed to hold back a snort. "So, they''re like shapeshifting debutantes. Perfect."

    She continued like a nerd who had just gotten a subject she was curious about, "While most race have only one Human Form, the dragons have two, and except for the house of Drakonis and the royal family, all are required to have their horns and sharp ears out."

    His Borther asked another question, which was translated by his sister. "Teacher Melina, I have another question from my brother." Amber''s brow widened slightly, like a kid full of curiosities. "How is it that I can understand you so clearly, even though you''re speaking Elvish? I''ve never learned a word of it."

    Melina''s eyes sparkled. "Ah, that''s due to the ethercraft known as translation! Though, it doesn''t actually translate words directly. Instead, it conveys the intent of the speaker to the listener. So, what you''re hearing isn''t a word-for-word translation of Elvish, but rather the meaning behind my words."

    Judge could only sit there, dumbfounded. "So... it''s like a magical subtitling service?" He silently marveled at the creative uses of ethercraft. "Ether is the gift that keeps on giving, now I know how to get more people into my Studio."

    The day passed in a haze of lessons, nobles, and ether-induced translations, until finally, Judge found himself meeting his grandfather. The old man wore a red, indigo, and white regal attire, he was sharp-eyed, and clearly not one to mince words. But what caught Judge''s attention was the man standing beside him¡ªa stranger, who stared at Judge as if he were a rare specimen. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After examining him for a moment, the stranger had a surprised face, he backed away from him and said something to his mother and grandpa. Whatever he said clearly shocked the old man, who looked between Judge and the stranger, a mix of surprise and... was that pride?

    Eleyn, beaming with happiness, scooped Judge up and carried him off, leaving Judge to wonder what exactly had just happened. "Okay, what''s the big news? Did I win the baby lottery or something?"

    As night fell, Judge was back in his Studio, his sanctuary of manipulation. He swapped places with his clone and instantly felt the familiar hum of ether all around him. He grinned. It was time to absorb the ether from the Ether Well and start training his body... or Soul, since his body was inside the studio.

    He realized that the ether was getting easier to absorb, when the topic of ether wells was presented yesterday, Melina did say that an ether well would greatly help in increasing one''s ether.

    The Ether Well''s energy surged around him, crackling like invisible lightning. As Judge meditated, he reflected on the natural phenomenon of Ether Wells. They were replenished by underground ether currents, like rivers of pure energy flowing beneath the surface. It was nature''s way of keeping the magical balance in check.

    But Judge had another trick up his sleeve. Since his clone didn''t technically have a brain, he didn''t need Psyche to cast magic, at least in theory. His soul handled the heavy lifting, which was fortunate because controlling ethercraft with a brainless clone would''ve been... complicated, to say the least.

    "Ether truly is the swiss army knife of magic," he thought, chuckling to himself.

    However, his amusement faded when he noticed something strange on one of the walls of the Ether Well. Every inch of the wall was exuding ether¡ªexcept for one rectangular spot. A dead zone, where no ether seemed to flow.

    Judge frowned. "That''s... weird." He reached out, but decided to stay for a little while. "Why isn''t this part of the wall doing its job?"

    His curiosity piqued, Judge made a mental note to investigate the anomaly. "Because nothing says ''let''s solve a mystery'' like a magic wall acting up."

    With a sigh, he leaned back, still absorbing ether, but his mind raced. What in the world was wrong with that spot on the wall?

 Chapter 13 - 13: Nothing is more fishy than a dimly lit bar

    The tavern was dimly lit, hardly being able to see the faces of three figures present on the bar. It was a very lively place, being the go-to place for many customers (if you actually lit it), but tonight, it was empty except for three people.

    A mysterious man sat at the bar, clad in a long black suit and dark navy waistcoat. His black top hat added a touch of style, he looked like a traveler who was just being fancy. He sipped his beer quietly, the amber liquid catching the faint light from the dim lanterns. The mood around him screaming, "I am so mysterious that I can almost sense the plot thickening."

    Near him, but two stools apart, another man sat with an aristocratic air. He was dressed in a blue tailcoat, white shirt, trousers, gloves¡ªeverything was saying "I''m important," including the black hat that perched on his head like a crown. If you didn''t know better, you''d think he was here to purchase the whole tavern just because he liked the decor.

    Hawthorne, the mysterious man in black, finally broke the silence. His voice was deep, like he was using soundboard to feel more mysterious. "What did you call me for? My work doesn''t come cheap."

    The nobleman, unfazed, leaned back and adjusted his gloves. "I''m well aware. I don''t hand out cheap work to mercenaries like you."

    Hawthorne took another sip of beer, eyeing the nobleman as if deciding whether he''d prefer to throw him out of the window or just listen. "Then spit it out. What do you need?" His tone was very unwelcoming, as if even seeing the guy was beneath him.

    The nobleman leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if even the walls might eavesdrop on the information that he was about to share. "Mr. Hawthorne, I want you to find something for me. Something... delicate."

    The bartender, polishing glasses with a deliberate slowness, glanced over but said nothing. After all, bartenders in mysterious scenes never say much unless they''re part of the plot.

    Hawthorne raised an eyebrow. "Delicate, huh? What are we talking? A missing cat? A love letter?"

    "A torn diary," the nobleman replied, his voice as sharp as his well tailored suit. "It belonged to an ethercraft researcher, someone who was studying the... less conventional sides of ether. The use of the said ethercraft seems to burn through your psyche due to the complexity, I want to know how much have it progressed and whether a less demanding principle was found"

    Hawthorne leaned back, setting his glass on the bar with a soft thud. "And what''s so special about this diary and its ethercraft?"

    The nobleman''s gloved fingers tapped the table, his eyes narrowing towards Hawthorne. "The researcher was working on something... unique. The ability to create nothing."

    Hawthorne blinked. "Nothing?"

    "Yes, nothing. To make nothing appear in a place where something should exist." The nobleman''s voice grew tense, as if even speaking about it made the room feel colder. "The researcher''s notes mention experiments inside the Devfronds Forest. I need you to find the rest of the diary."

    Hawthorne chuckled, though it lacked any credibility. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to go into a creepy forest filled with powerful monsters just to find the rest of a diary from a guy trying to create... nothing?"

    The nobleman nodded, his face serious. "Exactly."

    "Well nobody makes a joke with that face in this setting." The bartender finally slid in, placing a fresh glass in front of Hawthorne. "You''d better get paid well for that one, mate."

    Hawthorne gave a light, genuine laugh after hearing the bartender. "Oh, I will. But I''m curious¡ªwhat do you plan on doing with this ''nothing'' once I find it?"

    The nobleman''s lips curled into a thin smile. "That''s none of your concern, Mr. Hawthorne."

    Hawthorne shrugged, finishing his drink. "Fair enough. But I''ll warn you¡ªnothing''s a dangerous thing to mess with. Literally." He wanted to laugh after he had said it, but the scenario didn''t exactly let him do that. "And what makes you think I can find it? Maybe I prefer to work with...

    something."

    "Your reputation speaks for itself," The nobleman reached into his coat and pulled out a small slip, he unfolded it. He reached inside and took out a pen, writing a bill of fifty sten. Which was a huge sum "Consider this... an advance."

    Hawthorne took the slip, looking for any spots of a counterfeit cheque. "You''ve got my attention. But tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do once I find this diary containing information about... Nothing?"

    "Bring it to me, of course," the nobleman said smoothly. "The contents are... valuable. More valuable than you can imagine."

    The bartender, who had now polished the glass to a state of near transparency, couldn''t help but join in. "Valuable how? I mean, you''re talking about nothing. Seems like a risky investment."

    The nobleman didn''t even glance at him. "Let''s just say that what this researcher discovered could change the very nature of ethercraft as we know it."

    Hawthorne sighed, setting his glass down. "Fine. I''ll take the job. But if I end up finding a whole lot of nothing, you''d better believe I''ll be charging double."

    The nobleman smiled. "I trust you''ll find more than nothing in the Devfronds Forest."

    With that, the nobleman stood, tipped his hat¡ªbecause that''s what fancy people do¡ªtook his cane, and left the tavern. Leaving Hawthorne alone with his thoughts... and the bartender, who had definitely polished that glass long enough.

    The bartender finally broke the silence. "You really think there''s something to this ''nothing'' business?"

    Hawthorne chuckled, finishing his beer. "I don''t know pal. But I''ve learned that when nobles or their knight families are involved, there''s always something. Even when they''re talking about nothing."

    The bartender shrugged. "Guess that''s one way to make a living. Chasing nothing."

    Hawthorne stood, tipping his hat to the bartender. "If only things were that simple. I''ve got a bad feeling about this. Hope I could see you again." He left after leaving some black-colored stones on the counter.

    "Thank you for your patronage," The bartender smiled as his last customer of the day left.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Let''s see..." Judge muttered to himself, placing his hand on the cold stone of the cave wall, specifically where ether wasn''t flowing. A frown formed on his face. His first instinct was to punch right through it¡ªbecause, let''s be honest, when in doubt, break things¡ªbut he held back. He had no clue what was causing the blockage, and breaking stuff blindly wouldn''t solve anything.

    He wasn''t that reckless. Yet.

    Judge sighed and ran his TPE hand along the rough surface. "Okay, no smashing. Not now."

    He decided to try a different approach¡ªsomething more scientific. Ethercraft was all about being creative, right? He focused, summoning the ether within him to scan the wall. His first attempt was¡­ well, let''s just say it didn''t go well. His mind buzzed like an overworked engine, but the wall remained as silent as a rock (because it was a rock).

    "Alright, maybe I need to tweak the principle," he mumbled. He tried again, channeling his ether a bit more carefully this time. For a moment, it seemed to be working. He felt a slight pulse beneath the surface¡ªalmost like the wall was hiding something. But just as he thought he was getting somewhere, the ether backfired, making his brain feel like it had been dunked in cold water.

    His vision blurred, and he stumbled.

    "Okay... note to self: this scanning thing is harder than it looks."

    Determined not to let the wall win, Judge took a deep breath and gave it one more go. This time, he concentrated, pushing the ether just right, like adjusting the volume on an old radio. Slowly, the wall seemed to reveal itself to him. There was something behind it. Something big.

    "I knew it," he grinned, feeling victorious. "It''s always the third try."

    With newfound confidence, he decided that maybe breaking the wall wasn''t such a bad idea after all. He stepped back and, using just a little bit of force (okay, maybe more than a little), shattered the wall with a burst of raw strength. Dust filled the air, and when it settled, Judge found himself staring into... a room.

    It wasn''t just any room. It was a full-blown steampunk office, complete with gears on the walls, pipes running across the ceiling, and stacks of paper everywhere, it''s just that the place seemed old¡ªvery old. The room looked like it belonged to someone who had either invented every gadget in the world or had severe hoarding issues.

    "Huh, not bad," Judge muttered, stepping inside. He immediately noticed that most of the papers were covered in wild scribbles. They looked important¡ªprobably notes from some genius researcher¡ªbut to Judge, it might as well have been the ramblings of a sleep-deprived toddler.

    "Let''s see if there''s anything useful here." He activated his new scanning ethercraft, determined to be more precise this time. The problem was, he had to focus a lot harder, and each second felt like his brain was being squeezed like a sponge.

    By the time he finished scanning the room, Judge was light-headed, his vision swimming. "So much for my theory of infinite Psyche while in the clone," he groaned, realizing that even his backup body had limits, because the soul moving the body was still his. "Good job, genius."

    Still, his efforts weren''t wasted. His scan revealed a suspiciously hidden compartment in the wall. Judge approached it, using a bit of force to force it open, and inside, he found a box.

    The box was small, and unremarkable. It looked like the kind of thing you''d find at the bottom of someone''s sock drawer, but Judge knew better. He opened it and found a pouch inside, filled with twenty-five small blue stones.

    He stared at the stones, unsure what they were. "Well, they look important... but I have no idea what they do."

    He shrugged and sent the stones into his Studio, where they''d be safe in his personal inventory. Better to store first, ask questions later.

    But that wasn''t all. As he rummaged through the box, Judge pulled out something else¡ªa book. At first glance, it looked boring. It had a plain cover, no title, nothing flashy. Just a regular, inconspicuous book. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge flipped it open, and immedietly realized that it just half, or more. This one seemed like the latter half. "No wonder it had a plain cover and no title! I was looking at it from the back side." Eyebrows raised, he looked through the book. "And what secrets do you hold?" he muttered to himself, ready to uncover the next piece of the puzzle.

 Chapter 14 - 14: Disclaimer! This is NOT a Funny chapter

    Judge started to read the dairy from where it was torn, He was about to be dumbfounded after seeing the dairy being written in English. But his brain took a while to register the error. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Day 1227:

    I have torn off the part when I was still in the capital, after all, my work cannot be wasted if I were to die after going to the forest, so I just hinted that I would head to Devfronds. The place should be perfect for research. We are packing up, Mina still won''t show me what she was researching on, but I am sure she would once she completes it.

    Day 1228:

    We have started our travels. Mina seems enthusiastic that she could go out after a long time. Her laugh just makes my day. I think Derebeth is getting too close to her. I would be happy if they loved each other, after all, I am confident that Derebeth would protect her. I would be proud as her father.

    But she seems a bit gloomy these days, I wonder why.

    ...

    Day 1231:

    The whole party entered Tross, the town just outside of Devfronds. The guards have warned us not to go too deep into the forest, as it won''t be easy to come out. I agree with them since I can''t put the whole party in danger. But Lyra says it would be fine even if we went inside, why is she so enthusiastic? Rey said something had come up with the dragons, so he left to check on them.

    Judge blinked. Then blinked again. The diary was written in two languages, one he did not know. The other one¡ª

    "Wait... hold up. Is this... English?!" His brain went into an overclock. "How... why...

    I''m in another world, reading a journal, and it''s in English? The same language I spoke in my past life? The very same one I used to order pizza at 3 AM and write angry emails to customer service?"

    His eyes scanned the page like a detective in a crime show trying to piece together a clue. "Okay, let''s not freak out here. Maybe I''m overthinking this... but seriously, why is this thing in English?"

    He leaned back, holding the journal at arm''s length, squinting at it. "Did the deity of stories just hand me this and say, ''Here you go, Judge, a little familiar language for your convenience. Have fun!''" He chuckled with an unhappy face, shaking his head. "Yeah, ''fun'' is the word here, right? How many stories have you read with this exact plotline?"

    He shook his head, his thoughts racing. "Wait, does that mean English existed in this world before? Or maybe the person who wrote this was from my world, too! Or... maybe it''s just magic. Yeah, magic.

    Classic magic answer. Just chalk it up to ether and call it a day."

    Still, a part of him couldn''t help but laugh. "Of course. I die, get sent to a new world, and instead of struggling to learn a new language, I stumble upon a journal written in perfect English. This world has jokes. Good one, but the plot is too overused."

    But still, he decided to read the rest¡ª

    Day 1248:

    Mina''s disease is acting up, and Lyra is missing, she isn''t picking up any signals. Rey was the only person who could treat her but Lyra was the only person who could call him. Derbeth had called in a priest, but things are looking bleak. She got the disease after starting that research of hers, she still wouldn''t tell me what it is, I hope she opens up to me soon.

    ...

    Day 1250:

    Mina is crying and thrashing in pain, I can''t watch it anymore, this pain in my heart, it hurts so much. I can''t watch her die. I should focus on my research to distract myself from this aching feeling. I heard the dragons have begun to destroy many parts of the continent, was this why Rey and Lyra left?

    ...

    Day 1256:

    Mina is dead, I don''t want to live anymore. But I have to complete my research, but how do I do it with a heart that aches so much? There is still no news from Rey and Lyra, and Derebeth have not been seen after her death. Maybe I should have talked to her before she passed, I regret not speaking to her, but that was my choice, so I can''t regret.

    ...

    Day 1260:

    I succeeded in erasing the pain, I have no more emotions, and my heart aches no more, why did they ban an ethercraft that was this good? It makes me wonder why I cried so much while Mina was dying. Now I can solely focus on my research.

    ...

    Day 1271:

    I have made it deep into the forest, the artifact with dimensional storage was said to eat slowly at your life. But I don''t need that much lifespan to complete my research, I can die after I complete it. I should start by creating a bunker. The monsters were not such a threat after the dragon''s rage.

    ...

    Day 1279:

    The bunker took more than a week to build, ether was convenient in many ways. Now I don''t have much time to spare, my years-long research should come to an end at least this time. I can feel the answer getting closer and closer.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, the rest of the contents were written only in English, and the neat handwriting was gone. It was giving him a horror movie vibe.

    Day 1280:

    I have made a huge discovery, the ethercraft of nothing should have made something disappear. But ether sure is a wonder, it comes to replace the place of nothing with ''something'', most probably air.

    Judge sighed, "What was this guy rambling on about, nothing and something, Haa! he has truly gone mad."

    Day 1281:

    I knew it, I created an artificial ether well, although it is small I think I may crack the code for using unlimited ether. I am so close, I need to finish my research as soon as possible.

    Day 1282:

    I coughed up some blood and I think I am nearing my time, I need to finish this fast.

    Yes! This is it, If I create a space of nothing, ether should go inside the space to recreate it, and I can continuously absorb it if I use this principle, since the ether I exude when I use ethercraft is returned to the world, and there is no shortage of ether whatsoever.

    Day 1283:

    I decided to experiment some more, And I finally found a perfect name for the ethercraft¡ª''Nihility'', which means the art of nothingness.

    Day 1284:

    This pain in my heart, why is it returning... Mina, my dear, I am sorry. I should''ve taken more care of you, why did you have to leave before me? You were the most talented researcher I''ve ever seen. Why did you have to go? I wish I could''ve heard your last words.

    ...

    Day 1290:

    I can feel it deep in my bones¡ªthe end, it''s closing in on me like a storm I can''t outrun. My body aches with each passing time, and my heart¡­ it''s heavy with all the things I should''ve done, the words I never spoke, the paths I was too scared to take. Regret? Yes, I''ve carried it with me, like a shadow that never left my side.

    But even now, as I face this final chapter, there is one thing I know: I do not regret the choices I made. Each mistake, each stumble, every wrong turn¡ªthey were mine. They were the moments that shaped me, that carved out my story in this vast, unforgiving world.

    And to you, whoever you are, reading these last words of mine¡ªplease, I beg you, don''t let regret consume you. Don''t let it gnaw at your soul, don''t let it steal the life still ahead of you. Every choice you make, no matter how heavy, no matter how wrong it might seem in hindsight¡ªlearn to hold it close, to let it breathe inside of you.

    Because these choices, these scars, they are what make you whole. They are your past that make you who you are. Embrace them, even if they burn. Live, even when it hurts.

    Think of the past as a valuable teacher. Learn from it, but don''t dwell on it. Use its lessons to guide you forward instead of letting it take up time and energy that could be better spent in the present.

    And for reading this far, I give you the principle of "Nihility, the art of nothing."

    -by Researcher Victor

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge closed the diary, feeling a heaviness settle over him. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. "Man... what a sad life. I mean, on one hand, this guy was brilliant. On the other hand, he lost everything and tried to cope by turning off his emotions.

    But in the end, he still felt the pain." He looked up with a sad face, "And that pain is also what makes us human... Victor."

    He shook his head. "If there''s one lesson here, it''s that ethercraft doesn''t fix everything. But hey, at least he cracked the code on ''nothingness'' before he went out." He was back to his normal, sarcastic self.

 Chapter 15 - 15: A casual stroll in the woods, with monsters as side characters

    Judge put away the diary of Victor, the slightly unhinged researcher. In his Studio, the contents were now secure. He couldn''t shake the feeling that if anyone else got their hands on it, he''d be missing out on... well, madness, probably. But still, it had value. Not to mention, it was almost 3:00 in the morning.

    With a heavy sigh, Judge returned to the Studio, switched places with his real body, and was back in his baby crib. "Ahhh, finally... That was one long day." He flopped down, pulling the tiny blanket over himself like it was a king''s robe. "I deserve a solid sleep after two entire days (nights) of...

    being in the forest." He thought of the diary mentioning about dragon''s destroying the continent, he was curious because his family represented the dragons, but there was no answer.

    Within seconds, he fell into the deepest sleep he''d had in¡ªwell, two damn days, give or take.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, Hawthorne was not having a good day, he had traveled all the way to Tross from the capital. His mission would need a thorough searching, but the forest was big. He gave himself a week to search ¡ªnothing¡ª before cutting his losses and leaving.

    He exited the gates of Tross and headed straight into the ominous forest of Devfronds. His black long coat billowed behind him, giving him that dramatic look he''d perfected over the years.

    And while his waistcoat glistened in the moonlight, what really caught the eye was the sleek armor underneath. Shining like new but worn like an old friend, it had seen its fair share of battles. A long sword without much width was hanging from his waist. An underarm holster held two handguns, perfectly polished.

    There was a handbag on the waist at the back, it must likely hold the bullets for the guns.

    All of his attires were telling, "I''m mysterious, rich, and powerful!". Not that Hawthorne cared about showing off. This wasn''t a stroll; this was a mission. So he had to take measures to ensure his safety. Even at the cost of being too mysterious.

    He ventured deeper into the forest, the eerie stillness interrupted by the occasional rustle. It wasn''t long before his peace was shattered by a low growl. Emerging from the shadows, a lower monster¡ªsomething vaguely resembling a big, angry badger¡ªblocked his path. It had the nerve to jump out like it was an encounter from Pokemon.

    Without hesitation, Hawthorne''s hand flew to the hilt of his sword. A swift, clean motion, and the beast was down before it could even register the sharp gust of wind that sliced through the air, it was a merciful and painless death. "Honestly, you''d think they''d know by now," he muttered, flicking his sword to rid it of any stray blood. Staining the wood and bushes red.

    He sheathed his sword and continued his march into the woods, He had a long way to go, he wondered how could a researcher get so deep into the woods. Even though going deep into the woods wasn''t mentioned in the diary, he had the skill to determine someone''s approximate location when he had something or someone close to them. The wind spirits were his friends.

    Hours and much more monsters later, deeper into the heart of Devfronds, the threats became more serious. A menacing presence loomed ahead¡ªmore than just another simple monster. Hawthorne''s steps slowed, and his senses heightened.

    It was time for real combat. He poised to strike, his sword at the ready.

    From the shadows emerged a pack of ferocious beasts, their sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. These weren''t your run-of-the-mill creatures. These were high-level monsters, the kind that you didn''t just stroll past on a midnight walk. They were classified as High Predators, one step closer to cataclysm-level monsters.

    The rankings for monsters were simple but effective:

    Menaces: The lowest threat level, often pests or nuisances. They might cause trouble, but they''re not typically lethal unless in large numbers or under unusual circumstances.

    Predators: Dangerous creatures that actively hunt and pose a significant threat. Skilled fighters, need caution when facing them, but they''re manageable with proper preparation and skill.

    Cataclysms: Extremely dangerous monsters that can wipe out small towns or villages. They often require groups of highly skilled individuals or battalions to bring down, posing a serious threat to entire regions.

    Catastrophes:The highest rank, representing world-altering threats. These monsters are capable of destroying entire cities or larger, and they''re almost impossible to defeat without massive coordinated efforts, typically requiring powerful and legendary fighters or divine intervention, which rarely happens.

    And all of these, except catastrophes and cataclysms, were again sorted into three¡ªlow, mid, and high.

    Hawthorne grinned, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. Embedded in its pommel was a crystal¡ªa catalyst¡ªa tool that stored ether from the environment, allowing him to fight longer without draining his own ether reserves. Catalysts were like a lifeblood to a mage when they were fighting. Without catalysts, mages would quickly burn through their own ether reserves.

    The air around him began to stir. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind sliced through the first beast, its body crumpling to the ground in an instant. The rest of the pack hesitated, making them be on their guard, now very careful of him. They growled and roared at him.

    Hawthorne advanced toward the others, his movements fast and calculated, like a true hunter. The wind swirled around him, sharp and deadly, but there was something else too. A faint crackle.

    Lightning flickered in the air, bolting between gusts of wind. As Hawthorne stepped forward, the air in front of him grew thick¡ªso thick, in fact, that his feet landed on nothing but condensed air. With each step, he walked higher, as if on invisible stairs. He moved like a predator of his own, walking on nothing as the monsters beneath him flailed in confusion.

    He was unmistakably a veteran in fighting.

    Another beast lunged at him, but before it could reach him, a bolt of electricity shot from his blade, zapping the creature in midair. It collapsed with a thud, its fur singed and smoking.

    The remaining beasts hesitated, unsure of whether to attack or flee. Their pride and thirst for revenge for their fallen comrades looming around the air. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Come on," Hawthorne taunted, his voice echoing in the wind. "You wanted this, right?"

    With a final, sweeping motion, he conjured a gale strong enough to send the last of the beasts flying back into the darkness from which they had come. Sharp air twisting and shredding them, sending blood everywhere as they were blasted back.

    Breathing heavily, Hawthorne lowered his sword. The fights till now had drained his catalyst, with almost about a quarter left, and he did not want to fight with the small amount of ether that was left in the catalyst, he knew about the danger the forest possessed, even with the all the ether he possessed, there was still a chance that he could die.

    The catalyst in his sword always absorbed some of the surrounding ether, but not enough to keep up with his relentless attacks. Most catalysts were self-sustainable that way, but the cheap ones were usually one-time use.

    He leaned against a tree, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Alright, that was¡­ fun," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. His body was exhausted, and even with the help of the catalyst, he knew he''d pushed himself too far, since he had been fighting all day.

    Suddenly, a loud screech pierced through the night, so sharp it made the very trees tremble. Hawthorne''s head snapped up toward the sky. He knew that sound.

    A giant, monstrous bird¡ªone that could only be described as a Sky Talon, he was sure that was its name, a Catastrophe-level creature¡ªwas soaring above him. Its enormous wings cast shadows over the trees, and its screech sent shivers down his spine. The blue moonlight making the creature even more magnificent.

    Hawthorne''s eyes narrowed as he watched it fly away. That screech wasn''t one of victory; it was a scream of retreat. And if a beast of that caliber was fleeing, it could only mean one thing: something¡ªor someone, had scared it off. Who or what kind of monster was capable of doing such a feat?

    His hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but he hesitated. His ether was low, and even with a catalyst, he couldn''t take on whatever had spooked the Sky Talon in his current state.

    "Damn," he muttered under his breath, eyes still locked on the retreating figure of the bird. "I hate taking breaks when things get interesting."

    With a sigh, he climbed up a huge tree. Hiding his presence, he leaned back against the tree, forcing himself to relax. He''d investigate the cause of the bird''s retreat¡ªbut first, he needed to recover. Whatever scared off a Catastrophe-level beast was not something to face when running on empty ether reserve.

    He closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing his body to rest. "Alright, alright. Rest now, investigate later. Just... don''t get eaten in your sleep, Hawthorne."

    He had reached the proximity of his location, All he needed now was to search the area thoroughly. He glanced at a waterfall a little further away, that was where the bird flew up from, "I should look above the waterfall tomorrow, let''s look below the next day." He slowly slipped into sleep, still his guard up.

 Chapter 16 - 16: Lost in Translation: Dragon Lesson Edition

    Baby Judge was back in his mother''s arms as they walked into his parent stealer''s lesson room. But something was different today. Instead of the cute blonde elf Melina, there stood a man. And this guy definitely wasn''t family¡ªhe had horns and sharp ears, like he was trying way too hard to look cool.

    Also, he had a sword strapped to his waist and wore a long yellow coat that went down to his legs. The moment he saw Eleyn, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and bowed. Judge couldn''t understand a word the guy said. No subtitles, nothing. It was like being an anime fan in Japan, assuming everyone would magically speak in subtitles.

    "Please continue with the lessons, Mister Dosav," his mother said, Judge could now understand the language a lot better. "... Today... Lesson... Dragon Form" he only caught a few words, but one of them was "Dragon" and another was "form." That was all he needed to hear. Every last brain cell in his baby-sized head snapped to attention.

    Dragon form?!

    Dosav, the horned guy, launched into a lesson about transforming. Atleast that''s what Judge thought. He drew a diagram in the air using ether¡ªjust some glowing shapes that probably meant something deep. Dosav''s words floated around Judge''s head, most of them useless, but a few clicked. Dragons... True form¡­ tough bodies¡­ more ether¡­ more psyche¡­ far stronger than any other race.

    Okay, so dragons were basically walking tanks with magic overloads. Got it. Apparently, when they shifted into their dragon form, their bodies became incredibly tough, like trying to dent a castle wall with a spoon. Plus, they had so much ether and psyche that it was like they were born with cheat codes.

    But, as far as he understood, the transformation had risks. Not everyone could control it, and some could lose themselves to the dragon''s instincts and become a monster, if they over-exert their psyche and ether. He only pieced this information from the bits and pieces of the other guy (Dosav).

    So this theory of his was not reliable, but it was still good to keep in mind. "Great", Judge thought, "so it''s like puberty, but with claws and fire-breathing." He mentally noted it was probably better to wait before trying any dragon stunts himself, he understood almost nothing from today''s lesson.

    The lesson wrapped up, and Eleyn decided it was time for a change of scenery. She carried Judge around the mansion and finally to the training grounds, where his siblings were now practicing with swords. And wow, were they good? His brother and sister moved like they were born with blades in hand.

    Each swing of their swords was so fast and precise that it looked like a dance. They weren''t just fighting; they were showing off, and it was awesome. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge''s jaw practically hit the floor¡ªor, well, it would''ve if he weren''t still a baby. But inside, his admiration was off the charts. He could already imagine himself doing the same, someday. "Swords, dragon transformations, what''s next? Flying tanks?" He was genuinely questioning the worldbuilding.

    He found a newfound respect for his siblings, but he still did not trust them, "Maybe add them as my underlings when conquering the world?" He thought.

    By the time night rolled around, it was back to business. He switched with his adult clone in the Studio and reentered the forest. But this time, something was off. He could feel it¡ªthe presence of someone else in the room. "Oh great, just when I thought I could relax."

    His clone touched the rock wall and cautiously scanned the area. "Who''s intruding on my villain arc?" Judge muttered, scanning the room like a detective on a case. He wasn''t thrilled about this new twist.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Hawthorne finally found a place that could supposedly be the office of the ether researcher. He activated his search ability and searched every nook and cranny like a cat trying to find its toy.

    All he found was an empty box that he was sure held the dairy. He was suspicious when he found out the rock smashed inwards instead of cracking the locking mechanism that was there present. Someone has intruded the place, probably not many weeks have passed since the intrusion. Since there was no sign of ether, many days probably have passed.

    His mind raced towards the time when the Sky Talon was retreating, such a scary existence could break the hard stones without using ether. Did someone overhear them? Not probably since he never felt any presence.

    While lost in his thoughts, an unopened letter caught his eye, it was sold old but the fragrance still hadn''t faded. "It''s probably worth something," He said as he took it.

    He tore it open since nobody carries around a letter opener when on a hike to a dangerous forest that could kill you anytime. He took the letter out and was instantly hit with a strong fragrance. It was strong, but it was a soothing fragrance that made his body warm and put him at ease.

    It was so soothing, he could almost hear a soundtrack of harps playing in the background. All of his anger and sadness faded in an instant, the receiver must be very special to the sender if they send a letter using such powerful and unknown ethercrafts.

    He opened it and began to read¡ª

    Dear Dad,

    To the man who was always my guiding light, I write this with a heavy heart, knowing that my time is almost up. It breaks my heart to tell you this, but Rey and Lyra... they''re gone. Betrayed by those they trusted. It feels so unreal, doesn''t it? And Derebeth, he''s making that sad face again, I wish to do something to make him smile again, I wanted to see it one more time.

    Dad, I''ve kept something from you. I was researching eternal life, hoping to protect the ones I love, but it''s that very research that''s taken me away from you. It''s my fault, I know. I thought I was doing something important, but all I did was lose everything.

    Dad... I love you so much. I should have told you that more. I don''t think I said it enough while I had the chance. You were my light, my hero, my everything. You taught me how to be strong, how to never give up, and how to be patient when the world was against me.

    You showed me the wonders of ethercraft, but more than that, you showed me what it means to truly live.

    Please, Dad, don''t be disheartened when I''m gone. I want you to know that I''m leaving this world at peace, even though my heart aches at the thought of not seeing you again. If I could live another life, I would choose you as my father every single time. You gave me a life without regrets, and because of you, I can face death without any fear or regret.

    Thank you, Dad, for always being there, for always loving me, even when I didn''t say it enough. I wish I could hold you one last time, but know that I''ll be with you in spirit, always.

    And one last time, Dad, I really love you, please be at peace.

    -Your daughter, Mina.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The contents were quite emotional, but not for Hawthorne. What caught His eye was two words¡ª ''Eternal life''. He had heard it before. But he couldn''t dwell on it, since he could feel an extraordinary presence¡ªsomeone was outside the room.

    The person outside wasn''t coming in, just waiting... like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. And Hawthorne? Yeah, he was the mouse.

    But why was the person not coming in? The presence could kill him in an instant. He wanted to check, but his body was screaming at him to find an exit and escape. There was no way that he could beat the person, whoever it was.

    He decided to go towards the waiting presence, since he could never outrun it, even just walking took a lot out of him. He wanted to run but he couldn''t because even walking was an epic quest for him.

    He reached the small ether well outside, and there it was, a person wearing a white mask with a creepy smiling face, his dress was unfamiliar, but the style was familiar. He didn''t know what to think of the coat¡ªit looked... more modern?

    "Oh, who might you be?" The man asked, his voice was rich, deep, and commanding. "I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!."

    "I don''t know who you are but I don''t think that place belonged to you." Hawthorne tried to act brave. But he could barely stand up, he still did.

    "Use translation you weakling, I am not familiar with the tongue of you lesser beings." The man said in a serious tone, each word of his making Hawthorne feel the pressure. This being was definitely something very powerfull.

    Hawthorne used to be one of the strongest mercenaries out there, but an accident made him weaker, while he was still one of the strongest in ranks, he was now ranked among the lower ones of the strongest.

    But he could still put up a fight with anyone, It was not like him to not being able to fight under someone''s pressure, their will.

    He understood one thing, this person is really dangerous and not to be messed with. But his pride did not allow him to falter, he tried to stand up properly and started talking using translate.

 Chapter 17 - 17: Villain rule No 1: When in Doubt, Pretend You Know What Youâ€™re Doing

    Judge sensed someone in Victor''s office. Run back to the Studio like it was Black Friday and everything was 90% off. But then, suddenly, an imaginary light bulb (the brightest ever, obviously) flickered on above his head. He had on his usual white, smiley mask, but now, in a stroke of genius, he realized his outfit¡ªa full suit and tie¡ªwas next-level mysterious.

    He felt like he had just leveled up his villain game. Forget fashion trends; the world he was in hadn''t even invented suits yet. That made him, by default, the most mysterious and fashion-forward villain around.

    He stood there, thinking, "I probably look terrifying right now." He thought. "What screams ''strong villain'' more than a masked man with a suit no one understands, lurking in a monster-infested forest?" The answer was nothing. He was sure of it. Not the researcher''s nothing, but the actual nothing.

    His next move was obvious: scare the living daylights out of the guy inside by dragging him into the Studio. First underling? Check. Finally getting someone to sign one of those snazzy, borderline-evil scriptwriter contracts he''s been itching to use? Double-check. Get the guy to sign it, throw in some fine print, then sit back and watch the chaos unfold. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The mask and suit added extra villain points. Obviously.

    So, Judge prepared to make his grand entrance. He was going to make an entrance so dramatic it would be talked about for generations. Something along the lines of, "Express your will..." Yeah, that''s what Miss Melina said. A person''s ''will'' was like their swaggering, soul-crushing aura, some say it is like a monarch''s presence.

    If intense enough, weaklings would be groveling at your feet. Heck, if you really overdid it, you could squish them like a bug (if they are that weak obviously). You know, just in case a dramatic entrance wasn''t enough.

    And hey, dragons have to be the best at this, right? Being the strongest race in existence, surely his will would be¡­ at least mildly terrifying? He closed his eyes, ready to feel that overpowering dragon presence. He focused on his mind, his soul, his inner dragon magic...

    And¡­ nothing. Absolutely nothing.

    What? Did you think he''d suddenly unlock his ultimate power just because the plot demanded it? Pfft. Mid-level power-ups don''t work like that! Judge was focusing so hard on summoning his presence that he could practically hear the deity of stories laughing her divine head off in the distance, probably rolling on some celestial floor, thoroughly enjoying his failure.

    "Of course, she''d find this hilarious," Judge muttered, shaking his head. "Can''t wait to add her to my hit list." (Although, if we''re being honest, she was only not on the list because she had helped him out before. But still.)

    Still, unbeknownst to Judge, his presence was already making waves¡ªliterally. Turns out, since he didn''t have a body, he was always radiating this intimidating aura like some kind of supernatural Wi-Fi signal, and his poor clone, stuck doing all the dirty work, couldn''t dial it down. So, while he was standing there trying to force out this ''scary villain debut'' moment, he had already succeeded.

    That was one reason the Sky Talon did not attack him with much stronger attacks, it was just beware of the existence in front of it.

    Hawthorne, inside, was struggling. Not just struggling¡ªgasping for air as if someone had thrown him into an invisible chokehold. His knees were buckling, his vision was blurring, and all he could think was, "Who is this demon in a fancy suit, and why does he want to kill me with just his existence?" (For the record, that''s not what he actually thought.)

    Meanwhile, Judge, still blissfully unaware that his mere presence was doing all the work, was mentally preparing his villain speech. "Okay, gotta sound cool. Don''t be too dramatic, but just dramatic enough. Maybe something like, ''So, you''ve found yourself at the mercy of a power far beyond your comprehension¡­'' No, too clich¨¦.

    ''Ah, I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!'' No, that sounds like I''m auditioning for a theater role."

    "Oh, who might you be?" He polished his voice and talked in a deep, rich, and commanding tone. "I see you''ve wandered into my domain, mortal!" Nailed it. The guy practically fell to his knees. Judge thought, "Wow, my speech really did the trick!"¡ªcompletely ignoring the fact that it was his unintentional presence aura causing the reaction.

    The man said something in a foreign tongue. But Judge being him, did not understand it. He thought of what to say next, "Ugh, what now?" Judge groaned internally. But he couldn''t break character. In his best ''villain trying too hard'' voice, he commanded, "Use translation, you weakling! I am not familiar with the tongue of you lesser beings!" perfect...

    or maybe not.

    Why did I say it like that? Judge instantly regretted the line. Why did he sound like a bad community theater actor? He was ashamed of himself, he wanted to cover his face and hide behind a wall, and his face was already covered. The man was trying his hard to get up, did his embarrassing act fail to keep up his villain image? Judge was ready to transport both of them to his Studio.

    "I am Hawthorne. Who are you?" Hawthorne Said in a demanding tone. His voice faltering.

    "I am..." Judge held up both his hands in a T-pose. He transferred both of them into the Studio. That was the cherry on top. Man! he thought, that was perfect. down to the last drop.

    Immediately after reaching the studio, he covered his real body with fog, making Hawthorne unable to see the face of the original. "I am just an underling of his majesty." he finished his grand show.

    Hawthorne was bewildered. There were a few known principles for teleporting, all of them took a few moments before teleporting, but this was instantaneous. Even the known principles had its flaws, either they require a huge amount of psyche due to the complexity of principle, or they require a huge amount of ether due to the principle literally trying to fold space.

    And if this guy, the one who did instant teleportation, was just the underling, what kind of terrifying boss did he serve? His mind was racing with questions.

    After telling what he had to say, he sat on a high backrest chair near the long marble table that he created on the first day in the studio. He the chair created by adding in some smoke for some effects. He bowed to his real self before sitting and transferring his soul back.

    "So!" He started speaking in his original body, "Who might this mortal be." Judge was trying his hard to look more domineering¡ªwell, Hawthorne can''t really see him due to the fog, but still.

    He made an identical mask to that of a cameraman, and put it on. Clearing the fog to reveal his masked, mysterious face. Hawthorne was stunned. What was this? He was somewhat expecting a monster, but instead, he got... this guy?

    Hawthorne was eyeing Clone-Judge to explain why he was here, but the one who spoke was the boss. "So, Tell me Mr. Hawthorne," Judge said, crossing his fingers, "what was your business inside my underling''s personal space?"

    Hawthorne, meanwhile, was contemplating every decision that had led him to this point. He had accepted a suspicious mission to find a diary about nothing and had now he had stepped on a landmine that was judging him to decide whether to explode or let him live.

 Chapter 18 - 18: When In Doubt, Add More Dramatic Pauses

    Judge could feel the tension radiating from Hawthorne, the poor guy practically sweating bullets under his mask of composure. Ah, yes, perfect, Judge thought. This is what villainy is all about, making people squirm without lifting a finger.

    He sat back, crossing his arms, trying to exude a vibe that said I know everything about you, when in fact, he had no clue what Hawthorne was even doing inside the researcher''s office.

    "So, tell me, Mister Hawthorne." Judge was trying too hard to sound domineering. He lowered his voice just enough to sound ominous¡ªwell, he hoped it was ominous and not just like he was about to read bedtime stories. "what was your business inside my underling''s personal space?" He wanted to pat himself on the back for his Theatrical and terrifying performance¡ª10/10 delivery.

    but that would have to wait.

    Hawthorne was definitely frying his brain on how to respond. He was, no doubt, scared of the entity. But his pride won''t allow him to just act as if he is scared.

    Finally, he decided to be humble but not act scared. He held his hat on his chest and gave a slight, polite bow. "I was just searching for a diary, sorry if I intruded upon the place of your servant." Hawthorn stayed in the bowing position without anyone talking, like he was waiting for a royal knighting, but mostly just trying not to tremble.

    He could feel that he was being observed by the person on the throne, but he did not dare to raise his head.

    Judge was contemplating on what to say to the person in front of him. If he wanted to a person to do as he wanted, he needed to know more of the person. And the information was exactly what he lacked. So he needed to know more about Hawthorne, but how?

    He thought a bit and a lightbulb flickered in his mind. Of course! Play it cool, ask the right questions, and pretend like you''ve known what''s going on the whole time! He prepared to take it up a notch in his villainous performance.

    He cleared his throat and decided to ask him in a commanding tone. The tone that had the best possibility of success. "I am curious," Judge said, his acting was commendable. Years of grinding trying to take control of the cooperate industries required a good grasp of many things. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Why were you searching for a diary," He paused for dramatic effect, mentally congratulating himself on the perfectly timed silence. Then he smirked¡ªwell, he imagined smirking, because the mask was doing all the work. "Did you, perhaps, find parts of Victor''s torn diary...?"

    He let the silence build again, this time turning the tension meter all the way up. The tension in the air was so thick that it could have been sliced with a butter knife. Hawthorne looked up slightly, clearly surprised, his eyes wide, as Judge leaned in for the kicker.

    "A diary," Judge said slowly, making sure every word reached his ears, "about... nothing?"

    Just as he had expected, Hawthorne stood there, paralyzed. He was like a low-end CPU that was trying hard to process a huge load of information and lagging the system. Ok! I this, if I just push this a little more. He was about to speak, but Hawthorne spoke in a dazed manner.

    "Who are you?" Hawthorn asked the first question that came to his mind. He was also wondering why the servant never spoke a single word all this time, but he had greater issues to think about.

    Judge, of course, had been waiting for this moment. Oh, yes, the perfect setup. He straightened up dramatically, making sure the invisible spotlight was on him. "Oh me?" he began, pausing for maximum effect. "I am the narrator of untold stories." He threw in a dramatic hand gesture, the kind you''d see in a theater production right before the villain breaks into a monologue.

    "Call me..." A dramatic pause (again), this time really dragging it out for the weight, "...The Cameraman."

    There it was. Perfection. He could practically hear the applause in his head. If there was an award for most theatrical villain reveals, he''d be giving the acceptance speech right about now.

    He did not stop there, he needed to make himself appear more powerful. Theatrics were just the beginning. He snapped his fingers and, in an instant, transported Hawthorne to a chair opposite his clone. The table appeared, and the chair was, of course, grand and intimidating¡ªjust like a proper villain''s chair should be. "Please take a seat."

    Haw was still skeptical about the whole scene, but he still sat down because he still had his survival instincts active. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, but he wasn''t about to let his guard down.

    "Now! Answer me, why were you seeking the diary?"

    Hawthorne, still holding on to what remained of his self-esteem, sat up straight. He started to answer honestly, but he also wasn''t stupid. "I was commissioned by someone who found the diary," he admitted. "I don''t know the specifics, just that it contains information about an ethercraft related to nothing."

    Judge acted as if he was thinking for a bit, but he had already thought of what to say next. "I see," Judge said, giving Hawthorn an illusion of deep consideration. Then, with a slow nod, he dropped the bait. "I shall give you the diary... but what would you give me in return?"

    Hawthorne blinked. He''d expected some grand demand, not this vague, open-ended question. "Please do tell me what you need," he said cautiously. "I cannot possibly know what someone of your existence would require."

    Judge laughed and created a white mask identical to the one he was wearing. "Join ''The recorders''. " He had laid out the base, now, all he needed was for the pray to take the bait and fall into his trap.

    "What is the recorders?" Hawthorne Took the bait. Judge smiled creepily under his mask, the creepiest smile a villain can give, and the creepy mask he was wearing was not as creepy as his current illegal face.

 Chapter 19 - 19: The Art of Pretending You Have Everything Under Control

    Judge was always a mastermind behind the curtain in his previous life, which partially contributed to his trust being given only to Seo Jun. But that fragile trust was now broken because of a bottle of warm and tasty wine, and his trust was now solely being carried by his mother and father.

    As for Hawthorne? "What on earth do I do with this guy?" He still did not know enough of Hawthorn to determine a surefire way to make him his underling. But he knew enough to form a solid plan. His current hypothesis about Hawthorn was that he was a mercenary, and a good one at that¡ªjust one with a bit too much self-esteem for his own good.

    Hawthorne, meanwhile, was grilling his brain like a poorly supervised barbecue. "What is ''the recorders''?" he asked, obliviously walking right into Judge''s trap.

    Bingo. The exact question Judge had been waiting for.

    "We are a group of beings that record stories of the world," Judge explained dramatically, and proceeded to summon a scriptwriter contract in front of Hawthorne, because that was the most appropriate time to send a contract.

    Hawthorne, for his part, was busy melting his mental circuits trying to figure out how Judge kept summoning stuff like chairs and papers out of thin air. Was it teleportation? Magic? Really elaborate sleight of hand?

    "I will give you an offer." Judge declared, starting to descend the absurdly long staircase. why did I make them stairs so long, "If you work as a recorder, I shall provide you with power." Judge knew Hawthorne''s type¡ªa guy with an inferiority complex so large it could have its own postal code. Naturally, he was hungry for strength.

    Hawthorne was still uncertain, the guy had an ego the size of a small continent. He never wished to serve under someone, but the intimidating presence of The cameraman, who was now near him, was pressing him to sign the contract. He never felt the will of Cameraman''s servant, that was only his current relief.

    If he was honest, he was a little convinced by the ''I shall provide you with power'' part. He had his unending pride, but working under someone''s command wasn''t his style. If anything, he was more the "make others work for me" kind of guy.

    Judge knew really well about people with pride, so he quickly needed to crush his pride before he started overthinking. "Of course, it is entirely up to you, I will not be forcing anyone, but do note that I don''t have the time for weaklings like you a second time."

    Cue an internal evil laugh.

    Judge was clear on what he intended, he would not give any second chances. Now all that was left was for Hawthorn to agree.

    Hawthorn took the stack of papers on the table, hoping to have some kind of answers. But as soon as he touched the stack, all but one appeared. It was a blank paper, confusing Hawthorne on the paper''s purpose. But before he could start panicking, black ink began to materialize on the paper, as if someone were writing with an invisible pen.

    Wasting no time, Hawthorne began to read it. Surprisingly, he could read the words even though they were really small.

    Soon, his face went from curious all the way to terrified. The contents written in the paper were his own information in detail.

    Hawthorne, 34, Gold-ranked mercenary, single.

    Currently lives in the capital city of Redera, street...

    Previously resided places were... Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The scare he got from the paper was not enough to convince him. "What kind of life will I have after I work under you, is there something like a contract?" He was used to having a more clear contract.

    Judge, now back on his overly dramatic throne, pointed silently at the paper, as if to say "Uh, duh, it''s right there."

    Meanwhile, inside Judge''s mind: Wait, did I even write a contract? No, right? Oh crap, what was he reading?

    Judge was thinking hard, his EC enabled, on what to do, he thought of many plans on what to do with his oversight, he had put his hopes on a skill he had never used before. He decided to do plan B¡ª act as if he knew everything and deal with whatever came next. Making mistakes is a part of the process.

    But it was still embarrassing to call himself a professional at manipulation, it made him wonder just how he had sat on the corporate throne in his previous life.

    Hawthorne proceeded curiously to check if he had missed something in the contract. And surprise, the contents have changed (Judge, in fact, did not know of this). It displayed something else¡ª

    Party 1 - The Cameraman

    Party 2 - Viktor Ravensworth, (Alias - Hawthorne)

    Judge was (genuinely) surprised to see Hawthorne reading the paper again as if he had missed some points. And was even more surprised to find Hawthorne''s pale face, it was as if he had seen a terrifying ghost.

    The man looked like he''d just seen the ghost of every bad decision he''d ever made. The paper had clearly spooked him, but Judge? Judge was even more spooked because he had no idea what was going on either.

    Still, like any good manipulator, he kept quiet and let Hawthorne''s imagination do the heavy lifting, acting as if he had anticipated the outcome.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In a dark prison corridor, there are no spaces to let natural light in, it seems to be underground. A red-haired figure was descending a flight of stairs, slowly, but elegantly. He put down his hood, which was doing a bad job covering his head.

    The face of the figure became clear, it was Judge''s Father. He stopped in front of a wooden ornate door. He motioned the knight near him to keep watch as he entered the room.

    There was another red-haired man inside it. But he was tied up in a chain that exuded deep blue color. His hands and feet were tied together, while there was a collar on his neck that was attached to two deep blue, crystal pillars on the side. On the ground, there was a big circular marking with many runes and patterns, it looked like a ritualistic mark for imprisonment.

    The person who was in chains in the middle of the circle, he was also Judge''s Father.

    "How''s the stay Master Alex Drakonis." The person who just entered the room put his hands on his face, gripped it, and pulled. A mask came off, a white, slimy, and disgusting substance was clinging on the mask and his face like an unhardened glue on two sheets of paper.

    His red hair turned black and his golden eyes turned into a brown one, he had a scar across one of his eyes. He had a creepy smile which, unlike Judge, actually screamed "Villain".

 Chapter 20 - 20: Signing a contract, except you dont know the terms and conditions

    Judge sat silently on his throne, trying to figure out what in the Ether had just happened. Hawthorne had signed the contract so fast it was as if his life depended on it. It was almost like the guy was playing in the finals of a major soccer tournament, staring at Judge as if he''d just pulled off the most miraculous penalty shootout in history. Judge, for once, was genuinely confused.

    Was it the blank paper? The weirdly invasive bio? Did I accidentally summon a jump scare?

    Regardless, he couldn''t let this moment slip by. The show must go on. His acting should never falter, if it did, everything he had built up to the moment will be gone.

    Judge straightened up, the suit adding an extra touch for a dramatic scene¡ªat least, that''s what he hoped it did, because he needed all the spotlight right now. His mask was working overtime to look both mysterious and domineering. With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand. A ripple of dark energy surged through the room, swirling like a magician about to pull off his greatest trick.

    "Now that you''ve signed the contract, you are no longer the man you once were," Judge said, his voice low and commanding. He waved his hand, summoning a mask identical to his own, dark and menacing, floating in midair like it was waiting for a dramatic soundtrack.

    Hawthorne stared at it, eyes wide and unsure if this was part of the initiation or a particularly intense escape room challenge. Hawthorns reaction now was very different from his older, prideful self.

    Judge stood up¡ªoh no, the stairs again¡ªand started to descend, making each step echo as if it were counting down to some epic reveal. He reached the bottom, reached out his hand, and grabbed the mask, holding it high above his head as if it were the holy grail of awkward moments.

    "I hereby bestow upon you this mask," Judge declared with all the gravitas of a theater actor performing Hamlet on opening night. " As long as you are wearing this mask, you shall take on the mantle of¡­" Dramatic pause for effect, a good drumroll would''ve been nice here "¡­Lucifer, the Sin of Pride!"

    There was silence, save for the imaginary dramatic music Judge was playing in his head. The air was heavy with tension¡ªor maybe that was just the awkwardness. Hard to tell.

    Hawthorne blinked. "Lucifer? The Sin of¡­ Pride?" Hawthorn''s reaction was not what Judge had intended, but he decided not to think too much of failures. Not everything goes according to plan.

    "Yes," Judge said, doing his best impression of someone who definitely planned this all along. "Pride is your strength, and now it is also your name. You are Lucifer."

    Hawthorne stood up slowly, his brain still trying to process what was happening. Pride, huh? Well, could be worse. I could''ve been ''Envy'' or something. After his fall from the top, he had been envious of everyone who possessed more power than him, which resulted in his prideful attitude.

    Judge, determined to ride the wave of tension and avoid any awkward derailment, placed the mask into Hawthorne''s hands, as if passing on a sacred relic. "Wear this, and you will be one of the Seven Sins, part of a legacy that shapes the world. Your pride is now your power, your sin...your strength."

    Hawthorne took the mask, looking at it as though it held the secrets to the universe¡ªor at least a really intense game of charades. The weight of it seemed symbolic, though he couldn''t shake the feeling that Judge was enjoying this a bit too much.

    "And now," Judge continued, "we begin your journey as my trusted right hand. Lucifer, Sin of Pride, rise and embrace your new identity." He was feeling super cringey but he decided to go with it. He felt as if it would be a theatrical performance but it seems he was wrong.

    With a dramatic flourish (because of course), Judge waved his arm, and a gust of wind somehow swept through the room, ruffling Hawthorne''s clothes and probably giving him more dramatic flair than he ever thought possible.

    Hawthorne¡ªno, Lucifer now¡ªstood up tall, putting the mask on his face, looking as regal and intimidating as he could, considering he had no idea what he''d just gotten himself into.

    "What shall I call you, oh master whom I serve." His prideful attitude had all gone. Replaced by fear and ( a little bit) respect for the entity in front of him. He knelt in front of Judge, his arms on his knees.

    "You may address me as the Recorder" Judge said, snapping his fingers. A torn dairy appeared in front of (now) Lucifer. Which he took and got up, ready to head back. "May I go back, Master Recorder?"

    "Drop the master part."

    "Recorder"

    "Sir Recorder" Judge corrected him.

    "Yes, Sir Recorder" He bowed again, waiting for Judge to transport him back.

    Judge lifted his hand to snap, "Make sure nobody knows that Hawthorn is Lucifer."

    "Yes, Sir" Hawthorn vanished as Judge snapped his fingers. He let out a sigh, the performance was really tiring. He just teleported back to his throne and sat on it. He still had some time left before teleporting back to his house.

    He decided to go back early to bed, because (Believe it or not) he was still a baby. Studies show that babies take time to grow up. And he needed time before he was all grown up. And his father was still nowhere to be seen. His trust in the capabilities of his father was the only thing that kept him at ease. But did the knight that went with him do something?

    He could only trust his father but not the knight.

    Just as he was about to head back, he saw a blue flash above on the air, he knew who the uninvited guest was, but he did not hate her presence. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 21 - 21: Deity lessons for the mastermind of silly mistakes

    The blue light flashed a woman into existence. She was floating in the air, pushing gravity aside like it was a child throwing a tantrum. Ah yes, magic, thought Judge, the ''hold my drink'' of science in fantasy worlds. I mean, magic can really do wonders.

    The deity of stories slowly descended with the same, warm smile she always had when seeing him. If Judge was honest, he found her presence very welcoming, maybe because she had the same appearance as his mother, but her smile always managed to annoy him somehow. Let''s be real, who likes that constant smile? Ugh. It was like living with a motivational poster that never shuts up.

    "What are you up to now?" He asked in the most annoyed tone possible. While he liked her, his distrust was still stopping him from being the nice guy. Kindness always results in others taking advantage of you, Judge knew that very well, almost too well.

    Trust was the most fragile thing for Judge, and this deity¡ªdespite looking like the world''s sweetest mom¡ªwas on the same level as those shady street vendors who promise the best knockoff magic potions.

    Deity finally descended in front of him, "I just wanted to congratulate you on your first recruit." She clapped her hands together. "I thought I needed to explain more about the skills for you, but you are managing to figure things out."

    "Figure what out?" Judge removed his mask, and he had a doubtful expression on his face. His eyebrows raised like he just heard someone say they preferred pineapple on pizza.

    "Many things, well for starters" She put her index finger on her chin to make a thoughtful expression, "That the contract will only be accepted if you are capable of providing your side of the bargain." She proceeded to summon a box full of popcorn and a throne to sit on. The scene now looked like some weird reality show about an awkward debate between two monarchs.

    Next on ''Real Gods of Fantasy Worlds¡­''

    "You mean I can actually provide him with power?" Judge was as surprised as a kid who found out that Santa Claus wasn''t real. It wasn''t a great day for him either when he found out the truth about presents.

    "Huh!? Fo hiffin fou?!" (Translation: "You didn''t know?!") Her mouth was stuffed with popcorn, and it was at this exact moment Judge started to wonder why he was the one being reborn to do all the serious work. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She was feeling really comfortable with her clumsy personality in front of Judge. Leaving him to wonder just how was the person who came after him as the next cameraman able to speak to her respectfully, maybe she was lying about Judge being the only one disrespectful to her.

    "What do you mean I didn''t know? I was planning to crush his ego completely, that was the only thing between his pride and being my underling. And I never even once thought of giving power."

    The deity swallowed the popcorn. "Well, I must tell you, the only the scriptwriter contract would only work if you are able to provide what you offered. Meaning you can and will, provide Viktor Ravensworth, AKA Hawthorne with the power he needs. The time period isn''t mentioned, so of course, you got a lot of time.

    Judge was the type who hated info dumps, but this had the word IMPORTANT written inside two quotation marks. So obviously this was an important material (well duh!). He didn''t even hear her speak Hawthorne''s real name (Well he heard it but he didn''t actually gave it any importance).

    "So you mean, I will provide him with the power he needs eventually?"

    "Last time I checked, that was exactly what I said." She was starting to piss him off. Judge couldn''t shake the feeling that she was just like a mirror image of him in terms of personality. Maybe she also took on his personality just like she took his mother''s form.

    "So," Judge was trying his hard to ignore her nonchalant attitude, he was having the most important info dump in his life and she was just like as attentive as a toddler in a maths class.

    "Are there any other things you left out?" Judge immediately regretted what he said after seeing the deity''s eyes full of pity.

    "Don''t tell me you don''t know that you can give part of your power to anyone you have had a scriptwriter contract." His surprised face was all she needed to verify that he had, indeed, no idea such a function existed. She gave a sigh mothers give when their children just made them extra work, "Let me guess. You never read the backside of the script."

    "There was a backside?!" Judge was about to have an existential crisis, he felt like a defeated man. Why was he reborn anyway, to see his parents? What would his parents say if they learned that their son was a huge cosmic failure of a man? (Or child, whatever)

    "Haa, that''s why I told you to double check." She put her hand on her head, and gave another deep sigh. "Now LISTEN carefully, I will explain about the skills you chose. I don''t want to explain this again, so don''t make me repeat it."

    "I am all ears."

    "So first, the studio. You create a separate space on your own, everything from manipulating it, to going inside your personal studio requires ether. Another thing about studio is that you can expel anything out of the dimension that you have created inside it, but it requires a whole load of ether."

    Judge thought how he had just teleported his clone outside and also teleported to it, he must have a huge reserve of ether, perks of being a dragon, he thought.

    "Second would be the scriptwriter contract. What it does is that, the people who have already signed the contract will always act according to your script in a given scenario. They won''t even realize they''re doing it¡ªit''s all natural. Not mind control, just¡­ plot manipulation."

    Judge smirked. Okay, so I''m basically a puppet master. Nice. That was the extent of what he knew about the skill and its effects.

    "There is more to it, you can actually share your thoughts, ether, and other powers through the connection between you and the contracted. Meaning you are both linked"

    Judge''s smirk faded. Linked? He hadn''t even considered the possibility of creating a little magical Wi-Fi network with his underlings. Great. More responsibilities.

    "I don''t think there is a need to explain about your Enhanced Cognition, That one was actually written in bold on the front side of the scroll, and it only had one side written"

    "Is that everything?" It was Judge''s first time sitting through an entire load of info dumping.

    "For now." She said as she finished her popcorn, "Aah I forgot to tell one thing."

    "I knew it" Judge sat upright for the next infodumping.

    "Its nothing much, I just really enjoyed your story about a brave man fighting the Sky Talon." She smirked, "You know, the bird you fought." She let out a huge laugh that she couldn''t hold in.

 Chapter 22 - 22: Why Do Dragons Need Swords? Asking for a Terrified Baby

    The deity''s smile was like a warm cup of tea¡ªsoothing, but getting on his nerves at the same time. "Before I go," she began, her tone so nonchalant it felt like she was about to drop another bombshell, "I want you to know that I''ve been helping you understand more about what you''d encounter next. Every day, at that."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Don''t tell me you never found it suspicious that the lessons you got from Melina and Dosav were crucial pieces of information you needed just before the night you went to the forest. And also before making that doll of yours".

    "Aah, so it was you. I did find it suspicious but I just did not think hard about it." He was speaking the truth but he somehow got the feeling that the deity did not believe him.

    Call me Clio from now on," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "And remember, whatever happens next, you can achieve what you desire if you put your heart into it."

    And with that cryptic one-liner, she disappeared in a flash of blue light, leaving Judge staring at the spot where she''d been.

    "Huh?!"

    There was something ominous in her parting words, like a bad fortune cookie. He couldn''t quite put his finger on it, but it left him feeling like he''d forgotten to study for an exam he didn''t know was happening. But he still hoped for the best.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Despite the mountain of info dumped on him that night, Judge was out like a light as soon as he hit the crib. Turns out, even masterminds need their beauty sleep, especially when they''re stuck in baby bodies (remember, he is still a baby). Science says babies sleep more than adults, but honestly, no one tells you how hard it is when your tiny body demands 16 hours of shut-eye.

    Morning came way too soon with the most annoying sunrise he''d ever had, he was really exhausted and it was difficult to wake up, and the sunlight wasn''t making it any easy for his poor toddler muscle build, like the sun was personally offended by how hard Judge was trying to sleep.

    But morning bath maids did not show his weak body any mercy as they scrubbed every nook and cranny, leaving him spotless. Not that he was any dirty before the bath, the whole mansion was as clean as a newly printed dollar, straight out of the treasury.

    Today was a bit different, his bath was finished quickly, and his dressing was done in a haste. Were they running late for a morning flight and had to rush? Do dragons even ride planes?

    But his thoughts were interrupted by his mother who seemed to be in no rush unlike the maids, but her face was full of worry. Must be something related to Dad, He made an educated guess. His father was nowhere to be seen for the past few days.

    His mother leaned forward as soon as she was out on the hall. Oh no! No no no! Judge knew where this was going, and he was not ready to travel lightspeed in a dragon''s arm. His baby body was not ready to handle that again. He was pretty sure physics didn''t allow for this, but who was he to question dragon mom logic?

    Eleyn (his mother) took off, air cracking around her as she moved, the surrounding turned to a blur as she passed by.

    She stopped on front of the patriarch''s office, the air swirling around where she stopped. Judge still didn''t understand how the mansion was still in one piece.

    Eleyn entered Judge''s Grandfather''s office with him in her arms. He was still a newborn, and she was not treating him like a fragile toy that would break at the slightest touch. So something was going on in her mind that was putting her mind in a state of unrest. This was making Judge really worry about his father. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    His grandfather was holding the sphere he had previously used to teleport them into a gazebo. But this time, he was putting the sphere inside a circular hole on his sword. Judge could see ether particles circulating on the glistening silver-colored blade, making it shimmer brightly.

    He was surprised that it was not made of gold, maybe it was because gold wasn''t the best choice when it came to making weapons.

    His Mother said something to his grandfather. Which, while he only understood a little, he managed to piece together the information in the way he thought was the most accurate. "Father, where did you keep my catalyst?"

    His grandfather said nothing to answer, but he pointed at a gold ornate (yes gold), black wooden box sitting on one of his shelves. His mother extended her hand towards the box and it was opened automatically, revealing a deep red wand, it had a wooden texture.

    The wand was a fine piece of craftsmanship, the design was simple yet captivating. There was a purple gem on the end of the handle, the hilt was shaped like a flower. The shaft had a beautiful curved pattern.

    It didn''t take long for Judge to figure out what was happening, they were getting ready for a fight. But who would wage a fight against the oh-so-mighty dragons? He couldn''t shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

    Judge remembered what the deity had said the previous night, he calmed his mind, thinking it would be alright. After all, he had seen his mother sprint a long distance with lightning speed, and with him in her hands. She was obviously strong.

    His mother summoned the floating wand towards her, his grandfather said something to the knights present. Judge concluded it as an order since he had a commanding tone. His mother waved her wand, creating a pouch made of fire.

    "Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Judge looked at his mother, concerned about his own well-being.

    She put him in the fire pouch, "I knew it," Judge cried, looking at his mother as if she just betrayed him. But contrary to his fearful expectations, the pouch was warm and comforting, almost too comforting that he fell asleep as soon as he was put in, and he had only just woken up.

 Chapter 23 - 23: A cinematic battle, but the cameraman is asleep

    Judge''s world had gone quiet with the most comforting and peaceful sleep he had ever got. But in the outside world, hell was breaking loose. The whole city was in a state of unrest. It happened suddenly while the whole family was deciding to go on a trip, though it had been postponed by one day due to Eleyn''s request.

    Now it was a good thing they didn''t leave, someone had planned to do this while they were away.

    "Judge is safe inside the Phoenix egg, Father," Eleyn said calmly to her father-in-law. Who stood with his sword drawn, his golden eyes fixed on the chaos beyond the mansion. Despite the situation, her voice was steady, though it was clear from the way she clenched her wand that she was ready to torch anyone who dared get too close to her son.

    Amber and Liam had gone off to Eleyn''s house, which was the royal palace. So she didn''t have to worry about both of her other children.

    The town was in absolute turmoil. Cultists¡ªwho, by all reasonable standards, should have picked an easier target¡ªhad decided to try to bring down an entire dragon-built city. These maniacs had been plotting this for years, apparently, and their plan was finally in motion.

    Fires raged, buildings crumbled, and terrifying ethercraft explosions lit up the sky like it was some sort of twisted holiday celebration''s firework show.

    Being able to destroy a town built by dragons and guarded by dragons wasn''t exactly something you could pull off overnight. These cultists had been meticulous, but they had underestimated the dragons as a species if they thought they could destroy a single one of any dragon''s city.

    Eleyn was now outside the mansion''s walls, with the egg floating close by (yes the one with Judge, imagine being born normally and having to be born again from an egg).

    She was clearly not liking the firework display in the least, she was now itching to put on another firework show, but this time with her enemies'' heads.

    Her fiery ethercraft literally burned the air around her as she watched the chaos unfold. But before she could launch into her usual "scorch first, ask questions later" routine, Melina, the ever-composed elf tutor, hurried towards her, looking more annoyed than frightened, she knew Eleyn well.

    "Why is teleporting blocked, is there a principle that blocks it?" Melina asked, her voice tight as she sidestepped a falling chunk of what used to be a dragon statue.

    Eleyn sighed as though she were explaining basic arithmetic to a child. "I don''t know of such a principle, but!" she began, her words dripping with forced patience, "the cult has set up an anti-teleportation barrier with some artifact. We need to get outside the barrier to escape.

    Or," she added with a glint in her eye, "we could just destroy the artifact and make this easier for others and let them be at ease."

    Melina raised a brow, her fingers twitching ever so slightly as she considered the prospect. Destroying things was kind of her specialty, after all. Her ethercraft wasn''t flashy, like Eleyn''s.

    She didn''t throw around fireballs or make the air crackle with raw energy. No, Melina''s principle for her signature ethercraft worked on an atomic level, taking apart anything¡ªstone, metal, bone, even ether constructs¡ªpiece by microscopic piece, until it was nothing but dust. Still, it wasn''t working on living things.

    Where Eleyn was a roaring inferno, Melina was quiet devastation. Together, they were about to become the nightmare of these idiotic cultists.

    Just as they were about to move, a group of robed cultists appeared at the edge of the courtyard, their leader holding a staff that crackled with dark energy. They looked like they were gearing up for some evil monologue, probably something about how they were going to cleanse the world or ascend to godhood.

    Eleyn, however, was not in the mood for speeches. "I''ll handle the cannon fodder. You find the artifact," she said to Melina, already summoning flames that danced eagerly at her fingertips. "Let''s get this over with."

    The cult leader raised his staff and began casting something ominous, but he didn''t get very far. Eleyn, who wasn''t big on waiting for her enemies to finish their spells, shot a blazing fireball at him so fast that it interrupted his chant mid-sentence. The man didn''t even have time to scream before he was engulfed in flames.

    That seemed to jolt the other cultists into action. They charged, shouting about their god and their ultimate victory, but Eleyn was already moving. Flames spiraled around her, forming deadly arcs that swept through the courtyard, incinerating anyone who got too close.

    Her ethercraft was pure, raw destruction, and yet there was a beauty to how she wielded it, like a dancer commanding the flames in a deadly waltz. Buildings that had stood for centuries would crumble if the fire scorched their foundations, but she kept the destruction controlled, focused only on the enemies before her.

    Melina, meanwhile, was the picture of calm efficiency. As the cultists kept pouring in, she walked straight into the chaos, her eyes scanning the battlefield for the artifact. A stone pillar collapsed in her path, but with a flick of her wrist, the entire structure disintegrated into a fine powder.

    It was as though she had gotten the pass for manipulating matter (Bye-bye science), she was taking apart anything in her way with super precision.

    As she moved deeper into the fray, a group of heavily armored cultists blocked her path, their shields glowing with protective wards. They looked confident¡ªafter all, these shields were enchanted to withstand most forms of ethercraft.

    Unfortunately for them, Melina''s ethercraft wasn''t "most forms of ethercraft."

    She extended her hand toward them, and the air around the shields began to shimmer. For a moment, the cultists stood firm, but then their shields started to crack¡ªnot break, but actually crumble, the wards dissolving as if they were made of sand. The cultists'' eyes widened in panic, and before they could even react, their armor followed suit, turning to dust around them.

    Melina walked past the now very naked and very terrified cultists without so much as a glance. Letting a huge wall fall above them.

    Back in the courtyard, Eleyn had turned the place into a fiery inferno, with walls of flame blocking every escape route for the cultists. They were trying to fight back, throwing spells and curses at her, but her fire consumed everything they threw her way. With a smirk, she raised both hands, and the flames roared higher, a dragon-shaped vortex of fire swirling in the air above her.

    She unleashed it on the remaining cultists, and in seconds, they were nothing more than ash.

    "You done playing with them yet?" Melina called from the edge of the courtyard.

    "Just about," Eleyn replied, extinguishing the flames with a wave of her hand. "Find the artifact?"

    "No... Do you think years of meticulous planning would be just dependent on an artifact? And if it is, do you think it would easy to find?" Melina said as she disintegrated a fiery projectile heading her way.

    Just then, a deafening roar shook the ground beneath their feet. Both women looked up to see a massive shadow descending from the sky¡ªa dragon, its scales gleaming in the sunlight, wings blotting out the sky.

    Eleyn smirked. "Now that is what I call a dramatic entrance." Ignoring Melina''s nagging.

    Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 24 - 24: Free demolition service, Courtesy of Cultists

    Judge''s grandfather leaned back in his chair, surveying the chaos outside his office window with the kind of disinterest most people reserved for watching paint dry. Buildings were crumbling, dragons were soaring through the air, and cultists were screaming something about eternal destruction, but to him? It was Tuesday.

    "Free demolition service," he mused, sipping tea calmly. "Finally, a break on that renovation bill." He''d been looking for a reason to tear the town down for ages, and here it was, wrapped up with a nice little bow of cultist madness. The Dragons could handle themselves, obviously.

    The cultists might as well have been chickens attacking a tank, and if anything, this would be a nice little exercise for the younger generation. Stretch the old wings, burn a few fanatics, and call it a day.

    Still, there was the matter of his grandson. Judge was safe in the Phoenix egg for now, but fights like this had a tendency to get a little too destructive. You never know when some overeager cultist would try to mess with something they shouldn''t. And speaking of reckless, there was his daughter-in-law, Eleyn, casually scorching everything within a mile radius.

    "Ah, classic Eleyn," he sighed, shaking his head. Fire everywhere, enemies screaming in terror, and not a single thought given to property damage. He almost admired her commitment to overkill.

    But the real surprise was Melina. For someone so composed, she was doing the kind of structural damage you usually associate with wrecking balls¡ªnot de-structuring everything at the atomic level. Yet here she was, turning objects into fine dust with just a flick of her hand.

    Then his ''Grandpa Sense'' started tingling. He squinted. There, just past Eleyn, a particularly shady cultist was inching toward the Phoenix egg like a moth to a very bad idea. Now, normally he wouldn''t care¡ªmost cultists had about as much chance of getting through the egg''s defenses as a toddler trying to take on a tank with a plastic spoon. But this one? This one had a vibe.

    "Damn it," he muttered. Grandpa Mode: Activated.

    He pushed away from his desk, rolling his neck like an athlete about to enter the big game. Time for the big, dramatic entry. Dragons, after all, didn''t just show up. They arrived. With flair. He raised his hand, ready to teleport in style and¡­nothing.

    "Hmm," he frowned, trying again. Still nothing. "Ah."

    Of course. The anti-teleport barrier. Curse the foresight of these cultists. He stood there, a man defeated¡ªnot by battle, but by logistics.

    "Well, this is awkward," he grumbled to himself, looking toward the window.

    There was only one option left. No teleport? No problem. He could jump! You couldn''t have a grand entrance without a little altitude, right? Except for the fact that this felt a little less "dramatic boss" and a little more "desperate skydiver without a parachute."

    With a sigh that carried the weight of a thousand unmet expectations, he climbed onto the windowsill and launched himself out. Mid-air, he felt a surge of satisfaction as his body transformed into his true dragon form (but way smaller), silver scales gleaming in the sunlight like the world''s largest disco ball.

    The wings spread out, catching the air, and with one powerful flap, he soared above the town.

    That''s more like it, he thought smugly. Now this was a proper entrance.

    He spotted the cultist below, creeping ever closer to the Phoenix egg, unaware of the doom literally descending upon him. With a roar that echoed like thunder, he dove. Cultists scattered, screaming something unintelligible about ''false gods'' or ''great serpents'' or some nonsense like that, but he had eyes only for the one.

    As he plummeted, the cultist turned, eyes wide, like someone who had just realized that picking a fight with dragons was a one-way ticket to bad decisions. But it was too late for regrets. With a single swipe of his claw, the cultist was reduced to what could only be described as "fancy red mist."

    "Not so ominous now, are you?" Grandpa Dragon growled, feeling quite pleased with himself.

    He landed with an earth-shaking thud, transforming back into his humanoid form with the grace of a ballerina¡ªif that ballerina happened to be a grumpy old dragon lord with a penchant for theatrics.

    Dusting off his robes, he took a look around, watching Eleyn still frying cultists like it was an Olympic event, while Melina casually disintegrated anything that even thought about moving in her direction.

    "Ah, family gatherings," he muttered. "Always such a lively affair."

    Eleyn finally noticed him and waved, her hands still crackling with fire. "About time you got here, father!"

    He waved back, mostly because it felt rude not to. "Had a bit of trouble with the teleportation spell. These cultists actually had the nerve to plan something."

    "Rookies," she snorted, setting a nearby tree on fire for good measure.

    Melina floated over, looking as calm as if she had just finished a nice stroll in the garden, not the wholesale destruction of several city blocks. "Patriarch Gereon," She called out, "We could really use a way to disable the anti-teleport barrier. These idiots actually managed to get their hands on something powerful."

    "I was just thinking that," Grandpa Gereon grumbled, eyeing the sky. "Any idea where the artifact is?"

    Melina, ever the tactician, already had an answer. "There''s a central cultist controlling it. I can sense the artifact''s location¡ªit''s up on the ridge behind the town."

    Gereon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I was just planning to take a nice afternoon nap, but I suppose I could go tear down a world-ending artifact. Just for kicks." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Would you prefer I do it?" Eleyn teased, sending a cultist flying with a casual backhand of flame.

    "Oh, please, I''m not that old," Gereon coughed "Let''s get this over with before dinner. And about the trip you had been planning, let''s do that after the town is rebuilt."

    "Father, I would head outside the barrier and teleport Judge to the palace. Please take care of things here"

    Melina touched the egg, "I will go with her, Protecting the egg and fighting together can become quite a task, especially if someone comes whom she can''t handle in her human form."

    Gereon looked at both Eleyn and Melina, he nodded and started heading toward the artifact''s location, While the other two started to head out of the city.

 Chapter 25 - 25: My Deity Has a Better Sense of Humor Than Me

    Judge was sleeping peacefully in his egg, oblivious to the destruction outside. But his mind had decided to take a little field trip. He stood in front of Clio¡ªhis own personal deity, or at least she should be, given how often they were meeting lately.

    "Why am I here¡ªuh, Cli¡ªClio?" Judge stammered, tripping over the name like it was a rogue piece of sidewalk.

    He had never stuttered before, not even when he was alive and doing business deals with people who thought they''d outsmarted him. But here? It was a whole different story, it was like he was a completely different person when in front of the deity of stories. The place was dark, with no light anywhere, yet he could see Clio and himself as clear as day. Creepy? Maybe.

    "I told you yesterday that you could achieve whatever you desire, right?" Clio''s smile was starting to become less annoying, though Judge wasn''t sure if that was good or just Stockholm syndrome.

    "Yeah, you did. So¡­?" He didn''t trust that smile. That was the kind of smile that people gave when they were about to hand you a contract with a lot of fine print.

    "Well, you can''t wake up right now. There''s kind of a... situation in your city." She said it so casually, like she was talking about a mild inconvenience instead of, you know, chaos.

    Judge''s blood pressure (if he still had one) spiked. "And what about Mom? And Dad?!"

    Clio waved off his panic with the grace of someone who''s seen too many doomsdays to care. "Relax. No one''s going to die. After all, if there''s one thing nobody seems to grasp¡ªdespite it being painfully obvious¡ªit''s to never, ever underestimate the dragons."

    Her smile morphed from "mildly irritating" to "oddly comforting." Judge hated that. Comfort wasn''t exactly his vibe right now. Warmth? Bad memories of being stuffed in a flaming pouch by his mother. And he definitely never wanted to remember the warm vine. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Okay, so why am I here then?" Judge asked, realizing he couldn''t move. Great, now he was a statue.

    "Oh, I just thought it''d be fun to tell you more about the world you''re living in¡ªimportant stuff you''ll need to know once you wake up." Clio snapped her fingers, and suddenly a giant throne appeared beneath her. She sat down, looking way too regal. "I wanted you to learn it at your own pace, but, well, you know... circumstances."

    "More world-building? Ugh, fine. Let''s get this over with." Judge sighed, now finding himself also on a throne¡ªstill immobile though. "Can you see the future? Wait, no, you''re a deity... of course, you can."

    Clio chuckled like she was talking to a child who had just asked if the sky was blue. "No, no one can see the future. What I can see is more... complex."

    "Great. Explain it in the simplest way possible."

    Clio leaned back, her expression like someone about to drop the ultimate truth bomb. "Okay, imagine your life as a book, and I''m the author. I know what I''ve planned for the future, but I can always change it. But here? I don''t have the power to change anything or dictate what the story will change into."

    Judge blinked. "Right. Got it. Sort of. Let''s just get to the world-building part, shall we?"

    Clio''s face shifted from amused deity to Serious Mode in 0.2 seconds. "Right. So, you know you''ve been born as a dragon, correct?"

    "Yeah, I picked up on that."

    "Well, here''s the kicker: the existence of dragons is known to only a small, very specific group of people. Your city? It''s hidden. Like, super hidden. Think of it as the VIP section of a club, except no one knows it even exists."

    "Hidden dragons, secret city. Got it." Judge said, trying to process what sounded like a Dungeons & Dragons fan''s fever dream. "So, we''re in some kind of elite bubble?"

    "Basically. Your family¡ªand by extension, you¡ªare part of a race of creatures that could obliterate civilizations if they wanted.

    But they don''t, mostly because they''ve never wanted to do something so tedious, and due to an agreement between some other existence. The downfall of all dragons is that they are the laziest creature in existence, but even the least lazy sloth is still way above your league.

    "Nice. World-ending potential with a side of restraint." Judge nodded. This was starting to sound more manageable.

    Clio continued, "But the city''s hidden nature is more than just secrecy. It''s physically cut off, protected by layers of magic, enchantments, and a network of other, more... complex defenses."

    "Then how the heck did our enemies get in? If it was so secure, nobody should be able to attack it. Or did someone intentionally let them in?" Judge felt pretty smug for connecting the dots.

    Clio clapped her hands. "Bingo! But I won''t tell who did. There is an anti teleport barrier that''s keeping you from escaping. The cultists trying to wreck the city set it up, and your mom and her merry gang of super-powered friends are working on getting rid of it. It''s not easy, but let''s face it¡ªnothing involving dragons ever is."

    Judge exhaled sharply. "Great. And my part in all this? Sitting in an egg?"

    "Hey, someone has to stay safe! You''re important, after all." Clio gave him another one of her annoyingly comforting smiles. "But don''t worry, you''re not going to stay in that egg forever. Once things settle down, there''s a whole world for you to conquer¡ªer, explore."

    "Conquer, explore... same thing," Judge said, suddenly feeling a weird sense of anticipation. He was a dragon, after all. Time to live up to the family legacy.

    Clio tilted her head, looking at him like she knew something he didn''t. "Oh, you''ll do just fine, Judge. Just remember, this isn''t just about power. It''s about knowledge, control, and timing. And trust me, you''ll have plenty of all three soon enough."

    "Well, that sounds... ominous," Judge muttered.

    Clio grinned, "Ominous? Nah, just your usual existential life lesson. Have fun with it!" She stood up, "Oh! I almost forgot. The colleague I said you would meet later," her grin turned into a huge smile, "looks like you two are destined to meet sooner." vanishing with a final wave.

    And just like that, Judge was alone in the darkness. Again. Still stuck in his throne, with way too much new information swirling in his head.

    "So, secret dragon city, powerful family, world-altering powers... no pressure." He sighed, "And now I have to meet my coworker? I am not paid enough for this." He could now move, so he got up and willed to leave the place.

    "Okay, time to wake up." But he forgot that he couldn''t wake up since he was inside an egg.

 Chapter 26 - 26: When Youâ€™re Too Bored to Fight, But the Cultists Insist

    Gereon was having the absolute time of his life. Chaos? Check. Fire everywhere? Check. Cultists running around like headless chickens?

    Big ol'' check. This was a perfect day. Seriously, who needed a vacation when you could have a city-wide destruction party, complete with clueless villains and free demolition services? S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Ah, nothing like a little mayhem to clear the mind," he mused as he strolled through the burning streets, hands casually tucked behind his back like he was on a relaxing Sunday walk. "And here I thought today would be boring."

    Gereon¡ªwho, by the way, was currently in his human form (because hey, why not make things a little more interesting?)¡ªwasn''t remotely concerned about the town. In fact, he''d been planning to rebuild the place for years. Now? He had an army of deranged cultists doing the hard labor for him, and for free! This was practically the highlight of his week.

    "Who needs contractors when you''ve got maniacs blowing everything up for you?" he muttered cheerfully, kicking a piece of flaming debris out of his way. "And I didn''t even have to sign any permits."

    Gereon has become an old man, with years of experience at his disposal. He saw a group of cultists fighting a young, well-dressed man nearby. He looked at them and raised his hand, all of the cultists exploded as he curled his arm into a fist. " ''tis called pressure lads" He laughed sarcastically.

    "Thank you sir Gereon" The young man bowed his head as soon as he saw him, with the hand on his sword''s hilt. "I was having a hard time as I am still inexperienced."

    "Haha, it is important to know your own limitations, good for you" He pats the guy in the back. "Go help any child you see, everyone tends to go overboard when there is a fight."

    "Yes Sir!" He turned and left.

    "Now let''s see" He jumped up towards a tall building nearby and started to scan the whole landscape. "Who looks like they''ll give me a proper warm-up?"

    And then he spotted him¡ªa hulking mass of a cultist, fighting a small group of dragons. The man radiated dark energy like a lighthouse of bad decisions, the kind of dark energy that screamed, "I take myself way too seriously. He was built like a tank and looked like he''d spent too much time thinking up evil speeches."

    Perfect.

    "Oh, great," Gereon sighed dramatically, "another mid-boss. Just what I needed to make my day even more exciting."

    He smiled as he propelled himself towards the fight. He raised his hands and looked at the dragons as soon as he got there, "Now, now, now," he waved them off, "I know you young''uns want to play, but let an old man have his fun. I''ll take it from here.

    The dragons looked confused at first, "Yes, my lord." They quickly composed themselves and left.

    "Now for you, my friend. Let''s see what you got" He scratched his beard.

    The cultist''s lips curled into a snarl. "Dragon scum," he spat, dark energy swirling ominously around his fists. "You think you can walk around in your human form and beat me?"

    Gereon raised an eyebrow. "Well, I was planning on it, yeah. But hey, if you want me to turn into a dragon and end this in, like, two seconds, I''m game. And please use nicer words, there are children fighting around here!"

    The cultist roared, summoning a giant ball of black energy between his hands. The ground trembled, rubble shook, and Gereon could practically hear the dramatic battle music swelling in the background.

    "Oh, a giant dark energy ball," Gereon said, stifling a yawn. "How original. Let me guess¡ªyou call it something ridiculous like, ''The Orb of Eternal Despair'' or ''Doom Sphere''? I''m just spitballing here."

    The cultist''s eye twitched. "This is the Abyssal Death Orb, you ignorant fool!"

    Gereon sighed. "Of course it is. Alright, fine. Let''s get this over with."

    Without warning, Gereon leaped into the air, performing the most unnecessarily flashy backflip you''ve ever seen. He twisted, turned, and spun like a figure skater trying to win gold at the Olympics, all while dodging the enormous death orb like it was just a minor inconvenience.

    The cultist''s face twisted in confusion. "What in the godforsaken world are you doing?!" He screamed, "Fight properly you punk dragon."

    Gereon landed gracefully, with a smug grin plastered on his face. "That, my oversized friend, was called ''style.'' You should try it sometime. Oh wait you can''t."

    The cultist, clearly done with the banter, lunged at Gereon with two massive, dark ether blades. He moved fast¡ªlike a freight train barreling down the tracks, but Gereon was faster. He vanished from sight just as the cultist swung, leaving the lumbering behemoth slashing at thin air.

    "Looking for me?" Gereon''s voice came from behind, tapping the cultist''s armored shoulder.

    The cultist whirled around, teeth bared in rage, but Gereon was already in motion, raising his hand. "Alright, enough of this. Time to show you something a little more¡­ refined."

    Gereon''s hand began to glow with an intense, bright silver light, so bright it illuminated the battlefield like the sun itself. The light danced around his fingers, crackling with raw ether, until finally, he unleashed it in a move that would forever be burned into the memories of anyone watching.

    "Behold," he said, voice so dramatic he should''ve taken up acting, "the silver arc!"

    The air crackled with energy as the silver light shot from Gereon''s hand, forming a blinding, crescent-shaped wave that cut through the air like a comet. It slashed through the cultist''s armor, obliterating the dark energy around him and sending him flying backward in a spectacular, slow-motion arc, in two pieces.

    Gereon dusted off his hands, looking almost bored. "Well, that was anticlimactic. Really should''ve invested in better cultists."

    Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard slow, deliberate clapping from behind him. Gereon turned, eyebrow raised, to find a tall figure emerging from the shadows¡ªa man cloaked in dark robes, his face obscured but the ominous aura he gave was enough to get Gereon exited.

    "Well done, dragon," the man said, his voice smooth and sinister. "I must thank you for ridding me of my incompetent underlings."

    Gereon''s eyes narrowed. Now this was more like it, he might''ve to transform.

 Chapter 27 - 27: How not to annoy a mother dragon

    Melina and Eleyn were the best when it came to teamwork. Both of their skills complemented each other. If someone comes with an ether-resistant armor, Melina will break it and let Eleyn do the rest.

    While Melina''s principle was deadly, she couldn''t disintegrate anything that is alive. And Eleyn was here with her uncontrolled destruction. Makes people wonder how a man as composed as Alex Drakonis fell for her.

    "Eleyn, we should now ignore the small fries" Her voice was barely audible over the wind since both of them were moving at a high speed.

    "WHAT?" Eleyn shouted back, fully prepared to reduce everything in her path to smoldering ash.

    "I said STOP!" Melina raised her voice just as Eleyn, a little too enthusiastically, slammed the brakes, causing the air around them to swirl like they''d just opened a window in a wind tunnel.

    "What?" Eleyn grumbled, half focused on caressing the egg in her arms like a mother dragon guarding her treasure hoard.

    But the answer quickly revealed itself. They would''ve gotten goosebumps if they had hair on the body, as a presence ahead of them made itself known¡ªdark, menacing, and screaming, "I''m way too over-leveled for this beginner''s area."

    "Oh great," Eleyn muttered under her breath, already preparing a sarcastic retort for whatever monologue this presence was about to drop.

    And then, right on cue, a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, clad in a cloak so dark it looked like he''d stolen it from a villain''s clearance sale. His face was obscured by his hood, but the arrogant smirk in his voice was impossible to miss.

    "Ah, I was hoping to break that little egg you''re clutching so desperately. Must be important, huh?" He chuckled, as though the idea of ruining their day brought him genuine joy.

    Melina and Eleyn exchanged a look¡ªhalf annoyance, half ''ugh, another one of these guys.'' But before Eleyn could throw out a snappy comeback, the man raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

    With a flash, the egg vanished from Eleyn''s grasp. Just like that.

    Eleyn blinked. Then she blinked again. Her hands hovered where the egg had been, her brain processing what had just happened.

    "Did he just¡ª" Eleyn''s eyes looked around in confusion, fire igniting in her sharp gaze. "Oh no, you did NOT just teleport my baby away!"

    The man snapped his fingers again, this time it was Melina, she also disappeared with a flash. And the man spoke, "We can''t have distractions in our little exchange now, can we?"

    Eleyn''s hair rose up in a wave, the blue color turning red and golden embers spewing out from them. She looked like she was the epitome of an angry mother right now. "Distractions?! You think I need distractions to take you out?! I don''t even bother learning the names of weaker beings like you!"

    The man tilted his head, amused. "Oh, I suppose introductions are in order then. I am Kaelon, The black blood." His face suddenly turned serious. "Don''t you think it is too early to judge someone''s strength?"

    Eleyn took a step forward, the ground melting as she walked. "I think you misunderstood something." She gave the most annoying grin anyone had seen, "It is not that you are weak, It''s just that I am too strong for you."

    "We''ll see" Kaelon, slightly annoyed by her remark, lunged forward drawing a black sword.

    "Your arrogance know no bounds." Eleyn made a sword out of golden flames (Yes gold). "I''m Eleyn, the Witch of the Golden Flames. You can call me the last person you''ll ever annoy."

    Eleyn''s body was weak because it had been only a few days after she had given birth. And here she was, already back in action. She wondered where her, ever-composed husband had run off to, he was in for an earful.

    Sparks flew as both of their swords clashed, both of their swordplays were a sight to behold. The air around them was thick from the intense heat of Eleyn''s flames and the oppressive darkness coming from Kaelon''s blades.

    Each strike made tremors on the ground, which cracked and made craters every time the blades clashed.

    Kaelon smirked, his black sword humming with dark energy as he pushed back. "For someone who talks big, you sure seem to be struggling."

    Eleyn gave a sly smile, as if what he said just proved her point. "Struggling? Oh please, I am enjoying decent swordplay after a long time. Even giving birth was harder than this. And you are now taking my maternity leave."

    Kaelon looked confused, women on maternity leave would never be this energetic. "You might want to hurry, you never know what happened to your precious egg."

    Eleyn let out a dry laugh, swinging her fiery sword in a wide arc that forced Kaelon to retreat a step. "Oh please, don''t tell me you don''t even the most basic thing about phoenix eggs. I am in no hurry"

    "In that case, let ME make this quick" He stepped back more and pointed his sword at her, channeling ether to the tip of his blade, a small orb of blood was created on the tip, which he shot at Eleyn.

    The orb grew bigger and split into many smaller orbs, which all turned into a sharp drill. "Black spike." Kaelon had the air of someone who had just uttered the name of a badass move.

    Eleyn, seemingly unfazed by the spikes, creates a wall made of her signature golden flames. They were more than enough to vaporize the orbs into the air.

    "Quick! You say? Oh, sweetheart, do I have bad news for you." Eleyn grinned wickedly, "I don''t do quick. I like to make my enemies suffer. Especially you" She raised her sword, pointing at him, "You teleported my baby to who knows where." But she wasn''t worried, the phoenix egg was indestructible, and a random teleport always results in reaching near a Phoenix, who were her allies.

    Walls of golden flames erupted, encircling and isolating both of them. "You should''ve never picked a fight with me," Eleyn said as she grew a pair of blue horns, her ears turned sharp, and a pair of blue wings appeared on her back, surprisingly not tearing her attire.

    "Engulf the malice, Oh flames of the holy." Now that was dramatic, Eleyn lowered her sword. Nothing except anticipation happened for a while, suddenly¡ª Kaelon fell to the ground and screamed in pain, his pale skin turning bright.

    Golden flames slowly started to engulf him, slowly but surely, torturing him to death. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 28 - 28: Dragon Lord, The Grandpa of sarcasm

    Gereon could feel the overwhelming power of the person in front of him, he was someone worthy to fight against a dragon lord. The lord being Gereon, obviously.

    The man stood tall on the rubbles of fallen buildings, his sword was dark, but unlike Gereon''s previous encounter, the sword had dark energy spewing out of it. "I had not killed any of the dragons yet, they were not worth my time. But you, old man, I can feel it, how strong are you?" He had an excited smile on his face, but not in a good way.

    Gereon cracked his neck, loosening up as he readied himself. "You seem awfully confident, standing there like you''ve got something to prove. But tell me," he swirled his sword lazily, the blade catching the light, "have you ever fought a dragon who makes jokes while he melts your face off?"

    The man''s expression tightened, he was ready for a fight but this guy was talking way too much, so he decided to taunt him. "I''ve fought many beings in my time. You''re no different."

    Gereon''s laugh boomed, loud enough to send a few birds flying from the trees behind them¡ª if there was a tree there of course. "Oh, you poor, poor soul. You just compared me to ''many beings.'' You might want to write a will."

    The man lunged without warning, his sword aimed straight for Gereon''s heart, but the dragon lord sidestepped with ease, the movement so casual it was insulting.

    "You call that an attack? My grandmother''s faster than that, and she''s been dead for a whole century!" Gereon taunted, spinning his blade in a lazy arc. The clang of metal against metal echoed as their swords collided, sparks flying with each clash.

    Both of the men were taking it easy and enjoying themselves, but Gereon''s sarcastic and insulting remarks was making the other guy even more enraged.

    He moved with precise strikes, with each swing of a sword aimed to kill. But Gereon dodged or blocked the attacks with the grace of a Lego enthusiast building a complicated set. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "What''s your name youngster?" Gereon asked while holding back a yawn, probably not to annoy the guy too much too early. He was starting to enjoy the fight as he had gotten a strong opponent.

    Both of them stepped back, "I am Aldric, the light priest from the church of God of Night."

    "Ah, so you are a vampire." Gereon gave him an annoying smile. "No wonder you are stronger than the other bunch of trolls, elves, and dwarves. Why would a creature as dignified as you attack our town, not that I''m complaining. I even let someone interfere with the barrier, but I should point out that a whole-scale fight was out of the question."

    "I may be a vampire but I am not as idiotic as the rest, not even taking revenge. The dragons are the ones who put our entire race nearly into extinction, and I will have my vengeance by doing the same to your race, you will be the first dragon to fall... Dragon Lord."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "The first huh? I''m touched. But let me tell you something, Take this as someone speaking from experience: Revenge is a thief. It steals your time, your joy, your future. It promises satisfaction but delivers nothing but regret.

    The true victory is in walking away, not letting the hatred bury you along with your enemy."

    Aldric''s eyes narrowed as Gereon spoke, the vampire''s rage barely restrained behind his tightly clenched jaw. "You speak as if you know true loss, Dragon Lord. As if you''ve suffered in the way I have."

    Gereon chuckled, the sound low and rumbling like distant thunder. "Oh, I''ve suffered, believe me. But if you think revenge is the way to ease that pain, you''re in for a world of disappointment, my friend. Trust me, it''s like throwing rocks into the ocean and expecting a tidal wave." He spun his sword once more, the blade shimmering in the fading light.

    "Now, shall we stop chatting and get on with this? I''ve got a nap planned after this, and you''re cutting into my relaxation time."

    Aldric snarled, his patience fraying. "You mock me, dragon!"

    "And yet," Gereon interrupted with a grin, "you''re still standing there, waiting for me to stop. You''ve got all this darkness and vengeance, and I''ve just got my bright character. It''s like a tragic comedy, really."

    Without another word, Aldric''s ether flared around him, briefly forming a small, dark storm before revealing himself, now with a much stronger character vibe. His sword became engulfed in an eerie black flame as he lunged forward with blinding speed. Gereon, however, sidestepped the attack with a casual flick of his wrist, as though swatting away an annoying insect.

    "Nice form," Gereon commented, easily deflecting another strike, "but a bit predictable. You''re announcing your movements. It''s like you''re waving a flag that says, ''Hey, I''m about to stab you!''"

    Aldric roared in frustration, his attacks becoming more frenzied. He swung his sword in wide arcs, sending waves of dark energy crashing toward Gereon, who dodged them effortlessly, his movements sloppy but precise.

    "You know," Gereon said, his voice light and conversational as he parried another strike, "you really ought to take up dancing. You''ve got the speed for it. A little grace wouldn''t hurt, though."

    Aldric''s face twisted with rage, his crimson eyes glowing with hatred. "Enough!" he shouted, dark-colored ether erupting outward in a violent explosion. The ground beneath them cracked and split, and the air itself seemed to grow heavy with the weight of Aldric''s power, he was very powerful, but he was matched against the wrong opponent.

    Gereon, still calm, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, is it time for the dramatic power-up moment? I love this part."

    The vampire''s form shifted as dark energy consumed him, transforming him into a towering figure of shadow and flame. His sword had grown larger, and the dark energy that spewed from it crackled with raw, untamed ether.

    "Now," Aldric growled, his voice deep and distorted, "you will witness the true might of the God of Night''s chosen."

    Gereon stared at Aldric''s new form for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. "Not bad. I''d give it a solid 8 out of 10 for the intimidation factor. But you''re still missing something¡­ Ah, right. You forgot the banter part."

    Aldric, now fully consumed by his rage, charged at Gereon with terrifying speed. His blade came down with the force of a landslide, aiming to cleave the Dragon Lord in two. But Gereon, ever the showman, raised his own sword just in time, blocking the strike with a deafening clang that sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

    The force of the blow sent both men sliding backward, their feet digging into the ground. For the first time in the battle, Gereon''s smile faltered, replaced by a look of mild surprise.

    "Well, well," he said, his tone still light despite the clear strain in his voice. "Looks like you''ve got some real strength behind those fancy powers of yours."

    Aldric''s monstrous form loomed over him, his sword raised high for another strike. "This is your end, Dragon Lord!"

    Gereon''s smile returned, sharp and dangerous. "Not today, bloodsucker."

    With a sudden burst of golden ether, Gereon surged forward, his sword cutting through the air with blinding speed. Aldric barely had time to react as their blades clashed once more, the impact sending sparks flying in every direction. Gereon''s strikes were extremely precise, heavy, and relentless, each one moved to exploit the smallest weakness in Aldric''s defense.

    Despite his monstrous strength, Aldric found himself being pushed back, his footing slipping with every blow. Gereon moved like a whirlwind, his sword a blur of golden light as he danced around Aldric''s attacks, his movements simple and effortless.

    "You know," Gereon said between strikes, "for all that dark power of yours, you''re still too slow. It''s all about agility, my friend. Power means nothing if you can''t land a hit."

    Aldric roared again in frustration, Gereon knew the art of making your enemy angry very well, he unleashed another wave of dark ether that tore through the ground, sending debris flying into the air. But Gereon was already moving, dodging the attack with a casual leap and landing gracefully a few feet away.

    "Really, you''ve got to stop relying on these big, flashy moves," Gereon chided, shaking his head. "They look cool, sure, but they''re not very practical."

    Aldric''s chest heaved with exertion, his monstrous form flickering as the dark ether began to wane. "You¡­ mock me¡­ still¡­"

    Gereon gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, come on. You''re taking this all too seriously. This is supposed to be fun! A good ol'' battle of life and death. Well, mostly for you.

    I''m planning on walking away from this."

    With a roar of defiance (yes more roaring), Aldric summoned every last ounce of his strength, his dark ether surging around him in a final, desperate attempt to overpower the Dragon Lord. His sword swung down with all the weight of his rage and vengeance behind it.

    But Gereon, with a calm smile, raised his hand. "Time to end this."

    In an instant, golden ether exploded from his body, engulfing the battlefield in a blinding light. The sheer force of Gereon''s power shattered Aldric''s sword, sending shards of dark energy scattering like dust in the wind.

    Aldric stumbled back, his monstrous form crumbling as the ether drained from his body. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the last of his strength left him.

    Gereon sheathed his sword, walking over to the defeated vampire with a casual swagger. "Well, that was entertaining. You put up a decent fight, Aldric. But, as I said before¡­ revenge is a thief. And right now, it''s stolen your future."

    Aldric, his face pale and drawn, looked up at Gereon with hollow eyes. "You¡­ you spared me¡­ Why?"

    Gereon shrugged. "Eh, I''m not a fan of killing for the sake of it. Plus, you''ve got potential. Maybe next time, try fighting for something other than vengeance. You might actually enjoy it."

    With that, Gereon turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the horizon as the remnants of Aldric''s dark power faded into nothingness. As he left, he called out one last witty remark over his shoulder.

    "Oh, and if you ever feel like a rematch, look me up! I could use the workout."

 Chapter 29 - 29: Studio Smackdown: Round One, When No Thanks Doesnt Work

    Judge was in his clone body, sitting near the ether well. After the meeting with Clio, he couldn''t go back to his real body since he knew he would fall asleep. So he did himself a favor and teleported to the studio before switching with the clone and heading back to the forest.

    Now he just sits there looking for some way to teleport near his real body. But according to what Clio said, he cannot teleport inside the city of dragons. Even if there was no anti-teleport barrier, it would''ve been a chore to teleport.

    As he was pondering about what to do like a squirrel who had lost its hidden stash of nuts (the edible kind, seriously¡ªif you thought otherwise, please see a therapist). He could suddenly sense his real body somewhere very far away.

    "Did Mom succeed in teleporting out of the city? Maybe I should go see her." But there was one tiny problem¡ª She didn''t know about his clone, and a man in an unknown attire with a smiling white mask wasn''t very well welcomed by people, especially his mother, it wasn''t an exaggeration to say that he was honestly scared of her.

    Using the magic of EC (Enhanced Cognition), he found the solution, he didn''t have to use it but he did anyway. He could teleport near his real self and quickly head back to the studio, observing what had happened in that split second. If he used his EC he could get a better grasp of the scene.

    "Alright," He stood up, he now had another problem to solve, teleporting such a great distance would require a great deal of ether, and he wasn''t sure he would have enough ether to go back into the studio.

    He decided to scourge the researcher''s office for any catalysts. And he found one¡ª well, many actually. There was a box full of unused, single-use catalysts. "Yep, this will work!" He excitedly took a few and laid them out on a table in front of him.

    Laying them out on a table, he focused on the catalysts, drawing ether from each until he could not draw any more ether from them. Focusing on his real body''s location, Judge folded space and stepped through, activating his EC to gauge the surroundings instantly.

    The teleportation consumed almost half of his ether reserve, which was surprising considering the fact that there was a huge amount of catalysts from which he absorbed ether in order to perform his principle.

    Hoping to see his mother, all he saw was another forest, but not as thick as the one before, the trunks and branches of the trees present had a more orange hue than... well, trees. The leaves were bright red instead of green. There was a path nearby, not fancy but clear enough to indicate that there were people using this path regularly.

    But the most important thing, there was no one present. No Mom, No Grandpa, No Melina¡ª No one was there with the egg. He deactivated his EC and proceeded toward the egg that held his real body, and he picked the big egg in his hands.

    He noticed two things about it¡ª one, it was extremely heavy, he could imagine someone struggling to power lift with two of these on each end. The second one, was that it was extremely hard, though not as hard as his clone body.

    "Who might you be young man with a masked face?" A woman appeared behind him. "And will you tone down your Will? Your presence is pretty intense, any normal person would''ve been on the ground, gasping for breath."

    Judge almost panicked in surprise, someone appeared behind him and he did not even sense her coming, which alone made him wary. He turned around, starting his masquerade of a mysterious entity.

    "My apologies," he said smoothly. "But I cannot contain my anger, and that naturally leads to an overflow of Will. Since you''re unaffected, I see no reason to hide it."

    The woman smiled faintly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. She reminded him of Clio, but less annoying. "I see. So, what angers you, masked one?"

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, as if clones were capable of such feats of course. But his expressions were hidden behind the mask. "It is none of your concern." He turned around, ready to leave, "But if you must know, I am here for personal reasons. Now, if you would excuse me."

    "Your temperament is pretty bad." She tilted her head, she was curious about him but her facial expression did not change. "That arrogant nature will get you in a lot of trouble." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Her voice was annoyingly calm, leaving Judge to wonder if she was Clio 2.0¡ª but her character was way off from Clio''s warm attitude.

    Judge was starting to understand that standing here any longer would not spell ''good'' for him. "I did not ask for a lecture lady, I will be going." He decided to teleport back to the studio after he was out of her sight.

    "Who said anything about lecturing?" Without a warning, she launched herself in front of him, the sword in her hand had the scabbard on. She aimed at his mask, probably to see the arrogant guy''s face.

    Judge, luckily had his EC still on, which helped him to block the attack that could otherwise hit him straight on his mask. His hands did not break due to the hard materials it was made of, but he was blasted back, hitting and destroying many trees on the path, he was still clutching the egg in his arms.

    "Wow you are strong, I expected a broken bone or two." She was still smiling, but this time, the smile felt illegal. He suddenly felt the urge to apologize to Clio for thinking her smile as annoying.

    "What do you think you are, doing? Are you looking for a fight?" Judge could not falter, he needed to keep up his acting.

    "You can take it in whatever way you want, but some with a will as domineering as you should be able to take my attacks." She launched at him again.

    Judge had no choice but to fight back, and there was only one way to do it. He snapped his fingers, teleporting both of them inside the studio.

 Chapter 30 - 30: Blades, and Bad Decisions: Judges Guide to Getting Smacked

    Judge, now sitting grandly on his throne, watched as the woman in Victorian attire looked around in confusion. She wore a red steampunk long coat, with black a waistcoat, and skinny pants. It didn''t actually scream steampunk, but she was there. He deactivated EC as he deemed it unnecessary since they were inside the studio.

    "Hey!" The woman said, brushing off her short black hair, her crimson eyes gazing sharply at Judge. "Do you think a change of scenery would actually make you win?"

    "Precisely," It was his turn to speak more arrogantly, "You started the fight, now let me end it." He snapped his fingers, changing the entire space. He had to record the fight, it might turn out epic.

    "WHa¡ª" That was all she could muster before she was hanging upside down, tied on all limbs with a chain. Judge had to crush her ego just as he had done to Hawthorne. This one would take some extra efforts, that''s all.

    But little did he know that his calculations were far off, like... really far off. She snapped the chains without effort, but her sword was nowhere to be seen. "Looking for these?" Judge held up her sword.

    "You little!" She rushed at him in an inhumane speed, and as she was about to reach him, he teleported behind her, a light push was enough to knock her out of balance. But she did not crash even though there was a wall in front of her, rather, the wall vanished.

    She now sat in the throne room once again, with Judge standing near the throne, smirking with her sword in his hand. "What a fine beauty, what''s the sword''s name?" He turned to her.

    "The sword''s name is Ashen and me, the owner... is Seraphis." She was surprisingly calm despite the situation. She stood up¡ª and vanished. Judge''s eyes widened in surprise, trying to locate where she was, but all he could see was the ceiling near him. Was the ceiling always this close? He thought.

    He soon realized why he was about to hit the roof, Seraphis had given him a big ol'' smack to his temples. He teleported to the ground, and thought ''Uh oh! I screwed up big time didn''t I''.

    She was strong, maybe stronger than his mother. But he couldn''t give up, he summoned a cane for a dramatic flair. He stomped it on the floor and snapped his fingers for that extra flair. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Suddenly, the entire place vanished, leaving a long and unending black plain, with a moon behind him. Seraphis, wasting no time, lunged at Judge with her sword aimed at Judge''s heart. "Another change of scenery? I prefer this one more."

    Judge summoned a sword and activated his EC, Seraphis'' movements slowed down, it was still fast but he could dodge them, he blocked any attack that had less force behind it, but even those swings were heavy.

    The air swirled around and sparks flew as they fought, Seraphis with her relentless, powerful attacks and Judge, with even more speed and keen observation. The fight ensued on, as both of them started to use ether.

    Seraphis extended her left hand, the red gem on her glove shined. A reusable catalyst! Judge stepped back, and back again as she rushed towards him. Seraphis pointed her hand at him and flicked. "Blow away!"

    Judge got blasted away, he had to create a wall behind him to not go any further, but even the wall was shattered. Luckily he lost momentum and was able to land properly. He dusted his coat and stood up, only to be immediately be engaged in another sword clash.

    Ashen was a sword with a sleek design, it was as thin as a katana. To produce that much power from a sword that thin, Seraphis is a monster. Judge was clearly losing, and she hadn''t even unsheathed her sword yet.

    The clash went on with Judge thinking of possible solutions, all while listening to her nagging. "The stance is incorrect", "a little more to the right", "You call that a swing?"

    "What are you? My teacher?" Judge snapped, he couldn''t take it anymore.

    "We will see," Seraphis smiled as she went in for another strike.

    "What?!" Judge wasn''t expecting that answer, "Just so you know, I don''t need teachers."

    But she did not respond, instead, she was more enthusiastic about clashing swords, well... scabbard against sword.

    Judge, could not fight longer, he had to go find his mother. He needed to know more about the mystery of why the egg appeared here alone. His mother would never endanger him, even with an egg as hard as this, she would not have left him alone. She might be in danger.

    Seraphis swung her sword again, but this time, it hit him straight and square on his upper chest, setting him sprawling away. But this time he made a thicker wall, which cracked but stopped him in his tracks.

    This time instead of sprawling straight at him, Seraphis raised her left hand, and the red gem started glowing, she started to concentrate her ether on the tip of her fingers, "Breaker", she said in a calm voice. Sending forward a wave of white energy that swirled as it propelled forward.

    He decided to use a risky move, which was the principle of nothing, which he still had not understood completely, but he knew the basics. He raised his hand, and opened his palm "NIHILITY" He screamed.

    Judge and Seraphis both looked at the scene surprised, her attack had just vanished, as if she had just shot a confetti popper and the little pieces were all scattered. But her calm demeanor did not fade.

    "Alright let''s stop this, you are sent here by the deity of stories are you not?" She sheathed her sword.

    "WHAT?!" Was all he could muster before cracks started appearing on the void that seemed endless. He did not need a lot of time to understand why there was cracks forming. Nihility, the art of nothing, as it name suggests, creates a space of nothing, and ether seeps in to repair the space.

    His whole studio needed ether to sustain, and it could not handle lesser amount of ether inside, so the ether that seeped inside the pocket of nothing was absent from keeping up the studio.

    Judge teleported both of them back before asking his question, "How do you know the Deity of stories?"

    He was sure that this world had separate gods and she was one above them. There was no way that Seraphis have met Clio, unless he was missing a crucial information on how the gods worked. He needed answers.

 Chapter 31 - 31: OK now for the not funny part

    Melina woke up and looked around, she was inside a thick forest, but it was not Devfronds, she knew the extremely thick and really tall trees all too well. She was back in her hometown, the one she had abandoned a long time ago, the land of Elves. Getting back to her hometown was the least pleasant experience for her.

    "Who is there?" Someone called out, it was a young male voice, probably an elf knight, he might be out on patrol. "If you won''t answer, I will shoot." the voice shouted again.

    Shoot? Haa, She laughed internally, elves were the only ones who refused to change into steam or ether rifles just because ''It kills the sacred tradition of using a bow''.

    She got up and turned around, getting out to the clearing, looking for the source of voice. To her surprise, the young man was holding an ether powered rifle. Now that was an unexpected development, Melina had left the village because of the traditions. She hated the word, even saying the word filled her with great discomfort.

    Had they now abandoned the traditions and embraced technology? Anger and grief were boiling inside her. The day she had left the village was still buried deep in her mind, out of all the mixed feelings, only one thing stood out, and it was regret.

    Regret of not running away early, the regret of letting go of the person she cared about most. She could not think of a good memory from this place. It had been almost two centuries since she had left.

    "You... An elf?" The young man lowered his gun slightly as soon as he saw her face, but he was still ready to take up his arms, always being on guard was the basics of combats taught to the younger generation.

    "Identify yourself, which village are you from."

    Melina didn''t like the commanding tone he was using. She had to get back to Eleyn, but she couldn''t teleport from here, not out of the land of elves, unless she had the permission of the tree spirits, which she had no way to get in the current predicament she was in. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Teleporting inside was easy if either one knew of the coordinates, or if one messes up the coordinates and accidentally teleports here. Random teleports also work but nobody uses them due to the risks.

    "I am called Melina, I used to live in this village a long time ago." She walked forward, "I mean you no harm." She needed to get out of here, and to get the permission of the tree spirits, only one person can do that in a village, and she hated him.

    She could''ve faked her identity as a wandering elf, but that would actually lessen her chances of getting the spirits'' permission. "There should be elders who would know me."

    "But you look pretty young to me Miss, won''t there be anyone else who would know you?" The young elf was skeptical, she looked at most 50 years old, and the elders were as old as 250 years. Yet she says only the elders would be able to recognize her, he could feel something very fishy.

    "I would take that as a compliment." Melina mustered up a smile. "Now if you would please call any elder, or the chief." ''Chief'' was a hard word for her to say, the chief was the man who took everything from her. "You just need to speak my name, I am sure they would come here."

    "Please wait here I will call the elders." He decided the best course of action was to call the elders, since there was no way he could figure things out on his own.

    Just after he had left, another elf took his place, but he wasn''t very welcoming and was open with his discomfort of being near her.

    Melina did not mind as those factors did not affect her, and he was not talking to her, which was a huge relief for her.

    Soon enough, five elderly elves appeared together with the young elf. "Oh Gaia, mother of nature, it is you, it is really you." Four of them exclaimed, all happy and excited. The last one however had tears running down his face, he was so overwhelmed with emotions that he was unable to utter a single word.

    But Melina''s face said otherwise, she had disgusted look on her face,

    "Father," She said in an angry tone, unable to bottle up her fury, almost two hundred years had passed and the emotions she was hiding inside her all these years resurfaced.

    "Melina, my daughter, you have returned." His face was filled to the brim with happiness. He tried to hug her, but she refused, pushing him away. Surprising the young elf, she had pushed away the chief, but the other elders were calm, like they had already anticipated this.

    "You are not my father, not after all that had happened." Melina appeared angry, and she was, extremely so.

    "Sweetheart that happened two hundred years ago, I know it is hard to but, can you not forgive me."

    "Forgive you? You want me to forgive you?" She started shouting "After all these years, after all that you did to me. Aren''t you happy that you kept the tradition alive?"

    Tears started to roll down her face, "After you killed him to keep the tradition. Aren''t you happy you kept the tradition? Aren''t you happy that you broke me? My whole world? And yet you seek forgiveness?" She wiped her tears, but more came to replace them.

    Her father, or anyone else present could not speak. "You know, I never wanted to come here. I ended up here in a random teleportation, and I wish to live this hell, I don''t want to see your face."

    "Melina," Her father''s happy face was all gone, he now looked pathetic, like a broken man, only a shell of his former self. "I won''t ask for you to trust or understand me, but please¡ª will you forgive this dying old man."

 Chapter 32 - 32: Eleynâ€™s New Hobby: Speedrunning After Judge

    Judge had never fought this intense before, he could only hold out due to his enhanced cognition (EC just won''t cut it here). The lady in front of him, Seraphis, was really strong. All of her attacks were extremely heavy-hitting.

    "How do you know the Deity of stories?" He was still holding the egg, he sat down after putting it on the floor. "I did not know she even talked to people in this world."

    "You are also someone in this world aren''t ya?"

    Judge did not know how to answer her question. Doubts swirled in his mind, was he really supposed to be a person from this world? He was supposed to be someone who died and reincarnated without his memories, yet here he was.

    "Or are you from another world?" Seraphis had a smirk on her face.

    Suddenly! Someone teleported nearby, as if to give Judge another jumpscare even though his heart was beating as fast as it could.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Eleyn had wrapped up her fight, she stood on a mountain of burnt corpses. The city had been destroyed, not by cultists, but by the dragons who got a little too excited when they were fighting after a long time.

    She still could not teleport. What was Father doing? She decided to check on him and the artifact. She needed to get back to her baby quickly. Even if the egg was transported near any Phoenix, there was no guarantee that nobody else would take it.

    But the egg was hard, it would take at least The Brute Pheonix to even crack it, unless the egg goes through the proper process for a phoenix egg to hatch.

    She rushed off to the source of the artifact that Melina pointed out, "Speaking of Melina, where did she get teleported to? Well, it doesn''t matter since she can fend for herself pretty well."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Melina was sitting beside a table, there were only two people present in the room¡ª herself, and her father. There was a cup of tea on the table, it was steaming and looked very warm and inviting, but she did not take a single sip.

    "You still look just the way you looked when you left... my daughter." Melina''s father tried to ease the tension and put an end to the awkward silence.

    "Never call me your daughter, never again." Her face was full of disgust, "Only my father used to call me that, and that loving father I once admired is no more, he had died, a long time ago."

    "Melina, I am a man a half feet inside death''s door, my only wish is to seek your forgiveness. I know what I did was not something I should ask forgiveness for, but I did it for the sake of the village."

    "For the village? Had anyone but you been against it? And when you felt like you were about to lose..." Tears started to swell up again, it was a painful memory. "You killed him, you killed Valor. He was my everything, and you broke me." She slammed on the table, spilling the warm tea, "Just because he was a vampire."

    "I am sorry Melina, I just..." He shook his head, "I was drunk okay, I was not thinking straight, and when I was sober¡ª you had already left."

    "Drunk or sober does not matter, I would leave the place if you could let me have the spirit''s permission." She got up and went to the door, "And what of the tradition, I saw a guard using an ether rifle, I wonder if you still keep the tradition of not marrying people of other races."

    She went out without waiting for her father''s reply, slamming the door on her way out, leaving her father to himself.

    As she got out of the chief''s house, someone was waiting for her, patiently. She was surprised to be greeted by a presence she never thought she could see again.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Eleyn reached the ridge behind the city, the place was her favorite spot whenever she was out for sightseeing. There was her father-in-law Gereon, trying to make sense of the artifact like a baby curious about its new toy.

    "Father! Judge has been transported elsewhere, and I need to go there." She called out to the immersed old man, snapping him out of his bliss.

    "Just a minute Eleyn, this artifact has got really complicated mechanics, Melina might be able to solve it in a pinch." He looked at her, "But where is she?"

    "Got transported too, after the egg."

    "Well we might have to wait a bit if that is the case, after disabling this thing, I will go to Melina and you to Judge. Let''s look for Alex after that, I know he can fight for himself, but he had not been seen for a pretty long time for a short mission, and the cultists he was after already attacked us."

    Gereon combed his beard with his hand, "There is something more to this than what meets the eye."

    "Well! Whatever you say Father, but please make it quick"

    "I can try. But you should learn to sometime use your brain, you can''t brawl everywhere you know, there are limits." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Aldric, was kneeling in front of someone. It was dark, but the place was still visible, it looked like a cathedral. There were benches arranged for people to sit, and stone walls with statues of the god of night.

    "It is as you said," He looked up at the figure in front of him, "Everyone except me has died."

    "It does not matter, their souls will strengthen us more than when they were alive. Tell me, priest of light, how was the dragons." He had a coarse voice.

    "They were all strong, even the weaker ones were pretty powerful." He had a determined look on his face. "You were right, they must be vanquished, all dragons!"

    "Then you should attain higher amount of strength, I shall help you reach your goal. Remember, they killed our brethren."

    "As you command, what should I be doing¡ª Sir Senin, Apostle of the night."

 Chapter 33 - 33:

    Gereon stood up after a long while, he had disabled the artifact. Eleyn had not paid attention to what he was sitting on, but now that she did, he was sitting on a corpse. "This one is fascinating, it lets the wielder and any other designated user the power to teleport anyone anywhere, with the ether of those inside its veil. Very handy"

    "Fascinating," Eleyn deadpanned. "Can you teleport me to Judge now?"

    "Yeah, hold on" He took out his catalyst, a fancy transparent sphere with two gold rings around a black core. "Don''t forget your wand, the return trip would cost quite a heavy amount of ether."

    A blue light started to swirl around Eleyn, and before she could even roll her eyes at Gereon''s casual tone, she vanished.

    "Alright, now for Melina." He proceeded to teleport himself.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Back at the battlefield of awkwardness, Judge''s brain was having a meltdown. Seraphis had just asked, "Or are you from another world?"

    The question echoed in his head like a bad joke on loop. His heart raced like it was trying to break some obscure world record for the fastest heartbeat per minute (Seriously, could his internal organs chill for one second?).

    Her smirk wasn''t making it any better, it was like she knew something he didn''t, which¡ªlet''s face it¡ªwas very likely at this point.

    Just as Judge was trying to mentally hit "pause" on the chaos, things went from spicy to extra crispy: someone had teleported nearby, right behind the trees, far enough to stay hidden but close enough to throw more drama into the pot.

    "Seraphis?" A familiar voice cut through the tension like butter on a hot pan. Judge froze. He knew that voice. Oh no... please no...

    It was his mother.

    She came into view and her first reaction was not what he had expected, he wanted to go back into his studio, but the space was broken, and the fear of having to confront his mother dawned on him.

    Eleyn looked at him, surprised "Judge?" she gave him a sharp gaze, "Why does my baby exude a will with so much pressure?"

    Oh no... she recognizes me

    Judge was not expecting her to identify him, It is because of my will? He did not know how to control his will, so it was seeping out like a badly waterproofed fish tank.

    "Yep all me." That was what he wanted to say, but he did not dare utter a single word. His mouth had other plans. Now is NOT the time to freeze, buddy!

    "Yep, that''s your kid Eleyn, long time no see." Seraphis waved at her, but Eleyn rushed at judge, not the egg but to him in the clone body.

    "Why is my baby''s soul stuck in a mannequin?" she asked, placing her hand on his forehead. Warmth spread through him, and Judge immediately felt uncomfortable. Warmth? He preferred his chilly aura of confusion, thank you very much. But this warmth was... actually warm.

    "Uhh... Mom... You see..." Judge began, racking his brain trying to explain this forest fire of a situation.

    "It is quite a long story Eleyn, wanna head to my place? ya know my crib."

    "Yes, that would be better." Eleyn took the egg and the clone in her arms. "Let''s go." She bolted forward.

    "Wait not that way!" Seraphis sighed and facepalmed as she rushed behind her.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Two hundred years ago (More than two hundred, actually)-

    "You know Melina, When a person dies, it is said that their brain will play back their memories with the most important person in their lives. I heard it can last as long as a minute." It was a vampire, he had short black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

    "Please stop talking about death Valor, I want to leave the place, my father has found out about us. You know how much he values tradition."

    "Melina!" He turned to her, serious. "If I die, can you be the last person I see?" He smiled, and chuckled as she inflated her cheeks, looking at him angrily.

    "Can you say something other than about death? Seriously, you can Jinx it you know." She beat him playfully.

    "Haha, sorry Mel." He raised his hands to defend himself.

    ¡ª

    (Still two hundred years ago)

    "It has been a minute dear," An elf was talking to Melina, she was sitting with Valor in her arms.

    Melina slowly caressed his face, closing his eyes, "I hope he dreamed of me for a whole minute, as he had said." Tears were running down uncontrollably down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen.

    "That he surely had, Melina I know it is hard for you currently," The woman elf touched her back. "This would sound harsh to you, but this is something I also learned the hard way. When you learn to love someone, you should also learn to let go of them, as nothing lasts for ever."

    Melina sat there silently, crying. She did not speak, the room was silent except the crackling of a nearby fire and Melina''s heavy breathing.

    "Someone told me this sentence a long time ago," The woman slowly looked up, reminiscing. "When I first heard of it, I thought it was crazy, as long as I love someone dearly, I would not have the need to let them go, that was what I thought and believed. But one day, he left the world peacefully. And that''s when I realized what those words mean."

    "Aunt March," Melina said in a low, shaky voice. "I will leave the village. I will never return unless the traditions are changed and I hear the news of them."

    "I cannot persuade you to stay now, can I? After all, I doubt you would want to see your father again." Aunt March gave a painful smile. Melina, who was a kind young elf, has been broken into nothing but a shell of her former self.

    She very well knew that she couldn''t fix her, Melina had to do that herself. And her brother, Melina''s father, cannot be charged with any crime as he killed someone of another race, and also the fact that he was a chief added an extra bit of protection.

    She watched as Melina walked away, Valor''s corpse floating by her side. "That poor soul, she has been through a lot in the span of one day."

    S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 34 - 34: Selenas everyday life... Crashed?

    Selena was put down inside her crib, her little body wrapped in a cozy blanket, she looked like the world''s tiniest, cutest wizard.

    Outside, her father was in full warrior mode, training with swords that looked twice as big as her. It had only been a few days since she entered the world, but boy (girl), was it a whole new world from the last time.

    In this life, thanks to the ever-helpful deity of stories, she was born into a family that actually loved her. That was a huge upgrade from her past life, where she was pretty sure her family''s idea of bonding time involved talent competitions.

    The kicker? Her new parents knew she was a reincarnated baby. Yup, not your usual newborn experience. "Oh, look at our beautiful daughter! She''s so precious!" Also them: "By the way, did you know she''s lived before and has all these cool ether powers?"

    Totally normal, right? And to make things even more extra, the Deity of Stories had gone ahead and blessed her with the language of the phoenix, which, fun fact, was her actual race. How cool was that?

    She had heard her parents say that how much of a blessing she was for them. Selena couldn''t talk yet, but if she could, she''d probably say something like, "Well, I''m kind of a big deal." But for now, all she could do was lie there and bottle it up, as any self-respecting magical baby would.

    While speaking wasn''t on the menu, her ethercraft? Oh, that was a different story. She remembered it all, clear as day, from her first encounter with the deity.

    The blue hair, the blue eyes¡ªvery aesthetically pleasing, by the way¡ªwho had offered her three skills of her choosing. And the Phoenix language thing! Thanks, blue-haired Deity.

    When she was presented with a bunch of scrolls to pick her skills, she went straight for the second row like it was the dessert table at a buffet. She had asked very politely if she could skip the first row¡ªbecause those were for suckers, clearly¡ªand the kind deity was more than happy to oblige. The three golden tickets she picked were Edit, Ether Genius, and Psyche Genius.

    Now, Edit was a real gem. It let her mess with people''s minds, as long as their psyche wasn''t stronger than hers. Sure, the description said she could only control five people at once, but there was a little note at the back of the scroll saying that she could bump that number up if she had enough ether. Challenge accepted, she thought to herself.

    Their house was the perfect place to grow up as a phoenix child with world-altering powers. It was a cozy wooden cabin, nestled between a couple of giant trees, almost as if the forest had just decided to casually handcraft the most idyllic home possible.

    The walls were a warm oak, each beam etched with tiny runes that gave the place a warm glow at night, but she never felt hot.

    The windows were big, letting in soft sunlight that made the whole room feel like it was always late afternoon, the golden hour. Inside, everything was simple but sturdy. A big stone hearth sat in the middle of the main room, and the floor was covered in soft, woven rugs that made even crawling around seem like a luxury.

    She lived in a much better mansion, but it was as suffocating as it was luxurious. She was more happy in a warm wooden house rather than an extremely competitive mansion with threats in every corner.

    She could hear her father outside, probably swinging a sword at a training dummy like it had personally offended him. Life was peaceful, quiet, and¡ª

    Suddenly, the door crashed open. There went the peace.

    Her mom barged in, she looked as if she had just sprinted from the far end of the forest. And she wasn''t alone.

    Behind her came another woman, equally as rushed, but what really caught Selena''s attention was the bundle in the woman''s arms. No, scratch that¡ªbundles. One was a masked man in a suit, ''Was that standard in a fantasy world, or did her parents choose to live inside a forest in an industrial era? The man looked like he''d seen better days, and the other one in her hand was¡­ an egg?

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Melina couldn''t believe her eyes, March¡ª her aunt, was near deathbed when she left (''near'', not on deathbed), and here she was, standing as if she was just out on a stroll. Melina, couldn''t cry anymore, but if she did, she would have been crying the first tears of joy after coming back here. Without a second thought, she jumped into her aunt''s arms.

    "Oh, my girl, have you decided to come back?" March hugged her tightly, "Have you thought about what I said before you left?"

    Melina pulled herself away after a warm hug, she blinked once "You still remember that?"

    "Of course, it would be stranger if I did not. That was our last conversation was it not."

    Suddenly, another man appeared, he was not an elf. "Sorry, I brought him here as he said he was here to look for Melina." The young elf guardian who had blocked her before was escorting him.

    She looked at who it was, it was Gereon, the master whom she currently serve, as well as her teacher. "Patriarch Gereon," She gave him a slight bow, lifting her skirt slightly.

    "I was confident that wherever you got teleported to, you would be safe. But that doesn''t seem to be the case." Gereon knew about her past, and he had helped her heal, even though only slightly.

    The real one who had helped her build a new shell and come out of the void that was consuming her was Eleyn. Eleyn became her only friend after she had left the village.

    Melina was about to tell him about how teleportation out of the elves'' land was not possible without the permission of a tree spirit, but she heard a loud crash inside the chief''s house, grabbing everyone''s attention. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 35 - 35: Life is not all butterflies and flowers

    Melina sat near her father, he had a chronic illness that plagued him for the past five decades, and he had been holding on hoping to see his daughter one more time, just wanting to ask her for forgiveness. But now, all of his dreams had shattered, his strength was gone, and his willpower no longer was holding back the disease.

    Gereon was outside, he was speaking to March, Melina''s aunt. While he did not know her previously. he was pretty enthusiastic to meet someone his disciple always held close.

    "What kind of girl was she," Gereon decided to strike up the conversation. "When I first met her, she was like a cornered animal, a girl always on her guard. She even tried to attack me you know. But I could sense her sorrow, her pain, I then took her under my wing."

    "Melina huh?" March said as if she was reminiscing of the olden times. "She was the kindest and the most brilliant of the younger generation, our age gap was only about two decades, so we were more like sisters than anything. Always looking out for each other, always the first to lend a hand."

    "Then she''s really changed," He nodded "She has become a ruthless mage who does not show an inkling of kindness or mercy to her opponents. But to me and Eleyn, she is still that kind-hearted soul." He could not contain his smile, "She''s even taken to teaching the younger ones."

    "I am glad to hear that!" March''s eyes softened, "When she left, she was nothing but a broken soul, so much broken to the point that I did not know how to repair her. So I left her to her own choices, hoping she would find her way, though it pained me¡ª more than I could ever explain."

    Inside the room, the chief was having a conversation with his daughter, maybe his last conversation with her, ever. The last chance to bridge the gap between them, a bridge that had collapsed two centuries ago.

    "Daughter..." The chief was speaking with heavy breath, his face was a mix of sadness and lingering regrets.

    "I told you this before and I will tell you this again," Her eyes were cold and indifferent to the person on a deathbed in front of her. "My father had died two centuries ago, you are nothing but a stranger."

    "They say when you learn to love, you should also learn to let them go." He gave her a sad smile, but her face was still indifferent. "You were my only joy after your mother died... and after you left me... every day had been a hell for me."

    "I could not care less, you think I have been living in heaven after I left? No... It was the same for me too, it was hell." Her indifferent act was faltering. Happy memories she spent with her mother replaying itself in her mind, her father was with them, but she tried hard not to remember his old face.

    "They lied you know, when they said you have to learn to let go... After all, people will never learn to let go." He looked at her, "How could you... cough... love someone earnestly if you learn to let them go?... Only after they have left would you realize that... that they are gone, then you learn to cope."

    Melina looked as if she was still in tears, she was hesitant, she never completely disliked her father, she never could. But it was hard for her to accept her part which still loved the person who had killed her beloved.

    "Melina," he took her hand, "You don''t have to forgive me, but please, will you at least call me your father? You used to call me daddy before... you know... everything."

    Melina couldn''t hold back her tears anymore, the word struck her heart like a thorn, it was embarrassing, she was an old elf who was more than two and a half century old, yet how many times had she cried after coming here?

    Her cold, dry eyes began swelling up. Her father''s face became clear in her mind, the moments they had spent together.

    "Da... Dad-dy" She spoke with difficulty, "Dad I... most of me still hates you, but there is a small part which still wants to..." It was difficult for her to say the next word, "to love you,"

    She started to shed tears uncontrollably "A part that still wants to see you as my dear old father, a part which still wants to forgive you." She spoke through her tears, which ran down her cheeks and dripped off her chin,

    "I forgive you, Dad... And when you see Valor after you... after you die..." She closed her eyes and continued, her voice was breaking, But she mustered up a painful smile. "Please tell him that I am living happily."

    "Thank you... Melina, I am really glad... and I will tell Valor." And with that he closed his eyes, never to open them again, a happy smile on his face, a face with no regrets. He died like a man who had experienced everything life had to offer, and thus Melina''s father left the world, peacefully.

    ...

    ''You know Melina, When a person dies, it is said that their brain will play back their memories with the most important person in their lives." She remembered what Valor had said. ''I heard it can last as long as a minute.'' So she sat there, near her father''s lifeless body, for a whole minute. Hoping he would see the happy memories that they made together... one more time.

    March came in, together with Gereon, "He passed huh, I am quite sad." She said with a heavy smile. She wanted to cry, but she had lost her emotions a long while back "What were his last words? Mel?"

    "He said he was glad... I forgave him." She still did not get up.

    "It has been a minute Melina, I am sure had been seeing you and your mother. After all, you really look much like her."

    "Patriarch Gereon," Melina looked at Gereon, "Let''s leave after my father''s burial."

    "It would be discourteous to do otherwise, I would have stopped you if you were to leave before that." He gave her a comforting smile, the one that masters give when their disciple are going through a lot, in order to calm them.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    In another dimension, Clio sat on a throne, the place was completely dark, yet everything present was visible. "That was a good story with a lot of recording potential, should I give him a clone for just recording? He and Selena being a baby won''t currently help." She was talking to herself, weighing her choices. "And they still have to break free to world and out of that damn Night guy."

 Chapter 36 - 36: The great cameraman... Minus all the aura

    Judge''s head was spinning like a top in a hurricane, the kind of dizziness that usually ended with him hugging a toilet bowl. But of course, the whole vomiting thing was out of the question¡ªmostly because, well, he didn''t really have much of a stomach to speak of these days.

    He mentally wrote down a note for future improvements. "Add stomach to clone body. Maybe intestines, too. Possibly a liver. Could come in handy." Eating through a clone? That could be fun.

    He was going to need all the tricks he could get.

    Across from him, Eleyn dropped down onto the sofa, which, to Judge''s quiet disappointment, was entirely too normal for a dragon. Not a single inch of gold was in sight inside the house, he somehow felt ''normal''.

    "So¡ª" she began, rubbing her sore joints, "tell me, why is my child inside a mannequin? A very hard mannequin at that? I swear, I almost dislocated my joints trying to lift him and run all the way here."

    Seraphis let out a snort, practically rolling her eyes. "Dislocated your joints? You''re a dragon, Eleyn. A dragon. Dislocating your joints would be like... I don''t know, a rock complaining about a stubbed toe.

    I''d believe you more if you said your mannequin son defeated a Sky Talon."

    Judge bit his tongue, fighting the urge to blurt out, I did defeat a Sky Talon! At least the bird had to be one, since he did not know the names of monsters, he was quick to assume that was its name. Oh wait, Clio had told him about that bird, it was indeed sky talon.

    But saying that he had defeated a sky talon would only lead to more questions (well, it was more like a comedy show. And the bird retreated), and questions meant explanations, and explanations meant way more work than he wanted to deal with right now.

    He had bigger problems, like how to explain his current predicament. Maybe it was time to trust Seraphis, though that seemed riskier than jumping into an active volcano.

    "Hey," Seraphis suddenly turned to Eleyn, her tone casual but her words anything but, "You know your kid''s reincarnated, right? That''s not a shocker for you?"

    Eleyn blinked, looking genuinely confused for a moment. "One of them is. I know that much. Just not sure which one." She sighed, shrugging like it was no big deal. You know, standard parenting stuff¡ªcould be the reincarnated child, could just be regular old dragon offspring.

    "Well, congratulations. It''s this one." Seraphis motioned toward Judge like she was presenting a prize at a game show. "Story Deity, I''m guessing?"

    "Yep. Story Deity."

    Judge, who had been sitting there trying to stay as invisible as possible (which, ironically, was quite difficult when you were a sentient mannequin), couldn''t help but pipe up. "Wait, how do you know the Story Deity? Cli¡ª"

    "Judge," his mother''s voice cut through the air like a sharp knife, her eyes narrowing into that dangerous ''Mom Look'' that could pierce through a mountain. "Go back to your body. I still don''t know where you got this mannequin and mask from, but you''re going back. Now."

    Before Judge could protest, Seraphis interrupted, ever the instigator. "Hang on, Eleyn. Give him a break. It''ll take time to crack that egg anyway." She pointed to the egg in the corner, the one that Judge had entirely forgotten about in the middle of the chaos. "Besides, I''m curious too. How does he know about the Story Deity?

    Maybe she talked to him?"

    Right on cue, Seraphis'' husband barged in, sweaty and shirtless, clearly fresh from some sort of intense training session.

    His white hair was untidy, and every muscle in his body seemed to be showing off like it was auditioning for a role in an action movie, his red eyes were killing it.

    "Honey," Seraphis'' voice dropped to a dangerous low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine even if you were an immortal mannequin and didn''t have a spine, "Would it kill you to wear a shirt? You know, the loose ones I made for your training? Or are they just for show now?"

    Judge was absolutely certain that his day couldn''t get weirder. But hey, with dragons, reincarnation, and a shirtless muscle parade, who really knew anymore?

    "Heh sorry Ser," He rubbed his temples awkwardly. "I just wanted to enjoy the sunbathing. I''ll just get changed quickly." He hurried off. That was when he saw a crib, and a white-haired baby was sleeping peacefully inside it, are all babies born with hair?

    Judge, as intelligent as he was, quickly pieced together some information. Clio had told him that he would meet his colleague sooner than expected, and both Seraphis and his mother knew about The story Deity, Aka, Clio.

    So if he were to make an educated guess, Seraphis'' baby was the colleague Clio spoke of. And Clio had notices of their arrival to both of their parents. There was no other way that Clio had spoken to people from this world.

    "The story Deity had spoken to me after I married Alex, she told me that one of my children would be a child from my previous life. I guess Judge used to be my child in my previous life." S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge, though he just thought of this scenario, was still surprised to hear that. Clio was breaking all the stereotypes of a typical reincarnation story, it felt illegal for some reason.

    "She said the same to me, but was a little more direct. She said my firstborn will be a reincarnated soul." They both had a nonchalant tone when they were speaking of this, making Judge wonder if these were normal.

    "I will return to the egg, but please get me out quickly, Mom." Judge (Clone) left for his studio without waiting for a reply, he wanted to see the repair progress, but he just left without checking.

    Judge dreamed of the sweetest dream, he was swimming in money, everyone was bowing to him. The people who was against him were no longer against him, because they could not protest from inside a grave.

    Judge finally stood inside a luxurious office, which was inside a tall skyscraper. He could see the entire city from his office, he was drinking wine and laughing like a maniac¡ª wait... Wine?

    The sweet dream of his was shattered, warmth spread all over him, he screamed as he opened his eyes.

    He was inside the egg, but the shell was broken, and he could still feel the warmth from below, he looked around. The scene was horrifying, there was fire all around him, like he was put inside a hot pot, but in an egg.

    "Oh, my baby is crying." Eleyn rushed to him.

 Chapter 37 - 37: Why My Family Doesnâ€™t Do Normal

    Judge finally got his meal after what felt like the longest day in existence. Seriously, the day had stretched so far, that it probably took ten chapters to cover (maybe even more ¡ª I am too lazy to check). He was just happy to finally get some rest, even if the rest involved being fed like a baby, which, inconveniently, he currently was.

    Just as things were starting to feel somewhat normal (as normal as things could get for a reincarnated baby), the door flew open with a crash (not that hard but, come on), and Seraphis stormed in, carrying her own baby in one arm and what looked like excitement in the other. Judge almost choked on his milk. Not that he could, but the thought was there.

    "Judge!" Seraphis called his name, her tone making him think twice about maintaining eye contact. Hearing someone call you by your name while trapped in the body of an actual newborn was quite unsettling. "Where did you get that mannequin, and where did you hide it?"

    Eleyn, his ever-protective mother, shot her a glare sharp enough to cut through the air. "Sera, my baby is finally resting after a long day, and here you are, interrupting him. And for what? So you can talk about mannequins?"

    Seraphis wasn''t backing down, though. She sighed, adjusting the baby in her arms. "Look, I didn''t know he was a newborn. I mean, have you seen how well he fights? Honestly, you should spar with him when you get the chance. I was impressed!

    Plus, have I mentioned how arrogant and disrespectful he was during the fight?"

    Eleyn''s expression softened into a dangerously sweet smile, which usually meant trouble. "He''s my child, Sera. He can be as arrogant and disrespectful as he likes, especially when it comes to enemies. Who are you to complain?"

    Seraphis crossed her arms, very irritated. "Of course. Why am I not surprised?"

    Judge, meanwhile, was practically screaming inside his own head. Why is my reincarnated baby self the topic of conversation? Can I just eat my meal in peace without someone dragging my name through the mud?

    But before he could telepathically send a complaint to the universe, another figure entered the room¡ªSeraphis'' husband, Corwin, looking like he''d been pulled straight out of a heroic ballad. Muscles? Check. The perfect amount of sweat to seem rugged yet not gross? Double-check. Shirt?

    Yeah, right. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Corwin sighed dramatically, clearly used to this kind of thing. "Could both of you please stop arguing? There are two children in this room, and somehow, the actual adults are acting more childish than the babies."

    "Sorry, Corwin," Eleyn said with a smirk. "Must be tough living with such an immature wife every day. Poor little Selena." She chuckled.

    Corwin chuckled too, shrugging like it was no big deal. "You get used to it. Besides, she''s got that whole ''angry but lovable'' thing going for her."

    Before Judge could even process this exchange, the room filled with laughter, the kind you only get from family gatherings where everyone''s been through some ridiculous stuff together.

    It was warm, it was lively, and it was dangerously close to wholesome¡ªsomething Judge wasn''t entirely comfortable with.

    His days were typically filled with more "silent scheming" and "I-swear-this-contract-won''t-ruin-your-life" moments. You know, the classics, not laughing along with half-dressed pheonix and dragons.

    But this was not half bad, he was longing for an atmosphere like this, all while hiding behind the pain of reality. Yeah, it was safe to assume that he did not live a fulfilling life. He wanted this moment to last for ever.

    ¡ª

    Why am I here? It was the first thought that came to his mind.

    Judge was in his studio, he checked the condition properly, it had repaired by itself. He was now inside the throne room, except there was no throne. He could feel the intense glare of his mother from the side. The kind of glare that made grown warriors reconsider their life choices.

    "So, you are able to make adjustments to your own body while you are inside this... Sudio of yours?"

    "Studio" Judge corrected her.

    "Yes studio," she said, rolling her eyes. "so can you adjust other''s body too?"

    "If they sign a contract with me. I am not sure as I have not tried it yet." Judge felt uncomfortable lying to his mom, but he could make a guess on who he would be signing the contract with and adjust the body of¡ª if that was possible.

    Seraphis held Selena, the white haired baby, close to her. "What kind of contract is it?"

    Judge swallowed, Here we go. "This might sound weird," He began, mentally preparing himself, "but it is a contract that lets the contracted act strictly in a drama according to the script I write."

    The awkward silence that followed was... Awkward.

    His mother blinked. Seraphis blinked. Even Corwin, who was probably used to bizarre conversations, looked slightly confused. Judge internally cringed. Wow, great pitch there, genius.

    He did not lie but he did not speak the whole truth, but he knew she would not be convinced with this.

    "I got the skill from the deity of stories."

    "Figures"

    "It has a truth effect, which means if I cannot fulfill the conditions I set, I cannot give you the contract. So, there is no harm in trying."

    Seraphis was not convinced, but Corwin stepped up, placing a comforting hand on his wife''s shoulder. "I trust Eleyn''s child, even more so if they were her child in the previous life too. So I trust you." Making his wife sigh.

    "So how do we go about this? Don''t tell me you are gonna make my child hold a pen and actually sign, she isn''t even a week old."

    "Don''t worry, she only has to accept it with her mind." Judge tried to summon a contract, "I promise to change your appearance to your older self or in any form you desire." To his surprise and fulfilling everyone else''s expectations, a contract sheet was summoned.

    "Now Selena, only accept it if you want, and like the conditions, we won''t force anything upon you," Corwin said.

    Yeah, folks, that was a father''s conversation with his one-week-old baby. Don''t be so irresponsible like Corwin or clueless like Seraphis.

 Chapter 38 - 38: Gugu gaga! And other baby jargons

    Selena was having none of it. "Uh, do I get a say in this?" she wanted to ask, but her brand-new baby mouth decided to say, "Gugu gaga gu." Wow, truly revolutionary. If there was an award for the least useful baby speech of the century, she was definitely a nominee.

    She was starting to wonder if reincarnating as a baby in a magical world was really the dream she thought it would be. Her new parents were doting, sure, but now they were talking about signing a contract.

    It was literally her first week of life in this weird fantasy realm, and already the paperwork was piling up. Couldn''t a baby catch a break? Where was her union rep? Not that she ever had one.

    But when her dad tuned in, saying the choice was totally up to her or something along those lines.

    Selena felt something she hadn''t felt in her entire first (or second) life: freedom of choice. No forced deals, no dodgy contracts. Well, sort of. She was still a baby, and also, her dad was a half-naked phoenix, but small wins, right?

    So, she went ahead and accepted the contract. Why not? What''s the worst that could happen? All she had to do was follow some guy''s script. Easy peasy. Plus, the word "drama" was tossed around, and who didn''t love a little theatrics?

    Surely it couldn''t be more stressful than her last job as a reincarnated cameraman.

    Although, now that she thought about it, she probably should''ve asked a few more questions. Like, what kind of drama are we talking about here?

    Once she accepted, Selena, feeling oddly confident for someone who couldn''t even hold her head up yet, mentally screamed, "Okay, I''m in! Now make me bigger!"

    What actually came out was, "Gugu gaga gu." Impressive. Just peak baby nonsense.

    Judge, being the annoyingly calm guy he was, decided to up the drama with a flourish. "You will now be known as Michael, the Virtue of Humility!" he boomed like he was announcing the latest contestant on a magical game show. Humility? Really? Her? And was that guy really supposed to be only days older than her? S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Judge! What''s with the name?" Her mom, bless her phoenix soul, jumped in with the mom energy she didn''t know she needed.

    "Don''t worry," Judge said, probably too casually for someone handing out life-altering names. "It just means she''s contracted to me."

    Her mom narrowed her eyes, clearly not entirely sold on that. But for some reason, she let it slide. "I trust your words."

    She could not believe her mother just sold her out like that. And then the weirdness started.

    First, Selena found herself floating. Was this normal baby behavior? Floating around like a helium balloon at a birthday party?

    Her body began to glow, not in the "radiant with happiness" way, but more like "someone plugged me into a socket." She was straight-up turning into a fancy magical lightbulb, and if this were a commercial, they''d be calling it "new and improved, now with extra wattage!"

    Then, in a burst of pure fantasy-world over-the-top flair, Selena transformed into a young woman. Not just any young woman¡ªshe was like the most glamorous woman at 18, with long flowing hair, glowing skin, and clothes that looked like they were designed by the most pretentious tailor in the land.

    A mirror appeared out of nowhere (because of course it did), and she got a full look at herself. "Okay," she thought, "this isn''t too bad. Definitely an upgrade from the whole diaper situation."

    But then Judge, ever the master of pushing buttons, had to go and say, "You can change things as you wish. Just will it. You can even create a mannequin if you want. You can share a part of my powers now that you''ve signed a contract. A part¡ªI repeat, only a part," he said, emphasizing the limits like a shady salesman who swears the warranty only covers the left half of your toaster.

    Selena''s eyes lit up like a kid who just found out they could eat candy for breakfast. "Wow, really?" Selena was excited to talk for the first time in this world.

    Meanwhile, Judge was trying to keep his cool, he was quite confused, and he was not expecting the contract to work. "Which just shows that Clio has left many things for me to ponder on," he said, internally.

    He still had many things left to figure out about his skill. But hey, mysteries could wait. Right now, he needed to focus on growth¡ªmentally, physically, and, let''s be honest, emotionally.

    The road to self-discovery had begun, and it involved way more glowing transformations than he had anticipated.

    After Selena had adjusted her shape to her liking, Judge canceled Studio and everyone was back. Back to reality, he thought, ready to put his feet up and enjoy a quiet and relaxed moment for the first time in... well, ever. But the universe had other plans.

    "Judge, do you do ethercraft or weapons?" Eleyn asked, not much of a Mom question to ask, but it was Eleyn, a dragon, and her baby. She could probably turn making a cup of tea into a training montage.

    Judge blinked, this wasn''t the usual "Did you eat?" or "Are you warm enough?" No, this was dragon parenting, where "Do you need a weapon?" replaced "How was school today?"

    "I usually go for ether," he said, thinking about how much he relied on his abilities. "But after that spar with Seraphis, I think I''m starting to like the sword."

    Judge was not the optimal role model of a baby either, but it was Judge, a dragon, and his mother. He was slowly adjusting, and he was taking pride in that.

    "Oh, then you should train under Sera then," Eleyn, clearly not one for small talk, nodded like she was reviewing battle strategies, not discussing the hobbies of her newborn son. "I would gladly train Selena, I could sense her huge reserve of ether, and me being a witch and both Selena''s parents being brutes with swords, I think it would be better if I tried her."

    They were both talking so casually that it felt like they were having a normal afternoon cup of tea, discussing current affairs and nuclear war codes (Yes normal). And it was still morning.

    "Yes, Mom... Wait! Train?" Judge was not liking where this was going.

 Chapter 39 - 39: The Art of Saying â€˜Wait, What?â€™ When Youâ€™re Supposed to be a Genius

    "Yes, Mom... Wait! Train?" Judge was starting to feel a sinking pit in his stomach, the kind of dread usually reserved for horror stories or surprise math exams, and why was it always math?

    There it was. The "T-word." Training. Judge''s mind spiraled back to memories of his previous life, where "training" was more like a motivational seminar with way too many push-ups. Maybe a bit of meditation, a sprinkle of mana exercises, and, of course, a hefty dose of yelling. But here? In this world?

    Training had a new, more terrifying definition. One that rhymed with PAIN. And lots of it.

    Eleyn, casually waving off his growing panic like it was no big deal, said, "Oh, don''t act so surprised. You didn''t expect to get stronger just sitting around, did you?"

    Sitting around? Yes. Yes, he had expected that, in fact. Judge had grown quite fond of the idea of lounging, plotting in peace, maybe sipping some metaphorical tea while quietly mastering the world from a comfortable chair.

    Nowhere in his grand life plans did "grueling sword training" feature. Yet, here he was. But he knew better than to say NO to his mom.

    He wanted to complain but swallowed it down like bitter medicine. He hadn''t technically signed up for this, right? Well, okay, maybe he had signed a contract or two without reading the fine print, but nowhere did it say, "Prepare to have your entire existence revolve around boot camp."

    He cursed himself for accepting Clio''s proposal, he could imagine her sitting back and eating some popcorn, enjoying the show.

    This was not how he imagined his next few weeks (or centuries) going, his grand plan for being a mastermind with a camera was shattering, right before his eyes.

    And by the look on Selena''s still-glowing face, she wasn''t exactly thrilled about this turn of events either. Her radiant transformation suddenly felt like a raw deal.

    Seraphis, who was watching this whole scenario unfold with way too much excitement, chimed in like a game show host who had just announced the bonus round. "Oh, don''t worry! My training''s a breeze."

    A breeze? Something about her smile suggested otherwise. It was the kind of smile you''d expect from someone who found joy in watching people trip on banana peels. Or survive obstacle courses... without a helmet.

    "We''ll start with basic swordsmanship," Seraphis continued, her grin now somehow even wider. "Then, if you manage not to collapse, we''ll move on to advanced combat techniques. And if you''re still breathing after that, real sparring. You would get pretty good with sword if you manage to survive."

    Judge felt a cold chill travel down his spine. Survive? Did she just say survive? He was still a baby with an adjusted body, not an action hero! This wasn''t going to be some light stretching or an energetic game of tag. No, this sounded like a crash course in medieval survival skills where the final test was...

    staying alive.

    Selena, her glow dimming slightly, shot her mother a pleading look. "Do I have to?" Her baby face said, I signed up for magic powers, not a full-body workout. It was like signing up for a painting class only to be told, "Surprise! You''re also learning to wrestle bears."

    Eleyn, however, was as unbothered as ever, smiling down at Selena with that sweet-yet-deadly parental affection. "Oh, darling, this is just the beginning. Soon, you''ll be able to fend off monsters, swing a sword, and outsmart any enemy."

    Monsters? Swords? Enemies? What happened to finger painting and storytime? Judge tried to muster some sympathy for Selena, but it was hard when he had his own doomsday looming. He almost pitied her.

    Almost. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge''s mental checklist was in shambles. What once was a to-do list with "conquer the world" neatly at the top was now revised to: 1. Survive Phoenix mom''s boot camp. 2. Negotiate fewer life-threatening activities. 3.

    Grow stronger, but, like, maybe without all the bruises?

    As Eleyn and Seraphis started discussing his and Selena''s rigorous futures like they were planning a fun weekend getaway, Judge realized his "relaxed life" was officially and permanently canceled. No refunds.

    And just as he was contemplating escape routes, an odd thought popped into his head, the kind that strikes you late at night when you''re staring at the ceiling, overthinking and worrying about everything and nothing at the same time, all while you are just trying to get some sleep.

    His mom and Seraphis had mentioned how intimidating his presence was¡ªsomething about his willpower. Corwin hadn''t said anything, though, and Selena, for some reason, seemed immune to it. Why was that? He remembered how his mother had touched his forehead earlier, warmth spreading through him like a cozy blanket on a cold day.

    "Was it then?" he muttered under his breath, piecing it together like a detective in a mystery novel. His best guess? His mother had somehow sealed away his intimidating aura, the one he''d been struggling to control. Typical dragon mom. Always two steps ahead. (Not a Nikocado Avocado reference)

    So now, in addition to everything else, Judge had a mystery to solve: Why did I agree to this again? He could imagine Clio just sitting back on her throne, eating popcorn.

    But before he could dwell too much on that, Seraphis clapped her hands. "Alright! Training starts tomorrow at dawn!"

    Dawn? Judge''s soul cried out in agony. Why did all evil plans involve waking up early?

    His mother was no better, "Let me tell Father about this, he said we have to look for Alex."

    "Alex? What happened to that monster."

    "Dunno, he is been gone for a pretty long time. no contact, bet he is just fooling around." Eleyn turned to Corwin. "Corwin, can you go with my father to look for him?"

    "Are you worried about Alex?" He chuckled, "I will be more worried about his enemies."

    "I know but Father is prettyyy... you know-" Eleyn shook her head.

    "Oh! Then it would be a great show to watch." He was having a heartfelt laugh, the one that made everyone around him smile brighter.

    "And don''t forget to tell him that I will be staying in your house for a week or two." He gave her a thumbs-up, hugged Selena, and left.

    Then he came back, wore a shirt, and then left again. "You sure he is alright?" Judge''s question was unanswered and was instead met with three sharp gazes.

 Chapter 40 - 40: Hawthornes Guide to Looking Innocent While Being Vaguely Mysterious

    Hawthorne sat in front of his mercenary commissioner, the nobleman was having a doubtful expression on his face, the expression that said, I cannot trust you but I do not understand why. He had a gut feeling that Hawthorne was hiding something, but he could not tell what... Yet.

    He wanted to lash at him for not telling it, The nobleman''s brow went down deeper. He wanted to demand answers, to shout, "Tell me what you''re hiding, knave!" But unfortunately for him, Hawthorne had done his part. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He had brought the diary, as promised, and without so much as a smudge on it. So, the nobleman was left sitting in silence, chewing on his suspicions like a particularly tough piece of meat, maybe it''s a piece of chewing gum, you never know.

    The room they sat in did little to lift the mood. It was, in a word, depressing. The kind of room that would make even a moth feel out of place. The walls were as bare as a winter forest, and the only source of light was a sad little kerosene lamp sitting in the corner.

    That kerosene lamp was, in this room, the only decoration to speak of, and those were used only by the poor. Even a middle-class family always used ether lamps, as it was better in every aspect expect cost. It was more efficient, brighter, and infinitely less... bleak. But no, here they were, bathed in the gloomy glow of poverty''s favorite light source.

    The nobleman, still eyeing Hawthorne like he was a puzzle missing several key pieces, finally broke the silence. "Is this everything? No separate papers? No hidden codes or secret principles scrawled on the back of any paper?"

    "This is all," Hawthorne said, as calm as if he were discussing the weather. He picked up the diary and flipped to the last page, tapping his finger on a rather messy lines here and there, along with a crude writing.

    "I think this here is the principle you''re looking for. Though, I must confess, it''s written in a language I don''t recognize. Might be something ancient or... just really bad handwriting."

    The nobleman took the diary, suspicion practically leaking out of his ears at this point. His gut was now demanding he throw Hawthorne in the stocks for a good old-fashioned interrogation, but alas, noble decorum held him back.

    He knew better than to lose his temper, even when every fiber of his being screamed that something was off. Control was, after all, the cornerstone of noble life. That, and pretending to like pheasant meat at feasts.

    Nevertheless, the nobleman wasn''t going to give Hawthorne a free pass. With his elbows resting on the table and his fingers interlocked, he assumed the stance of a man who was about to disclose universal insights.

    His tone was composed and calm, but with a hint of terrible things to come if the next response was not sufficient. "Mister Hawthorne, I do not doubt your credibility¡ª"

    Oh, but he does, Hawthorne thought, leaning forward slightly, he knew where this was going.

    "¡ªBut just for the sake of clarity, allow me to ask you this one thing." The nobleman''s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a highly secret, undercover whisper, despite the fact that no one else was in the room. "Can you swear on Lord Veritas, the god of truth? You know... to really seal the deal."

    I knew it! Hawthorne suppressed a groan. Of course, he had to bring Veritas into this. The god of light and truth wasn''t exactly known for his flexibility when it came to bending the facts. But still, Hawthorne wasn''t about to let this nobleman think him untrustworthy. That would be bad for business.

    Raising his right hand with all the grace of a man who''d done this far too many times, Hawthorne declared, "On the name of Lord Veritas, the god of light and truth, I swear that this is the truth. I have brought the diary exactly as I found it.

    I have not taken a single paper containing a principle or anything that my commissioner has paid for." His palm was open, it signifies the speaker''s truthful promise and intentions.

    The nobleman stared at him for a long, unbearable moment, the gears in his head turning like a rusty clockwork. Not realizing the awkward silence he was creating.

    Finally, he leaned back, his suspicion shrinking just a tad. Well, no one would lie under the oath of Veritas, unless they fancied being set ablaze on the spot, and as far as he could tell, Hawthorne wasn''t smoking.

    "I believe you, then," the nobleman finally said, clapping his hands. A butler materialized from the shadows, which was impressive, given that the only shadow in the room was the one cast by the sad little kerosene lamp. The butler was the picture of elegance in a room that could''ve used a good dusting two years ago, carrying with him a cheque.

    The nobleman scribbled his name with an air of someone far too accustomed to signing things without reading them first, then tore off a cheque for 200 sten. "Here is your commission." He slid it across the table like it was no big deal.

    Hawthorne took the cheque without missing a beat, though inside, he couldn''t help but marvel at the sheer absurdity of it all. Two hundred sten! That was a small fortune. Families of four could live off four or five sten a month. And here he was, holding a piece of paper that could feed a village for a year¡ª small village he meant.

    "Thank you, my lord," Hawthorne said, keeping his tone neutral. Inside, however, his mind was already doing the math. That''s enough to buy a small island. Or at least several barrels of the finest wine... Decisions, decisions.

    The nobleman gave a frank nod, clearly still pondering over his own suspicions. Hawthorne could tell the man wasn''t entirely convinced, but for now, he had no reason to complain. And that was just how Hawthorne liked it.

    The nobleman left, the room was in stark contrast to his black carriage. It was adorned with all kind of luxurious decor. Hawthorne silently pocketed his cheque and headed for the bank.

 Chapter 41 - 41: The Art of Avoiding Chores: Alexs Guide

    Alex Drakonis, the man who was supposed to be chained and held in some dark, dirty room, and held on top of a rather large runic circle, was instead lounging in a luxurious inn, sipping tea as though his life was some endless vacation.

    His view? The bustling cityscape, complete with airships called Cloud Weavers floating about, transporting people and goods in a manner that seemed far too casual for giant, gravity-defying vessels. One would think a man fighting a cult would be more... concerned.

    That''s right¡ªhe was supposed to be battling a cult. Or at least, that''s what Alex had convinced himself, right up until the moment he realized it wasn''t a cult at all. Nope, he had (Not) mistakenly picked a fight with a rather well-respected church. Oops. Could happen to anyone, right?

    This particular church was dedicated to the god of night, a mysterious deity whose followers kept their god''s true name under wraps like it was the punchline to some godly joke.

    They would only refer to their deity as "The God of Night," as if saying the actual name would get them a stern talking to. But Alex, being the stubborn dragon he was, had snooped it out of them like a kid sneaking an extra cookie. And he soon understood why.

    "Tenebris. The god of night and false realities," Alex muttered to himself, taking a casual sip from his elaborate teacup. "The god of false realities," he repeated with a raised brow. "I mean, come on, that name just screams ''bad guy.'' Who worships a god whose specialty is making up stuff?"

    But many of the citizens prayed to the god of night when they were headed out at night, it was to keep them protected at night.

    And let''s just say that it was doing a good job, but it was due to some other factors, like a low crime rate and other minor details like natural disaster predictions.

    He was halfway through his third sip, thinking about the logistics of fighting a god that could probably convince him he was a chicken at any given moment, when he felt a familiar, hair-raising presence nearby (If he had hair, other than on his head). The tea, which had been pleasantly soothing a moment ago, suddenly tasted like a terrible idea.

    "Alex¡­" came a voice that somehow managed to be both menacing and warm at the same time. Only one person in his life had that unique gift.

    "Uh, yes, Dad?" Alex replied, nearly choking on his tea, like if that was even possible, as he tried to jump to attention without looking like a guilty child who had just been caught raiding the cookie jar.

    Gereon Drakonis, his father¡ªlegendary, powerful, and the very embodiment of "disappointed dad energy"¡ªstood before him, looking suspiciously calm.

    "It''s the real you this time, right? Not another one of those¡­ what do you call them again?" Gereon asked, narrowing his eyes.

    Alex straightened up, trying to look as real -like as possible. "Yes, Dad, it''s really me!" He forced a smile that might as well have come with its own caption reading: Please don''t ground me into the dust.

    Just like how Judge was scared of his mother, Alex was scared of his father. Both father and son alike, except the father was yet to see the baby.

    Gereon didn''t seem convinced. In fact, he looked like he was one second away from giving Alex a very stern lecture on life choices. "You have any idea how close I came to teleporting to one of your other stuffs? Again?" Gereon''s voice held the kind of frustration that only years of putting up with Alex could cultivate.

    Alex gulped, realizing just how lucky he was to be sitting here sipping tea instead of being on the receiving end of his father''s wrath. "Sorry about that. I''ve been, uh, busy. Very busy. With¡­ cults. And fighting.

    And¡­ tea."

    Gereon sighed, his disappointment noticeable. "Why are you sitting here, sipping tea like some noble on holiday, when you''ve got a newborn at home you haven''t even met yet?"

    Alex froze, mid-sip, and quickly lowered his cup, his face turning a shade paler than usual. Of all the things his father could bring up, this was not what he wanted to deal with. "Uh, well, you see, about that¡­ I was, um, planning to¡ª"

    "Planning to what?" Gereon cut him off, his piercing eyes locking onto Alex with the precision of a seasoned warrior about to strike. "Planning to sit here, drink more tea, and hope I don''t show up? Or were you planning to actually go see your child at some point before their first birthday?"

    "Of course, I was planning to go see her... err... him?!" Alex said defensively, though it didn''t help that his nervous chuckle followed almost immediately. "It''s just that, well, you know how it is with these things. Babies don''t really, uh¡­ do much in the first few weeks."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow. "Babies don''t do much? They breathe, they grow, and they make you a father, Alex. That''s more than enough. And you don''t know the gender? I have failed you as a father, your sister is the only one who can fix you."

    Alex winced. There was no talking his way out of this one, not with his father giving him that look. The "you''ve messed up, but I''m going to let you figure it out while I stand here and judge you" look.

    "Okay, okay, I get it," Alex muttered, finally accepting his defeat, the last person he wanted to see was his sister. "I''ll go see the baby. I just needed to take care of a few things first, that''s all."

    Gereon crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Like fighting a church of all things?"

    Alex flinched. "That was¡­ a misunderstanding. They, uh, don''t take criticism very well."

    His facepalmed, "Thank gods I am in a good mood" S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Thank who?"

    "What?"

    "No... I, uh... I will go see the baby." Alex knew that his father was a hundred percent atheist, if he ever wanted to worship a god, he would worship himself, he was almost captivated by his father''s high self esteem. Almost.

 Chapter 42 - 42: How to train your dragon

    It was already evening, and Judge was dodging his master''s attacks by a hair''s breadth like a cat on a slippery floor, each of her swings could rearrange his bones like a furniture in a house renewal montage.

    ''Man, I am getting good at this!'' He thought as he dodged another attack by stepping to the side, but that one was just a feint. He realized it too late as he went flying back like a helicopter with a bad motor, and he hit a conveniently placed haystack (Luckily).

    ''Thank the gods for soft landings,'' he groaned inwardly. didn''t I do this yesterday?

    Both the wooden sword and her real sword had no more width than a katana, but the swings came in like a bazooka''s recoil. Even her figure was thin, does thin equals more strength in this world. Judge silently cursed at whoever did the worldbuilding.

    ''Is that a sword or a battering ram?'' Judge thought as he again set sail across the air, this time hitting hard on a tree, leaving a perfect 1:1 scale ratio silhouette of him on the tree.

    "Get up or I will start charging you for the garden repairs," Seraphis called out, leaning forward on her sword which was stabbed on the ground.

    "Where is the garden? I don''t see one," Judge stood up and looked around, but his view suddenly shifted. He was, yet again, on another air cruise. He wondered if he was still alive, ''I am getting too old for this,'' he thought¡ªdespite being a literal baby in his new life¡ªas he flew across the grounds and crashed headfirst into his master''s house. ''Yep, still alive.''

    He landed near the deck where his mother was teaching Selena, her lessons were more of a realxing afternoon tea session, compared to his absolute bone-breaking gladiator match of a lesson.

    "Hey, nice ether trick!" he called to Selena, still upside down. "Wanna switch places? You can take a turn being launched into the stratosphere!"

    Selena just smiled sweetly, a sparkle of smug satisfaction in her eyes. "Ethercraft is an art, Judge," she said, her tone leaning in that particular way only a sibling can manage, and he never had siblings... except in this life. "It requires a calm and composed mind¡ªsomething you clearly don''t have." Her grin practically screamed pity, but in the most insulting way possible.

    did I do this yesterday too? I don''t think so. Judge''s sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu getting stronger.

    "Tch," Judge muttered, rolling his eyes and flipping himself upright. "Why did I ever agree to help transform your body anyway?"

    He got up, thankfully, his master did not come swinging at him with her wooden sword the moment he got up¡ª oh wait... hold that thought. He kissed the earth goodbye, literally and metaphorically, yet again. ''Is this a sword or a medieval artillery piece?'' he mused mid-air

    When he finally picked himself up off the ground, ready for the next round of beatings, he noticed something unusual¡ªSeraphis wasn''t charging at him with her sword raised.

    Instead, she just stood there, scratching her head in a way that said she was thinking, though Judge wasn''t sure if that should be more terrifying than the sword. Note to himself, she can think. He felt like he had found a clue to the world''s secrets.

    "This isn''t working out!" she exclaimed, sounding more irritated than anything.

    Judge blinked. Was this a joke? "Then why are you trying to kill me?!" he cried out, genuinely confused. There were moments today where he was fairly sure he had seen his life flash before his eyes ¨C several times over.

    "You''re a dragon," Seraphis said dismissively, as if that explained everything. "You won''t die from this ¡ª even remotely." she brushed it off as if they were discussing what kind of toys children like.

    She tossed her sword into a pile of wood with the casual attitude of someone throwing away a candy wrapper.

    She started walking toward her house. "Come on, Judge. Let me teach you my personal principles. You''re clearly not ready for what I had planned."

    ''Wait, teach? Like, with words? Why didn''t we start with that instead of the spontaneous air travel sessions?''

    Judge frowned, he could feel a strange sense of ''repeating the same day'' wash over him. Didn''t she say something like this yesterday? No, that couldn''t be right¡ª this was their first day of training, wasn''t it?

    ''Maybe it''s fatigue,'' he thought, brushing it off. But something about it still gnawed at the back of his mind. Maybe he needed a vacation... or at least a soft chair to sit on after this absurd day of being launched across the yard like a human cannonball.

    ''Note to self,'' he thought dryly, ''Invest in body armor. And a better sense of self-preservation.''

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was almost evening. "Clara!" A cloaked man hurried through the woods, his desperate steps almost stumbling over roots as he chased after a little girl who was far too agile for her age.

    His hand was stretched out, as if in a desperate attempt to catch her, though she was already a good distance ahead of him. "I told you, it''ll be the end of us if we go into the forest!"

    "You''ve been acting weird since morning!" Clara shouted back without even turning her head, her small figure dashing through the underbrush like a mouse trying to escape a predator.

    "What are you hiding, Percival? I won''t listen unless you tell me!" She was throwing a fit, as young children often do, but Percival''s face was engraved with fear. He wasn''t just afraid of losing sight of her¡ªhe was scared of something else.

    "I will tell you if you just come back," His voice cracked, getting more desperate and frantic, "Please, Clara, listen to me... Please."

    She ignored his pleading, her speed quickening with a determined mind. Soon, they reached the edge of the outer forest. Percival, panting and clearly out of breath, had resorted to begging her to stop, his voice cracking with desperation.

    "Miss Mina went inside!" Clara was still not giving up, as if that was all the justification she needed.

    Before Percival could catch up or muster a response, it happened. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A terrifying, sudden sight¡ªClara''s head flew into the air, her body crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.

    No scream, no warning, her innocent smile still fixed on her face, as if she hadn''t even registered the horror of what had happened, she was still enjoying her chase with Percival. There was no sign of the killer, no trace of who or what had caused it.

    Percival froze in his tracks, his mind had already registered what had happened as he let out a scream. "CLARAAAA!" But even before his voice echoed in the woods, his fate was sealed.

    His head, too, followed Clara''s suit, severed cleanly from his body in an instant. And just like with Clara, there was no visible attacker¡ªjust the silence of the forest and the lifeless bodies that lay on the muddy ground.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes to a familiar evening, he was lying on a patch of grass, it felt familiar¡ª too familiar. His heartbeat quickened as a chilly sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu slowly started to creep inside his mind.

    But that could not be right, this was his first time here, right? Or maybe he laid here yesterday.

    "No..." he muttered, "I was inside that damn egg yesterday." He tried to remember but nothing was off in his memories, he started training with his master today... and was hit in the head.

    "Ahh, that might be the reason!" He stood up, he had been knocked unconscious by his tutor "I wish she would just go easier on me," He looked at his master waiting patiently for him.

 Chapter 43 - 43: When Life Gives You Swords, Dodgeâ€”And Then Blame the Universe

    Judge had only been at it for a few hours, and already, he was feeling like a sword-fighting prodigy. He could read his master''s attacks with alarming accuracy, almost as if she had become a predictable NPC in a poorly coded game. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Each time she swung with enough force to turn his bones into confetti, he managed to deflect or dodge just in time¡ªby the hair on his skin, mind you, and he did not have hair on his skin since it was full of scales.

    Whenever there was no escape route and he found himself staring down the barrel of her wooden sword, he''d redirect the blow with his own, trying to minimize the damage like a discount shield with a zero refund policy.

    He still felt the impact, of course, but it was the difference between being mildly uncomfortable and becoming tomorrow''s feature in Worst Training Accidents Weekly.

    His enhanced cognition was firing on all cylinders, absorbing and analyzing her attack patterns like an overzealous student cramming for finals.

    With each exchange, he could sense the pattern, the ebb and flow of the fight¡ªalmost like he''d danced this deadly tango before. (Tango is a dance performed by partners)

    Was this... muscle memory? No, that didn''t make sense. His muscles hadn''t had enough time to learn the "Don''t Die Horribly" technique. So why did everything feel weirdly... familiar?

    ''Have I been hit in the head one too many times?'' Judge wondered mid-parry as another blow whistled past his ear. ''Or is this some weird side effect of being a dragon? Do dragons get d¨¦j¨¤ vu? Is there a manual for this?''

    But there was something else bugging him¡ªsomeone else, to be precise. Selena. She was acting differently today, as though she wasn''t her usual smug self.

    Less of her usual smugness and more of... well, just regular smugness, but there was something off about it. He remembered what Clio had told him about the Scriptwriter and got an idea. Why not talk to her directly¡ª mentally?

    ''Selena,'' he called out telepathically, focusing his voice on her mind like a toddler trying to aim a water pistol for the first time.

    "Huh?!" Selena shrieked, mentally, and the delicate fireball she was controlling exploded like an overfilled water balloon, scattering out into harmless embers.

    ''Smooth,'' Judge thought, dodging another swing by stepping sideways just as a wooden sword slid by his nose. "Don''t you think we''ve done this before? This exact thing? Though it''s supposedly Day One of training?"

    "Uhh... yeah... now that you mention it... I do feel like I am getting a weird... I dunno, d¨¦j¨¤ vu?" she replied telepathically, her mental voice carrying the tone of someone trying to brush off an awkward encounter. "But, uh, warning next time before you do this mind-talk thing.

    Almost incinerated my eyebrows."

    Judge rolled his eyes. "Priorities, Selena. Just look at me training and tell me how do I do it."

    Ignoring Judge, her concentration was quick to return to her lesson, and he was left wondering about the strange repetition in the air. Something was definitely off. He didn''t need to be a master manipulator to sense that.

    Before he could delve deeper into the mystery, Seraphis, his ever-vigilant master, came to an abrupt halt, standing there like she''d just realized she left the stove on.

    "This isn''t working out!" she declared, more to herself than to him, and began marching toward the house. "Come on, Judge. We need to teach you my personal ethercraft principle. I acknowledge your skill, but you''re clearly struggling here, and it is just the beginning phase."

    Judge blinked. Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. That line¡ªshe''d said it before, hadn''t she? Like, yesterday... which wasn''t actually yesterday.

    Or was it? His brain twisted in tangles as he tried to remember the last time he''d been this confused.

    But this was not just a feeling. Something was definitely repeating.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge snapped awake, lying on that same suspiciously familiar patch of grass he had visited more times than a good napper should. "Oh, come on!" he yelled, looking at the sky. "I knew it! This isn''t just a weird dream!"

    He quickly transported himself into the Studio, his safe space for sorting out the nonsense of life.

    "Clio!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the studio''s now-empty walls like an angry boomerang. "I need answers, and you better show up with them! No riddles, no cryptic messages¡ªjust plain facts!"

    The air shimmered, and with a voice like nails on a chalkboard dipped in honey, Clio appeared. "What? You finally noticed?" she drawled, sounding like she had known this would happen all along and couldn''t be bothered to care.

    Judge frowned, already annoyed by her very presence. "So something was wrong!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Why didn''t you say anything sooner?!"

    Clio flicked a speck of dust (imaginary) off her shoulder, totally unbothered by his outrage. "I figured you''d piece it together eventually. You know, with that fancy enhanced cognition of yours."

    She put her hand to the chest "The same Enhanced Cognition that ''I'' gave you." Maybe she just wanted to look cooler.

    "You mean the same enhanced cognition that was too busy dodging medieval artillery dressed up as sword training to realize I was stuck in a time loop?!" Judge shot back, throwing his hands up in annoyance.

    Clio grinned, the kind of grin that made him want to punch a wall and then apologize to it for the emotional rage... And then maybe scream at a pillow until the feather begged for mercy. "Well, you''re here now, aren''t you?"

    Judge groaned, rubbing his temples like someone trying to massage away the sheer silliness of his situation that should have been, in fact, taken very seriously. This was going to be a long day¡ªor, more accurately, another long yesterday. Or maybe it was today again? Whatever, he did not care.

    "So tell me, Clio," He accepted his defeat, no matter how much he plotted, there was no getting rid of her. "What in the... What was this world''s name again?"

    "Aark" She rolled her eyes like a toddler trying to explain how her Lego builds made sense. And Judge wanted to consider taking up therapy just to deal with her.

    "Ah yes Aark," He coughed in order to mask his embarrassment, "So, what in the Aark is going on?"

    "So," She made herself a throne and sat on it, there is this one guy¡ª"

    "Is this the part where you go on a five-minute presentation that explains nothing but makes you sound really important?" Judge interrupted, folding his arms.

    "Shhh, I''m doing a monologue," Clio replied with a wave of her hand, as if he were a minor inconvenience in the grand theater of her life. How old was she anyway?

    Judge pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This day¡ªor whatever it was¡ªwas just getting worse. "You are really annoying you know."

    "Did you know that we both have the same habits?"

    "I have to disagree... and stop changing the subject." Judge wanted to look menacing, but he just could not. If it was some one else, other than his mother, he could have managed.

 Chapter 44 - 44: Intense staring contest: Clio wins (Obviously)

    Judge and Clio were locked in the most intense staring contest of the century¡ªor at least it would have been, if Clio weren''t eating popcorn.

    No, not eating¡ªdevouring it like she was watching the most fascinating drama unfold. The real drama? She was supposed to explain something crucial, and instead, here she was munching away, while Judge''s patience was swinging loosely by a thread thinner than Clio''s obvious attention span.

    Should I call it chick pop? he wondered, mid-glare. Popcorn sounds so... generic. Or maybe generic was the one for her.

    Judge sighed and looked away, breaking the so-called contest. In Clio''s mind, that was an immediate, devastating loss for Judge. She mentally raised a victory banner¡ªcomplete with fanfare¡ªwhile stuffing another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

    For someone who was supposedly responsible for recording mortal tales, she sure was dedicated to this nonsense. None of her impulsive, almost cartoonish behavior gave any hints of her being a deity.

    But, of course, everyone except Judge seemed to be terrified of her, convinced that at any moment she might unleash divine wrath.

    Was she acting? Was she always like this? Or did she just enjoy tormenting him? Either way, the nicest thing Judge could feel toward her was a mild, slow-burning irritation. The kind of irritation that could fuel a thousand sarcastic remarks, but even that was starting to wear down. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Clio... I am serious here," he said, his voice adopting that "I''m talking to a child" tone, which, incidentally, was becoming his default setting around her.

    "Oh, let me tell you one thing," Clio said through a mouthful of popcorn¡ª sorry, chick pops?¡ªwhich she was now trying to polish off like it was her life''s mission. She paused dramatically after that sentence, causing Judge''s eyebrow to twitch in barely suppressed rage. "You are not in a time loop."

    "Yeah, I already knew tha¡ª Wait, hold on. NOT in a time loop?!" His cool demeanor cracked, just a little. He''d lost posture, straightened up, lost it again, and tried to act casual.

    His mind raced, quickly trying to recover whatever dignity he could. Okay, so maybe I didn''t see that coming, but¡ªhe internally justified himself¡ªmaybe we both have a bad habit of being overconfident. Maybe. Just maybe.

    "What do you mean ''NOT in a time loop''? Then what was that d¨¦j¨¤ vu nonsense?!" He demanded, his hands were trembling in frustration, he wanted to hit a wall or whatnot.

    "Don''t tell me I''m seeing the future or... or some other ridiculous thing!" He barely managed to stop himself from swearing, not a rare feat for him. Maybe it''s better if I keep the narrative under 18, he thought. I''d rather not get censored.

    Clio gave him a smug, lazy grin, as if she were about to drop the most obvious truth bomb in history. "I''m sure even that floppy brain of yours, which does nothing but plot, can figure it out." She waved a hand like she was dismissing an annoying fly. "But fine, I''ll give you a clue since I can''t stand the idea of you moping over this for too long."

    Judge leaned in. Please, please, for once, just give me a straight answer, he thought desperately. The woman was a walking puzzle wrapped in a riddle, topped with a bow of pure, unchained chaos. Whatever she was about to say, he prayed it would be useful.

    "Lucifer''s victim is resurrecting," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but still audible. Then, poof, she disappeared into thin air, leaving Judge in a state of existential crisis.

    Judge stared at the space Clio had vacated. Resurrecting? Victim? Lucifer? He was tempted to lie down, close his eyes, and pretend like the world didn''t exist. Maybe I should just opt for early retirement, or, you know, a nice session of long-term therapy.

    But of course, there was no time for that, and he knew it. The plot, as always, had other plans.

    "Hawthorne''s victim, huh?" He stood up, shaking off the existential phobia creeping into his mind. For now, he decided to let that whole resurrection bit stew in the back of his mind¡ªafter all, nothing says "urgent" like "someone you thought was dead isn''t."

    With a deep sigh, Judge changed the room back to how it looked when he first met Hawthorne, taking his throne with a casual flop. He needed answers. And when you need answers, you call the expert troublemaker.

    Mentally, he reached out, "Lucifer," his tone almost business-like.

    There was a long pause. Then, at last, a flustered voice echoed in response. "Yes, Sir Recorder! I am at your service!" The voice was unnecessarily deep, almost like the guy had practiced it in front of a mirror.

    Judge made a mental note. Delay in response... Check. Flustered? Also check. Wonderful.

    Exactly the kind of people I need when dealing with d¨¦j¨¤ vu mysteries, he thought, sarcasm leaking out of his brain like an overstuffed sponge.

    With a dramatic sigh, Judge sat back and prepared for the inevitable chaos to come. I should''ve stuck with the chick pops.

    "Do you have any missions currently?" He was back in serious mode. If he could, he wanted to record all that madness.

    "My missions won''t hinder any work you give me Sir recorder!" He seemed excited for some reason, but his prideful voice was still there.

    "Just give me a straight answer. Do you have any missions currently?" He rubbed his brow, which anyone would do after going through two quirky individuals.

    "Yes, Sir Recorder! I have..."

    "Drop the Sir part."

    "Yes, recorder. I am tasked with killing a dangerous individual and the people with her." He continued in a voice that yelled dissatisfaction. "The hard part is that there is a child that need to be killed, but I have no choice if I have to save other lives."

    He summoned Lucifer into the room, he wanted to talk to him face to face.

    "Lucifer." He said calmly, "Wear your mask and head to your victims today, and say that your master wishes to speak with them, then call me in your head.

    "Yes sir!" Lucifer kneeled in front of him, his hand on his chest, folded into a fist.

    I should write a script, just in case. Judge summoned a paper to write a script for Hawthrone to follow, after he had left. He wanted to see the skill''s effect.

 Chapter 45 - 45: Popcorn, Time Loops, and Other Minor Annoyances

    Judge sat in his throne-like chair, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest, as he waited for Lucifer''s call, mentally. The silence in the room was almost uncomfortable, but it gave him time to think ¡ª which, in his case, wasn''t always the best thing. His thoughts had the tendency to spiral out of control as he always thinks of all the possible ways this could go.

    Like right now.

    His mind kept circling around one particularly irritating question: How exactly does this "resurrection" thing work? And if Clio''s annoying popcorn-munching reveal about "Lucifer''s victim" was anything to go by, it wasn''t your average ''come back from the dead'' situation. No, it must be worse ¡ª time could be involved.

    "Great. Just great," Judge muttered to himself. "Time-travel shenanigans. As if my life wasn''t complicated enough."

    He had a solid suspicion that d¨¦j¨¤ vu wasn''t just his own delusions or a bad memory. No, this was something much more concrete. It was real d¨¦j¨¤ vu¡ª the kind where time rewound itself without anyone (except Judge and maybe a select few) noticing. And that "select few" included Selena, who had also experienced those weird flashes of familiarity. That was clue number one.

    Clue number two? He had come from another world, or was at least reincarnated. That had to play a part in why he could sense the distortion. His mind wasn''t locked into the timeline like a native of this world; it was tied up to something beyond it. So, when time rewound, he noticed. He felt it.

    Another small possibility ran through his mind, they both were appointed as cameramen in this world, and being affected by a shift in the world''s running was not something that should affect a cameraman.

    Which makes sense considering he had recorded two stories before and was more acquainted with his role, while Selena had none and did not feel it as effective as him.

    The question that was bubbling at the back of his mind now was how much time could this victim rewind. Minutes? Hours? Days?

    That made Judge uneasy. If the person could reset time over and over, wouldn''t they have a ridiculous advantage? Not just against their enemies, but against... everything?

    Then came the truly anxious thought: What if the victim wasn''t just rewinding time, but rewinding it endlessly every time they were about to die? What are the consequences? Rewinding time won''t be just as easy as asking out your high school crush.

    "worst she could say is no", Words that could break friendships.

    Judge sat up straighter, his fingers pausing in their drumming. That thought was unsettling in a way he hadn''t anticipated. If this person could trigger some kind of loop, what would that mean for him? For the Studio?

    The Studio was, for all intents and purposes, his safe space. His pocket dimension where he had total control. If he were to summon the victim into the Studio and kill them there, would the loop still trigger? Could the world itself rewind while the victim was inside the Studio and outside of their dimension?

    Or would Judge be trapped in another time loop, just inside this dimension, with time resetting every time the victim died?

    He could almost imagine it now: an eternal cycle of killing the same person over and over again, with both of them trapped in a never-ending tango of life, death, and rewound timelines.

    Would he even remember it? Or would he be stuck like a broken record, unaware that he was reliving the same events, forever? He could not put his hopes into his cameraman trait.

    That idea of repeating things sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

    "Okay, okay," Judge said, talking to no one in particular, as he often did when he was thinking too hard. "Calm down. Think it through. Worst-case scenario, you''re in an endless loop, which is only hypothetical. Best-case scenario... well, best-case, I suppose you just kill the person and move on with your life."

    He rubbed his head. Why did it have to be time magic? He could deal with fireballs and lightning strikes, but time? But that was another level of headache.

    Just then, his train of thought was interrupted by a faint buzz in his mind. Lucifer was finally calling. About time. Pun intended (Read again if you did not get the pun).

    Judge closed his eyes and focused, connecting with Lucifer''s mind through their link. "Go ahead, Lucifer. What''s the situation?"

    The response came quickly, but Lucifer''s tone had shifted from his usual dramatic air to something more tense, as if he wasn''t entirely sure what was happening himself. "Recorder, I''ve reached the target... but something feels off." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Define ''off,'' " Judge said, his tone was flat. Of course, something would feel off. This was a time-turner they were dealing with. He hadn''t expected this to be easy.

    "I don''t know. The girl is still normal, but the man¡ª a faint, creepy, and utterly disgusting ether is surrounding him, it is like there are many of ''him'' inside him... like many echoes.

    He also seems to be different from his usual self that I have been observing for the past couple of days. He is acting scared and is trying to persuade the little girl to not head to the forest, which is something he does not usually do."

    Judge''s mind raced again. Creepy ether? Was that somehow connected to the side effects of turning back time? Maybe they are eating away at his life. Was he willing to go that far for a little girl? And what about echoes?

    Was that his past reality where he was killed?

    He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Okay, Lucifer. New plan. Don''t kill anyone just yet."

    There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "Recorder, What do you mean ''don''t kill anyone''? That''s... sort of what I do." His tone was still respectful, Judge wondered if everyone he had been in contact with would suddenly turn sarcastic.

    Judge pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I know, Lucifer. But humor me for a moment. Just do what I asked earlier. Deliver the message that I want to talk with them. Then, after you''ve made contact, tell me."

    Lucifer didn''t sound happy about it. "Yes sir. But dare may I ask, what is Sir Recorder trying to do with them?"

    Judge rolled his eyes. "You only have to do as you are told. Now go."

    As the mental link faded, Judge''s mind buzzed with even more questions than before. Creepy ether? Echoes of reality? The victim resurrecting? Time loops? He hated this.

    The more he learned, the less he seemed to know.

    He stood up and stretched, pacing around the room. He needed answers, but there was no way to get them without poking at the situation directly. Still, he couldn''t shake the gnawing feeling that he was about to step into something far more complicated than he''d bargained for.

    For now, he''d wait for Lucifer''s next call. And in the meantime, he''d try not to think too hard about the fact that, for all he knew, time itself might be out to get him.

    "Great. I''ve officially become paranoid," Judge muttered. Then, with a sigh, he added, "Why did I only consider writing a script for him and not ACTUALLY do that?."

    He then proceeded to summon a paper and a pen, he had to show the way for Lucifer to act, and maybe capture a worthy story from this encounter.

 Chapter 46 - 46: Dramatic Entrances 101: Terrifying the Time Turner

    Judge leaned back in his chair, quill in hand, feeling like a director about to shape the fate of his characters. He stared down at the parchment, which had definitely seen better days. Sure, there were ether-powered machines, time loops, and dark forces swirling around him, but none of that compared to the delicate art of scriptwriting.

    Lucifer approaches his prey, not with bloodlust or the intent to kill, Judge wrote, the words coming to him smoothly.

    Suddenly, a vision flashed before his eyes, like a theater screen projected straight into his brain. Judge blinked, a bit taken aback by the weirdness of it all¡ªhe could see the vision playing out in his mind while still being fully aware of his surroundings. It was like he had two brains working at once.

    He settled into his chair, mentally conjuring up a bucket of popcorn. This was some top-tier entertainment. Ether-powered VR¡ªnow that''s something worth looking into for later, he mused with a grin.

    The scene unfolding in his mind was exactly what he had hoped for. Lucifer¡ªhis loyal, ever-arrogant agent of pride¡ªwas making his way toward his prey. These weren''t just random targets though; they were previous kills brought back by some mysterious time-turning ability. And Lucifer? Well, he wasn''t the type to take that lightly, not that he knew of that fact.

    Judge chuckled to himself. "The guy really does have an ominous air about him!" He exclaimed, but not because he was surprised. Rather, because he just thought it would sound cool (It did not). Maybe he was picking on Clio''s bad habits¡ª he quickly showed that thought aside.

    He could see the man confused as to what was happening, like he was sure that he did not cause anything for a butterfly effect. He held the girl in his arms, trying to protect her, as Lucifer drew closer.

    Back to the script.

    Lucifer proceeds to ask his prey: "How many times do you think I''ve killed you? I''ve dealt with time-turners before, but none of them had dark ether as thick and disgusting as yours."

    Judge smirked. Lucifer''s lines had just the right mix of menace and arrogance, perfectly fitting his character. It was the kind of thing that made your backbone tingle without raising a sword.

    Lucifer drew closer to his targets, calm as ever. His aura radiated power, wrapping around him like storm clouds ready to strike. Judge knew this wasn''t just pride¡ªthis was pure, calculated menace.

    Judge leaned in mentally, amplifying Lucifer''s presence with a sliver of his own will. The weight of his power pressed down on the targets, making them tremble. Even Lucifer had a hard time standing firm against Judge''s full force, so for these two poor souls, it was like being hit by a large ether-fueled sledgehammer, but less deadly.

    "Nice," Judge thought, pleased with himself. He''d keep this move in his back pocket for future encounters. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lucifer continued, voice low and threatening, all according to the script. "But..." The pause was timed to perfection. "My master, the recorder, wishes to see you. I don''t know what he sees in your pitiful self, but... you should be grateful that he even wills to see you."

    Judge let out a contented sigh. Was it perfect? Maybe not. But it was damn close.

    With the script written, Judge leaned back in his chair again, picturing how the next scene would play out. When Lucifer summoned him, it would be grand¡ªhis entrance would be nothing short of legendary.

    The air would shift, thick with tension. The lights would dim, and a spotlight would illuminate him sitting on a throne, ether swirling around him. He''d rise slowly, his coat sweeping the floor behind him like something out of a perfectly choreographed play.

    And then, in a voice so low it sent chills down spines, he''d welcome them to his domain.

    "Welcome to the Studio," he''d say.

    He could almost see their terrified faces. They wouldn''t know what hit them. There''d be a pause, the tension growing thicker, and then he''d casually throw in something like, "You''re probably wondering why you''re here... or how many times I''ve watched you die. Honestly? I''ve lost count."

    But maybe it was better to head out to meet them, after all, he did not know what triggered the time turn, so better not make any rash decisions. what if time turned back endlessly while he goes inside the studio? It was not worth the risk.

    He would go out and be the most intimidating person out there. Maybe he would enter with at least a bit of his will leaking, faking it like a little of what hid underneath.

    Judge grinned, imagining the scene. Now that was how you make an entrance.

    He opened his eyes and looked around, feeling the anticipation building inside him. It wouldn''t be long before Lucifer called him in to finish the job. Until then, he''d wait, the master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

    Lucifer was in charge of handling the messy part.

    Judge? He had the dramatic finish covered.

    It was a flawless plan¡ªor at least, that''s what Judge hoped. But he wasn''t one to trust in things going perfectly. Something always went sideways, especially when time manipulation and dark ether were involved. He had to be ready for every possible outcome, no matter how ridiculous.

    "What if I trip on my coat during the big entrance?" he briefly wondered. Nah, that wouldn''t happen. Not this time. Hopefully.

    His thoughts were cut short by Lucifer''s mental call, breaking into his mind with a directness that was both respectful and oddly formal: "Recorder, I''ve done as you asked. What''s next?"

    Judge smirked, picturing Lucifer standing there, all intimidating and commanding but still waiting like a well-trained soldier. It was almost... cute, in a twisted, menacing kind of way.

    "Step aside as you are making way for your master," Judge instructed, quickly cutting off the telepathic link like a domineering boss. Because even in telepathy, style mattered.

    Rising to his feet, Judge cracked his neck like he was gearing up for a showdown, adjusted his mask, and took a moment to admire his reflection. Yes, he summoned a mirror just to admire his look.

    He briefly toyed with the idea of sending his clone instead¡ªless risky, more detached. But unfortunately, his clone couldn''t contain the sheer amount of his will, his presence. And let''s be honest, a grand entrance wasn''t nearly as fun without that bone-chilling intimidation factor, but if the viewers are crushed, then what''s the use of an entry?

    "Guess the real me''s going out there," he muttered, mildly inconvenienced by his own overwhelming power. The drama was necessary though. He had a reputation to uphold.

    "Well," he said to himself with a wry grin, "time to make my debut. And what better way to do it than terrifying someone who literally controls time?"

    He decided to head back... but a slight problem. He had escaped from training, and he was sure that his master wouldn''t let him go. "Why did I not think about this?"

    But he was not quick to give up, "Sorry Selena, I will remember your self-sacrifice." He took up his pen and script.

 Chapter 47 - 47: Questionable decisionsâ€” when you plan is just wing it

    Judge sat back, his enhanced cognition working in the background like some overclocked brain engine. He scratched his head (Well, he tried to, but his body was still slow), his thoughts were bouncing between options faster than a rabbit hopped up on ether, as if that was a thing.

    He needed a distraction, something to throw both his master and his mother off his trail. But nothing too obvious, because let''s face it, if Selena suddenly started breakdancing or juggling fireballs, it would definitely raise a few eyebrows.

    He held back a chuckle after imagining Selena doing a break dance. He wanted to see it really bad.

    No, Selena had to act normal. Judge sighed dramatically. "Why can''t things ever be simple? Just once, can I have a problem that doesn''t make my brain melt?"

    He toyed with the idea of sending her a mental message. But then again, telepathy took time, and time was something Judge had less of than a guy in a time loop who forgot to set his alarm. He can''t afford to spend time, because it would mess up his grand entry. And there was no guarantee that she will abide.

    So he had to come up with something fast. With his EC still firing on all cylinders, he came up with a script that would do the trick¡ªwithout making Selena look like a complete weirdo.

    He conjured a piece of paper and began scribbling furiously. His hand moved so fast it looked like he was trying to start a fire with the power of friction. "This better work," he muttered, "or I''m going to have to fake my own disappearance. Though I would have done that already if it was possible."

    He had no choice whatsoever, his master could catch him before he even tried to teleport after getting out of the studio, and his mother could disrupt it. At least he assumed she did, he was not the one to take chances.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the Studio- the real world, Selena was, quite frankly, losing it. She''d been holding up a fiery orb for what felt like an eternity. Her concentration was becoming thinner than Judge''s excuses, and the persistent feeling that she''d done this a thousand times before was itching at the back of her mind like an old sweater she couldn''t take off.

    "You''re doing great, Selena!" her master, Eleyn, chirped in that overly sweet tone that only moms and kindergarten teachers use when they''re trying to convince you that drawing inside the lines is a life skill. "Just five more minutes!"

    Five minutes? Selena''s brain screamed in protest. Five minutes felt like five eternities, and her arms were about to give up and unionize against her. But that wasn''t even the worst part. No, the worst part was her actual mom¡ªSeraphis¡ªwho was nearby, angrily squeezing the life out of a mug. A mug that, as Selena noted bitterly, Dad had just made.

    "How dare that little¡ª!" Seraphis muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers turning the mug into an unfortunate victim of parental frustration.

    Selena wanted to scream. She wanted to hurl the fireball at her mom, at the universe, and maybe even at Judge, wherever that slacker was hiding. "MOM!" she finally snapped, sparks flying from the fireball as it burst in a shower of dramatic flair. "Would you quit whining for five seconds?! Judge is probably off pretending to be important, but can we at least get through this lesson without¡ª"

    But before she could finish her tirade, both her mother and Eleyn turned to her, not even flinching at the fact that she had just set off an ether-firework display. Instead, they simply looked at her and said, in perfect unison, like a creepy ether-powered doll, "You''ve lost focus."

    Selena blinked. That''s what they were concerned about? Not the fact that Judge was off to who knows where, probably doing something completely reckless? Not the fiery explosion she just caused? No. It was her focus.

    She was tempted to scream again, but then it hit her. Why was she even mad at Judge? There was something¡­ off, like a half-forgotten dream. Had Judge said something to her before he left?

    Her mind wandered. Maybe she''d throw in a little theatrics of her own to distract them. She smiled to herself, unknowingly being urged by some unseen force that was trying to keep both her mother''s and her master''s attention away from someplace else.

    "Well," Selena muttered under her breath, "if I''m going to lose focus, I might as well do it in style."

    With the air of someone about to disclose information about a grand secret organization¡ª except with considerably less poise¡ª she turned to her mother, who was still in a rage like a gang leader whose minions hadn''t followed orders.

    Selena took a deep breath and put on her most confident face. Well, as confident as one can look when their mom''s doing her best impression of a crime boss. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Mom," she declared, walking forward with the grace of a slightly tipsy drunkard, "let me show you a principle I created from scratch!"

    But as soon as she said that, her confidence wavered, especially when her mom''s gaze locked onto her, but it was too late to back down now. She had committed to this. And something was forcing her to move forward with the act.

    However, to Selena''s surprise, her mother didn''t seem fazed by the bold declaration. In fact, she looked more amused than anything, like a cat toying with a very brave mouse.

    Before she could lose her nerve entirely, Eleyn stepped forward, placing a hand on Selena''s shoulder with the kind of serious face reserved for the moments where they took life or death decisions. Which, in her case, wasn''t exactly common.

    "Can your psyche and ether handle this principle?" Eleyn asked, her tone dead serious.

    "Yes, Master!" Selena replied, her voice a little too eager, but hey, it''s not every day you get a shot at a redemption arc after blowing up a fireball. She was feeling good¡ª great even¡ª thanks to her ether talent and her solid psyche. But she knew she''d have to push this confidence a little more.

    "I can handle it," Selena said, puffing up her chest just a bit. "And if things go south, well, I have both of you here to back me up, right?"

    Eleyn smiled, a proud, somewhat teary-eyed grin that Selena swore could only be found in overly sentimental dramas and TV shows. "Well then," Eleyn said, wiping away her imaginary tears, "let''s get to it, shall we?"

    With a flick of her wrist, they all vanished, teleported to who-knows-where, because obviously, if you''re going to try some reckless new principle, you might as well do it somewhere with a better view.

 Chapter 48 - 48: Judges grand entry, but he is actually serious

    "Aah, finally!" Judge thought as he watched them all vanish after the teleportation. If his understanding of the scriptwriter ability was correct, Selena would now be forced to demonstrate some grand principle. Not that he cared much about what it was.

    All he had done was subtly manipulate Selena into telling the others she would reveal a principle¡ª a trick that would drain every drop of her ether. He knew full well she had a reservoir of ether large enough to power a city, but the script needed her to be vulnerable. And for that, her energy had to be depleted.

    Everything was falling into place exactly as he had planned. Now, it was time to teleport to Hawthorne¡ª or Lucifer, as the man wore his mask when he left the Studio. The next step? Pure acting. The kind of performance that would make Oscar winners look like amateurs fumbling with cue cards.

    In fact, the best actors weren''t in theaters or cinemas. They were in boardrooms, draped in power suits and dishing out corporate politicking with the finesse of seasoned performers. Judge was no stranger to that art; he could match any of those sly foxes with ease.

    He deactivated his Enhanced Cognition, wincing as the ache in his head felt like a drill grinding into his brain. And his brain, mind you, was far more valuable than most people''s¡ª he liked to remind himself of that.

    Rising from his seat, he waved away the table with a flick of his hand, watching it disappear into the void of the Studio.

    He exited the space swiftly, stepping back into the patch of grass where he''d started. The eerie d¨¦j¨¤ vu that once haunted him here was gone, replaced by the more immediate dread of his master finding him. He shuddered at the thought. That was a horror he didn''t care to imagine.

    Without hesitation, without even glancing around, he focused his ether and began folding space toward his location. It costed a ton of ether, and he did not have much ether left after casting it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Lucifer regarded the two pitiful beings before him with a cold, detached gaze. They had originally been his targets¡ªmarked for death by a mysterious woman who had promised him a reward of 200 sten if he succeeded.

    That was no small sum, and it immediately raised suspicions. It was rare for any quest, unless it was to kill or investigate someone immensely powerful, to exceed a reward of 30 sten.

    But Lucifer was confident. His new master backed him now, and his instincts told him to take the risk. And as expected, his master had sensed something was off with the whole ordeal.

    The girl had lived a life steeped in misery. Abandoned at birth, she was taken in by a farmer who was anything but kind. At six, her village was burned to the ground, liberating her from one form of misery only to cast her into another.

    She spent years as a slave, each new owner meeting with a fate more miserable than the last. At nine, she was finally taken in by an ether researcher, and now, at ten, she was under the care of Percival, who seems to work for the researcher who took care of her.

    Percival, however, had lived his life like Lucifer, both were insanely powerful entities. After an accident that took his arms and crippled his legs, his powers faded, and now he could neither fight nor flee. But unlike Lucifer, he had given up entirely¡ª resigned to his fate with no desire to seek out a path forward. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Pathetic," Lucifer thought bitterly. "Giving up is the first and last step to failure. Those who refuse to grow are no better than dead weight." He waited, his mind drifting to the impending arrival of his master¡ª the only person who seemed to know his past. Only those his family had once served knew his true origins.

    His family had cast him aside for being weak, and though Lucifer had since grown in power, it was still not enough to exact the revenge he craved, which was a goal that kept him going until he lost his powers.

    Now that they had found him in his weakened state and offered him strength, he had accepted without question. It was in his blood to serve, he had now entirely forgotten about revenge, and now a new purpose drove him forward.

    But where was the recorder? Time had passed since Lucifer stepped aside, waiting for his master''s entrance. "He must be debating whether these weaklings are even worth his time," Lucifer mused.

    Just then, a menacing presence made itself known¡ªthe air thickening with a suffocating weight. The recorder had arrived, his presence alone enough to command absolute submission.

    Lucifer immediately withdrew his will. Servants were never to exert their will in the presence of their masters. That was a common law everyone in the world followed, exuding will in front of their masters was considered as an act of disobedience, unless it was instructed.

    The figure before him was unmistakable: a red cloak draped over a green vest and crisp white shirt, a green top hat with a red ribbon adorned with delicate golden embroidery, and, of course, that signature white mask¡ª a permanent, unsettling smile etched across it.

    To Lucifer, the mask symbolized his master''s merciful heart, but to others, it was a chilling facade that hid the true terror beneath.

    "What do we have here?" Judge''s voice boomed, low and authoritative, dripping with a forced gravitas. The weight of his will pressed down on everyone present, and his words carried a finality that left no room for defiance.

    He moved closer to Percival, his presence as menacing as a predator toying with its prey, Percival''s clenched his teeth in anger.

    "Oh, how fierce you are," Judge mused, his tone was laced with mockery. He reached out, brushing his fingers along his chin as if contemplating something amusing.

    Despite the crushing pressure of Judge''s will, the young girl forced out a strained voice, defiant in the face of overwhelming power. "Don''t... touch Percival... you villain."

    Judge arched an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching under the mask. ''Me? A villain?'' He found her accusation amusing, but he wasn''t the sort to lash out at a mere child.

    He could be called a villain¡ª many had done so¡ª but he was not without principles. His parents, when they were alive in his previous life, had raised him with a sense of right and wrong.

    "Villainy is such a subjective term," he thought, his masked smile hiding the smirk that played at his lips.

 Chapter 49 - 49: The true face behind that mask

    Judge was not even acting at this point, he was enjoying the moment. He was low on ether, but it was fine as long as the two people in front of did not try anything funny. All he had to do was keep up the high and mighty image.

    The girl¡ª Clara, according to his information¡ª was not as easily convinced of defeat as the guy next to her, Percival. He was a man who had given up on life, and now makes a living through assisting an ethercraft researcher in her works.

    But it was clear that he loved the girl dearly and was willing to die for her to live. Judge knew very well on how to exploit someone''s ''weaknesses''. In his previous corporate battles, finding the enemy''s weak spot was the hard part, and it was always a smooth sail from then on.

    "So!" He turned and headed toward the girl, and he knelt near her as he approached. "Why should I not hurt Percival?" He was intrigued by what answer would she give. His face gave a twisted smile, which was fortunately covered by his mask.

    Lucifer stood by the side, watching his master passionately. Even though he did not show it, he was also curious as to what she would say.

    "Why should you hurt him? He is not a bad person." She was immobilized and was very weak in terms of combat prowess, but her bravery was commendable.

    Judge stood up and cleared his throat, it was loud enough for everyone to hear but quiet enough to make it feel natural. "Your bravery is commendable," He clapped slowly, "As a reward, let me tell you about this man''s crime."

    That caught her attention, as well as Lucifer''s. Percival was about to say something, but he went silent as soon as he heard Judge''s statement.

    "This man is disrupting the natural order of time, which is a great crime in itself, but he did it more than once." Percival went completely silent. He had no idea how he could turn the time back. It happened naturally as he died.

    But to think he was up against an entity that defied time, he had lived a quiet life after he had fallen from power. And even in his prime, he was sure he did not do something that would piss off an entity like the masked man¡ª recorder was it?

    Lucifer just stood there, he was tasked with killing someone who could turn time, so he was offered a huge sum of two hundred sten. If not for his master, he would have stuck in a time loop.

    "But," Judge continued, speaking slowly as to bring more weight into his words" turning back time... well, that comes at a steep price. You see, the universe doesn''t appreciate being tampered with. It''s a debt that must be paid... and paid in full."

    He was still speaking to the small girl, but Percival knew where this conversation was going. Judge noticed it too, Percival speaking now would not be a hindrance to the plan, but it was better if he did not.

    ''Lucifer, restrict the guy with your will. He smust not speak'' Judge ordered him. ''And don''t let the girl notice''

    Lucifer, not knowing what his master had planned, did as ordered. He exuded his will toward Percival in order to suppress him. Percival, who had just gathered enough strength to speak, was slammed back to the ground, his words not escaping his lips.

    Judge focused his attention back on the girl, "It will eventually make the person disappear... slowly, but surely... painfully... forgotten by all, vanishing from existence... Imagine being forgotten by everyone you''ve ever known, vanishing from existence like a candle snuffed out.

    Just like that." He said it in a villainous tone¡ª as to make the girl feel more uneasy despite being paralyzed under his will.

    He then continued on with his performance, "And do you know why he did that?"

    Clara was silent, she was unable to speak. Percival was meddling with time, she was not old enough to understand what it meant, but she knew it was something severe. And the cost was just disappearing? And I would forget him? No! I will never forget Percival!

    Percival was trying his hard to get up, he at least needed to speak and try to convince Clara that it was okay.

    Judge knew that his speech had hit the mark, he twisted smile was getting more villainous. He just needed a final push. "He did all of that just for you..." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, "Because you kept disobeying him and running off... Because you kept dying... he had no choice but to turn back time." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Clara was having a mental breakdown when she heard that, Judge could have stopped there, but one more final push would end his trouble.

    "And because of you..." He withdrew his will, it was no longer needed. "He will disappear... painfully... he will go mad and vanish from everyone''s mind."

    Judge did not know if anything he said was true, but he knew for a fact that there was no way to prove him wrong.

    "Stop!" Clara cried, "Because of me? Percival?" Her eyes widened in realization. "You''re lying." But she knew very well that was not the case.

    Percival was trying his hardest to get up, and he succeded... well¡ª partly. He now laid on the ground like a cobra. "Cla... ra," He said with difficulty. Lucifer was about to exude more will by borrowing from his master, but Judge instructed him to stop.

    He decide that was enough, let him free, He commanded Lucifer.

    Lucifer withdrew his will as he was instructed, letting Percival go toward Clara and hug her tightly. "Percival! I am sorry... sorry." Clara sobbed into his chest, overwhelmed with guilt and shame. Her world had collapsed, and all she could think about was how her actions had led to Percival''s suffering.

    Percival held her close "It is alright Clara," He tried to console her.

    Through his own tears that never left his eyes, he looked up at Judge, fury and sorrow mingling in his gaze. "Why?" Percival asked, his voice shaking. "Why do this? Why break her?"

    Lucifer, watching silently, could feel something stir in Percival. His old fire¡ª the will to fight that had long been extinguished¡ª was flickering back to life. ''Master could even light a fire that was put out ages ago, as expected of him.'' He thought.

 Chapter 50 - 50: Why is the situation getting out of hand?

    Judge had carefully set the stage, laying out all the pieces, and now it was time to reel in the information he sought. Clara, whether she realized it or not, was Percival''s greatest vulnerability, and Judge intended to exploit that.

    The final act was about to begin, and repairing the shattered remnants of their lives could wait¡ª after all, what was a little chaos if it brought about the truth?

    "But... I can help you, you know," Judge said, his voice aimed at Percival but with a calculated undertone meant for Clara''s ears. "I can free you from the cost of using time."

    Of course, it was a promise Judge had no intention¡ª or even ability¡ª of keeping. But manipulation was an art, and in his hands, it became a masterpiece.

    His ethics? Those were irrelevant. Honesty wasn''t a virtue in his world; the truth was only useful when twisted to fit his needs.

    The word "help" hung in the air like a balloon, drawing attention from all corners of the room. Even Lucifer, usually as stoic and numb as a statue, tilted his head ever so slightly at the mention of it, though he quickly masked any surprise.

    Clara, predictably, was the first to respond. "Help Percival?... How?" Her voice was fragile, trembling on the thin line between hope and despair. "Please..." She tried to stop crying, but the tears had a life of their own, spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably.

    Seeing her break down in front of him, Percival¡ª who until now had been mostly silent¡ª couldn''t resist looking up at Judge. His expression was one of defeat. After all, he had never signed up for this madness of bending time itself. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    His life had been a string of poor decisions, but never had he imagined he would end up like this¡ª entangled in powers beyond his understanding, with Clara at the center of it all.

    Percival was on the verge of a breakdown, too. He could feel the corrupt ether slowly creeping through his veins. It was a toxin that was transforming him into something monstrous¡ª just one or two more time reversals, and it would be over. He would become a monster, beyond saving.

    "I could stop him from turning time," Judge continued, addressing Clara with that same devilish confidence, then turning his head back to Percival. "But I''m not feeling generous enough to give it away for free. What do you think? Is it worth something to you?"

    The silence that followed was thick with tension. Percival''s eyes narrowed, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He was trying his best to contain it, but his voice betrayed him when he finally spoke.

    "What do you want in return?" His tone was rough, edged with a growing rage. "I don''t have anything that would be of use to someone like you."

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, the smile that never reached his eyes but always left others on edge. This was playing out exactly as he had anticipated.

    "Oh, you have more than enough," Judge replied smoothly. "You only have to answer a few questions for me, and I''ll consider helping you. It''s a simple exchange, really. If your answers are useful, I''ll fix this little... problem of yours. And if they are not...

    well... let''s say you are not getting a cure."

    Percival hesitated. He didn''t have much information¡ªnothing that seemed worth trading for something as monumental as time itself. But Judge could see the wheels turning in the man''s head, his desperation clawing at him as he struggled to find a way out.

    Judge, ever the master manipulator, kept reading Percival like a book. The man''s face betrayed his thoughts, and Judge''s enhanced cognition allowed him to analyze the situation at breakneck speed. He pieced together what Percival couldn''t quite say aloud.

    First, it was clear that Percival had no idea how he had turned back time. It must have happened when he died, likely without his understanding. That meant some higher power or entity was involved, perhaps orchestrating the time reversal from the shadows. But from the confusion on Percival''s face, he had no clue who or what that might be.

    Second, it was apparent that Percival was weak¡ªdangerously so. A low-level assassin could take him out for the cost of a few sten.

    Whoever had hired him either had grasped that Percival could turn back time but did not know how it worked and wanted to kill him instantly. Or worse, they were trying to turn back time as much as possible and corrupt his ether. Judge prayed it wasn''t the latter, but deep down, his gut told him it was exactly that.

    After organizing his thoughts, Judge asked his first question, his voice steady and demanding. "When was the first time you turned back time? And where were you when it happened?"

    Percival hesitated, then spoke slowly, his voice carrying the weight of his recent suffering. "I died for the first time... it was an explosion at the research center. Not more than two weeks ago."

    His tone, though bitter, was not entirely hostile. It was more as though he had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him. Pride flickered faintly in his eyes, but it was fading, leaving only the hollow shell of a man who had lost too much.

    Percival continued, "When I returned, I found myself in the same lab where I had died. The day before, I had been working there. It was... confusing. I had lashed out and acted like a madman. Miss Mina confined me for questioning¡ª "

    Judge''s sharp eyes caught onto the name, and his hand shot up, halting Percival mid-sentence. "Wait. Repeat that name."

    A cold knot twisted in Judge''s chest, recognition sparking from the back of his mind. That name... Mina... He had heard it before, long ago. But that couldn''t be right. She was dead.

    Wasn''t she?

    Even Lucifer seemed momentarily startled by the mention of the name, though he quickly regained his composure, his face a mask of indifference once more.

    "Miss Mina," Percival confirmed, his confusion deepening. "She''s the head researcher of the artificial ether creation project."

    Judge''s mind raced. His enhanced cognition kicked into overdrive as he processed this new information. ''Artificial ether creation project?'' It was too familiar. Too close to his own ethercraft, ''nihility.'' Both had been born from attempts to replicate artificial ether. The coincidence was too large to ignore.

    ''Heh,'' He sighed, ''This is gonna end with a big plot twist isn''t it?''

 Chapter 51 - 51: The Case of the Missing Puzzle Pieces: Who Needs Em Anyway?

    Judge felt like he was staring at an incomplete jigsaw puzzle, except most of the pieces were either missing or worse¡ª completely blank. He needed to gather the fragments and make sense of all this madness.

    ''So,'' he muttered to himself, trying to maintain calm though his mind was racing, ''there is a person called Mina, who just happens to be working on an ethercraft, coincidentally though, it was on the same topic as the father of the Mina he knew was researching on.''

    This was not a mere coincidence, he would not have taken it this seriously if the names were not the same. But two researchers, possibly linked by a common name and subject matter? It was enough to raise alarm bells.

    Even a fool would know not to take this lightly. He ran through the puzzle pieces, narrowing down possibilities. And then he weighed the two most plausible scenarios.

    First, it could be a pure coincidence. After all, human greed and ambition often gave birth to similar types of research. The pursuit of power, especially through manipulating magical energies, was nothing new. He had seen many ambitious fools who destroyed themselves to their ambitions.

    But then there was the other, ''I hope it is not'' scenario. The one that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The Mina that Percival mentioned was working on research that she kept from her father, an ethercraft that supposedly ate at her life. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    What if she was researching on something that kept her alive, something like... immortality? It would make perfect sense for the scene, but that was far too stretched out to be true.

    And even if she had achieved immortality, keeping the name would not make sense. If she lived through all these years without aging, that would definitely raise a few eyebrows. Judging by the state of the room in which he found the diary, more than a century had definitely passed.

    Melina had said that ethercrafts were all about bringing creativity to life through the implications of principles, so research would mean trying to create new principles and trying to improve them to cost less ether. And immortality was not entirely out of the question.

    He hoped it was a coincidence, because he could not do anything else but hope. But he was not a huge fan of hope. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to dismiss his more anxious thoughts. This was no time for guessing games. He needed more facts.

    Judge continued to question Percival after deactivating his enhanced cognition. "Well then, tell me more about this Mina. Her past I mean, she seems to be somehow connected to your... time circumstances."

    "Mina is a good person!" It was Clara, she seemed too eager to defend her. Mina might be the researcher who took her in. "She would never make Percival disappear." She was practically screaming at this point, but very weakly.

    Judge was not surprised but her sudden outburst. He had guessed that Mina might be the first guardian who showed her affection, and this just confirmed his thoughts.

    Lucifer, who was standing aside all this time, stepped forward. "Master, the researcher is known as Lara." He said softly "So, Mina might be an alias that people close to her might be calling her, though I am unsure about it."

    Judge''s eyes flashed toward Percival, who had managed to stand up, holding Clara in his arms, her small body now resting against his shoulder. She looked exhausted, her outburst having drained her completely.

    "Is that true?" Judge asked, narrowing his eyes at Percival, searching for any sign of deception.

    "Yes, the only people who call her Mina are me and Clara," Percival confirmed. "Others call her Lara, her legal name."

    Judge was getting calmer, but he could not shake off the feeling of unease in his mind. Maybe he was just overthinking things, it was stated in the diary that she died, but the researcher never went to confirm his daughter''s death. Maybe these two were different Minas.

    He knew that there would not be any more useful information, so he needed to ask a question that he knew Percival could not answer, then he could say that the answers were not satisfactory and leave.

    "Tell me more of your first experiences with time turning." Judge felt as if he already knew the answer.

    Percival looked hesitant at first but then spoke, his voice low and resigned. "I traveled through darkness," he said slowly, adjusting Clara on his shoulder as he tried to make sense of the memory. "When I woke up, I found myself in a world where everyone was asleep. But before I could even look around, I also fell asleep... and when I woke up again, time had reversed."

    Judge was surprised by the answer, it was not what he had anticipated, Judge felt a flicker of surprise. That was not the answer he had expected. He had assumed it would be the typical experience of an unintentional time traveler¡ª something sudden and panicked. But this... darkness? A world where everyone was asleep?

    That was far more unusual and disturbing.

    Still, he kept his composure. "I already know of that," Judge said dismissively, though in truth, his mind was now filled with new questions, desperately asking for answers. "Anything else? Because from what I can see, your time-turning is not something you control."

    Percival looked up at Judge, confused. He had hoped that his honesty would earn him Judge''s help. But hope, in his life, had always been fleeting. He should have known better. Life was nothing more than a cruel reality, one that never failed to disappoint him.

    Judge eyed Lucifer, he could not delay killing Percival any further. If the person who was behind all this came to check why there was no killing happening, he was not ready to fight any supernatural entities.

    ''kill them both'' He ordered mentally, ''But only after I give you the signal.''

    Judge stepped closer to Percival, not the best move but he needed the flair. "Remember," His voice was cold and indifferent, "Hold on to your life, if not for you, then at least for her sake." He pointed to Clara, who was now asleep on Perciavl''s shoulder.

    He then looked at Lucifer and nodded in affirmation, Lucifer stood straight from his lazy posture, and went back to the same pose.

    Two heads rolled on the ground, Percival who was yet to register that he was killed. And the unfortunate child, Clara, who still had tears on her face. He eyes were closed, her face was that of a child who was dreaming a nightmare.

 Chapter 52 - 52: When you try to make the dessert hotter

    Selena stood on a plateau, there was nothing but a hot desert as far as her eyes could see. Naturally formed stone monuments, both big and small, and the occasional dessert plants made the scenery breathtaking.

    But no matter how good the scenery was, there was no way that a human could live here. It was so hot that a volcano trip seemed like a hike to Mount Everest... That was a bit too exaggerated, but oh well.

    "Now," Seraphis spoke, stopping whatever Eleyn was about to say. "Show us your new principle, Selena."

    Eleyn looked at Seraphis with dissatisfaction, but she decided to say the rest, "This is a dessert called ''Salora'', the largest and the hottest. You can cast the largest of magics here, and not a soul would notice."

    ''Salora? Who even named it?'' She laughed internally, ''At least try to be original''

    "Alright, here goes nothing," She took a deep breath, it was not wrong to say that she was too excited for this, she should actually be nervous, but there was not even a small inkling of nervousness in her mind. This was a principle she had created on her own, and she had to show it off.

    She took up her wand, a sleek and twisted brown wooden shaft with a red jewel attached handle. Her master had made that for her, it was brand new, she did not know how a catalyst was created, but this was impressive.

    As it was new, there was barely any ether inside the red jewel catalyst, she had to make do with her own ether. She took a deep breath, guiding her ether slowly toward her wand.

    Selena tried to remember what her master had told her¡ª two things affected the casting of an ethercraft, one was ether, and the other was psyche.

    A principle depends on how you perceive the ether and reality, and also the bond between the two. You can cast any ethercraft as long as you have a simple principle and enough ether.

    But ''enough ether'' was not always a solution, and the only way to ease up the ether consumption was with a more complicated and detailed principle that shows the path for ether to create the said ethercraft.

    Psyche is something that keeps the complexity of principle in check, if the principle exceeds what your psyche can handle, then you will lose your mind and succumb to madness. There was one way to ease the usage of psyche, and that was chanting.

    Chanting helps to keep the consumption of the psyche lower, at least to an extent. Now that all the basics were down, she closed her eyes and focused on chanting.

    "From the skies, the servants rise,

    Seraphim, with wings of fire,

    Heed my call, O angels wise,

    With your light, descend and sweep,

    Reap their souls, may sinners be punished."

    She opened her eyes, her crimson pupils were exuding crimson colored ether like a fog. "Trumpets of apocalypse!" She shouted. But nothing happened as she still stood there, waiting to see whether it had worked or not.

    Seraphis caught her daughter as she fainted, a grand principle never worked the first time it was tried, it would only consume ether and nothing more, a grand principle was created through trial and error. Her daughter had fainted due to lack of ether, and this was a life lesson she needed to learn. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Let''s head back then," Eleyn suggested, "We need to help her polish her principle, it seemed grand since it consumed the whole of her ether reserve and even a lot from us." She was cheerful and had completely forgot about her son.

    "Let''s do just that." Seraphis finally gave up on keeping a stern face and laughed lightly "Do you remember the first time this happened to both of us? Thinking back, it was hilarious."

    "Yeah, I agree. Now let''s teleport back to¡ª" She did not have enough time to finish her sentence as she heard something faint, but unmissable. It was the horn of a giant trumpet, the faint sound soon turned into a loud but distant horn.

    The scene before them was magnificent, the clouds split as large meteors passed through. They showered down on the place like rain on a desert, literally and metaphorically.

    The giant fire artillery made the desert into a sea of flames, the centuries-old tall stone monuments were razed to the ground in a matter of seconds, and many big and small craters formed on the ground as they quaked the place. The shower was only brief, but the destruction was enormous.

    Both Eleyn and Seraphis could only look at it in awe. The ethercraft can still be polished, and they both can cast more destructive ethercrafts. But this was definitely not what anyone would consider as a ''beginner level''.

    They stared at the desolate landscape that was once a beautiful desert for some time before deciding to head back.

    But there was no need for them to head back as the ''time'' decided to head back and take them with it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes, laying on the familiar patch of grass, but this time, there was no d¨¦j¨¤ vu. He could still remember what all had happened, though not in detail.

    He got up, his master was leaning in on a sword. She had knocked him out on that patch and was waiting for him to wake up. He did not want more sessions of spontaneous air travel, so he decided to turn the course of his lesson.

    "Master!" Judge readied his wooden sword, hoping this would go the way he needed. "Why is it that all of your blows are heavy, even a light slash."

    Seraphis stood up from her leaning position, "It is an ethercraft principle, but let''s get down to the basics first shall we?"

    "Master please tell me a bit about the principle," Judge bowed... for the first time. It felt really unfamiliar, "Maybe I can defend better."

    His master did not seem convinced, she eyed Judge for a bit, as if she was deciding whether or not to feed her cattle today. "Alright," She let out an exasperated sigh, "Come on, follow me. Let''s see if you can endure this then."

    Yes! Judge celebrated internally, but he could not forget about Percival. So he quickly sent a mental message to Lucifer¡ª No Hawthrone, since he was not wearing the mask.

    ''Hawthorne!'' He called out, and continued without waiting for a reply. ''Your two targets for today, don''t kill them. And definitely don''t let them out of their house... Don''t forget to wear your mask.''

    There was no reply, but it came in just a bit. ''Yes! Recorder'' Judge could sense the hesitation and surprise in his voice, which meant that he didn''t remember events before time turning.

 Chapter 53 - 53: When the practical gets a theory

    Judge sat inside a dark room, the only source of light was a kerosene lamp that seemed to contain too many mechanical components for a simple lamp. Contrary to the house, the lamp had a proper steampunk aesthetic.

    Seraphis sat opposite to him on the small round table, setting the scene as if he had taken up divination as a problem solver and was trying to get answers from her.

    She put a wooden mug on the table, the rim was made of some golden metal, but it was not gold, probably brass. Why was it getting more steampunk all of a sudden? He was seriously starting to question the pacing and world building.

    "Now! Judge, focus" Seraphis gave him a sharp gaze, one that spelled trouble. "You are a dragon, so naturally you are powerful"

    "Yes ma''am," Judge did not know why but he just agreed to whatever she said. But a sudden thought got stuck in his mind, he never knew any language from his world. He could understand Seraphis and Selena because both spoke using translate.

    But how could he understand Percival and especially Clara? He never sensed any ether from them. He understood them as though he was talking to them in his mother tongue¡ª Wait... Mother tongue?

    What was his mother tongue called? He tried to remember but all he could speak was the foreign language he had everyone use in his new home. He could not even remember the name of his old language.

    Judge was starting to panic, he could still vividly remember his old life, and everything people had said to him, but he could not recall the language. He could not recall from when onwards this happened, maybe it happened just after he was reincarnated to this new world.

    He still knew two languages used in the current world, one was the dragon language, and the other one, he did not know. But during their encounter, Percival and Clara both spoke that language. On that thought, even Lucifer spoke the same language.

    He had no idea what was happening, but he suspected and blamed Clio for everything. It was a sweet feeling, something indescribable.

    Blaming Clio was like a dream come true for him, since she always helped him, he needed a reason to blame her other than her dangerously carefree attitude which was too similar to him and his mother.

    Turning off his EC, He decided to focus back on the lesson. The slowed Seraphis became normal and continued on with her lesson.

    ...

    The first part consisted of her just telling him... No, nagging him about how he was a dragon and had access to a vast pool of ether. But when it came to psyche, she just told him that he needed improvements and refused to elaborate further.

    Then she explained how her principle was highly complicated since it required extreme precision and a very quick cast time. Explaining in simple terms, her principle was based off the fact that muscles inside a person''s body never work at full capacity.

    So she not only found a way to overcome it and use 100 percent of her muscles, but she even managed to negate the side effects. Her principle did not stop there, she made the muscles more stronger than before.

    Now she could exert the strength that could surpass about twenty five million newtons, but at a cost. "Just to put it into perspective," She was explaining as she watched Judge''s jaw hit the floor. "An average person could only produce about thirty to forty newtons, it could go over a thousand if you use ether."

    Judge was still dumbstruck, he looked lost. The numbers were astronomical, but Judge was more surprised about some other, more important, factor. And it was a serious question that he knew he was not going to get answers for.

    ''Who even named the force "Newtons"? At least try to be original'' He could not think of anything else.

    But Seraphis continued, taking up a stack of books & papers and putting them on the table. It was time to learn her principles, which snapped Judge back to reality.

    As he was learning the principles, papers kept piling on the small table. The principle was growing in complexity, and, considering her brain, Judge wondered how a brute such as her could produce such an outstanding craft.

    Of course, the principle of nothing was more complex, but it was better explained. The fact that his master''s principle needed to be activated and deactivated quickly made the ethercraft more complex than just plainly using the principle.

    Seeing Judge daydreaming, Seraphis decided to take it easy and become closer to him through a simple small talk.

    "Judge," She said calmly, but the response was rather loud. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "What?!" He jumped from his seat, only to be seated again with an embarrassed face. "Sorry." He apologized, but there was no sincerity.

    Seraphis sighed, this was going to be harder than she thought it would be. "Tell me about your siblings." She smiled, but this time, fortunately, it was not creepy.

    "Huh! What about them? They just exist... I guess" He replied nonchalantly, he was getting uncomfortable.

    "What about your father?"

    "Well... I saw him all covered in blood and all but, he has been missing for a few days, so... I haven''t seen him."

    "Grandpa?"

    "He''s... Great... Hehe" He let out a light, forced laugh.

    "Judge!" Seraphis stood up "I know I am asking questions to a baby but do you not like people?"

    Judge was surprised, but quickly got to a crescent moon sitting position. "Well, I like Mom and Dad."

    "Everyone else?"

    "Well, I have not yet been acquainted with them since I am still a newborn." He lowered his head.

    Seraphis went near him and sat down, she patted his pack lightly. When she realized that he was getting more comfortable and calmer, she hugged him tightly. "Judge," She said calmly, but this time, more comforting.

    "Be honest with me... Do you not like people? Or do you hate the idea of getting to know new people?"

    "No... I... uhh" He lifted his head, staring at the wooden window frame that let the faint evening light in, it was almost nighttime.

    He sighed, he was getting an unfamiliar feeling, it was warm and comforting, but at the same time, it was uncomfortable. He felt a lump in his throat, a tight feeling he only felt when he was a kid in his previous life.

    He let the comfortable feel wrap around him as he opened his mouth to answer. He needed to get this weight out of his chest, a weight he had been carrying since his previous life.

 Chapter 54 - 54: The dead leaves a lesson, always

    Judge was lonely, more than he could tell anyone. So he desperately searched for someone to put his trust in, someone to watch his back. And that someone had betrayed him, as everyone else did.

    He wanted to close himself off, he wanted to not trust anyone again¡ª But there were his parents, people who always trusted him. But his loneliness still was a big void inside his heart, a void that he desperately wanted to fill.

    He decided to drop off that weight, he wanted to speak to her honestly. He opened his mouth, thinking on what to say to her.

    "Master," He began, speaking slowly. "You are right, I seem to have closed off my trust to anyone but my parents."

    "To me," He continued, "Every betrayal is a reminder that even the most solid walls can crumble under the weight of deception. My defenses are fortified by many shattered promises... and still... I remain vulnerable to the next smile that hides a knife. My weakness is my own longing for someone to trust, a weakness I can never get rid of." He smiled, pitying himself.

    Seraphis looked at him seriously, she did not know what he had gone through. But as his master, she had to at least make him feel comfortable with her, solving his trust issues could come later. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Judge," She slowly caressed his nape, "Let me tell you a story... a story about a village full of strong warriors."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In the olden times, on the northeast coast of the continent. There lived a tribe who were considered the strongest of warriors.

    They were not only feared for their strength but were respected and held as a form of admiration by many aspiring fighters.

    Their strength was unfathomable, and so were their techniques. Movements so beautiful that looked like a maiden''s dance.

    Their mastery over their ether was almost as good as the elves, and their ether volume was nearly as great as the dragons. Even their psyche was as good as the goblins.

    Many referred to their tribe as the ''Invictuses'', But their true name was said to be ''Valors'', some texts say that they referred to themselves as ''Auctoritas''. These are all referred from an ancient language called Latin, with many speculating that it was their tongue.

    As they lived near the forest of Devfronds, there were many monster attacks. But those attacks were what made them stronger, and they only grew in strength as time passed, but many of their comrades were sacrificed.

    As time passed, there came a year when the monster attacks got more aggressive than ever, more frequent than the previous years. But they did not falter in front of the adversaries, like true warriors, they emerged victorious.

    But the cost of that victory was just as great, too many of their comrades were sacrificed, too many to even count. The outcome was extremely heartbreaking.

    They did not leave even a single body behind even though they were tired, they held funerals for everyone. During the events of the funeral, a young man who had lost both his parents and his sister to the monsters got up and suggested to the heartbroken warriors¡ª He suggested that they build a fortress, one with walls so strong that it would hold back even the strongest of monster rampages.

    The villagers, who were also in the same state as that young man, unanimously agreed to his suggestion and started to prepare to build the fortress. They neither saw the need nor considered the consequences that would come from building such a fortress.

    Together, they started to build the ultimate fortress to keep away the monsters. Their resolve was strong¡ª driven by a desire to never endanger their loved ones again. Many lives were still lost while they were building their safe house.

    Many died while trying to collect materials from monsters or from monster territories, many died while trying to defend their new, unfinished home. And a few lives were lost to the construction.

    But they toiled through as they always had, and finally built an undefeatable fortress. A fortress that could withstand even the hardest of battles.

    Time and generations passed since the building of their fortress, and their battles changed. The proud warriors that stood tall in the face of adversaries now were battling monsters within the safety of their walls.

    Hard times create strong people, and strong people create easy times. Easy times create weak people, and weak people create hard times. Slowly but surely, their strength faded, replaced with battle strategies to be used within their walls.

    But as the old saying goes, "No fortress is eternal; even the strongest walls yield to time."

    These walls were not an exception. On one fateful day, on another normal monster siege, the walls crumbled, and the monsters got inside.

    On that day, the warriors of the Valor tribe, including the children, took their final breath. It was said that a river of blood flowed from inside the fortress, dying the ground red.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge was absorbed into the story really well, but he hated the ending.

    "Now Judge," Seraphis called him, she was still caressing the back of his head. "Tell me."

    "Hmm," He voiced his approval,

    "Why do you think the whole race, full of strong warriors went extinct?"

    "Why you ask?" He looked at his master, not meeting the eye. "Because they build a fortress and avoided conflict that improved their skills."

    "You are half right," She smiled comfortably and moved her gaze forward, "The real reason was that they shut off themselves from the challenges life threw at them, only to be crushed under those challenges that they tried to avoid.

    "But there was a good reason why they build that fortress, it was to keep their loved ones safe from those monsters that they always fight against. But where did that leave them at the end?"

    She paused, letting Judge absorb what she had just told him. "But," Judge began, "They did not know of such an outcome."

 Chapter 55 - 55: The darkness makes a move

    "But, they did not know of such an outcome," Judge said, still not looking directly at his master.

    "Exactly," she said in a tone which meant that he had just proved her point. "Judge, you are in the same situation, you do not know what kind of consequences come from locking yourself in from others."

    Judge now looked up, meeting his master''s crimson eyes. "Judge!" She said in a serious tone "Your defenses are built from many shattered promises, and you wear them like armor. I understand that, more than you know. But here''s the truth you might not see yet, those defenses, they don''t just keep betrayal out¡ª they lock you in.

    "You''re still carrying the weight of every knife that''s ever been twisted in your back, and it''s stopping you from reaching the one thing you want most¡ª trust. Your longing for it isn''t weakness; it''s your heart''s way of telling you that you''re still alive, still capable of connection. Don''t mistake that for fragility¡ª it''s your greatest strength.

    "Keeping your distance away from people will only hurt you more. And the way you laugh of every bad thing that happens to you, I am familiar with such a person, people who laugh the most are people who are the most hurt. You, are hurt by many of those you trusted, the only one whom you can trust is yourself.

    "You cannot think that someone would never betray you, but you can trust in your ability to overcome that betrayal. No one betrays without reason Judge, no one."

    There was a long pause, neither of them spoke as Seraphis let Judge absorb in what she had just told him.

    "Then master," Judge, who was still focusing on the caressing of his master asked without looking up. "Do you trust me... even if I may one day betray the trust that you gave me?"

    She stopped her caressing and paused for a moment before holding Judge''s shoulder and turning him towards her. "Judge," she shook him lightly, "Trusting you... Is my choice, I would decide on whom to love. And I love you dearly. But proving me wrong?¡ª It''s your decision to make, and yours alone.

    "To me, to trust someone and to love someone is different. But let me tell you something. For those whom I love dearly¡ª I would give my whole being just to protect them."

    Judge felt that lump in his throat again, a tightness that he never really felt before. Even if he did, he had forgotten that feeling.

    But his master continued, "What about you Judge, would you die for those you love?"

    Judge looked up at his master again, but this time with eyes that showed no hesitation, "I would burn the world for them." He had one doubt in what he had just told her, he had always been like that. He knew that he spoke the truth.

    "Good answer." She patted and caressed his back lovingly, and then she got up, "Now back to studies, you need strength to burn the world right?"

    Judge smiled, he was a master at manipulating, but she had just gotten him to study honestly. It was a new feeling, he had let his guard down unknowingly.

    ...

    Clio, who was watching the whole story unfold, gave a sad smile. She knew something that they did not know, and she knew how sad the truth was.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Lucifer stood in an alleyway, he was ordered by his master to not kill his target. Even though he did not know why, he stood there, obeying the orders to not let them out of their home.

    He was already suspicious about the whole request, the commission was too high for just killing a disabled man and a child. Now that his master had found something odd with his targets, he had confirmed his suspicions.

    The man was also acting weird, he was yet to investigate thoroughly, but the man had a thick, dark, and disgusting ether around him. The child still has not noticed it yet because she has not learned anything related to ether.

    In the country of Eldris, which was also the continent''s name, children usually start to manifest ether from the age of ten. That was the norm.

    This was because ether was a natural energy that every living being needed to survive, so attempting to manifest ether at a young age would draw in the ether needed to sustain themselves, effectively killing them.

    So most manifest ether when they reach the safe age of ten, with some geniuses manifesting ether at age eight or nine, but that would be natural. However, there were some legendary races such as dragons and phoenixes, races from which children could manifest ether at a very young age, with some dragons manifesting ether from birth, though only in extremely rare cases.

    But those two races were just legends, there was no proof that they existed, except old stories that told about the destruction the dragon race had caused almost two thousand years ago.

    Then there were another two legendary races¡ª Vampires and Avians, both races were the opposites of each other.

    Vampires were nocturnal, and together with another nocturnal race¡ª ''Nocturne'', they lived in the lands of shadows, where the sun does not shine. The Nocturnes were a race that served the vampires.

    Similarly, the Avians are diurnal beings, they lose their powers in the dark according to how dark it is. They live in a place where the sun does not set, but some of them come to the settlements of other races to act as saints of their church. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Both beings are rarely seen outside of their territories since they are afraid of having to fight while they are weak.

    Lucifer was born as a vampire, but strangely, he did not possess the strong qualities of a vampire, nor was he weak under the sun. And he also knew of the existence of dragons, though he did not know about phoenixes or cloudstriders, a legendary subspecies of dragons.

    As he was lost in his thought, he suddenly heard a loud crash from inside the house, followed by a loud scream of the little girl, Clara.

    He quickly checked if all of his offensive tools were ready and headed towards the sound.

 Chapter 56 - 56: Wow! Someone have enough free time to cause chaos

    Lucifer silently jumped in through the high window in order to see what was happening. The scene before him was taking a dark turn, little Clara was crouching in the corner, trembling and desperately but hesitantly looking for an exit.

    The man, Percival, was covering his head with both his hands, he was shaking violently. The dark ether surrounding him was oozing out, it has gotten even more thicker and more disgusting.

    Lucifer jumped in, his master had instructed him not to kill, so he had to make sure they do not die of other causes too, unless his master instructed him otherwise.

    He rushed to the girl and touched her head, his dark green necklace started to emit light as the wind started to spiral around the girl. He removed his hand, allowing the wind to form a thick barrier.

    He then turned to the man kneeling on the ground. Percival was turning his head left and right extremely fast, and he started to scream and bang his head on the floor. "No!... Please..." His pupils were gone, and the white eyes were becoming redder.

    Slowly, darkness started to seep into his eyes through the side, making his thrash the ground and scream in pain. He got up and started walking like a heavy drinker. He sprinted forward and hit a wall, blood dripping from his forehead.

    He finally stood up straight, his arms waving down loosely like a laundry set for drying, it was as if they had lost all of their strength. He froze, his body twitched, his elbow rose quickly like an external being was using his body.

    Lucifer knew what had happened to him, "Possession!" He muttered.

    It was rare to be possessed, since ordinary people needed to pay a huge cost if they were to use possession, which sometimes even resulted in death if not done properly.

    The usual culprits behind possessions are entities without a physical form. But it was rare for them to take interest in the living.

    But he had seen this once before, and the results were devastating. He had sacrificed most of his power from his previous encounter with possession. Even the place where that battle took place was ruined and now is a flux zone, a land with aggressive and untamed ether.

    He readied himself as bad memories flowed into his mind, was this why his master said not to kill them? He wondered if trying to kill him would have invoked possession right away. "No wonder the two hundred sten reward he muttered."

    Percival''s head turned back like an owl, and like a badly programmed robot, the rest of his body followed. Both of his eyes had turned dark. He leaned forward, preparing to strike. And without warning he rushed Lucifer who managed to draw his blade in time and block the attack.

    ''Master, the man has been possessed as you expected, I am sorry I have engaged in a battle.'' He sent a mental message to his master as he deflected another blow, stepping to the side as Percival lunged at him, hitting another wall and dripping more blood.

    Fortunately, he had put Clara to sleep. Even though she was still his target, he did not want to mentally destroy a girl his master ordered him not to kill.

    But unknown to him, she was awake, but unable to open her eyes or mouth, like her body was asleep but her mind was awake, unable to wake her body up.

    Lucifer collected wind in his left arm and blasted the possessed monster away. He was surprisingly weak for someone possessed. Possession had many constraints, and one of them was strength, a person needed to be very powerful in order to attempt possession.

    But Lucifer noticed something¡ª every time he was hurt, the dark ether within him increased in volume. He needed to finish him off quickly, but his master had yet to answer.

    ''Do whatever you can to stop him'' His master''s reply came, ''Kill him if you are unable to do that''.

    Lucifer was relieved, he could now kill his enemy without restraints, saving him was, obviously, never an option for him. He was not an expert at possession.

    Lucifer quickly closed his eyes and opened them again, calling the wind to his aid. His pupils turned green, he held his arms forward and crossed his fingers.

    ''Wind''s Mercy'' He said calmly as the monster rushed forward with broken arms. The air around them shifted, the monster Percival did not take more than two steps before his head flew from his head rolled on the ground.

    But this time, it was not just his head that Lucifer cut, he also cut the entire body to pieces. He knew that a possessed would not be killed by just severing their head, experience was said to be the greatest teacher. It was the same for Lucifer.

    He hoped it would die if he at least cut it enough times. But shattering his hopes, it began to recover. But parts did not connect the way a human should look like.

    He could only describe the entity in front of him as a true horror. It had a few teeth and two toes in the place of its eyes, there was one eye instead of a mouth, and an ear on a cheek.

    Without waiting for Lucifer to finish inspecting its body (Because who does), it swung its arms. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lucifer quickly made a shield to his right by thickening the air around him. After absorbing the impact, he blasted the arm back with enough force to tear it away. The torn arm made of hair, cheek, and a leg hit the wall, forming a fissure.

    He jumped back to get a proper footing, he kneeled on the ground. Using wind as a propeller, he jumped forward, swinging his sword as he was about to make contact.

    He cut directly through the monster''s chest, but it was futile. Dark ether spewed out and mended its body.

    He was angry at the regenerative monster, but he hoped his master would soon reach him and he had to hold on.

 Chapter 57 - 57: One with the wind

    Lucifer attacked the monster relentlessly, only for it to regenerate and attack him back. Luckily he had gotten a catalyst from the ethercraft researcher''s room that could hold an immense amount of ether inside, that was the only way he could carry on with the fight.

    A strike came from his left, he jumped back instead of blocking. He felt air moving around behind him, he could not take his eyes off the monster, but he took a quick glance.

    It was Clara, who was sleeping, he had forgotten about her. He instinctively put a shield in front of him, deflecting a rather stronger blow. Now he also had the girl to think about, his master had only told him to kill the man, not the girl.

    He jumped to the side, cutting the monster in half vertically with the wind. He was trying to get the monster''s attention, and luckily, he succeeded. The monster turned to him instead of the girl.

    The monster roared, this was a house in the middle of the town, but the people outside seemed to be continuing on with their business as usual, the person trying to possess the monster might have put up a sound barrier.

    He swore in his head as he rolled to the side, avoiding another blow that cracked the ground. If someone had heard them and called the city police, that would be a lot of work off of his shoulder.

    But he could not complain, he had taken up a work worth two hundred stens of commission. And it was his responsibility to ensure that he completed his work... Just after he figured out on how to work his way through the regeneration.

    Through fighting, he was getting the familiar feeling of being ''one with the wind''. It was a sensation he could never forget, an experience he was longing for. He knew that he was getting more and more powerful, he was regaining his former strength.

    But he had tried to do it for a long time, and this was the first time he had succeeded. Maybe it was the influence of his master, he silently thanked the Recorder.

    With newfound confidence, he again lunged at the monster, holding his sword firmly in hand. He dodged a wide swing by ducking and channeled ether to his sword. He jumped up and landed on the monster''s head.

    "Detonate," He said calmly as if he was just sitting there and sipping tea. But the ethercraft was not calm at all. The monster''s whole body exploded, painting the whole room red with charred flesh, and blasting Lucifer away.

    As the caster, Lucifer knew about the outcome and had protected himself from gore with a thick shield made of air. He still held the sword''s handle firmly as he deactivated the now red barrier. He hoped things just ended here, but he knew otherwise.

    The possession was not complete yet, and whoever was coming, it was an incredibly powerful existence. He cannot do this alone, he needs help. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ''Master!'' He called Recorder mentally, ''I am sorry for my incompetence, but please lend me aid''. He had fought expecting Recorder to come, but somewhere along the duration of the fight, he understood that his master expected him to finish this.

    The time was running out, and the monster was regenerating, but this time it looked more like a human, no, it was a human. The only difference was the eyes without pupils, they both were completely dark.

    It was bent backward after regenerating, facing him. It got up, with the joints clicking into place with a cracking sound. Lucifer did not need a lot of information to understand that the possession was complete.

    It turned around, and gave him a smile that stretched all the way to its eyes. But it did not talk, making Lucifer wonder if the possession was complete or not. A complete possession would result in the ability to talk.

    If it could not talk, that meant only one thing. The possession was not complete yet. Lucifer got a new sense of motivation to fight, he was getting his old powers back, and the possession was yet to be completed, he could do this. (Disclaimer: Never attempt this when you are transported to another world, you could actually jinx it.)

    The possessed Percival opened his arms widely, welcoming Lucifer to attack him. It hurt his pride, being looked down upon. "Don''t look down on me!" He screamed as he lunged in for another attack.

    "Gale reaper" He said to himself as he propelled forward with the help of the wind. Sharp and invisible blades of wind formed around him as he moved forward.

    The blades did not even touch his enemy, Percival waved his hand and Lucifer was blasted back. He had grown stronger, but was no match for the person in front of him. He could not even fathom how powerful the actual entity is.

    He formed a wind barrier behind him to absorb the damage he got when he was blasted onto the walls. He was getting desperate, this was not a person, he could deal with his current strength. Not even half of his actual strength had been returned.

    He had called for his master mentally and he had gotten no response, ''Does he think I can do this on my own?'' He questioned his own strength.

    A thought suddenly came to his mind, he was not Hawthorne now, he is Lucifer, The Sin of Pride. He got up with new resolve, if he was a sinner of pride, then he had to be prideful.

    He extended his right hand, and started chanting-

    "From creation''s dawn to this very day,

    Oh beings of wind, I humbly pray,

    Heed my call as you once swore,

    Serve me well, till I breathe no more.

    Vanquish my foes, with fierce might,

    Even in death, let me stand and fight."

    Powerful gales started form around Lucifer''s right arm, his left hand was firmly gripped on the right one as he groaned in pain. But he had finish the spell or it would go out of control and exhaust his ether.

    "One with the wind!" He screamed the words through his pain, the gales becoming larger and more ferocious.

 Chapter 58 - 58: One without the wind

    "One with the wind!" Lucifer screamed in pain. He could no longer properly control the violent winds, but he could still keep them within the large house.

    The furniture was all torn into pieces, like tattered cloth rags, and the ground looked as if a wild predator had marked its territory. Violent wind blades made the whole place into a ghosthouse. With scratch marks all over the place.

    The possessed monster, Percival, had stopped smiling. He looked rather serious, sparks of electricity flew around him as he defended the invisible, sharp blades that came towards him.

    The being looked at him with disdain, slowly raising his arm, the palm facing backward. A dark aura was cast out from his palm, slowly turning into a long rod. Another lump of darkness was also cast from his palm, traversing down the long rod and forming into a sharp, curved blade at the end of the rod.

    He held forward and inspected the scythe he had just created and then readied himself to attack. Lucifer, who was having a hard time controlling the violent wind, directed his shape wind toward the man. But the possessed Percival''s skill with a scythe was on a whole different plane of existence.

    Lucifer watched in horror as Percival effortlessly fend off the invisible blades, sparks of darkness flying out as blocked the sharp blades. He walked forward, deflecting the attacks aimed at him.

    Lucifer concentrated, "Concentrate," He was talking to himself, "assimilate into the wind, become one with it." He was trying to perform an ethercraft he performed in his peak. but it showed no signs of success.

    Lucifer took up his blade once more, if the wind was not working, then he could use the one he was most confident in, it was his sword skills. Skills he had trained to achieve, those skills never left him, they only grew in mastery with training.

    Lucifer lunged at him, but without any wind propelling. He clashed swords with the Percival, whose skills and speed were both better than his, but his winds helped him to stand on equal grounds.

    Sparks of darkness flew out as they exchanged blows with one another. He could hear the clash of metals, but he was one hundred percent sure that the scythe was not made of metal.

    He aimed for Percival''s head, who leaned back just enough to avoid the blow, following up with another attack of his own, it was a swing that could not be blocked or dodged, but the thick wind was enough for him to block it.

    Their exchange continued with no regard for property, both forgetting the existence of a child sleeping inside a wind barrier. Fortunately, Percival''s attention was all focused on Lucifer. It might be because of the creepy white mask he was wearing.

    Lucifer suddenly felt a chill, as if he was in the presence of another grand entity. Percival also stopped his attacks. Both were looking for the source of the strange energy, but Lucifer soon found the familiar feeling of his master. He smiled, turning back, "You have arrived master." he spoke in a subtle tone. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Recorder materialized behind him, but there was another masked young girl behind him, she wore the same mask as Lucifer, and two other ladies behind her, both of them wore a plain black mask without any features other than its two eyes.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Clara could hear a fight going on in her house. One was Percival, another one was the intruder who came in through the window.

    Percival had started to act strange since morning, and now he was screaming and lying on the ground. She was unsure of what was happening, but her legal guardian¡ª Miss Mina, had told her to not leave the lab the day before.

    She had disobeyed her instruction because she was bored and wanted to play with Percival. Now that she had sneaked out and headed back to her house, she saw a strange Percival, and now an intruder who was fighting him.

    But something was wrong, the intruder was strong. And had also put up a barrier and put her to sleep, she knew that all of it was to protect her.

    Many questions ran through her mind, the most important question was how could Percival hold against a person this strong? And there were other questions like, Is the intruder sent by Mina? Did she know about Percival''s strange actions?

    She could not think anymore, her mind was starting to fade. It was a miracle that she was still awake despite her body being put to sleep. Slowly, her thoughts vanished, and she fell into a deep sleep, she heard just one thing clearly before fainting¡ª "Me and My Devil."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Oh! he seems weak," Seraphis muttered, adjusting her mask uncomfortably, "I really wanna fight him after the possession is complete."

    "While I do agree with you," Eleyn answered, "It would be better to finish the anomalies early."

    Without another word, Selena shot a fireball at the possessed. Which he easily deflected, but the next blow was not as easy. Seraphis lunged forward, swinging her thin sword weakly.

    The monster smiled and tried to deflect the sword with his scythe, but he was blasted back and hit the walls, bending his body in two... sideways.

    That was when Lucifer understood why their fight never destroyed the house, there was a barrier supporting the structure. Someone had planned all of this in advance, must be his commissioner. He had fallen into their trap.

    The monster got up and adjusted its waist, it clicked into place with way too many uncomfortably satisfying crack sounds. It then corrected its broken arm, clicking it into place with another crack.

    It spun the scythe in a clockwise motion and caught it, abruptly stopping the spin. Dark ether started to spew out of the weapon, it walked forward, and the dark ether was starting to surround the monster.

    Lucifer stepped back, the fight had gone out of his control. All he was right now was a mere watcher. He looked at his master, and the two women behind him. The black mask was as tall as the Recorder, the other one was around three inches shorter.

    Seraphis and Percival engaged in a more fierce battle, her face told that she was genuinely and thoroughly enjoying the fight before Eleyn came in and stole her entertainment.

    The clash of metal ensued as Eleyn stepped forward and raised her hand to touch her chest, she bowed slightly, and spoke in a voice unlike her usual one, it was deep and more refined. "Me and My Devil." Just one sentence was enough to wipe the smile of Percival, it was like he knew how potent the skill was.

 Chapter 59 - 59: Core? I Hardly Know Her!

    The whole place went cold, freezing the whole place. The moisture in the air became visible and white, covering the surface with its white beauty. Eleyn stepped forward, the air around her was quite perverse. It was hot and was melting the ice where she stood.

    Slowly, the ice-cold atmosphere started to turn into extreme heat. The entirety of the ice started to melt, the air was starting to get distorted and blurry as the water vapor started to disperse.

    The place was as hot as inside an oven but nobody felt the heat, rather, it was more of a warm and comforting atmosphere. But the monster Percival was not so lucky, he tried to put out the fire as it burned his green vest.

    Flames started to appear around Eleyn, they formed a pair of folded wings and two horns, but they were longer and more twisted than the ones Judge saw on his father''s head. Her eyes, her pupils to be exact, were set ablaze.

    She propelled towards Percival with the flaming wings giving her a boost, the possessed had no choice but to dodge. But it was still in vain as half of his abdomen was burned to crisp in an instant.

    She followed up with a kick without allowing the enemy to recover, but Percival quickly made a wall of darkness to protect himself. But she shattered it, though with some effort. He moved to the side in a flash and tried to cut through her unguarded back, but a hand made of flames stopped his scythe mid-track.

    He looked up to see the being that had caught the blade, it was an entity made of fire. It had two glowing red dots in place of its eyes. It looked more or less like a devil as it smiled creepily.

    Percival let go of his weapon as he jumped back and summoned more darkness. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a screech that sounded like multiple voices were wailing loudly.

    He produced another scythe, but this one did not have a solid blade. Rushing forward he stricked Eleyn again, the scythe changing shape midway and becoming short. Once his swing passed through in front of her without touching, he changed the shape again, together with direction trying to slice her again. But was blocked. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "It is starting to get more intelligent, the possession is not even halfway complete," Seraphis muttered, the only person near her was Lucifer.

    She looked at him again and spoke, "You were frustrated about the regeneration huh?"

    Lucifer did not answer, but he gave a very subtle nod. He was not trying to be disrespectful but his ethercraft, the one with the wind, had taken a huge toll on his body. Even moving his tongue seemed too big of a task.

    Using the ethercraft for a few more minutes would have made him immobilized. He could recover by drawing in ether from his catalysts, but he needed to recover just a bit for his body to be able to take in the ether.

    "You see," She sat near him, "When a being is getting possessed, it is natural to have regeneration, you should look for the core. There would be a core placed... no, designated inside the victim for the possession to take place. It is not external, rather, there should be an organ in which all the ether would be focused upon. You need to completely destroy that."

    Lucifer shook his head weakly, which went unnoticed by Seraphis, he had experience from fighting a powerful possessed before, and had won even though it had cost him greatly. He was really familiar with the regeneration and core.

    He had cut open the possessed body multiple times already, and there was no core organ anywhere inside the body. He was keen when it came to sensing things related to ether, and he had made a hopeless discovery.

    The whole body was like a single core organ. Whenever he cut them there always equal amounts of ether within each and every part of the body he cut. The ether would seep out from them and concentrate somewhere, with all the pieces joining together there.

    The first time, joining was messed up and created a monster. The next time, it joined in a proper human shape, which was a sign of the possession getting more complete and the being getting more intelligent.

    Seraphis deflected a wave of darkness that was headed toward them, "Damn it Elleyn, can''t you finish this up properly?"

    "I could have but there seems to be an anomaly." She shouted as she redirected a swing from the scythe.

    "What anomaly? And speak more loudly the town cannot hear you."She said, (Translation: Speak quieter, I can hear you. But my pride won''t allow me to say it properly.)

    "There doesn''t seem to be a core in this being!" She wanted to counter, but there is a suitable time and place for that, and this was not one of the options.

    "Huh?!" Seraphis was confused, she was not the best when it came to ether. She barely knew other principles apart from her own. "What do you mean by ''No core'', You expect me to believe that?"

    "It is your choice to believe, but I am speaking the truth." She tore off an entire arm of Percival. Along with the scythe that seemed to be growing in strength.

    Judge was getting sick and tired of just standing around, he wanted join in on the fight. If the problem was regeneration¡ª then he could use a little of nihility to completely erase the enemy. He sidestepped to avoid a slash of darkness that was burning.

    But, as always, there were problems. First was that he still did not know how to use it properly, and the target was large. Second was that he had exhausted almost half of his ether, and the principle for nihility was rather ''ether consuming'', this was despite the fact that it required a huge load of psyche too, a department that he lacked in.

    He could still cast it with the psyche he had, but the problem was ether. He had exerted too much will that used up a lot of ether from his reserves, he needed a catalyst. When he was in his clone, controlling ether was what required ether.

    The battle was intense, and the place was nothing like a house. His mother started to draw in more ether from her catalyst, not that she was short on ether, but she was going to cast another principle.

    She started to chant, psyche would be affected by the state of mind, and she was currently fighting melee, so chanting was a good way to ease up the psyche consumption.

    "Oh servant of flame who lay in the nether

    your master calls, arise from thine slumber,

    Show the path that leads the fire

    Claim the ruins that you desire,

    Destroy all that which you see

    For I do not show mercy."

    "Hell''s mercy," She said as she extended her right hand to conjure a sword made up of pure flames, two chains came from the handle and twisted on her hand, positioning itself securely.

 Chapter 60 - 60: Judges new goal, meet the worldbuilding department

    Everyone watched her as Eleyn swung her sword vertically. Percival dodged back, but she was not trying to hit him with that swing, but something else. There was silence for a fraction of a second before a slash of flames cut Percival in half, burning the two sides.

    The whole barrier surrounding the inside of the house was destroyed, and the flames had reached the nearby lake, splitting it in two. Screams ensued from the town as the line of fire that was sent forward erupted and exploded, burning anything and everything that was close to it.

    Lucifer could not care less about who lived and died, but this would invite trouble. The police force from even a town as remote as Tross would be quite formidable. He wanted to chide the lady, but he held himself back. Partly because he could not talk, and partly because he had good survival instincts.

    Also, seeing that the woman had caused this much destruction without breaking a sweat, he knew the police would hesitate at least a bit. He breathed heavily as he tried to recover from his fatigue.

    Seraphis looked at him, and after thinking for a brief moment, she called Selena toward them. "Michael," She said it so naturally despite forcing herself to say the title, she cringed internally. "Heal this gentleman. If only you want to, of course."

    Selena looked at her mother, she had put her in a tight spot. She had only started to learn ethercraft recently. She had been told of the principle from her master, but it was still hard.

    But she had used a lot of healing magic in her past world, way more than she could ever hope to remember. But the problem was that her previous world''s magic system was not based on principles. She just had to know what she was doing.

    She remembered the desperate cries and angry shouting from a battle in her previous life. She was still a child, unknown to the world''s orders. She just did as she was told, healing people and helping with the chores.

    "He can recover on his own." Selena did not want to take a gamble, "Let''s conserve our strength for when we truly need it." The monster was burned... no, evaporated, leaving nothing behind, not even ashes remained.

    But she could still sense a bit of residual ether, it was normal that her mother was taking it easy since she could not sense that tiny bit of ether that remained.

    The fire dissipated, and Eleyn walked over as if she had just taken a stroll along her garden. "The monster is still alive, I need to do a power sealing ritual to keep the regeneration at bay, takes time." She said as she took out a purse from behind an embroidery flower on her dress.

    "Which means we either need Alex or Lord Gereon to kill this guy without the ritual," Seraphis muttered as she unsheathed her sword. The monster was regenerating from nothing, first, a blob appeared, and then, two arms popped out from it. The body was slowly formed as legs shot out and the blob expanded to create a chest and abdomen.

    It was the first time for Judge to see the blade of his master. She had never fought without unsheathing her sword in front of him before. The blade was dark red, like blood that was never wiped from it.

    A thick red mist started to surround the thin blade, "Chi no Kiri" Seraphis muttered in a chilling tone, she was getting serious.

    Judge was not sure of what to think at this point, he needed to contact the world building department and request a rework... Japanese? really? First, it was Latin, he did not care much because he was not in the right state of mind to care, and now it was Japanese. What''s next, English? Oh wait there was a diary in English. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He gave up on thinking.

    The possession had gotten stronger as Percival smiled eerily, it was not the smile of a foolish creature that only knew how to attack and defend, but it was a smile from a creature that has the ability to think.

    She readied herself, but unlike the other two, Lucifer and Melina, she did not lunge forward to attack. She was reading her enemy, as a melee specialist, she was not the type to rush in rashly without a plan... Yes, you heard that right.

    "Nebula Sanguinis," Percival spoke, the voice was understandable, but it was surreal. It was a mix of various voices, young voices, old voices, and male and female voices. It was chaotic, he adjusted his throat, and the voice became more clear.

    "Nebula Sanguinis," He repeated, looking at the blade that Seraphis held. He spoke with confidence, as if he was just having a friendly talk with his colleagues. "A fine blade... I must admit, it is rare to see a wielder who has not lost their sanity." He held up both of his arms.

    Seraphis''s eyes widened in surprise and she rushed forward and cut both his arms. "Huh?!" She seemed even more surprised as both arms fell, because she only cut one. Not just fall but they were disintegrated, crumbled into ash. She did not do that, and she did not know the name of her sword was Nebula Sanguinis.

    She saw a purple flash from the corner of her eyes, but did not have enough time or the luxury to investigate.

    Percival was not surprised with two arms that were dripping blood. "quite feisty aren''t you, little bird" He said as he stepped back and ducked to avoid swing. The wooden support behind him was turned to a red mist, only the part that was cut.

    He tried to regenerate his arms, but they were not coming back, wiping the confident smile off of his face. "You! What did you do?" He asked furiously. Leaning back to as another attack came through. Shifting his center of gravity, he raised his leg to strike her chest.

    Seraphis stole a glance at Eleyn, "She completed the sealing ritual?" It was rather too quick, even for Eleyn. The power sealing ritual took a lot of time to even prepare. She could not take a good look at Eleyn as she blocked a strong kick from Percival.

    Percival stood up straight and created his arms from darkness. "The Nubes Draco is annoying." He shouted and raised his arm toward Eleyn, who was just sitting there, unguarded.

    Seraphis, who watched what he going to do, rushed to protect Eleyn, there was a great price to be paid by whoever broke a ritual, but this guy was strong enough to avoid it. Her efforts were in vain as he shot a blast of darkness at Eleyn.

    A ritual was different from using ether or psyche, it was a medium used to ask the gods for help. But the results may vary according to the god''s satisfaction, the initial stage is a stage where offering are made to reach the attention of the god.

    The next phase was the important one, it was known as the Audience phase. It was the phase where you pray to god, and god will answer to your faith and plead.

    But if anyone dares to interrupt the phase, they will face god''s wrath, only the strongest may survive, but even they would suffer permanent injuries. This was common knowledge, so she wondered if the man was foolish to attempt such a feat, or just cocky.

 Chapter 61 - 61: Judge vs. A Very Stubborn Projectile

    Judge activated his enhanced cognition, the dark projectile turned slow. It was hardly moving, but so was his body, he had just one chance here, and he had to make good use of it.

    He concentrated, if he could just make a space of nothing in front of the projectile, then he could definitely block it. He tried to let the ether flow through him, which was not much, but just enough to create a small pocket. And just as he created a pocket of nothing, a thick wall of earth appeared just there.

    Selena was just standing around and doing nothing, she wanted to fight, but the fight was not something she could participate in. She was mesmerized by the attack her master did with the flame sword, she felt proud of her master.

    She now looked at her mother fighting the enemy, she could not see their movements, they moved at such a speed. Suddenly, the man got up and shouted "The Nubes Draco is annoying."

    She was confused, ''Nubes Draco''? It was her first time hearing the term, but she could think more. She saw the man creating two arms from darkness and pointing one at her master. She did not know what was going on, but she had the urge to protect her master.

    She instinctively cast a thick wall of earth, the wall broke the furniture and stood tall like an immovable mountain, but before she could hope for the best effects, a spherical hole was created where the dark projectile met the thick wall she cast.

    She panicked for a second, but then noticed that the projectile had disappeared too. She heaved a sigh of relief.

    As she watched, her ''thick'' wall became distorted and was crushed and crumbled into a ball as if it was a piece of paper. She could feel the ether from the walls go into the space where her wall and the dark projectile met. The wall vanished slowly as the ether from it leaked out.

    But before she could ponder on what the problem was, she heard a thud behind her, it was Judge. She rushed to him, she could think of nothing else, as if she was driven by an unknown force to help him.

    Seeing that everything was alright, Seraphis twisted her waist and spun her whole body, doing a full three-sixty before taking all of the force and giving the guy a good wake-up kick.

    She could hear bones crack as he flew backward and hit the remnants of the broken barrier. Completely shattering the place of impact, and flying backward into the town, restarting the cries outside.

    She did not wait for him to recover, she closed her eyes for a second and opened them, changing the pupil to an orangey red color. Two massive wings sprouted off her back as she jumped up into the air and flapped them. Going out of the building through the slit Eleyn had caused.

    Once outside, she spotted a few trying to get civilians to safety through a teleporter.

    Teleporters were expensive, incredibly so that they were rarely used, even by the nobility, but the rules states that the police should not mind expenses when lives are on the line. So the teleporter was being used actively.

    She let out a sigh of relief as she watched the scene, she could do the explaining to the police later. She needed to take care of this problem without much more damages, and quickly too at that.

    She looked at the recovering Percival and descended toward him so fast that all that could be seen was just an orange line. She kicked Percival in the gut gracefully, making him vomit blood. As Eleyn had finished the ritual fast, and he could not regenerate, she was sure that it was fatal.

    But her expectations were shattered as Percival jumped back from under her grasp and recovered at an immensely fast rate. But strangely, his arms did not recover and were still supplemented by darkness.

    There was no time to contemplate what was happening¡ª because everything went dark. It was not her getting knocked out, but the whole world was shattering. It was being consumed by darkness.

    "Welcome to my domain, Mortal," Percival spoke in a serene voice. It was deep and chilling, she looked around to see the unescaped people and the police were still there, but all the structures were gone. Replaced by a world with an endless void of darkness.

    Seraphis was getting more questions than answers. She had an inkling about what kind of being was possessing Percival, her disciple had requested assistance, but this was on another level.

    The possession was still not complete, she was unsure of how much of the possession was complete, but the being was very powerful. She wondered if the entity was a god, but that was unlikely, since gods rarely interacted with mortals outside of rituals and blessings. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seraphis suddenly spat blood, she tried to move, but she could not. Her body was unresponsive, there was no restrictive ethercrafts that had been cast on her. She felt as if something in her was being drained out, making her weaker by the second.

    She looked down at her chest, there was a dark blade that had struck her from behind, it was bathed in her blood, gleaming without a light source. She spat more blood as she fainted, all she could see was the gleeful laugh of her enemy.

    Selena''s smile spread through her mind, and her moments with the vulnerable Judge. She wanted to get back up and fight, at least for them, but her body was dragged down and refused to move.

    Her daughter, who was holding Judge in her arms, watching the whole scene from afar, screamed in horroras she saw her mother being split in two.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge opened his eyes, it was darkness as far as his eyes could see, he blinked, still darkness. He tried to get up but he could not move an inch. Wasn''t he just watching his master fight Percival?

    "Judge"

    He heard a soft voice, a voice that almost made him forget all his worries. He tried to look around to see the person, but it was impossible, he could not move still.

    Without warning, the ground started to rise beneath him, making a seat for him to sit. "Clio," He smiled without thought, she was sitting and eating popcorn as usual, but he somehow felt more close to her.

    "How was your world?" Judge could still not get over her mocking laughter. It was as if she was pitying his entire existence, all of the warm feeling from before was replaced with a face of disdain. And to make it worse, she had his mother''s appearance.

    "What do you mean ''was''? Don''t tell me I died." He was clearly panicking, it has been not even a month before he was born.

    "You did not die, it''s just that you have not yet been born." There it was the infamous cryptic goddess'' speech.

    "Ah yes, my favorite part," Judge muttered sarcastically.

 Chapter 62 - 62: Judge: Did I Just Die? Clio: Not Yet, Drama King.

    Judge needed a break, he had been fighting nonstop and now of all time, he had to meet Clio. And he still has not found a good psychiatrist. "Clio," He knitted his brow and spoke honestly. He could not still move his body, but changing facial expressions was possible, and moving his head was possible, though only slightly.

    "I have been in a nonstop drama¡ª Starting from the D¨¦j¨¤ vu, to talking to you" He sighed internally.

    "Do you know how much trouble that Percival caused? That guy turned back, now he turned into a monster," Judge''s voice was raising, "and he even decided to attack my mother... and what even is a ''Nubes Draco''?"

    "Judge, calm down." She said seriously.

    But he was anything but calm, "That time turner bastard, I don''t even know what happened to my mother." His eyes showed pure signs of panic.

    "JUDGE!" Clio shouted, and that got his attention, he stopped talking to listen to her. "Calm down first." She seemed down for some reason.

    Judge took a deep breath, it seemed he could move his internal muscles. "Okay... I am calm" He then sat in silence, allowing her to speak. He hated her for being such a child, joking around at such a hard time.

    "Judge, listen to me now." She was definitely not in the lively spirits that she usually had, she seemed rather sad than anything. "Time travel is never possible, even by a god. The happenings of the present are recorded in the Memoria Mundi, which in your previous world, it is called the akashic records. And those can never be changed unless you can access the said records"

    "Then how?"

    "It is not time travel... You are all in an illusory world. You still have not been born in the real world yet."

    This was a time where Judge should be confused, but his head was calm, and could think clearly, it was the work of Clio, he was sure. Thinking back, people sometimes acted out of character, and he could sometimes not think clearly to form a plan.

    When he first saw Hawthorne signing the contract, all flustered. He thought it was something that the paper reveal. But after he read it, that was just his name. Hawthorne was a being too prideful to bow down to some who just found out his name.

    They were certainly anomalies, and he did not even care about them. It was like his mind was clouded... as if he was just in a dream, a dream in which he could think, but not properly.

    As he was deep in his thought, Clio continued on with her explanation. "You are in a world created by the god of night and false realities¡ª Tenebris. He was also who was trying to possess Percival."

    Judge tried to nod his head, all to no avail. He was in deep thought, absorbing all that Clio was saying.

    "The outside world is frozen, nothing except time moves there. Tenebris was trying to descend onto the mortal world through possession, but it is more complicated than just possessing someone.

    "For a god to possess a person, they need a strong resonance, which is, of course, a rare phenomenon even among rare things. Next was that they need to possess an abundance of the god''s power, which can achieved through blessings.

    "The last thing was the willingness of the victim. Tenebris and Percival met none of these, but there was one thing that connected the two. And that was his extreme faith in the god of night, and possessing a unique divine power, one that was similar to the power of Tenebris.

    "So Tenebris took a gamble and created an illusory world with Percival as a medium. All because he wanted to walk in the mortal realm once more."

    Judge listened in attentively, his expressions softened, "I am sorry Clio." he was having trouble finding the right words. He had shouted at her for being immature, but the one actually being immature was him. He felt sorry for her, who had to put up with him.

    She smiled, it was genuine, and he did not feel annoyed or the usual warmth. "Don''t be, Judge. I am honestly happy whenever you spend time with me."

    Judge looked conflicted, but finally smiled and spoke "I will take that as a compliment." he did not say ''thank you'', he did not want to dampen the mood any longer.

    "Now listen to me carefully, I need you to understand a few things before you are actually born."

    "I''m listening."

    "I could only communicate with you because you were still in the illusory world. The same goes for both your and Selena''s parents." Her smile was bright, it was doing a bad job at conveying what she had just told him.

    "You mean!"

    "Yes... I won''t be able to visit you and talk to you anymore"

    The whole place went silent, Judge felt a familiar tight feeling in his chest. He just had a vulnerable moment with his master, and now the vulnerability was returning.

    He tried to speak, but nothing came out. His voice was hoarse, his eyes started to become blurry.

    Clio came forward and held his head in her arms, "Don''t cry, Judge... This is the fate of every being. Goodbyes are a natural part of life, you have to accept it and move on." She said as a drop of fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

    "The thing is, after the illusory world shatters, nobody would remember what had happened inside. Not even the caster.

    "So, Judge. Please forget about me and live peacefully, the time you have spent with me till now is more than what I could ask for."

    Judge could not speak, he wept in her arms silently. He did not know why he was crying, he never liked her that much to begin with, he always found her annoying. But here he was, unable to utter a word, just because she said they could not meet again.

    "Forget about me, but don''t forget to provide me with stories okay? I feel quite lonely with nothing to do."

    "Yes..." He sniffed the words out with difficulty. "I''ll... I''ll make sure... to provide you with the best ones."

    "That''s my boy," She retrieved her arms, Letting him fall towards the floor, which absorbed him inside. "Don''t forget to care for yourself okay... Love you... Judge." She spoke in a happy tone even though she was crying herself.

    Judge remembered a line that he heard long ago.

    "If you want to be kind, you are tested with cruelty,

    If you want to be strong, you are tested with difficulties S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And...

    if you want to love, you are tested with loneliness"

    The scene of a lonely Clio, sitting in a dark room, alone and sad came to his mind, she was crying.

    He was trying to take it easy in this life. He was just joking around with the idea of world domination.

    But now he had a new goal, a new purpose. He had to see her smile again, the smile of someone who hides their loneliness, he had to make her smile genuinely, and for that, he had to become a god. No matter what it took or how much it cost, he had to meet Clio again.

    He knew what it was like being tested with loneliness, and she had lived for eons, he could not begin to understand her pain, he had to bring her joy.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Selena still could not get up, some force was holding her back, wanting to nurse Judge. Her mother had already died, but she fought against the forces, her urge to run to her mother was strong.

    She was in a daze, she could hear someone screaming, it was her own voice. Her throat hurt, she had no strength left in her. But she got up and slowly walked toward her mother, tears dripping down her weak face.

    She could not discern between reality, she wanted to believe¡ª no, hope that her mother had not yet died. But she knew that it was not true. She fell to the floor weakly, she saw the man who had killed her mother and held up her wand.

    The ruby etched on the handle started to glow as she chanted.

    "From the skies, the servants rise,

    Seraphim, with wings of fire,

    Heed my call, O angels wise,

    With your light, descend and sweep,

    Reap their souls, may sinners be punished."

    Crimson fog started to come out of her pupils, "Trumpets... of apoc..." She fainted before she got the chance to finish her move. Before fainting, she saw a tall figure out of the corner of her eyes.

    ...

    Gereon was late to arrive at the scene, he saw a young girl fainting near his grandson just as she had finished her chanting. There was a body lying on the floor, it was split in half, and he knew the owner of that body.

    It was Seraphis, his son''s childhood friend, along with Eleyn and Corwin. They all went to the academy together. He prayed silently for her to rest in piece, he knew the world was an illusion at the moment when the whole world turned black. But he did that out of habit.

    He looked over to the man who was floating in the air as if he was high on some drugs. He marveled at the strength of the entity that was holding.

    The possession was not even quarterly completed, and it was nearing his strength in his human form. He had felt the energy of this being before from the cultists that attacked the dragons.

    Back then, he felt as if he had to transform into his dragon form to defeat his enemy. But that was just the feeling he got from the energy of this being''s blessing.

    Without waiting even a moment more, he decided to strike. He could not let such a powerful being roam in the world. And there was no shortage of being this powerful. One more would definitely hurt.

    ...

    Tenebris, the god that was trying to descend through possessing Percival, tried his hardest to complete the possession faster. It was almost a quarter way through, while complete possession was a challenge, he could not take chances. There were at least a handful of beings in the mortal world that could rival the gods.

    He sensed a strong entity near his descending place, an entity that could rival the gods.

    Tenebris (Now Percival) looked to the side to see a huge, towering dragon beside him. He tried to rush the possession even faster. He could not always put his hopes in the regeneration.

    ...

    The dragon Gereon inhaled slightly, the enemy had noticed and was trying to rush the possession. But now that he found him, there was no escape.

    Geroen smiled, but it was not visible with a dragon''s face. "Me and my Devil" He muttered, and the whole place went cold.

 Chapter 63 - 63: A new beginning always require letting go

    The whole place went freezing. Slowly being overtaken by extreme heat, but unlike when Eleyn had cast the same spell, there was no scream coming from Percival. He was burnt and disintegrated, quickly, painlessly.

    Ashes fell down, from which Percival again regenerated. The ashes came together as if they were being mixed like cement, and a black blob appeared.

    Two dark hands shot out of the thick and disgusting blob, then came the legs, but unlike the arms, they turned from a black fog to a white skin tone. (No the author is not trying to be a racist)

    Gereon watched calmly as the enemy was regenerating. He hated this type of guy in the past, but now, they were his favorite toys. "Regeneration huh? Must have been a good life, not worrying about hospital fees." His eyes were gleaming with joy.

    But he had no time to play around, he needed a good sleep outside of this illusion, so he decided to end the fight quickly. "Hell''s mercy." He voice was calm and chilling despite the heat.

    The dragon extended his hand, a flame sword appearing in its palms. Fires started to erupt from its blade, and without further ado, he slashed down.

    Fire went ahead in a straight line, slashing Percival in half. He did not burn, but just turned to dust and vanished. The whole unending darkness shattered, and everyone inside fell asleep, including Gereon, who quickly turned back into his human form.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The newborn kid cried, he could not open his eyes, but he knew what was happening. He had been born as a baby, he silently thanked the story deity for reincarnating him. He could feel his mother''s warmth, and a slightly sweet and tasty liquid entered his mouth.

    ...

    It was night time, and he could finally open his eyes without hurting. So he opened them and took a look around. The room had a Victorian era aesthetics, it was Judge''s favorite, not only were the interior designs a sight to see, but the sharing of information was also limited on this kind of setting, so a lot more pathways for manipulative battles were at his disposal.

    He would take it easy in this life, maybe do a small business venture, and maybe even try his hand at magic. He could only do so much in his last life, so he should live a fulfilling life in this world. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He remembered what powers the deity of stories had given him, the three skills that he chose. He could use them to do more than the job she had given him. He could pull people into the Studio and manipulate the space, he was confident that he could make anyone accept to be under his wing.

    All he needed to do was pull in someone who wished to be strong and with high self esteem, and let psychology do its magic.

    He remembered what his mother had told the others while feeding him. He could understand the language, he had heard about his name ''Judge''. He did not hate the name, rather, he was glad that they did not name him doctor or engineer, which would have been awkward.

    Then there was the siblings part, he had heard what she had told to two young voices, "Amber, Liam, this is your baby brother, see?" She then held him towards them and he got a few calm strokes to his head. He did not like that part, why did he need siblings? He cried when they were caressing him in order to assert dominance.

    As he was recounting what had been transcribed on the first day of his new life, a portrait of a beautiful lady caught his eye. Hanging on the wall adorned with a wallpaper that had golden prints.

    It was his mother''s portrait, she looked just like she did in her previous life. Deep blue hair and another pair of ice blue eyes. Her hair was neatly folded into a bun and fastened using a hairpin.

    She wore a green full skirt with an emerald corset, there were several embroidery flowers of different colors, but it was just enough, not too much. Her bright smile brought a warm feeling to his heart.

    Then there was another picture, which was of his red haired father, he wore a black tailcoat, a black vest, and a white shirt.

    There were many embroideries present on his attire, golden buttons, and chains. he stood with a silver inlaid black cane in his hand, a black top hat with a golden token was the final touch.

    The next portrait made him uncomfortable¡ª his mother was sitting on a chair with his father. There were two children present, one was a boy with blue hair sitting on his mother''s lap, and there was a red haired girl who was standing in front of his father.

    He looked up in disgust, there was a brass chandelier hanging above. It made his hunch of the world being a steampunk one true. He wanted to sleep, but a red curtain caught his eye.

    The curtain was letting in a faint blue light, which let him see the room. But he felt as if he was forgetting something. It was somehow related to the blue light behind the curtain, but he could not put his mind into what it was.

    He could feel it at the end of his tongue, yet so far away. It was as if he had walked into a room and had forgotten why he did that in the first place.

    Suddenly, a wind blew through the open window, lifting up the curtain and letting him see the skies outside... and the bright, blue full moon.

    His head hurt as memories flew into his brain, memories of his time in the illusory world, his time in the dreams. He wanted to cry in pain, but no voice came out, he wanted to move, but his muscles refused to budge.

    After a brief moment, when he could finally move. He instinctively turned to the side, call it a baby''s instinct, because he had turned to where his mother was sleeping beside him.

    He grabbed her loose nightgown and held on tightly, he felt afraid, afraid of what kind of memories had entered his mind. But he decided to take the risk and look through it.

    Slowly, but surely, he started to remember his time in the illusory world created by Tenebris. He remembered Hawthorne and how he came to accept him as his master, it was not something that would happen under normal circumstances, but the dream world had many irregularities when it came to people''s minds.

    Then the scene went on to his fight with Seraphis and the scene of Selena accepting him as her master. And finally, his talk with Seraphis and then his talk with... Clio, the deity of stories.

    Tears started to swell as he thought about his trusted diety. But he held back the tears and took a determined decision. He would rise up to be a god, no matter what it took or how much time it took. He could not give up before he achieved his goals.

    Information was what he needed the most now, information about godhood and how to ascend to a god, even a tiny bit of info would do. And what place was better to get information other than the library?

    He should head to the library as soon as possible... after he had gotten bigger. Clio had warned him that things would not go as smoothly as they did before. His mother''s senses were extremely good, now that they were not masked by Clio''s efforts, it was impossible for him to leave unnoticed.

    He got into thinking, making himself relaxing slowly. He let go of his mother and passed into sleep, his thoughts faded into random dreams. His mother turned to him, half asleep, and slowly caressed his head.

    Soon, morning came, bringing in some annoying maids. Judge had almost forgotten them, he cried and pleaded to his mother for her to rescue him. But she only took that as her baby being cute and send him to bathe in the hands of the maids.

    Judge cried loudly as the maids washed him, he watched them with disdain while harboring a thought to lampoon their efforts, but it was not possible for a baby.

    He had his breakfast after the bath, and the two annoying siblings came into his room. (Actually his mother''s)

    ''How dare you step into my private space,'' He shouted in baby tongue.

    "haa, cute! He''s trying to speak!" Amber held his head and rubbed her cheeks against his.

    "Oh Amber, Liam," His mother spoke, "You both should get ready to head to the palace. it''s today."

    "Yes, Mom!" They both spoke in unison, much to Judge''s discomfort.

    "And remember," Her face grew serious, "Never mention anything about dragons, especially anything about you being a dragon... Okay?"

    "Yes Mom, we promise," Amber said excitedly, she was not curious, maybe because she already knew the reason why.

    Judge watched as they hurried off, chatting excitedly. ''Children'' He thought to himself and shook his head, at least he tried to. But he remembered one thing, they did not go this early to the castle, it was after a few days.

    He then understood what Clio meant when she said she had been helping him understand the world better. She was slightly changing the actions of people to another action that would benefit him.

    Clio... He no longer cried at the thought of her, he could still see her.

 Chapter 64 - 64: Dear dairy, I beseech you, please write yourself

    Judge, a three-year-old dragon who could barely see over his own snout, sat beside a desk on a chair that was definitely not built with dragon tails in mind, not that he had tails in his human form.

    He had lived for three years and had recorded various experiences, but most was just his daily life. He''d been giving messages to Clio with the stories, and now he had a good grasp on how recording worked.

    If he was recording while wearing his mask, he would be invisible to anyone and everyone. He was more like a spirit, passing through walls as easily as getting embarrassed in front of your crush.

    He had lived for three years and not once was he given the chance nor taught how to transform into his dragon form. But he had seen his sister do it once, she had been taught how to transform when she turned nine.

    He''d been given his own room when he turned three¡ª because apparently, dragons believe in tough love and early mortgages. Sleeping alone was now his nightly challenge, aside from figuring out how to brush his teeth without setting the bathroom on fire, because dragons still breathed fire even in base form.

    Dragons grew up faster than a rumor on the internet, but weren''t exactly known for their brains. Fortunately, Judge had the good sense (or sheer luck) to pick "enhanced cognition" at the otherworldly buffet of essential life skills.

    He was hailed as a prodigy after some guy brought in by his grand father announced he had ether since birth¡ª he was not sure how that was special, but he just took it as he had won the baby lottery.

    From then on, the compliments flowed like free samples at a supermarket. It was all "Oh, look at Judge, he can recite the alphabet backward!" and "Did you hear? He knows how to tie his own shoelaces!" Not that the shoes that he wore had laces, but the compliment was appreciated.

    Recently, he''d learned that dragons were considered a myth in the world. They roamed around disguised as wyverns¡ª a sort of budget-friendly dragon with fewer limbs. "So we''re pretending to be the knock-off version of ourselves? Great plan, guys," Judge thought sarcastically. It was like a celebrity going incognito by dressing as a cardboard cutout of themselves.

    He didn''t know why dragons were playing hide-and-seek with the world. When he asked his mother, she gave him the classic parental brush-off: "You''ll understand when you''re older."

    Fantastic. A cliffhanger. The only thing he hated more than cliffhangers were sly old foxes, greedy suck-ups who acted friendly just to mooch off his success, and Vine¡ª not the app (rest in peace) but the drink that killed him... and his Dad... also his Mom. Speaking of which, the image of Seo Jun''s face popped into his mind like an unwanted popup ad.

    Snapping out of his daze faster than you could say "dragon sneeze" (which, by the way, is a leading cause of forest fires), he refocused on the task at hand. He glanced at his diary¡ª the one he''d been forced to write in since turning three, because nothing says ''happy birthday'' like mandatory journaling.

    To keep his thoughts private, he''d been writing exclusively in English¡ª a language as foreign to dragons as modesty was to peacocks. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He had only seen English in the diary of the researcher who researched ''nothing''¡ª something that involved nothing. No ethercraft principle using nothing. Why did all of the explanation make the principle feel like nothing important... oh wait.

    He couldn''t remember his mother tongue, but English was just hanging out in his brain like an old roommate who never left. He examined the diary''s cover, custom-made just for him because regular diaries apparently couldn''t handle the sheer magnitude of his thoughts.

    The diary spanned from October 18, his birthday, to October 17 of the next year. Today was the last day he''d use it¡ª time flies when you''re a prodigious dragon with existential questions.

    Unlocking the book (because privacy is paramount when you''re recording the secrets of dragon kind), he turned to the first page. The title read "Judge Drakonis," which sounded way cooler than he felt.

    Underneath was the date range: "18 October 2008 ~ 17 October 2009 ¡ª Aetus Nova." Aetus Nova, or AN, was the current era¡ª not that he''d been taught that yet. He knew the previous era was called Custos Aetas, which he suspected was Latin for "We ran out of cool era names."

    Putting aside any further distractions¡ª like pondering why dragon society was so obsessed with secrecy and uncomfortable chairs¡ª he picked up his fountain pen. Sure, there was a dip pen available, but who was he, a 19th-century calligrapher?

    He flipped to the last page and began jotting down his daily experiences, starting with how he had accidentally cast a fire magic in his room while experimenting with principles and setting the expensive curtain on fire, again.

    Good thing that they were filthy rich. And also the fact that the whole household was fireproof because... well, dragons and inflammable material aren''t exactly a fit match.

    Dear Diary,

    Today the whole house was highly active, everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow. It is my birthday, dragons mostly manifest ether at the age of four or earlier. the ones who manifested ether at the age of four would show something basic with the ether, since it was difficult to grasp a principle without experimenting beforehand, most just put up a simple show.

    Children who master ether before they turn four, show off what they have learned. Which is funny considering that dragons do so little in terms of learning a new principle. If they just put in a little more effort, they could be immensely stronger than we currently are.

    I decided to show a move that my Mother did when she was fighting the Tenebris guy.

    Hell''s Mercy is a principle that my grandpa invented. He is also a person who is actively trying to get more dragons into learning principles. He is my role model to get stronger, he said that Dad was as strong as him, But I haven''t seen both of them use ether other than teleporting.

    Grandpa said that I should start studying from Melina once I turn four, which is exiting for me since I like her kind personality.

    News came in two days ago that her father had died, but she just said "Oh, Okay" nonchalantly and brushed it off. I am only hearing about it today. I am curious about her history with her father, would it be rude to ask her about it? Maybe I will wait a while before asking.

    The judge looked at what he had just written. Yes, that was long enough, he had only emphasized what he had previously noted. There was no reason to recount today''s events since none were noteworthy. However, he felt compelled to add something he included at the bottom of every page.

    I will come to get you, Clio

    He always wrote that to remind and motivate him to attain godhood. He had yet to search the whole library to get clues on how to achieve it, partly because he could only access it a few months after he had turned two. And the other reason was because it was so damn big.

    He folded the book, and a parchment flew out. It was a paper in which he had written how each letter of the English alphabet should be pronounced, just on case he forgot that language too. He was too lazy to create a dictionary with meanings.

    He took the paper and put it inside the diary before locking it by the belt that was around the book. He then put the keys in his Studio. The book was not entirely un-openable without the keys, but dragons were good at keeping their distance from other''s privacy.

    Judge bent back on his chair and stretched both of his hands high. He let out a loud yawn and turned off the ether lamp that was on his table. Blue Moonlight penetrated the otherwise dark room.

    He separated the red curtains and opened the glass window. Watching the blue moon, it was his favorite thing to do, since the moon always made him feel like he was watching Clio. There was a blue moon behind her when they first met.

    After a long while he turned back and headed towards the bed. He did not close the window, since his mother had told him that the windows had protection runes on them, and leaving them open or closed won''t matter.

    Runes were used in rituals to call the spirits or other lower entities, but they were incredibly useful if used in the right way. He heard from Melina that it was his mother who had set up the runes on every window, she said it took a whole month to be completed with the efforts of many other helpers.

    His consciousness slowly faded as soon as he hit the bed. Tomorrow was a big day for him, and he had spent his entire day in the training ground and the library, he wanted a much needed rest. He let the soft cushion pull him into his dreams.

 Chapter 65 - 65: Tavern brawl, when ice meets portal

    Limdon, a city that never slept¡ª mainly because if you did, you might wake up without your purse¡ª was bustling as always. Home to over a million, its streets were alive with opportunity... or at least the illusion of it.

    For every successful deal made, a hundred wallets were lightened, a hundred hopes crushed. Life was very hard in a city as big as this, especially in places like a tavern, where fights broke out as frequently as the bartender''s complaints.

    And today? No different.

    A broad-shouldered man and a lean woman were circling each other in the center of the tavern, their gazes locked like two wolves over the last scrap of meat.

    The man wore a shoulder guard and a tasset, giving off the vibe of someone who liked to look intimidating. The woman, meanwhile, was clad in a light, full leather armor, and a cloak draped over her back, and both wore a white mask with a smiley face that blended so well with their face it looked like it might be glued on. No one could tell where the mask ended and their skin began. Creepy? Maybe.

    Both had knives strapped to their backs, but no one had gone for them yet. The crowd, naturally, was loving every second of it.

    "Don''t let that brute win!" yelled one woman in the crowd.

    "Teach her a lesson!" another man shouted.

    "Fight! Fight! Fight!" the rest of the tavern roared, because subtlety was not the specialty here.

    Behind the counter, the bartender rolled his eyes. "Remember, damages are on you," he called out, returning to his glass polishing. "The rules. City law. You know the drill."

    He turned to the nearest customer when called, "What do you like, sir?"

    The second bartender, though? He was just wiping glasses with the intensity of someone who knew more than he was letting on, eyes flicking between the fighters like this was the most interesting show in town. Which, given Limdon, wasn''t that hard to believe.

    As for the fighters, there was a lot more going on than a simple tavern brawl. The woman clenched something in her hand¡ª something small, purple, and definitely important. A card. The man''s card. And the tension between them crackled like the air before a storm.

    "You know that''s mine," the man growled, eyes narrowing.

    "Come and take it, then," the woman replied, voice low but teasing, as if she were daring him.

    They both stood still for a moment, scanning each other for weaknesses. Then, the man feinted forward. The woman flinched, just a fraction, and that was all he needed. He barreled forward like a runaway carriage, aiming a punch at her midsection.

    The woman wasn''t having any of it. Just before his fist connected, she flicked her hand upward, conjuring a pillar of ice that she could use as an assistance to dodge, neatly avoiding the blow. Rolling to her feet, she summoned an ice gauntlet, twisting her body to send the gauntlet smashing toward him. It was a move that screamed, "I''ve done this before."

    The man dodged backward, barely escaping the frosty kiss, but his balance betrayed him, and down he went. Flat on his back. The crowd howled in laughter.

    "Oooh, embarrassing," someone muttered.

    But the man wasn''t done. No sleeves? No problem. An orange portal flickered into existence beneath him, and suddenly, he was falling through the floor and out of a portal just above the woman. Midair, he twisted, aiming to bring his foot down right on her head.

    "Oh, come on!" she hissed, spotting the portal. She snapped up an ice shield just in time to block the incoming kick, but the force shattered the shield and sent her sprawling back into a table.

    She groaned, dusting herself off, as the crowd booed and cheered in equal measure. Her hand twitched instinctively to the card. And that''s when she realized¡ª it wasn''t in her hand anymore.

    Both of them spotted it on the floor at the same time.

    "Not again," the man muttered, already summoning another portal to grab it. But the woman was faster this time. She conjured a shard of ice from beneath the card, sending it sliding back toward her and at the same time jabbing the man''s arm slightly with the shard.

    "Ow! Seriously?" he yelped, retracting his hand as though he''d touched something hot.

    "Didn''t see that coming, did ya?" she smirked, darting forward to scoop up the card. Just as her fingers closed around it, though, another portal appeared above her, trying to yank her back by the collar.

    "Oh, come on!" she hissed again, dropping into a push-up and rolling away just in time to dodge the man''s grab. She clutched the card tight, flipping herself back onto her feet.

    "You''re really not giving that back, are you?" the man grumbled, though his voice carried a hint of urgency now, as if they both knew they were running out of time for something far more important than this tavern brawl.

    "Not if I can help it!" she shot back, breathless but defiant.

    The two lunged at each other once more. The woman conjured a glacier sword, a long shimmering blade of ice, and pierced toward the man''s arm. Quick as a flash, he opened another portal, but she did not anticipate it this time. The sword passed through one portal and out another, right at his bent elbow.

    He twisted, grabbing the blade''s hilt as it emerged. "You think you''re clever, huh?" With a swift motion, he snapped the sword in half, shards of ice falling to the ground as he surged forward, fist ready for another strike with the broken sword''s blade in his hand.

    "And you think I''m not?" she quipped, "Please, you are just self centered." S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Absorbing the shards of ice to create another sword in her off-hand. She swung it toward him, but he blocked it with the iron guard on his forearm. For a moment, they locked in place, both straining against each other.

    Just then, the tavern door creaked open. The noise of the crowd died instantly as a lean figure entered, he was not tall, but was definitely not short either. His red hair, neatly combed, and a perfectly ironed black frock coat gave him the air of someone too refined to be in a place like this. A golden chain dangled from his waist, leading to a pocket watch kept inside his pant''s pocket.

    He also wore a plain, white mask with a smiley face. But it was more creepy even though it looked the same as the other masks. He had a very commanding presence around him, making other''s feel the pressure.

    "Asmodeus, Gabriel," the newcomer''s voice was smooth, yet deep and commanding like an army general. "Stop this nonsense. It''s time to return."

 Chapter 66 - 66: A very, unnecessarily elaborate docking station

    The man¡ª Gabriel, glanced back, visibly disappointed. "But she stole the card you gave me!"

    "Excuses are unbecoming, Gabriel," the red-haired man snapped the pocket watch closed with finality. "I won''t hear any more of them. And what is this? Even children have more manners than you two."

    In an instant, the air around them warped, and the tavern dissolved into nothing. The trio found themselves in The Studio¡ª a personal domain, the gathering place of the Recorders. Judge, the red haired masked man, sat on a throne upon a raised dais, flanked by a long table with seven seats on either side, fourteen seats in total.

    One figure had already occupied the seat closest to the throne. Lucifer, the sin of pride, lounged with an air of superiority.

    The next two took their respective seats, Asmodeus sat near Lucifer, while Gabriel sat opposite of her.

    Asmodeus, the sin of lust, grinned as she looked at the man across the table. It was Gabriel, the virtue of chastity, sulking slightly as he slid into his place. Lucifer gave a slight, dissatisfied sigh as if he were looking at children having a quarrel.

    Judge had gotten better grasp of his powers these past years, he had made Lucifer submit to him via a script, it was just that simple. He also learned that others did not have to sign any contract to be bound by the skill, they just had to accept him as their master.

    Another thing he did was to improve his ethercrafts, with the enhanced cognition, he could grasp the principles better, he had spent his time improving his grasp of Nihility and the principle that Seraphis gave him, brawl.

    To him, teleporting to locations other than through where you entered is easy as he had mastered teleportation. Now he could move around with his studio.

    He had a good master-servant relationship with the three people present, he had told him that the recorders served a god who had descended to the lower realms as a mortal, the god was him without the mask. Their task was to provide him with stories they recorded.

    Judge watched them in silence for a moment, his mask unreadable. "You are Recorders, and tonight, you would head to the land of dragons" he finally said, voice echoing through the room. "You have one rule¡ª never remove your mask. Not while you record."

    He rose from his throne, teleporting the group excluding himself to the mortal realm, specifically to the bustling streets of Ti¨¦rmere, the Dragon''s Town. With a flick of his hand, he vanished, transforming back into his four-year-old self as he left the Studio behind.

    It was, after all, his birthday.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The House of Drakonis loomed over the city of Ti¨¦rmere like a great stone beast. The castle was absurdly large, with walls thick enough to make even the most paranoid noble nod approvingly.

    Defense towers sprouted everywhere, as if someone had gotten a little too enthusiastic with their fortifications. But the real showstopper was the personal Cloud Weaver dock. In a world where owning a dock was rarer than a truly humble politician, this was the equivalent of hanging a neon sign that read, "We are very, very rich."

    Cloud Weaver docks were typically reserved for large trading companies or travel agencies, not private homes¡ª even for nobles. Maintaining one was like trying to teach a cat to follow instructions: expensive, time-consuming, and usually unnecessary. But the Drakonis family clearly didn''t do "unnecessary." They did "impressive."

    Judge, however, was too distracted by the weight of his formal black tuxedo¡ª especially the navy vest that clung a little too tightly after lunch¡ª to dwell on the castle''s grandeur. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He checked the time for what felt like the hundredth time on his golden watch. Amber had given it to him for his third birthday, and while he appreciated the craftsmanship, it wasn''t exactly helping with his impatience.

    The watch was something else, though. Inside, a detailed engraving showed him, his brother, and Amber, all beaming up at him in a moment of sibling unity that likely never existed. The outer shell was covered in patterns so intricate that even the engraver probably forgot how they started by the time they finished.

    Finally, as if responding to his frantic checking, a massive Cloud Weaver appeared on the horizon, cutting through the clouds like it had an important night date. Judge grinned and started moving toward the dock with all the urgency of a man late for his own scheme.

    He barely noticed his siblings in the rush, even as he zipped past them. Amber was clutching a leather bag like it held all her hopes, dreams, and maybe even a sandwich. "Where''s he off to in such a hurry?" Liam asked, eyes wide with curiosity that only a five-year-old could maintain for longer than a minute.

    "Stein''s coming," Amber said, her voice dripping with the kind of wisdom only a ten-year-old could have. "Judge and Stein are practically joined at the hip. It''s a little weird."

    Liam, never one to pass up a chance to bounce around, started hopping on the patterned tiles like they were molten lava. "You know, Judge took forever to get ready today. That''s not normal. He usually just throws on whatever''s closest."

    Amber chuckled, clutching the bag tighter. "Maybe he''s got a thing for Raphael? They''re both coming, right? She and Stein, I was told she was on house arrest, but no way she would miss the party." She laughed hard at her own joke and had to stop running, doubling over for breath. It turns out, laughing and running wasn''t a combination her lungs were designed for.

    Meanwhile, Judge was busy living out his steampunk version of hallway surfers. He leaped over trays, dodged people like they were moving obstacles, and kept going with the kind of determination that suggested this wasn''t his first chaotic sprint through the castle.

    But when he reached the intersection to the dock, he slowed down. It was hard not to, given the massive wooden doors that seemed to exist purely to make an entrance dramatic.

    He did not have to push through the doors since there were people poring in and going out, he then stepped onto the Cloud Weaver platform¡ª a structure that seemed designed to make anyone standing on it feel important. But there was way too many people, even if he was the star of the party, it was hard to stand out in such a crowd.

    The platform was raised, of course. Cloud Weavers had a habit of being picky about where they docked, so elevation helped keep things smooth. The base pillars that supported the structure were made of reinforced steel and were coated with a material known as Luminary, the ether version of glow-in-the-dark paint.

    This stuff could absorb nearby ether and glow when sunlight wasn''t around¡ª kind of like a magical night light for the wealthy. It was rare, impractical for anything requiring real brightness, and completely unnecessary for a dock. In other words, perfect for the Drakonis family, who had way too much money that they had to spend in order to stay rich.

    Judge couldn''t help but admire the setup. Iron pillars stood in neat rows, holding up an elegant brass roof with circular glass panes. Huge chandeliers dangled between the glass, probably there just to remind everyone how rich the Drakonis family was.

    Three long bridges connected to the landing decks, and each was wide enough to fit a few Cloud Weavers if they didn''t mind cozying up.

    Two smaller ships were already docked, but they looked like rowboats compared to the behemoth heading for the third platform.

    Judge glanced at the massive clock, one that showed time on all four sides¡ª because why settle for one face when you can have four? And a huge lamp rested on top, glowing faintly with luminary that was just there to tell time. It was a marvel of engineering and an eyesore all at once.

 Chapter 67 - 67: Catalyst Chaos: How to Pretend You Donâ€™t Have Too Many

    As the incoming Cloud Weaver finally slowed down near the third platform, ropes were tossed out from the deck like they were going out of style. Workers caught them with practiced ease and tied them to poles. Then, one particularly brawny worker, who clearly skipped leg day in favor of arms, turned a knob on an iron table that was far too stylish to be just a table.

    Ether started to flow through the detailed patterns on the table, and the poles started glowing, and the wheels they where attached to started to spin inward, tightening the ropes and pulling the Cloud Weaver down toward the dock with a satisfying thud.

    Judge watched the ship dock with a masked excitement, his outward expression was that of a four year old who was yet to learn the ways of the world. But inside, he was really excited to see two of his pawns in the grand game of life again.

    Both of them had accepted his terms to work for him, he enticed them with words like ''work together, forever'' and ''I''ll be the leader since I am the smartest''. Two young kids were really easy to manipulate, it was a break time for him after orchestrating industrial battles of information.

    He checked his pocket watch again without knowing why, the ship had finished docking and it took a whole five minutes to get things right and let the passengers head out.

    Everyone shifted their attention as armored knights started to come out one by one uniformly. After they all had gotten out and stood facing each other, they took out their swords and lifted them forward, forming an arch.

    Stein, the second prince of Eldris, walked forward. Together with his father and older brother, both of them were tall and slim. The king wore a neatly tailored, overly ornate regal dress. His blue hair was combed back neatly, there was a sword sheathed on his waist.

    Meanwhile, the first prince wore a white suit with gold embroidery patterns. He had a black bow tie and a few golden chains hanging from his waist. He had blonde hair that was combed to the side, coupled together with the fact that he was a prince, it was no doubt that he had ladies fawning over him.

    Stein immediately ran towards Judge, who facepalmed in embarrassment, "He has no sense of manner or decency... Should I really be using this Idiot over his brother?" he was silently sighing, "No, I can use him." He steeled himself, "A blade must be sharpened before it can cut."

    "Judge!" He jumped onto him to give Judge a hug, Stein was the same age as him, only a few months older, he had blue hair like the king. It was a sign of the royal blood. most of the males in the royal family had blue hair, with rare exceptions like the second prince.

    Soon, a group of ladies came out, and at the center was the queen, she had a blonde hair and almond eyes. Her features were sharp, her dress was red with many colored embroideries of different types. What stood out about her was her ears, they were on her head like a cat.

    But Judge''s focus was on the little girl beside the queen, Raphael, she was the Queen''s niece. Their background was ordinary, the Queen was a commoner from the beast race and she lived together with her brother''s family. They died together with their two elder daughters, leaving Raphael behind.

    Raphael too had blonde hair and sharp, furry ears, she wore an elaborate emerald gown with green flowers stitched on them, she came to Judge as The King, Queen, and the first prince all gave him a heartfelt smile before heading to their designated rest-rooms, they still had about an hour before the party starts.

    Judge, together with his two "Pawns", headed to his room.

    "Hey, Judge!" Stein took out a brand new wand, it was only a few months old at best, "Look what your mom made for me! Isn''t she the best?"

    His wand had a sleek design, the handle was blue colored with silver patterns twisting around from one end to another. The shaft was made of pure silver with a hint of gold and bronze, there was a transparent jewel in the place of a guard between the shaft and the handle, Judge knew it was the catalyst.

    "Huh?! I did not get a wand all this time and you tell me that my Mom gave it to YOU?" Judge acted surprised and jealous, of course, she would not give him one before he was four. But children are not meant to think logically when it comes to these things like jealousy.

    "Your mother made one for me too, it is not exactly a wand, but it is still a catalyst." Raphael showed him her necklace with a white stone embedded inside it, it had an iron holding and silver chains. There was a hue of pink and blue mixed in the white stone, making it look like the night sky, full of stars¡ª but color graded.

    Judge kept up his act of jealousy, "Heh! I hope Mother gives me one during the party as a present." He had gotten many catalysts in his journey across the world.

    He still had not officially gone out of the land of dragons, it was because children under the age of four rarely go out of the land, if ever. It was an unspoken rule, and is followed by even his grandfather who opposes many of the dragon''s ways.

    While he has not visited many places, he has gotten a good haul of catalysts from the researcher''s lab, he had searched the place after Hawthorne had taken the diary, because he visited the place after he turned one year old, after his mother''s watchful eyes relaxed off of him.

    While his collection mostly consisted of one time use catalysts, but there were some rechargeable catalysts with a deep pool ether and catalysts with deep ether holding capacity were both rare and powerfull. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But he was yet to try them, mostly because he could not show anyone that he had it. And even when he went outside, he did not had the opportunity to use them, a dragon''s ether pool was plenty.

 Chapter 68 - 68: Gereon actually says something useful

    Judge had infiltrated the library without other''s knowledge ever since he could walk, but his grandfather caught him red-handed and provided him with books later.

    Even after two years, he still has not finished even a single shelf from the place. They were gigantic, a single shelf was unrealistically long in terms of both length and width. He wondered if the dragons were really as stupid as many books spoke, since none of the dragons had said that their psyche was bad.

    He could still remember his awe when he first saw the gigantic library with the ceiling so high, it seemed that it could almost touch the sky. A massive golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, brightening up the place. There were almost a thousand books contained on a shelf, and there were hundreds of shelves on the first floor.

    Stein rolled on Judge''s bed, the velvet cushion was too soft to pass up. Meanwhile, Judge was busy dismantling a complex glove artifact. There was no catalyst on it so it was not functional, his father had told him to research it to learn more about material alchemy.

    The bored Raphael wagged her long white tail which was previously hidden by her big gown. She had taken off the gown which she had to wear again at the party. She scanned through his collections. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    There were many artifacts that were not functional and were just kept as a trophy. It was Judge''s prized collection, everyone thought so, but Judge did not care about them because he had already researched and documented their engineering.

    It was not typical for a dragon to do... ''Research'', the mere thought would fill them with the urge to puke. The dragons, after all, were free creatures who did whatever they needed, their pride was unmatched.

    As Raphael''s gaze shifted from the shelf to the tea table to the grand, king sized bed that was definitely too big for a child. She went around like a curious child, turning on the bedside lamp, and tracing her fingers on the runes around the window sill.

    Her eyes finally caught a bookshelf, it was made of wood and had a reddish brown hue, it was ornated with gold fittings and patterns. There were a lot of books inside it, both big and small, a particular one was what caught her attention.

    It was termed ''Judge Drakonis'', she understood it was his diary. Even though she was curious, she put it back since she was taught that dragons value privacy a lot. But not before she tried to open it, curiosity kills the cat¡ª and she was a cat, and she still lives.

    She lived because it was not possible to open it, there were no visible locks, but it was locked. She tried her hardest to tear them open, but gave up after a few tries. "You need the key Raphael," Judge, who was watching all this, chuckled after she put it away.

    Raphael pursed her lips as Stein came to her and caressed her head. "Come on Judge, Don''t laugh." He said as if he was not laughing himself, Raphael''s face was too cute to ignore.

    "If you both have nothing else to do." Judge took out two artifacts, both looked the exact same, it was a black stone with three strokes of different colors. The middle one was white, the left one was red, and the right one was blue. "It is a functional artifact, you can draw things in the air, and change ink to any color shown on the surface."

    "Wow, lemme see." Both of them rushed to get the artifact from him. "How do you use it?" Stein took the initiative.

    "You would know when you give the artifact ether," Judge went back to his work, "Just remember that the writing would disperse after a while." He had only about an hour before the party started, so he had to make the most use of time and document his research on artifacts.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Gereon Drakonis sat in his office along with Erec Eldris, the king. To any outsider, it looked as if they were talking about diplomatic matters. But they were just reminiscing about old times.

    Erec had changed out of his regal attire, it was unnecessarily over the top. "Gereon," His voice was calm and relaxed, "My eldest, Renald... He is getting worse by the day."

    "Huh?! I thought he quit drinking."

    "He did, for a little while, but he has started to pick it up again. And this time , he goes to brothels with his noble friends." He stroked his blue beard, "He''s even taken into gambling. You know I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn''t listen, and then I put him on house arrest, but the knights were easily bypassed."

    Gereon slowly stood up after Erec had finished talking, he went to his drawer and took out a cigar, and put it between his teeth after swiftly chopping off the tip using ether, the cut piece fell down and was burnt to nothing. "You see, a cigar is harmful to each and every species. Yet each and every species uses it.

    "Everyone uses it because it brings such bliss to you, and the cost for that bliss is your health. But even this cigar can''t kill you if you do not light it."

    Erec looked at him, confused, it was unlike Gereon to give people proper guidance, since all he could ever do was be annoyingly sarcastic¡ª extremely so. "What do you mean?" He swallowed his pride and asked.

    "What I meant is that, this-" He took the cigar in his hands, "Has the ability to kill me, but as long as I do not light it, it cannot do anything. It''s the same thing with people, you can keep dangerous people, but make sure to not give a window of opportunity to outdo you."

    The king nodded his head, somewhat understanding what he said. He started to see old Gereon in a new light, maybe he had a side like this too.

    But it all shattered when Gereon lighted his cigar and puffed out a smoke, "Did you not just say that it was harmful?" The king let out an exasperated sigh.

    "I said harmful, but why do you think I lighted it?"

    "Why?"

    "Because I have the absolute confidence that it cannot do anything to my body, it is like saying¡ª try me" He laughed as he let out another puff.

    "You are insane." The king took out another cigar from Gereon''s drawer and lit it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge shifted uncomfortably in his navy blue tuxedo, coupled with a dark green vest, it was so dark that the green was faint but visible. His pocket watch was safely secured in his navy blue pants, and the golden chains were dangling out, connecting to his waist, but it was barely visible under the tuxedo.

    The party hall was obviously big, it was grand with a high ceiling and three massive golden chandeliers hanging from it. A second floor balcony wrapped around the entire room, allowing the guests to watch the dance floor.

    Judge was watching the place through a window, he checked his pocket watch frantically, and he waiting for something. He could feel the recorders who were wearing the masks he gave them.

    The party was yet to start, but the place was bustling with people. A giant door with detailed carvings stood on one end, it was closed for the entry of the royal family.

    He kept glancing at his golden watch, occasionally looking at the guests who were at the party, he was waiting for something to happen. Finally, he closed his watch, "It''s about time," he muttered.

 Chapter 69 - 69: Fireworks? Indoors? Judge lives a dangerous life

    "It''s about time," Judge muttered, finally closing the watch and putting it back in his pocket.

    Suddenly, a servant at the door clapped his hands and everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to him. The whole place went dark as all of the chandeliers were turned off, the only source of light was the blue moonlight that the high glass panes let in and the luminary that was patched onto the pillars on the walls.

    The door opened with a dramatic flourish as the royal family entered and the light returned. The King, followed by the Queen, and three children behind them. Renald wore a cream tailcoat with a black vest and shirt.

    Raphael wore a deep ruby gown with a black bodice tied back neatly with golden threads. Stein, on the other hand, wore a royal blue tailcoat with a matching vest and pants. He had a few accessories on the shirt that made the otherwise plain shirt more elaborate.

    Judge was about to enter, but he needed to wait for the king and his grandfather to finish their speeches. The king climbed the steps to the second floor to address the gathering, and the Queen and the others stayed down.

    A butler stood on the center platform between the two stairs that lead to the second floor, he one hand on the marble railing and used the other to snap, the snap echoed throughout the gigantic hall. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Now," His voice was loud, as if he spoke through a mic, "The king would speak, glory to the empire." He stepped to the side and bowed with his hand on the sword on his waist.

    Erec stepped forward in his red regal attire, "I..." His voice was deep and domineering, "Erec rex Eldris, formerly congratulate the youngest scion of the great Drakonis family, the family that has been the face of the dragons even before Aetus Nova. Judge, son of Drakonis on his fourth birthday."

    The audience all gave light clapping, unlike the tavern, there was no cheering or loud noises. The king stepped back to let the head of the house take center stage. Gereon stepped forward, he wore a black tailcoat.

    "How many months has it been lads?" Gereon was not the one to speak formally, and he was famous without it. "My eldest granddaughter''s tenth birthday was just two months ago, and it is already the next birthday of my youngest grandson. Time sure flies fast."

    After a brief speech and easing the audience, Gereon clapped lightly two times. The light, once again, went out. But the blue moonlight, instead of being spread through the room, focused on a grand door that stood atop a small flight of stairs.

    The door opened inwards revealing a figure clad in a navy blue Tuxedo, his long red hair was let loose in a wolf style haircut. Judge descended down, this was the time when he had to show off his ethercraft.

    Judge, as a soon to be mastermind, did not want to attract any attention towards him. So he decided to show off an ethercraft that was not ordinary or too attention grabbing. If he went with the ordinary, people are gonna ask where the genius went, and that was a pain to deal with.

    With a deep breath, Judge solidified the air underneath where his foot was headed. The crowd clapped lightly at his little performance, as if he was a magician doing tricks for them. The claps, of course, were a formality.

    Walking on air did not take up much ether, but the principle was said to be complicated, so not many dragons know how to do it. Judge had learned the principle from Lucifer via script writing.

    But his shows did not end there, if it did, it would be too ordinary. He summoned many tiny clusters of fire and injected them with ether, then he covered them with ice and quickly sent them through portals he made before they melted.

    He then conjured up another ice ball and blew on it for effects. Mist spread throughout the hall as the clusters of fire made tiny eruptions. It was a medieval equivalent of a fireworks display, but indoors.

    Judge descended from the air and stood on the platform, he clapped twice and the lights returned. He bowed with one hand on his chest and the other lifted in the air. He rose again to the avid clapping of many.

    The show was not too ordinary, and was definitely not a show off when it came to speaking in dragon terms. He had put on a show that was expected of a genius, and now he could focus his attention on other matters.

    Judge joined up with Stein and Raphael after an exhausting talk with the nobles, neither of the parties wanted to talk to each other, but it would be rude otherwise. If he had put on a much better ethercraft display, they would all be still flocking to him.

    "Must be exhausting huh?" Stein asked, "Lucky I did not have to go through that on my birthday."

    "Me neither, why did you have to put on such a show?" Raphael asked after gulping down a mouthful of cake.

    "You guys have to do that on your tenth birthday, but it''s much earlier when it comes to dragons." Judge took a piece of cake from the table while trying not to be too horrified by the vine that was being served by a maid next to him.

    "Hey no fair... I am a dragon too!" Stein imitated a dragon''s breathing. He had no care for his surroundings or the people staring at him, thinking ''He might be our ruler one day right?''

    "Stop it Stein you are embarrassing us." Judge turned around, covering his face as if he did not know Stein to begin with.

    "Aww, C''mon Judge, Take it easy will ya"

    "Yeah." Raphael agreed with Judge, she also turned around and covered her face like she did not even know him.

    "Not you too Raphael!"

    As the children were having their time, Renald, the first prince, approached them. He was a person whom Judge despised to his core, a drunkard who is also a big slut. He was also easily manipulated by his so-called ''friends''.

    But still, Judge was not the type to hate someone just because they were a bad talk in all of the social circles. He hated Renald because he was too hard to manipulate, Judge had only one conclusion on how people perceive him as being easily manipulated by friends.

    ''He is deliberately acting'',

    but Judge did not know why.

 Chapter 70 - 70: Churches are alway the grounds for villains

    Judge put up a fake welcoming smile as Renald got closer, "If it isn''t the first prince," He bowed with a hand on his chest, "I am honored."

    "Oh, please Judge... Drop the formalities, you are the star of today''s party." He laughed slightly, compared to Stein, Renald had better manners, but he was a drunkard.

    "I am honored, I thank you for your attention, your majesty." Judge straightened up. "Why don''t you try these cakes, the maids have put a lot of effort into making their best."

    "You are a real gentleman, unlike my little brother." He said jokingly, "I will take you up on that offer then." He gulped down the last of his wine and put the glass on a nearby pushing tray that a maid was using to collect the used wares. He then took a small plate for cake.

    Cakes were considered a starter in this world, they were eaten as desserts in his old world. In the culture of Eldris, desserts were sweet drinks that were usually made from fruit pulps, but what stands out is the fact that they aid in faster digestion.

    In fact, if it is a drink that does not provide an aid in digesting, then it is not considered a dessert no matter how sweet or how much fruit pulp it contains.

    Judge put his plate and fork away after eating the cake in the same tray that Renald put his wine glass. It was almost time for the main course, he had been waiting for this sumptuous feast for a long time. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Stein took another piece of cake and started to eat it, but was careful not to eat without manners. ''Good'', Judge thought, ''he is at least willing to improve''.

    Raphael put away the cake and tried to taste a glass of wine, but was swiftly stopped by a maid and was offered a grape juice instead. She said the previous one was spoiled and as both drinks were the same color, she believed her.

    The doors on the left side of the hall opened as many tables were pushed through, and seats followed. Workers got to work, briskly arranging the tables and chairs, the tablecloth was black with gold trimming.

    Food arrived as everyone started to take their seats, plates were arranged, and then came the utensils. Three maids and two butlers were at each of the tables, with many walking in and out of the hall bringing in food.

    Gereon raised a toast, "Here''s to Judge Drakonis, whose laughter and kindness brighten our lives every day. May this year bring you all the joy you give to others!" He said in a loud voice, and the others followed his words.

    Judge sat excitedly as he waited for his food to be served, the served food varied from person to person. People were asked about what food they would like to eat at dinner, it was a polite letter included in the invitation.

    Not sending one was considered being stingy, a word that every noble would try to avoid to their absolute best. The drakonis family was the opposite of being stingy, and people can tell that they did not hold back with the spending, the party was just that grand.

    Soon his favorite food was served, it was steak from a carefully breeded farm monster. The monster was called ''Worrak''. Judge had tried the green steak a while back and had fallen in love with the meat ever since.

    People usually had it with alcohol, they say that it was the best combination. But he hated the idea of anything related to alcohol, especially wine. He had always eaten it with a dip made specially by his mother, and he liked it.

    As the dinner ensued, the recorders were watching after the little lord. Judge was supposed to be a god that had planned to walk the mortal realm of Aark, and his underling was the Observer, the person whom they served as master.

    Lucifer was quiet, unlike Gabriel and Asmodeus who were squaring off against each other on who would get the best record. Recorders borrowed the power from their master, the Observer, to observe any scenes without anyone else watching them.

    They do not have any special gadgets or artifacts with them to do the said recording, they only have to observe. Lucifer observed the whole party hall like an entity that was forming an evil plan behind the scenes, as if he were watching his victims have their last meal.

    But of course, he was not going to take on a gathering consisting entirely of dragons. While he had grown in strength after Observer forced him to submission, he knew very well that he could not take on even a group of five grown dragons.

    Asmodeus was in charge of observing the outside, but she came in saying that there was nothing of interest. Both Lucifer and Gabriel knew that was not the case, Gabriel thought that she had come to pick a fight with him again.

    But Lucifer knew the real reason behind her answers, she loved Gabriel, which even she was not aware of. And in order to prove herself that she does not, she always pick fight with him.

    Gabriel was assigned the main task, which was to observe their true master, Judge Drakonis, the god who had descended into the mortal realm.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, in the church of the god of night. Believers were in deep prayer, with a priest leading the faithful activity.

    The audience all had old and tattered clothes. The church was a small one within the slums, built with the funds authorized by the government, the priest was assigned to work here by the higher-ups within the grand church of the the god of night.

    The prayer was soon over and everyone got up to leave, but the priest saw a shadow through the corner of his eyes, and it did not give a friendly air.

    The priest hurried to his room, took out a candle and lit it. It burned in a bright orange color, he dusted his white clothes and clasped both his hands together, he started to recite a prayer-

    Oh great one who controls the night

    one who weaves dreams with unseen light

    I pray for your unending grace

    I pray for your aid

    I pray for your strength.

 Chapter 71 - 71: The meeting in the dark, who took the lights?

    Oh great one who controls the night

    one who weaves dreams with unseen light

    lord of night who darkens the path of sorrow

    I pray for your unending grace

    I pray for your aid

    I pray for your strength.

    As soon as he had uttered the prayer, the bright flame of orange hue was quickly turned to a dark flame that emitted a white light.

    The priest raised both of his hands up, and the white light emitted on the walls turned dark, the shadow that the priest saw before slowly slid into the dark spot in the wall, and a man exited.

    He had hair as white as snow, and his eyes looked like a blue, bright jewel. But he suddenly removed the mask on his face, thick slimy substances were between his face and the mask like glue, his features changed. His eyes turned brown, and his hair turned black.

    There was a long scar across his eyes, it was not deep, but it ran all the way from his forehead to his chin through the skin on his left eye, which he still opened without any problem.

    "Alexis," the priest muttered, "You are as creepy as ever... Who was this time?"

    "A kid from the wolves, he looked too confident." Alexis shrugged, "Naturally, as his senior, I had to educate him."

    "Killing people is not educating, Alexis," A man entered through another dark spot on the wall, "It goes against the teachings of our lord. You must not kill without reason."

    "Yes, yes, whatever you say..." He leaned in, even though they were far away. "Mister apostle''s pet."

    As soon as he uttered those words, a knife made completely from darkness passed his face, barely missing and dissolving momentarily as it hit the wall. It gave him a slight scar. "Ooh, scary." He acted as if he was surprised, wiping the blood off his face.

    "Be careful with your words," The man came into the light, he had a really dark, it was as dark as charcoal. His eyes looked like the night skies, the tiny stars swarming in those two pupils.

    "Aldric, please keep your calm." The priest said, he had an air of authority, the two of the others were not in the best mood to listen. But they obeyed regardless, they won''t get anything from fighting against each other.

    The three of them got seated on the rectangular wooden table, Aldric and Alexis were seated on the short end, while the priest sat on the long end. There was one seat left, they were waiting for someone.

    Soon, all the dark spots on the walls pulsed, and they pulsed again. A cloaked figure entered through a dark spot that both Aldric and Alexis did not use. Everyone stood up as soon as they saw him.

    "We greet the apostle." They bowed and said in unison, the earlier hostility was all gone, replaced with pure fear.

    "Be seated," His voice coarse, "Praise the night lord."

    "The one who offers us grace." They replied and took their respective seats.

    Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes before the apostle spoke, breaking the silence. "I am yet to receive revelation from our lord." There was a hint of sad disappointment in his voice.

    "It has been three years hasn''t it," Next was the priest, his tone was that of confidence, "but whatever happens, I believe our god would not abandon us."

    Alexis and Aldric did not utter a word, the reason was simple. The apostle did not grant them permission, and they were here for a separate reason, the meeting was just a part of it.

    "Are there still outsiders... Priest Destin?" The conversion was serious from the start, but now it somehow got even more serious. "We don''t have much more tolerance left them."

    "I think..." Destin, the priest, sat in deep thought for a while before answering, "We have gotten almost everyone, there were one or two left when I last checked." He facepalmed, "They are so stubborn, talking about god not giving them food."

    "We will put them away from their misery then." The apostle looked at Alexis, who smiled and replied.

    "That... We will."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Two young men were working at a farm, their famished bodies could speak about their poverty. Yet they were hard workers, not resting without completing their work. "The people are idiots." One man said as they toiled the land.

    "How many times have you told me this already," The other man had a smile, it was a bright and energetic smile contrary to their poverty. "If they wish to, it is their life." S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Man, why can''t the government just give us the money instead of building a useless church." He tilled the land harder in frustration.

    "Now now, come one Derek," The other man was still positive, "Focus on the work will you?"

    "Whatever you say, sleepyhead"

    "I am not a sleepyhead, Just to clarify."

    Derek stopped his work and looked up to the sky, "Once I save up enough, I will head to the city and start a new life there." He clenched his fists, "Start a family, have kids, and look after them... Life has so much to offer for me to be tied here."

    "I think I will take up traveling." The other man did not stop his work.

    "Huh?" His initial astonishment turned to a grin, "Even a man like you has goals huh? Finn?"

    They both laughed. Unknown to the danger that they were about to face.

    Alexis stopped on a nearby tree as he started to observe his prey, he had clear instructions on how to go about his killing. And he would not be rash as this was a direct order from the apostle.

    "Maybe it is not a bad idea to believe in a god." Finn moved on to their next topic.

    "I can''t believe you are so foolish, the only person you can rely on is yourself," Derek said in an irritated tone, "Remember Finn, no god will help you without a reason, even with so many of them..." But as soon as he said that, his head exploded, sending blood and brain matter everywhere. His body soon followed suit.

    The positive smile on Finn''s face was yet to vanish, but his whole body was covered in the thick blood of his best and only friend.

 Chapter 72 - 72: Judge hates people, but people likes him

    "Cheers!"

    Judge, Raphael, and Stein clinked their wine glasses together and drank the fruit juice inside, pretending it was wine¡ª except Judge... he hated wine. They had finished their meals and were having desserts.

    Everyone except Renald was having fruit juices for dessert, while he was having another glass of alcohol instead of dessert. The king ordered him to have a glass of minted dessert juice as it was a great help in dealing with the hangover.

    He obeyed without question, as it was a regular habit of people to have minted dessert juice after they drank a lot of alcohol.

    Judge pitied him in his mind as he got up to leave for his room, thinking the party was over. But he had forgotten about a very important event that followed half an hour late after eating¡ª it was the event of giving gifts to the birthday person.

    Judge hurried off to his room to get some more research done before heading to bed, completely forgetting the fact that he was the center of today''s party. It would be better to say that he did not care about the party.

    To him, all of this was a mandatory event that he had no choice but to attend, and now the only part he was excited for, food, was over. He now had only the thought of finishing his research as quickly as possible.

    There was only one reason why he was diligently studying artifacts, there were countless divine artifacts that were extremely hard to do research on, and they might provide him with clues to attain godhood.

    He passed the door on the right corner of the party hall, but was abruptly stopped by his mother. He was thinking of Clio, and his mother resembled her, with the only change being her iris which were ashen white while Clio''s eyes were ice blue.

    "Clio!" Judge accidentally blurted out in a low voice, but he immediately came back to being calm. "Mom! What''s the matter?"

    "Where are you headed?" His mother pretended as if she did not hear the name he had just blurted out, after all, dragons put a great value on other''s privacy. If it was something he could speak to her, he would have already told her.

    "To my room, there is nothing more interesting going on." He spoke honestly, he knew that his mother could read him like an open book¡ª as far as he let her read him through his face.

    "You can head back after the gifts," She grabbed him in her arms, "it is important and you absolutely cannot miss it." Judge silently accepted his fate as though he was a prey that had already been caught by his predator.

    Eleyn put down her son before anyone noticed, she did not want anyone to speak ill of her son or herself. She watched as Judge slowly strode towards the chair that was prepared for him, she could not hold back her chuckle as she remembered how much Judge hated the gifting part of his birthday, he was trying to run away from the place on his third birthday.

    Judge sat on the chair with the air of someone who had done this way too many times to count. And after a while guests began to come in with the gifts they had prepared. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alexis was having a hard time sleeping, he went too hardcore with the killing and had just made his target explode by injecting corrupted ether via an artifact. He just wanted to see his prey exploding, but now he was paying for it.

    He was completely covered in the blood of his victim, and it was getting harder to scrub it off.

    After a long time in the river, he finally got rid of all the thick blood on his clothes. He laid them to dry under the sun as he climbed a huge tree to take a nap.

    He dreamed of a young girl, her warm smile filled him with contentment. She was a frail girl, but he was always by her side to look after her.

    ...

    Liyana, a black-haired girl, was extremely frail, she was at the age of fifteen. The best she could do was the daily tasks that required less strain on her body. But she was not someone who would sit still and rest on a bed.

    She did all the work she could, she did not have a family that was bound by blood. But she had one person whom she could call family, it was Alexis.

    Both lived in poverty, but always had each other in every moment of their life. Alexis always took the heavy work, he farmed and brought in firewood, he also picked medicinal herbs that provide a person with an ample amount of energy.

    Liyana had corrupted ether in her body, it was destroying her body from the inside¡ª very slowly, but surely. It was unknown when and where she got in contact with it, but she was always like that when Alexis found her, he was a kind soul then.

    Both the children were devout believers of the god of light, Veritas. They always went there to pray together every day. One day, when both of them were working together in the kitchen, Liyana suddenly fainted, but Alexis caught her in time.

    She was squirming and screaming quietly as he put her in bed. He sat near her the whole day, making sure she did not feel lonely, he could do nothing else.

    The next day, he decided to head to the church alone, and as he was praying, the priest came to him and asked why he was praying so earnestly. He spoke honestly to the priest and even cried on his shoulders. He felt that pathetic.

    The priest tried to console him, telling him that it was okay and god Veritas would help him with his hard times.

    Seeing Alexis calm down, the priest offered him a solution. He could borrow the purifying artifact from the church to purify the corrupted ether from his friend.

    Such an Artifact was a rare thing to be seen in a small church, but this church, even though small, had many people coming in every day. So the central church issued a small purifying artifact to the church.

    Alexis was overjoyed and forgot to see the grin that the priest hid, he went home and told Liyana the good news.

    Liyana, in her weak state, touched his cheeks lovingly. It was rare for her to do that since they always quarreled verbally, it was how they showed their love for each other.

    She asked him to lean in closely, and when he did, she gave him a tight hug and kissed him. It lasted only a short while, but to Alexis, it lasted a lifetime.

    She then instructed him to return the artifact and they should not waste the artifact''s strength on her. A divine artifact was charged through the surrounding people''s faith in the god whom the artifact was made for.

    But it was still hard to recharge once it was used to purify, she knew of the fact, and with an artifact without any usable energy, they could not defend themselves against wraiths or monsters in the form of spirits.

    But Alexis, driven even more by love, decided to use it regardless of the consequences, not stopping to think even once as to why the priest would give him the artifact while considering the consequences.

    He finally cured her corrupted ether, but the cost was high. The corrupted ether was not dispersed but they all came back into her body forcefully as they had no other medium to go.

    Alexis watched in horror as the love of his life, Liyana, thrashed and screamed loudly in extreme pain. Her body started to deform and got twisted and turned, she was not a human anymore.

 Chapter 73 - 73: Judge wants more sleep, but he just cant

    Alexis was frozen in place as he saw the monster tear through the house and into the large village with a huge population of almost ten thousand. It was still early in the morning, so people were only getting ready for work after breakfast.

    Countless screams of horror ensued in the city and the alarm bell rang from all the four towers on each corner of the village. Knights quickly armed up and came to confront the monster.

    As the village was surrounded by a small forest on all sides, the monster attacks were frequent, and they were experienced.

    Alexis and Liyana were kind towards all of the villagers despite their hard times, and so the villagers always treated them with kindness. So Alexis decided to try and convince them to stop attacking the monster.

    But he was wrong about people, nothing he did convinced them that Liyana was not a monster. They even tried to convince him to let go of her since she had turned into one, and that they understood his pain.

    He watched in horror as they coordinated their attack against the monster, he rushed to her aid, he could not accept that she had turned into a monster.

    When he saw them attacking her relentlessly, he tried to defend her. After being hit with a pretty forceful hit, he fell to the ground. But determined to protect her, he tried to block the next attack with his body.

    He jumped in between the attack and his lover, but before he was hit. The attack was received by the monster Liyana who moved in front of him, there was a blood-covered silver weapon that had pierced her chest, her torso had turned into that of a human, and her eyes had lost their luster.

    Alexis watched as she died in his arms, protecting her world even after turning into a mindless monster, he did not know how much days he had cried for, and he still carries it as a resentment, why did he insist on curing her?

    Alexis woke up from his nightmare, he looked at the clothes that would have already dried up. He watched the clouds, reminiscing about his only love. Today was her birthday... his heart tightened. He gave a self-deprecating smile.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Happy birthday, young master." It was the head of a knight family of the drakonis house, he was the final guest to provide Judge with gifts. Judge sank into his chair and gave a sigh of relief as the arduous part was over.

    In the huge Empire of Eldris, there existed countless races with vastly varying forms, cultures, languages, and many others.

    There were also things that were common between all the races. On was a single language that belonged to no race but was used by every race. It was a language widely used in the Capital, and was taught by every race to their children.

    Second was the ruling system, each race had one lord, and the house of the lord was the face of that race. But an entire race was not possible to be controlled by a single lord, especially since not every race lives together in a single place.

    So, knight families are assigned by the lords to every place where their race lives in a group. A knight family head would take on an oath in front of Veritas, the god of light and truth. Any oath or promise taken in the name of the god of truth was followed with diligence. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Both knights and the lords were called nobles, but the hierarchy was clear. Nobles were named as such as they were the noble protectors of people.

    Judge closed his book and blew out the candles as he finished his research for the day, tomorrow, he was supposed to take classes for swordsmanship tomorrow, and there were also classes on how to use ether and ether principles.

    So basically speaking, his schedule went from mostly free to ''working extra time on your nine to five.''

    He passed out as soon as he hit the bed, the red velvet cushions sucking him into a deep sleep. He dreamt of himself, when he was just a child attending his mother''s funeral.

    He wore black clothes and the people around were all trying to console him, telling him that they would all be with him whenever he wanted. They told him that he could rely on them.

    But these very reliable people all left him when he had nothing left, these were not the greatest of backstabbers, but they laid a foundation for his ideals of life.

    Not trusting anyone came with a great cost, it was called loneliness. And Judge always longed for someone to trust while still being unable to trust someone.

    But Clio had proved him wrong, she was just like him, lonely and longing to meet someone. But unlike him, she did not have anyone around her, the only person she talked to comfortably was Judge, and now that he was gone, he could feel her loneliness.

    Of course, she could summon other dead souls like himself, but he could somehow tell that he was special to her, it was as if he could feel her emotions when she saw him. He did not feel them then.

    These thoughts soon gave way to his sweet dreams, he dreamt of a great grassland, It stretched to ends as far as his eyes could see. There was a single tree that provided him shade, he was lying on Clio''s legs, and she slowly caressed his head.

    The sweet dream ended abruptly as if the universe was telling him to ''stop dreaming'', like... literally.

    He looked around, it was already morning, and his sleepiness was gone. He did not know if this was another part of being a dragon, but after getting a couple of hours of sleep, he would wake up refreshed and could not fall asleep again without tiring himself first.

    He could not hear the timely knocking on the door, ''Guess I was awake early huh?''

    He got up from his bed and even before changing from his night clothes, he sat on his desk and started his work on the artifact.

    Today he would look at a new collection, his grandfather had only recently heard about his artifact collection and had gifted him a few prized artifacts.

    Maybe it was time to do research on the active ones instead. the ones without catalysts were just the starting point in his big journey to uncover the secrets of artifacts. Which would, hopefully, give him a clue on attaining divinity.

 Chapter 74 - 74: How to learn sword (without dying)

    "Keep your chin up! Don''t look at my legs, look at me!" Dosav''s voice boomed across the training yard, startling a few birds nearby. Judge winced. Why did it always sound like he was getting yelled at, even when the man wasn''t mad? Dosav was normally pretty chill, but the moment swords got involved, he turned into a drill sergeant with a grudge.

    Judge sighed. Swordsmanship wasn''t exactly his forte. He''d picked up a few things from Seraphis¡ª though honestly, ''learning'' might have been a generous term for what was essentially survival training with occasional visits to the ozone layer.

    When you are in an adult body, fending off an ether infused attack was one thing, but if you think fighting Seraphis was hard, try being a four year old trying a grown man''s swordwork¡ª it redefined nightmares, and his nightmares normally involved wine.

    And he wasn''t using Enhanced Cognition either. Nope. Today was all about good old-fashioned growth. Sure, he could''ve made this a hundred times easier by activating his abilities, but where''s the fun in that? Apparently, self-improvement involved getting repeatedly smacked with a blade.

    Dosav feinted left, and Judge instinctively blocked the upward strike. He smirked. His reflexes were improving¡ª kind of, in terms of adapting, the answer was yes. He was incorporating grown man moves into a baby body which he would eventually grow out of.

    "Good! Timely and precise block," Dosav said, almost sounding impressed. "But¡ª don''t lean so far to the right. Unless you plan on hugging the dirt, it screams that you don''t trust your own arms when blocking."

    Judge gave a half hearted nod, feeling like his spine had been personally insulted. The next strike came fast¡ª a straightforward stab aimed right at his chest. Judge blocked it with all the confidence in the world¡­ right until his abdomen felt the sharp tap.

    "Seriously?" he muttered, blinking at the offending area of his armor. "Was that even legal?"

    "You missed the shift." Dosav sheathed his sword, which unfortunately didn''t mean the lesson was over. He always did that dramatic pause thing, like he was about to drop ancient wisdom. "''Basic principle,'' blah blah blah, got it," Judge thought, rolling his eyes internally. "We''re dragons. Basics are like¡­ entry-level breathing."

    Dosav, oblivious to Judge''s sarcasm, continued, "It''s not just about where you think I''m aiming. It''s about where you should be."

    Judge sighed. "Fantastic. Sword philosophy." He had been busy since morning, from researching artifacts to stamina training, now he was doing sword training. The last thing he needed was a theory on swords.

    It seems he can never escape the thing called theory. It was a nightmare that haunted him in college.

    The lesson dragged on until noon. By then, he had blocked, dodged, and occasionally hit the ground enough times to form a sort of physical checklist of failure. At last, though, he had something to look forward to¡ª ethercraft training. Today was the day.

    He''d be getting his mother''s ''present,'' and considering who his mother was, it could either be an amazing gift or something that would make him question his existence.

    He arrived at the double doors to the training hall, ornate with golden patterns and looking way too fancy for a place where people regularly broke things. The knights standing guard bowed, opening the doors with their typical, "We-serve-the-empire" flair.

    Inside, the place was huge, with quartz pillars and an interior design that screamed "we''re rich, but we also like chandeliers." The wallpaper was gorgeous¡ª dark wood and elegant patterns meeting somewhere between "grand" and "why is this even necessary?" S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Melina was there, giving him a warm smile. Judge knew she''d lost her father a few days ago, but if she was upset, she hid it behind a casual demeanor that could''ve fooled anyone. Not Judge, though. He knew her well enough to recognize the "I''m fine because my father was a jerk" attitude. Still, a smile was better than the alternative.

    Across the room, his mother, Eleyn, was lounging in a chair, engrossed in a book titled A Guide to Training Your Child in a Volcano.

    Judge snorted. Of course, that was her current reading material. She didn''t even bat an eyelid as she caught his eye. "Oh, hey, Judge." Then she glanced at Melina. "What? Is there something on my face?"

    Melina just blinked. Judge wisely stayed silent.

    "Oh! Right!" Eleyn said suddenly, as though remembering why they were all here. She reached into her bag, producing a long, polished wooden box with a gold-lined crevice. "Your new weapon."

    Judge eyed the box suspiciously. There was something about the way she said "weapon" that made his stomach shift uncomfortably.

    He reached out, opened it slowly, and there it was¡ª a long dagger, perfectly balanced, resting on a dark cushion. Its handle was plain, but there were two jewels embedded in the weapon: one dark green, the other a fiery red.

    Two catalysts? Either this dagger was ridiculously sturdy enough to withstand that much ether, or it came with a really confusing instruction manual.

    Eleyn tapped the red gem, and a faint rune glowed within it. "This one has a spirit inside. It''ll guide the blade¡ª just a little. But¡­"

    Oh no, here it comes. Judge braced himself.

    "¡­You''ll need to tame the spirit after each use, or, you know, it''ll go berserk and kill you. But I''m sure that won''t be an issue, right?"

    Judge blinked. Motherly love at its finest.

    But the gifts weren''t over. His mother pulled out another box¡ª this one blood-red, with a golden lock. "This is for your magic. The dagger''s just for emergencies. This¡ª" she cut his hand with a flick of her finger and let the blood drip onto the lock, "¡ªis the real deal."

    The box squirmed like it was alive, the colors shifting from dark red to golden hues in a disturbing dance of shades. Judge watched it with unease, healing his cut hand in the process. Why does everything in this family have a dramatic flair?

    "Open it," his mother urged, handing him the box. Melina was smiling from the side¡ª a smile that definitely said, Good luck with that.

    Judge sighed. This is not going to be easy.

 Chapter 75 - 75: Murderous weapon, classical motherly love

    Judge stared at the gold-and-crimson box his mother held out like a prize, both hands holding it as if it were the crown jewels. He knew the drill¡ª he''d seen the same box in Amber''s and Liam''s hands, though theirs were different colors.

    Amber''s was peach with gold (a combo he tried not to gag at), and Liam''s was a vibrant orange with the same ever-present gold.

    Now, his box had crimson mixed in, because clearly, his mother had a bit of a thing for gold. The woman couldn''t resist the stuff¡ª her room looked like she decorated her room after her trip to a black Friday sale at a pawn shop and bought the store, and the surrounding hallways were no better.

    His gaze flickered from the box to his mother''s ashen white eyes, then to Melina''s equally intense gaze, and back to the box. With a sigh of resignation, he mentally commanded it to open.

    Crimson swirled with gold, twisting across the surface like a fancy dessert, as the lock gave a slow, dramatic creak, revealing its contents. The gap widened, and inside was an extremely dark wand resting on an only slightly lighter cushion, both exuding an aura of "I''m definitely cursed."

    Judge feigned enthusiasm, his forced excitement looking pretty natural¡ª he''d had years of practice. With a flick of his will, the wand floated out of the box and zipped toward him like an eager puppy.

    He caught it with practiced ease, and as soon as his fingers closed around it, he felt a chill so cold it could''ve rivaled winter''s breath. The wand had no traditional handle, just a small jewel attached where one should''ve been, swirling in dark purples and blacks like a bad omen.

    He lifted it, noting the lightning-like bend in the wand''s shape. Checking the purple jewel for ether reserves, he found just enough ether to power a desk fan¡ª barely.

    But something was off, and it wasn''t just the color scheme. His mother and Melina both had expressions of barely contained glee, like they knew a secret he was about to stumble upon. He had known both since birth, and he knew both of them never up to anything good with a smile like that.

    Sure, the jewel was a catalyst, but it was too tiny for something his mother had crafted. He hadn''t seen Amber or Liam''s wands, but this thing felt more like a toy than a weapon. Yet, despite its size, he could sense the jewel could hold a surprising amount of ether. Then it hit him¡ª the wand itself was a catalyst.

    Now that was unexpected. Judge''s surprise was genuine this time, no need to fake it. He barely managed to hold together his neutral facial expressions.

    Catalysts, no matter their form, always had a crystal texture to them. But this? It was wood, top to bottom. How in the Etherverse could this be a catalyst?

    "Surprised?" His mother''s eyes sparkled with the excitement of a master crafter waiting for praise. She was never the one to look for praise, but it was different when it was her child who was praising her.

    "Yep," Judge nodded, turning to hug her tightly, because what else do you do when your mom gifts you a potential murder weapon disguised as a wand? "Thanks, Mom! Really."

    He had to show some appreciation; after all, this was more artifact than a mere wand. Rechargeable catalysts weren''t cheap¡ª anywhere from ten stens to five hundred, depending on the quality of ether conductivity and holding capacity.

    But those numbers were peanuts compared to the dragon-made ones, which his mother specialized in. And this one? It had her signature all over it. The purple jewel might''ve been small, but with the runes his mother had etched into it, it was packing far more power than met the eye.

    Then there was the wand itself. He couldn''t even sense a limit to its ether capacity. He knew it wasn''t infinite, but it was massive, and creating something like this from scratch took talent¡ª and maybe a little madness. Making a whole wand out of a catalyst was a risky business; one slip, and the wielder could end up as a pile of ash.

    Testing it out, Judge aimed the wand at a candle on the desk. "Ignite," he muttered, expecting a simple flame. After all, "Ignite" was about as harmless as spells got.

    But the wand, apparently feeling overzealous, channeled ether like it was born for drama. What was supposed to be a tiny flame turned into a table-consuming inferno. The entire desk went up like a bonfire, shocking everyone except his mother, Melina, and Judge himself. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A familiar gasp interrupted his moment of disbelief. "Wait¡ª who''s there?" He turned to see Amber standing in the doorway, she was looking very confused and amused.

    Judge sighed. "This is a classroom, Amber." Great, just what he needed¡ª his sister barging in. She was probably here to say her farewells before she left.

    ''Wonderful timing,'' he thought sarcastically.

    Amber was supposed to have left for Wyvern''s Land weeks ago¡ª a grand town named Trodh where dragons prepped before entering the academy. Population: eight hundred thousand. Wyverns in attendance? Zero. Turns out, wyverns didn''t exist. They were just dragons incognito.

    Amber had delayed her departure till after Judge''s birthday¡ª a party even their father skipped with the classic excuse, "Very busy." Judge knew what that meant. His father was avoiding people, it was not social anxiety, but carelessness, and their grandfather had nearly gone full draconic fury over it.

    Amber bounded over and gave Judge a big, heartfelt hug. He, of course, stood there like a statue, waiting for it to end. Once free, he gave her a lazy thumbs-up. "Good luck out there."

    "That didn''t sound like someone wishing me luck... And what''s that smell¡ª oh, the table''s on fire."

    Judge had forgotten about that. His mother and Melina hadn''t lifted a finger to stop the blaze because clearly, he was supposed to clean up his own mess.

    He sighed, raised his brand-new wand, and this time channeled his ether with the kind of restraint normally reserved for delicate negotiations.

 Chapter 76 - 76: Judges oversight: never again

    "Surge forth!" Rey yelled, sounding like someone who''d spent way too many hours binge watching magical dramas, all while not having any free time.

    Honestly, if he threw in a "wingardium leviosa," no one would''ve been surprised. His wand flared up, glowing a determined shade of blue, as if it were auditioning for a role in some grand magical production.

    But this glow wasn''t content with just looking pretty; it had dreams. Big ones. The particles it summoned whirled around, gathering into a dense ball of water, and then it launched itself like a cannonball with a vendetta.

    The water was launched at the fire that was burning passionately, but he did not notice the fact that the table was not being burnt, and the fire was also not growing or spreading.

    The projectile hit the table, but he made the water too dense. The table was knocked away with the fire still clinging on it like a paint stain that won''t go away how much you wash.

    Then the fire, in an act of pure spite, decided to relocate to the curtains.

    Judge''s mental alarm bells went off¡ª louder than when Amber accidentally summoned a thunderstorm indoors. He scrambled, trying to cast something smooth and controlled, something that screamed, "I got this." Hand raised, spell ready, he was about to fix it all with style.

    But then the fire just... fizzled out, as if realizing it wasn''t even supposed to be there. And it hit him: Right... dragon house. things aren''t flammable. Duh.

    Across the room, his mother Eleyn and Melina watched the entire disaster unfold with the enthusiasm of someone watching a street magician fail to pull a rabbit out of a hat. This was definitely not Judge''s finest hour.

    Normally, he was calm, collected¡ª the one who could assess a situation before it spiraled into chaos. But now? He stood in the middle of a self-made mess, throwing spells at a fire that was never a threat.

    Dragon Logic 101: dragons breathe fire, and their houses are fireproof. Basic. Even a non-dragon toddler would''ve known better. They made anything wood-related from a tree resistant to fire, or just enchanted things with fire resistance.

    Lowering his wand with all the grace of a defeated wizard, Judge let the silence hang in the air like a bad joke. Melina''s lips twitched, trying (and failing) to hold back laughter. His mother, meanwhile, gave him that universal mom look¡ª the one that says, You tried your best, sweetie.

    Amber, however, was not so restrained. "Judge¡­ you didn''t," she wheezed, practically doubled over in laughter. "Tell me you didn''t just try to put out a fire. In this house. Our house!" She was laughing so hard, she was on the the floor, clutching her stomache.

    Laughter, it turns out, is highly contagious. The moment Amber started, Melina gave in, followed swiftly by Eleyn. Judge could feel the knights outside the room probably wondering what on earth could be so funny.

    "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh it up," Judge sighed, rolling his eyes like someone who never even cared to begin with. "Very ladylike."

    "J-Judge," Melina gasped, wiping away tears and giving his shoulder a pat, barely able to contain herself. "You''ve got so much to learn."

    She turned away, still snickering like someone who''d just watched their first looney tunes episode, Judge imagined her muttering between laughs.

    Once the laughter finally died down, his mother and sister said their goodbyes, leaving Judge alone with Melina. The door clicked shut, and just like that, her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by the sternness of a battle-hardened tutor.

    "Alright, young master Judge" she grunted, cracking her knuckles like they were about to throw down in a shady tavern. "Time for your lesson."

    Judge groaned inwardly. "What a drag," he muttered under his breath, channeling the spirit of a certain spiky-haired anime character.

    Melina didn''t care. She was already knee-deep in her itch to start spell instruction, her tone sharp and impatient. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Later that day, the Recorders assembled. Everyone donned their masks, though it felt more like a formality. They all knew each other''s faces by now. Judge, however, remained a mystery. As the Observer, he never revealed his true identity. Why spoil the mystique?

    The air was thick with tension, the kind that made silence feel like a ticking bomb. No one dared speak without the Observer''s signal, and Judge''s mere presence ensured it stayed that way.

    "Show me," he finally commanded, his voice low and filled with authority. "Show me the moments you''ve captured for our god."

    A shiver ran through the group. Each Recorder had their own reason for joining this secretive order. Lucifer, for one, wasn''t interested in petty promises of power¡ª he''d seen enough fools destroyed by their own ambition.

    Yet here he was, intrigued by the Observer and the mysterious god they claimed to serve. The idea of power was tempting, but serving a god? Now that was something worth sticking around for.

    Asmodeus and Gabriel had both been personally recruited by Judge. He knew exactly how to play rivals against each other, offering them the same prize: power in exchange for loyalty. Lucifer''s resistance to the bait only made him more compelling.

    The Recorders began transferring their stories to Judge, who activated his Enhanced Cognition like Sherlock Holmes tapping into his mind palace. He breezed through the tales as if binge-watching a series at multiple times the speed.

    First: a young boy''s misadventure in the woods. What started as a simple trip to gather firewood ended with him lost, stumbling down a cliff, and nearly becoming a monster''s snack. A mercenary group saved him just in time, turning a grim fairy tale into a near-miss.

    Next: an elderly woman''s tragic tale of losing her only son, left alone to wither away in solitude. It hit Judge harder than he expected, the woman''s slow march toward giving up on life tugging at something deep within him.

    And then, the banquet of dragons. Renald, the spoiled nobleman, had been acting suspiciously, but Judge couldn''t quite pin down why. Was it all an act? Something about Renald reeked of conspiracy.

    "Asmodeus," Judge ordered, "keep an eye on the first prince Renald. This is your top priority, I will only observe, not record."

    Asmodeus nodded. "As you wish, Observer."

 Chapter 77 - 77: Dragons Daily, the story book

    Judge moved on to the next story like a chief editor at a newspaper¡ª except his ''news'' was far more dangerous and less likely to involve petty gossip about who''s wearing what to the ball.

    The Dragons Daily demanded a certain standard, and Judge wasn''t about to let it slip. He mentally noted how many crimes involved explosions these days¡ª probably some kind of trend.

    His enhanced cognition zipped through the details like a hyperactive squirrel on too much caffeine. Otherwise, he''d be stuck sifting through this mess all day. He could only give Clio the best, and he definitely cannot mess up.

    People lived their lives, some basking in happiness, others drowning in sorrow, but Judge didn''t have time to read every sad love letter or grocery list. He skimmed over them like a bored student flipping through an encyclopedia. That is, until something truly popped up.

    "Oh, classic murder scene," he muttered. He''d seen so many, he could probably open a murder museum. This one, though, stood out¡ª not just because someone''s head exploded like a forgotten soup pot on a high flame, but because of the setting. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Two beast-race farmers were diligently working on their patch of land, bless their simple hearts. One had a pair of pointy, fluffy ears on his head, while the other had long white fur that covered his body like he was auditioning to be the next shag carpet model.

    Judge squinted¡ª ah, the fur was only thick on the back. His face, on the other hand, looked like a teenager desperately trying to grow a beard but not even managing a few stray wisps. A valiant effort, really. He could make millions and get off that farmer''s life if he had gone for K-pop instead.

    The village was tucked away in some countryside that even the travelers had probably forgotten about. Trees nearby were cleared for proper sunlight, and the whole scene screamed, "We''re just trying to live our quiet lives¡ª please don''t explode us!" But alas, one of them was about to learn just how inconvenient divine powers could be.

    Judge hit replay on the scene, furrowing his brow. ''Derek,'' the guy with the white fur, had his head unceremoniously turned into a confetti explosion, followed quickly by his body. "Well, that''s a bit excessive, even for a murder in the middle of nowhere."

    The killer, whoever it was, had clearly flexed some serious divine muscle. And divine powers didn''t just come from nowhere. They were gifts from gods, like those fancy presents at a party that only one person gets and everyone else pretends they didn''t want.

    The question was: why would someone use divine power on a beast-race farmer in Nowhere Village?

    Judge scratched his chin. The power that was used belonged to Tenebris, a god known for night and false realities¡ª basically, the kind of guy who''d make sure you lose your car keys, even if you don''t own a car.

    The church of The god of night was established in the village long ago, along with the church of Umbra, the Goddess of Shadows and Obscurity. Judge shook his head. "Never trust a church with a name like that."

    However, despite the name, the church was extremely popular, mostly among youngsters who were a bit too much delusional. Not to say that old people were not on the list, but youngsters were more.

    People usually never change their faith, unless they are forced. The reason why there was a low rate of old people in the church was because of the high death rates of the followers¡ª they were not sacrificed, but they did in one of their bizarre monster fights.

    The church of Umbra which had been once set up in this remote village, was demolished for ''mysterious'' reasons, leaving Tenebris'' believers to continue their midnight rituals in peace.

    Not that Judge was pointing fingers, but he''d seen enough shady divine interventions to smell one a mile away. Plus, the ether involved in this particular crime had a distinct flavor¡ª like someone spiked his usual ether vanilla with a very specific brand of mischief.

    Ether was like ice cream, in Judge''s mind. Everyone and everything had their own flavor, and he''d become quite the connoisseur. Most people''s ether was indistinguishable, but this ether had a unique twist. "Ah, yes," Judge murmured in his mind.

    "This ether feels familiar." It was the same ether his supposed father had used back when he''d tricked the dragons into something that Judge didn''t bother to remember in full detail.

    He never did figure out how no one else noticed the ether manipulation. He suspected it had something to do with the principle being so subtle that it flew under everyone''s radar¡ª like a particularly sneaky ice cream thief.

    Two tasks suddenly weighed on Judge''s mind: one was a bit too easy for him, and the other¡ª well, it was personal. He decided to hand off the easy one because multitasking was for people with less flair.

    "Gabriel!" he called out, waiting for the inevitable squeak.

    Sure enough, a startled squeak followed. "Y-Yess! Master Observer."

    "I need you to gather everything you can find on the church of Tenebris," Judge said, barely containing his amusement. He knew Gabriel had never heard of it.

    "Tenebris?" He blinked at him, confused. Most people had never heard of the god of night and false realities, and for good reason. It wasn''t exactly on the church brochure. The knowledge was reserved for high-ranking officials, the kind of people who took themselves way too seriously and probably had titles like ''Most Blessed Keeper of the Mystical Night Parchments.''

    "Indeed," Judge said with a dramatic pause, loving the tension. "The church of the god of night... and false realities."

    Gabriel blinked again, but this time with determination. He wouldn''t let his confusion show anymore. "Your wish is my command... Master."

    Judge''s inner critic gave himself a pat on the back. "Ten out of ten," he thought. "That played out even better than expected." Mentally, he had scripted the whole exchange, and Gabriel had nailed his lines. With that out of the way, he turned to his next co-star: Lucifer.

    "Lucifer," Judge said, almost humming with excitement for what was to come. His tone remained calm¡ª after all, he was a professional. "Follow me. I''ve found a new vassal to serve our lord."

    Lucifer bowed. "As you wish, Observer," he replied without complaint, though Judge could see the faintest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. Good¡ª curiosity kept Lucifer obedient. For now.

    Asmodeus flashed her purple card towards Gabriel just before teleporting, Gabriel frowned and cursed her before he left, leaving the stage to Judge and Lucifer. With a flourish that would make any magician jealous, Judge teleported them to his next prey.

 Chapter 78 - 78: A Very Misguided Monday

    Finn was lying inside his room when he came to, watching the wooden ceiling. He looked around, confused. "Wasn''t I working on the farmland?" He removed the old blanket and got up from the bed. "When did I sleep, did I finish the ploughing?"

    He looked out through the window and gazed at the quiet road. It used to be a bustling place every morning and evening, but why was it so quiet?

    Utterly confused and distraught, he pushed his bedroom door open to reach the dining area. The entire wooden house was eerily quiet. He wasn''t the type to believe in daylight ghosts, but now... well, things felt different.

    "Teresa?" he called out to his cousin, who lived with him and his sickly mother since her parents had long passed. "Mom?"

    His voice echoed, and with each step he took, the heavy weight of uncertainty pressed down on him. What had happened before he went to sleep? As he tried to recall, a chill ran down his spine, the answer just out of reach, teasing him like a forgotten nightmare.

    Judge and Lucifer watched Finn as he slowly clutched his temporal area with both his hands, he was walking around like a drunkard with a hangover that got too intense.

    Finn screamed as he flailed his head around, only stopping after hitting his head on the cupboard. Judge held back a laugh, this was too funny to watch.

    Lucifer looked at the scene nonchalantly, he was dismayed at the kind of person the Observer had chosen to serve a god.

    This farmboy had nothing to his name, Asmodeus and Gabriel were both strong when they were taken in to serve their master. But he did not want to doubt Observers intuitions, after all¡ª he could see something Lucifer cannot.

    He watched as Finn fell to the floor, he knew his name because it was him who recorded the scene of his dear friend''s explosive send off.

    Finn lay on the floor, motionless. He was exhausted mentally, but he was not unconscious. Both of them waited patiently for Finn to make a move, watching some guy lay on the floor was not something Lucifer would call an entertaining time pass, yet here he was.

    Finn twitched internally, he felt like he was having a stroke¡ª and he never had one before. His mind was now completely blank, he could not think of anything... no, he was afraid to think of anything.

    He had lost his friend, he did not know where his mother and cousin went, and the village road that had people sleeping on it even at midnight, was now completely desolate.

    He decided to drink some beer to refresh his mind it was definitely not working properly, he could not even utter tears. Going to the kitchen, he took a small bottle of amber liquid from underneath a plank that was on a corner.

    He took a mug from inside the rack and went back to the dining area to have a drink. He sat down and uncorked the bottle, it had been a few days since he had hid it. "Tastes like iron." He complained as he took his first sip.

    After drinking a whole glass, he just sat there, covering his face with both his hands. Slowly, the beer started to affect his mind. His head began to shake as he started to shed tears, he could still not believe it, maybe it was all a dream, or he was still dreaming.

    But deep inside, he knew that it was all real, he had lost his brother from another mother. He clutched his hair in agony, and a slight thought of suicide crossed his mind... No, he still had his mother and cousin to take care of.

    The thought of an empty house and the desolate street did not matter to him anymore, he thought of how his friend had died, pulling his ears.

    Derek had suddenly exploded, first the head, then the body. His whole view turned red and he slammed the table loudly. He poured himself another drink, the taste was very pale, yet he still drank it to relieve himself.

    The second glass turned his thoughts again in a different direction¡ª who had killed Derek? He was a man without any training in ether, so he obviously did not know. But the thirst for revenge was evident on his face.

    ...

    Judge was looking eagerly at Finn, but his posture was unchanging and let out none of his emotions. He waited patiently as he watched the changing emotions on Finn''s face.

    He wanted to head in after Finn had his first mug of beer, but decided to wait a bit more. And he was finally rewarded for his patience.

    "It is time," Judge said to Lucifer as he watched the changing facial expressions of Finn, it went from confusion, to distress, and finally to anger. He grinned as he saw that.

    Judge did not remove his mask, it played a key role in his identity as the Observer. But he deactivated his recording state and materialized behind Finn, silently and waiting for his moment to speak. Lucifer did not materialize, he had Judge''s orders, ''Do not leave the observer state unless I order you to''.

    ...

    Finn poured himself another mug of beer, his hands trembling slightly as the glass bottle clinked against the metal rim. His mind swirled with grief, anger, and confusion, and the alcohol only dulled the edges of it, doing nothing to ease the gnawing ache in his chest. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He downed the drink in a few gulps, his face contorting with bitterness.

    "Why did this happen?" he muttered to no one, staring blankly at the table before him. His thoughts lingered on Derek, his head that had exploded in front of him in a gruesome, horrifying spectacle. "Who did this?"

    His voice cracked, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of his shallow breaths. He slammed his fist onto the table again, the wooden surface creaking under the force. "I swear... I''ll make them pay."

    At that moment, Finn''s eyes flickered with something new¡ª resolve. But just as the fire of vengeance began to ignite, a voice, cold and deliberate, broke through the daze.

    "Revenge is a powerful motivator," the deep voice whispered from behind him, sending a chill racing down Finn''s spine.

 Chapter 79 - 79: Not Your Average Job Interview

    "Who''s there?" Finn instantly turned around and threw his mug at Judge, who did not even try to dodge the incoming projectile as it whistled past his ears.

    "Me?" Judge stepped forward, his white mask catching the sunlight. "I am god''s observer!"

    He let those words sink in, but not for long because the thoughts could go in directions he did not need. "Finn, son of Donel¡ª I ask you," He sounded like he was auditioning for a grand drama. "Do you seek revenge?"

    Of course, Finn won''t say yes to it¡ª unless he was stupid. If he was the type of person so clouded by revenge and said yes to a mysterious masked man on their first meeting, then he was not cut out to be an underling of Judge.

    "What of it?" Finn was on the defense, he was not a warrior but he had his fair share of dangers. "If you think I will work under you for revenge, I will not."

    Judge tilted his head just a fraction; the chuckle was low and soft behind that eerie, ever-smiling mask. "Ah, not so quick to bite at the chance for vengeance. Good. I wouldn''t have expected anything less from you, Finn." His hands folded behind his back as he set out at a leisurely pace, his every step calculated like that of an actor in a play he had already choreographed in his mind.

    The mug Finn had thrown clattered uselessly against the floor as it suddenly got distorted and disappeared before appearing on the table once again, but Judge didn''t even glance at it.

    His gaze stayed riveted on Finn, examining him with a predator sizing up its prey. "You''ve misunderstood me," he said, his voice cool and measured. "I''m not here to dangle something as simple as revenge in front of you. No, that would be far too... crude."

    Judge paused, his movement halted, as his voice dearly softened and became almost conversational. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "What I''m offering you is far more valuable. I offer knowledge. Power. A deeper understanding of the forces that took your friend from you. You don''t have to work for me, Finn. But wouldn''t you like to see the truth with your own eyes?

    To peel back the surface of this world and see what really lies beneath?"

    Finn''s fists were clenched, his whole body tense as he stared at the masked figure. "And what''s in it for you?" he asked in a low, cutting voice. "Nobody just gives away something like that for nothing."

    The Judge''s mask tilted upward a bit, catching the light just enough to give the impression of a smile that was far too wide, far too knowing. "Ah, sharp as ever. You''re right, nothing is free. But what I want from you is far more... intriguing than simple loyalty or servitude. What I want is your curiosity."

    Finn blinked, clearly taken aback. "Curiosity?"

    "Yes." The Judge''s voice dropped almost to a whisper, as if he were letting Finn in on some grand secret. "I want you to seek the answers. Not for me, but for yourself. You want to protect your family, to learn what really happened to your friend. That hunger for knowledge, Finn, will be your guide.

    "And I... I will only guide you along that path. You won''t be some sort of blind follower. You shall become something more: a Recorder, the chronicler of things that show the deeper truth which even gods conceal."

    Finn''s jaw clenched. Something inside him screamed that this was wrong, that he really shouldn''t be trusting this man, yet the way Judge spoke... it was hard to ignore. The promise of truth, of finding out what really happened to Derek, gnawed at him.

    "And if I say no?" There was a slight shaking, though Finn''s voice was firm, the doubt still lingered.

    Judge chuckled low, almost fondly, as if Finn''s resistance had been amusing. "If you refuse? Then you leave here and life goes on as it was. You return to your quiet, empty house, and perhaps¡ª though I doubt it¡ª you''ll stumble upon the truth on your own. But Finn," Judge said, bending closer, "if you walk away now, you will always wonder... what if?"

    The air felt heavy and thick, as if the room was closing in on Finn¡ª just this one choice hung before him. The overwhelming and engaging presence of the Judge somehow was oppressively comforting in its own right because of its certainty.

    "I don''t want to be your pawn," Finn said with voice barely audible, totally at war with himself.

    Judge''s response was immediate. "I''m not asking you to be a pawn. I''m offering you the pen." He gestured broadly to the space around them, his arms wide open. "This world? This village? It''s nothing compared to the truth that''s out there.

    You have no idea how deep this reality goes, Finn. I''m merely the observer. But you... you could be so much more."

    The silence stretched between them; Finn''s heart was pounding in his chest with anticipation. Had he so much as remembered, the mug on the concrete floor, it lay there, its shards scattered at his feet¡ª a sharp contrast to the monumental decision hanging in the air.

    Judge straightened, his voice ringing, as it often did, in that theatrical tone. "So, Finn, son of Donel... what will it be? Will you return to your humble life, or take the first step up unto greatness? Think hard, for the consequences of your choice, whether you accept or reject, it would reverberate through the pages of destiny itself."

    Finn just stared at him, trying to see past that mask, to read the man behind it. Everything about this whole moment felt surreal, time itself paused, waiting for him to make a decision.

    He didn''t trust this man, couldn''t trust him¡ª but it was impossible to resist the pull of the unknown, the promise of answers. "I want the truth," Finn said finally, his voice steady despite the hurricane of skepticism raging inside. "But I don''t work for anyone."

    The mask canted, ever so slightly, and though Finn could not see the face beneath, he could almost feel the satisfaction in Judge''s silence. "Very well," Judge replied smoothly. "You seek the truth, and the truth shall find you."

    Judge held out his hand, and a mask materialized in front of him, it was similar to the masks that the other recorders wore. "Now choose; Will you serve god, or... will you reject god."

 Chapter 80 - 80: Not Your Average Job Interview [2]

    "Now choose; Will you serve god, or... will you reject god."

    Finn''s mind raced. The choice¡ª whether to serve god, to reject god reverberated like a resounding gong, it ran through his mind like a chilly ice bath. He had three choices to that statement, but he was in a quandary¡ª out of the three, the choice he wanted to make was to accept.

    But he still had his mother and sister to look after, going after revenge while still having a family to look after was not the best choice he could make. So the most plausible option was¡ª

    ''To ask for more time'', Judge thought, Judge had seen it before¡ª the hesitation of a man torn between duty and desire, loyalty to family, and thirst for revenge.

    Finn had three choices. The first was to reject, while it was an option, he would never take it.

    The second was accepting, while being the most probable, it was unlikely that he would take it, considering the fact that he had people to look after.

    So, the most viable option was for him to ask for more time. But just accepting would ruin the image of him as the great observer, and he still needed the guy with a strong sense of revenge against the church of the god night.

    Finn clenched his fists, Derek''s blood-soaked image crept into his thoughts, his friend''s body destroyed into pieces that were too grotesque to be real. Rage simmered beneath Finn''s skin, pushing aside reason for just a moment. They killed him.

    But then, he could hear his mother''s soft cough in the back of his mind, a reminder of his responsibilities. Teresa''s laugh echoed faintly, a harsh contrast to the stillness of the house. Could he truly leave them behind? The need to protect them gnawed at him.

    "I... I need more time." He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, not quite ready to commit. He had to find a way to ensure his family would be safe before he could even consider serving some masked stranger claiming to be a god''s observer.

    There it is, Judge thought with a smirk beneath his mask. Exactly as expected. Judge could have told him that serving god would not affect his family life, but he had another motive behind his actions.

    While Finn could become a good weapon to be used against the church of Night, his family could get in between his decisions. So Judge had to get rid of all the obstacles, and turn Finn into a proper weapon.

    Judge spoke after a deliberate pause, "Very well, I shall respect your choices." He walked forward, still holding the mask forward. "Keep the mask." He watched as Finn took the mask from his hand.

    ''Perfect, now for the final push.'' Judge smirked behind his mask.

    "The church of the god of night," Judge muttered, his voice was low but very audible. The weight of his words hung in the air.

    "What?!" there came the surprised voice of Finn.

    "They are the ones behind your friend''s death," He said, tipping his dark hat that he quickly conjured up. "There will come a time when you need power... I will take my leave then."

    Judge vanished into the darkness as Finn watched him in awe, confused. Suddenly, the entire world around him shifted, he felt dizzy, and before he could register what was happening, he woke up in his bed.

    Suddenly, he heard a surprised voice. "Finn!" It was his cousin, Teresa, she was sitting beside his bed, cutting some fruits. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Teresa? Wasn''t I just ahh..." Finn clutched his head, it was hearing really badly.

    "Take it easy Finn, you''ve been out for three days." She put away the tray on her lap to the small table nearby.

    "Three days?" Finn was confused, but before he could get answers, he heard his mother''s call from across the house. "Teresa, please come here for a second."

    "Stay here Finn, you should not move around. I will be right back." She left after saying that.

    He looked at his cousin who just hurried off with a thoughtful face, what would happen to them if he had gone? The thought dawned on him, he needed revenge, but he could not tie his life to it. He still had to look after his family, Teresa and his mother could not live without his support.

    With a determined thought, he removed his blankets and got off of his bed. He did not know why he was back there, it might be that the observer of god played a trick on his mind to visit him in his sleep, he somehow felt relieved that he had not finished the beer he had saved for later.

    Scanning the whole wooden room, his gaze fell upon a rather fancy wooden box that was tucked away in the distant corner. It was not too fancy, but it definitely did not belong in the place.

    It was a deep reddish brown wooden box, it had metal edges that were painted white. The corners and the lock were both made of copper. The chest would sell for a good price if they were having a hard time, yet it was the only thing that was not poor inside his room.

    He kneeled near the box and slowly unlocked it, as if it was a treasure he sought after and he finally got it after countless trials.

    There was nothing but a sleek sword inside the box, it was long and white, without much design. There was a pink catalyst on the end of the handle, it lit up in a bright red color as he touched it.

    Catalysts were extremely rare when it came to small villages like this, and they were absolutely not something someone poor like Finn could afford. The sword was his mother''s, he took the sword out of the box and ran his hand on the surface of the white scabbard.

    An old scene played in his mind, a time when his parents worked as mercenaries, a time when he was taught how to wield a sword. His mother and father used to fight over whether he would learn a sleek sword or a broad sword.

 Chapter 81 - 81: When Happiness Took a Day Offâ€”And Never Came Back

    Derina, Finn''s mother, was an exceptional mercenary. She was not the strongest by any means, but she was not weak either. She was known as a Saintess during her time as a mercenary due to her extremely good healing capabilities.

    His father, on the other hand, was a brute who had muscles for brains, he was one of the top brass in the town. He was so cold and ruthless that people began to call him the blood-soaked warrior. The couple, though only comrades at that time, were in a mercenary group of four.

    Through countless life or death battles, the group had unquestioning trust for each other. The brute known as the blood-soaked warrior slowly fell in love with the saintess in their party.

    Their love followed a marriage and a happy time for the party, they decided to not take any commissions for a while and just enjoy their life. That decision was taken by the captain of their group, who was Finn''s father.

    The party was disbanded, with the members either going on their travels, or living a quiet life in the countryside. One year passed and Derina gave birth to Finn, the whole group was called together again to celebrate the occasion.

    The following time was the happiest for the couple, they also moved to a countryside village to live a quiet life. After two entire years, after Finn turned one, his father decided to move to the city again for his education.

    Derina and her husband never wanted their child to be an uneducated mercenary like them, but they still decided to teach him swordsmanship in order to better survive when met with a challenge.

    They rounded up their savings and got a pretty big house in the city, and not knowing any other jobs, his father decided to take on commissions again. He sent letters to his former teammates who were now married if they could come, and the new couples happily obliged to go on another adventure.

    Time passed as Finn grew up with Derek, the son of the other couples from the party. Both their parents would go on commissions that sometimes would even last a whole week. But each day was a happy one for them, all they needed was each other.

    One day, Finn''s mother decided to stay behind to teach the young ones how to wield a sword. Finn had heard his mother and father arguing about who would teach them swordsmanship.

    But the argument did not last long as the man who fell deeply in love could not say no to his woman. Derina won the exchange of words and decided to teach them how to wield longswords.

    The lessons continued for a long time, but they always got repeated warnings on why they should not become muscle-headed mercenaries like them and live a better life. Finn and Derek, both did not give much thought to it and just agreed, but they never had any plans to be mercenaries.

    Limdon was a town that was harsh to people looking for a job, so many opted to be a mercenary because of the easy entrance criteria. Because of the availability of a variety of people in the mercenary guild, it was extremely popular.

    But as people who had education were less, there would always be demand for them in other areas of work that did not require one to endanger their life. While Finn and Derek were too young to know this, their parents definitely were aiming for their kids to work in a safer environment.

    But as a wise man once said, "Nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world". (The line is by Madara from Naruto, and if you haven''t watched it yet... Why?) And that was always the reality for those who hope without a plan.

    On a faithful day, both their parents headed to work for a short flux zone exploration. Flux zones were dangerous places where the ether swirls around with wild fury, it was a place where you become unable to use ether.

    That would make the venture difficult, thankfully, there were no monsters inside other than the ones without any ether, but they were physically strong. There was only one reason why people still headed into the place despite the difficult situation.

    Any strong artifact requires a base that contains a huge load of ether, and the one thing that causes flux zones to appear, the flux core, would contain a beastly amount of ether inside it. Nobles and wealthy individuals would pay a hefty sum to mercenaries just to get their hands on one.

    This was such a mission, just a big commission to head inside a flux zone and get the flux core. The zone was around for a couple of decades, but it was only discovered recently. The wyvern noble house called Drakonis, who never commissioned the mercenaries was the one who gave the mission.

    It was rare for them to give missions because their knights were all extremely talented. But it was a time when some cultists were at war with them, they said that it was dangerous and they did not have enough manpower to spare.

    Finn and Derek had insisted that they go with them, but as protective parents, they refused. The headed into the flux zone with an dozen more or so parties¡ª but it was more dangerous than they expected.

    Turns out, when dragons say ''dangerous'', it is pretty dangerous.

    Weeks had passed without a word from Finn and Derek''s parents. The memory of that night remained sharp in Finn''s mind, haunting him even as time blurred the edges of everything else. It was the night when his world unraveled.

    Derina, Finn''s mother, had returned alone. The once-proud mercenary, known for her healing skills and resilience, wobbled into view just before sunset. Her cloak, once spotless, was stained with blood and dirt, her body barely upright as she made her way toward the house. In her arms, she carried a bundle, tightly wrapped in a cloth, that shifted with each of her uneven steps.

    Finn could still remember the cold weight in his chest when he realized what was happening. Derina collapsed just as she reached the front of the house. He had run to her then, his hands trembling as he reached for her. She had tried to speak but her voice had been faint, barely above a whisper.

    He didn''t need to hear the words. The cloth had fallen away, revealing the battered and lifeless form of his father. The blood-soaked warrior, the man who had seemed unbeatable, now lay cold and motionless in his mother''s arms.

    Finn''s breath had caught in his throat as he stared at the corpse, his mind refusing to accept the sight before him. His father''s face, pale and hollow, was the only thing he could focus on. His mother had tried, she had fought her way back, but the weight of their failure had been written across her face. She had come back alive, but his father hadn''t. And neither had Derek''s parents.

    Derina had whispered something about the flux core, about how they had not found it even at a terrible cost. The place had been far more dangerous than anyone could have imagined. The creatures they encountered weren''t like anything they had ever faced. And despite their experience, despite their strength, it hadn''t been enough. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And while he was focusing on his father, and Derek''s eye wandering off without focusing anywhere¡ª his mother collapsed.

 Chapter 82 - 82: Judge vs. Mom: The Battle He Can Never Win

    Judge stood next to Lucifer, both watching Finn from behind, clearly uninterested in what was happening. Finn was merely sitting there, lazily running his hand over the white sheath of his mother''s sword like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

    Babysitting Finn was like watching paint dry, except the paint at least had the decency to eventually dry. "Ah, yes. Nothing says ''I''m pondering the universe'' like stroking a sword sheath for an hour. Truly, Finn was a master of deep thought¡ª or maybe just deeply bored." Judge ridiculed him internally

    "You look after him," Judge said with an indifferent wave of his hand as if delegating the task of babysitting an adult. And Judge was clearly not cut out for babysitting, if he did, he knew the baby was never gonna go back to their parents, since there wouldn''t be any ''babies'' left, he was that bad.

    "As you wish, Observer," Lucifer replied, his tone drenched in reluctance. Normally, he''d have Straight up rejected the absurdly boring task, but Judge''s scriptwriter ability left no room for sass this time.

    In a flash, Judge teleported back to his Studio and swapped out the scenery. Gone was Finn''s cozy little house, replaced by the grandiose throne room¡ª complete with a long marble table that looked like someone couldn''t decide whether they wanted granite or stone and just went with both.

    Not wasting any time, Judge teleported back to his own home, carefully avoiding raising any suspicion. After all, the last thing he wanted was his mother sniffing around for him. That would be¡­ bad. Very bad. His mother was well within the "Do Not Anger" zone of the universe, an entity beyond even the almighty Observer''s range of influence.

    He glanced around his familiar surroundings¡ª the high wooden ceiling, the extravagant chandelier swinging slightly, his wooden desk filled with important things he never used, and oh yes, his loving, doting mother... who looked incredibly angry. Wait. Mom?!

    Judge froze. Oh no. He was doomed. His mother had made it explicitly clear he wasn''t to leave the house without permission. Being the child of a prominent household and a known prodigy, Judge wasn''t exactly free to roam around unsupervised.

    Judge could manipulate ether, bend reality, and write people''s actions, but none of that could save him from the true force of nature: Mom. She was the final boss, the unskippable cutscene, the inescapable doom." And when he tries to explain himself, you could add: "He could face hordes of enemies without flinching, but now his tongue had decided to take a vacation. Worst timing ever.

    "M-Mom¡­ I c-can explain," Judge stammered, suddenly feeling very un-prodigy-like. He could have explained things better if he could just think clearly and his tongue actually said what he needed, but his mother was one thing he was weak towards.

    "Oh?" Eleyn''s smile was charming enough to melt the coldest heart, but the glint in her eyes promised consequences. "My sweet son wants to explain why he disobeyed me and ran off?" Her smile widened in a way that made Judge''s blood run cold. "Should I hear him out?"

    Judge gulped, his mind racing. He was either going to be the prodigy of "Tragic Early Death" in tomorrow''s paper or, if he was lucky, he might escape with a few broken bones. It all depended on whether his mother felt merciful today.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, back at Finn''s house, Finn had no idea that Lucifer, in all his creepy glory, was recording his every move. Completely oblivious, Finn unsheathed his mother''s blade, the silver catching the sunlight that filtered through the half-open window. He stared at it for a moment, before sheathing it again with a look of determination and heading for the door.

    Across the house, Derina lay in bed, paralyzed from the waist down since that fateful incident with her husband. Only she knew¡ª well, barely knew¡ª why the paralysis had set in only after she returned home. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She had burned her own life force just to get there, using it to support her legs for the last, desperate steps. Burning life force wasn''t unheard of, but it was rarely done, as the principle was poorly understood¡ª and very much feared.

    It was also what made Derina an unmatched healer. She had found the principle buried in an old book her father discovered in the ruins of a long-forgotten researcher''s workshop. And now, bedridden as she was, the knowledge she possessed was worth more than gold, though it had cost her dearly.

    Teresa, her niece, poured her a drink with the grace and efficiency of someone twice her age. Only twenty, and she already knew how to handle all the housework. "Here, Aunty, drink this," Teresa said, her voice soft and soothing. The steam from the herbal tea wafted into the cool air.

    Derina smiled weakly. "Thank you, Tres." She took the cup, feeling the warmth spread through her fragile fingers. One sip, and the sweet, comforting taste wrapped around her like a cozy blanket. "Mmm, better than last time," she said, casting a proud look at her niece.

    "Aww, thanks, Aunty," Teresa beamed, leaning in for a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. Derina''s body had grown more fragile over time, the toll of her condition evident in every movement.

    Finn, sword in hand, was just about to leave when he felt it¡ª a presence, cold and dark, like a shadow creeping up his spine. For a moment, he thought it was the Observer returning, but no¡­ this was different. This presence felt dangerous, like something out of a nightmare.

    "You are Finn, I presume?" A cold, detached voice echoed from behind him, sending chills down his spine. He turned slowly, only to be met by the sight of a young woman in white researcher''s garb. Her short, black hair contrasted sharply with her deep, unnerving purple eyes.

    This¡­ was definitely not the Observer. And that was far more terrifying. Finn''s first instinct was to run, but his legs had apparently decided they were too polite to move.

 Chapter 83 - 83: Why Sneaking Out Never Works

    Eleyn was eyeing Judge like she was sizing up her ingredients for a smoked lizard she could cook at a late night backyard barbeque party.

    "So tell me, Judge, give me one good reason why I should not punish you for sneaking out." She asked her son calmly and seriously like a proper adult, but her tone said otherwise. It was a storm waiting to form.

    "Well... y-you see, m-mom" Great, his silver tongue decided to have a break when he needed it the most, he silently cursed his tongue. "I wanted to visit the streets incognito... Hehe." He gave a self depreciating laugh.

    But his mother did not seem convinced, she appeared to be more angry if anything. Judge could not blame himself for his stuttering and the feeling of fear towards his mother. Dragons, most dragons, had someone whom they feared and respected.

    While most had only one or two, it could always go higher, and Judge had three¡ª his mother was the first on the list, she was warm and caring, but at the same time, she was cold and ruthless.

    Then there was his teacher, Miss Melina, she might be the only one who was of another race in the entire land of dragons. He heard that his grandfather had taught her. Speaking of grandfathers, the third person he feared the most was his grandfather.

    His grandfather, Gereon, was not a difficult person and would never get angry over silly matters. But he was excessively powerful, Judge was not at all afraid of his power, but he was more afraid of his grandfather''s calm and decisive manner of handling any situation.

    He had a hunch that he was not the only one who was a master at manipulating, and he knew his grandfather already knew of his manipulative nature, just like he knew his grandfather''s.

    His mind refocused as he heard Mother rambling on about how dangerous the world was that even being a dragon, he would be no match for many opponents.

    "Judge, you are my son, and I am responsible for your safety. And unlike your irresponsible father," She folded her hand into a fist just at the thought of her husband, "You are not strong enough to survive out there. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Remember, no matter how powerful you think you are, there is always someone more powerful." She thought for a second before continuing, "For example, you know that your grandfather is the most powerful dragon in this city right."

    She waited a bit and watched Judge nod in an unsure manner. "Your grandfather may be the strongest among the land of the strongest species, but there could be a more powerful being in the vast world out there, maybe more than one, who knows. But the strongest one would be a dragon still."

    Wow! Dragon pride at its finest. Judge lampooned.

    He nodded in understanding, and could only agree with his mother in this situation, he was afraid that she would suddenly turn angry if she got a negative response from him. He did not want to take the gamble, she was already angry enough.

    Just as he was thinking about how to get out of this predicament, he received a mental message from Lucifer. "Observer, there seems to be another person who is visiting Finn after you left."

    "Record them for now." He Replied quickly before going into deep pondering. But he needed to get rid of his mother before he could space out, so he listened attentively and nodded to everything she had to say.

    After a long while of nagging, his mother finally left him on house arrest, she used a spirit to watch over him and left after saying that she had a surprise for him if he just stayed in his room and on the balcony, he must not go out.

    His room was pretty big, it could be more than the size of Finn''s house, not to mention the spacious balcony. It was made spacious because he could get inside as a dragon when he grew older and learned to transform.

    Without anything else to do, he fell onto his bed and started to guess who the person might be.

    If they seek Finn, then it must be from the church of Tenebris, the god of night. But why are they after a simple peasant like him? When you think about it, even from the beginning itself, there is something that does not add up.

    Why would they go out of their way to kill a farmer, he had thought it was because of how Finn accepted god at the last moment and Derek thought it was stupid and not worth his time.

    Of course, Judge was not stupid to think that was all, he knew the church was planning something with their believers inside the village. And for that, the place should only have believers.

    Judge displayed the image of the person who had come to see Finn, it was a woman covered in bandages, she wore a researcher''s white coat. The only visible features were her short black hair and an oppressive purple eye.

    He felt like he had seen those eyes somewhere but he did not know where. She asked Finn if he needed revenge, to which Finn went silent and said that he would take care of it himself.

    Judge was suddenly glad that he only summoned Finn''s soul to the Studio, if he had taken the whole body or visited him in his house, he was sure that the person would have noticed his existence.

    But the bigger question was what she needed, Judge watched as she smiled after he rejected her proposal for revenge.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Finn was surprised at the smile that the bandaged woman gave him. He just said no to her offer, but why was she smiling? The unanswered question was shooed to the side as she spoke her next sentence.

    "Then let me give you a tip, the church of the god of the night is behind your friend''s death." her voice turned the air around her cold, and just kike that she vanished as if she had never existed. Leaving Finn to wonder how deep this issue was.

    This was a fight between two or more powerhouses, even including the gods. His friend''s death was just a side effect that the other force decided to take advantage of.

    He cursed himself, he was too weak to even partake in this revenge. He had no other choice but not to seek revenge, he was not stupid enough to seek revenge after all those big shots obviously wanting him to take revenge.

    He still wanted to take revenge, so he thought of ways in which he could grow stronger. Suddenly, he remembered the mask that the Observer gave him, he thought about it for a second.

    If he needed power, it was an obvious choice, but he was still skeptical. This was too suspicious, why would he be awarded power in exchange for curiosity? But the person was honest.

    He decided to accept the mask, working was something cheap he could do in exchange for power. He took a breath and put on the mask.

    "Welcome, Mister Finn," He heard a deep, refined voice behind him, it had an air of distinct authority. "I welcome you to the rank of the Recorders as Satan, the sin of wrath. It is not a mere position, it records your position in the grand journey of this world."

 Chapter 84 - 84: The Principle of Seeing Through Stuff (Just Not Clothes)

    "This cranks up the ether... and this part lets the unused ether sneak away," Judge muttered under his breath, poking at the artifact like a child trying to figure out how a clock worked by staring at its hands. Active artifacts were a headache. Unlike the dead ones, which he could gleefully rip apart to peek at their insides, these ticking ether bombs demanded caution.

    Even if he did take it apart (and lived to tell the tale), the active parts wouldn''t cooperate nicely, leaving him with an embarrassing jumble of non-functioning connections.

    That''s why he''d casually mentioned to Melina that he needed to learn a principle that would let him see through objects, though he''d nearly slipped and said X-ray. Judge cursed his past life''s knowledge of modern terms. Apparently, "I need to look inside things for purely academic purposes" raised some suspicion. Who knew?

    After much eyebrow-raising on Melina''s part and a barrage of reassurances from his side, she reluctantly agreed to teach him. Of course, it came with warnings, like "don''t get any funny ideas," but Judge wasn''t interested in fabric or, you know, anything people wear. He wanted to see the blueprints¡ª the mechanical inner workings of artifacts.

    What Melina eventually taught him wasn''t quite what he''d expected. No dramatic vision through walls, no supernatural power to see through solid objects. Instead, the principle allowed him to ''observe'' the materials that made up said objects.

    Basically, while he could not see through anything, he could still see the components of what the object was made of, its mechanics, and its inner workings.

    So if he tried to look at a wall, all he''d get was the composition: stone, dust, a faint whiff of regret from the builder. No people, no secret chambers¡ª just the cold, hard truth.

    Judge had created a similar principle while he was looking for the reason behind why there was a part on the stone wall that did not emit ether while every other part did. But the principle was rather simple and it searched for anomalies with the surrounding ether.

    Still, it was a start. And knowing Melina, she probably suspected he''d figure out how to tweak it. She knew Judge had a gift for ethercraft, which, to him, felt less like learning and more like playing around with the world''s most dangerous toys.

    Mid scribble, Judge was jolted from his focus by a knock at the door. "Master Judge, your breakfast is ready. May I enter?" came the polite, almost musical voice of his maid, Lediya. His mother had specifically chosen Lediya because handling him was like taming a particularly stubborn dragon¡ªand not the cute baby kind.

    "Come in," Judge said, voice flat as a pancake. Breakfast wasn''t exactly on his priority list. His mother hadn''t even given him the courtesy of joining the family for meals. Sure, it wasn''t that he craved company or anything¡ªhe''d just prefer the occasional opportunity to see his father. A man so elusive, he might as well be a myth.

    Honestly, seeing his dad was like encountering a rare celestial event, one that involved more paperwork than parental bonding.

    Lediya cracked open the door like she expected him to make a run for it. As if he would ever stoop so low as to escape his own room. The slight was real, but he couldn''t exactly blame her. His track record spoke for itself.

    She slid in with the tray, pushing the wheeled cart across the floor like she was more spirit than person. Dressed in an outfit that screamed "look at my employer''s obscene wealth," Lediya''s maid uniform was more fitting for a ball than breakfast service.

    Judge barely glanced at the food, Lediya stood beside the deep brown tray politely, her hands were on top of her skirt, one on top of the other. She wore a red full skirt with detailed embroidery patterns and laces, a light golden bodice, and a spotless white apron on top of her skirt and bodice.

    Anyone would have a second guess when they see the maid outfit of the Drakonis house, it looked like and attire for a respectable lady attending a banquet. This was only something to flaunt their wealth.

    "What''s for breakfast?" he asked, hoping to find an excuse to dismiss it. His mind was already crafting the line: Sorry, too busy being a genius to eat. But then Lediya, wise to his tricks, dropped the name.

    "It''s Worrak steak, Master Judge."

    The audible sigh that followed was the sound of defeat. "Fine, I''ll eat," he grumbled. His pride lost to the allure of perfectly seared Worrak steak, a delicacy that even his dragon-half had trouble resisting.

    He wasn''t about to pretend he was above a good steak, especially not that steak. Back in his old life, steak was just the easy go-to when you didn''t want to deal with "fancy" rich-people food. Here, though, Worrak steak was the stuff of legends, and once Judge had tasted it, he was hooked.

    Lediya set the tray on the table, and Judge dragged himself away from his work, landing on the cushion like a sack of flour. The plush red velvet practically swallowed him whole as he eyed the steak. His mouth watered. There was no going back now.

    With a fork and knife in hand, he carefully sliced into the meat, trying not to look too excited. If his mother knew he was this easy to manipulate, she''d have Lediya serving Worrak steak for every meal. Maybe that wouldn''t be such a bad thing.

    He savored the rich, buttery texture as it melted in his mouth, a cargo of flavors dancing on his tongue. The seasoning? Excellent. The cut? immaculate. The entire experience?

    Supernatural. If food had a hierarchy, this steak was a god, and Judge was its most loyal worshiper.

    For a moment, he forgot everything¡ª his problems, his schemes, even his lack of freedom. Just him and the steak, an epic romance he would never speak of out loud. He wasn''t just eating; he was experiencing life in its purest, tastiest form.

    In the midst of his savory experience, his brain decided to properly work in order to form a plan to escape to the expansive world out there. His munching slowed down as he started to think.

    There were a few obstacles in his way that stopped him from getting out, the first was his maid¡ª she would come to check on him every now and then. Then there was a spirit that his mother had assigned to him. It served two purposes, one was the fact that it served him as his familiar, and the other was that it was a snitch who would report his every abnormal move to his mother. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The third problem was his mother, while she was not as frequent as the maid, she would visit him at least once every day. He needed a plan to get out of this predicament somehow, But how? He started to brainstorm.

    "Master Judge?" Lediya noticed his sleepy state and decided to wake him up.

    Judge who was deep in thought was instantly pulled back to his senses, he had to think of a way after he finished his breakfast.

 Chapter 85 - 85: Judges plan for a risky endeavor

    After finishing the last piece of his favorite dish, Judge put away the cutlery and swiftly wiped his mouth with a napkin. He let out a sigh of relief as the oily food residue around his mouth was wiped, and then he finished the dessert in a swift action of grabbing the glass and drinking, he finished the whole glass in a single gulp.

    He then gave another sigh of relief as the refreshing feeling hit his mouth, cleaning anything that was stuck and giving him a fresh breath of air in his mouth.

    He watched as Lediya went out of the room, pushing the cart. He waited for her to close the door and waited a little more time, he knew she would still be somewhere to check for any anomalies.

    After making sure that he was free of any watchers, except that damn spirit, he decided to pretend as if he was observing a new artifact, even though he did not finish the current one.

    It was pretty abnormal in itself, but not the kind of abnormality that anyone would pay attention to. They only cared if he left his room.

    Pretending to be busy, Judge thought about various ways he could escape his quandary. He leaned back on his chair as if he was relaxing.

    Let''s see, the spirit could not sense my soul or existence, it could only sense my body. Besides the spirit, only Lediya would visit me frequently. The other visitors are Melina and Dosav. Each and every one of them could sense my existence, so if I were to leave, I need a small form of existence inside my body.

    It should still be big enough as not to arouse suspicion, I could just pretend to be asleep.

    But there is still the matter of them coming into my room, and when they check on me up close, there is no way I could fake my absence.

    So the factors I need to solve are¡ª leaving while my body is still in my room, I could use a clone for that, but I have to create it in the real world. Next is to leave behind a small amount of ether to show my existence, which is manageable, but the last one is not.

    I need to be alert when someone comes into my room, and I need someone to alert me when someone is close I can also not go away for a long period of time because of the spirit, but would be fine as long as I go out at night when my body is asleep.

    So the problem remains for someone to alert me when someone comes into my room, should I tell recorders to do that?

    No! I am a god''s descent, why should I need help for something so silly?

    Maybe I could summon a spirit by myself that would be outside my mother''s jurisdiction.

    After overworking his brain without a proper pay, he decided on a plan. It would be risky, but it was the only way he could go out. After the incidents with the fake reality, he could no longer bring things he made inside his studio to the real world.

    His sword instructor, Mr Dosav, would come in after some time. He would teleport them to a confined arena in order for him to train his sword, the house arrest was that strict, who would put their own child under such strict watch just for going out a couple of times... maybe more than a couple, but still.

    His plan was simple, he needed to learn how to summon spirits from his mother. Melina was a great option, but he had a gut feeling that she would raise an eyebrow at that request after his previous request for ''academic purposes.'' He was not comfortable with being suspected of ''not-so-four-year-old'' activities.

    After summoning a spirit, he would then use the spirit to notify him about anyone near his room or in the hallway just outside his room. He could sleep peacefully, knowing someone would wake him up if anything was amiss.

    Going to the studio was the next course of action, he would only go there with his soul like he had done when he first entered the studio. He could leave a little amount of his ether inside his original body when he leaves.

    Then he could create a clone and roam the world, it was perfect¡ª risky, but rewarding.

    Judge jolted up from his seat as he heard a series of calm knocking on his door. He instantly knew it was instructor Dosav, other than him, only Lediya would knock, and her knock was different.

    "Come in," He stood up and went near the unlit fireplace, why do dragons need on anyway? The winter cold was just a mild chill to them fire breathers. Judge lampooned as he took the unnecessarily decorated sword from the sword holding near the fireplace.

    Instructor Dosav entered the place without great caution when opening the door, unlike Lediya. She was afraid that he might try to escape, while Dosav was confident in his abilities to stop Judge before he even tried.

    "Are you ready to start? Young master Judge?" Dosav asked as he closed the double door behind him. "Today we have to work more on your natural flow."

    Judge sighed as he nodded with discontent, he had no choice but to nod. Unless he was seriously ill, there was no way to skip lessons. Any minor issues can be dealt with immediately.

    Judge thought about how the all-powerful ether that seemed to solve all of his problems acted against him when it came to skipping lessons. He silently cursed the healing magic, but he still did not hate it because he knew he would absolutely need it one day.

    Dosav watched Judge sigh as he swiftly teleported them to the enclosed arena that was usually reserved for fights that avoided the public eye. No that the public would come into the castle grounds to watch any fight without permission. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But this place was built to avoid the eyes of even the servants. The friendly duals between the family members were held inside this arena, and the walls were strong enough to protect against most strong attacks. They were as strong as the castle walls as well as the grand city walls.

    "Raise your sword, prepare your stance," Judge was uninterested in the rambling of instructor Dosav, he was strong, but Judge hated any lessons related to swords.

    He sighed again, this was going to be another series of knocking out a dragon child.

 Chapter 86 - 86: When you get lightheaded, literally

    Judge moved his eyes frantically as he tried to locate the sword instructor. He still refused to use enhanced cognition, this training was meant to make him stronger, and it would be too troublesome if people decided that he was too much of a genius.

    Soon, the strike came from the left, Judge instinctively dodged by leaning backward. But he leaned back too much and had to do an unnecessary backflip that left Dosav to reconsider his career choices, yes he would become a teacher for acrobats, that would be better.

    After getting back up from his agile backflip, Judge decided to take the initiative and go for the blow by swiftly stabbing his sword forward.

    They were both sparring with their own swords, but they were sheathed. Most normal weapons that are made do not faze a dragon''s skin, unless they were made by a master craftsman. But even a kitchen knife made by a dragon was meant to cut monster hides as hard as a dragon''s skin.

    Eleyn''s face flashed in his mind as Judge got a hard hit by a horizontal swing from Dosav''s sword, straight to his temples. If someone slowed down the footage, they could clearly see his surprised face with many ripples caused by the impact.

    Judge was blasted away and hit a wall, knocking himself out in the process. To add insult to injury, the protective barrier on the wall did not even activate. It would normally activate if a blow that would cause even a slight damage to the wall was directed at it.

    Dosav sheathed his sword and looked pathetically at the ether genius of the Drakonis family, He might someday rule the family, right? He sighed, there was nothing he could do.

    ...

    It was around noon and Judge was still waiting for his food, Melina was rambling on about the history of dragons and about the two important figures of the dragon race who lived two thousand years back.

    What use does history have? And two thousand years back? Why do I need to study about some old gramps? Judge''s thoughts wandered, never focusing on his lessons.

    "... And As such, the dragons formed an alliance with the gods, dragons promised to look after the people, and the gods did not have to be held under casualties of descending to the mortal realm. This happened four thousand years ago, and a new and prosperous era started. It was called Aetas Custodis, and it was named in the ancient language called Latin, but it is a lost tongue now.

    "Slowly, the gods disappeared from the world, together with the evil deities and other existences, making the world peaceful and prosperous. The dragons were revered as the guardians, and under their rule, the world was prosperous and many kingdoms started to emerge, the most notable was the kingdom of Eldris.

    "Eldris was started by the leader of the dragons, Emperor Rey and Empress Lyra. But the other races did not know of the ruler''s race, and nobody tried to pry... JUDGE!"

    Melina was so immersed in her explanation and she had forgotten about Judge listening. He had fallen asleep, his stomach was growling, but he did not seem to mind¡ª No, he did not even notice that he was hungry.

    Dragons had other means to satisfy their hungry self, their body would slightly absorb the natural ether around them to sustain, but it lasted at most a week. Many had tried to do this manually, but there was no principle created to do that even though it seemed simple.

    Even though most dragons did not fancy complicated principles, there were still dragons who researched principles and created their own. In fact, creating one''s own principle was a rare thing to find, even among species with high intelligence like the goblins.

    Judge came to his senses after Melina gave him a ''loving pat'' on the back of his head, the pain was memorable. He did not know when he fell asleep, but the lecture was boring, so he did at some point.

    "Why do you only listen attentively when it is about ethercraft and principles? History is also an important matter you know?" Melina pursed her lips, she did not know how he could sit straight through hours of lectures about ether and principle but fail to do so at any other, more interesting lectures. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "It''s because I want to grow more powerful," Judge had no reason to hide that fact as it would only hinder his growth if he hid it. But he never told anyone that he wished to become a god after attaining enough power. The only problem was that he did not know how to become a god.

    Melina turned around and prepared to leave, "History can contribute to your strength," she said cryptically and left, leaving Judge in deep and very unnecessary thought.

    The cryptic style of speaking made Judge remember Clio, reigniting his spark to continue his research on artifacts in order to understand the components of a divine artifact in the unforeseeable future.

    Watching Melina leave, Judge quickly turned his attention toward his desk where the artifacts were kept. He got up from his sofa and went to his desk to continue his work, he could not go out of the room anyways.

    Just as he sat down, his attention went towards the piece of artifact in front of him that he had not worked with yet and another one that he still had not completed¡ª and a realization struck him.

    I forgot to ask Mother about spirit summoning!

    His mother had came in with Melina and had left early, he was focused on why she seemed more energetic and cheerful and had completely forgotten to ask his mother about it.

    No! This is better, I have to ask Mom when Melina is not around, I don''t want to see two more raised eyebrows. He comforted himself.

    Putting aside the distracting thoughts, he quickly immersed himself in his artifact studies, but his stomach raised a protest by growling monotonously.

    As if waiting for the timing, there was another knock on his door. "Master Judge, it''s lunch." Came a sweet voice, making Jugde sigh with a smile, Nice timing! He muttered internally and let her in.

 Chapter 87 - 87: How to kidnap a four year old

    After finishing the roasted mutton chops with a side salad and a semi-decent soup, Judge wiped his mouth with a napkin. The soup was extremely good, but Judge''s intransigent mind refused to allow the dish to be as good as the Worrak steak.

    He let Lediya take back the tray and then decided to immerse himself back in his studies. But before he could, his sister decided to unreasonably intrude (knock on the door) upon his holy residence (his room).

    Judge sighed as he got up from his seat with great effort, he sighed again after he got up and went towards the door at a leisurely pace, and then he sighed again after he opened the door. "What do you want?" Judge sighed. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

    His sister seemed to be disappointed in his answer, What?! Did I say something wrong? The judge thought about what he could have said wrong, but according to how he usually acts, this should be a normal response.

    Then why does she look so discontent? Did she catch on to my acting? No way, I have always acted irresponsibly and indifferently in the house. Then what is the matter now? Judge was searching for answers, but before he could come to a conclusion¡ª his sister answered his question for him with another question.

    "Judge! Do you have any idea what day tomorrow is?" She raised her voice with obvious authority, making Judge shudder in fear. He felt as if he was explaining to his mother why he went out without permission.

    "Uhhh... n-no?" He tried to be as polite as possible, there was no way he could beat his sister who had been taught the art of transformation, "S-sorry..." He wanted to ease the tension and make her less of a threat, "You know? I was so immersed in deciphering artifacts that I forgot about everything else."

    "Artifacts?"

    Judge''s eyes narrowed, besides his father and grandfather, only his mother, Melina, and Dosav knew about his secret study of artifacts. "Just keep it a secret okay!" Judge fell into another trap after just escaping one, and he had to quickly fix this one.

    Amber''s golden eyes locked onto his ashen gray eyes for a brief second, she thought for a moment before replying, "Okay, but you still have to pay more attention to the happenings outside your room."

    Judge gave an exaggerated nod, he had no other choice but to agree, even though he had no interest in those things.

    Seeing Judge''s approval Amber came back to her topic, "Tomorrow is the day I depart to the wyvern house in the Wistmere city, I have to learn more about the world outside before I attend the school." She was ten years and a few months old.

    She should have already left for Limdon just a month after she had turned ten years old, the month was for her to learn how to transform into an actual dragon, and also how to be less menacing and turn into a wyvern. But she stayed to leave after Judge''s birthday.

    After going to Wistmere, she would then stay at the Wyvern Drakonis family house and learn more about the world before she was sent to the Eldris Royal School when the new academic year started on January first.

    If the schedule was too tight and one turned ten in December or November, the learning process would start earlier, but they could not leave the house before they turned ten, even if their birthday was on December 31.

    "Did you come here to brag? Just because you are ten and could go out does not mean that I am jealous." Judge spoke with jealousy and envy that he was deliberately trying to hide behind his words.

    "I just want to remind you to come to the docks when I leave." His sister turned and left without another word, even though she was nonchalant in her tone. Judge could clearly sense the superiority and the sentence "Haa, take that... sucker" behind her words.

    Judge closed the door behind him without watching her leave, he sighed Heh, kids. They just can''t wait to show off. He thought as he sighed again. Why did his parents had to have other children besides him?

    Judge decided to turn his focus back onto the artifacts on his table, and fortunately, there were no intruders this time.

    But the calmness did not last long as he saw a lofty figure sitting carefree on his open windowsill, drinking tea from a rather exquisite cup. His actions were like he cared nothing in this world other than himself and his tea.

    Judge''s warning senses were giving off their alarms like crazy, all of the windows in the mansion were specially protected by his mother against intruders¡ª especially his since he had a great tendency to escape.

    But the protective runes had no effect on this man''s body as he did not show even a tiny bit of discomfort just sitting somewhere where he would be constantly attacked by the runic defense.

    The man wore a cream double-breasted coat and a gray flat cap, he had a golden-rimmed monocle on his left eye, which was unusual since most wore it on their right eye. He had a sharp jawline and a trimmed beard.

    He turned towards Judge, sipping another mouthful of tea from his cup which nobody had any idea why he had one. His sharp, hunter-like eyes pierced Judge, the dark iris was even more menacing.

    Judge seriously wondered if he had been just a victim of random teleportation and he was interrupted while he was having his evening tea in his spare time, because that was the look he gave.

    The man put down his cup after gulping down the whole tea, the cup just evaporated like it did not even exist, it just added to Judge''s anxiety. He wanted to sigh, but his danger instincts told him not to move, who is he? He certainly is powerful, he does not even mind Mom''s defensive runes. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Judge," The man spoke in a calm, serious tone, "Wanna head out?"

    He would have rejected the offer without a second thought¡ª after all, ''stranger danger.'' But he recognized the voice, one he knew all too well. "Dad?" he asked, his tone filled with confusion.

    The voice of this man was his dad''s, but the appearance¡ª while he had no choice but to accept he was good looking¡ª he was not as good as his father, who had red hair and golden eyes.

 Chapter 88 - 88: The beauty and the corpse

    A man lay down on a damp forest ground, it was dark, but the blue moonlight gave sufficient lighting. He looked around, still lying on the floor. His face showed clear signs of fear, but his eyes were full of determination.

    With the coast clear, he decided to make a move. He tried to get up, but then realized something¡ª his legs were both gone, with dark, crimson blood gushing out from them soundlessly.

    He felt no pain, but his bewilderment grew in panic. Whoever his hunter was, he knew that person had got him, the prey. He tried to crawl away, ''just a few more'', he muttered under his slow and heavy breathing.

    But the slow crawling by scratching the ground did not last long, the next thing gone were both of his hands¡ª silently, painlessly. The man screamed, not in pain or agony, but in pure panic and fear.

    He knew his time had come, and without putting up any more resistance, he accepted his fate, he accepted the slow but painless death. But fate was indeed cruel, his figure started to be crushed slowly, starting from his leg above his knees.

    The man screamed as he felt pain, real pain he had forgotten long ago. Slowly, his abdomen was crushed by an invisible force, the sound of cracking bones and squished organs penetrated the silence of the night, together with an unbridled scream of a man in agony.

    After a short while, the screams stopped as the man''s head was crushed. The night regained its serenity, and the hunter who killed the man came out from behind the shadows.

    He had charcoal-black hair, deep dark eyes, and a sharp jawline with a trimmed beard. He wore a cream double-breasted frock and a grey flat cap.

    He went in front of the dead man... no, crushed corpse and stood there silently for some time, then he spoke in a low, apologetic voice, "You could have died an easier death if you were not a part of that foolish group, I am sorry, but this is the only way to get answers."

    After a brief prayer for the dead, he took out a few small bottles and rummaged through them until he found a bottle of grey liquid with white spots churning inside it.

    Without wasting time, he opened the bottle, and let a single drop fall out of the bottle, immediately closing the bottle and putting it away. He then clasped his hands together as if he was praying.

    Oh spirits who guide the dead

    I ask for none but a moment

    Allow me to converse with the soul

    The soul of the deceased whom I marked

    Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

    The air above the corpse got distorted, and a white and grey figure slowly materialized. The man in the frock coat immediately took out a silver cube and placed it on the ground, before it touched the ground, it flew up from his hand and started to spin clockwise, and an invisle barrier was formed.

    Searching through his double-breasted frock coat again, he took out a slim stick and burned its end with a blue flame he conjured using ether. The stick was instantly burned and the residue particles of different colors hung in the air.

    After finishing up with all of the preparations, he started his conversation with the soul of the dead man, who screamed pitifully as soon as he heard his voice. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The conversation did not go on for long, right after obtaining the relevant clues, he dispelled the barrier and let the colorful fog disperse. He stuffed the silver cube inside his pockets and took out a golden pocket watch. He smiled at the picture inside.

    It was his family, Alex Drakonis, with his red hair, along with his wife, Eleyn, holding a baby Judge who was wrapped securely in a cotton cloth. And also his two other little volcanos Liam and Amber. His gaze shifted to the time, "It''s high time I head back!" He said to himself, "I have to accompany Amber tomorrow.

    "But let me meet Judge first, I missed his birthday, and as a proper father, I have to make it up to him."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex drakonis, still sitting on the windowsill of Judge''s room, turned to his son and laughed, changing back to his original appearance. The charcoal black hair turned red, and the dark eyes that seemed to hold the abyss turned into a radiating golden glow.

    His facial features transformed: his Greek nose grew more angular, his eyes became sharper, and his brows thinned. The once-trimmed beard vanished, leaving behind a youthful visage that resembled a twenty-year-old struggling his hardest to grow out a single strand of beard.

    Judge looked at his father thoughtfully, he instantly knew what to do. If there was one person his mother could not go against, it should be his father. "Alright let''s go outside, Dad."

    He went and hugged his father tightly, who raised him up with both his hands, "You seem energetic, that''s my son." He let out a laugh as if he was the happiest man alive on the planet.

    All of Judge''s worries seemed to melt when he was in his father''s embrace, it was as if he had no worries to begin with, he wanted to stay like for longer.

    Alex held Rey''s hand and teleported away, he knew Judge could not go out through the window. Judge was hoping to see an alleyway or somewhere inconspicuous inside the city, but the view in front of him was breathtaking, literally¡ª He even forgot to breathe as he marveled at the beauty of the lush green scenery.

    It was not inside the city, they were in the sky, watching the panoramic view of lush mountains as far as his eyes could see.

    Without warning, his father transformed into a great, red dragon¡ª with wings almost as big as his huge body, Judge sat on his back and enjoyed the ride. "Hold on, Judge. Try not to fall." He laughed as he accelerated.

    "Whaaat?!" Judge Could only muster up one word before he felt the strong gush of wind due to his father''s flight.

    He decided to focus on the scene instead of letting the wind get him, he had to hold on firmly to his father''s scales.

    Judge watched the countless lakes and rivers, both big and small. There were many small towns, and he could get a clear view due to his sharp eyes, but he knew the villagers would have a hard time making out what was flying overhead due to how high his father flew.

    His clear mind had only one thought after seeing the beautiful places he had never seen before, even in his previous life. "Haa, take that, Mom! Who would you push the blame onto? Father is the one who took me out, you have no right to be angry."

    You are not going to ground Dad, are you? He could not help but chuckle after thinking about his mother who had no way of grounding him.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    What is happening? Judge was kneeling in front of his mother who seemed to be too angry to even hear him out, he turned to the side, Dad? His father was also kneeling but he was more humble than him.

    Judge sighed, why did he trust his father was gonna let him out of his house arrest?

 Chapter 89 - 89: Mom Said No Adventures, So Naturallyâ€¦ Here We Are

    "Alex," Eleyn''s voice sliced through the air like a scythe, carrying the unmistakable tone of a mother who''s just learned her kid has used her best kitchenware for a science experiment. But this wasn''t just angry¡ª it was dragon mom angry. Her voice remained cold, but her expression looked like a boiling cauldron that was one insult away from overflowing.

    "You knew exactly why Judge was on house arrest."

    They were in Alex''s room, though "shared" was a bit of a stretch. When Alex wasn''t around, Eleyn promptly relocated herself and her wrath to her own quarters, for the sake of, well, everyone''s safety. Judge, meanwhile, had been unceremoniously escorted back to his room, barely dodging an extension on his "vacation from fun."

    "Come on, Eleyn," Alex leaned into his most compassionate expression, which was only slightly less terrifying than her dragon mom look. "You can''t keep him cooped up forever. The kid''s going to need fresh air at some point. Give him some credit. He''s your son, after all. And if we''re talking about troublemakers, have you seen Liam lately?

    That kid practically invented chaos, and you barely even blink."

    Eleyn''s look hardened. "You know Judge''s... challenges. Letting him out would only endanger the innocent bystanders, or did that slip your well-organized mind?"

    Alex rubbed his temples, casting a mournful look at the cigar case in his pocket. His patience and diplomacy levels were being tested, but he soldiered on, hugging Eleyn with a bit more desperation than he''d ever admit. "Listen, it''s just that if we keep him in a gilded cage forever, he''s bound to figure out a way to blow the door off. Just... think about it."

    Eleyn''s eyebrow rose in suspicion. "What are you implying? And also, I won''t keep my child in a cage forever."

    Sighing, Alex muttered something about the Aetas Custodis. "Look, from what I could dig up, it''s not just him being a handful. It''s only when he gets, you know, worked up that... things go up in smoke. Literally."

    Eleyn''s eyes narrowed. "You''re telling me this now?"

    "I only recently learned." He reached for a cigar, only to have it swiped right out of his fingers.

    "No smoking in the room," she barked, without so much as looking up from her furrowed brow.

    "Oh, right, yes, because dragon breath and smoke really don''t mix," he muttered sarcastically, but he wisely decided to drop it. His protest, though muted, coaxed a reluctant smile from her, the first sign that her wrath might be cooling.

    "So, you find anything about controlling it?"

    "Got one, but it would not guarantee complete safety, but it would be less

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Meanwhile, in his "secure" quarters, Judge paced back and forth, glancing at the diary and notebook on his desk with the energy of a squirrel on too much caffeine.

    "Boring," he muttered, dropping onto his bed, then bouncing up again like it was made of spikes. He wasn''t even in the mood to fiddle with his ether-powered gadgets, which was alarming enough.

    After an eternity (about thirty seconds), a new plan struck him with the force of a divine inspiration. "Nihility," he whispered, glancing around to make sure no one had installed surprise parental supervision. He could pour his restless energy into the study of nihility, the mysterious principle he''d been sneaking notes about.

    Though Hawthorne had given the research notes to the noble who had commissioned him to find it, Judge had politely borrowed(Stole) both parts of the diary, he was surprised to find that he still had not gotten the beginning part of the research papers, not that he cared.

    Grinning, he began mapping out his plan with the precision of a genius, or possibly a very caffeinated raccoon. The plan was simple: keep up appearances until nightfall, eat dinner (to avoid suspicion), pretend to sleep (obviously), and then... nihility time inside his personal dimension with no adult supervision. He practically rubbed his hands together at the thought.

    With a casual strut, he went over to his desk and picked up his newest artifact called "The Cleaner." Supposedly, it could separate any particles attached to a surface¡ª essentially, a fancy magic vacuum cleaner.

    Judge held it up to his shirt, smirking. "Behold! The world''s most over-engineered lint roller... with a cup on the side," he muttered, chuckling as he funneled his own ether into the thing since he was fresh out of catalysts. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He rolled the horizontally placed cylinder on the artifact across his chest, expecting nothing more than a puff of dust, but instead, a paper appeared inside the cup along with dust¡ª an odd slip that shimmered like a piece of the night sky, swirling blues and blacks dotted with tiny, moving stars made of gold.

    Judge''s eyes went wide, he took the thick paper and put away the goblet. "Well, hello there, mystery parchment," he muttered, swiftly activating his enhanced cognition to capture every detail before whisking it into his studio. Mom''s sixth sense (The spirit) for "Judge getting into trouble" didn''t need a free show.

    The small, thick paper held a single rune, drawn in mysterious strokes. His mom and Melina had always been cagey about runes, which of course made him infinitely more curious, but he''d learned the basics from his granddad''s books.

    The rune was a circle with a small opening at the top, there was a "V" stemming from the middle of the circle, and it went beyond the circle, going through the two sides of the opening.

    There were two downward-curved shapes that were above and below the circle''s opening and they touched the two vertical lines from the "V".

    This rune, he knew. It was the rune for Sealing.

    Sealing, he thought, as if repeating it would make it disappear. Why on earth did he have a sealing rune floating around his person? The rune couldn''t just be hanging out on his clothes¡ª it would''ve been too obvious. So¡­ it had to be inside him.

    Judge''s eyes narrowed. Someone put a sealing rune inside me? His confusion quickly morphed into outrage. Who''s out here playing fast and loose with my innards?

    And sealing what, exactly? The rune could lock up just about anything¡ªa pickle jar, a wild beast, or even a catastrophe-grade monster. He shuddered. Great, he thought, they probably bottled up some nonsense that would eat me the first chance it got.

    As the mystery sank in, his rational thought dissolved, replaced by a slow, seething fury. Whoever had dared seal something in him would pay.

    As the thoughts turned the cogs inside his mind, his rational thinking quickly turned into hate. Hate for the person who tried to seal something of his.

    With the hate fueling his fury, his eyes lost their ashen white luster, it was replaced with an eerie purple glow, and he looked menacing under darkness that was brought by the setting sun.

 Chapter 90 - 90: Of course, something had to happen

    Judge sat down for a moment, the hatred he could have easily controlled was stirring up inside him. He did not know the reason, but he knew something was abnormal.

    He felt as if he was swimming in a raging sea with uncontrollable waves, he had no way of getting out of the large waves that reached almost fifty meters in height. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    As Judge was trying his hardest to get out of the predicament, he was hit with another wave and was sent underwater, having lost his strength to fight back against the waves, he slowly fell deeper into the deep ocean''s depth, with darkness swallowing him.

    Judge tried to stay awake, but he slowly lost consciousness. He fell to the floor, gasping for breath and clutching his chest tightly. He could feel his heart beating heavily and rapidly, he heard someone, a female voice, shouting before he lost consciousness. Was it his mother? He had no way to know.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex was lying on his wife''s lap, she slowly caressed his head, firmly pulling back strands of his red hair which definitely had seen better days. "Why don''t you ever wash your hair properly?"

    Eleyn did not care a thing about his hair, but she still felt uncomfortable to see strands of uncombed hair sticking out. Alex used to be a classic playboy when he was young, he rows of women standing behind him, but Eleyn had already been betrothed to him as his fianc¨¦ when she was eighteen and he was twenty.

    thinking back, there were many instances of her beating the living daylight out of him because he decided to go around and first with other girls since their engagement was a secret.

    She started to reminisce about their old time at the Royal School of ethercraft and the Eldris University for the Study of Principles.

    But her reminiscing could not last long as her spirit quickly came to her and materialized into a small, winged globe of orange-yellow light. "Judge''s seal became undone!" the spirit shouted in Eleyn''s voice, but it was less mature and more childish.

    Eleyn and Alex were alarmed, she immediately got up¡ª knocking Alex, who was on her lap, down to the floor. He got up just as quickly as he kissed the floor.

    Without wasting any more time, both rushed towards Judge''s room, they had no time waste whatsoever.

    Eleyn and Alex ran quite fast as the only thing visible about themselves were two blurry figures and a few afterimages, with the air around them moving away from their path. The hall was large, but there were many twists and turns, but did not seem to mind the turns as they never slowed down at a turn. There were blue and yellow electric currents behind them as they ran

    Finally, when they reached in front of Judge''s room, they stopped their sprint abruptly without even slowing down before. The sudden stop made the wind around them flutter in a storm of fury. But both of them did not mind it as Eleyn opened the door to Judge''s room.

    She saw the scene of Judge clutching his heart and falling to the gold and white marble floor. His face turned to look at them, the eerie purple glow in his eyes made him look menacing.

    She shouted in an unknown tongue as she hurried towards him, she knew that the situation would only worsen as time passed.

    Alex just stood at the door, he had no other job to do. Runes were in the domain of his wife''s expertise, without much to do, he closed the door and took out a few black darts¡ª they were so dark that they did not even reflect light.

    With a swift, smooth motion, Alex sent the darts flying¡ª one towards each surface of the room. Judge''s room was immediately enclosed in a barrier, from the outside, it looked as if nobody was there.

    Eleyn took out her pouch from behind a flower embroidery on her dress and her eyes scanned the tiny opening. After a brief second, she quickly pulled out a card that was squirming with black and golden colors.

    "I will seal his intense emotions, are you sure it is the best thing?" Eleyn turned to her husband and asked in a hurry.

    Judge started to move a little, there was a creepy, ethereal voice coming from him. "Deus... Meminisse... Destructio..." His parents did not have the luxury to listen to what he was saying, they absolutely would have if the situation was more in their favor, but a single word caught their ears¡ª "...Abyssus".

    The word spread deep chills down their bones, as if it was the most dangerous thing on the planet, even more than the gods.

    "It could be for the best, we will soon find a way to remove it," Alex answered calmly, as if to ease her tension, he would bear any problems that arise.

    His mother grew a blade from her thump that glowed with a silver luster, she used it to cut her index finger, but there was no blood from the cut.

    A golden colored liquid started to appear on where she had cut herself. Looking back at her husband and getting his approval again via a nod, she put the golden and black card on the floor and wrote another sealing rune, she was chanting something in an unknown language the whole time she was drawing the rune.

    She only drew the rune on the far edge of the card, and in the center, she drew another rune¡ª it was of two circles intertwined with each other. After finishing it, she tore the card in half, splitting the intertwined circles right in the middle.

    Keeping the half with the sealing rune on her son''s chest, right above his beating heart, and keeping the other half above her heart, she shouted, "SEAL!" Her voice boomed through the entire room, but no sound escaped the barrier put up by Alex.

    The ethereal murmurs quieted down, and so did any sound in the room. Eleyn panted and fell, and Alex swiftly caught her and helped her to lie on the floor. He then scooped up his youngest son and laid him on his bed.

    Making sure Judge was comfortable, Alex raised his hand and all the darts flew back to his palm, he stored them inside his dark navy blazer. He then turned his attention toward Eleyn who was lying on the floor.

    He took her up in his arms and teleported back into his quarters, the only reason he did not teleport before was because he was in a state of panic.

    He sighed, it was not the first time he had panicked, but it had been a long time since he had panicked to this extent, maybe it was a panic stemming from the worry for his child. For the first time in a while, he experienced what it was like to be more emotional than rational.

    "Don''t worry, everything will be alright in due course," He whispered in Eleyn''s ears after he had laid her down on their bed.

    Alex''s gaze shifted to the pocket where he usually kept his cigar box, but his wife had already snatched them. What a pity, He thought, I really wanted a puff.

 Chapter 91 - 91: The super edgy assassin

    Noel narrowed his gaze as he watched the ballroom from a distance, standing atop the tallest clock tower in Limdon. Bright golden lights spilled out from the glass windows above the second floor, painting a silhouette of the glass panes on nearby structures.

    The open window from an unlit room caught his eyes, some partying guest might have forgotten to close it after going there for some fresh air. His hands went behind his back to check if the knife was secure.

    He double-checked his pouch if he had everything, a catalyst, a teleport rune, some smoke bombs, everything checked. This was a great gig, and he only had one shot at it.

    He checked his pocket watch and put it away, he then walked to the very edge of the platform, raised both his hands, and allowed himself to fall by leaning forward slightly.

    The place returned to silence, with the golden bell reflecting the blue half moon from its smooth surface.

    Suddenly, a fluttering of wings could be heard, and soon, a dark figure followed. Noel, like a bat, flew towards the open window that he had seen earlier. The sound of his wings was light, one could only hear it if they were close to him.

    Noel came and perched on the windowsill, ready to jump out and escape in case of any anomalies. His eyes scanned the dark room, the moon''s illumination was not much, but he had the ability to see in the dark.

    Making sure there were no dangers, he got down to the room and tapped his forehead twice. In an instant, he was covered in a veil of darkness, and when it lifted after a few seconds, his entire attire had gone from a cloaked commoner to that of an aristocrat.

    He wore a long black tailcoat with a matching vest and a white shirt, his trousers were also block in color. He lifted his left hand and a silver inlaid black cane appeared in his hands.

    Lifting his other hand to his head, a black top hat appeared with another veil of darkness over his deep green hair which quickly changed into dark blue. As the last piece of disguise, he closed his eyes and opened them, and in place of his emerald green eyes, there were two blue jewel-like eyes.

    With the disguise in place, he quickly walked in through the door, concealing himself.

    Meanwhile, in front of a grand door, two people in tight and congested white uniforms stood guard. They both held an ether-pressured rifle with a sharp tip and two identical short swords.

    It was the office of a knight family''s head, and he was having a confidential meeting with many important figures. The host inside that room was Noel''s main target.

    In Eldris, there was only a single noble house for each race, and there are many other aristocratic families who are under these nobles¡ª they were called knight families, and they served as vassals for the nobles who represented their respective races before the king.

    The commoners referred to the Knight family heads as "Sir" and the noble family heads as "Lord". But people of equal footing usually called each other by their family name.

    Only a few knight families held as much authority as the nobles, and they were the knights who served under the royal family, Noel''s target was a knight under the king.

    Noel, in his concealed state, did not dare make any move and waited patiently for the meeting to end. He had planned the assassination with a lot of information and preparation.

    A long time passed as Noel''s waiting bore fruit, the nobles and knights left the place without any hurry and went to the ballroom to take part in the rest of the party. The host was yet to leave as he had to clean up the aftermath of their meeting, it was a short work.

    But there was another reason why he did not leave, and that was what Noel was after. He phased through the walls as if he were a ghost, he was following a man who broke away from the rest of the group on the pretext of going to the toilet.

    The man looked exactly the same as Noel after the transformation, with blue hair and eyes, a lean nose, and sharp lips. Even the attire of both were the same.

    Noel waited in the nearest washroom like a ghost, it was cleaner and brighter than many lower middle-class houses, and the gray gradient marble floor was shimmering.

    Soon, the man with blue hair, his first target, came into the washroom and stood there, thinking about whether to go inside a toilet or whether his actions had been enough to fool everyone, he decided to go inside a closet just to be sure.

    He got in and closed the door, but as soon as he did, he dropped dead without a sound, and from a shadow on the wall, his body double emerged, it was Noel.

    Noel searched the man''s pocket for a brooch, and he soon found it. After searching his whole body for anything of value, he found a few notes of sten, a gun, and a small container with bullets.

    After counting the notes, he put the ninety Sten away in his wallet, the amount was not much compared to the status of the man he had killed, but there was no need to carry so much cash to a party either.

    The money value was quite simple, the "Nen" had the least value, ten notes of Nen would become a "Sen", and ten notes of Sen would become a "Sten". Rich people often did not carry around much cash, since you could just write a cheque, cheques were bound to a person and no other could write in them. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Shadows started to emerge from underneath the corpse, dark tentacles started to wrap themselves around the dead man. They slowly dragged him inside the darkness underneath him, and the corpse vanished, sinking into the floor.

    Soon after, Noel, now impersonating the blue-haired noble, went to the office of the knight family head and showed the two guards his brooch, "Mr. Hallan! You sure took your sweet time." The knight family head said as soon as he walked in.

    "Sorry Mr. Sershaw, I had to be sure."

    "Never mind that, let''s get down to business, shall we?"

    "Yes Sir."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge slowly opened his eyes, He had escaped to his studio with just his soul when he noticed something was wrong with his emotions. And he had seen what his father and mother did to his body.

    Judge was no longer angry, no... he did not feel anything, it was as if his heart had gone hollow.

    He understood what was happening, his emotions were sealed in order for him to "not go out of control". His mother only intended to seal his emotions when they were intense, but accidentally, all of his emotions were sealed. She did that under a lot of unnecessary pressure, Judge thought calmly.

    He could get a redo of his seal if he acted emotionless, but this was for the better. He could be rational in all situations. He had to act as if he still had some emotions.

 Chapter 92 - 92: Sherlock Holmes? No, different series

    "Sir Sershaw and Lord Hallan are both dead inside Sir Sershaw''s office!"

    The news spread like wildfire, the guest had asked why he did not come out of the room even after a long time, and the guards, who said that they had strict orders to not let anyone in and blocked anyone from entering, were the primary suspects for the disappearance.

    Not only were they missing, but the entire office was rummaged. The safe was broken and all the valuables were missing, including several documents of both internal and external affairs.

    "It is not just an ordinary assassination or theft." A blonde man was talking to himself as he examined the crime scene. He wore a neatly ironed hunter-green frock coat. He had a connected mustache with the rest of the beard neatly shaved.

    The police had sealed off the room and were in the process of investigating. "Any clues, Detective Hawke?" A young man in a police uniform came to the blonde detective who was now kneeling in front of the corpse on a chair. He was a rookie who had only joined a week back.

    The uniform was a combination of high-waist trousers and a tailored long coat with high collars. They were in mixed colors of deep blue and charcoal black with strips of burgundy separating the colors. There was also a flat hat with an insignia with a symbol of two short knives crossing through a cogwheel. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "This body of Lord Hallan was moved onto the chair after being killed somewhere else, probably not in this room." His voice was calm and collected.

    "How do you know?" The young police asked.

    "Well Mister Heiser, for starters, the body died quickly without any actions, and the other body was killed with a knife to the heart. Both died without knowing how, so there is a high chance that both died at the same time, otherwise, there would be resistance.

    "But have a good look at the body, there is a sign of injury on the back of his head as if he was knocked out. But the injury is too small for a knockout, so he fell on the floor and the killer moved him here to the chair."

    "Then why do you think the body died somewhere else?" Heiser examined the head injury on the body which was barely visible.

    "That''s where my explanation about both dying at the same time comes into play," He smiled wryly and walked over to the body of Knight Sershaw, and pointed at the knife wound on his chest. "Do you feel the residue ether?"

    Heiser promptly nodded at the words of the detective. However he still did not understand what he was implying and was confused, but he could feel the ether, he was an elf and was sensitive to it.

    Seeing the young man nod Detective Hawke continued, "There are no wounds on the body of Lord Hallan, which means he was killed via ether and Sir Sershaw was killed with an ether-manipulated knife. Normally, this would have been seen as both died at the same time, but the killer had missed the timing a bit.

    "The residue ether on Lord Hallan''s body is gone while the residue ether on Sir Sershaw''s body remains, which means both were killed at different times." He paused to let the youth absorb all of this information.

    Heiser looked at the detective for a moment, his eyes were that of a man who was thinking deeply about something. After a while, his eyes widened as he realized something, "If both were killed at different times, then one should try to fight back and make noise, which would attract the guard''s attention.

    "This means that Sir Sershaw, who was killed later, did not know that Lord Hallan was killed!" He exclaimed, "And that means Lord Hallan was killed somewhere else."

    "Correct." Hawke gave him a light clap, "Now let me paint you the full picture, that I have collected till now.

    "Lord Hallan was killed somewhere else, and the killer should have the means to move a corpse, there are two options for it, one is necromancy while the other is by using a dimensional principle. It should be the latter since the former needs time and a ritual, teleportation is out of the question since there is a barrier set up.

    "The killer was able to get in after killing Lord Hallan, and the guards say that they saw Lord Hallan entering the office, so the killer should be using a transformation principle."

    After explaining all this Hawke turned around and went to question the guests who were told to stay back While they were nobles, they all knew better than to be arrogant when an investigation was going on and to listen to the police. They did not dare to offend the king who led the whole empire''s police force.

    He approached them and started to question them nicely and politely, "Hello, I am Felix Hawke, many of you might know me and many might not, I am an official Detective and work directly under the king''s orders. Now I ask for your cooperation for the questions I am about to ask..."

    Heiser watched as the detective left the room, and focused his attention on the knife wound on Sir Sershaw''s chest. The residue ether was slowly dissipating, a police officer used an artifact to collect a few of the ether. The artifact looked like a small transparent globe filled with crimson blood.

    There were many ways to identify similar ethers, but if one used a dispensible catalyst, it was impossible to find the culprit. This was also the reason why the catalyst markets were closely monitored, but there were still many underground supplies.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was drinking a glass of wine after his big gig, he sat in the underground bar where the assassins were located. They were a group who killed people for money, most of them knew that they were not living a nice life, but they needed money.

    But Noel, on the other hand, was rich, and he killed people for the thrill. It was not because he liked killing, but because he felt like his life was boring and took up challenges, he did not mind if he died in the process.

    There was a notice board on the wall where any new mission would be posted, he eyed the board for some time, missions for assassination would only amount to at most five missions a day, but most would taken the moment they were posted, only the difficult ones remained, and Noel always looked for something difficult.

    As he was waiting, a new mission was posted on the board, and many rushed to take a look at it, but all of them turned back defeated after they saw the mission.

    Noel smiled, his new mission had come.

 Chapter 93 - 93: When dad catches you red-handed before you even start

    Judge was eating a weird soup, "weird" might not be the right word. It looked like a normal soup, it smelled normal, it tasted normal, the meat and the vegetable chunks were normal, and even his tummy said it was normal.

    But there was something amiss, he felt as if something indescribable was happening to his whole body. It was the first time he had eaten this soup, Lediya had also warned that his body might feel different before he started the consumption.

    Even though the feeling was weird and different, he did not hate it, he felt as if he was being rejuvenated bit by bit every time he ate a spoonful. In no time, he had finished the entire soup.

    The taste was nothing to write him about, but he felt like he had eaten another Worrak steak.

    After the meal, Lediya instructed him to get some rest because of the soup''s efforts. If he was still in his old life, he would not even have touched such a soup made by his maid, he only trusted his own cooking, and of course¡ª his former friend''s too.

    But Lediya was different, she could not even step inside his room without his mother noticing her, and if anything was wrong, his mother would know.

    He leaned back to sleep more after he watched his maid leave. But before he could leave, there was a figure again on an open windowsill in his room, but this time, he knew who it was, it was his father, Alex Drakonis.

    Without uttering a word, his father came closer to him, dragging the chair he took from near Judge''s study desk. He put the chair near his son''s bed and sat on it, staring at Judge for a whole minute without even saying anything.

    Judge should have been uncomfortable, but he felt nothing, instead he just wanted to lie back down and sleep.

    "Judge"

    His father finally spoke, his voice was low and felt more forced than natural. Judge understood that his father had caught onto something, but he could not put his finger on what, he had many secrets to count.

    "What?" He finally responded with the same, calm voice his father used.

    "Do you trust me?"

    "Yes"

    "Do you trust your mother?"

    "Yes"

    "Your siblings?" S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Yes," He felt nothing from lying to his father about trusting his siblings. if anything, he only found them useful. Judge understood what his father was getting at, it was to talk about his sealing and why.

    "Why are you lying, Judge?" His father asked in the same monotonous tone.

    Judge was wrong, but he was not surprised, he could read a hundred strangers, but he could never read what his father was thinking, never. Even an educated guess was wrong.

    He looked at his legs which were covered by blankets, why was he lying? Maybe he was not lying. Maybe he trusted his siblings but never wanted to admit it. Maybe he liked them, grew fond of them. He was not lying to his father, but to himself.

    He was not thinking emotionally, he did not feel an ounce of love for them, maybe that was because he now had a seal over his heart. Just then, a thought struck him, he wanted to experience that feeling again, the feeling of being loved and loving others.

    He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out of his mouth. It was not like he could not speak, but he did not know what to say.

    "I ask you again Judge, Do you or Do you not... Trust me." His father''s voice was still nonchalant, but he turned up the volume a little in the middle of the sentence.

    "I... I trust you... Dad, it''s just... I don''t know what to say or... where to start." He could have talked normally, but this was pure acting, he felt like this was how he had to say it.

    "Judge you are only four years old, and life is still there to live, dragons live for almost two centuries Judge, you have a great life ahead of you," Alex held Judge''s hand tightly, "That''s why, you should not let your mind be your cage."

    ''I am fifty-eight plus four years old Dad'' He silently added.

    "Tell me honestly, Judge, you don''t feel anything do you?"

    Judge''s eyes widened, how did his father figure him out

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel looked up to the notice board, every assassin inside the building wore a mask, and his mask, a plain white mask with two hollow holes for eyes, was a symbol of fear. People moved away from his path, nobody dared to utter a word, and that was what a strong reputation could do.

    He slowly walked over to the notice board and looked over to the newly posted assassination request. It was to assassinate a noble''s daughter, the young mistress of the most powerful and feared noble house of all time. The reward was a thousand sten.

    This was going to be the most dangerous mission he had undertaken. His face had a fixed smile, and grew wider, if not for the mask hiding his face, people would think the man had really gone mad.

    He tore off the parchment from the board and took it to the bar. Slamming it on the counter, he said in a low, hoarse voice, "I take this commission," With that, he turned around and left at a leisurely pace.

    The onlookers all held back their voices as they let the man walk to the door, he paused right before he reached the door, came back to his table, and finished his drink in a single gulp.

    He then left at a normal pace, and only after he had completely left the place did chatters erupt, "Doesn''t that look impossible?" One asked.

    "Yes that is surely not possible, but how many times have we said the same thing?"

    "True! He even assassinated the general of the second royal army." Another man said.

    "But this commission is for the house of drakonis! They are the wyverns! That is harder than infiltrating the second royal army, they could instantly catch you when you try to sneak in."

    The whole place went silent, as if they were pondering what the man was about to do.

    "Amber huh?" Noel was talking to himself, remembering the picture on the commission parchment of a girl with red hair and golden eyes "I am sorry little girl, I''ve got nothing against you, but someone wants you dead."

    From the shadows, a lonely figure was watching him, he was not visible to the naked eye. Lucifer, looked at the man walking forward with excitement a look full of pity, "He doesn''t know where he is going does he?"

    He wanted to report the matter to the observer, but the assassin was after the sibling of a god''s descended. He felt stupid for even feeling the need to report, he would just hand over the record to the observer at the next gathering.

 Chapter 94 - 94: When your mother runes your emotions

    Judge looked over to his father, feigning surprise. He did not want to act surprised, but it was a natural reaction, so he felt like he had to.

    "You do not feel any emotions do you?" His father repeated his question, his voice dropped to an alarmingly low point between "I feel like I should be angry" and "I am angry but I don''t want to show it because I am too angry". But of course, he obviously was not angry at his son because of a mistake his wife made, he was not angry at anyone.

    Judge gulped a saliva that his mouth seemed to be producing too much, he did not know the reason why.

    The room was enveloped by silence for a short while, not seeing Judge answer, his father decided to take the initiative.

    "You might think that this is a good thing, Judge. You might take this as an opportunity... you would think that this is how you can reach your best potential, your optimum self.

    But just stop for a moment and think, you think you are the most rational now right? Just think for a while with that rational brain of yours."

    He paused, as if he was letting Judge think about what he just said, but he was a hundred percent sure Judge did not know what to think of. He continued after a while, "Judge... You think you''ve protected yourself when your heart was sealed, but trust me, the bravest thing you can do is feel.

    "We''re meant to feel, to love, and to hurt. Don''t let fear rob you of the richness of life that comes from feeling deeply... If I could go back, I''d tell my younger self to embrace every tear and every laugh¡ª those moments are what make us whole.

    "Emotions don''t make you weak, so trust others more. Of course, you should not trust people so easily, trust is not something that should happen overnight, you should first learn what kind of person they are, and what are they hiding behind that mask.

    "You are my son, so I know you can do it. Now let''s see your mother shall we, you need to re-seal your emotions, it is a wonderful thing to be able to feel." S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge felt himself smile unknowingly, he felt no interest or understanding of the meaning behind his words. But he knew, deep in his mind, what he said was absolutely the truth, his master, Seraphis, had told him this before.

    Judge got up from his bed, why was he lying there anyway, because his made said so? He did not ponder on that question and followed his father as they both were teleported by him to a room Judge had never entered before.

    It was his father''s bedroom, the floor was filled with patterned marbles of black, white and gold. The windows, unlike most rooms, were closed, with the red curtains tucked to the sides. The balcony was open, and beside the small tea table, leaning on a chair, was his mother.

    She got up as soon as she saw him, ran to him, and hugged him tightly. He did not feel the need to hug her back, but his body felt the need to hug back and smile.

    "Just go there and lie down," she pointed him to a sofa after letting him go from her hug. "I will finish this quickly, I had not taken any catalysts yesterday and depleted most of my own ether, runes are that taxing." She fished out a gold and black card with both the colors churning without mixing and also a purple jewel from her pouch.

    Long ago, Judge had read about the researcher who made principle for nihility carried something for dimensional storage and it ate away at his life. So he had inquired his mother about the side effects of her artifacts, and she just laughed at him and said there was no serious effects.

    Judge thought about what his mother just said about runes consuming vast amounts of ether as he went toward the green sofa to lie down. Being a powerful entity even among the dragons, she definitely had ether reserves extremely immense, and if just two runes could almost deplete them, how taxing are runes?

    He lay down and closed his eyes, waiting for his mother to open the seal and re-seal his intense emotions instead of all of his emotions. He did not even feel bored, rather, it was just a hollow experience, nothing stimulated his brain.

    Eleyn chanted something under her breath and drew the rune for sealing on the leftmost edge of the card, and then she drew two intertwined circles at the center before tearing the card in half and going to judge.

    She put the half with the sealing rune on his chest and the other half on her chest, drawing ether from the purple catalyst she had taken out before, she chanted two words, "Seal" and "Bind", she said both at the same time, it felt as if there were two Eleyns screaming.

    The two halves of the card flashed quickly and then nothing happened, but Eleyn''s face said "Mission complete". She held the two cards together and burned them, they were the cards used for sealing previously.

    "Let''s head to the docks at noon after Judge recovers, You are going with Amber right?" Eleyn turned to Alex, panting, she was clearly exhausted and needed to lie down.

    "Yes." Alex''s eyes scanned for cigars, but they were not there. "Not my cigars!"

    Eleyn''s uplifted mood quickly came tumbling back down, it was clear that she hated cigars. "You are lucky I am exhausted right now." She gave him a sharp look before heading to bed in order to lie down.

    The slightly frustrated Alex slowly rose from his seat, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before heading out into the hallway. He carefully closed the door behind him, making a mindful effort to keep the noise to a minimum so he wouldn''t disturb his wife and son, who were peacefully sleeping inside the room.

    He then headed to his father''s office to get some cigars from him. The payment for it would be to hear an earful of advice on his lousy behavior and how great his father was when "he was Alex''s age". He sighed like Judge do.

    "What a drag." He said to the empty hallway.

 Chapter 95 - 95: When you want to feel nostalgic but you just cant

    "...ge!...udge!...Judge!...Judge!" Judge could hear someone calling him frantically. It was a female voice, but it was not his mother, not Clio either.

    He slowly opened his eyes. They felt heavy, as if he had not slept for ages, but he still felt refreshed after he completely opened them. He did not want to go back to sleep and was itching to release this pent-up energy somewhere.

    He looked at whoever was calling his name. It was his sister, Amber. Oh! Didn''t she leave? Or was it today? He thought about it immediately. If she had not yet left, then it must mean that it''s still not noon. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He looked outside, the sun was looming over the horizon, waiting to be set to rest after a long day of shiny work.

    "It''s evening." He calmly said to his sister, he knew most other forms of talk would only get her mad, his best option was to act defenseless.

    After hearing her brother speak, Amber''s whole worry and anger melted. She could only look at his current state in awe. He feels so... Defenseless. She covered her mouth with both her hands.

    "Why are you looking at me like I am a terminally ill patient about to die?"

    Ok! I take that back, he never feels so defenseless. She went in and gave him a hug, much to Judge''s discomfort, he tried to push her away, but she held on.

    "Let him go Amber you are not giving him space to breathe." Liam materialized behind her, and she jumped in surprise. Thank you, Liam. You are the big brother I need. Judge silently thanked his brother.

    "Don''t do that!" Amber shouted.

    "Do what?"

    "For god''s... for someone''s sake, make some noise when you walk! You are as silent as a wraith, and wraiths are scary." The entire family of Drakonis were too prideful to bow to the gods.

    Liam laughed, and seeing him, Judge also laughed. Amber, seeing as two of her younger siblings were making fun of her, pursed her lips and went out the door. And that was when Judge noticed that he was in his room, lying in his bed.

    Liam wiped a tear off after laughing enough and sat in the empty chair beside Judge''s bed that Amber had sat on before she left.

    "Don''t hate her because she''s clingy," He gave Judge a bright and enthusiastic smile, which was as unsettling as Clio''s smile. "I hate her being clingy, but I don''t hate her as a person, And I love her deeply as a sibling."

    Why are you telling me this? Judge wanted to ask, but what came out of his mouth was a "Hmmm" with a light nod.

    "So the thing is," his brother continued.

    "Thing is?"

    "The thing is that... Oh, shoot I forgot what I was about to say."

    "Are you an idiot on purpose?" Amber came in through the white double door, pushing a tray cart that was almost as tall as her. It was Judge''s food, and Lediya came in behind her and bowed at them from the door.

    "I will explain because this idiot of a wraith called ''Liam'', seems to be quite forgetful." She seemed to be unnecessarily proud after she just said that. "I postponed my trip until two days later because you and Mother would not wake up. It was Grandpa''s idea though."

    "Mhm," Judge nodded but he was more interested in the food, "Is it Worrak?" He could not hide his excitement.

    "No, it''s roasted mutton with side salad," Lediya answered, and seeing his face going from excitement to uninterested, she quickly told him the reason why there was no steak today. "Worrak that was to be killed today suddenly died of unknown causes."

    "Unkown causes huh." Judge got down from his bed in his plain navy pajamas and got to the table, he usually ate while on the sofa, but today he felt like eating from where he was supposed to eat.

    Liam and Amber both went around him and got seated right beside his chair, and Lediya served food for all three of them, which amazed Judge since he ate alone when he was in his room, and talking was not allowed when they were eating together.

    Judge laughed without care together with his siblings for the first time in both his life, it was a wonderful experience that his past self had longed for, to be able to spend time with people whom he could trust enough to turn his back on in a fight.

    A shadowy figure was watching them all eat, he smiled at how his children laughed together. It was a wonderful feeling he had ever longed for, to see his young copies laugh together.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was surveying the gigantic mansion, it was still morning so he did not dare to get inside or act suspicious. This was the house of the strongest noble family of the wyverns, the Drakonis family, and his job was to execute the young mistress named Amber Drakonis who had just turned turn a few months back.

    He knew that when children turned ten, they would head to any of the schools. But it would only make his target hard to kill.

    From the escort to even the dorms, the security was strong and immaculate, and he was not confident in a direct confrontation. So his best bet was to kill her while she was still inside the house.

    Today, he was surveying the outer area of the castle walls, taking mental notes of the guards stationed, to everyone watching, he looked like a tourist.

    He observed a half of the wall before heading to a restaurant to grab some food, he had checked when their shift was for the past week, and the timings were also done seriously, new shifts would arrive at the designated time and take over the post. It was just like the guards stationed around the city walls and the port. No other place, except the capital, had this much tight of a security.

    Makes you wonder what kind of secrets are held within the house of the famous wyverns. Noel thought calmly.

    All the guard towers had bells and a roof above to protect them from direct sunlight and rain.

    After making sure the time was enough for the shift to change, he slowly finished his meals, paid a couple of Nens extra as a tip, and headed back out to finish his survey of the rest of the castle walls.

    Surveying the castle walls might seem unnecessary, but he was more careful if anything. After all, he did not live this long without being careful.

 Chapter 96 - 96: Intimidate the new guy, the usuals in workplace

    It was nighttime, and Judge was sleeping soundly in his bed without a care about the world. What was afraid of, after all, his supervision was lifted, and nobody came to check up on him at night whether he was trying to escape.

    There were two newly assigned guards just outside his room who were keeping watch, they swore their loyalty only to him, they would not take orders from the lord of dragons and his grandfather knew that very well.

    Unlike most guards, they did not wear any black armor armor with shiny patterns of silver.

    They wore tight, black blazers with a navy wool shirt that covered their neck. They had a gray furry capelet with a short, brown side cape that covered their left arm entirely. Man talk about no sense of color.

    All of the sworn guards were masters at the sleepless principle that let them only need to sleep for about two hours every three weeks.

    Both the young guards who, unpopular opinion, totally looked inexperienced, were guarding their mast who still did not know their without sleep. Judge, on the other hand, had gone off to the studio with just leaving a small amount of his own ether inside the body.

    Asmodeus and Gabriel both looked at the new member, Satan, who was yet to be seated. They did not know his name and title yet, so they were excited to know whether he was a virtue or a sin, and since sins were more in number, both expected him to be a virtue.

    "This" Judge pointed his arm at Finn, who now was called Satan, the sin of wrath. Immediately, he was teleported without a sound to the seat beside Asmodeus.

    Judge continued with his introduction, "Is Satan, the sin of wrath."

    Gabriel was obviously disappointed, but he did not dare utter a word.

    "Welcome to the recorders, Satan," Lucifer spoke, his voice was calm as always. Even faced with a terrifying existence to whom he had no choice but to yield. "I will do the explaining in place of Master Observer.

    "Your job would be to record any scene you see that you think has value. When a gathering is called, you present those recordings to our master. You now have two identities, one is your normal person in your daily life, and the other one is as a member of the recorders.

    "Always keep in mind that you never reveal your face to people when you are a recorder, and never reveal your mask to people when you are in your normal self. If you follow all correctly, you in turn get unimaginable power."

    Power, Satan repeated in his mind. What he needed the most was now power, the power to take revenge against the church that took everything away from him.

    With the introductions in place, the three existing members stood up, followed by the nervous Satan who was worried whether he would get kicked out for being a complete idiot even before he even got the chance to carry on with his revenge.

    After a slight bow, which Satan again imitated, they all sat down. After the process was over, everyone (Excluding the new guy of course) quickly transferred the recording they had taken.

    Putting everything else away for later, Judge started with Asmodeus'' recordings, specifically with the first prince, Renald.

    Judge scanned through many recordings of his life, not even avoiding any private moments. It was not because he had a fetish for men, but he did not want to miss any moments when the prince could do things like exchange messages.

    But all of them were up to no avail, Judge suspected that his intuitions were wrong. But he still pressed on to see everything he had been doing up until today. He saw all of the actions of the prince secretly heading to the bar and the brothel. In fact, he saw it enough times that he understood most of the alleyways and shortcuts near the royal palace in the capital.

    Judge continued to watch until he fell upon a slightly fishy scene¡ª Prince Renald was writing, yes the degenerate was writing, but he could not see what was being written, nothing was appearing on the paper that he wrote, and it felt thicker than most papers.

    But Judge was not worried, he knew Asmodeus well enough to know that she would follow the letter instead of being stuck with the first prince.

    Prince Renald ordered his made for a cup of specially-made coffee and it was to be served by the one who made it. And soon enough, a maid came in through the door without knocking and she handed the tray to the prince who was standing on the balcony.

    Quickly finishing the coffee, the prince secretly took out a folded piece of paper which somehow felt less thicker compared to before, but Judge just brushed it off as his imagination. He swiftly put the paper on the tray and put his cup over it. "The sugar should be reduced." He complained.

    The maid bowed slightly and left without a word, that might have been a code. As Judge had expected, Asmodeus followed the maid instead of staying with the prince.

    Like any secret messenger, the maid "adjusted the glass" in the hallway. Judge paused it saw rewatched it slower, and as expected, she had taken the letter. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She then carried it into the kitchen and was comforted by the other maid for having to endure the first prince.

    How much of a hate object was he for women? Judge almost felt sorry for the first prince, almost.

    After casually conversing with the other people inside the kitchen and doing her job as a maid, she then volunteered to take out the trash and burn it.

    Following her outside, Judge saw her take out the letter and open it, it was empty as expected. But beating Judge''s expectations, the maid threw the letter into the fire along with the rest of the trash.

 Chapter 97 - 97: Wow! More secrets!... Ouch! More headache!

    So many explanations formed inside Judge''s mind after watching what the maid had just done, one explanation was that the letter was not the prince''s and she burned another letter to distract any onlookers. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Another more plausible explanation was that the letter written in invisible ink was quickly understood by the maid and she burned it immediately, which seemed more like it.

    Judge turned the scene back and looked at the letter carefully, but there was nothing but a white, blank paper. He tried to look from different angles, but still nothing. Finally, he decided to try it from the maid''s angle, he looked at her and drew a deep breath.

    Slowly, his ghostly self phased through her face and his eyes stopped exactly where her eyes stood. Now, Judge looked at the letter closely... still nothing, he tried squinting his eyes and blurring his vision, but nothing worked.

    Judge gave up, there was no way he was getting info out of that blank canvas, it was like trying to win a World War with a custom made rifle that took too long to load and didn''t shoot.

    He moved on to the next actions of the prince, which too were entirely ordinary. After learning a couple more alleyway shortcuts and a few new brothels, Judge finished all of the recordings the Asmodeus took.

    He then moved on to Gabriel, after all, he did not want to miss anything about the church that seemed to be planning something. He had received news that twenty or so people suddenly exploded and died, the news was spread by the church of the god of night, and they took it upon themselves to investigate.

    But Judge knew who the real culprit was, so he was amazed at how sincere they were in lying while they were representing their god¡ª not that he expected the followers of Tenebris to be good people who did law-abiding things and definitely not kill people.

    Without wasting any more time and with his enhanced cognition firing on all cylinders, Judge started to look through the secret recordings of the church''s heinous crimes. But then, something snapped, Judge''s pain receptors started to function energetically as if they had been suppressed up until now.

    Judge started to feel a throbbing headache, an intense pressure that seemed to wrap around his skull. It''s as if a heavy weight has been placed on his head, squeezing tightly. His head felt a sharp jolt of rhythmic pain as he tried to think.

    He wanted to scream, but he was still sitting in front of his people. Taking up his whole strength, he stood up and declared the end of today''s gathering. "That would be it for today, you all did well and Lucifer, teach Satan the ropes."

    Without waiting to hear their responses, Judge waved them off to be on their way. They all bowed slightly before Teleporting out of the studio.

    Judge held clasped his head, and moving his hand towards the temples, he gently massaged them. He felt relieved from his pain bit by bit, letting him think more clearly.

    Why did I feel a headache?

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was nighttime in Wistmere, the second largest city in the Kingdom, second only to the capital. Covering over 700 square kilometers and comprised of five boroughs, it boasts an impressive population of approximately 4.6 million. This figure may actually be higher, as the survey did not account for those living outside the city walls or the daily influx of newcomers.

    The city was ruled by the Drakonis family and four of their knight families. The Brinewell borough, near the coast, was the most developed area, and the Drakonis palace was situated right in the middle.

    The crescent blue moon made little effort to light the alleyways that the street lamps failed to light. And a shadowy figure was walking towards a high building, it was a clock tower that also served as a tourist spot in the day.

    Noel stopped in front of a smooth vertical brick wall, the wall suddenly got distorted and a pitch-black portal emerged from its surface, Noel opened his pocket watch to look at the picture inside. It was him in a tailored tailcoat standing next to his wife who was sitting on a chair.

    He gave a slight smile before putting them back inside his black tuxedo, he tapped his forehead twice, making his appearance go from his original white hair to an emerald green and his Prussian blue eyes turned deep green.

    Looking at the distorted shadow portal, he took a deep breath and walked into it, turning into nothing but a shadow.

    Transforming into a human was common and nobody knew if there was a principle behind it, since everyone would be born in their human form no matter the race, and turning into their racial form was as simple as imagining it.

    Changing one''s features was different from changing into their racial form. The principle behind it was extremely complicated to even understand, and if someone did, the psyche was something else to look after.

    So the races who use such transformation magic were either the Goblins or Kitsune. They were the most intelligent races and possessed comparatively more psyche compared to other races. This principle was a rare usage even among them, because of the high psyche usage and many ways to be exposed.

    Noel sat on the top of the clock tower, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be in total concentration.

    Inside the big palace, the house of Drakonis, a shadow was moving as discreetly as it could, avoiding any and all light sources. The shadow moved extremely fast, but in terms of combat, it could do nothing except vanish.

    The job of the shadow was only to scout, it was controlled by the green-haired Goblin, Noel. The shadow moved along countless corridors, rooms, and halls. But it avoided any strong presences.

    Noel manipulated the shadow until it was only a few hours until the moon set and the sun rose because the principle took very little amount of both psyche and principle. The moon only sets when the sun rises, and the sun sets when the moon rises, that was the norm in this world.

    The assassin quickly jumped down, landing gracefully with a flap of his batlike wings. Then he changed his appearance to his normal, white-haired self and walked around like a normal tourist that he was not.

 Chapter 98 - 98: Why is this happening, God? Oh wait I am a god.

    The young dragon boy was sitting right on his throne and wearing an expression of utter majesty that rattled all within the room. Unfortunately, though, there was one slight flaw in this grand portrayal¡ª his face. To put it mildly, it was not in any way fitting to the ''fierce lord'' persona.

    Normally, he could pull off "foreboding" with ease, but thanks to the pounding headache that felt like a miniature blacksmith was practicing in his skull, he was about as intimidating as a half-baked lizard on a sleepy afternoon. And, to top it off, he''d taken his mask off. Big mistake. Now he looked less like a feared dragon prince and more like an exhausted gecko questioning all life choices.

    Judge massaged his temples yet again, hoping some mysterious force of the universe would banish the pain¡ª and maybe bring his dignity along with it. But right now, he felt like a genius on a serious brain break¡­ "A brilliant mastermind without the master... or the mind" he muttered to himself with a sigh.

    Judge waited for quite a while before his headache finally subsided, and he could finally think properly... if you could call his way of thinking "proper".

    The pain came when I was inspecting the church, but I am sure of one thing¡ª even if it is Tenebris himself, he cannot influence a skill that Clio gave me, she is of a bigger existence than himself. Thinking about it, why did he want to descend, I don''t think it was just to walk over the mortal world. And why can''t gods walk over the mortal world, didn''t Melina say that they did?

    Judge''s thoughts wandered, bringing back the throbbing pain slightly. Ahh! Fu... Judge wanted to curse, but he was against such vulgar use of beautiful language.

    Freaking headache!

    But he managed it with a less vulgar use.

    He let the headache subside again before starting his pondering, he had an inkling about the origin of a dangerous headache, It must be because of the Enhanced Cognition, I used it at max speed for so long.

    In order to test his theory, Judge activated his enhanced cognition, and sure enough, his head started to ache. He quickly deactivated it, There seems to be a limit to it, of course, there should be. I am sure there are limits to both Studio as well as Script writer. I should try them both.

    Judge sat upright and decided to leave the place and head back to catch upon his sleep, tomorrow was a big day for his sister as she would be heading to Wistmere after a long delay due to the circumstances.

    His father would accompany her, but both he and Liam could not because they were not allowed to leave their hometown, Ti¨¦rmere, before they could learn to transform.

    Technically, they could learn transformation as soon as they were four and awakened their ether reserves, but all the other races awakened ether at the age of ten, so the dragon kids were only taught transformation at the age of ten, or nine under special circumstances.

    Transforming themselves into a dragon was as easy as breathing fire, but transforming into a wyvern needed the backing of some complex principle that fortunately did not drain ether like a leaky bucket the more you use it.

    All of this effort makes Judge wonder why they were so eager to conceal their identities as dragons, he had to study history for that, and he was absolutely not gonna do it.

    Judge''s mind was full of such thoughts that he dreamt of dragons, and he dreamt of ruling over the dragons, with each one of them being under his command.

    The dream suddenly gave him a jumpscare with a familiar purple flash in the corner of his vision, he felt the same as when he had taken the black rune card with golden stars out of his body previously.

    He felt as if he could do anything, he was giving a speech to the towering dragons who were well over forty feet. He was giving them a speech, but he did not know what, at the very end of the speech, he dropped his voice to an alarmingly low "I look so menacing" type tone.

    It is time to seal the creation of destruction!

    Judge''s voice was cold enough to give himself a cold shudder¡ª he panted and woke up from his nightmare, he looked around in lingering fear.

    Panting, Judge scanned the room, it was yet to be morning, and the blue moon was looming over the horizon, it gave Judge another chill feeling all over his body. Sleep had deserted his poor self completely, so he decided to take his time to study artifacts.

    Getting down from his bed, he went over to the tea table to pick up his lamp, but stopped in front of the mirror. There, he saw it!... it was only for a brief moment, but just that brief glimpse was enough for him, the similar purple flash, his iris had turned purple before going back to his usual ashen gray eyes.

    The boy stood there in a daze, his mind was hollow, he wanted to think of what had just happened, but nothing came to his mind. After a long, tense, silence¡ª he inhaled deeply as he realized he had been holding his breath.

    He snapped back like he just awoke from a sleepwalking, and panted hard.

    What just happened?

    Judge wanted to just sit there and think for a moment,

    I got up from bed, and there seemed to be a purple glow inside my eyes. The purple glow must have been caused by the dream, there was nothing else that was out of the ordinary. But what caused the dream? S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    I have never done anything notable except remove a seal that I think was suppressing my power somehow, but what did it suppress? It was definitely not my powers, my emotions seemed normal.

    Judge sighed, the more he thought about it, the more confused he became and questions flooded from every turn. He leaned back from his chair, he still had not taken the lamp, but he was sitting on his desk.

    Tomorrow night, he would head inside the studio and study the paper slip better, he got up and decided to write his diary which he had not written in the past few days. He took up his pen, and started to write in English-

    Dear dairy,

    Today, I discovered something crazy. I was using a rune to try and clean my already clean jacket...

    ...and so, I decided to trust my siblings a bit more, but I won''t go to the extent of entrusting my back to them in a battle, after all, why should I?

    He marveled at his own handwriting and wrote the final sentence he wrote under every page.

    I will come to get you, Clio.

 Chapter 99 - 99: Tis a tea party innit?

    Inside the Rivet family manor, Isadora Rivet was having a tea party with some of her acquaintances. Her black hair had been curled neatly; she liked to cut it short, but it was not appropriate for a lady. The Rivet family was not a part of any Noble factions, but they were a rich household, with her husband, Noel Rivet, running a merchant organization with a few of his friends.

    Her attire was thin but layered, wearing a long gown with a tight black full sleeve, the dress did so little to expose a single piece of bare skin under her neck. The attire was a mix of deep crimson and shadowy black. The outer cloth split at the front, showing a black inner layer. She had a high brow and a lean nose, her eyes were green like a deep forest, and thin lips were smeared with dark red lipstick, a pink eyeshadow beneath her eyes.

    She sipped on a Tiva tea, which came from a small country in the southeastern continent called Patriadei. The country was a popular choice for tourists due to its stunning scenery, which included green mountains and loads of hidden spots, not to mention the beach.

    "Miss Rivet, where did your husband head to this time? He was in Limdon a few days ago. Must be hard to look after a busy man." A lady in yellow gothic attire laughed lightly while covering her mouth with one hand and holding a spoon in another. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Rivet put down her tea and smiled, "Well I do find myself lonely, but I cannot let my selfishness be in the way of his work. We were planning on a vacation, but he said the trip to Wistmere was urgent and could not be overlooked, that being said, where did you all plan for vacation?"

    Rivet was not the talkative kind, but when it came to her husband, she had no such restrictions, but she still kept true to her polite self.

    "We are headed to Berius Archipelago," Another lady in a green attire said, " I''ve never gone there, nor are there any relevant articles explaining the place, but my husband said it would be a nice breather from the city life for us and the kids."

    "Our vacation has been postponed to next month, my husband had to head to the capital for work." A lady in an elaborate purple dress said, she had a small child in her lap, and the baby was eating cookies. When the child noticed that Rivet was looking at her, she smiled and revealed a row of clear white baby teeth.

    Rivet returned her gaze to the baby''s mother, "I sure hope your husband gets less busy, where are you headed next month?"

    "My parent''s old villa, it''s near a small town called Nodespring, you might have heard it." She put the indigo ornate cup to her lips and took a sip. "We have to pass through Wistmere, so we would stay there for a couple of days."

    "Speaking about Wistmere, the young lady of the Drakonis house has turned ten," Another woman, who looked like she was in her thirties, spoke. "There will be an uproar in the Eldris Royal School, there is someone from the family of the most powerful ether users after all. My second child will be in the same batch as the young lady, I think her name was Amber."

    "Have you heard about the youngest child, he is called Judge I believe." The lady in the yellow gown spoke without much emotion, "I heard this through the maids, but that kid is always cooped up in his room and studying, such a genius, he is only four!"

    ...

    The conversation of the ladies carried on, they exchanged many interesting topics, from the newly emerging fashion trends of women wearing coats, to the old gadgets that still have not found replacements.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel was checking his watch, the picture of his wife seemed to give him more strength. He was waiting for food inside a restaurant. Today was his day off, he had to be sure that nobody had noticed the presence of a shadow inside the Drakonis house.

    This time, he would not be going inside or around the palace. Instead, he would check up on places where the workers and guards from the house would often come.

    As he was waiting, the wooden door was opened with a thud, and six knights in black armor with silver patterns walked in. There was a golden and red checkered crest on their shoulders, it was of an upper body of a dragon with its wings spread and it was looking left.

    The Drakonis guards!

    The whole place went silent, the knights were popular patrons of the shop, but people were still afraid of anyone who wore a Drakonis crest, such was the influence that the family had.

    If anyone wanted to be a knight at the House, they had to go through a strict selection process and a minimum of two months of special training afterward, there were countless youths dreaming of being a knight at the House since the pay was handsome, the starting salary was fifty stens per month.

    In comparison, the average salary of a middle-class family would be 35 stens per month.

    The knights were out of their shift after a long night, and they were here for booze, morning booze was nothing new since there were many jobs that required night shifts, and those people would go for alcohol in the morning to "Clear their head".

    Noel''s food was soon served, he had ordered food that would require a good time to make, it was expensive, but it was essential to be a nonsuspicious person.

    He ate slowly and waited for the knights to be completely drunk, the indicator was that they started talking.

    "Dude, yesterday was so tiring, I mean why would they not let us even sleep?" A young knight said to an older, more experienced knight.

    "It''s because you are new to this, your training still has a month to go right?" A brawny knight said, anyone could tell that he had been through quite some adventures.

    "Yeah, but why did trainees have night shifts? Is that not supposed to be your job? I mean I still have to go for training right?"

    "Your next set of training is for you to endure this, good luck lad, I''ve been there too. Waiter! Four more glasses." He shouted.

    Noel smiled, he left for the toilet after finishing his meal and went secretly to the kitchen by phasing through the walls.

    But he could not leave the place without paying, tourists are supposed to inject their own ether into a recording device, which would allow the police to locate and capture them easily if anything amiss arises, and every service needed tourists to show identifications through ether.

 Chapter 100 - 100: A Hundred Ways to Make Trouble (Noelâ€™s Pick: All of Them)

    The waiter brought in four glasses of Malty Mirage beer, it was not a popular beer among common people, but people with a high resistance to alcohol usually took the wine due to its high alcoholic content. The taste was also too strong for some.

    But without the waiter seeing, Noel added some "Flavorings" to four glasses and quietly left back for the toilet. If anyone asked, he''d call it an ''enhancement''¡ªto the flavor.

    The small white crystals quickly dissolved as if they did not even exist. And the waiter, who did not even see anything amiss, served the specially flavored glasses of beer.

    Noel swiftly got back from his "toilet visit" and checked the bill that was placed on his table, Two sen, five nen. He pulled out his brown, leather-finished purse and took out two one-sen notes and another, smaller five nen note. Not to appear cheap and also as a habit, he also pulled out another one sen note as a tip.

    He then put the bill on the table and picked up his suitcase as if he was leaving, be just as he reached the knights, he stopped to watch them for a few seconds, just enough to get their attention.

    "Huh! What are you looking at? Never seen knights drinking?" The brawny knight turned to look at him.

    The man in a grey frock coat smiled inwardly, "My apologies" he tipped his flat hat and said, "I am a tourist, I came here to see the famous Drakonis palace and the city they rule. I was astonished at the beauty of this place which is so different from my hometown. So, I was wondering if you could say anything about inside the palace since a commoner like me cannot get inside."

    Noel made himself appear like a talkative and cheerful person in order to ease the knights from any suspicion.

    "Well..." The lean knight besides the brawny one was the one to answer, "I think you''ve come to the right place. Sit down here, you need a drink? It''s on you though."

    "Thank you valiant knights, but I had my fill, it''s not appropriate to drink again. So I will just take a seat and listen."

    Noel put down his smooth iron suitcase and sat down, his coat hanging down the stool.

    "Let me think where to start, The Drakonis halls? A maze so twisted that even the rats carry maps!..."

    Sounds like they should just install signs for the poor rodents. Noel lampooned inwardly, but continued to listen in.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Haa! What fools," Noel was happy because he had just gotten more than he needed, he now knew the rooms as well as the shift times of the guards indoors. He just needed to check if there were any anomalies within the palace yesterday, but the return was more than that. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Sitting on top of a clock tower''s roof, Noel was again checking his watch. He looked at his wife and then closed the watch, a shadow formed on the ground near him and he threw the watch inside it.

    A mask popped up and was lifted to his arm by shadow tentacles. Slowly, his hand caught the plain, black mask with no features. Suddenly, two purple glows appeared where his eyes should be.

    Lucifer, who was endorsed in the actions of this man, suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of fear when he watched the eyes from the side. It was as if his body was screaming to bow in front of his presence... no!¡ª that existence.

    It''s the same as that woman in bandages who met Satan!

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge hugged his sister tightly, not because he wanted to, but because he had no other choice but to do it.

    After a long while, she let go. "I''ll be back in a year, but I will write to you. You should do the same," She looked at Judge who nodded out of desperation, and then she turned to her other brother whom she less dotted on than Judge. "Heard that, Liam?"

    Liam, who could care less, gave a slight nod. "I will only say that I''ll write, not how much, so expect a short letter."

    Amber did not start a fight over the length of the letter, she just moved her red hair to the back of her ear. She had a half-up, messy ponytail, there were a few strands of wavy hair at the front that were brushed to the side.

    "Come here Liam," she motioned for Liam to come forward, to which the always unconcerned Liam responded and came closer to both of them.

    Once she got both her brothers within her grasp, Amber hugged them both tightly again, like it was the last time that they were gonna see each other. "I am gonna miss you both so much. So..." She pinched Liam''s ear.

    "Ouch!"

    "Don''t make me feel lonely and write letters properly, okay?"

    "Yeah Yeah," both Liam and Judge said monotonously.

    "Okay?" She repeated, but with a little louder.

    "Yes!"

    "Good." She let both of them go and headed to the cloud weaver docked at one of the ports.

    It was Late October, and it had already started snowing. Judge watched as his father and sister climbed the steps to the giant ship that had a huge envelope with machines on the back.

    Judge took his watch and looked at the time, 6:02 in the evening, haa it''s getting cold!

    He rubbed his hands together to produce warmth. The ship let out a loud whistle as it took up into the air, the unnecessarily ornated big gangplank was removed, and the anchors were let loose.

    Anchors were the ropes used to tie cloud weavers to the port, unlike normal ship anchors. And in the late October 31, on 6:02, his sister left their house for the first time in her life.

    Wait for me, sis! I will leave the house one day too when I am ten. Judge thought inwardly as he watched the ship be devoured by thick fog, he held his hand out and caught a few snows in his hands.

 Chapter 101 - 101: Assassination 101: How to sneak into a castle

    Gereon was inside his office, watching the mountains and puffing his cigar. "Ahh!" He raised his voice to give a satisfactory groan, "Life has never been better."

    He put the cigar to his mouth once more and filled his mouth with the smoke, savoring the flavor. He let the thick, warm smoke fill his mouth, it tasted rich and earthy, with hints of cocoa and a touch of spice that remained on his tongue, leaving a comforting warmth behind.

    "Smoking kills"

    A low, sweet voice behind him said in a tone that was almost too dry to be an advice.

    "Eleyn!" He was surprised, she only came inside his office in case of emergencies. Like that time when they ran out of chocolates when Amber tried to sneak into the storeroom and used a principle meant for creating light, but she accidentally blew up the whole place.

    "What brings you here?"

    "They identified the assassin, it''s a big merchant from Loserrado." She was leaning against the door, only a part of her feet was inside the office.

    Gereon''s sarcastic face, a face that never seemed to stop smiling, suddenly turned serious, but the smile remained, even though it had dropped a little. "Is he strong enough or is he just an idiot trying his luck?"

    "To answer that question," She got inside his office and sat on the guest sofa, "The people whom I sent said that he appeared weak, but when I divined..." Her expression turned grim. "It said that he would succeed."

    "I see..." Dereon''s smile had dropped very low, it seemed as if he was trying his best to keep up his smile, "But divination can be interpreted wrong, and is not all-powerful. Did you inform Alex?"

    "That''s what I did first, he said it would be fine as long as he is there." She turned to face her father-in-law, "And yes divination is not all-powerful, the future has an infinite amount of possible ways it could take, and divination shows only the most likely path the future would take, and it could change depending on the situation, let''s just see."

    "what do you want?" Gereon crushed his cigar inside the ashtray on his table, "you won''t go as far as coming into my office to report this. At most, you would just ask a servant to pass on the information."

    Eleyn stood up and dusted her gown, "I want to head to Wistmere palace." She said with a dedicated face.

    "No"

    "Make sure things are safe before they get there... What! No?"

    "Yes, I said No"

    "Why?"

    "Judge needs you Eleyn, you know it too." Gereon cleared his throat.

    "What do you mean?! Amber is also my child. And there is some assassin after her who might kill her." Eleyn was now shouting.

    "He won''t kill her Eleyn, rest assured... And calm down."

    Eleyn looked at him and said nothing, she wanted to refute his statement, but she knew Gereon wouldn''t lie so confidently.

    "I will take your word for it." She said and left the room, and silence came to the office to retake its rightful place. Only to be disturbed again by Gereon''s loud sigh.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel looked up to the moon, the usual blue color had a hint of purple in his vision. He looked over to the big palace that had too big of a front yard, with an "Ah ... here we go again" energy, he took a leap of faith from the top of the clock tower''s roof.

    The man who fell from the tower quickly spread his own bat wings and flapping them, he quickly made his way toward the palace walls, his trajectory was like a siege missile homing in on the walls to destroy them.

    But no matter how close to the walls he got, he never changed his path. Just before getting the walls, they got distorted and a dark portal seemingly leading to the abyss appeared. Noel quickly dived inside it.

    There was a guard tower just close to where he entered the portal, but none seemed to notice. They were all fast asleep, which was unusual since they were not new and untrained knights who did not know how to stay awake during the night¡ª they were veterans.

    The shadow containing Noel moved toward the palace which was still lit despite the time. Avoiding all lights, he quickly reached the palace and phased his way inside into an empty room.

    Dusting himself well, he looked around the room, but his gaze was not focused anywhere, it was as if he was looking at something beyond the opaque obstacles.

    After a while of looking around, his gaze suddenly shifted and focused on a single point. He turned his entire body towards the point, and again turned into a shadow, sinking into the floor.

    The shadow traveled upward on the vertical walls. Phasing through the ceiling and appearing inside the dark room above, but it did not stop there, it kept phasing through the walls and through the ceiling a last time.

    Finally, it arrived inside a room with pink patterned walls and many decors made of gold on every corner and the study desk.

    Noel paid them no mind as he moved towards the bed, he materialized into a human and took out his knife from his pouch. After unsheathing he went quietly towards the red-haired girl who was fast asleep.

    He held up his knife above the girl''s chest "I am sorry, little girl." His voice was nothing but a whisper, but before he finished, the knife came down and blood was splattered all over.

    The killer, together with his knife had turned into a shadow. Leaving no trace of anyone ever stepping into the place. His shadow traveled even faster than he had come in, but he was not careless, he avoided any and all sources of light, treading carefully and exiting out of the palace.

    And on that cold night, inside her room, the body of Amber Drakonis lay in her bed, lifeless.

 Chapter 102 - 102: Relax, its just a prankâ€” The prank

    There were three main modes of land transportation in Eldris. One was the train. It connected all of the major and many minor cities and extended onwards to many villages en route or made routes through villages with stunning visuals.

    The next was the path weaver, a carriage but with spectral horses instead of the normal ones. The advantages where huge, they did not feel fatigued nor do they run away in fear after seeing monsters. Unsurprisingly, those were the transport options of rich people.

    Taxi drivers worked under any taxi organization since the cost of a single path weaver could go well over 500 sten, and that was just the minimum-priced ones without offering too much.

    The third and most used one is the public metro, which is seen in three of the most prominent cities¡ª the capital, Frosmire, the largest port city, Wistmere, and the biggest border city, Silvermeire.

    On a densely crowded metro station, a station that was connected to the railway station, people were pouring inside and outside, some looked at the city with full of hope inside their eyes and drew a deep breath, while some were returning with a defeated look.

    A black-haired man was returning from a ticket station with a smooth iron suitcase. Unlike most other people his age taking a return ticket, his face was full of joy, as if he had accomplished something immense.

    With a joyous face, he slowly returned to a bench nearby in order to wait for the next train that would leave for Losterrado. He opened the newspaper he had bought earlier and started to read. He scanned through all the article columns to find if there was any piece of news about his job the previous night.

    But there was not a single piece of news about the death of the young lady from the house of Drakonis. It was expected, since any person who could think reasonably would not reveal the news of the death of their child in the newspaper the next day. Not only was it unnecessary, but it also affects the family''s reputation.

    Soon, he heard a long whistle, it was the ether locomotive. He smiled and put away his newspaper on the bench where he was sitting on, after adjusting his flat hat and taking his smooth iron suitcase, we started to walk towards the platform, this would mark another end for his grand mission.

    Forgive me Amber Drakonis, He said inside his mind just before he entered the train. His beige double-breasted frock coat with high collars and the flat hat gave him a mysterious gentleman look.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Alex sat near his daughter, it was almost six in the morning, yet she was asleep. There was blood all over her chest, but he did not seem to mind that. At all.

    "Amber, it is time to wake up." He said so casually that one would not believe there was a person covered in blood in front of him, and what''s worse? That person was his daughter.

    "Hmm... a lil more time, just five minutes," Amber said with the calmness of someone who definitely was alive and kicking, and someone who definitely was not covered in blood from chest to... well, abdomen? S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You are wet, Amber, and you better clean yourself... fast." Alex was still calm.

    Amber just wanted to sleep, but she opened her eyes and looked at what made her dad say that she had to wash up.

    "What?!" She just had one look at her dress. Her white nightgown had been dyed red, and she knew it was not some food coloring, it smelled like blood, real blood.

    "What''s this?" She turned to look at he father, "Dad?"

    "I will explain, but it''s better if you wash yourself first, MAIDS!" He clapped, and three maids in a red skirt and golden bodice came in.

    Amber, without another word, got up from her bed and followed the maid to the bathroom to get herself cleaned.

    Alex also got up and returned to the deck, they still had almost a week to go before they reached Wistmere. It would have been faster to teleport, but teleporting such great distances had its flaws.

    One was that it required a huge amount of ether, enough to fuel a wide range destructive ethercraft principle. And that was only for just one person, there were still the matter of three personal maids, two personal guards, a personal butler, and a personal father... well he is still shared between two other people but still.

    So taking the teleportation route was not the best option, and there were no fixed teleport gates because of reasons like "Hidden Dragon Land". A fixed transport gate inside the city was bound to get some unwanted attention, and the law forbids anyone from setting up fixed gates inside their gates, except inside the palace of course, because hey... they rule.

    Alex was greeted by the cold white fog as soon as he opened the door to the deck. Their ship was smaller than average, but not the smallest by any means, the Drakonis family were extravagant spenders, but not stupid enough to spend a few people on a large cloud weaver.

    He stepped out to enjoy the view, it was breathtaking. The fog-covered green mountains with a touch of white snow, the large river in the distance. He could even see the animals who came to drink water near the river, his eyesight was impressive.

    But no matter how impressive the scenery was, it was nothing new to Alex. Though he was only forty years old, he had seen sceneries more beautiful. One of his most unforgettable memory was of a field that seemed to expand as far as his eyes could see, filled with vibrant flowers of all colors, neatly arranged by nature, there was the sun looming over the horizon casting, its last golden rays for the day.

    Along with that, he had also seen war-ravaged grounds with bloodied bodies strewn across the ground, he could still hear the muffled cries and desperate screams in his ears, but they did not affect him, he had grown cold toward emotions like sympathy.

    Soon, a neatly dressed amber came into view, she wore a green full skirt with a white, velvet Fichu.

    "What was all that blood Dad?" She asked impatiently.

    Alex put his hand inside his frock coat and pulled out paper figure, and it was covered in blood. There was a small cut on its chest, the blood there was thicker even though it has been dried, indicating that the chest wound was where all the blood came from.

 Chapter 103 - 103: Option One: Study Spirits, Option Two: Become One

    Judge was with his mother, she recently started to teach him about spirits. But there was one condition for her to start teaching him, and it was that he could not attempt any spirit summoning until she told him he was ready.

    No, it was not one of those things where your master says in a cryptic tone that he was not yet ready, but she had a clear reason for that.

    Spirit summoning, or in his mother''s words "Evocatio Entitatis Sigillatae", which even she did not know the meaning of, was an art of summoning entities sealed in the world beyond ours by allowing them to use our own body as a gateway through the seal.

    She said even the gods could descend if they found a suitable mortal body that could hold their immense power at the moment they made their descent.

    Judge being the weak child in her eyes (This is entirely Judge''s side of the picture), she said that his body could not serve as a gateway through the seal, so even summoning a spirit that was as powerless as a newborn was not in his reach.

    Judge was not liking this one bit, but what choice did he have... Wait! I do have a choice. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He looked at his mother, who was explaining about the history of powerful spirits and their recorded tales. He just had a plan on how to politely tell his mother that he may not like spirits after all.

    "Mom, politely speaking, maybe I don''t like spirit summoning after all." He had no plan, he just had to be honest. In his eyes, his mother¡ª no, his whole family was some unpredictable bunch of cold and calculating schemers, who decided to live together and start a family.

    Eleyn went dead silent, her cold gaze locked into his eyes, "You have two choices," her voice screamed danger.

    "What?" Judge suddenly regretted ever opening his mouth. That answer was, as expected, an unexpected one. Shit I should have stayed quiet.

    "One, study spirits, or the next choice," Her voice was calm but chilling, and that calmness was the most scary part. "You better believe me when I say I can turn YOU into a spirit."

    Judge could only gulp and nod, he had no other choice, he had gone deep into the trap he had set on his own. Again, why?!

    Seeing her son''s dissatisfactory nod, Eleyn could only sigh. "Listen here Judge, you are at the age where you should start studying ethercraft, Liam is studying material shift from your grandfather, Amber studied creation from your father.

    "And you, Judge, are going to study a more complicated matter. Believe it or not, with enough preparations beforehand, I am more powerful than your father and grandfather combined."

    Judge was in a daze when she was explaining, but her being more powerful than both his dad and grandpa combined was enough to drag his attention. even though it felt like too much of a scam, he knew his mother would never lie to her family.

    "Well, if you are talking about preparations, believe it or not, I am really good at it."

    "So am I, let''s just put the boring session on hold and learn to summon spirits shall we?" Eleyn smiled, the same smile that she gave when she was plotting something behind his back, but Judge could not put his finger on what.

    "Whatever you say, Mom." he decided to follow through with his mother''s plan for once. (Spoiler, it was a bad idea)

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber watched at the paper figurine her father was holding. The white surface had been dyed red with blood. She immediately thought of many things, but she could not put her thoughts on any of them properly, it was like a giant wheel full of ideas but it never stopped spinning to show an idea.

    "What is that, Dad?" She finally decided to ask her father directly without guessing more. Not only was it unnecessary, but also mentally exhausting, which was something she did not want to experience after the scene in the morning.

    "This is your connection with your body double inside the palace in Wistmere, and it all bloody means that it had been killed." Alex held the figure forward for his daughter to see it more clearly.

    Amber studied it before answering, "So, I was stabbed?" Despite the news of there being a possible killer out there who could kill her at any given time, she was calm and collected. "I was stabbed, inside my own house, in my room, and while I was sleeping? Possibly a stab to the chest?"

    "Yes correct, and there are a few good things that came with this."

    "And what are those Good things." She crossed her arms.

    "Firstly, your body double was allowed to be killed, it has been placed there since your birth, and it was about time to remove it because you are coming. So when we got news that there had been an assassin, and our sources said that there was a commission to kill you inside an assassin gathering, we instructed our people to just stay calm and act like they never saw him, but not make it obvious."

    "Why would someone want me dead? And you still have not answered my question."

    "I am getting to it sweetheart, and about who wants you dead, we are still looking through it. So, if the commissioner gets the news of your death, and it spreads among their circle of ''let''s take care of Amber''. Then, there would not be any more kill requests aimed at you, and if we were to catch that man who tried to assassinate you, catching the commissioner would have been harder."

    Amber was walking to and fro, she did not completely understand what her father told her, but she did not care as her curiosity had vanished, and her eyes slowly drifted toward the paper figure. "What are you going to do with that?"

    "Burn it, of course." Her father answered quite enthusiastically, and as she watched, the figure was quickly caught in small but extremely intense flames that burned it to a crisp.

 Chapter 104 - 104: Are you sure an assassin lives here?

    The Rivet family manor only had two owners, Isadora Rivet, and her husband Noel Rivet. Today, Isadora was sitting near the fireplace at the entrance. It was cold, but her clothing was still that layered red and black gown.

    tap tap tap

    Her heels were tapping on the floor intermittently. She was reading a newspaper, but she could not focus. The whole room was filled with anticipation.

    "Miss," A maid came in, holding a tray with green ornate tea cups and the teapot, she placed them on the table in front of her master. "It is Tiva tea."

    "No, take it back." She folded her paper to look at the maid, her voice was low but excited, "Serve me some grape wine, aged around ten years and fresh out of the cellar. I am not too calm to sip on tea today."

    The maid looked at her mistress for two seconds, and quickly bent down to pick up the tea set. "Yes miss." She left after saying those two words.

    The reason behind Isadora''s unusual behavior was a telegraph she received a few days back, it was from her husband, it said that he had taken a steam locomotive and would reach Losserado by today morning if nothing happened en route.

    She was not an innocent woman by any chance, she was powerful, but not as strong as her husband. And it was that strong Noel who had won her heart, and she was excited at the thought of just seeing him again. He had gone off for around three months, and had gone to Wistmere with a prior plan.

    Soon, her butler came in holding a tray with a bottle and a wine glass. He set both of them down on the table, "Here is your wine Miss, but I believe it would be best if we allowed the wine to aerate for a bit longer to fully enhance its flavors." He stood straight after setting everything up and holding the tray on his chest.

    "You may leave," Isadora was not in the mood for conversations, she knew the fact that aerating wines are supposed to make it taste better, but she could not resist the urge to have some.

    Taking the bottle up and holding the glass in place, she slowly poured the medium garnet liquid into her wine glass. After pouring enough, she put the bottle back onto the table and picked up the glass, giving it a strong whiff before taking a small sip.

    She felt extremely relieved after drinking a moderate amount of wine, she started to act as if she was drunk, but she was miles away from being intoxicated.

    Isadora jumped in surprise as the doorbell rang. Unlike a proper lady, she rushed to get the door. Just before she opened, she adjusted her black and red gown and also her posture, she then put on a smile and proceeded to open the door.

    Losserado was not a big city, it was more like a village that got too advanced, of course, the advancements were only in start contrast to the actual cities. The Rivet house mansion was set atop a large hill, there were expanses of green, grassy fields on the two sides of the mansion.

    There was a river to one side that broke the field on the left and connected to the ocean that was behind the house. The was an elaborate front yard that connected directly to the town.

    Unlike the Drakonis house, there were neither guards, nor walls on any side. The village was a peaceful place and filled with honest people who made a living through proper effort.

    Isadora opened the door to see her husband, and as she saw him, she fell into his arms and hugged him tightly. All of her excitements were poured into that one moment, Noel hugged her back with one hand, his other hand was holding a smooth iron case.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge sat in his room, thinking of nothing. Yes, he sat for a whole five minutes just thinking of nothing. He could feel someone watching him, as a cameraman, he could tell if someone was spying on him, and someone was indeed spying on him.

    Suddenly, he sat up straight, as if he finally came back to life from being a corpse. He took up his pen and started writing on a parchment that was spread open.

    Well, he only started. As soon as he dipped the quill inside the ink (yeah he chose the quill because he was accustomed to life being difficult), he remembered he was writing the diary, and the parchment was something he wrote about his finding about artifacts.

    He put away his writing slope and stood up, went near the shelf, and took out his diary.

    The gaze on him was lifted immediately as soon as he sat down and opened the hardcover copy of "A Dragon''s Rise to Godhood", at least that''s the plan, as long as he did not die in the middle, or worse, he did not find any clues. Anyways, the lifted gaze filled Judge with ease.

    Dragons value privacy, he thought as he started to write.

    5 November 2009

    Dear Diary,

    Today something unexpected happened, my mother decided to teach me about the summoning ritual for summoning spirits. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    It was not very complicated, after all, the ritual was only for a person to connect with the sealed domain. But the toll it took on a person''s body was top notch, one could even go insane from just being exposed to the sealed world''s ether.

    But hey, I am Judge, insane is my last name. Well actually it is Drakonis... wait! both mean the same thing, what a coincidence.

    So today, I am going to attempt to summon a spirit, as soon as the gaze on me is lifted. And I am gonna prove to mom that I can do it while I am four where she did it at ten.

    Side note: Doesn''t this feel like something is going to go horribly wrong? But no matter what, I made up my mind.

    I will come get you, Clio.

    Judge leaned back on his chair, the gaze still had not returned... It was time to test out his compatibility. He slowly closed his book without any sound, and he did not get up.

    He knew if he made any kind of noise that indicated that he had finished writing, the gaze was going to return.

    He took the parchment and started to draw a very complicated rune that was used for summoning. But as soon as he started, the gaze was back... Oh no!

 Chapter 105 - 105: When a four-year-old have some very concerning stationary objects

    Judge took the parchment that he had put away and started writing on it with a fountain pen that he took from inside a secret compartment in his desk. The prerequisite for writing runes is that, unless it was written on a special paper, you have to use blood.

    Judge had requested a fountain pen without any ink and filled it with his blood beforehand, it was when he was just starting to learn runes, he had read that it required blood in the book about runes his grandfather gave him.

    He had first tried to create the fountain pen within the studio and bring it back, but alas, he could only create stuff and bring it to the outside world before was because it was all just an illusion. The fake reality had registered it as an attempt to teleport stuff and created it within the illusory world.

    Wow, that is really powerful, but that is a god we are talking about. Anyway, back to Judge, where were we? Oh right, Judge slowly starts to draw the rune for summon in the parchment with his own blood. But oh boy, did he get caught!

    (A/N: If you like this kind of narration in the middle, please do tell me. I will try to do this or avoid it according to your suggestions.)

    Judge could feel the same gaze again, it was currently night, so the gaze was definitely not Lediya, and it was not a spirit since it looked away when he opened his diary. So, the only person this gaze could belong to was his mother.

    But if it was indeed his mother''s gaze, there was one problem, the gaze was still calm despite him clearly trying out runes.

    Suddenly, it clicked! All the dots started connecting, and his unanswered question about why his mother changed her to teach him about summoning even before she took all of those lessons about spirit history or whatever. Because apparently, spirits resonate with you more the more you know about them.

    She actually wanted her son to try the summoning ritual himself, but try was doing a lot of heavy lifting here, since she knew that there was no way he would succeed. But if he experienced the sealed world firsthand and then failed, he would be more eager to learn about summoning the spirits.

    She was keeping watch because if anything happened, she knew well enough to not allow a serious problem to occur. Otherwise, she would not spy upon his privacy, that was also the case previously when she assigned a spirit to watch over him.

    The spirit would only tell her if problems occurred and not anything else about his private moments. Anyone entering his room would knock first, so as to not disturb his privacy.

    He sighed and held his fountain pen firmly. He started to draw the rest of the rune.

    The first part was a vertical rectangle with curved edges, "runes with sharp corners NEVER work!" he had seen those lines inside the book of runes more than he had seen the office coffee machine break down¡ª at this point, it felt like a ritual sacrifice!

    On the top part, there was the sealing rune, same details but smaller. Over that was a wavy line, representing the unstable realm. At the bottom part was just a flat line, representing the stable realm, the mortal world. Above that, at the center, were two symbols, one was the rune with intertwined circles, representing connection. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    On the center of the intertwined circles was a single line, "I", which represented the self. After everything was drawn and finished, Judge leaned back to look at the symbol, the smell of fresh blood permeated the air.

    The blood had been put inside the container for years, foreseeing this would happen, he had specifically requested for the ink cartridges to be enchanted to keep the liquid inside it fresh and the state it was poured in.

    The ink cartridge was made as per his request, and it could keep the liquids in the same state as long as he provided enough ether, and also other could be liquids it cannot keep fresh.

    With the first step done, Judge moved on to the next one, it was to take out his catalyst. He took the wand-shaped catalyst that his Mom gifted him on his birthday, the one which can hold an absurd amount of ether inside it.

    Opening the path from his current world to the sealed world did not take up much ether, but it was dependent on what kind of spirit was the summoner trying to call. Low-level spirits responded to calls with low ether offers, which was most of the summoning rituals. If a person had to offer high quantities of ether, then a more powerful spirit may respond.

    There was also another factor that affected the type of spirit a person summons, if one had a high affinity with a high-level spirit, then even with small quantities of ether, they could summon powerful spirits.

    Holding the wand tightly in his hand, almost too tightly, Judge proceeded to the next and final step, which was to chant a summoning spell that came to his mind, it should be natural and forced, as if letting your tongue speak without a thought.

    Judge heaved a big sigh before he proceeded. He cleared his mind, circulated his ether towards the rune, and let his mouth do the rest, he could feel his mother''s gaze lifting as if it was being blocked by something unknown. He paid it no mind and began to chant without thought.

    Servants who bind the gods.

    Heed my voice, the call has been made.

    Your master commands your presence

    Rise from the depths of your slumber.

    Obey my words, the time has come

    Judge''s blank thoughts were quickly filled with embarrassment, Did I actually just say that? Who even wrote this script?

    Amidst his embarrassment, and the thought of failure, he saw an illusory crack within his mind, it did not exist in the world, but he could see it by the window, strong and violent ether was seeping out from it.

    Judge watched as two menacing purple eyes appeared behind the crack.

 Chapter 106 - 106: The legend of a spirit who faceplanted through dimensions

    Judge watched the crack, the corners of his vision suddenly turned into a purple hue. Slowly, two menacing purple glows appeared inside the crack that had been carefully created with the ether inside his wand.

    Even though several weeks had passed since the wand catalyst was made, there was only a small amount of ether inside it because, believe it or not, his personal studio could not provide enough ether to recharge any catalyst since there was only enough ether to hold the place still. And putting the wand there was not the best choice.

    Judge watched as two pale hands reached out and grabbed the edge of the crack that seemed to be leading into utter darkness. Slowly, cold air started to seep out along with the ferocious ether that was already getting out.

    Soon, the head, along with the whole body, became visible. The figure looked human, he had hair that was dark but shined blue under the moon''s light, and his eyes were sharp. The whole body was extremely pale and thin, but not thin enough to show any signs of malnutrition.

    Contrary to his chilling entry, he fell flat on his face as soon as he exited the crack and the crack closed. He was trying his hardest to breathe, making Judge, who was filled with excitement and anticipation, rethink his life choices.

    After a while of embarrassing silence, the spirit dusted himself off the ground, stood straight, and cleared his throat before speaking. "You called me, Master?" He curled his right hand into a fist, placed it on his chest, and kneeled in front of Judge.

    Judge looked intensely at the spirit in front of him, the spirit had very little ether that anyone looking could tell that it was just a weak spirit. But weak spirits could not manifest in such detailed physical forms.

    Despite the fact that it could appear in human form, there was also another fact that made Judge think that this was not a low-level spirit that its ether volume shows to be.

    There was something, something sinister hiding behind that mask of a human body, a menacing presence that could make anyone cover in fear.

    "Who are you?" Judge could not hold back the question. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "I am your humble and loyal servant, one of the Seraphim, Solarae."

    That answer was not something he expected out of a spirit with a presence that was menacing. So it was something to do with himself, there was more to him than just being a reborn child. He could feel that they both still had not returned to the material world, otherwise, his mother''s gaze would return.

    "Who am I?" The question was asked taking into consideration the fact that the spirit seems to know something about him that he himself did not know.

    "I do not know."

    "What?!"

    Solarae looked up to see the surprised face of his master, "Master it is not as if my being do not know, but I have sacrificed my memories and most of my power to heed your call."

    Judge quickly regained his composure, "Explain." He said with a calm, but commanding tone.

    "Master, you only provided enough ether for a weak sealer to come through the gate you created, but I had to come since I have the most compatibility with you, so I had to sacrifice my power enough to fit the weak summoning, but loosing too much power would affect my existence, so I had to sacrifice most of my memories too.

    "But I could recall them slowly as time passed, along with my powers. Rest assured master. The only memories I have are some basic knowledge and everything I just mentioned."

    Judge sighed, isn''t this too much? He calls me master, I asked... no, commanded for a servant when I summoned the spirits, even though I do not know why. Did I go to the spirit world before? No, I don''t think so. And what was that thing about the spirits being sealers?

    Ah yes! I called them servants who sealed the gods, what does that even mean? Are they the ones who sealed the gods away from the mortal realm? Melina said something about the dragons making a deal with the gods four thousand years ago in the... umm... Aetus Custodias? Custodis?

    He sighed, there were more questions than answers, and even if he found answers to most of these questions, he knew for a fact that t he would only end up with more questions.

    He sighed again, but this time, with a new purpose in mind. "Can you change forms?" He asked Solarae.

    "Yes!"

    "Good, change into a lower leveled sealer, and they are called spirits nowadays. And try your hardest to remember your memories. Your first job would be to keep an eye out for anyone who comes near my room when I am in my bed."

    "Yes, master."

    Judge nodded, and Solarae rose from his kneeling position. Just as he did, Judge could feel the gaze of his mother on him again, but she did not knock on his door. Instead, she retracted her gaze and went away.

    As expected, she was here only to ensure my safety. He could not help but smile.

    With everything in place, and a low level spirit watching over him, Judge felt confident to head out. But he could do that tomorrow, today, he had to finish the recordings given by Lucifer and Gabriel.

    He changed into his pajamas and headed for the bed, immediately soul-traveling into the studio since he still hadn''t managed to order a mannequin that was as hard as a dragon. In order to act as a clone.

    After being seated on the grand throne with a high backrest inside the grand but enclosed throne room. He started to take a look at the recording he had put on hold, starting with Lucifer''s records.

    Just as he was about to start, he noticed something. The order in which Lucifer provided his recordings was not chronological like how everyone, including him, usually provided. There was just one scene that he had placed at first, it must be important, Judge thought as he watched the scene.

    It was of an assassin taking up a commission to kill his sister.

 Chapter 107 - 107: Mission impossible: sleeping past sunrise

    The place was dimly lit, barely enough to see. None of the faces present were clear and they all wore masks.

    There was a notice board placed on the wall that could be seen from anywhere inside the dark tavern. The board seemed to be lighting by itself, making the contents visible, but there were no posters on the board whatsoever.

    Even though there were not many people present, most gazes were directed at the luminescent board. Some occasionally looked away or at their food or drink.

    Soon, the anticipation rose as a person holding a rolled-up parchment came near the board and plastered the paper on it. Every person who was either occasionally or at all times looking at the board quickly came near it to take a look, but went away as soon as they read the mission description.

    Judge, who was watching the recording carefully, went near the board and curiously took a look. He had an inkling that this was not a piece of good news, and it turned out to be true.

    Assassination request, Judge read in his mind, his eyes widened in surprise as he read the rest. Amber Drakonis, eldest child from the wyvern noble Drakonis house,

    Reward, ten thousand Stens.

    Judge knew that he was supposed to be furious and boiling inside after seeing this, but all that came out was slight anger, nothing intense. For the first time, he felt restrained with a rune sealing his intense emotions.

    He wanted to get furious, but to no avail. He watched the commission being rejected by everyone who laid their eyes on it, finally¡ª a cloaked man with a featureless black mask stood up and came toward the board.

    This guy, unhinged as he looked, took up the poster without even glancing at it and went to the counter, reading it along the way. He slammed it on the wood without any second thoughts, "I take this commission."

    Without saying anything else, he just left the place at a leisurely pace, opening the door and revealing the dark stairs that lead up.

    The scene ended, Judge came back to his senses and just sat there on his throne. What did he just witness?

    Someone wants Amber dead? When was this, yeah I have to warn them! ... but why? didn''t I hate her? Why should I care whether she died or not? Judge sighed, no matter how much he tried to restrain himself, he knew what he was gonna do Whoever posted that request better count their days, and the assassin who thought the Drakonis was an easy target, maybe I should break him before killing.

    Judge''s cheeks made way for his lips as they curled up into a crooked grin, the silent throne room was now filled with a maniac''s laughter.

    To plan his moves better, he decided to check if there was any other information about the assassin. And he just skimmed through all the recordings he received from Lucifer, h saw Finn''s recruitment, and also the lady in a researcher''s garb. But he completely missed the detail about her purple eyes.

    He organized many recordings to be sent to Clio. After many daily and interesting scenes, he finally saw the rest of the footage, he saw the man changing his appearance, and he saw him heading to Wistmere, a city he had never gone to before.

    He saw him carefully plan and prepare everything, scouting the mansion for a whole day, scouting at night using his shadow, laying low for one day, asking the knights for information, and finally, preparing to enter the house and finish the mission.

    The subsequent scenes, he did not get them on the day when they held the gathering, but this was sent to him afterward, Seems Lucifer really wants to show me this huh? Judge thought, half mockingly, half seriously.

    Everything was going as if it was a movie, Judge even had popcorns ready. But just as Assassin prepared for the night, and covered his face with the mask, Judge felt the cold gaze of the purple eyes that appeared on top of the featureless black mask.

    As he watched, the corners of his vision started to turn purple, Purple eyes! Those are the same as mine! And he is using them, how? Maybe I should do more research on that.

    His thoughts were all finished in a fraction of a second under the influence of his enhanced cognition. Judge decided to watch the rest, it was not much, Just the killing of the girl with red hair that Judge instantly knew was not his sister, and his escape.

    But it did not stop there, Lucifer followed him all the way and the scene lasted until he got on a train to Losserado.

    Judge was not happy about the scene being cut off just after he entered the train. He felt as if his favorite movie ended in a cliffhanger. He still had Gabriel''s recording to look through, but he decided to stop since he could feel the extreme headache just around the corner.

    After willing for the recordings he set aside for Clio to be sent to her, he exited his studio and slept away the night. Judge had closed the curtains, but in the morning, Lediya entered his room and spread them apart.

    Golden rays hit Judge''s eyes like those extremely annoying flashbangs he got when playing cs go, it was not a skill issue, it was the teammate''s fault.

    "Young master," Lediya''s calm and soothing voice hit his ears, but instead of making him feel more sleepy, it felt like he would sleep forever if he were to sleep now. "Please wake up, I will soon bring in your breakfast."

    Judge had allowed his maid''s entry in the morning to wake him up, there was only one reason behind that, if he overslept, his mother made sure he slept until noon. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He slowly got up, put on his comfy slippers, adjusted his pajamas, and headed for the bathroom.

    After seeing her master getting up, Lediya silently left his room to bring him his breakfast, passing the knights who were definitely bored out of their minds, they were playing cards on a nearby table.

    It was not disrespect, because among dragons meant not doing the task your superior gave his subordinates. Their task was only to defend Judge and look after him, and if anything happened they would step in without question.

 Chapter 108 - 108: The Art of Hitting the Ground Gracefully

    Judge finished the sumptuous meal of worrak steak that had a different flavor than normal because Lediya changed up the ingredients. The taste, however, did not disappoint him, it was extremely good, of course, worrak was hard to make a bad dish out of.

    After the meal, it was almost time for his sword lessons. He sighed, he did not want to be knocked down today too, but there was no other choice. If he were to use enhanced cognition to get out of being knocked out, his instructor would definitely find out, he was not a stupid dragon.

    As he was lost in thought, he heard a knock on the door.

    "Come in," he sighed, going near the unlit fireplace, again... why do dragons need one anyway? As he grasped his sword, he pondered, as he often did, the sheer absurdity of a fireplace in a dragon''s room. Did it hold symbolic warmth?

    Sword instructor Dosav came in and was pleased to see Judge readily taking his sword from on top of the unlit fireplace. Why do dragons need a fireplace anyway? He thought, it was a thought that had crossed him every time he went into any room inside the palace.

    Judge sighed and stood silently in front of his sword instructor, having no choice but to accept his fate. If I survive this session, I''ll need a new spine. And maybe a new will to live. He thought to himself before getting teleported.

    And the inevitable snap and teleport happened, but this time, they were back in the usual training ground instead of the underground one with all the walls enclosed and reinforced.

    The breath of fresh air seemed to fill Judge with vitality, he felt like he was going to make it without even a scratch. Today was his day, and after this lesson was over, he was going to spend time lying on the grass and enjoying the sun. He lifted up his sword and attempted to block as instructor Dosav came in with a forward blow.

    The next moment he knew, he was knocked out and had just opened his eyes. He was lying on a patch of grass under the sunlight.

    Hey, at least I got what I wanted! He gave himself a self-deprecating laugh.

    After realizing Judge had come to his senses, Dosav came to him and tapped his head lightly with the tip of the sheathed sword. "Get up Judge, we are nowhere near being done with today''s lesson. And make sure your mind is clear of any interferences, taking that blow without blocking yourself clearly shows that your mind is elsewhere. If it continues, I will be forced to increase the difficulty of the lesson."

    Increase? Difficulty? Judge quickly got on his feet and cleared his mind of any unnecessary thoughts. Normal kids may not know how much harder can a sword lesson get, but Judge had experience learning under Seraphis.

    "Yes, that is a nice stance." Dosav smiled, but in a good and reassuring way. Judge was starting to get trauma from a smile, but he could feel the gentle sensation of an honest smile behind instructor Dosav.

    Judge stood sideways, he extended his sword forward with his right hand, and his left hand was held back for balance.

    The gentle smile on Dosav''s face was quickly erased as he got ready to strike, Judge got ready too, no more distractions. He sighed and took a deep breath.

    With a quick series of steps, Dosav''s sword came down with a surprising speed. But Judge was prepared, he sidestepped, avoiding the heavy blow as it crashed into the ground, creating a loud noise. But there was no visible damage on the training floor. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But the sword was not the only thing he had to look after¡ª with the support of his previous momentum and the sword''s forward force, Dosav lifted his leg to strike Judge''s head. Judge had just a small time to react, he raised his arms to block the blow.

    Air-splitting noises could be heard as Judge''s arms absorbed the shock from his instructor''s kick.

    Dosav twisted his body to jump over Judge and kick from the other side with his now free leg with the momentum he just made. But Judge had enough time to predict the next move, he quickly ducked and rolled back, getting up on his feet quickly once he got back.

    Dosav lifted his sword again, he swung the sword in a wide arc toward Judge''s chest, who turned his sword to show the flat side towards Dosav''s sword and, with the help of his off hand at the base, redirected the blow upward.

    With the instructor''s sword in the air, he saw a small chance to land a blow. Confidence started to surge in him as he risked a quick forward swing to his instructor''s abdomen.

    In a split second, Dosav backstepped the swing and slipped his own blade toward Judge''s torso, forcing him back. Judge scrambled, barely keeping his stance as he narrowly avoided another blow. Dosav, quick as ever, closed the distance, his strikes coming faster, sharper, and relentless in their precision. Judge struggled to keep up, his mind racing to track each angle, each faint movement that betrayed Dosav''s next strike.

    Judge barely blocked an upward swing, but his arms felt leaden from the force of the blow. Dosav didn''t let up; he pressed his advantage, raining down a series of rapid, calculated strikes. Judge''s defenses began to falter, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

    Just as he was about to yield, Dosav''s blade stopped an inch from Judge''s throat. Judge''s eyes widened as he realized how close he''d been to another knockdown.

    "You''ve improved Judge, extremely so. Color me impressed!" Dosav complimented Judge as he put the sword back onto his belt.

    "Your words are undeserving instructor, it''s all thanks to your teaching," Judge said in a playful tone, as if he was forced to say it rather than being honest.

    Instructor Dosav laughed at his witty remark, he did not get angry over how Judge said it. That was his persona in this household.

 Chapter 109 - 109: The journey to the west... or east, I dunno just teleport.

    Melina and Judge sat inside the library, she was teaching Judge there because his house arrest had been lifted. She sat across the table from Judge, the table was rectangular and long. But they were both sitting across the long ends, so there was not much of a distance.

    Judge was fully immersed in the book of creating principles, it mentioned the traits of ether and how it can be used to create one''s own principle. After he had grasped the concept to a small extent, they would move on to the next class which was making one''s own principles.

    Creating a principle from scratch was a dangerous job, especially for children, but dragons never cared for their children as they cared for "privacy".

    He was getting used to the nature of his species which was to ''provide safety, but let them do if they think they can''. While he liked the idea, he realized how dangerous it was if the person responsible for safety could not protect the child in time.

    Judge was fully immersed himself in the book, Melina was also reading another book which was brown and had a cover that was rather plain and had no letters. She occasionally looked up at him to see how he was doing, or if he was up to anything mischievous. Otherwise, both were silent and nose-deep inside the book they were reading.

    Judge sighed inward, Melina''s look was definitely to give him a message, a message he knew that only she would give¡ª "You better not try anything funny."

    He sighed again, this message was not new to him. After all, he was the infamous troublemaker in the house. But it makes one wonder how a child cooped up in his room be a troublemaker¡ª needless to say this was an image of himself that Judge created intentionally.

    His reason was simple¡ª if a knowledge-addicted bookworm was to sneak out of his room, it would not end with a mere house... no, room arrest.

    They would go through his research papers one by one to find out what compelled him to go out. Of course, dragons valued privacy, but there were other actions to be taken when it came to anything suspicious, but it would most probably be only his mother going through them.

    Surprisingly, they would not find anything inside the papers, so she would go through his diary. That was something he needed to avoid at all costs, while she may not be able to read English, that would raise even more questions and there would be much attention focused on him.

    Judge sighed, Maybe I am overthinking this, I mean it''s crazy to think about how a personality could make the situations very dire. But it is better safe to be sorry, and prevention is better than the cure, though I wonder if there is a cure for that situation.

    "Judge!" someone called out from the distance, it was coming from the way towards the entrance of the library. Judge recognized the voice, it was his mother.

    "What, Mom?" He tore away from the book, it still had not reached the practical aspects, he was still reading about the history of how ethercraft principles came to be. It was not the best use of his time, but he unfortunately started to enjoy it as a story,

    The author has a great knack for storytelling. Maybe they should have taken up novels instead of writing research papers for the doctorate, does doctorates even exist in this world? He thought. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge looked over to behind the shelves, and his mother came into view. She seemed to be happy and actually had some good news.

    "Judge, I got a good news for you." She beamed, rays of light seemingly coming from behind her like she was an angel (this part was actually only in Judge''s imagination). "You can now head out of the house like Liam, but going outside the city requires you to take some things.

    She took out her purse, "Firstly, take this protection rune." She held out a piece of paper that was black with many golden stars on it and a rune for protection in the middle. The rune was of a circle with a vertical line touching one end and a small horizontal line from the other end.

    "Secondly" She took out a ring that was inlaid with a dark gemstone, "This is a catalyst that has enough ether to teleport you at least once even from a really far distance, use it only when necessary, and only to return home."

    Judge took both of the items she gave, he looked at the ring, his mother did not specify if it was reusable or not. She would not, because there was no way she would keep a non-reusable catalyst with her. He knew his mother very well.

    "Lastly," Eleyn was not done, she took out a mail and a seal with another dark catalyst inlaid at its tip. "This letter can send me any messages if you use the seal after writing and putting the paper in."

    Judge put the ring on his finger, and the thick card inside his long dandy coat. He then accepted the seal and the letter, also putting them inside his royal blue coat.

    After getting everything, he got too excited and hugged his mother tightly. He could finally do whatever he wanted, he was free.

    His mother hugged him back tightly and said in a monotonous tone "Remember what I said before Judge, there are many powerful beings that you cannot defeat, so don''t be stubborn and come back if you encounter a ferocious foe, the ring is enchanted to teleport automatically if it detects any barrier starting to form around you... including an anti-teleportation barrier."

    Judge gave her an understanding nod, Melina sat by the desk and continued her reading as she did not just witness a mother just sending her four-year-old child out into the wild. She had already used to this, in her eyes, Dragons were a bunch of lunatics who did not care if their child killed a person from another species.

    Eleyn and Judge both finished their hugs and Judge started to move the head to the door happily. "Judge!" His mother called out, "Remember to not teleport out of the land of dragons."

    To answer this instruction, which Judge knew that he would break without any second thought, he just put up a thumbs down and said nothing, he knew his mother would just figure out the wrong things on her own.

    I think it means that he would not head out, that''s a relief. Eleyn thought to herself and sat beside Melina.

 Chapter 110 - 110: A Clocktower Pose a Day Keeps Dignity at bay

    Judge was sitting on top of a clock tower, he did not know why he was doing that, but maybe he just wanted to get a badass frame of himself and record it to send it to Clio. He did just that and turned to other important matters.

    "Yeah, nothing says ''intimidating'' like a guy sitting on a clock tower, coat flapping in the wind like a drama magnet," he thought. "This''ll definitely make Clio roll her eyes so hard she''ll see the back of her skull." S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He checked his pockets to make sure he had taken enough money from his allowance. It was not much, but he had taken a big stack of notes of many denominations, there were notes of both ten sten and fifty sten.

    He glanced down at the massive stack of notes in his pocket and thought, "Perfect. Now I can either buy a loaf of bread or bribe half the city to start a revolution. Why did I even grab so much?"

    Altogether, he had about five hundred sten, with even more inside the studio. He could still change his form when he was inside his studio. So his form was of a lean man with cold silver eyes that had golden streaks coming out from the pupil.

    His current attire was a black tailcoat, but it was more like a duster coat if anything, but neater. He wore a navy waistcoat and a high-collared white shirt. His golden pocket watch was inside the pocket of his trousers.

    This dress was something he had sneaked into the studio when he had ordered several coats for his present to his father on his birthday, he made more orders with the same size and paid for it with his allowance money that nobody seemed to keep tabs on.

    The young man who looked like he was in his twenties was inside the city of Limdom, while he had come here many times previously, he was not familiar with the place or where to get the goods he needed.

    And what better place other than a bar to get information, but he would be too conspicuous. His best choice would have been to go into a club, but he had no one to be recommended and accepted.

    In the area he currently was in, there was only one known club, at least the only known one to him. It was the silver casket, in order to get inside, one had to be recommended by one member, need another member as a backer, and be accepted with a majority vote in an assembly of at least thirty members.

    Judge sighed, while he could get inside using his abilities as a recorder, he still needed a badge on his chest at all times inside the club, which was tiring to think about having to steal the badge on top of getting in just to get more familiar with the town, he had a better place for it, and all he needed was to ditch the expensive attire.

    After some pondering, he decided to head to a shop that sold mercenary equipment, including clothes made out of materials suited for combat. He jumped down and landed perfectly with grace.

    He started his pace toward the store he had scanned from the top of the tower. After several minutes, he stopped in front of a sign that Just said "Mercenary equipment".

    Judge scoffed silently at the sign. Clearly, they have no sense of naming. Don''t they know that names can play a big role in marketing? who runs this shop?

    Without standing around too much, he got inside, and the whole place went silent as all the eyes started to focus on him, and not in a welcoming way. Ahh! It''s because I am wearing expensive attire that mostly looks noble. Not exactly welcome here huh?

    Ignoring the gazes Judge made his way towards the counter, swinging his cane along the way.

    "I need a few sets of clothes for my friend who is about the same size as me." He said to the employee before him as soon as he got to the counter, "I don''t mind the cost, but make it less attention grabbing."

    Yeah, totally for someone else. Not that he had any friends his size. Or any friends, period, who wanted mercenary gear.

    "Y-yes sir!" The flustered man suddenly answered his request, he looked rather rattled and discombobulated. Judge sighed, the worker can''t be blamed for the behavior.

    Judge''s current attire was extremely attention grabbing, he could only make higher quality clothes if they were in disguise for his father''s birthday. After all, why would you gift a cheap cloth to your own father when you have enough money?

    The expensive attire would only be worn by either the aristocrats or the rich. And what was a rich man doing in a mercenary goods shop if he was not a merc himself? and rich mercenaries were all very powerful.

    The man with black hair and brown eyes led him to a place full of clothes, mostly enchanted. There was one row on each side with clothes that were not enchanted, rest were all clothes made for real battle instead for rookie mercenaries who just started their venture and did not have enough money.

    "All the clothes here are suited for defense," the man explained, he wore a grey vest, a white shirt, and a sleeves suit over it. That seemed to be the uniforms since there were three other employees beside him and they were all wearing the same.

    "What is your name?" Judge asked in a cold tone, he wanted to ease the tension of the guide and make things easier for both parties, but he did not want the man to be any less scared of him.

    "It''s Gregory Hales Sir, may I have the honor of knowing your name?" He answered nervously and clasped his hands together.

    The cold, silver eyes with golden streaks turned to look at Hales, seeming to read his entire self from top to bottom. Did I make a mistake? Am I going to die? His mind was filled with fear.

    "Dorian Caine," he said, holding back a laugh. If only Clio could see him now, the drama king in full regalia. He imagined her rolling her eyes, muttering, "Oh, brother, really?" Yes, really, Clio.

    "Show me the best." He went to the male side of clothes, inspecting thick fabric like he knew what it was.

 Chapter 111 - 111: High Fashion or Hired Assassin?

    "Thank you for your patronage!" The cashier''s voice was about as steady as a wobbly chair, his forced smile doing a poor job of masking the terror in his eyes. Judge''s mere presence seemed to squeeze all confidence out of the room, leaving everyone as stiff as mannequins and just as quiet.

    It was not just the fact that everyone thinking that he was a high ranking adventurer, but there was something in him that made them afraid of him. They all swallowed their saliva and watched him exit through the door.

    "Who was that?"

    "I don''t know, never seen him. He said his name was Dorian Caine right? I''ve never heard of that name either, maybe he just moved here to Limdon?"

    Chattering started to erupt as soon as Judge left the place, Judge wanted to build a new identity for himself in the world outside of the land of the dragons. While this was not currently necessary he knew this could help him out in the future.

    His next step was to head inside the mercenary guild and register himself as an adventurer and raise his ranks to become a renowned mercenary. But two things stopped him from raising his rank right after registering.

    One thing was his mother''s warning, no matter how powerful he thinks he is there will always be someone stronger. He might be a dragon with lots of ether and a strong presence, or Will, but he definitely was not strong.

    Second was his thirst to kill the two fugitives who tried to kill his sister, again¡ª This is not revenge, but an act to satisfy myself by killing some''thing'' who dares to belittle my family! He assured himself.

    Judge teleported to the studio, and with a snap of his fingers, traded his sophisticated attire for his new "mercenary" look. The heavy black sweater hugged his neck and wrists, which was fine, but he couldn''t shake the feeling that he looked more like he was about to write dark poetry than fight mythical beasts.

    The thick clothes were also black, there was a sweater that covered his whole upper body, including his neck and wrist, but excluding the parts after the wrist. there was also a dark pant and a dark mask that was connected to another sleeveless black overcoat with a hoodie. Finally, there was a combat gove (Black of course) to finish off the look.

    Now, Judge looked like a young man who tried too hard to be a mercenary but ended up being an assassin instead.

    "Yep," he thought to himself, "this is exactly how I imagine a menacing mercenary looks. Just¡­ with a little less eyeliner."

    He pulled down his mask and the hoodie and exited the studio.

    Judge made his way through the bustling street, making his way toward a studio (Not his) to get his photo, after all, he could not become a mercenary without proper identifications. And to create fake identities, he needed pictures for himself. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Ironically, being a cameraman, he still needed a less professional cameraman to take his photo.

    Standing in front of the studio (Which was not his), he swallowed his pride and went inside the place to get a photo for himself. But there was another problem, he did not have lesser denominated notes than ten stens, and this would only cost him about five nens.

    But he could not turn back now, he had already entered the shop.

    "Good evening." A sweet voice came from inside, it was a lady. She had ordinary features, but was cute, her blonde hair was braided neatly and rested on her shoulder. "Her to take picture? Or renting equipment?"

    "Take a picture," He answered without any emotions, but the girl was immediately frightened.

    "R-right away s-sir" She managed to muster a smile and led him through a curtain where many other customers were waiting for their turns. "Please wait here sir, we will call you when it is your turn. May I know your name?"

    "Dorian Caine"

    "Dorian Caine," She repeated to herself and tried to walk away briskly, but Judge turned to her.

    "I will give you ten stens if you can quickly finish the job," he said in a low voice, making sure nobody else heard it. The term "Ten Stens" was enough for him to get her attention.

    The woman''s eyes widened as he handed over the note, and Judge could practically see the girl''s mental math as she realized she was holding more than three weeks worth of her salary.

    "T-Ten stens?" she blurted out, looking around the room as if someone might be filming her. The customers nearby perked up instantly, turning their attention toward him with dollar signs practically sparkling in their eyes.

    The woman immediately clasped her mouth, knowing what she had done. "Yes Sir!" She bowed and hurried off.

    The uncomfortable gazes grew more uncomfortable by the second, now the feeling that stood out the most was doubt. And in order to clarify, he looked at the people present and let out a small portion of his will, turning all of the previous feelings into fear.

    The woman soon came back with a middle-aged man wearing a monocle and a top hat. The man immediately led Judge to a room that was far more decorated than the previous one.

    "Sir, this is a VIP room, made for rich people who need the job to be done quickly, please take a seat and I will ensure the picture reaches you quickly." His voice was not deep, but it had a rough edge.

    Judge looked at the "VIP room," looking around at the gilded decor and the bright red velvet curtains, all while the photographer fussed with angles and lighting. It felt like an opera house, not a photography studio.

    "A bit grand, don''t you think?" Judge murmured.

    The photographer adjusted his monocle with style. "Not at all, sir! Only the finest for our finest clients."

    Without another word, Judge sat on the ornate and extremely comfortable stool. There was a red curtain in the background. The cameraman (Not Judge, but the middle-aged one) gave him instructions on his posture and took a few pictures.

 Chapter 112 - 112: Why Yes, Iâ€™m Here to Commit Fraud â€“ Thank You for Asking

    The photographer showed Judge all the printed photos, who chose the one he thought was the best. The man then put the photo inside an ether-powered color printer and made multiple copies. All of this would only go as far as one or one and a half sten, but Judge paid ten stens since he did not have much change.

    He had spent a total of thirty stens on clothing with a two sten and four sen being a tip.

    Collecting the envelope containing his photos, Judge quickly made his way past the door and into the street.

    He walked out into the street, his mind already on his next step, when he caught four gazes on him. Ah, he thought, how refreshing, some people who haven''t yet learned to mind their own business. He let out an exasperated sigh. He really wasn''t in the mood to entertain them, but then again, a little alleyway confrontation might be just what he needed to "kill" some time.

    Having enough time until night to do his next task of forging a fake identity, he decided to beat up someone. Yeah, not the best solution, but they asked for it. He put on his hoodie and turned into an alley, inviting the four men in poor dress into the alley with him.

    Judge put on his mask and turned invisible right after he had turned around a corner, but he made sure they had seen him.

    The men who followed him did not wait around as they went after him, only to find the place empty. Fear enshrouded them as they realized what they had done. They went after a man in suspicious clothing after being blinded by money.

    The man in dark clothes appeared behind them, and without giving them any time to react, he conjured a stick from the ground and started to beat them mercilessly. They were just tramps, but he did not care.

    Amidst the beating Jude realized one thing, there was something connecting the four men and an outside force. It was ether, and it made Judge connect all the dots.

    Firstly, the tramps were not inside the shop to begin with, and there was no way that they knew he was rich just based on his clothes. So someone told them, but it seems that it was not ''telling'', but mind controlling.

    Mind controlling, as Judge knew, was an extremely hard principle to grasp. I wonder how the person behind this did it.

    Judge activated the recording once more and followed the ether to its source, but the flow had been cut off and the instigator had escaped. He was trying to know if I had even a bit of strength before robbing me! How careful, maybe I will give this person what it likes to be robbed of something precious, maybe something like... life.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was nighttime, after finding his way through the dark alleyways, Judge stopped after making sure no one was watching him.

    He put on his mask and became invisible by hitting record. In this state, he was invincible and the fastest being in all of existence, but he still was only grasping the basics and definitely was not the fastest... yet.

    The moon was painting the unlit places with a blue tint. He could now head into the government Municipal office building and go for the Department of Civil Affairs to create a fake identification document.

    He had already put a few necessary things inside the studio, an aged paper, a pen, and a few runes of quietude. Those runes let him make an enclosed space of complete silence, no sound would escape or be created. The only downside was that no sound could get in either, making it hard to notice if someone was coming, but he had a spirit.

    Runes, as he had heard from his grandfather, were only known to the Dragons. To other races, while they knew a few, and only a few, they couldn''t use it, so defense against runes was not found outside the land of dragons.

    In his cameraman state, Judge made his way inside the municipal hall and toward the Department of Civil Affairs. He had ordered Lucifer to observe this place beforehand in order to understand how things go here and where things were kept.

    There were only a few night security guards, after all, this was not a bank and did not need that much protection. But this was a place where important documents of both the government and the people were kept, so security was still necessary to an extent. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge made his way past all of them unnoticed and got inside the office, after scanning the area, he made his way toward the Civil Affairs Department according to his memory.

    Not having fully grasped the cameraman''s state yet, he could only do stuff like phase through thin walls or doors, and also be invisible as well as invincible, that too to a certain extent. He did not know up to what extent his invincibility could hold, but he knew better than to try.

    The hallways were long and wide with many rooms and signs on each side. Finally, he saw a sign that read "Department of Civil Affairs". He sighed and made his way to the left hal. After just a few strides, he entered a large hall, this was where the identification documents like birth certificates and citizenship documents were created and kept.

    Judge took out the things he needed after heading inside the studio and started his mission. He first summoned Seraphis, who appeared like a small, low-level spirit. But he had many skills of a high-level spirit, though less effective. One was thought transmission, this would ensure Judge could go invisible if any security comes this way.

    He took out the paper and went near a table, the sign on the table read "Citizenship application". A small smile crept up on his face behind his mask, people had to wait for days if not weeks for their children to get a citizenship certificate, it was necessary for many things.

    Many things like opening a bank and getting into the mercenary guild needed official documents to prove your identity, and they also needed your photo. This was a big reason why there were many customers at the photo studio.

    Judge sighed and took out a thick card with an inscribed rune quietude, it was a simple inscription with a diagonal square inside a circle. He placed it on the ground and said slowly, "Silence!"

 Chapter 113 - 113: Do try this at home... or government offices

    The eerie silence of the night was undisturbed, but the sound barrier gave Judge additional security against.. the security... guards, how ironic.

    He slowly proceeded to take his pen and an application paper, filling it was the first step. There were three types of application forms, one was basic, which most use and cost only two nen. The other two were for people who needed it quickly, one was for people who paid a premium for the quick which would come around seven sen. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The third was the fastest, the office term for it was quick paper, it would only take a few hours and at most a day. But the premium was exorbitantly high, it was three sten. Only the aristocrats and the other equally rich families used it.

    After writing the details, he then proceeded to paste his picture on the required column. The next step was the typewriter, printing out all of his details into the old paper he had long prepared for this moment.

    He took the paper from the typewriter and double checked the details. After making sure everything was as he wanted, he put the premium application paper along with the old paper in the small stack of premium papers on the table.

    He had filled out the application form as a re-apply, which many give when they lose their existing document and was not rare, but there should be a document within the department. Judge just forged a fake document to put it within the department, and with the re-apply request, he could create another copy for himself without any issues.

    The reason he did not take quick papers was because they were rare and never passed a night, they would be finished quickly and would be finished before the officer went home. So his request would stand out and receive unwanted attention as well as suspicion

    He had not filled out any address so he had to come and collect it himself, and he would come back here to the office tomorrow. With all of that done, Jude canceled the effects of the rune of quietude and called back his spirit.

    Finally, Judge canceled the effects of his rune of quietude, and in the dead of night, he sauntered out like an invisible ghost. He grinned, thinking, "Best disguise in the world: being completely unseen. Who''d have guessed?"

    As for lodging, Judge had to forgo even the seediest inn. Apparently, identification was required for everything these days, even a brothel''s most humble room. With a sigh, he retreated to his personal studio¡ª a blessed realm of peace and privacy¡ª and got some sleep. The city could wait until tomorrow. Eating could, too; he wasn''t about to tackle a meal with two empty hands that had no lower denominations of notes.

    Is this what it is like to suffer from success? I have more wealth than these peasants could handle. His thoughts wandered.

    Eating was moved to the afternoon because he did not feel like eating anything before he had gotten the identification documents and opened a bank account.

    The bustling city was living up to its name as one of the most densely populated cities. Judge made his way through the city landscapes, recording the place as well as people''s lives.

    The long walk Judge ended in an alleyway without any people... again, Another trip to the alleyway, Great! I feel like more of a connoisseur of the urban backstreet instead of a mercenary or a divine existence about to take over the world. But at least this place is a lot cleaner, that''s a big upside. Sigh!

    Judge summoned his pocket watch from the studio to take a look at it, the time was about eleven, and the municipality starts at nine, two hours should be plenty for his application to be completed.

    He put the pocket watch away. Due to the nature of the work of the mercenaries, they usually used a combat oriented watch specially designed to be as hard and unbreakable as possible, and Judge had forgotten to buy one. The salesman or woman would have suggested the watch part to him, but being too intimidating did not help. Maybe I should have gone for a more easygoing, fun personality. Sigh! You cannot change what you''ve chosen.

    On his way, across the street, Judge saw a signboard on a restaurant¡ª "Fine worrak steak, one sten five sen only." He swallowed his saliva, and his stomach let out a traitorous grumble. After the bank matter is settled, that restaurant is my first stop, you''re next, my delicious friend. he made a mental note and sighed.

    Soon, he found himself before the ''not so towering, yet huge'' building of the municipality. His gaze shifted to the people waiting outside as he let out an exasperated sigh, How much time is this gonna take?

    A worker in a security uniform appeared near him. The uniform consisted of a long coat with a mix of deep blue and charcoal black with strips of burgundy separating them. "Name and purpose." He said with no emotions like he had done this countless times before (Grave plot twist, he had indeed done this countless times before).

    "Dorian Caine," Judge replied, also without much emotion. "I''ve re-applied for new citizenship documents," he had answered coldly in order to keep up with his new identity.

    The guard worker sized him a few times before writing something in the hardcover book he was holding. "Wait here." He quickly headed to the worker who was busily scribbling something down in a book, he sat on a table that was put under a stone shed.

    The guard told him something and the man nodded, taking out a pile of big brown envelopes that were sealed. He skimmed through them and took one out from the middle, double-checking it and writing something down before giving it to the guard.

    The guard took the big envelope and headed back towards Judge, giving him the envelope and a clearly forced smile.

    Judge gave him a respectful nod, trying not to laugh. It was clear as day¡ª this man despised his job. But of course, who was Judge to judge?

 Chapter 114 - 114: Maybe You Cant Buy Happiness, But You Can Buy Lunch

    Judge walked through the grand halls of the backwater bank''s Limdon branch. The decorations were all mostly wood, the floor was made with black and white checkered tiles and red carpets on the paths.

    Many crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, Judge counted five, but there was definitely more. Without standing around and marveling at its beauty as many people did, Judge checked the coupon he received and waited for a bank teller to call his number.

    Soon, the first call for coupon "B35" was made, and he swiftly made his way toward the free bank teller.

    "Good morning Sir, how may I be of service to you?" The teller was not intimidated by his presence, this was because there was some basic combat prowess required for bank employees due to places like the bank being a criminal magnet. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Good day to you too mister, I require assistance in opening a new bank account" Judge answered, his deep voice adding to the authoritative presence.

    "Documents," The teller seemed pleased with his behavior, this was because of his tone which indirectly conveyed the fact that he knew how things worked around here. This was a relief from the usual customers whom he needed to hold their hands through every procedure.

    Judge understood what he meant, he reached for his leather purse. The leather was made from the hide of a monster called Vargash, a giant boar with skin as hard as iron and highly sought after due to the high market price for most of its parts, especially the hide, which was as tough as its high price.

    He quickly opened it, pulled out the fresh Eldris Citizen identity card, and handed it over to the worker.

    The teller looked through the card''s details and promptly slid it into a ''large but not ridiculously large'' cardholder with only one lonely place for a single card, as if it were designed for the most important card in the world¡ª one so exclusive that it took a mansion to live in¡ª you know, like one of those pointless luxury items where the designers ran out of ideas and just made everything unnecessarily huge, as if the size of the box somehow adds to the value.

    Both of them waited silently for the process to be completed after closing the lid. It did not take long as the lid opened with a click and a ~ding~ sound. Judge heaved a sigh of relief as if it somehow relieved him of his boredom, the teller did not waste much time as he quickly pulled out a paper and put it on the typewriter, filling in the details.

    click click click

    The silence ensued with only the sound of printing letters ringing in Judge''s ears. There were countless noises as it was a public place, but his only focus was the typewriter and the paper it was printing on.

    Soon, the sound of typing was finished as the teller took the paper and put it inside another box, but this time, the box time was over quickly. The next step was to register Judge''s ether, and that was as quick as injecting a tiny bit of his ether into the ether frequency recorder.

    "Deposit," The bank teller said in a demanding yet polite tone, it was as if asking Judge to figure out the rest. But he did not complain as he knew there was not an ounce of disrespect in his voice if anything at all, he was seen as a better literate person than most of the customers by this worker.

    Judge pulled out three hundred sten notes, two fifty sten notes, and ten of ten sten notes. (I actually wanted to say "Ten ten sten notes", but that''s hella confusing) After purposefully counting it in front of the teller and acting a little careless, he had successfully built the image of being a rich person with too much money to spare.

    The teller took his money without so much care and wrote a receipt for five hundred stens and handed it over to Dorian Caine, who tipped his hoodie (Because of course, he did not have a top hat) and left quietly after taking back his identity card.

    Right after leaving, Judge went back inside and went to the counter that said "Withdrawals / Deposits". He went behind the queue behind the seven counters.

    A substantial amount of time had passed since taking out money was not as quick as back when he was on earth and had technological backing. Soon, he found himself in front of the wall that had a card slot, a number pad, a slot for the money to be withdrawn, a space to deposit money, and a stone for recognizing the ether of the owner.

    One could also use a catalyst containing ether and their card to withdraw money from banks. But it was still safe since the owner had to willingly provide their ether for the catalyst if anyone needed to make money.

    Judge placed the card in the respective slot, injected a minute amount of ether into the stone, and typed in the amount of money he needed.

    Money soon came out of the long, rectangular slot and Judge took his card and the money back. The money he now had totaled fifty sten, all in change. He now had enough money to do whatever he wanted without worrying about the change.

    But a sudden thought struck him, this was a pretty populated area, so most businesses wouldn''t have any difficulties in providing him with changes for ten sten, even though most products or services did not cost that much, they still make that much in a single day.

    He sighed, the weighty realization that he had endured an hour-long ordeal for the smallest denomination possible, struck him like that volume on how to understand women. After all that, he could have saved himself the trouble and just gone straight to lunch.

    He sighed again and went to eat his favorite food after a long day of starving.

 Chapter 115 - 115: Clowning Around in the Dark

    Judge leaned back in his seat, fingers lightly drumming on the edge of the table as he took in the noisy ambiance around him. The tavern wasn''t particularly fancy, but it had the rustic charm that brought in the sort of crowd that barely noticed an oddball like him. And considering his attire of mercenary garb, he felt just eccentric enough to fit right in¡ª though perhaps "eccentric" was a bit of an understatement.

    He observed the locals, straining his ears to catch any useful chatter while appearing to casually wait for his meal. The snippets of conversation that floated by were woefully dull, revolving around crop yields, whose goat had wandered off, and someone''s alarming discovery of what a "modern bath" was supposed to be like. Fascinating stuff, really. Judge rolled his eyes beneath his mask that he had put on after exiting the bank. Mercenaries having masks was nothing new. He was wondering if these folks ever spoke of anything remotely intriguing.

    Finally, his steak¡ª a hefty slab of worrak meat¡ª arrived, steaming on a pristine white serving platter alongside an assortment of colorful, finely sliced vegetables. The presentation was so unexpectedly polished that Judge had to pause, admiring it like a fine work of art and wondering if he had accidentally went into a fancy restaurant. "Ten out of ten on the presentation," he murmured, giving the food a mockingly appreciative nod.

    But as he went to pick up his fork, he realized something¡ª wearing a mask might save him some face, but when it came to food, masks were kinda ''in the way''. He sighed and removed the white smiley face while giving himself a deprecating laugh, Did I really climb up to be a top businessman? Or were the people just dumb?

    Judge slowly ate the tasty treat, savoring every bite, it was that delicious.

    They did the worrak meat justice! He vowed to give them a huge tip after he finished the meal. After he had eaten a huge chunk of the meat, he hesitantly started to eat the neatly cut vegetable pieces, but decided not after a few bites. They were flavourful, not was not his cup of tea. (Well duh! They are veggies, not tea)

    He left the restaurant after paying the bill plus one sen tip. The food only cost him two sen, so he left half the food''s price just as a tip, Wow, I am rich.

    His studio was his best friend, because even if he could not conjure new things, he could still change the appearance of anything, including himself and other non-living things, but just not the base material. The reason why Judge bought new clothes despite the option to change appearance was because his original attire was made of materials that would attract unwanted attention.

    Today, he decided to change into a terrifying appearance in order to infiltrate the assassin gathering. And what was more creepy than a suited clown who smiles a bit too brightly while torturing you to death... Sweet.

    As night crept in, Judge glided through the alleyways, heading toward a pub without many customers, an old stone structure that housed an assassin''s gathering underground¡ª a secretive den where hired killers lounged, took requests, and dealt in death. He activated the recording and slipped inside undetected.

    Passing through the initial customers who were either clueless and just came in expecting a cheap drink, or someone with enough money to hire a killer. He headed towards the kitchen, and there, without trying hard to cover, was a flight of stairs leading into a dark underground. He sighed and headed down, entering a rather crowded pub that was more silent than the one above.

    Inside, he saw a smattering of the "fine" employees lounging, one carving intricate designs on his dagger, another counting coin, a third muttering ominously about "fate''s twisted sense of humor." Ah, the usual assassin talk¡ª dark, brooding, and ever so repetitive.

    "Evening, friends," Judge greeted in a high, mocking tone, spreading his arms as though giving a speech. The group jolted up, eyes narrowing as they sized up the grinning clown who had unceremoniously entered their sanctum.

    "Who''re you supposed to be, the circus''s lost dupe?" one of them sneered, flexing his fingers over the hilt of a knife.

    "Oh, you wound me," Judge replied, feigning hurt as he theatrically clutched at his chest. "But I''ll be straightforward. Which one of you delightful folk was hired to go after the Drakonis family? It''s not polite, you know, to disrupt a family."

    There was a beat of silence before laughter broke out, the assassins clearly unimpressed by the flamboyant intruder. Judge didn''t mind. In fact, he relished it. Because he''d already spotted his first target, while it was not visible to most people, Judge could somewhat feel the fluctuations in one''s state of mind.

    Now this was not because he was special in any way, this was just one of his genuine attempts he had in order to get stronger. He had tried to create a principle for reading people''s minds or just understanding emotions better. It was not an unexpected outcome when he had failed in doing so. But he had gotten a better hold of the principle and could feel tiny fluctuations in emotions.

    The person he felt the fluctuation from was the worker behind the counter, there were already people coming towards him, itching for a fight.

    Judge''s lips curled up, his mask was already smiling as much as a human could possibly muster. But the smile behind his mask revealed a state of pure thirst for blood, If only I could get a gun! He thought to himself before pleasing himself with blood. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Aaaaaghhh!

    The man closest to the clown screamed, the hand he had put forward had been cut clean. Blood was gushing out and staining the wooden floor.

    Everyone, even the assassins who did not mind the crazy clown sat up alarmingly. Three people dressed in a maroon vest came forward to confront him, and one man tried to help the injured man.

    Suddenly, the man whose hand was cut off, his head too got neatly ''separated'' from his body. This was the principle called "Mark", Judge could mark opponents and cut them however he liked, a principle taught by his grandfather.

    Judge felt happy when he saw the opponents highly on their guard and not attacking despite losing one of their teammates. The assassins were not good at direct combat, and if the workers who were good at combat only amounted to this much, I don''t have to teleport away!

    The bloodied clown mask got ready for his next attack.

 Chapter 116 - 116: The clown of sinister smirk

    Lester stumbled back, eyes wide as the bloodied clown mask tilted ever so slightly in his direction. Around him, the other workers screamed as their hands were severed cleanly, each appendage thudding to the floor in syncopated horror. Judge''s grin behind the mask mirrored the painted, eerie smile on the mask itself, creating a dual expression of joy and malice that chilled Lester to his core.

    A hulking assassin rushed forward with a snarl, daggers flashing as he lunged, only for Judge to pivot gracefully, sidestepping and swinging his arm in a sharp, decisive arc. The assassin''s torso split open, blood spraying across the bar''s stained wooden walls.

    The man choked, falling to his knees before collapsing in a heap, his weapon slipping from his fingers. Another assassin, visibly shaking yet driven by desperate fury, charged Judge from behind with a hidden blade aimed for his spine. Judge laughed¡ª a sound that resonated high and mocking¡ª as he spun around, catching his attacker''s wrist mid-air. With a sickening crack, he twisted it, forcing the man to scream as his bone shattered, splintering through his skin.

    "Is this all the renowned assassins of this establishment can manage?" Judge taunted, his tone chilling, his fingers dancing in a fluid motion as he maneuvered through the swarm of panicked attackers.

    The remaining assassins hesitated, their breaths ragged, eyes darting from one another to the corpse-littered floor. Judge''s mask, spattered with blood, watched them intently, his figure was an eerie stillness amid the chaos. An assassin staggered back, eyes filling with dread as Judge marked him with a single pointed finger. The man tried to flee, but before he could take a second step, his knees buckled, and his legs detached at the thighs, severed cleanly with Judge''s "Mark" principle. He screamed, clawing at the floor, leaving crimson streaks behind him as Judge calmly walked past.

    Desperation filled the air as the assassins regrouped, forming a tight circle around Judge, their weapons drawn in trembling hands. Lester watched them, breathless, heart pounding so loudly he thought it might betray his hiding spot behind a toppled table, he was not a coward, but the death of his friend had shaken his frail mind fortification. The room reeked of blood and sweat, and every glint of light seemed to bounce off Judge''s eerie mask, amplifying the terror radiating from the battered killers.

    Two assassins broke from the circle, thinking they''d flank Judge and catch him unawares. Judge smirked, shifting his stance, his gaze flickering between the two as though weighing his options. With a swift movement, he pointed at one¡ª his Mark¡ª and in a heartbeat, the man''s arm dropped to the ground, blood spurting from the wound. Before his scream could even echo, Judge''s hand shot out, grabbing the other man by the throat, squeezing as the assassin struggled, his eyes bulging in terror.

    "You thought your numbers could make a difference?" Judge sneered, his voice cold and dripping with scorn. "It''s almost endearing."

    With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the assassin''s neck, letting his limp body drop to the floor.

    Lester''s pulse hammered as he watched the remaining assassins finally break, the thin veil of courage ripped away. They scrambled for the stairs, fighting each other in blind panic, their only instinct now to escape. Judge moved with a calm demeanor, marking each one he saw fleeing, and in an instant, their limbs fell or bodies collapsed, lifeless, before they could even reach the first step. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    And then, silence. The bar was filled with bodies, the once bustling hideout now a blood-soaked burial. Only Lester remained, breathing heavily, his back pressed against the wall, hands shaking as he clutched his blood-soaked dagger¡ª his only remaining defense. He looked up as Judge turned toward him, his dark silhouette looming, the painted, sinister grin on his mask more terrifying up close. Lester''s breath hitched as the bloodied clown mask inched closer, Judge''s aura exuding an overwhelming, deathly calm.

    "W-Who¡­ who are you?" Lester stammered, his voice breaking, desperation thick in his tone.

    Judge paused, his gaze cool as ice beneath the smiling mask. He leaned in close, his voice a mere whisper that chilled Lester to his core.

    "I am... The Clown of Sinister Smirk."

    A tremor ran through Lester as the final words sank in, a name that he realized would haunt his last living moments. He let his grip on the dagger go as he realized it would be of no use, but he still had to live, he had a family... something¡ª something that would let him live... suddenly he remembered something.

    "I... I know who commissioned the killing of the young lady of the Drakonis house!"

    Judge paused, "You should have said that sooner, see..." He waved his hand at the dead corpses, "All of them died for the information that you withheld, they died because of you."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber fiddled with a dagger that her father had given her. It had a crimson handle and sheath with a black catalyst embedded at the back. He said that it was for her own safety. It was a powerful artifact with a serious side effect that would render one immobile after prolonged use, so she had to be careful with how she used it.

    Her father had told her about something she and her siblings could have long known but had never been told to, it was a secret in their house in the Wistmere city, the capital of the wyverns, but mostly without wyverns (Children) of course.

    Inside the Wistmere house, there were substitutes for each of the family members who were in the main house. And if they leave the house in the land of the dragons, except for their trip towards the Wistmere house, their substitutes may or may not vanish.

    Now that her substitute had been killed, the next process should have been to create another substitute. But considering their arrival in a few days, that was deemed unnecessary because of the complex process involved in creating a substitute.

 Chapter 117 - 117: Father Knows Best... Except About Books

    "Amber!" Alex entered the bridge deck with all the grace of a wind-blown leaf, startling Amber, who had been fiddling with something in her hand. She looked up to see him hovering in the window like some sort of overzealous bird of prey.

    "Stop fiddling around with that knife and put it away, and make sure nobody... Not even dragons would see them." Alex instructed, his tone a mix of fatherly concern and an overdramatic sigh as if she was a kid playing around with a knife (Which she was).

    Amber nodded in confusion as to why the very same dragon that gave her the knife was so worked up over it being seen by her own species.

    "Not even dragons... Okay?" Alex''s voice dropped like he was explaining the importance of not feeding a wild bear candy.

    Amber now nodded firmly. Alex seemed satisfied with the nod, that was the response he was looking for. Though it was questionable if he was even aware of what he just asked. He did not press on and watched her put the dagger away on a leather strap on her thigh underneath the deep navy skirt, which looked more like she was hiding a small sword than anything else, but hey, safety first.

    "So, how many more days until we reach Wistmere?" Amber tried to break the tension with small talk, clearly not interested in whatever dangerous ''knife-averse dragons'' nonsense her father was spouting.

    "Two days," Alex replied, pulling out his pocket watch like some dramatic old-timey wizard summoning mystical forces. He flipped it open with the flair of someone who''d just discovered timekeeping magic. "In fact, half a day more and you''ll start seeing wyverns flying about."

    "Huh?!" Amber was surprised, as this information was wrong on so many levels based on her understanding of the world. There are no wyverns, right? Even if the wyverns are dragons, Mom and Melina told me that there are scare amount of dragons who go to Wistmere. So how come we will be able to see wyverns flying around?

    As if reading her thoughts, her father smiled and began explaining things to her. "Your mother and Melina were trying to play a little joke on you. They do enjoy that. Don''t ask me for the details though, I don''t understand their humor. And frankly, I don''t care."

    "So there are many dragons who come from our land to the wyvern capital Wistmere?"

    "No, that''s where you are wrong."

    "So what is it then?"

    "You see, there is a very thick barrier separating the land of the dragons, or as if the older dragon called it Terra draconum. I do not know the properties of this barrier, there are records of how it works in the house, but that''s for your Grandfather, Mother, and Melina to read I am too smart to read books."

    "Wait!" Amber interrupted him, "Aren''t books supposed to make you smarter?"

    Alex paused, he answered her after thinking for a moment. "Someone asked me the exact same question before, and do you know what I told them?"

    Amber sighed, clearly in for one of his wisdom speeches. "Tell me, Dad. Enlighten me."

    "I told them that I do not need to read, why should I waste my life buried in books when life is just there to experience, a world to be experienced? I don''t need a book to teach me more than I have to experience myself, I will create a history that others will read."

    Amber blinked, the gears of her brain struggling to turn. "But, Dad, that sounds like a really fancy excuse for not reading a book."

    Alex chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly, "It''s not an excuse, it''s a lifestyle." S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Learn this, Amber," he said, all serious now, though still proudly smirking, "Knowledge comes from what we live, not from dusty old books. Sure, books might say something, but I prefer to live it and tell the tale."

    Amber was about to ask how he''d ever learned to read in the first place, but decided against it. After all, his opinions were often like his favorite ale¡ª bitter, strong, and best taken in small doses.

    "Dad," she finally said, smiling innocently, "When we reach Wistmere, I''ll give you a book. A really good one too. I want you to read it cover to cover, and then you''ll tell me the story."

    Alex''s expression morphed into one of dread. "But¡­ Did you not just hear my entire philosophy about reading? I¡ª"

    Amber smiled sweetly. "Okay?"

    "...hmmm."

    "Dad, do you love me?"

    Alex looked at her, confused, but softened. "Of course, I love you, dear."

    "Then read it. For me. I''m sure you''ll enjoy it."

    "Alright," Alex sighed, resigned. "But remember, I''m doing this for you, not because I''ve had some sudden change of heart about books." He let out a dramatic sigh, as if taking on an insurmountable burden. "Now, about those wyverns... Due to the barrier, going to and fro needs a key as well as the rune of traveling. So, the dragons inside Terra draconum and outside it seldom cross the borders. But you can teleport outside if you have at least one of the countless keys, even without the rune for traveling."

    "Now that there are countless dragons outside the border who do not come in, you know why there are countless wyverns outside the land of dragons."

    "So they never transform into true dragons?"

    "There are people who have never transformed into their racial forms in their entire life¡ª probably reading books or something."

    This too came as a surprise to the young girl who had never experienced the world, she began to think about her father''s words, while she disagreed with the book part, she agreed with him about having to experience life and the world.

    Amber smiled, humor still playing on her lips. "Dad, just promise me one thing. When you die, don''t go out in a library."

    Alex''s face lit up, like the scene in an old comedy play. "Ah, Amber, I most likely will die in a library!" He chuckled. "Because my whole family is obsessed with books, unlike most other dragons. I have to save you all as the only one who doesn''t go insane from reading too much. You can thank me later."

    "At least I''m not a bookworm," Amber quipped back. "So, you better keep your eye on the others, especially Judge."

 Chapter 118 - 118: Itâ€™s All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses a Head

    "The Clown of Sinister Smirk!" Lester sputtered, voice trembling as if it might break. His hands clutched his temples, eyes wild with terror. "He wore this...this clown mask! A grinning mask, like¡ªlike a deranged jester." He shivered, glancing down at the red pool on the floor, barely whispering, "And blood. So much blood."

    All three officers stood around Lester, their uniforms spotless¡ªwell, except for the accidental splashes of blood on their boots, which they were all valiantly ignoring. Navy blue and charcoal black with burgundy stripes, these uniforms were supposed to command respect. But in this butchered assassin den, they looked like mismatched figures in a gory art exhibit.

    One of the police officers, Officer Murphy, raised an eyebrow, nudging his partner. "Let me guess," he muttered, "our mystery man''s got a flair for the dramatic?"

    "Sir, this is not a place for jokes," A female officer said alarmingly, her outfit had a slight difference, she had a high-waisted trouser instead of the normal ones that the male officers wore.

    "Yeah Yeah, You don''t have to tell me that all the time, I am trying to lighten the mood here." Officer Murphy replied.

    They were still inside the assassin''s gathering, the floor was a pool of blood, and most of the corpses were mutilated beyond comprehension. The primary analysis was that the killer seemingly had a great hatred for them, possibly an assassin from here had assassinated someone close to them and incurred their wrath.

    Normally, as this place was an assassin''s den, the police obviously had no idea of its existence. However, due to many previous events including mass sacrifices for certain rituals, there was a monitoring artifact set up covering the whole city that could detect any mass murderings. That way, the high-ranking individuals in the army were all immediately dispatched as soon as they found an anomaly.

    "The clown of sinister smirk." another one of the officers repeated, mostly to himself, as if he was contemplating hardly on the name. After a while, he returned to his commanding posture and continued his questioning.

    "What did he ask you, why did he let you live?" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lester gulped, eyes darting around as if the clown might leap out from behind the officers. "He asked about the ¡­my commission to, y''know, off someone. Then he just... he just stared at me with that awful smile."

    His whole body was shaking, he crossed his arms and held himself together, he had pissed his pants and was crying like a child¡ª that was the fear the terrifying clown had given him.

    "Who was the target?"

    But there was no answer, he shivered in fear. "I-I can''t tell, I would die... please." He held his head, his eyes hollow.

    If anything, the police understood one thing¡ª there was something keeping him from speaking.

    "Alright, take him in for questioning," Officer Murphy barked, he seemed to be the superior of the two "And get him some clean pants." And then after looking around, he continued. "Take him to the asylum after the procedures are done, he would need time to recover."

    "Yes Sir!" The other two officers shouted.

    Lester, who could not think clearly and only had fear in his mind, gulped. He just wanted to get out of this place that teemed with the thick, crimson liquid called blood.

    Just as he was about to exit, the officer turned back and asked in a more calmer, yet oppressive voice. "Who commissioned you to kill the target?"

    Lester froze, he looked directly at the officer''s deep black eyes, "It was me... another me."

    Just as he said that¡ª a thin, crimson line appeared on his neck, as they all watched, his head fell to the ground, and all that was left¡ª was a cleanly cut, headless body.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Yes! That''s how you say that.

    Judge sat straight and rested his back on the tall backrest of his huge throne, he was inside his studio and was watching the whole scenario unfold. He first wanted to question the guy and make him accept to work for him to bring him under the influence of the scriptwriter.

    But just as he began his questioning, he sensed many people approaching. They likely had not sensed him because there would not be anything to sense when he had put on the cameraman''s mask.

    Sensing the approaching individuals, he had marked the guy and headed to the studio (after sighing of course) in a jiffy. He initially wanted to take the trembling worker to the next dimension with him but decided against it because he was curious as to what the man would say to the incoming people who most probably were reinforcements or the police.

    He was not worried about not being able to question the man since he could do that whenever he wanted and wherever he wanted, it was just a matter of politely inviting the guy into his throne room.

    Now that he had gotten what he needed, he no longer had the need for the guy. Killing the guy in such a way when the police are watching was a great way to get captured since they were all people with high power and could sense where a principle was cast from and immediately lock on to the target.

    But he was not worried since he was casting the principle from inside his domain which nobody can sense or enter. (hopefully)

    Doing this inside the studio had another use, since the highly powerful inspectors could not sense his presence despite casting a principle right in front of their eyes, they would be convinced that he was extremely powerful because they could not detect an incredible powerhouse even if the said person were to cast a principle right in front of them.

    "That clown is truly from the Drakonis house." He heard the officer say, and the others nodded in response. His voice did not have the commanding tone from before.

    With this, Judge thought, The name of ''The Clown of Sinister Smirk'' would spread. And he would watch them speak his name, with a smirk on his face, inside his domain¡ª The Studio.

 Chapter 119 - 119: Transformation Isnâ€™t That Special, Okay?

    Judge started to seriously ponder over what the man had just said, He says that it is another him, which most probably translates to a person who can transform. Another "him"? Really? The guy said it like it was some magical rarity. And sure, transformation was supposed to be rare...except he''d already seen two people pulling it off this week alone. "Come on," he muttered under his breath. "At least try to act scarce."

    But fine, he had other things to consider. For instance: why on Ether would the commissioner pop in as some common worker? That was practically an open letter saying, "I can shapeshift!" Either the commissioner was screaming it to the world on purpose, or...he had a very odd sense of self-importance.

    There seem to be two reasons, at least as far as I can deduce¡ª one is that there are some limitations to his principle, giving him no choice but to appear in the other party''s form. The other possible reason would be that he wanted the other party, not just the worker but anyone who interrogates him, to know that he could transform. So as to say, it is futile to chase after me. Or it could be just both.

    Judge smiled, the commissioner was smart. He had won this time, but one way or the other Judge would catch him. There was only one way to catch that guy, and that was something he had left.

    If one takes the whole empire of Eldris¡ª excluding the dragons, there could barely be about fifty people who know and mastered transformation other than the racial transformation. Many dragons have created their own transformation principle (Yes the dumb species did) all stemmed from the principle of transforming into a wyvern.

    Judge leaned back in his seat, the high-backed throne he''d chosen for his latest bout of deep thinking giving way into a strange, squishy softness as the room warped around him. Just after the distortion, he was lying on his bed in a rather expensive hotel.

    One blink later, he was lying on a plush hotel bed that had eaten up 2 whole sen a night. "Pricey place for a guy planning to save the empire," he mused, though he didn''t pause to reconsider. A that would cost him that much amount for a night was considered very expensive.

    He wondered how much the dress altogether had cost him. His compulsive buying disorder was acting up and he had spent a large sum of 28 sten for it plus 2 sten tip, an amount that could get him a whole luxury dinner was spent just as a tip, and all of that for what? Just for the worker''s bemused expression. Was it satisfying? Absolutely, more people should try it if they can afford it.

    It wasn''t like he was low on funds, anyway. He had more than 5,000 sten socked away, a sum that could make even a wealthy family''s year. Let them marvel. Let them gawk. He was a Drakonis, and that meant excess spending was an expectation, not an exception.

    He did not have much thought on his decreasing wallet size, because to be precise, he had about 5800, which turned to 5300 after his initial withdrawals. And then it was turned to 5180 after he took out another 120 when he had put his whole money inside the bank.

    Currently, in his hand, he had 118 sten, 6 sen, and 3 nen. which was already a huge sum of money, most middle-class families who had occasional luxuries averaged around 150 sten as their yearly savings.

    To put more into perspective, one could buy an entire estate with just 1000-2000 stens, so yeah, 5000 stens were definitely an overkill, but the Drakonis never cared about such an amount since in the family''s eyes, it was a cheap sum.

    Judge closed his eyes, with the blue moon shining on the patterned wall through the half-closed curtain.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Mr. and Mrs. Rivet were caught up in a long-overdue reunion, clung to each other like young lovebirds. Sure, they had their quirks. Noel, the assassin with a soft heart, could crumble at the sight of his wife shedding even one tear, while Isadora, the ever-dramatic lady, often considered life itself a long, drawn-out sigh. She had some nihilistic charm about her, where she''d ponder mortality just as someone else might ponder a coffee refill.

    In fact, she was still suicidal, but the thought of her husband crying over her death did not give her enough strength to do so. But if he were to die, she would probably try to die too. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She cuddled her husband and held him close, wearing a dark pink, almost red nightgown. "Who are you supposed to kill this time, love?" Isadora murmured with the same nonchalance one might reserve for asking about weekend plans, brushing his hair with a distant smile.

    "The young miss of the Drakonis family." He answered as if confirming he''d remembered to pick up milk. They were not scared of anyone hearing since they had enough confidence that no one could sneak into their place unnoticed.

    But they had a slight mishap in their thought, the recorders had no qualms about being found out¡ª since there was no way that they could be found out, unless it was a god or something. And there was Asmodeus, the sin of lust. By courtesy of orders from Lucifer.

    Lucifer had put her in charge after it turned night and things turned... well... romantic. After all, she was into anything that was a little... fervent.

    She recorded the whole couple''s exchange without batting an eye or any concern about whether her master would be concerned about her mental well-being.

    "So, did you finish the job?" Isadora asked in a weak, monotonous tone, as if she was asking if he had a good breakfast.

    "Poor girl," Noel answered as if answering that he had a good breakfast.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    It was morning, and Judge had the best nap after a peaceful night of psychopathic murderings of several assassins and workers. He had created a fine blend of the corpses, literally.

    Today, though, he wasn''t donning his usual clown attire; no, today, he was a man of mystery and wealth¡ª a respectable (cough, cough) mercenary with a story as unknown as it was unverified. And he was going to take any commission that was going get him some attention so he could establish some ties that could become useful.

    He leisurely entered the mercenary guild in his normal merc attire. The entrance was like a two-storied tavern, with the second story being a platform that wrapped around the inside edges of the hall, making it more of a viewing platform for any ongoing fights on the floor below.

    Bustling halls were nothing new to Judge, after all, he had spent a long ''45 minutes'' inside the bank. But this place was not just bustling, every nook and cranny was filled with people, they were sitting beside the tables, and some were chatting while leaning against a wall. In short, the place was a resthouse for mercenaries who always took on dangerous jobs.

    He saw many veterans sharing stories about their adventures with a few rookies were eagerly listening in. Judge wanted to join in and learn more about the world, but decided against it since he was not a rookie but an experienced one.

    Looking around, he spotted a woman furiously punching the keys of a typewriter behind a counter. She was engrossed, probably typing up some intense report, or maybe a spicy office romance. He gave a polite cough to get her attention, only to realize¡ª whoops, that was more "aristocratic" than "mercenary."

    So he did what any other respectable mercenary would do (if that line of profession could be called "respectable"), he rang the bell on the high counter, causing the woman to look up to see the dark figure.

    The woman looked up, adjusted her glasses, and gave him a once-over. "New here?" she asked, her tone as dry as stale toast. She didn''t bother with polite smiles or formalities, which was fine by Judge¡ªthe guild was less "customer service" and more "good luck, don''t die."

    Unlike most organizations that needed their employees to be respectful toward their clients, the mercenary guild had no such restrictions. And the client also liked the more informal tone, making them feel more at ease in the life-or-death profession.

    "I would like to register, and do some missions if available," Judge said in a young but cold voice.

    "Sir," The green-haired woman said with a questioning tone, "before you take on any missions we would need to confirm your level of skill, which would done via tests that you can choose according to your specialty." The worker wore brown leather armor, possibly enchanted, and her hair was tied up neatly to the back. She had a sword that was kept hanging on the thin wooden separation, kept in a position that was easy to draw. Surely, the guild was not a place to wear pretty, fights could break out at any moment if one was not careful.

 Chapter 120 - 120: Money matters, but it does not when your reputation is on line

    Without waiting for any further talks, Judge handed over his identification documents to the receptionist as soon as she held her hands out and started to say "Identifi..."

    Yeah, I know the ropes around here. He thought inwardly, but quickly suppressed those thoughts to not jinx himself.

    The receptionist with green hair adjusted her glasses and sized him up again... twice, before punching the keys and scanning through the document he gave. A short while passed and she made two copies of his documents as well as took an application sheet from on top of a nearby pile.

    She stood up, went near the telegram transceiver, put the paper into a compartment, and again started punching the keys. This time, the duration was pretty long, but after she got a confirmation that the identification documents were not fake, she printed details into the application document and gave him his original document.

    The sound of punching keys continued on for a while, after that, she looked at Judge and motioned him towards a door on the side, "You seem to know the ropes, you know what to do."

    I jinxed it, didn''t I?

    It was the first thought that he had. He only knew about the document part, even the test part was new to him.

    "Not so experienced are you?" The woman said in a mocking tone after seeing no reaction from Judge, clearly frustrated by his earlier over-smart behavior.

    There were some eyes on Judge, even a blockhead could sense that they were mocking him, or could they? I dunno I am not an idiot. But this was something he was looking forward to. He just looked at the woman and smiled, "You''ll see."

    Under normal circumstances, the people around him would hardly notice someone who just came in. Though the tests were news to him, this did not hold him back from going through with the plan. It was simple, place as much attention as he can on him, one way or another, but without letting the other party know that he was trying to garner attention.

    In the original plan, the next step was to clear a pretty difficult, but not overly dangerous job and make others have a feeling that he was not a total newbie. This would let many mercs to place attention on him and he could widen his mercenary social circles. His current plan was even more simple, proving that he was not a total rookie in the tests.

    This would allow him to take appropriate commissions and spread the word of an unknown mercenary who was clearly past the rookie stage, or in other words... super rookie.

    The receptionist sighed, Hey sighing is a part of MY persona, you can''t do that! Judge quipped inwards. "Next step in the procedure is tests," She was back to her normal tone, which was not much of a development, but at this stage, it was more comfortable. "There are several tests available, all for different people with various skills, you can choose which one to take as per your expertise. The results will be valued on your performance of that part."

    "What all tests are there?"

    "As I said, there are really a great deal of tests, just tell me what you are good at."

    Judge stood straight and thought for a while, He had only been using swords for a while, but in his previous life, although he used swords, there was a side of him that nobody knew. It was a side that he had only told his partner... former partner in crime about.

    He was a master marksman!

    He leaned back, "I am experienced in the domain of sword, but I am more adept at using a gun."

    "Well if you are more adept at using a gun, then I suggest you go for the marksmanship test, of course, if you can pass tests for both, then that would be recorded. But let me warn you, there is a time frame between tests, you cannot attempt two tests at once or back to back. This is because there are several people trying to take tests.

    "There are also fees for tests, marksmanship test costs 5 sten, but you can also prove your worth via a commission were you would be accompanied by someone who would take the commission fees for themselves. This is an option if you do not have money."

    Wow! They sure are pros in the field, Judge contemplated for a few seconds, he had the money but killing monsters outdoors had a better feel to it when compared to shooting mannequins indoors, Tch! Lame! He clicked his tongue, but it was not audible.

    "What are the differences other than price?"

    The woman looked at him with pity, as if he were a beggar. He wanted to refute her silent judgment, to insist that he could afford the test, but something held him back.

    "Well, for starters, you cannot take any commission. The guild will allow you to choose from a few that they take. It would be to hunt for a monster, mostly for materials. And even if the commission was high, you would not get a nen. But rest assured, any treatment fees would be borne by the guild, as long as it does not exceed half of the commission.

    The indoors is relatively safer since the test will be held along with many other test takers and on the watch of two or more high-ranking mercs. There have never been any injuries since it only requires you to shoot moving and stationary targets. Many pay for the test since it is safer and the end result for both is your acceptance as a marksman-type mercenary."

    Judge thought for a bit more time, "I have the money, but I like the idea of going out more. Can I hire someone as a guard so I can take on a more dangerous mission?"

    The receptionist''s face went from doubting his "I have money" to a more stern expression. "Unfortunately that is not included in our test rules. So, what would you like, indoor or outdoor."

    Judge pondered for a brief moment, indoor selection would end quicker and would be relatively safe, he could then head out to hunt. But even though outdoor hunting seemed full of negative consequences, it was not with its own advantage.

    Firstly, he could spread his name quicker if he took the outdoor path. Thinking about it, if he took a test that only proved his accuracy and also with other contestants who could also do the same, he doubted if he could get as much attention from hunting a monster without help and with someone possibly of a good circle watching.

    "I take the outdoors, I like to hunt monsters rather than being stuck inside a shooting hall, I am past those days." He toned it in such a way that the receptionist would think he was just trying to mask his inability to pay.

    And as he expected, it came, "Just be open about it if you have no money. Nobody is going to..."

    That was enough, he took out his purse and slammed a ten sten note on the desk. "Don''t talk to me about money, take this as a tip." While this may seem unnecessary, this was a crucial part of his plan that he just made up.

    This would enable him to be noticed by someone with a high standing and have a slight curiosity about how he obtained that money, and about his background, It would increase the possibility of a person with a good social circle coming to watch over his ''test'', letting him enter the circle more easily.

    And as expected, he could feel many gazes on him, but there were a handful that felt powerful, and one that felt like it was another Melina. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "When would it begin?" He asked the flustered woman.

    "I-I will get it right away," She was more polite, but it was still not on the level of a normal receptionist.

    Minutes later, he saw the green-haired woman come in with a handful of flyers, all of them had pictures of various monsters in the front. "These are the commissions that you can choose from."

    Her hands are trembling a bit, and she seems a bit flustered, but she is good at composing herself. Judge took note, A high-ranking worker would have intervened in selection. The four rectangular sheets were laid out in front of him. All four were mid-predatory level monsters, but all of them had different advantages.

    One monster was the illusory fiend, it was a monster that was like a ghost but with a physical body. It was a monster that could be shot down, but it could create a huge load of illusions, making it a pain to fight.

    The second monster was the Veilcrawler, it was a monster with the appearance of a blob. It had a mist-like skin and multiple glowing eyes. The hard part about the monster was that it could constantly cloak itself in a thick mist that distorts vision. The fog is unnaturally dense, and the creature can shift its form within it, making it near-impossible to aim at.

    The third one... Judge smiled, it was the hardest.

 Chapter 121 - 121: When you try too hard to not Jinx it

    The third monster was called The Shrouded Grasper, a monster that was extremely hard to kill. All of the monsters presented to him had one thing in common, they were hard to kill with a ranged weapon that needed proper aiming, it was something especially curated for him, and they were not trying to hide it.

    The Shrouded Grasper was a more humanoid monster but with an outer layer that seemed to distort like smoke. The hard part began from its surroundings, it would constantly exude a layer of thick, black smog that it would use to hide its existence, so ranged attacks were a no-go.

    Its entire body was just a physical projection that it would use to move itself, so even if he shot it after taking care of the smoke it would still would not be enough. The real body was a precious tiny pearl that was somewhere within its physical projection. The pearl contained a lot of ether and so the monster was highly sought after, but the supply was low since there were not any effective ways to hunt it.

    So if he had to hunt it, he would have to offset the smog somehow, and then he had to locate and shoot at such an accuracy that it should hit the tiny core.

    Judge smiled, his excitement was building up. Such a fine prey, how could I pass up this opportunity?

    "I take this, Shrouded Grasper seems like a prey worth hunting." He revealed a gentle, yet dangerous smile. A smile that reminds one of a calm, serene lake that hides the depths of its hidden currents¡ª beautiful, but capable of swallowing you whole without warning. The receptionist shuddered, her trembling hands were shaking more.

    "Alright, The shroud grasper it is. We will provide you with something that you can use to collect only the core pearl after you kill it." She was quick to take back her composure.

    Judge nodded, he would shatter the whole pearl when he killed the monster. So having an artifact that could ''collect'' the core was something he needed. Unless of course, he liked spending time collecting all the fragments.

    As the receptionist was typing something, probably about who took which commission, Judge felt a hand on his shoulder¡ª a firm but gentle, yet rough and dangerous hand.

    He turned to look at who would be accompanying him in this commission, and as he had expected, it was the same gaze that he had especially paid attention to¡ª the gaze that was filled with a peaceful malice.

    "Are you the one who would accompany me?" Judge feigned ignorance.

    "Don''t act like you don''t know lad, you sensed my gaze didn''t ya?" The man had a rough voice, his dark blue hair had grey streaks. There was a long mark that started from his brow and spanned all the way over his closed eyes and across his left cheek. The other eye had a silver luster with a strong hint of the color red, he was almost two meters tall.

    "I don''t know what you are talking about." Judge still feigned ignorance, but he knew that response was the best there. The man gave a loud laugh, he then patted Judge''s back and motioned him to walk with the other hand.

    "Let''s collect material shall we?" He said as if he was sure that Judge would succeed.

    Judge need only to look once at the man, he knew that the person in front of him was a woman. A woman he had hoped to never meet, someone he was all too familiar with.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Meanwhile, out on the deck, Amber found the cold outside biting, but her father''s warm arm around her shoulder kept her cozy enough to ignore the chill. They stood on the edge of the Drakonis lands, with a dense fog enveloping them so thickly that she could barely see past her nose. Her father''s grip was firm, as if he thought she might drift away into the mist if he let go.

    Amber blinked repeatedly, trying to see past the fog that clung to everything. The mist dampened her face and felt odd against her eyes, but she didn''t want to miss what her father had promised would be an extraordinary view.

    "And now," her father, Alex, announced with theatrical flair, "behold! The grand vista of our lands, a sight to humble any heart! Just beyond this fog, dear Amber, you''ll see it all." He was clearly trying to sound grand, but the effect was closer to a wayward bard attempting to sound noble. Amber laughed, giving him an amused look.

    "Dad, really?" she giggled. "That''s so unlike you."

    Alex chuckled and shrugged, lowering his hat in mock defeat. "Alright, alright, I won''t oversell it."

    At last, the fog began to part, revealing a breathtaking sight. Amber''s eyes widened as her vision settled on a vast valley flanked by towering, snow-capped mountains. Below, lush, green valleys stretched endlessly, dotted with thick forests, and a grand river carved its way through the landscape, flowing gracefully from a large lake fed by three other rivers.

    High above, wyverns soared majestically in the clear blue sky, their wings glinting in the sunlight. Amber knew that these winged forms weren''t mere beasts¡ª they were her kin, dragons in their wyvern guise. The sight made her feel oddly at home, a sense of peace settling over her.

    In the valley below, she spotted a sprawling village, vibrant with activity. Fields of golden crops stretched for miles, with workers tending to their harvests, a beautiful testament to the strength of her people.

    "Wow!" She just stood there, not being able to say anything as she took the scene in all its grandeur. She felt like she had swallowed he tongue and was unable to speak. Her father was true when he said it was breathtaking¡ª she nearly forgot to breathe. Such was the beauty of the scenery, no wonder many chose to stay instead of heading to the land of dragons.

    It took a full minute for her to grasp the unbelievable feeling that she had left home after ten years, she had left the place, her home¡ª Terra Draconum.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Norris, the co-owner of a large legal arms dealing shop. Most customers inside the shop were mercenaries, with only a few being people from other professions.

    Soon, the doorbell tinkled and two people walked inside. One was wearing a plain white mask with a smiley face, while the other was a known mercenary who, although he was only seen around here for a year, was extremely strong.

    "I need a revolver and a long rifle, both ether-powered or gunpowder. No steam." The man in the mask said in a relatively younger voice compared to the man next to him.

    "Aah, right away Sir!" He answered with a smile. As he always dealt with mercenaries, he knew the level of their patience, they were all hot-tempered and disliked repeating themselves, at least most of them.

    Norris sprang into action, he was one of the owners of the shop. According to the partnership agreement, he would work in the shop and manage it, but he would also be paid for it accordingly which was given before the revenue was split.

    "Right this way gentlemen," he showed them toward a shelf that was very visible due to the sunlight seemingly focused on it. Norris wore a dark green vest and a white shirt as well as black blazers, which was unbuttoned but he swiftly put on the buttons as soon as he got up.

    He walked towards the glass shelf, blocking the excess sunlight and turning on the light inside, the light was kept off since sunlight was enough to see the contents but not study them. And saving on the ether bills that powered the lights was something he could profit from.

    Judge looked at the display of different types of handguns inside, there were normal revolvers, and those were the popular choice. There were flintlock pistols and pistols which varied in types like pepper-box pistols and dual pistols.

    He scanned through each one of them, but decided to go for an all or just these gamble, there was nothing to lose after all. "I need some special ones. Revolver I mean, you know what I meant."

    This shocked Norris, special revolvers were specially made guns that were used to target enemies that had a huge defense and were hard to crack. People who requested them were both rich and knew the secret workings here. "Just wait a minute sir." He bowed and headed towards an ''employee-only'' door.

    As they saw Norris out of the hearing reach, the man next to Judge turned to him. "How do you know about the special guns?" This was a genuine question, not something he had answers for.

    "There are specially made guns from where I came from," Judge was telling the truth, he was dying to leave that place he mentioned, (and he did *spoiler for chapter 1). "And I just tried if they would work here, after all, what do I have to lose if there was not."

    The man looked at him seriously, then he chuckled lightly. "You are a funny one."

    Judge did not know whether it was a joke or an insult, but he decided not to probe into it, instead, he decided for a small talk, "What is your name by the way?"

 Chapter 122 - 122: Buying firearms legally. Plot twist-there is no license

    Judge and the tall man met their eyes, he felt a slight chill from that single silvery-red eye. The man hesitated for a moment before replying, "I am called Saphiel."

    "Saphiel," Judge repeated, muttering to himself as if tasting the name. "That''s a nice name, but it reminds me of someone."

    "Who?" Saphiel''s tone was somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.

    "Oh, don''t worry about it, Personal matters, treat it as if I have never said anything." He smiled at the tall man, seemingly forgetting that he was wearing a mask that was always smiling¡ª but creepily though. "Just... think of it as a momentary lapse in manners."

    Before they could dive further into that mystery, Norris entered, balancing a stack of heavy boxes and looking like a precarious tower of armory. "Sorry for the wait, lads. Here are the revolvers, and a few pistols too. Quite the selection if I do say so myself!"

    Norris began his grand tour, opening the boxes with the pride of a magician revealing his best trick. "These two beauties, are new arrivals, capable of doing both ether and gunpowder, it is strong as well as conductive."

    He touched the pistol, it had a black grip and an iron body, along with golden-colored inlays and patterns. "This is the golden eagle, a revolutionary model capable of using either ether or gunpowder for some good ol'' monster skull-shattering firepower."

    "And this one," He touched the revolver with a brown leather handle and an iron body with different golden inlays and patterns. "This is the Vanguard 22, the latest and improved model of the Vanguard series. Capable of shooting long distances without losing the force. A real beauty, I tell ya." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge did not think much, he picked up the Golden Eagle, hefting it like a seasoned pro. "Not bad. Holds, what, 20 rounds? Reminds me of an old friend, the Glock 17¡ªthough this beats it by a mile. Except in concealment. That friend was much better at keeping things¡­ low profile."

    "Er... a Glock?" Norris asked, looking like he''d been asked to explain the mysteries of the universe. "Never heard of it."

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, enjoying Norris''s bewilderment. "Forget it. Ancient history. But, listen," he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. "Any ''enhanced'' pistols around?"

    Norris looked at Judge like he''d just asked for a weapon from another dimension. "Enhanced pistols?" he repeated, as if he was testing whether the words made any sense together. He looked at Judge with doubtful eyes, he had never heard the term ''enhanced pistols'' despite having an experience of more than a decade.

    Judge smiled beneath his mask, this worker would surely not know anything about an enhanced pistol. He knew that very well, enhanced pistols are something made with the help of runes, and it was not even popular among dragons. But he had heard that it was available in Wistmere since many dragons there use guns instead of swords like most dragons in the land of dragons.

    The reason he said that was just to get the attention of the man near him¡ª or the woman dressed as a man. As she knew things about dragons, she was sure to have heard about enhanced pistols and runes.

    "Oh sorry!" He gave a self-deprecating laugh, putting Norris at ease, "I will just take this as a dual-wield, how much?"

    "Erm¡­ alright then," Norris heaved a sigh of relief, the tension that had been building in the silence vanished, "It would be 55 sten a piece sir."

    55 sten! Judge was surprised by the amount, Well, that''s only... the price of a small cottage. No problem.

    But it was normal since this was a customized high-performance pistol with a whopping 20-round magazine. He knew very well that an engraved or enhanced gun would cost him more than a hundred sten, it would cost more if it was an antique collector''s item, which would be more than 200 sten.

    Without haggling on the price, he moved his gaze towards the case that was filled with non-steam model rifles. "I will take two golden eagles. now for the rifles, I need something that can travel really long distances, something that could take down a wild boar at, oh, a mile or two away?, can I custom order?"

    "Sire there are rifles that can be used from a long distance, but a mile is a pretty long distance to travel in a straight line." Norris explained, "But if you are looking for something in particular, then it is possible to custom order, but it will take at least a week to finish."

    Judge nodded, listening attentively. "Ok, I will take that, so for now," He took a polished, wood-finished rifle, admiring its craftsmanship. "I will take this beauty, I need ammunition for both of them... No, three of them. Heh."

    "Right away sir. That rifle is called the ''Wooden Crow'', a fine work if I say so myself. It would be 80 sten, totaling 190 sten without counting the ammunition." Norris clasped his hands, ready for some bargaining, that was expected of mercenaries.

    Judge nodded, and without much action, he pulled out his purse and counted twenty notes of ten stens. "Gimme pistol rounds for seven sten and rifle bullets for three, ether infused, of course."

    "Right away sir," Norris was surprised, it was a rare sight to see mercenaries who did not try to bargain about the price. He took two iron cases that could hold thirty pistol rounds and filled one with twenty bullets and the other with fifteen. He then took another bigger iron case and filled it with twelve rifle bullets.

    The cases were all put on the cashier''s table and Norris took the two pistols that Judge bought as well as the rifle and inserted them with full magazines. "This one is on the house!" He announced.

    "I must thank you then," Judge said in a cold but unhostile tone. A tone so flat it was impossible to tell if he was grateful or just amused.

    ¡ª

    Judge and Saphiel were both headed deep into the forest, they left the city a long time ago. The silence was serene and peaceful, none of them uttered a word.

    "How do you know about enhanced pistols?" Saphiel finally asked.

    "Guess," Judge answered indifferently. He could feel the angry pressure being built up, but he did not care.

    "You better tell me if you do not like a beating." Saphiel did not hide his(her) anger.

    "Alright, I will tell you after this hunt is over, is that acceptable?" Judge clearly remembered when they had first met, they ended up clashing and the aftermath was something he did not want to go through again.

    "Just answer me this, Are you a wyvern?"

    "Answer my question first," he turned to him a bit seriously, "and I will tell you about my race and how I got to know about enhanced pistols and about how I know how to "make" it, you know, with the runes and stuff."

    The "runes" was enough to get his(her) attention, but before they could continue their exchange, there was a presence near them that kept itself hidden, a predator.

    Judge quickly drew his long pistol, it was long enough to be called a short shotgun... or a long pistol, or a short rifle¡ª anyways it was a long-barrelled pistol. He had two of them, the golden eagles.

    He was itching to see them in action. Saphiel just stood still without any movement. As per Judge''s agreement with the mercenary guild¡ª as this was a test, he would not help him unless the situation was serious, which would make Judge lose the test.

    Judge drew a single pistol with a flick, "This one''s mine." He said just in case Saphiel joined the hunt saying that they only had a deal of not intervening in the fight against the Shroud Grasper.

    Saphiel on the other hand, nodded at him tersely. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was humoring Judge. But his eyes were full of curiosity as to how this young man would fight.

    The predator clearly was not going to wait around until they finished their exchange, it leaped at Judge who was the closest.

    "A bit impatient aren''t ya." Judge quipped as he sidestepped slightly to avoid the animal, the sidestep was insultingly light. The fox... no wolf... hyena... the nimble predator lunged at Judge again. Who sidestepped again, but he raised his gun and shot its flank, obliterating its stomach altogether.

    Judge looked at it with a srcastic face, "Wow that was a bit too powerful, why is there no license for these portable cannons?"

    Saphiel seemed unbothered, but he was caught up on one word, "License?"

    "you know, like those permits you need to drive a cloud weaver and do some other stuff," He said as he inched closer to the corpse, "This one''s really dangerous."

    "That''s because most do not buy specially crafted weapons," Saphiel also walked closer, "and among the rare people who did, only a small percentage could handle the recoil, and you are one."

 Chapter 123 - 123: Lets see, how do I shoot this thing?

    "I am really special aren''t I?" Judge kicked the predator corpse that was too damaged to be of any value. "My build is not fit to bear the huge recoil, yet I can. Do you want to know why?"

    Saphiel looked at him curiously, but did not say anything. Judge could feel his curiosity, but he was reserved. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Well, if you don''t want to I am not telling." Judge waved his hand as they resumed their journey to find a Shroud Grasper. "And if you want to know why, just ask me."

    "Why then?" Saphiel''s strides were light, they failed to make noise even when stepping on all the dried leaves on the forest ground.

    "Glad you asked," Judge turned back to look at Saphiel, "I once had a dream, a very lucid one. I know what I was doing but I did not know I was dreaming..."

    Without mentioning his master''s name, he started to recount his training with Seraphis, but he exaggerated it a bit and said that it ''only'' lasted a week, though a day was all it took. But he sliced up the story and mixed it in a blender before telling. He did not say anything about his occasional visits to the ozone layer, (just to do a checkup yeah) but he had instead told him that he did very well in training. He told her the training was in a starting phase and was not hard at all¡ª ''Just to be safe''.

    After recounting the whole story, he ended with his master saying that they were just in a dream and both would forget about the week they shared. But as a loving student, (yes loving) he had refused to forget about his master and her teaching.

    "... the result? I remembered bits of my training, but not everything."

    Saphiel, who was following behind him closely nodded before clapping. "I''d give the story an 8 out of 10, there are some areas that were lacking."

    "...Wha?" Judge stumbled forward, deflated but quickly recovered. He sighed and focused on his way forward, they were now inside the foggy area of the forest. "Well, I should thank you for the constructive critisism." He quipped.

    "What does it have to do with you being able to handle the recoil?"

    This question made Judge laugh, this was what he had expected in place of an average 8 out of 10 rating. "That''s where the twist is, I can bet that you would be surprised to hear my master''s name."

    "Kiddo, you are underestimating me," He smirked. "Even if she was well-known and was powerful, I can bet I won''t be surprised."

    "Then are you up for a bet? I would pay you just how much the commission costs. If you lose, you have to give me the commission money."

    "Alright, I bet." Saphiel did not mind the money even though it was a substantial amount of a hundred sten. He was more curious about the name, something told him that this new mercenary, Dorian Caine, would not tell him the name unless he did so.

    Judge let out an audible laughter, "Prepare to be surprised then, she is called... Seraphis!"

    Saphiel''s undecipherable face clearly showed fluctuations, indicating that he was surprised beyond measure. His eyes widened, even his mouth was agape. "...S-Seraphis?!"

    "Well, welcome 100 sten," Judge said happily.

    "How do you know m- her?"

    "She is standing right beside me isn''t she?"

    Saphiel... no¡ª Seraphis was dumbfounded, this kid was not bluffing. The original her was just known among the phoenixes and dragons as the ''Brute Phoenix''. So it was surprising to hear her name outside the Land of Phoenix. "Does that mean..." She thought for a second, "How you control the recoil... do you know bady strengthening principle?"

    Judge nodded, "Yes, but as I said, I do not know much. I am just doing with what I know." He did not know how to explain it correctly, If it was back on earth I could have just told her that it was just like writing exams, even though you do not know the whole theory¡ª you make do with what and how much you know.

    "Hmm..." She went deep in thought, but before she could speak further, they heard a deafening shriek that seemed to penetrate their skulls and attack deep into their brains.

    Judge covered both his ears with his hands in a desperate attempt to block the noise but to no avail. Seraphis just stood there and watched him try to block the noise, and after a brief moment of the deafening scream, every noise within the forest came to a standstill. It was as if they had entered a graveyard, there was no sound. Silence permeated the air like an uninvited guest.

    "It seems I have more things to teach you," Seraphis laughed, "it must be the arrangement of fate, giving me a pupil whom I do not remember teaching Just when I was starting to feel lonely."

    Judge wanted to shout how she was unaffected by the shriek, but decided it was wise not to say anything. "Looks like I got myself a master who has memory issues."

    Seraphis stared at him for two seconds, "Based on your behavior, I think I know why I took you in."

    No way! Does she remember our fight?! Oh god please no¡ª oh wait! I am a god. At least I would be. Judge remembered the embarrassing memory he had when he first fought his master, he had lost despite them fighting inside his own domain.

    "What was that shriek just now?" He decided to change the topic.

    "A cry full of pain and desperation, a cry for help. It seems to be from a prey, a powerful prey at that." She looked deep into the forest where the noise came from. "There is a lot of thick fog there, we seem to have found our target when it is out to hunt food."

    "Allow me then," Judge walked forward and lifted the earth below them via a simple ethercraft. He then took out the Wooden Crow and aimed at the thick fog.

    Normally, Seraphis would have scolded him for aiming at a prey inside a thick fog. The shot had nearly zero chance of success, and would end up alerting the enemy, but there were two reasons why she did not stop him. One, she was there only to watch and lent a hand only when necessary. Secondly, she knew that Dorian was not an idiot, he would not be aiming at a thick fog without any plan. Unless of course, she was wrong about him.

    Judge looked through the scope, the fog was extremely dense, making it nearly impossible to see through.

    Suddenly, Dorian Cain''s silver eyes with golden strands turned ashen white, there was fog churning inside both of them. His vision blurred for a bit and just after that, he could perfectly see through the fog, this was his ability to see through the clouds, a Cloudstrider''s specialty.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber looked at the spacious hall in front of her, this was the docking station inside their palace in Wistmere. It was a one-to-one replica of their original house.

    She was delighted yet gloomy, she came here expecting a brand new experience. But all she got was the same old house, but hey, at least she was back home... a replica at least. She can now make sure that she at least won''t be uncomfortable.

    Alex waved her goodbye as she was taken away by the maids. After a long walk through familiar hallways, she finally ended up in her room. Without waiting there to admire the beauty of the room, because well, she knew the place, she made her way toward the bathroom.

    There was already a bathrobe, towel, and a set of clothes prepared, and the water was heated. She took off her clothes and let herself sink into the bathtub, feeling the warmth all over her body, the exhaustion from her travels seemed to have been washed away.

    After a long period of time, she got out of the bathroom. She wore a black dress with yellow patterns. The maids were waiting for her to get out and were outside her room, only when she clapped and let them know that she had finished her bath did they come in.

    Next up on Amber''s schedule was Dinner, she walked through the illuminated hallways adorned with various decors and ended up in front of the grand double door that led to the dining hall.

    Following in her youngest brother''s footsteps, she sighed and looked at the door, waiting for it to open. And it soon did, two butlers who stood on the sides opened the grand doors.

    Soothing music filled her ears and bright light blinded her eyes as soon as the door was opened. There was a party with many guests present, everyone''s gaze was focused on her. What?! Why is there a party, there was no prior notice!

 Chapter 124 - 124: The Great Case of the Missing Bullet Box (Spoiler: Itâ€™s in the Fog)

    Dragons and beasts were two races with many subspecies. The two known species in the legends about dragons were Phoenixes and Cloud Striders. Both of them stood out because both had separate families that ruled them instead of the drakonis.

    The Phoenix noble house was called Everleigh, while the Cloud Striders were the royal family of Eldris. Eleyn was a princess who was married to Alex from the Draconis family, making their children half Cloud Striders.

    There were records within the Drakonis library and Royal Castle''s library that showed that the Cloud Striders were once called L¨°ng, which also depicted strange symbols like Áú. But nobody knew the origins or what those symbols represented. And Judge, who had read that out of curiosity was confused as to whether it was Chinese or Japanese. His first guess was Japanese since he had heard Seraphis once called her move¡ª Chi no Kiri, but this looked more like simplified Chinese.

    When Judge first stumbled upon the symbol "Áú," he couldn''t resist joking about it. "So, what''s next? A dragon with chopsticks? I swear if I find one holding a teacup, I''m done." The image of a sophisticated dragon sipping tea while floating on a cloud kept him smirking for days.

    As a Cloud Strider''s son, Judge had inherited one ability from his mother¡ª that was his eyes. The ashen white eyes were not there just for decoration, under normal circumstances, a Cloud Strider''s ability to see through the fog was active, and their eyes would turn ashen white when they activated it. But Jugde and his mother were a little different¡ª their eyes would turn ashen white unknowingly, and Judge could never turn it off.

    His silver eyes with golden fibers were just a part of his disguise, and now that he had activated the ability to see through fog, the disguise was no more.

    Seraphis looked at him with anticipation, she had not noticed the color of his eyes as she stood behind him. She was curious as to what this young kid was going to do, could he somehow see through the fog?

    Judge pulled on his dark hoodie and knelt down on the raised earth. "Alright! There you are, little guy," he said, his voice carrying an eerie confidence. Slowly, he raised the weapon in his hand¡ª a long rifle with a gleaming black barrel and a base made of polished wood that had an engraving of a crow, the wooden crow.

    "Let''s dance shall we?" His calm voice was foreboding.

    Bang!

    The silence shattered as he pulled the trigger. The smell of fire remained as the bullet surged forward.

    It was not gunpowder, but an ether bullet that had extremely destructive capabilities. The bullet was not rotating, the barrel was not made for the bullet to rotate. As it turned out engineering still needed some upgrades.

    But this shot was enough for what Judge had in mind, the bullet tore through the thick fog, creating a massive hole as a cannonball had passed through. It accurately hit the Shroud Grasper''s chest, it was feeding on another monster''s carcass.

    Just that shot was enough to rip through its illusory body. The body of the monster blasted apart like fog, but it quickly recovered and closed off the gaping hole in the fog that covered its body.

    Unless people were confident enough, many might end their hunt here, saying that it was too dangerous to proceed. But that little moment before the Shroud grasper recovered was enough for Judge to determine one thing¡ª the location of its core, and he had gotten the result he needed.

    "Let''s head out shall we?" He turned to Seraphis.

    "You missed the shot, it is going to be on its guard." She made an educated remark, which made Judge sigh.

    "This is why people call you the brute phoenix," Judge said, facepalming and getting off the small dune he raised.

    Seraphis'' mouth twitched, she normally took the name as a compliment but this felt strangely insulting. "Brute? Excuse me, young man, I''m a refined brute." She picked up a rock and crushed it in her hand for emphasis. "See? Classy."

    Judge did not mind her much, so she followed her disciple into the fog without much thought... except on how to punish him "Properly".

    Judge ran as fast as he could, he did not want to miss the opportunity and let the monster run away. Shroud Graspers were on the intelligent side and wouldn''t engage in battles with a foe of unknown strength, especially after the power its enemy showcased.

    Soon, they arrived at the center of the fog. Seraphis could not see a thing, but Judge had good visibility, even though it was a bit white. As soon as he saw the monster, he drew his gun without any hesitation. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Bang! Bang!

    The two golden eagles produced two normal bullets as he pulled the trigger. Without trying to dodge, the Shroud Grasper allowed the bullet to pass through its head and chest. The head and chest were split apart, but it did not mind the damage.

    Shroud Grasper quickly recovered and let out a loud shriek, this was not pleasant to the ears, but was better than the previous cry they heard that came from the now-dead prey it was feasting on.

    Judge dodged to the side as an enormous arm came slashing down towards his left chest. The slash slammed down and hit the ground, creating a crater. Then the giant hand on the ground was swept to the side, making Judge jump up and do a side roll.

    "Wow, you almost touched me!" He mocked the Shroud Grasper. As an intelligent creature, even though it could not understand what he was saying, it could feel the intention behind the words from his tone. It let out an enraged shriek, which was¡ª of course, not pleasant to hear.

    A few shadow tendrils emerged from Judge''s shadows, but he immediately turned invisible and appeared behind the monster. Just as the shroud Grasper turned to look at him, he raised his weapon and aimed at its neck where the core lay.

    Bang!

    A single bullet pierced through it, but there was no core, the body of Shroud Grasper immediately turned foggy and dissipated. The monster appeared behind him, it had gotten a grasp over its enemy''s strength, and now it was not hesitant to fight.

    Seraphis, who now stood opposite Judge, saw his eyes clearly through the two dark holes in the white mask. The fog had dispersed where they fought, allowing her to see further. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw the two ashen white eyes gleaming from behind the mask. She knew who had ashen white eyes, it was a symbol of the royal family.

    He is a dragon disguised as a mercenary?!

    Her first thought was Renald, the first prince. He was a known degenerate, but she had always thought that there was something off about him, maybe he built such a persona in order to escape the castle life.

    But she quickly dismissed it, whoever it was, time will tell. And she was in no hurry to know the identity of the new disciple she got, trying to figure out who he was would only break their fragile trust and relationship.

    Judge dodged another barrage of attacks, he was surprised to learn that this beast had the ability to move through the fog that it created. If it was not for the poor destructive capabilities of this monster, it would have earned a place as a cataclysm level monster.

    He emptied the magazine full of empty shells that contained normal bullets out of one gun. Amidst his nimble dodging, he put the gun back in the leg holster and took out the iron case full of ether bullets.

    With the empty magazine in one hand and the iron case with bullets in the other, he started to reload the magazine, all while trying to dodge the barrage of crazy black tentacles.

    Judge loaded two bullets and started to take another bullet from the case with his thumb and index finger¡ª he held the case with three other fingers. But a tentacle struck him and the iron case was knocked away. He did not have the luxury to search where the box landed, he cursed silently and loaded the third bullet in the magazine.

    "Please check the box that was knocked away," He called out to his master, whom he knew could not see well in the fog. This was said purely because he could feel better.

    He took out his gun and loaded the magazine, immediately rolled to the side, and jumped over another tentacle that came from the side. He raised his gun and shot the monster without hesitation, but it immediately dispersed.

    Something that the Shroud Grasper did not take into account was that its core would be exposed when it was dispersing and reappearing¡ª this was what Judge was aiming for, he immediately started recording and went invisible.

    Just as the Shroud Grasper started to appear, Judge materialized behind the reappearing monster¡ª aiming the tip of the barrel right near the core.

    He smiled, but was covered by the mask that never stopped smiling.

    "Checkmate!" He muttered calmly.

    Bang!

 Chapter 125 - 125: When you are hungry but Simon(Seraphis) says

    Bang!

    The ether behind the bullet exploded to create a force rivaling cannons. The Shroud grasper''s core had no chance of escape. It shattered into many tiny fragments.

    Just as the fog was dispersing, Judge immediately took out a pouch and put one fragment of the core inside. The other shattered pieces started moving and coming towards the mouth of the pouch as soon as he induced some ether inside it.

    I wonder how this artifact works. The artifact nerd''s thoughts acted up, while it was just something he did in order to study the divine artifacts to attain clues to godhood, he couldn''t escape a personality he had unknowingly created for himself.

    All the fragments went inside the pouch like some kind of specialized vacuum cleaner. He put it away inside the big leather pouch on his lower back. "let''s head back."

    He turned to Seraphis, who nodded in response. She did not say anything, hoping to get answers after this whole commission was over.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Four people sat around a round table inside a decent apartment room, the rain was blurring the closed window. The light from a lantern was blurring occasionally. One man stood by the wall, he was wearing a brown jacket and a triangular hat. "The gathering place was destroyed when none of us or anyone with enough strength was there."

    "Yes, surprising right?" One man by the table, who had put the backrest of the chair in front of him, nodded and said. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "That means this was a planned-out operation." Another man with green hair said. "The Clown of Sinister Smile huh? If he was from the Drakonis family, then he must be pretty strong. There is no way they would send weak people."

    "But there is the question," The man opposite him spoke, "The Drakonis do not need such meticulous planning to wipe us out, they have enough manpower to kill us all. They might be trying to mask the death of their young miss, but until when are they going to hold it back and why?"

    "I think you are misunderstanding," The man with a brown jacket and triangular hat spoke again, making everyone else go silent. "I think the clown might be someone who is not affiliated with the Drakonis, of course, it is only a possibility. But if you knew someone killed your child, would you send a weak lackey or go by yourself?"

    "Yourself," Eyerone said unanimously.

    "And do you know the strength of those monsters, their base strength could match many strong people''s racial form."

    "Yes! And that means..."

    "That means the Drakonis family is yet to know who sent the assassin, after all, there are a lot of assassins gathering even inside Wistmere, and they might not turn to Limdon which is not a part of their territory."

    "I get it now!" The man with green hair exclaimed, "It means that someone else got the information, and they acted as a part of the Drakonis house in order to scare us to not find him or the others."

    The man with the triangular hat nodded and came closer to the table, "So we need to find who leaked the information, let us start with the people who commissioned the killing¡ª that is the most probable place where the information was leaked." He snapped his fingers and a glass made of ice came into existence, and he poured the bottle of amber colored malt beer into the ice glass.

    "Does anyone have a clue on who it was?" the man sitting on the back turned chair asked. "The clown might not have enough confidence, but he is sure formidable. I mean, the corpses¡ª they are mangled beyond belief. And the last worker, he was also cut into pieces after the police questioned him."

    "Hmm... you are right, we should be careful." The green-haired man replied.

    "Alright then, it is decided." The man who was silent till now spoke, he was sitting near a small table at the far end of the room. He had black hair and gray eyes, his face was smooth as silk, and he had no beard or mustache. "Let''s search the commissioner."

    "Yes Sir!" Everyone said and except the man with a triangular hat, he downed his drink before he spoke, "As you say master Thadd, I have no choice but to follow your lead."

    Master Thadd laughed a while and then the entire room, including him, went silent. The six men looked at each other and decided to finish the bottle before they went out.

    Lucifer, who was watching all of this, silently praised his master. He was told to stay and record the scene at the assassin gathering and follow if he saw someone suspicious, and when he did, he had gotten here, listening in on a conversation that could reveal clues on who had enough nerve to even think of killing their god incarnation''s sister.

    He just stood there, without even being able to lean on the wall, but as an upside, his body never ached or felt tired.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Alright, the commission is completed and the item is received." The green-haired receptionist had changed, maybe her shift was over. Now there was a blonde girl with an aura of air-headedness around her. "Welcome to the mercenary guild Dorian Caine, as a new member and an emerging marksman." She was cheerful, as if she had yet to register the monster named Shroud Grasper was a pretty powerful one.

    "Here is your mercenary identification, we will be noting the list of monsters you killed inside a database, and would be shared across all branches of the mercenary guild, but it would take about a month. Your first monster on the list would be a Shroud Grasper... Hmm" She fell into thought, she had to write the monster''s tier, but she was pretty forgetful. "Just a sec." She went into the room behind to grab a monster encyclopedia.

    "Let''s go, Dorian, there are a lot of things I wanna talk about," Seraphis spoke as she came closer to Judge.

    "I..." Before Judge could say anything, she grabbed him by the collar, the people around them did not hear what the receptionist had said, so they could not hear the shroud grasper, but they knew about Saphiel.

    "Hey look at that, the kid got Saphiel as a master." Someone said to his table.

    "Man, he''s in for a rough time, he is really merciless even to his own teammates."

    "But isn''t that kid carrying a gun? Saphiel uses swords."

    "You never know, he might start to like swords more than guns. After all, he is with him."

    The crowd erupted into laughter.

    Suddenly, they heard a loud squeak from the room behind the counter, "A Shroud Grasper?! He killed a Shroud Grasper for his test commission?" It was the blonde girl, she was going through the books to find the description of shroud graspers.

    The whole crowd went silent, "What? That kid killed a Shroud Grasper for his test?" A man shouted.

    "Killing it is one thing, but that kid did not even have a scratch on him. Do you guys think Saphiel helped him?"

    "No, then he would have disqualified."

    "That means..."

    Everyone went silent again, and then one guy laughed in a way people actually introduce strong characters in a story, yeah that kind of laugh. "We are going to see some changes in hierarchy." He continued his subtle laugh.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge was trying his hardest to convey his grumbling tummy to his master, but Seraphis was in a world of her own. She ran on the roofs, jumping from one house to the next, her only focus was to reach her residence as soon as possible. There was actually no need to hurry they were free and could take their time, but Seraphis was fixed on reaching her place as soon as possible.

    "Umm... Master Seraphis..." Judge tried to talk, but was met with silence, only the rustling of wind was heard. This took him back to when he was a baby and his mother, but at that time, he did not feel the force of sudden acceleration or anything, it was like Newton had diarrhea when he was actually supposed to sit underneath an apple tree.

    Soon, they reached a two-story house in the outer regions of Rivell borough. He looked at her, owning a house in a city, even if it was in the Limdon outer regions, could cost almost 1000 sten.

    Without a word, they both headed in... well Judge was dragged in, but let''s leave it at that. Just past the entrance was the living room with some sofas, Seraphis threw judge onto one of them and sat on another sofa.

    "Now, tell me who you really are. I don''t believe your whole story about dreams, but I know you are a dragon."

    "Well, master I would like to tell you but..." Grrr, His stomach started to make noise, Judge looked at his master with an embarrassed face, "...I am hungry."

 Chapter 126 - 126: The two mentally, un-matured

    Judge stared at the steaming hot Worrak steak in front of him. This was different from how he usually ate¡ª there were no additional add-ons or any kind of sauces, just the meat that was seasoned well and grilled to perfection.

    He silently praised his master as he slowly chewed the well cooked meat, she was not just his master, but a role model in the kitchen too.

    "So, what is your real identity?" Seraphis asked after completely chewing and swallowing a small piece she cut from the steak on her plate. "Dorian Caine is a likable nickname, it has got a nice ring to it." She smiled lightly before stuffing another small piece in her mouth and chewing lightly.

    The silence was loud, Seraphis had gone to the kitchen and cooked the two steaks for a full two minutes. Unknown to Judge, she actually knew quite a bit of the ethercraft principle for fire manipulation. He did not know what exactly she did, but the steak was cooked inside out just after the two minutes had passed, regardless of the cooking methods, the taste was commendable. As expected, it is hard to make a bad dish when you have Worrak meat to work with.

    "You might be surprised to find out about my identity," Judge returned her smile, she had taken off her man disguise and the contacts, her crimson eyes exuded an aura of power, and her black hair was neatly combed to the sides.

    Seraphis swallowed the piece of meat and drank some water, "I would have liked to refute, but something tells me it is best if I don''t."

    "Well... I am a child from Drakonis house."

    Her pupils constricted, but she kept her calm, "Amber... no, definitely not her... Liam?" The reason she believed Judge was that she could tell whether he was lying or telling the truth after taking off her contacts. This was just one of the abilities of the crimson eyes of a phoenix.

    She might have known about Amber heading to Wistmere. So, for her, this whole guise was like boiling the ocean, unnecessary and impossible under all those watches. She might have guessed that Liam had somehow gotten hold of a transformation principle and ''somehow'' got out of the Land of Dragons, I heard it was hard to do, but I don''t know what to do or how hard it is to do.

    "I am neither," He cut another piece of steak and put it inside his mouth, chewing slowly and enjoying the surprised look of his master.

    "J-Judge...?"

    He did not say anything and just nodded. Seraphis could not believe her eyes (Literally), he did not lie when he said he was a Drakonis and was not the two siblings. But suddenly, she realized something, there were plenty of ways this statement could be exploited. She was just looking at the "children" from the "main family".

    There could be plenty of other people from the Drakonis family, like the older people and others from branch families that she did not pay much attention to. "Tell me you are Judge Drakonis from the main house of Drakonis."

    Judge drank some water, "I am Judge Drakonis from the main house of Drakonis." He nonchalantly said and continued his munching on the small piece of steak that was almost over. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seraphis stood up and went to the kitchen with the empty plate and glass in her hands. She was lost in what was currently going on. She taught a child who was four years old about swordsmanship and her principle about body strengthening, and the most unbelievable thing about it was the fact that her disciple had chosen an unconventional but innovative. She felt insulted and proud at the same time.

    When she turned to the shelves after washing her plate and glass, she saw her disciple coming in with his empty plate and glass. He looked at her once and understood he had to do his own dishes, which he did without complaint.

    "So, what do you know about me?" Seraphis asked as she put the plate on a drying rack, "You only told me about training inside my house, but did I tell you something about myself?"

    "Yes, you told me quite a bit about you actually." Judge was about to lie, but he knew about the crimson eyes¡ª they do not detect lies, but the speaker''s intentions when saying that. Basically speaking, someone could lie to them with good intentions toward the listener.

    "You told me about your family," He was lying to an extent, he wanted to test the waters on how much he could lie. "About your husband Corwin and your daughter Selena." He practically lied, but without any ill intentions, so this was bound to get a pass.

    "You are lying," Seraphis said without a shed of doubt, "As a Drakonis, it is normal for you to hear about the ability of a phoenix''s crimson eye to detect any ill intentions. But let me assure you that I can outright see the truth, even if you spoke without any ill intentions."

    "Ok I lied," Judge was quick to get back on track with a shocking discovery, "There was your husband and child inside the house."

    "How old was my child?"

    "That I do not know"

    "As an estimate"

    "I would say about three days," Judge wanted to shut up, but he knew better. It made him think about why he acted as if he knew her, things would have been better if he did not. He could not shake off the feeling of something forcing him to do things he did not want to do himself, and that was one of the most scary feelings a person could have¡ª being controlled and doing things you did not wish to.

    Seraphis thought for a minute, seemingly lost in what he had just told her. She then lifted her head as if she just got hold of an impressive idea, "How old were you when you were inside the dream?"

    Judge wanted to stay silent to this question, but as things had developed till this point, he had to do something to ensure his secrets were safe. "I was less than a month old."

    This statement came out as a surprise to his master, Judge could not afford to wait and let her thoughts wander, "I am an incarnation of an unknown god who lost his power, and I was born to once again ascend into a god."

    The lie detector could not find any lies in his statement, this was because what he currently said was based on some real events. Firstly, him being a "god" incarnate was taken as him being a god in the business world from his previous world. Secondly, the unknown part was because he was not known in this world, losing power was him after dying.

    Next sentence was easy, he was born again and now he seeks to attain godhood. Though he did not say his motivation for godhood was mostly because of Clio, he knew his master would assume that it was because he was a god that fell from power and wanted that power back.

    Seraphis nodded as she just uncovered the secrets of the universe, she was still baffled after what he had just told her. She could not shake off her feeling of self-importance as she had unknowingly trained a literal god. "Now that you have told me your secrets, I want to have a more ''normal'' conversation with you. Though I do not know what you call normal. You can ask me questions now, but do put that plate and glass you are holding into the drying rack."

    "Oh right..." Judge had forgotten that he had finished washing the dishes, thankfully, he had turned the water off. "Ok let me ask you this then," He said after putting the dishes on the drying rack. "Why are you here, disguised as a man, when you have a four year old daughter and a husband at home? Or is it just that you like being a mercenary and you pushed all the responsibilities onto your husband and just left?"

    "Sometimes I wish I could just pluck your tongue out, but... Yuck!" she did a fake vomit, "You have such a nasty one."

    "Well sorry if I was curious, I know there were other ways I could have asked but I like pissing you off more."

    Seraphis just shook her head, accepting the fact that her disciple was beyond saving when it came to anything that was mental. "My home..." She began as if she was trying too hard to start an epic tale at a soap opera. "... is no more!"

    Wow! What a tragic tale. Judge wiped his tears (mentally, of course¡ª he did not want to die).

    "So you mean... both your husband and child are missing?"

    "No!''

    This! He snorted (mentally, of course), sometimes I wish to just pluck her tongue out, but... yuck! He faked a vomit (... mentally). "Then where are they?"

    "Missing."

    Maybe I should try suicide instead of world domination! He thought while smiling inward.

 Chapter 127 - 127: Its that purple glow again

    Judge, though annoyed by his master, sighed and took a deep breath. " Okay, so let me get this straight. Are they missing, or are they not?"

    "..." Seraphis began to speak, but before she could, Judge interrupted.

    "Or is your child missing and your husband and you split up to search for her?" Judge made the ending purposefully longer to let her know that this was a question and not a statement.

    Seraphis thought for a second and nodded, What does she have to think about? Judge thought as the silence prevailed.

    "My child, Selena, went missing after a series of events. Those felt like a bad dream I don''t even remember what exactly happened." She sat down on the wooden stool near the table in the middle of the kitchen. "And me and Corwin decided to set off on our own paths to find her."

    Judge thought about what she just said, he could not guess what had happened with just what his master had told him, and he needed more info. "Tell me what you remember, maybe I can piece something together with all the information I have."

    "Hmm..." Seraphis went silent, Again... what is there for her to think so much? She then tapped her fingers on the table. "I think I saw a, no... two purple flashes just before she was taken away, she just disappeared right in front of us... in her crib."

    Purple flash! Judge sat up, alarmed at hearing something he was familiar with himself. Seraphis noted this shift in his stance and looked at him seriously, waiting for him to spill the beans. Normally, any mother would have been in distress after her child vanished. Judge could not help but commend her mental fortitude.

    "The two purple flashes that you saw, did they look like two eyes?"

    Seraphis nodded, "They were cold and sinister, giving me a warning not to move a muscle. I never felt so powerless."

    "Eyes huh?" Judge thought silently for a second.

    What is there for him to think? Seraphis thought.

    "I know three people who could produce such eyes. One is an assassin," He sat down, not knowing why he was standing there like that in the first place.

    "One is an assassin, a person who tried to kill my sister Amber. I could watch him with an ability of mine, it let me see things that my servants saw and wished to show me."

    "Your servants? Oh, I forgot... you are a god incarnate."

    Judge shot her a look of ''don''t ask questions in the middle of a story'', she was starting to remind him of a particular deity. "Anyway, the name of the assassin is Noel, he is a wealthy merchant from Losserado. The second person is more mysterious, she wears a long white jacket like an ethercraft researcher, at least when I saw her. Her face was covered in bandages, and she also had that purple eyes that could send chills down one''s spine.

    "I have no way to confirm her name, but I think it was... Mina" He added a pause for effect, "I could not tail her because I saw her too late and my servants could not go after her since she just vanished. But if she was Mina, I might know a way to find her residence."

    Seraphis listened in attentively, but seeing that Judge did not continue on the topic, she asked confusingly, "Who is the third person, do you not know the person''s name or place?"

    Judge looked his master dead in the eye, he looked like a marksman who was trying too seriously in a friendly match with his dog. "... It''s me"

    This! Seraphis was left flabbergasted, her own disciple had the mysterious eyes that left her powerless and took her child. She knew that he was not lying, "Do you know how or why you have those eyes?"

    To Seraphis, he was not a culprit but a clue¡ª a clue that would lead her to her beloved child. So she had to make full use of his knowledge to get close to her target.

    "Before we continue," Judge crossed his fingers, put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on the crossed fingers. "I would like to make clear a few things."

    "I am all ears."

    "One thing, please do not tell my mother about this. It would be troublesome for both of us."

    Seraphis thought for a moment before answering, "Alright, even though Eleyn is my best friend, I can''t just tell her that her child is a god incarnate."

    "Thank you," He thanked her sincerely (Yes he has some sincerity), "Next thing is that I would help you look for your daughter, but only if you help me look for the people who tried to kill my sister."

    Seraphis smiled, she could sense his lie, he does not even know that he was lying, he would have helped me regardless. She nodded, "Reasonable, yes. Do you love your sister that much?"

    "No, it is not my love for her," Judge refuted, "But it just pisses me off that someone could mess with my family and not be punished."

    The smile on Seraphis''s face widened, much to Judge''s discomfort, He''s lying again! Deep down, he loves her but he does not know? Man, I almost envy his sister for having such a reliable brother.

    "Okay then," She stopped smiling widely, but a small smirk remained on her lips. "Any other demands?"

    "None at the time."

    "Very well, let''s work that little bone of yours alright?"

    "What?!"

    Seraphis suddenly turned serious, "Let''s go somewhere secluded and have a duel first, I want to know your level."

    Judge stood up, alarmed. He hated visiting the sky every hit, but he hated going out of the house even more. Suddenly, an incandescent bulb shined in his mind, he could use his ''Divine Domain'' called Studio.

    "If you are looking for a secluded spot..." He raised his arms, "would this count?"

    Both of them suddenly got transported to an ethereal plane. There was darkness everywhere, but both of them could see each other clearly. Judge had no idea how this worked, but as the first rule of programming states "If it works, DO NOT touch it."

    "Yeah, it works," Seraphis took her sword by the scabbard.

    Ashen! He remembered its name from their very first encounter. "Aren''t you gonna ask what this place is?" He did not find it odd she didn''t ask him about it, after all, she was a battle maniac.

    "I don''t care, it''s probably some god domain or something."

    "Wow, you guessed it right from the first try, I almost took you for a cryptic woman I knew who did not know when to stop talking."

    After a slight deliberation, he continued, "You can unsheath Ashen if you want. Nobody can die here." He said it with a protesting heart, half of him did not want to say that because it would mean torture even if he could make himself not feel pain. But he still said it because he genuinely wanted to grow better.

    "Alright, I thought you might not say something like that because it would be torture. Looks as if you genuinely want to grow better." Without standing on ceremony, she unsheathed the blood-red blade, "Chi no Kiri" Immediately, thick red mist was shrouded around her.

    How does she manage to get it so correctly? Judge summoned his sword that he had put inside the studio because he did not want to go outside with a sword on his waist.

    "Meet lament, though I just named it," he said with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the tension.

    Seraphis cocked an eyebrow, tightening her grip on Ashen. "Do you name everything, or is it just your weapons?"

    "Only the ones I care about," Judge shot back.

    Seraphis chuckled. "Oh, so I should feel honored you remembered Ashen''s name."

    "Trust me, Master, your sword is unforgettable. You, however¡ª"

    Before Judge could finish his quip, Seraphis dashed forward. He immediately activated his enhanced cognition, parrying the blow to the side. He expected it to be heavy, but it was extremely light, as if she never put any strength to it.

    Judge frowned as he realized what was happening, this blow was just a farce, the real blow was from her left leg. He immediately raised and held his ankles in a last-second attempt to block the incoming blow, but it was not very effective since he felt the nostalgic sensation of flying again.

    "Interrupting me mid-sentence?" Judge quipped, steadying himself. "You really are a cryptic woman."

    "You''re too slow, Judge," Seraphis taunted. "If I''d wanted to, that strike would''ve shaved your hat clean off."

    "I don''t wear a hat, it''s a hood okay?"

    "That''s not the point I was getting at, but anyway let''s get to learning. Firstly..." She dashed forward at an incredible speed, Judge was too slow to block, but she stopped right neck. His fingers that held the hilt were bleeding, he tried to raise his sword to block the blow, but he could only lift until the hilt reached his neck.

    "Judge, take this as a preliminary judgment. Can you think extremely fast?"

    Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 128 - 128: The divine... purple eyes?!

    "Can you think extremely fast?" The words of his master repeated themselves in his mind, he did not know if he had to reveal a powerful hidden card like enhanced cognition. But then again, she had already noticed it, it would only be a few more blows before she confirmed her suspicions.

    "Yep, I can, let''s continue." There was a hidden message in what he just said¡ª don''t pry into it... respectfully. The last part was a necessary procedure he had to undertake if he wanted to live peacefully¡ª if he did not mind the occasional feelings of being a bird.

    "Use your purple eyes, I want to try fighting against them. Both of us can learn from each other then."

    "Hey I am your student, it is my right to be taught."

    "Then listen to your teacher and use the purple eyes."

    "..." Judge''s mind paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I can''t control it properly." He gave up on thinking of ways to hide it.

    "It is okay, I doubt you would be able to beat me anyway."

    Judge pursed his lips, it was unfair¡ª being attacked both physically and mentally, but he had to endure. One thing Judge learned was that runes do not work inside the Studio unless he wants them to work. So he closed his eyes and focused on making them purple, which of course, did not work.

    "I don''t know how," He sighed.

    "Try sending ether towards your eyes while not activating the cloud strider eyes."

    "I tried, but it does not work."

    "Hmm..." Seraphis twirled her blade, "do you know how you got those eyes"

    "I usually have at least a bit of information on things that are relevant to me," He shook his head, "but sadly, I am just as confused as you are."

    Seraphis was about to say something when Judge interrupted, "Wait!... I do know of something."

    "What is it?"

    "The eyes, the cold and sinister feeling you get when looking at them, I have had the same indescribable horror, but on a greater amplitude when looking at someone else." Judge nodded thoughtfully, mostly to himself. "It was inside the dream, you fought that person, but you did not show any feeling of fear or being suppressed."

    Seraphis nodded at his explanation, she had forgotten they were in the middle of a spar. "Who was it? We might be able to get clues on how to activate it."

    "Tenebris..." Judge purposefully made his voice sound deeper.

    "...who?"

    "Tenebris..." he returned to being normal.

    "No, I heard you the first time, who is this guy?"

    "He is the god of night."

    Seraphis froze, did he just say that I fought a god? I know I am powerful but isn''t that a bit unrealistic? "So you are telling me... that I fought a literal god?"

    "No"

    "Thought so," She said in a disappointed tone.

    "You fought his vessel for his descent, but let me try the eyes again, I might have a clue on how to activate it." He looked at his master, who nodded without saying anything.

    The eyes, while do not have enough clues, they might be something connected to divinity. A god was able to have the same influence as the eyes, a person from more than two thousand years ago, during the Aetas Custodis era. And also, I have blessings from an entity that stands above these ''so-called gods'', so it is safe to assume that these eyes are somehow connected to divinity.

    Judge looked at his master, instead of circulating ether throughout his body, he focused the ether inside his eyes. Nothing happened, but he could feel something was amiss. If it was all normal he could easily draw out ether from his eyes, since ether is stored within the whole body of a person and not just inside some random organ that had an unscientific name.

    He focused some of his ether into his eyes, but just as both his iris turned ashen white, he stopped the flow and started to draw ether from them.

    This time¡ª he succeeded, strange ether started to circulate throughout his body, filling him with vitality. He could feel his spirit, Solarae, who was asleep inside him churn in his sleep. But he could not come out because Judge did not let him.

    Seraphis watched as her disciple''s eyes slowly turned purple. She instantly froze, no matter how much she told herself that it was not dangerous, she could not make her body move. She even had the urge to prostrate in front of this diety. But all those feelings vanished as soon as Judge readied his sword, "I got a bit of control over it," He said as if he was driving a difficult car in a videogame.

    Seraphis also readied her sword and lunged forward thrusting the weapon toward Judge''s right shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on the two purple glows in her disciple''s eyes.

    Judge did not let his master get the better of him, he took the blow with his sword and tilted the blade slightly, redirecting the string blow to the side. He then reposted her thrust as he spun around in the direction he deflected her blade and swung the blade toward his master''s neck from the right.

    Seraphis avoided the blow by leaning back, Judge thought of punching her gut, but before he could do so¡ª her legs raised and kicked his chin, doing an over-dynamic backflip and landing gracefully, and also knocking the poor dragon child over in the process.

    Judge stood up from his ground-hugging and adjusted his jaw. Thankfully, he was a dragon and both were inside his studio. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seraphis grinned and sprang again, faking a high attack before sweeping low. Judge dodged just in time by backstepping into the air, landing almost theatrically. He pointed Lament at her, with glowing golden runes on his blade.

    "My turn."

    He charged, careening in a loose zig-zag arc. Seraphis raised Ashen to block, but Judge paused and vanished, popping up behind her in a splash of crimson. His sword shot toward her side, but she whirled, parrying just in time, the impact of their blades echoing across the ethereal plane.

    Seraphis jeered. "Nice trick," she said, breathing slightly harder. "But predictable."

    "Predictable? I call it classic." Judge smirked.

    They traded punches frantically, with each punch punctuated by a string of ridicule.

    "Is that all you''ve got?" Seraphis called out, sidestepping an overhead slash.

    "You''re surprisingly chatty for someone who''s losing," Judge retorted, dodging a red mist tendril that shot out from Ashen.

    Duels became more intense. Seraphis''s blows were precise and continuous; Judge operated on quick-footedness and uneasy feints. Every time it seemed as if Seraphis was going to come out on top, Judge would teleport or use the surroundings as leverage.

    Once, Seraphis swung Ashen in an arc that broadened and swept crimson mist over Judge. He thought fast and pushed Lament into the ground, enveloped by the golden light exploding all around him and driving back the mist.

    "Impressive, Seraphis said apparently enthralled. Did you program that into your studio?"

    "Not exactly," Judge replied, continuing to draw his blade again. "More like a ''spur of the moment'' kind of thing. Improvisational theater, but with swords and without the applause."

    Seraphis laughed. "you are either insane or a genius. I couldn''t possibly tell."

    "Why not both?"

    Once again their blades clashed, the force of the blow shaking the shadows. Judge suddenly sidestepped, letting Seraphis''s momentum carry her forward. He raised his hand and the ground beneath her turned to slick, polished ice. She slipped but managed to catch herself with Ashen, stabbing it into the ground for support.

    "You''ve been holding back on me," Seraphis said, her smirk returning as she stood.

    "Just testing the waters, Master. I do not want to embarrass you too early."

    Seraphis''s grin grew wider, a dangerous glint filling her eye. "Good. Because now I won''t feel bad about using this."

    She held up Ashen and the scarlet veils deepened into what seemed to be vast, moss-covered claws to extend for arms behind her shoulders.

    Judge blinked. "Ah. You have an Ashen-formed claw monstrosity technique. Very original. Did you come up with that name on the fly, or..."

    "Shut up and fight, Judge!"

    The claws thrust at him, and Judge barely dodged them. He called forth several shimmering, golden constructs in the shape of shields, blocking the relentless assault. One claw rammed into a shield, shattering it like glass. "Okay, I think maybe I underestimated you... a little bit though," said Judge, dancing between the strikes.

    "You think?" Seraphis said, laughing low and little with amusement and menace. "I might as well remind you that I have not even gone into half the potential of my principle."

    "Please, what could possibly happen when you use the full principle." Judge was purposefully acting like a spoiled brat in order to see his master''s full strength, the strength he would one day achieve and surpass.

    "You should try taking a job in the opera, you are good at acting. Very well, I will show you the full strength of my principle."

    How could she read my mind, is that a skill of hers?

 Chapter 129 - 129: Lesson one in survival: Know your place

    "Very well, I will show you the full strength of my principle then." Seraphis sheathed her sword and leaned forward slightly.

    Suddenly, her crimson eyes turned bright and started to exude a scarlet aura. The ground cracked involuntarily. (Of course, this was just an effect created by Judge.) She readied her sheathed sword, turning the hilt forward and gripping it tightly.

    Judge did not stand there and admire the scenery, he conjured up a thick wall and teleported far behind. He wanted to watch what happened when his master went overboard, but he did not want to get hurt in the process.

    Just as he was thinking about whether to create a clone of himself and play poker with it in order to wait for his master, the thick¡ª dark wall shattered into powder, as if it exploded from with and not of an outside force. Judge gulped, now THAT was terrifying.

    The crimson eyes devil came from behind the crumbled wall, "What? Don''t tell me you got scared of that. You said nobody can die here so that I can go all out right?" Seraphis'' voice felt ethereal, as if there were many Seraphises speaking at once. Judge knew this phenomenon, it was a sign of pushing one''s psyche to the limit¡ª this state would have a mindblowing end¡ª literally, people''s brains splatter when they push their psyche to its limit.

    "Wow, you are really a brute," He quipped, half jokingly¡ª half wanting to know whether she had gone mad. "That wall did not stand a chance."

    "Kid you really should rein in your tongue, I am virtuous enough to not mind it, but there are some scary people." She still spoke in an ethereal voice, but the temperament was the same. Judge was sure his master had not lost control. Haa, virtuous she says! Maybe she has indeed gone mad. He lampooned but he felt like she was giving advice to a four year old, which he was but it still felt insulting.

    "Alright, let us continue." Judge smiled as he drew more of the strange ether from his purple eyes. He put away the sword in his arms, he was best at guns, not swords, and this was not just training anymore.

    "Here I come then." Seraphis leaned forward, the red sword was now dripping tiny droplets of blood. She solemnly sheathed it again.

    Before their fight continued, the air around them got distorted¡ª slowly, a sky and sun came into existence, and the ground turned into soil. They now stood on a rocky plane with trees and such, it looked like a forest clearing.

    The judge''s smirk grew wider while he watched the ominous aura around Seraphis intensify. He casually flipped his twin pistols, Golden Eagle, spinning them on his fingers. "Alright, Master. Let''s see if I can keep up with your... virtue."

    Seraphis was gone before he could blink. The ground under her feet erupted, sending chunks of earth flying like cannonballs. Judge barely had time to teleport before her sword, still sheathed, slammed into the spot where he had been standing. The air rippled, and the shockwave sent him tumbling mid-teleport.

    "Whoa! You''re not even trying to hit me, are you?!" Judge yelled as he reappeared, stumbling a few feet away.

    "Of course I am," Seraphis said, Her voice sounded flat and uneven, but underneath it, there was a strong, powerful rhythm. "Just. the aftershocks are enough to keep you on your toes, aren''t they?"

    Judge growled something about "savages with swords" and pointed the two Golden Eagles at her. He unleashed twin streams of ether-impregnated projectiles. The bullets swirled in mid-air, curving unpredictably to flank her on both sides.

    Seraphis did not move. She slumped sideways, her eyes flaming like twin furnaces. The bullets paused in mid-air, quivering in suspension.

    "Cute trick," she said, and with a flick of her sheath, the bullets reversed course, speeding straight back at him.

    "Oh come on!" Judge cried as he erected a barrier of glistening ether to serve as a rampart against the hail. They hit the wall of that and exploded, and he slid back through it several feet.

    "You''re going to try a lot harder than this, kiddo," Seraphis said, her voice was heavy like a sledgehammer. She moved forward, one movement at a time, each with a deliberate crushing weight.

    Judge smirked at the added pressure. "Alright, let''s turn it up then!"

    The twin pistols in his hands vanished and he clapped his hands, the earth under their feet was now a gigantic chessboard. Immense chess pieces¡ª knights, rooks, and pawns emerged from the earth, each glowing with a faint etheric light. The pieces moved as if alive themselves, converging on Seraphis.

    She sighed. "A game? Seriously?

    The first wave of pawns charged her, their stone bodies swinging heavy arms like battering rams. Seraphis dodged the first one easily, her sheathed sword slicing out to just annihilate it in one fluid motion. A rook rolled toward her, spinning like a top, throwing razor-sharp ether shards about. She leaped with finesse, vaulting over it and landing on cat-like feet.

    Hope you weren''t in the mood for this to slow us down," she said, flicking a stone chunk off her shoulder.

    Judge laughed. "Oh no, not at all. That''s just just warming up."

    And with a snap of his fingers, the knights charged, their heads igniting with ghostly blue flames. They moved with unnatural speed, coming at her from all sides. Seraphis spun in place, her sheath cutting arcs of scarlet energy as it sliced through the knights like paper.

    "Not bad," she admitted, stepping over the shattered remains. "But you''re not really trying to hurt me, are you?"

    Judge shrugged. "Nah, I''m just testing the waters. Besides¡­" He raised a hand, and the shattered chess pieces began to reform, melding into a single, towering knight with a glowing crimson lance. "¡­the best moves come later."

    The behemoth knight charged, its lance tearing through the air with a deafening crash. Seraphis smiled, her crimson eyes narrowing. She came to meet him with her sheathed blade, and the force of their collision shot out in shockwaves, shattering nearby trees and flattening grass underfoot.

    "Not bad, not bad!" yelled the judge above the din, his voice crackly with hoarseness. "But can you handle. THIS?!""

    Again he clapped his hands, and the chessboard was gone; where it had stood reared a maelstrom of clocks and gears. The air grew full of screaming metal as great wheels and pendulums slew down to form a maze of rotating machinery.

    Seraphis paused, eyes moving across the shifting maze. "A steampunk circus now? You''re really full of surprises.".

    Judge stood atop one of the larger gears, and his pistols had somehow glowed soft, golden light. "Welcome to my domain, Master," he said. "Good luck keeping up!

    Seraphis smirked. "Oh, I don''t need luck.".

    She blurted forward, her trail smeared by the blur of motion as she dodged swinging pendulums and whirling cogs. Judge fired down at her, his shots rebounding off the machinery in unpredictable patterns. Seraphis deflected each one with her sheath, sparks lighting up the dim vortex.

    "You''re just stalling," she called out, her voice calm despite the chaos. "What''s your real plan?"

    Judge smiled. "Would you like to know?"

    With a nearly dramatic wave of his hand, the gears shifted, closing in to ensnare Seraphis in a cage of grinding metal. She paused, looking over the closing walls with a critical eye.

    "Impressive," she said, and with a negligent motion sheeled her sword. The cage imploded outwards in a glow of molten metal.

    Judge sighed. "You''re impossible."

    Seraphis stepped out of the smoke, her sheath still dripping with that eerie red aura. "And you''re predictable. Now stop playing games and fight me for real."

    The judge leaned over a little. "Oh, you want real? Fine. Let''s get real. Slamming Golden Eagle together, he collided them into one giant ether cannon. The irresistible power humming through it, and every second that was passing, made the light brighter. "Let''s see if you can handle THIS!" he shouted, firing a concentrated beam of ether straight at her. Seraphis grinned.

    "Finally." She drew her sword out of its scabbard. Scarlet blade ignited, its aura shined bright like the sun. With one single swing, she split the beam in half, the energy dispersing harmlessly around her.

    Judge stared, his jaw hanging open. "Okay, that''s just cheating."

    Seraphis laughed, clear and unrestrained. "Lesson one, kid: there''s no such thing as cheating in a real fight." S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge sighed, lowering his weapon. "Fine, you win. But next time, I''m bringing two cannons. And that was some REAL talk about using your full strength, what happened, you just shut it off?"

    His master nodded, "I could lose control and explode if it continued. And also, you clearly can''t even handle the current me, why should I go overboard?"

    Judge sighed deeply, as if he were an old Chinese philosopher rubbing his long white beard thinking about the answer to what life meant. The air around them churned again, placing them both back in the kitchen of the two-story house of Seraphis.

 Chapter 130 - 130: The Idiot, The Phoenix, and the Fine Print Conspiracy (volume 1)

    Just as her kitchen materialized around her, Seraphis sighed and turned to look at her disciples. "Okay I am confused, are you really an idiot or are you just faking it?" She paused for a brief second, "Oh wait, what am I even asking, of course, you are an idiot."

    Judge looked at the rambling phoenix, he was confused enough for the confusion to be visible on his face. "Where did that pop up from?"

    "First, let me get this clear¡ª you can imagine whatever you want into existence inside that place right?"

    "Ye-es?"

    "Which means, you can do whatever you need inside this¡ª err... studio."

    "As long as it does not hurt the guest, yes" Judge then went into a dilemma, what does it mean to attack the summoned person? There was clearly no restriction from the side of the studio when I was attacking my master.

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, "You clearly TRIED to attack me in there, are you sure about the restrictions?"

    No, I am not! He wanted to say that, but it was better to hold back on some things. "Hmm..." He took up his thinking position of pinching his chin in order to let his master know that he was thinking.

    When I think about it, I have actually checked the backside of the scrolls that Clio gave me on my first try, but she said as if I had not checked it¡ª which I believed to be true because I did not pay much attention and did not remember checking it.

    There was nothing on the back side, which meant the information that she gave me afterward was just the extended info about skills that were not present on the scrolls. This means just one thing¡ª Clio did not give me the full details about skills, and she even gave me the wrong info about Studio, who knows if the info was correct about the rest? Wait!

    The wording! The scroll did not say that I ''cannot attack people I summon'', It says I ''cannot hurt people I summon''. There is a huge difference, this means the people who enter have to be in the condition they entered or better when they leave¡ª I can attack and even kill, but I have to resurrect and make sure they are in the same condition that they entered in... or better.

    "Master," Judge looked up and stopped pinching his chin.

    "Yes," Seraphis answered as if she was waiting.

    He suddenly laughed, the self-deprecating laugh he did whenever he felt helpless and played by fate, "I sure am an idiot."

    Seraphis audibly smirked, "And you are telling me you just thought of that NOW?"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber was standing in a familiar yet unknown training ground. The place looked the same, but the air felt colder. She was wearing a tight black pant and high leather boots, a white shirt with a black jacket over it, and a white cravat embedded with a green gem.

    She was holding a dark scythe, it was red but an extremely dark red that it could be mistaken for black. Holding the blade that did not shine forward with her right hand, she stood sideways and faced in the direction of the blade.

    There stood another woman, her belly was exposed and she wore a blue full-sleeve dress over her chest which covered her neck. There was a necklace over it with a white heart-shaped stone, she wore a black pant and shoes. Her dark hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, and her ocean-blue eyes watched the scythe that amber held.

    "Let''s start," the woman said in a more aged voice that did not match her figure.

    Amber nodded and leaned in slightly, ready for the next move and on her guard for attacks, "I am in your care, master."

    Her heart was pounding as she clenched the scythe tight. Her "master" took a step forward, and the whole training grounds groaned under her presence. Amber breathed out slowly, took her stance lower, and waited for the clash.

    The woman stretched out her arm, her finger started to pulse and emitted a faint blue light. The air seemed to shimmer around her like the surface of a disturbed lake. Amber darted to the side, her boots sliding on the frosty ground, narrowly avoiding an invisible force that carved a clean groove where she had stood.

    "You have speed," the master said coolly, her tone almost bored. "But speed alone won''t save you."

    Amber lunged forward, her scythe spinning in a tight arc. The dark-red blade sang like a song of death whizzing through the air, straight for the torso of her opponent. But the master shifted effortlessly, her movements so precise that it was as if she knew the strike before Amber made it.

    A hair''s breadth from the blade. Amber''s eyes went wide as the woman countered instantly, twisting her body to deliver a spinning kick. Amber brought up the shaft of her scythe just in time to block, the force of the impact sending her sliding backward.

    "Rather impressive block," the master said, her voice carrying a hint of approval. "But you must do better than that."

    Amber clamped her teeth together, pushing her boots into the ground for balance. She swung the scythe behind her, hewing arcs of crimson in the air. She again charged, feinting hard left, then twisting all of her body to the right, swinging the scythe into a slashing diagonal chop.

    Her master did not flinch. She merely raised her glowing fingers, meeting the blade''s edge. Sparks burst forth, the sound of ether grinding against metal ringing like a chime of war. Amber pushed harder, forcing all her strength into the attack.

    "Good," the master said, her aged voice steady. "But strength without control is like a storm without rain."

    She flicked her fingers and the scythe jerked away like it was struck by an unseen hammer. Amber staggered but spun with the momentum, using the motion to launch a sweeping kick. This time, she connected, her boot brushing the edge of the master''s dress.

    "Better." The master slid back a step, almost unaffected.

    Amber wasted no time. She swung the scythe horizontally, aimed low, forcing the master to leap. As she soared she flipped the weapon, thrusting the blade upward like a spear.

    The master''s eyes gleamed bright with an approval as she twisted mid-air and barely missed the thrust. She landed graciously, her glowing hand reaching for Amber. A wave of blue energy surged toward Amber like a tidal wave.

    Amber plunged the scythe into the ground, and the dark red metal hummed as it caught the impact of the blow. Ice crept up the blade and down toward her hands. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "This is what I want to see," the master said, her smile thin and enigmatic.

    Amber roared and pushed forward, shattering the ice with sheer will. She spun the scythe in a deadly dance, her strikes becoming faster, more unpredictable. Horizontal sweeps, vertical slashes, thrusts¡ª all aimed to corner her opponent.

    But the master moved like water, flowing around every attack. She parried with her hands, redirecting Amber''s strikes, deflecting the blade by mere inches.

    "You lean too much on the scythe," the master said. "It''s an extension of you, not a crutch."

    Amber gritted her teeth, recognizing the truth in the words. She readjusted her grip, turning the weapon so the dull end led. She swung with raw force-the shaft aiming for her master''s legs.

    The master sidestepped but didn''t expect Amber to let go of the scythe. It flew past her, embedding itself in the ground. Amber lunged barehanded, and her fist pulsed faintly with a red color.

    The punch connected to her master''s fist that pulsed with a blue color, the impact caused shockwaves that ripped the ground and created a crater where they stood.

    For the first time, a faint smirk crept up onto the master''s face. "Well done."

    Amber didn''t hesitate. She turned around, swinging a backhand strike with her elbow. The master caught it fluidly, twisted Amber''s arm around, and pinned her to a lock.

    But Amber was prepared. She wrenched her whole body and came free from the hold, throwing out a spinning kick.

    The master caught her foot mid-air, holding it tight. "You''re learning."

    Amber panted, sweat dripping from her brow. She held her arm towards her scythe, and the scythe hummed behind her, responding to her call. It pulled itself from the ground and flew toward her. Amber caught it mid-swing, the blade burning with renewed energy.

    With a roar, she brought it down, forcing her master to use both hands to block the strike. This time, the impact forced the master back several paces.

    "Enough," the master finally said, lowering her hands.

    Amber froze, her scythe hovering mid-swing.

    The master nodded, a rare smile gracing her lips. "You''ve passed, for now."

    Amber straightened, her chest heaved as she caught her breath. She wiped the sweat from her brow and offered a slight bow.

    "Thank you, master," she said, her voice trembling with exhaustion and gratitude.

 Chapter 131 - 131: The giant snake(fish) who deserved more screentime

    Liam Drakonis was on a tree branch, there were countless cuts and bruises on his skin, but none were serious, they all healed slowly. He looked at the panoramic view of a large lake and a giant snake that lay dead on the shore.

    Smiling at the dead monster, he took out a Worrak skin bag and drank the stored water inside. He was supposed to be looking after his brother who also was allowed to roam the land of dragons, but unfortunately, he never saw Judge.

    He had a few guesses as to why he could not find the tiny scholar he called brother¡ª the curious artifact geek had lost his way and had gone somewhere else. But he was not worried because there were countless protective measures in both their bodies. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    They could be on the verge of death, but would be miraculously revived and be back in the house. Heck, they could even die in one hit and still find themselves back inside the Drakonis palace. The best part is the fact that all of this was prepared by his mother, but she never taught him because she knew he would not listen, that was more of Judge''s style.

    This power of revival made him remember a line he had heard from his mother long ago, "With enough preparations, she would be more powerful than any person she knew."

    Scary! He vowed to be careful not to offend his mother.

    Just as he was lost in thought, he could smell the aroma of roasted fish. He looked down and saw his sword that was used as a skewer to roast pieces of the giant fish.

    Before the age of seven, the children of the Drakonis house would not get their own weapons. He was six and used a sword as his subsidiary weapon, the weapon he used most times was a catalyst inlaid glove that his mother made for him.

    They were a pair of dark brown combat gloves with black knuckles. He had so much fun strangling this snake, better than what he had when he was slashing away at a rather large four-legged mid-predatory level monster.

    Not being able to handle the strong aroma from the snake-fish meat, he jumped down and took the skewer (Sword). He removed the first piece of meat and sprinkled a powder that was a mix of salt and various seasonings.

    It was precisely because he had this seasoning powder that he was not returning to the house, otherwise¡ª the food would taste horrible without any taste to stimulate his tongue. He was careful not to overuse or waste it, he still could stay a long time in the forest and not return home for more seasonings.

    He thought if Judge would eat unseasoned food, He might, he never was picky when it came to food, heh. Even if he is lost wanted more seasoning after using the complete bottle, he could call for Mom and she could take him back home... such a baby. He took out another piece of fish and seasoned it lightly.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Wow, I''ve got a seasoning bottle inside my luggage," Judge said to his master after rummaging through his pouch. His "luggage" contained a few catalysts, the box containing his wand, a few rune cards, a Worrak skin pouch to contain water, and the glass seasoning bottle. Why does it never break? He had no idea.

    "Then don''t take that thing out, I brought my own." Seraphis was cooking a large rabbit she caught¡ª of course, the rabbit was not just a cute little animal, they were mascots just born to irritate you and spread trouble.

    Both he and his master were, once again, inside the forest near Limdon, it was not much of a large forest, but it had its fair share of dangers inside. But the most dangerous forest would be Devfronds, Tross was a town situated just outside the outer layer of the forest, that town was people''s last stop before they headed in.

    "Master let me go hunt on my own, and why are you banning the use of guns?" Judge was like a little child throwing a tantrum, oblivious to the cruelty of the world. Nobody would say that this guy used to be a heartless manipulator, it was as if he had somehow gone back to his past state, or someone made it so.

    "Judge, how good are you with guns?" Seraphis asked as she turned the rabbit over to cook the top part.

    "I am very confident," Judge said with an air of someone overconfident about to lose an argument.

    "That is exactly why you should be using your two trusty old fists." Seraphis said with an air of someone about to win an argument.

    "Sometimes I never get what you mean," Judge stood up and brushed his back. "Are you saying that I should be using fists because I may lose my guns... Hmm

    ... A reasonable decision."

    Seralhis just stared at him, I had not even said anything, well if it works¡ª don''t touch it.

    She returned her attention to the rabbit that was being cooked.

    Judge, hoping to get some action, went a little more inside the forest but not far away from where his master stood. This was not because he was scared he would get hurt, but he was carefully not to get hurt much¡ª otherwise, his mother could find out that her little "angel" had left the place she told him not to leave- the land of dragons.

    Just as he was about to look for a fine prey, he saw a pack of wolf-like monsters, a vicious group carefully searching for food while being extremely careful about any possible predators.

    Perfect!

    Judge rushed forward, his right leg started to glow in a reddish orange light.

    With greater force his left leg kicked the ground and he leaped up with an overly dramatic spin that just screamed "anime", Seraphis wanted clap for the great show of acrobatics, but she decided to grade the show after the whole performance.

    The "great spin" in mid-air stopped just as he reached over the pack of monsters, the monsters at front and the back growled and readied themselves to attack while the ones at the middle... Well, that just growled¡ª because the middle ones in a pack are the weak children or old monsters and are protected by the young ones with enough vitality.

    Looking at the wolfs who could not attack the air, Judge slammed down his red leg towards them.

    Just as he was sure he would hit, a strong force blasted him sideways. The young dragon was send into the thick bundle of rocks a little away.

    The thick get together of rocks were "unbundled" (I don''t know if that is a word) and their get together were dispersed after too many years of being togther. Judge held his aching head and walked out of the deep hole he just created in a leisurely pace.

    "Who?" He looked at where the punch had came from, there stood a tall wolf with a long thick silver white fur that draped around its neck and on its back, the fur was tinkling with static shock and its eyes were blood red.

    Anybody can tell the monster was dangerous, it is also a cunning one, it let the weak pack go in as a bait whilst masking it as they were hunting for food. Any high level monster would ignore them as they don''t provide much in terms of "food", and the levels of monsters who attack the pack could be handled by this wolf. This was a powerful predator, it had attack power on the level of a high predator, he could lose if was not careful.

    Judge was not wearing a mask, the end of his lips crawled upward. Without the mask to hide it, anyone would think twice before messing with this "psycho". He was not scared, after all, even though it was not a proper win, he had really won against a Sky Talon¡ª a calamity class monster.

    Judge shook both his fists like a professional boxer trying to look cool. Then, both ends of his arms turned black, and a single eye of his glowed red. (These were all for effects)

    "No sword style," he said in a gruff voice, trying to imitate a certain green haired pirate in his previous world. "Dragon twister."

    Suddenly, a Strom with visible wind blades formed around the big wolf, enclosing it.

    Electricity crackled around it as it leaped forward, completely ignoring the wind blades that he made with enough flair for a whole theatrical drama.

    As it leaped forward, Judge jumped up in the air and raised his leg, solidifying the air into a giant hammer. He brought down his leg as the giant wolf jumped to the side and at him again from a different angle.

    "That would be enough!" Seraphis released a bit of her will, pinning down Judge, the giant wolf, and the wolf monster pack.

 Chapter 132 - 132:

    Judge painstakingly craned his neck upward, each muscle protesting like an old door hinge. His master, Seraphis, sat perched on a nearby rock, demonstrating what could only be described as culinary barbarism. She gnawed unapologetically on a rabbit leg, juices dripping down her fingers like she was auditioning for a wilderness survival show. Napkins? Utensils? Manners? All foreign concepts to her, apparently. The seasoning on the rabbit was so strong that the mere aroma made Judge''s eyes water¡ª assuming that wasn''t just from the pain radiating through his body.

    Meanwhile, the giant wolf-like monstrosity, aptly named a Moon Stalker, flopped around on the ground like a fish that had suddenly remembered it didn''t have legs. Every time it tried to rise, it collapsed in a heap, its massive, clawed paws clawing at the air in defiance of gravity.

    Judge forced out a strained, wheezy, and slightly bitter, "Why are you interfering? Don''t tell me I can''t defeat it."

    Seraphis paused mid-bite, her expression unreadable behind the cooked rabbit leg. She held up a single grease-slicked finger, pausing for dramatic effect like a sage bestowing great wisdom¡ª or a mom about to deliver a scolding. "Two things," she announced. "First off..." Her index finger wiggled for emphasis. "That monster is a Moon Stalker. High predator level, one of the closest monsters to be a cataclysm class. You know what that means, right? No way, no how, a snot-nosed kid like you who only knows to shoot bullets and witty remarks is beating that thing¡ª god incarnate or whatever title you''ve slapped on yourself to feel better because you are too weak."

    Judge lay there in silence. Not because her words struck a chord or made him reconsider his choices, but because he literally couldn''t move. His limbs were about as useful as overcooked noodles (at least they are still tasty to eat). So much for the awe-inspiring, godlike existence he was supposed to represent. The real tragedy here? No sarcastic retorts. He mentally filed her comments under ''things to snark about later.''

    Seraphis, unbothered by his lack of verbal sparring, raised a second finger and took another ferocious chomp out of her rabbit leg. "Second thing¡ªand this one, oh boy, this is important, so listen up¡ª" She paused to chew obnoxiously loudly, the wet sound somehow amplifying the gravity of the situation. Judge internally cringed. "Strength isn''t about how many you can kill, it''s about knowing when to not kill."

    Judge blinked. His thoughts, still fuzzy from exhaustion, came to a screeching halt. What? sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She continued, gesturing dramatically with the half-eaten rabbit leg. "That Moon Stalker wasn''t attacking for fun; it was hunting for food. Survival. You''ve got to learn this, Judge: It''s not how many you can defeat that defines your strength, but how often you choose to forgive when you could instead cause pain¡ª for strength is not measured by destruction but by restraint," pause for effect, "restraint is the hallmark of the truly powerful."

    As her words hung in the air like an unsolicited motivational speech, two immediate thoughts bubbled to the surface of Judge''s foggy brain. First thought: Wow, you sound ancient. Second thought: Where was this so-called restraint when you were pummeling me into the ground during training?

    Instinctively, he decided that sharing either thought aloud might result in him becoming the next item on her menu. Not that he could speak at the moment anyway¡ª his mouth was staging its own protest, opting for a strict "no talking" policy.

    Seraphis leaned back, satisfied like someone who''d just dropped the mic at a motivational seminar¡ª except in her case, the mic was a half-gnawed rabbit leg, and the audience was either unconscious, fleeing, or contemplating their life choices.

    Judge, lying flat on his back and questioning his own sanity, tried not to choke on the irony of her moral high ground. Restraint? Sure, coming from the woman who could probably single-handedly demolish a small kingdom if she stubbed her toe.

    The oppressive tension in the air lifted as Seraphis reclined further and her will was lifted, like a benevolent goddess after delivering divine wisdom.

    The Moon Stalker, sensing an opportunity, made a calculated retreat. It led its pack away with the kind of determination you''d expect from a monster who had just barely survived a close brush with death. Watching the creature shepherd its family to safety before making its own escape, Judge couldn''t help but feel an odd pang of admiration for it. Loyalty, leadership, and selflessness? The wolf had it all. Maybe it should''ve been delivering sermons instead of Seraphis.

    As the pack disappeared into the shadows, Judge''s mind wandered to his own life. The memories hit him like a runaway carriage, and suddenly, he was a kid again¡ª trapped in the gilded cage of his family''s wealth. Born into privilege, he was the sole heir to an empire of assets, a burden that felt heavier than Seraphis''s lectures. As a child, the mansion''s walls were suffocating, not because they were literal walls but because they represented an unending list of responsibilities, expectations, and lessons.

    Magic, the lifeblood of their civilization, was no stranger to him. But in a world where magic enhanced everything from guns to bombs to the magical equivalent of nukes, Judge was pushed toward firearms instead of his true love¡ª swords. Guns were practical, efficient, and, let''s face it, a status symbol for the ultra-rich. A sword? To his family, that was quaint, outdated, and about as fashionable as wearing socks with sandals... unless you are in Japan... or Germany... or somewhere else where wearing socks with sandals is morally legal.

    But Judge wasn''t one to be told what to love. He''d sneak away to practice with a blade whenever he could, though the lack of formal training in magical energy suited for swordplay made it an uphill battle.

    The family taught him how to effectively and efficiently use guns (Yeah he was just a five-year-old back then), but the method for using a gun was different from using other weapons. As for situations where he could not use a gun, he was taught melee close combat¡ª and the applications of magical energy were still different as it was just internal.

    Then came the day that changed everything. His mother was poisoned, and the cracks in his seemingly perfect life split wide open. The maid responsible was caught, tried, and sentenced to death. Judge still remembered her stunned reaction when the judge literally spelled out her sentence with dramatic flair. ("D-E-A-T-H S-E-N-T-E-N-C-E" "Huh?") His father, though consumed by grief, tried to keep things together for his son. But fate wasn''t done kicking the family while it was down¡ª his father, too, was poisoned shortly after.

    Then came the domino effect. His grandfather and unmarried uncle followed in quick succession. (No, the uncle didn''t die a virgin, thank you very much; he''d made sure everyone knew that detail before his untimely demise.) Suddenly, Judge was alone, the last of his family standing, heir to a fortune that felt more like a curse.

    But Judge wasn''t one to sit idly by and let life steamroll him. While the adults around him bickered over who would take charge, he had quietly begun investigating his mother''s death when the maid was sentenced to death.

    What he uncovered was a web of lies, conspiracies, and enough family drama to fuel a hundred gossip columns. One by one, the schemers responsible for his family''s downfall met their end. Some suffocated mysteriously, others found their scheming heads and bodies deciding to part ways. Judge, operating under the alias Min Jae, became a living nightmare for those who crossed him.

    By the time he completed his education, he''d earned the nickname The Gravekeeper. It wasn''t a title he''d sought out, but it fit like a glove¡ª or perhaps a sword hilt. His work wasn''t flashy, but it was effective: he sent the wicked to their rightful place¡ª six feet under. And despite his bloody past, he even managed to squeeze in some time to finally master the art of swordplay.

    Wait... swords? Judge''s train of thought screeched to a halt. Hold up. I''ve wielded a sword before. I was decent at it, too. So why am I fumbling around like some clueless rookie now? A sinking realization hit him like a poorly aimed fireball.

    From the very start, I''ve been acting like a child¡ª literally and figuratively. But why? He frowned, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking into place. I think I''ve regressed to my childhood mindset, back when I was just a sheltered kid with no blood on my hands. Before all the revenge, before the Gravekeeper.

    The epiphany wasn''t comforting. If anything, it made him feel even more absurd lying there, helpless, while Seraphis continued her philosophical rabbit-chewing marathon. I''m supposed to be cold, unmerciful, a force to be reckoned with¡ª and here I am, needing life lessons from someone who eats like she''s auditioning for a role as "barbaric queen of the meat tribe."

    He groaned internally. Maybe he''d figure it out later¡ª assuming he survived Seraphis''s restraint boot camp.

 Chapter 133 - 133: Lets go hunt some... c-cloth?

    "Master!"

    Judge''s voice croaked out like a rusty hinge being nudged open, which, frankly, wasn''t too far off from how he felt. His enthusiasm might''ve been lacking, but the volume was just enough to reach Seraphis.

    Seraphis turned towards him, her hand slick with grease and who-knows-what remnants of her culinary attempt. She gave it a mighty shake, and behold! The meaty leftovers scattered as though fearing for their very existence. Even the grease¡ª that slippery traitor that usually clings on through soap and water¡ª surrendered and fled.

    "Get over here, you whining lizard." She leaped over, grabbed him by the collar like a scolding mother cat, and dragged him back to the pathetic excuse for a campfire. Judge found himself unceremoniously seated and handed what appeared to be... meat. Blackened. Burnt to a crisp. Seasoned with enough salt to rival a sailor''s vocabulary.

    "Eat."

    Judge stared at it. It stared back. His stomach, sadly, voted for survival over dignity. With a dramatic sigh, he bit into the charred offering, the crunch echoing like gravel underfoot.

    "What?" Seraphis finally asked, her voice as sharp as the seasoning on that monstrosity.

    "I think I remember something," Judge mumbled between bites, his tone almost hopeful. "I''m pretty sure I''ve got a better handle on swords now."

    Seraphis raised a skeptical brow, inspecting him as if he''d just announced he could tame a chimera with a stick and a smile. "You don''t just learn to wield a weapon. You stumble, fail, and probably lose a few teeth, and after all that suffering, you might stop being an embarrassment."

    Judge frowned but wisely didn''t argue. He wasn''t suicidal, after all. "Alright, fine. Whatever. So¡­ what was the target again? Night dress? Evening gown? Pajama specter?"

    "It''s called a night cloth," she said, sighing as if she were dealing with an idiot. Which, to be fair, she was. "Are you sure you haven''t hit your head recently?"

    "Night cloth. Got it." Judge ignored her patronizing tone and pushed on. "Let''s hunt it down, then! Let''s march onward!"

    "Sit." Seraphis rolled her eyes so hard they practically did a full rotation. "The night cloth is a nocturnal monster. Nocturnal, as in, it only comes out at night. Right now, it''s probably napping underground, dreaming of spooking idiots like you. So sit down and stop wasting my oxygen. How dumb are you, idiot Lizard? It makes me curious how you survived till now."

    "Hey, don''t insult dragons! We''re majestic creatures of¡ª "

    "You''re just a lizard. A dumb one at that."

    Judge puffed up indignantly. "For your information, dragons are not lizards. In fact, aren''t phoenixes technically a subspecies of dragons? Like cloud striders?"

    "What?" Seraphis squinted at him, her confusion palpable. "That''s the dumbest thing I''ve ever heard, and I''ve met goblins who think spoons are hats."

    In fact, both knew that phoenixes are subspecies of dragons... like cloud striders, but Seraphis Just seemed to not like saying it.

    Seraphis put out the fire and jumped up the nearby tree in order to wait for nightfall. Judge just sat below, contemplating on his life choices once more, he felt dumber as time passed, but he could not just go on like this.

    Both leaned on the tree and watched as the sun went down the horizon. Well, Seraphis did, Judge could not see much because he was below.

    Night fell, and the pair prepared for battle. Seraphis handed Judge a gleaming silver blade, its edge was polished to perfection. Judge looked at it, then at her, eyebrows raised. "Uh, isn''t silver for, like, werewolves or vampires or... something?"

    "You really are hopeless." Seraphis groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Silver isn''t just for werewolves, and I don''t know who gave you the idea it works for vampires. It''s a universal wrecking ball for all ghost-type nasties. Ghosts, spirits, shadow monsters, and yes, your fancy night cloth. It disrupts their etheric essence or whatever mumbo jumbo the scholars like to spout. Basically, silver says, ''I see your creepy supernatural nonsense and raise you obliteration.'' Got it?"

    Judge blinked. "So, it''s like the garlic bread of weapons. Everyone likes it, but monsters hate it."

    "... strange, but let''s go with that."

    The duo ventured more into the forest, the shadows thick and oppressive. Then, a soft rustling emerged from the bushes, followed by a low, eerie hum. Seraphis stepped forward confidently, silver blade glinting in the moonlight.

    The night cloth emerged¡ª a swirling mass of inky fabric that moved as if it had a life of its own. Its edges shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and its "face" was an empty void, save for two glowing slits for eyes.

    "Uh, it''s a sheet," Judge whispered. "A spooky bed sheet."

    "It''s about to be your shroud if you don''t focus."

    The night cloth lunged, faster than expected. Judge yelped and swung wildly, his blade passing through the creature with a sizzling sound. The cloth screeched, retreating slightly.

    "See? Silver works," Seraphis smirked, darting in to deliver a precise slash that tore through the creature''s form.

    Judge, emboldened, tried a fancy spin move. Instead, he tripped over a root and landed flat on his back. The night cloth, sensing an opportunity, loomed over him.

    "Hey, I''m not laundry!" Judge shouted, flailing his blade.

    "Focus, you clumsy gecko!" Seraphis yelled, slashing through the cloth''s midsection. It screeched again, fragments of its fabric disintegrating into mist.

    After several chaotic minutes of dodging, slicing, and Judge providing unintentional comedy relief, the night cloth let out one final wail, and the cloth dissolved completely, leaving a small blob of who knows what.

    Seraphis stood over Judge, who was still sprawled on the ground. "Congratulations. You survived. Barely."

    "Teamwork," Judge wheezed. "I distracted it while you finished it off. Great plan."

    "Sure, let''s call it that." She offered him a hand, hauling him to his feet.

    As they trudged back to camp, Seraphis muttered, "Next time, try not to trip over your own tail."

    "Next time, maybe cook something that doesn''t try to fight back," Judge retorted.

    Seraphis snorted. "Next time, maybe try ''using'' a sword."

    Before Judge could whip out a witty comeback¡ª he swore it was on the tip of his tongue¡ª Seraphis froze mid-step, her sharp gaze darting to the side. Judge''s scales prickled. There it was again¡ª a sound, faint but deliberate, like a leaf crunching underfoot. Someone, or something, was moving through the woods. Slowly. Steadily. Almost trying to be inconspicuous, but he sure does not know about dragons.

    Seraphis'' instincts kicked in immediately. No assessing, no debating, just act. She swooped down, snatched up the remains of the night cloth, and turned toward Judge with a look that screamed "Don''t argue."

    "What now¡ª" Judge began, but Seraphis grabbed his collar with one hand and launched them both into the nearest tree.

    "Not this again¡­" he muttered under his breath as they ascended like a very ungraceful pair of squirrels.

    Up they went, past branches and through a maze of leaves, until they perched at the very top. Judge gracefully sat on the branch, feeling too much like an assassin on steroids. Seraphis crouched like a predator, her crimson eyes glowing faintly. Probably some fancy ethercraft to help her see better.

    "What happened to your..." Seraphis raised a hand to show him a quotation mark, " I''ve got a better handle on swords now."

    "Should I remind you that it is dark? And maybe I don''t have the skills to see in the dark?"

    Seraphis just looked at him, baffled, "Don''t you know that all dragons could see in the dark?"

    Now Judge looked confused, "What?" S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    His master sighed, "Just imaging the night being lit up, imagine that there is no darkness."

    Judge nodded seriously, he looked down and imagined it being lit up. Slowly, the darkness started to vanish, and he could see everything as good as day, even without the glare. "I can see!" He exclaimed.

    "See, easy."

    Judge turned his attention back to the ground, "Can''t you just, I don''t know, fight whatever or whoever it is?" He asked, clinging to the trunk as the tree swayed. His voice carried more hope than sense.

    Seraphis didn''t even glance at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ground below, her voice low and serious. "Didn''t your mother ever teach you that no matter how strong you think you are, there''s always someone stronger?"

    Judge nodded quickly. He wasn''t about to argue. Not when she looked like she was ready to toss him out of the tree for backtalk.

    "Good. Here''s your next lesson: don''t fight enemies unless you know and understand what you''re up against."

    Judge thought about cracking a joke, but decided against it. The last thing he needed was a lecture about how his sense of humor was weaker than his swordsmanship. Instead, he lampooned inwardly: I get it, but you''re more of a monster than most people anyway.

    "Do you know why?" she pressed.

    Judge shook his head, pretending to focus on the forest below.

    "Of course you don''t. Dumb lizard."

    He bit his tongue. Silence was his safest weapon right now.

 Chapter 134 - 134: The Headache That Roared

    "Here''s the deal." Seraphis shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing. She was lecturing him when there was an unknown enemy right below them. Wow! speak about commitment to teaching.

    "Ethercraft is only as strong as the principle behind it. It can be anything, based on creativity. Anything."

    Judge nodded, remembering the strange, almost absurd principles he''d seen before. A literal god who created a fake reality to do fake time loops, a guy who walked on air instead of just flying. Creativity would be useful as long as you are not wierd.

    "But," Seraphis continued, "because there are countless principles, there are also countless ways to counter them. Ethercrafts can work like scissors, paper, and rock. You could be the strongest out there, but if someone''s principle hard-counters yours, you''re toast. Got it?"

    "Mhm." Judge nodded again, his focus returning to the woods below.

    The forest was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. The blue moonlight trickled through the canopy, painting everything in a ghostly glow. Then, movement.

    A figure emerged from the underbrush, stepping into the clearing with an eerie confidence. They wore a long brown coat that billowed slightly, and atop their head sat a navy colored triangular hat that looked both ridiculous and ominous at the same time.

    Both Judge and his master looked at the man with a triangular hat, wondering whether he was lost and was searching for the sea or just had a weird fashion sense. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge blinked. "What is that? A scarecrow trying out a new career?"

    "Shh." Seraphis hissed, her grip tightening on her blade.

    The figure paused in the clearing, tilting his head upward as though he could sense the duo in the tree. The hat shifted slightly, revealing glowing yellow eyes that gleamed like molten gold.

    "Okay," Judge whispered. "Not a scarecrow. Definitely not a scarecrow."

    The person in the hat raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the air around him shimmered. A faint, black aura enveloped his figure, and the grass at his feet began to wilt.

    Seraphis muttered under her breath. "That''s not good."

    "Uh, care to elaborate?" Judge whispered back, his grip on the tree tightening.

    "Rot principle," she said grimly. "Everything they touch decays. Grass, wood, flesh, ether¡ª it doesn''t matter. We need to get out of here. On that note, I might need to give you lessons on how to hide your presence."

    "Great plan," Judge said, ignoring the ''lessons'' part. "Let''s just shimmy down this giant tree without touching the ground, the leaves, or anything else."

    Seraphis shot him a glare. "Would you rather stay here and wait for them to rot the whole forest, including this tree?"

    "Point taken."

    She leaped down without another word, moving like a shadow. Judge followed, albeit less gracefully, landing with a grunt.

    The figure in the hat turned toward them, their golden eyes locking onto Judge. A smile, faint but unnerving, curled across their face.

    "Well," Judge muttered. "Guess we''re about to find out if I''ve really gotten better with swords."

    "Don''t worry," Seraphis said, drawing her silver blade. "I''ll make sure to tell your mother you died valiantly. Maybe."

    "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Master," Judge muttered with a sarcastic grin that could rival a used-car salesman pitching a boat.

    He knew, deep down in the parts of his soul he''d rather not examine too closely, that her grim warning was as likely as a dragon agreeing to work as a village mail carrier. She would never let him die¡ª not because she liked him or anything, but because his mother was her best friend. Best friend¡­ Wait. Friend...

    A fuzzy, uncomfortable image of a certain guy with a red, cabernet sauvignon wine bottle floated to the front of his mind, like a fish bobbing to the surface of a murky pond. He couldn''t pin down the details¡ª what was the guy''s name again? Brad? Chad? Something punchable, for sure.

    All Judge knew was that if he ever found that particular individual, the man better have life insurance, a last will, and maybe a pre-written apology on standby. Forgiveness? Oh, not a chance.

    Before he could stew in his hatred any longer, Judge screamed.

    It wasn''t just a little yelp of surprise or even a dignified shout of "Oh no, my brain feels funky!" No, this was a full-throated, blood-curdling screech, the kind you''d expect from someone who''d just stubbed their toe on a table made entirely of spite. His hands flew to his temples, pressing as if he thought he could squeeze the pain out like juice from an overripe lemon.

    Meanwhile, Seraphis, ever the pragmatic type, looked on in mild horror. This was not part of her job description. Confused as to whether this was some elaborate performance art piece or a legitimate medical emergency, she opted for the safest course of action: scooping Judge up like a sack of traumatized potatoes.

    Without a second thought, she bolted. No dramatic monologue, no calculated plan¡ª just pure, unfiltered adrenaline and the faint hope she was running in the right direction.

    "I did not come to fight you!" a voice called out from the background, the source was the man wearing a triangular hat so impractical it would''ve been better suited as a roof for a birdhouse. His tone was somewhere between exasperation and mild amusement.

    Receiving no reply¡ª because, you know, Judge was too busy experiencing what could only be described as a migraine from the ninth circle of hell¡ª the man shrugged with the nonchalance of someone who regularly lost arguments with their cat.

    Holding his hat firmly in place, he muttered to himself, "Saphiel seems to care a great deal for his new student. What a shame, the kid looks like the kind who trips over air." He sighed, a long and theatrical affair that implied he was deeply misunderstood by the universe, before trudging off into the woods. Whatever lay ahead, he clearly didn''t expect it to involve anything more dramatic than a raccoon stealing his lunch.

    Meanwhile, Seraphis was in full panic mode, which, for her, looked an awful lot like rummaging through her back pouch with the determination of someone trying to find a phone charger in a dark room. She didn''t dare stop running or glance over her shoulder. Sure, she could fight whoever that guy was¡ªand probably win¡ªbut not with her disciple currently auditioning for Loudest Screams in the History of Screaming.

    Her frantic search came to a halt when her hand closed around something. She pulled it out triumphantly, revealing a peculiar object: a transparent globe with a dark sphere suspended in the center, encircled by two golden rings. If it looked fragile and expensive, that''s because it was, but this wasn''t the time to worry about warranties. Judge was still screeching like someone had just told him taxes were due tomorrow.

    Holding the globe aloft, Seraphis activated it. A shimmering blue light engulfed them, and the world twisted, stretched, and abruptly replaced itself with¡­ a room. An unfamiliar room, to be precise. The kind of place that screamed "classy but ominous." Judge continued his caterwauling, though now mercifully muted, as if the sound itself had been shoved through a pair of noise-canceling headphones.

    Seraphis wasted no time darting through a nearby door, returning moments later with someone who could only be described as "the poster child for formalwear." He wore a tailored suit so sharp it probably came with a warning label, complete with a high collar, waistcoat, and cravat.

    His silver-rimmed monocle gleamed under the light, and his silver hair and beard practically radiated sophistication. He looked like the kind of guy who knew exactly how many teaspoons of sugar were in your tea¡ª and judged you for it.

    Without a word, the man fished a cube from his coat pocket, tossed it in the air, and snapped his fingers. A faint white barrier shimmered into existence along the walls, and Judge''s muted screams abruptly returned to full volume. It was like unmuting a chaotic group video call you regretted joining.

    Seraphis flinched, gesturing at the still-flailing Judge. "Do you know what''s wrong with him?" she asked, the desperation in her voice cutting through the noise.

    The monocled man adjusted his accessory with the care of someone defusing a bomb. "Ah, yes. Classic case of Memoir Bane Prying."

    Seraphis blinked, her face clearly broadcasting What in the world is that supposed to mean? But she nodded anyway, because when a man with a monocle uses big words, you just nod. "And that is¡­?"

    "An extremely rare condition," he said, his tone dripping with the authority of someone who hadn''t been questioned in decades. "I haven''t seen one in nearly a century. It''s a side effect of mental ethercraft, specifically principles used to seal memories. When someone attempts to recall those sealed memories, well¡­" He gestured toward Judge, who was currently redefining ''losing your mind.'' "This happens. Fortunately, it''s not a disease. He''ll recover."

    Seraphis let out a long, relieved sigh, rubbing her temples. "Thank goodness," she muttered, and then her face got back to being serious. "For a second there, I thought I''d have to throw him into a fountain to see if that would help."

    The man raised an eyebrow, his monocle glinting ominously. "Had you done so, Seraphis, I would have billed you for the cleanup."

    "Fine," she shot back, crossing her arms. "Bill me later."

    She then looked at her disciple, just one thought ruminating in her mind¡ª Mental Ethercraft! It was the hardest type of ethercraft to create a principle out of, and also the use was limited due to the severe use of the caster''s psyche. So it was just as unpopular as it was dangerous.

 Chapter 135 - 135: Lost and Found? Nah, Just Lost

    Judge groggily opened his eyes, blinking a few times as if trying to adjust to the dim light. His headache, which earlier felt like a marching band had taken up residence in his skull, had finally packed up and left. Good riddance. However, as clarity returned, so did the memory of him.

    The guy who had betrayed him, stabbed him in the back¡ª or, wait¡ª poisoned him straight through the mouth. "Why does that sound so... off?" Judge muttered to himself, frowning at the thought.

    That guy, Seo Jun, wasn''t just a former friend. No, Seo Jun was the kind of guy you''d pick out of a crowd and say, "Yeah, he''s probably the lead in a K-drama I''ll cry over later." With his long, tussled blue hair and sharp features, he could have walked into an idol agency and signed a contract on the spot¡ª if not for one tragic flaw.

    The man was allergic to makeup. Not "oh no, my skin is sensitive" allergic; no, more like break out into hives and look like a horror movie extra allergic. And yet, even without it, he could''ve still stolen the spotlight. Typical Seo Jun.

    As Judge''s vision sharpened, his gaze fell on his master, Seraphis, who sat nearby. At first, her face looked concerned, almost¡­ worried? But as the blur cleared, her expression shifted into something more familiar: the signature "you''re so pathetic I almost pity you" look that could crush even the cockiest of egos.

    Haa¡­ Judge sighed internally. The headache must''ve caused hallucinations. For a second there, I thought she actually cared about me. Strange headache, indeed.

    "You''re awake," Seraphis said in her usual cool, detached tone, as if she hadn''t just spent the night watching over him. "Let''s head back. I''ve got a few things to discuss."

    Judge groaned as he propped himself up, his muscles protesting with every move. "Why? Did something happen?"

    "You were screaming like the child you are," she replied bluntly, standing up and moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Anyway, don''t try to remember things you might''ve forgotten."

    "Huh?" Judge froze, confusion plastered all over his face. How does she know? Wait¡ª can she actually read minds? No way¡ª right?

    "The doctor mentioned it," she said, cutting off his internal monologue. Her voice softened, almost imperceptibly, into something resembling maternal concern. It was a tone he''d only ever heard from his actual mother, and even then, it came with the underlying threat of "Don''t make me regret this."

    "You''re trying to recall memories that are sealed," she explained. "Let it go, Judge. Your past isn''t worth breaking yourself over. Let go of the need to remember. Some things are hidden for a reason, and finding them could hurt you more than you realize."

    Judge turned his head toward the open window, her words bouncing around his mind like marbles in a tin can. Outside, the world was already buzzing. Path weavers bustled along the streets, weaving intricate patterns on the cobblestones below.

    Overhead, two cloud weavers glided gracefully across the sky, likely heading for the port. The early morning light had yet to pierce through, leaving the street lit by lanterns and the faint glow of a bright half-moon hanging lazily in the blue-black sky.

    His gaze lingered on the moon, its luminescent blue hue sparking a memory. Blue... Clio... Huh? His body stiffened as the name echoed in his mind like a haunting melody he couldn''t place.

    Suddenly, pain exploded in his head like a firework display gone horribly wrong. He clutched at his temples, groaning at first, then screaming as the pain intensified. Flashes of her came to him¡ª her blue hair, that maddening smirk that could make even the devil throw up his hands and say, "I give up!" But her face? Her face was shrouded in an impenetrable fog, just out of reach.

    Her eyes¡­ yes, those piercing ice blue eyes. Her elegant, sharp nose. But no matter how hard he tried, her face wouldn''t come into focus. The more he strained to remember, the sharper the pain grew, until it felt like his skull might crack under the pressure.

    Just a single voice came to his mind, "Judge, please forget about me and live peacefully."¡ª it was something she had said.

    Seraphis sighed deeply, the sound a mix of annoyance and reluctant concern. With a snap of her fingers, she silenced her screaming disciple. "Exactly as the doctor predicted," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Of course, he''d try to remember the moment I told him not to. Stubborn fool. But¡­ it''s necessary."

    She glanced at Judge, now lying there, mercifully silent but still writhing in discomfort. "You''re going to make my job so much harder, aren''t you?" she said, shaking her head. "Well, keep it up, kid. It''s not like I have anything better to do with my life than babysit you."

    And with that, she settled back into her chair, her lips quirking into a faint smile. Because, for all her grumbling, she cared for her disciple. Not that she''d ever admit it. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Little did Judge know, he was unknowingly filling a void in Seraphis''s heart. She had lost her only daughter years ago, and for the past four years, she''d searched tirelessly for traces of her. Though she would never say it, Judge had become a child for her to look after¡ª a surrogate for the daughter she could no longer hold.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    In the serene garden of the Drakonis estate, a gazebo stood as a haven for what should have been a relaxing afternoon. Yet, the atmosphere inside was as thick as the cream in their tea. Gereon, Eleyn, and Alex were seated around a finely polished table, framed by the lush greenery of their estate. Two guards in pristine white coats stood nearby, their expressions frozen in an unwavering mix of politeness and discomfort. Bowing every time someone even glanced in their direction was apparently in their job description. (A/N: Okay, truth be told, writing like this is exhausting. What am I doing with life)

    Gereon and Alex sat on one side, sipping their tea with an intensity that suggested they were trying to outdo each other in polite sipping. Across from them, Eleyn sat with the grace of a queen, her teacup an extension of her poised demeanor. Yet, despite the idyllic setting, this tea party felt less like a family gathering and more like the prelude to a war.

    "They still can''t find him after he teleported," Gereon finally broke the silence, his voice had a hint of genuine worry. "Eleyn, it''s been days. Why don''t you just find him already? I don''t like the idea of him being out there in trouble. Who knows what kind of mess he''s landed in?"

    Eleyn barely glanced up from her teacup, her expression as calm as ever. "Judge is fine, Father. Trust me. If anything remotely dangerous happened, he''d be the first to call for help. Loudly. Possibly with tears."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, his worry momentarily eclipsed by skepticism. Alex, ever the opportunist, saw his chance to chime in. "She''s right, Dad. Unlike Liam, Judge actually inherited your knack for strategy. He''s not going to pick a fight unless he knows how to win it. Now, Liam? He''s a different story. He picks fights like he''s collecting them for a hobby, and he''s still in one piece."

    "At least Liam has his guards with him," Gereon shot back, his gaze sharp as he turned to Alex. "Judge teleported to who knows where, without so much as a goodbye, and Eleyn refuses to track him down. She could find him in minutes if she wanted to!"

    Eleyn set her cup down with a quiet clink, her tone as smooth as the tea she was savoring. "Father, I understand your concern, but Judge is trying very hard to stay hidden. I have no intention of disturbing him. He wouldn''t do something reckless. Besides, I''ve used divination. Every single outcome says he''s not in mortal danger or headed for long-term trouble."

    The reassurance did little to ease Gereon''s tension. He sighed heavily and took a long sip of his tea, reaching for a biscuit to distract himself. "I sure hope you''re right. And Liam¡­ I just hope he doesn''t break his body with all that reckless fighting of his."

    Eleyn and Alex both nodded in unison, their teacups raised in silent agreement. The atmosphere softened slightly, and for a moment, it almost seemed like the tension would dissolve entirely.

    Meanwhile, Liam was proving his grandfather''s concerns right in spectacular fashion. He was currently airborne¡ª or rather, he had been airborne. Now, he was one with a stone wall, having been slammed into it with enough force to make the masonry reconsider its life choices. His left arm hung limp, the wrist bent at an angle that suggested permanent regret. Blood and grime caked his enchanted clothes, but his fiery determination burned brighter than ever.

    Gripping his sword tightly in his one good hand, Liam raised it high, defying both pain and common sense. Across from him, his opponent¡ª a hulking demon with jagged, stone-like skin¡ª threw its head back and unleashed a guttural, mocking laugh. It was the kind of laugh that said, "You''re not walking out of this alive, buddy."

    But Liam? Liam wasn''t listening. He wasn''t here to walk away. He was here to fight, to win, or to give that demon a reason to never underestimate someone with a Drakonis surname ever again.

 Chapter 136 - 136: You Call That Cheating? Hold My Sword

    Liam groaned, pushing himself off from the jagged cave wall as pain lanced through his left arm like lightning, like a sudden burst of thunder on a sunny day. It made him instinctively look down.

    His hand had been broken in two and was just hanging there, like a broken puppet with no strings to control him. Each ragged breath he took was shallow but he forced himself onward. The demon stayed suspended mid-air before him, its blood-red eyes were just plain, no color other than red was present. There was no nose, the creepy smile was stretched to both ends of its face, and the smile revealed the sharp teeth that were laced inside.

    The creature laughed, and his chuckle echoed throughout the cavern, dripping with mockery. He twisted his head in an abnormally unnatural position, snapping his neck as if he enjoyed the sound. Liam gritted his teeth, his good hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. That monster would not get what he wanted, to be able to see Liam hesitate.

    The cavern seemed pulsing with energy as he took a running start.

    His legs burned with effort, but he refused to heed the ache. He zigzagged desperately, trying to avoid the demon''s gaze. His movements were a dance of determination and desperation, and his broken arm flopped in protest as he sprinted forward.

    The demon reached out one clawed hand, sending a volley of crimson orbs hurtling toward him. Each sphere was filled with chaotic energy, and it hissed as it streaked through the air.

    Liam ducked low, twisting his body into a roll that sent pebbles scattering. As he emerged, he pushed off the ground and leaped, narrowly dodging an orb that exploded into a fiery burst inches from where he had stood. The heat singed his boots, but he didn''t stop. Pivoting mid-air, he spun like a corkscrew, his sword arcing toward the demon.

    The blade struck a barrier of crackling energy the demon hastily conjured, and the impact sent jarring vibration up Liam''s arm as he grunted and set his teeth.

    He used the momentum to kick off the barrier and flipped backward, that agility of the action for one so injured astonished him. He skidded on his boots around the rocky floor as he gained his feet, shifting himself into position to be prepared for the next attack that came.

    The demon sneered, raising both of his hands. Black energy tore across the air around it, sharp jagged spears taking on a life of their own and hovering menacingly as they shot toward Liam in quick succession. He dashed sideways, boots scraping across the rough ground as he twisted and turned. One spear managed to graze his shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh, but he refused to back down, grunting through the pain.

    Channeling ether into his legs, Liam pushed off the ground and launched himself toward a stalactite overhead. His boots connected with the rocky surface, and he clung to it briefly, crouched like a predator.

    He let out a sharp exhale as he kicked off, somersaulting over another volley of energy spears. He swung his blade downward as he fell, releasing a crescent shaped arc of ether that sliced through the air like a comet.

    With another snarl, the demon blurred around to the left to avoid it, but the arc went across the end of its other wing. The demon, now extremely angry, let out a loud roar. Liam wanted to cover his ears, but that was not possible with a broken hand and another one with the sword.

    Liam roared in his own way, a roar that rivaled a child, and charged forward toward the demon who clearly was not in the mood to continue playing.

    When he was in range to attack, Liam pretended to go left, then twisted sharply to the right. His blade swished up in a broad arc, but the demon twisted its torso in an unnatural, jerky motion and avoided the attack.

    Undaunted, Liam spun around, finishing a powerful kick aimed at the demon''s chest. The kick connected, and the creature was knocked backward into a stalagmite with a deafening crash.

    Liam didn''t waste a second. He dashed forward like a lightning bolt in a hurry to strike twice, leaping onto a boulder and springboarding off it like a kid who just discovered trampolines. The demon, not one to admire acrobatics, growled like a grouchy neighbor and swiped at him with a claw that radiated fire energy so intense it could probably toast marshmallows from a mile away.

    Liam twisted mid-air in a move that screamed, "Look, Mom, no injuries!" narrowly avoiding the fiery swipe. With a grunt and determination that could rival a stubborn goat, he swung his sword in a dramatic overhead arc.

    The demon managed to save its neck but wasn''t quick enough to keep its arm. Plop! Off it went. Now, if losing a limb doesn''t ruin your day, what will? Losing a head? Haa that would ruin your life, no I am not joking it seriously would.

    The demon glared, its fury was palpable. Then, as if auditioning for a magician''s act, it conjured a new arm out of thick flames. Yes, thick flames, the kind that could probably double as a lava lamp if you weren''t busy fighting for your life. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Hey! That''s cheating!" Liam shouted, pointing his sword accusingly. "I''m here working with one arm broken and is hanging like a curtain, and you''re just over there like, ''Oh, let me whip up a spare!'' What gives?"

    The demon, showing a complete lack of sportsmanship (and humor), charged at Liam, its fiery claws scraping the ground. The impact sent sharp rocks flying toward him like nature''s angry confetti. Liam dodged some with the grace of a dancer, and parried others with the flair of a swordsman, but a few still managed to leave scratches. Nothing major. Yet.

    That''s when fate decided it wasn''t done messing with Liam. A sharp rock, probably thinking it was the main character, sliced through Liam''s already broken left arm, leaving him with, well, no left arm.

    Excruciating pain shot through his body like an unwanted electric current. Liam opened his mouth to scream but bit down hard on his lip instead. Blood trickled down his chin, but his eyes stayed locked on the demon, whose creepy grin remained annoyingly intact.

    Then something shifted. Liam''s emotionless face transformed, a small, menacing smile curling on his lips. It wasn''t the kind of smile you want to see on someone who just lost a limb¡ª it was the kind that made even demons reconsider their life choices. His blue hair, now streaked with blood, began to glow faintly, and his golden eyes lit up like molten fire. The air in the cave grew heavy, charged with a sense of impending doom.

    "Thanks for cutting off the excess," Liam said with a cheerfulness that was somehow more unsettling than anger. "It was getting in the way of me beating you."

    The demon''s grin twitched¡ª was that a flicker of nervousness? Impossible! It started taunting Liam, as if provoking him to make the next move.

    "Oh, you''re gonna regret that," Liam muttered, swirling his sword in a move so dramatic it belonged in a swordsmanship manual under the chapter titled Intimidation Techniques 101. With a burst of speed, he closed the distance between them, his sword glowing bright blue as it slashed through the demon''s stomach.

    Momentum carried him to the opposite cave wall, where he crouched horizontally like gravity had taken a coffee break. Using the wall as a springboard, he launched himself at the demon again, slicing clean through one of its wings. Before it could react, Liam was off again, rebounding from wall to wall like a ping-pong ball of destruction.

    The demon flailed wildly, trying to keep up with Liam''s relentless attacks. Its head spun one way, then the other, desperate to catch a glimpse of its tormentor. But Liam was everywhere and nowhere, cutting through its defenses and leaving glowing blue gashes in his wake.

    Finally, the demon stopped its frantic attempts to track him and let out a low, eerie screech¡ª so quiet it was almost a whisper. Liam''s instincts screamed at him to stop. He didn''t know what the demon was up to, but he wasn''t about to take any chances.

    He halted mid-lunge, but it was too late. A sudden blast of force hurled him across the cave like a ragdoll in a windstorm. He careened toward a blood-streaked wall, bracing for impact.

    Just before he hit, a man in a white jacket appeared out of nowhere, catching him effortlessly. The man also held Liam''s severed arm as casually as someone might hold an umbrella.

    "That will be enough, young master," the man said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority¡ª and maybe a hint of exasperation, as if this wasn''t the first time he''d had to step in and clean up a mess.

 Chapter 137 - 137: Seraphiss attempted murderâ€” tch, he still lives

    Eleyn emerged from the room, treading silently but purposeful in her steps. Outside lay two figures in a restless motion. Alex, her husband, with furrowed brows and his face etched with worry.

    Gereon, her father-in-law, his features unreadable but his silence spoke enough about what his face did not show. The tension in the hallway was almost palpable and hung in the air, like the smoke from an extinguished lantern.

    "How is he?" Alex''s voice burst out the moment she appeared, revealing the storm of worry he had been trying to hold in. Beside him, Gereon said nothing, his steady gaze fixed on Eleyn''s face, though his eyes told of thoughts twisting inward, as if his worries were tangled and uncertain.

    Eleyn took a deep breath and curved the end of her lips up into a soft smile. "The arm is all right, I''ve reattached it." Her tone was warm like the first of sunrays after a long thunderstorm. "He would be fine, he''s my boy after all. Tell me, honey. How long did it take before he came limping back on one broken arm? He went on for over a year. How long will it be for Judge?"

    Her attempt at lightheartedness did the trick. The tension etched in Alex''s features melted into a smile. The softness of Gereon''s expression was just enough to allow a small, wry grin to draw across his mouth, but his eyes lost not one whit of their haunted edge, he looked like an overworked ghost who only knew how to grin.

    "I wouldn''t care to guess," Alex replied, letting out a small, relieved laugh. "But I suppose we''ll know. Whether it be sooner or later."

    Gereon crossed his arms and spoke in a tone that was as gruff as a tall brawny guy who knew how to hide his emotions well. "And here I was, going on about myself for naught. Liam''s not a lad you need to babysit, he''s tough¡ª stubborn as a mule, just like his old grandmother. He''ll pop back." He turned on his heel and took long strides toward his office, he still had work to do. "Work doesn''t wait, not even for my grandson''s antics," he muttered, the gruff voice covering the fondness he was supposed to convey.

    Eleyn watched him go, her smile softened. Gereon''s broad back, the back of a figure still imposing despite the years, seemed to carry a weight invisible to others¡ª a burden of love, worry, and duty accumulated over a lifetime.

    For a little moment, her smile seemed to drop against her will, threatening to give over its smile to the weight of those unreadable words. But it didn''t disappear entirely. Instead, it lingered, though tinged with the quiet sadness of someone who understood too well the price of such steadfast strength.

    She looked over at Alex, who continued to stare at the back room door that was shut after she exited, and his fingers tapped out a restless beat on his leg. "He''s going to be all right," she said again, softly this time so maybe the promise would hold good for her as well. Alex nodded sympathetically, and the rigidity eased somewhat but the tension remained.

    In the silence that followed, Eleyn gave herself a moment''s reprieve, letting her thoughts wander to Liam. Strong, stubborn Liam, who even hurt probably found a way to make a joke or two. And Judge, unpredictable and enigmatic, always somehow taking the simplest moments, making them profound or just plain chaotic.

    "Stubborn as a mule," she whispered, repeating Gereon''s words, though this time her smile came back, warmer and steadier. At least if nothing else, her family''s resilience was something she could always count on, even if it gave her more gray hairs than she''d care to admit.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Cough... cough... Judge clutched his throat like it had betrayed him, his face contorting into something between a grimace and a scream. Whatever liquid atrocity Seraphis had poured down his throat felt less like medicine and more like someone had distilled the concept of "bad decisions" into a single, horrifically bitter shot.

    "You sure this isn''t poison?" he croaked, gagging. "Because if it''s not, I''m suing whoever made it. Including you."

    Seraphis leaned back, her grin smug enough to warrant its own warning label. "Don''t be dramatic. It''s an ancient remedy for clarity." S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Clarity?" Judge glared at her, still coughing. "Lady, this thing is so bitter it''s erasing the meaning of the word ''sweet'' from my vocabulary. Pretty sure I''ve achieved anti-clarity."

    "Ah," she said, as if deeply enlightened by his suffering, "then it''s working."

    Judge gave her a long, withering look, but curiosity got the better of him. "So, uh¡­ what exactly happened to me?"

    Seraphis tilted her head thoughtfully, adopting that all-too-familiar air of someone about to make something up on the spot. "Oh, you know, memory bread disorder or something." She waved her hand vaguely toward the ceiling. "Or memory muffin syndrome. Memory¡­ croissant catastrophe? I forget. I mean when do you NOT have any disorders, you are a walking red flag."

    Judge blinked, ignoring the last sentence. "You¡­ forgot... About MY memory problem?"

    "Hey," she shot back defensively, "it''s a complicated condition!"

    He rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn''t fall out. Classical you, he thought, his internal sarcasm practically oozing out.

    "Anyway," Seraphis said, clearly brushing off any guilt, "it has to do with your memories being sealed. I told you not to poke around in your past. Some things are better left¡­ unremembered."

    Her tone dropped ominously as she leaned in close, her voice suddenly as low and serious as a funeral director pitching casket upgrades. Or someone discussing nuclear launch codes. "And I mean it¡ª trying to remember could bring you harm. Not a paper cut or a stubbed toe. I''m talking real harm, like your brain exploding or your soul disintegrating. Fun stuff like that."

    Judge shuddered involuntarily, a cold chill prickling down his spine. But then, as quickly as it came, the fear melted away, replaced by his usual defiance. He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

    "Okay, okay," he muttered, "but what if I already, you know¡­ remembered something?"

    Seraphis''s eyes narrowed. "And by something, you mean¡­?"

    Judge grinned like a kid about to share the world''s worst idea. "A woman."

    She raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "A woman? Go on, then. Spill. Is she imaginary, or just unfortunate enough to know you?"

    Judge ignored the jab, diving straight into his train of thought. "Her name''s Clio. She kinda looks like my mom, but not quite."

    Seraphis frowned. "Uh¡­ elaborate?"

    "Okay, okay, so imagine my mom, but with a sharper nose, wider eyes, but also kinda closer together, same blue eyes but like a gradient of dark blue at top and light blue at the bottom¡ª"

    "Stop. Stop right there," Seraphis interrupted, holding up both hands as if to physically shield herself from his words. "are you truly attempting to describe her as though are trying to create your own mechanized puppet? Not that you are intelligent enough to create one anyway."

    "Hey, you wanted details!" Judge said defensively. "Her lips are thinner, her ears¡ª"

    "Nope, nope, I regret asking," Seraphis cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I need no detailed portrait of her, thank you¡ª her image is quite firmly etched in my mind already! Next question¡ª were you two close? Or was this just one of those creepy ''I''ve seen her in my dreams'' things?"

    Judge tilted his head thoughtfully. "Honestly? I don''t know. I think she might''ve been important. And, uh, probably the one who sealed my memories in the first place."

    "Wow," Seraphis deadpanned, leaning back. "Sounds like a keeper."

    Judge shrugged. "If she did seal my memories, she didn''t do a great job. I''m already remembering stuff." He grinned again, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Y''know, if I were sealing someone''s memories, I''d at least use industrial-grade sealing techniques. Maybe some duct tape."

    "Yeah, because that''s what memory magic is missing," Seraphis muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Duct tape."

    "Hey, don''t knock it till you''ve tried it," Judge quipped.

    Seraphis stared at him for a moment, then sighed deeply, as if reconsidering all of her life choices that had led to this conversation. "Okay, listen, just¡ª don''t try too hard to remember. You''ll regret it."

    "I''m already regretting this conversation," Judge shot back with a grin.

    "Funny," Seraphis said dryly. "I''m regretting letting you live."

    They sat in silence for a moment, the air buzzing with their usual brand of chaotic energy. Finally, Judge leaned back, rubbing his chin like a wise philosopher.

    "You know," he mused, "if Clio really did seal my memories, maybe I should find her and thank her for at least giving me something to talk about."

    Seraphis gave him a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation. "Or you could just not."

    "Where''s the fun in that?" Judge grinned.

    "Nowhere," Seraphis muttered under her breath. "Absolutely nowhere."

 Chapter 138 - 138: And she said, May thou walk upon the waters, and lo, he walked

    "DAD!" Alex barreled into Gereon''s office like a man who had just discovered free snacks at a fancy party. The servant¡ª bless their soul¡ªwalked with heavy and wobbling legs and with a small stack of papers like a circus act before giving Alex a polite nod and making a swift exit, probably hoping to avoid whatever chaos was about to unfold.

    Gereon, ever the calm patriarch, didn''t even flinch. He just kept scribbling away on his parchment like it owed him rent. Without glancing up, he muttered, "What is it, Alex? As you can see, I''m knee-deep in this paperwork, so if it''s not on fire or a siege, make it snappy."

    Alex, unfazed by his father''s lack of enthusiasm, strolled further in, already launching into his pitch like he was trying to sell him a vacation package. "So, when are we hunting down that self-important moron who thinks he killed Amber?" His tone was so calm it could''ve been mistaken for a dinner invitation¡ª except for, you know, the murderous undertone. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    That got Gereon''s attention. The quill froze mid-sentence, and he looked up slowly, his expression saying, You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention. "I was planning to handle that myself," Gereon said, emphasizing his superiority like a teacher explaining basic math to a student who had already flunked three times.

    "But as you can see, I''m rather busy." With the dramatic flair only a man of his age could pull off, he tucked his quill away inside the ink bottle, moved the paper he was writing on from the slanted board to a neat stack nearby, and stood up with the air of a man who had just solved the world''s biggest problem.

    "So," Alex said, plopping down on the cyan couch like a tired cat, "can I do it, then? You know, take the guy out, make it look stylish?" His grin was the kind that usually preceded bad decisions and long apologies.

    "No," Gereon shot back, sitting down across from him with the energy of someone ready to crush his hopes. "I''ll handle it myself¡ª end of this year."

    "Wait, what?!" Alex nearly choked on his indignation. "That''s, like, two months away! He could slip off our watch by then, grow a mustache, change his name, maybe even open a bakery or something!"

    Gereon shook his head with a mix of fatherly patience and can-you-not energy. "Two reasons why it would be okay to do it at the end of the month." He held up two fingers like a professor delivering a lecture to a particularly dense student. "One, Amber will have safely reached her school by then, and two¡ª you''re forgetting your wife."

    Alex leaned back, squinting. "What does Eleyn have to do with¡ª"

    "She already got his blood, genius," Gereon interrupted with a smirk so smug it could''ve had its own address. "Through those guards who told him about our house. So, no, he''s not shaking off anything¡ª not unless he''s also a wizard with an invisibility cloak that blocks off ritualistic tracking."

    Alex sighed like a teenager who''d just been told no to borrowing the car. He snagged one of Gereon''s cigars, earning an arched brow but no protest. Lighting it with the fire he created by snapping, he exhaled a puff of smoke and tried to sound cool. "Fine. So, what do I do now? Because, spoiler alert, the Church of Night is up to some serious nonsense. I think I should dig deeper."

    Gereon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "Oh?"

    Alex''s grin stretched wider, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Yep. Questioned a fanatic''s soul after killing him¡ª real talkative for a dead guy." He puffed on the cigar, savoring the moment like he''d just revealed the plot twist in a murder mystery. "And let me tell you, Dad, I found some very interesting info."

    Gereon leaned forward slightly, his face a mix of concern and exasperation. "Of course you did. And let me guess¡ª you plan to act on it in the most reckless way possible?"

    Alex shrugged, smirking like the cat that ate the canary. "What can I say? It''s a family tradition."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    BOOM!

    A giant rock burst into a spectacular shower of pebbles, gravel, and a weird puff of dust that made the moment oddly dramatic, like Judge had just been born from the very earth itself. Emerging from the debris with a flair no one had asked for, Judge wielded two gleaming twin blades connected by a chain. And what was he doing with them? Spinning them wildly like nunchucks in a way that screamed, I saw this in a movie once, and now I''m unstoppable.

    Perched in a nearby tree, sipping from a suspiciously unlabeled bottle, Seraphis casually shouted down, "Head towards the water, Judge! And try not to embarrass me this time. Remember what I taught you¡ª walk on the water, not sink like a bag of rocks!"

    Judge rolled his eyes so hard it''s a wonder they didn''t fall out of his head. Sure, he''d been training for weeks with the memory of swords that he remembered and could now wield swords like an action hero at the climax of a blockbuster, but his movements were... let''s just say they had the finesse of a cat chasing a laser pointer. Not graceful, but extremely effective.

    Behind him, a demon¡ª minus one tail and a leg, because Judge had been busy¡ª staggered forward in a rage. Its grotesque grin had melted into a scowl that screamed, This isn''t over, you punk! The demon lobbed blood-red spheres of fiery substance at him relentlessly, as if it could do it all day long. It was like a supernatural dodgeball game Judge had zero interest in playing.

    But Judge wasn''t having it. Spinning his blades faster than a toddler hopped up on sugar trying to swing glowsticks, he cut through the spheres midair, sending tiny explosions all around. Trees, the ground, even some innocent rocks¡ª none were safe from his destructive display. It was less a fight and more an accidental landscaping service.

    "Don''t stop spinning those swords!" Seraphis yelled again, taking a swig from her bottle. "You stop for one second, and it''s game over! And no, I''m not saving you this time!"

    "Yeah, thanks for the pep talk!" Judge shouted back, narrowly dodging another sphere that singed the edge of his coat. He couldn''t turn his back on the demon, obviously. Rule number one of fighting a raging demon: never give it a free hit. Rule number two: don''t die.

    Finally, they both reached the lake. Judge stared at the water''s surface with the enthusiasm of someone about to attempt a very dumb idea. Seraphis'' voice echoed in his mind, "You''ll never learn to walk on water if you don''t try under pressure. And if you fail... well, you''ll get wet, and the demon will probably kill you. No big deal!" What a motivational speaker, he was almost in tears.

    "Okay, here goes nothing," Judge muttered. He ran ether through his legs and planted one foot on the water''s surface, which obviously held. He grinned. "I''m doing it!" Then the second foot touched, and he immediately wobbled like a baby deer on ice.

    Meanwhile, the demon, unfazed by the spectacle, launched another volley of those glowing red orbs. "Oh, come on!" Judge groaned, zig-zagging across the lake''s surface to dodge them. It looked impressive until you realized he was flailing like someone trying not to slip on a wet floor.

    The demon wasn''t giving up either, hurling more and more spheres with the precision of a very angry pitcher. Judge, determined not to get obliterated, slashed through them, making mini firework shows with each hit. Explosions scattered water everywhere, soaking his clothes and¡ªof course¡ªhis top hat, which he''d been very proud of keeping dry until now.

    Judge gritted his teeth. He could''ve finished this fight five minutes ago if not for his master''s brilliant idea to make this a training session. "Fight the enemy on water," Seraphis had said, "It''ll be good practice." Easy for her to say; she wasn''t the one dodging demon death balls while playing Sword Ninja: Lake Edition.

    Finally, Judge stopped spinning his blades and darted to the side, dashing towards the demon in a zig-zag motion that looked both calculated and a little like he''d forgotten how to run straight. The demon hurled even more spheres, but Judge sliced through them mid-charge.

    "Keep going, Judge!" Seraphis cheered from his tree perch. "You''re almost not terrible!"

    "Oh, shut up!" Judge snapped, charging forward with renewed determination. He didn''t know if he''d win this fight or if he''d end up drenched and demon-fried, but one thing was certain¡ª this lake was never going to look the same again.

    With a deep breath, Judge stopped his advance, leaned forward slightly, let go of the handles of his blades, and held the chain. The swords left his hand and went forward due to inertia.

    He injected ether into the blade in order to activate the principle of strengthening. Then, he slammed down the twin blades with all his might.

 Chapter 139 - 139: Bow Down, Sit Down, Now Spill the Teaâ€” no not that Tea

    The peaceful, glass-like surface of the lake exploded in a cataclysmic tantrum as Judge smacked it with his thin twin blades like he was trying to spank the water for some deep-seated grievance.

    Despite their dainty appearance, the strengthening principle gave those blades the bite of an angry buzzsaw on a caffeine binge.

    Water shot skyward, not just like a geyser but like a whole pack of geysers on a group chat hyping each other up. Blinding sprays of liquid chaos hit the demon, Judge, and, heck, even Seraphis, who was chilling up in her favorite tree perch like a smug cat.

    With a flash of drama straight out of a low-budget fantasy film, light filtered through the aquatic mayhem, painting Judge in an ethereal blue glow.

    His ever-creepy smile widened to Joker-like proportions, and his eyes clouded over, going full "storm''s-a-brewing."

    Enter the perks of being a Cloud Strider. These bad boys weren''t just aesthetic¡ª they were like having X-ray vision, but only for stuff light could pierce through. Water? No problem. Fog? Child''s play. Mystery stew in your suspicious tavern meal? Unclear.

    (A/N: For the record, no, Judge couldn''t see through clothes. Light doesn''t go through people, my dudes. Unless you''re some weird jellyfish-human hybrid, and in that case, congratulations, you''re now canon in Eldris. But in case you are really talking about science, sufficient light needs to pass through the objects.)

    Back to the action. The demon, clearly unprepared for Judge''s sudden glow-up, launched a chaotic barrage of red energy orbs at Judge''s initial position. These things weren''t fireballs¡ª they were more like spicy meatballs of death.

    But Judge had already bailed on his previous position, leaving the demon looking like someone trying to swat a fly that had moved on five minutes ago.

    Meanwhile, Judge''s upgraded peepers highlighted two glowing silhouettes through the watery veil. Demon? Check. Seraphis? Double-check, perched and whistling her judgmental tune like some omnipotent referee waiting for the match to end.

    Judge zoomed in on the demon, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, look, concrete skin. Again. What is it with demons and the whole ''living brick wall'' aesthetic? Can''t one of you just be squishy and easy to stab for once?" he muttered to himself, already spinning his blades in a move that would make any ninja weeb blush.

    With the grace of a drunk ballerina and the flair of a guy who just watched too much anime, Judge gripped one blade''s tip with his fingers and swung it wildly.

    Somewhere in the multiverse, a certain flashy white-haired swordsman with three wives and kills demons might have shed a single tear of pride.

    The other blade followed, slicing through the water and demon alike with unnerving precision. Cue dramatic geyser collapse and demon disassembly. Its body fell apart like a poorly made meatloaf, spilling black, oily blood that spread across the lake''s surface in swirls of liquid goth.

    From the shore, a slow, sarcastic clap echoed.

    Clap¡­ Clap¡­ Clap!

    Seraphis, now back in her prime tree-perching position, smirked down at him. Not a drop of water dared to mar her flawless red jacket, which was annoying because Judge was drenched like a wet sponge that got dunked in a bucket for too long.

    "Nice work," she called, her voice dripping with amusement. "Though next time, maybe don''t take five minutes to slice something that barely fought back."

    Judge sighed, flicking the black gunk off his blades with a flourish. "Oh, sure. I''ll just write ''Be dead faster'' on the next demon''s to-do list, master. I''m sure they''ll comply."

    Her smirk widened. "If they don''t, I''ll be sure to grade your performance. D-minus for drama, C-plus for effort."

    Judge rolled his eyes. "And what''s the grade for saving your perch-loving body, huh?"

    "Solid B," she replied breezily. "But only because you didn''t mess up my jacket."

    Judge rolled his eyes again, but this time he did it so hard it was a wonder they didn''t pop out and roll down the lakeshore. "Gee, thanks for the solid B," he said, sounding about as enthusiastic as a guy being forced to attend his ex''s wedding.

    "You''re welcome," Seraphis replied, her voice so sugary sweet it could''ve caused cavities. It was the kind of tone that screamed ''I just googled: How to passive-aggressively make someone''s life miserable.''

    "Now, shall we get out of this soggy mess?" She dusted off an imaginary speck of dirt from her jacket, even though she was practically radiating "untouchable."

    Judge raised an eyebrow, flicking some demon blood off his boots. "Where to?"

    Seraphis cocked her head, inspecting him like a mildly interesting museum exhibit. "As much as it pains me to admit," she said, dramatically clutching her chest like she was in some soap opera, "you''ve gotten¡­ marginally better at wielding those swords."

    Judge smirked, sliding the twin blades into some void of mystery that could''ve been a magical pocket, a tiny interdimensional suitcase, or just vibes. "Oh? Do I sense¡­ praise?"

    "Don''t push it," she snapped, crossing her arms. "And anyway, we''ve got to do our next objective."

    Judge strapped his pistols tighter on his waist, giving her a sideways glance. "Which is?" S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "We''re going to find my daughter," she said, her voice softer than usual. A faint smile tugged at her lips, but it was the kind of smile you''d wear when trying to convince someone you''re fine while actively imploding inside.

    Judge groaned, running a hand through his dripping hair. "Ugh, can I at least kill one bastard before December hits? Like, just one. It''s a personal goal at this point."

    Seraphis tapped her chin, mimicking his exaggerated thinking pose. "Hmm. Which bastard are we talking about? You''ve got a whole list."

    He mimicked her right back, stroking an imaginary beard like he was auditioning for the World''s Worst Philosopher. "Oh, you know. That assassin guy who thinks he killed my sister."

    "Oh, that guy!" Seraphis perked up, her usual smirk returning with full smug glory. "Yeah, I remember. Alright, fine. Let''s deal with him first. But then it''s Selena time, you got that?"

    Judge flashed her a grin that, for once, was less serial killer and more cheeky troublemaker. "Thanks, Master. But, uh¡­ small detour first. Gotta hit the meeting."

    Seraphis''s face dropped faster than a rock in a pond. "The meeting again? Seriously? What are they even meeting about now¡ª how to make chairs comfier? Toasters more toast-efficient?"

    "I''ll be back soon," Judge said, winking. And before she could launch into her next round of complaints, he vanished, leaving only a damp patch of grass and an increasingly annoyed Seraphis.

    "Stupid meetings," she muttered, kicking at the ground like a petulant child. "He better not come back with another toaster."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "We greet god''s envoy!" The three sins and one virtue practically folded themselves in half bowing to Judge, like overly dramatic theater kids auditioning for the role of "humble servant #1." Then they flopped into their seats with all the finesse of a sack of potatoes being dumped on a couch.

    Judge, rocking his iconic red cloak and that grinning mask that screamed "I''m totally fine, but also maybe a bit murdery," gave them all a once-over. His gaze was pure dad-energy, like he was about to ask why the lights were still on in the empty hallway. "Give me the records," he said, voice so deadpan it could have flatlined.

    "Yes, master," they all chimed in, as if they''d rehearsed for weeks. Not a single one moved. Why would they? They just sent him the files directly into his brain like it was some kind of mystical Wi-Fi transfer. Judge didn''t even blink; he was already diving into the mental pile of data they''d just dumped on him.

    First on the docket? The first prince''s weekly routine. Riveting stuff, really¡ª if you found watching paint dry exciting. Thanks to his improved Enhanced Cognition (which actually got better with use), Judge could zoom through it without frying his brain like he used to. Back in the day, this would''ve left him curled up in the corner muttering about "too many details" and "why does the prince even wake up that early?"

    Next, he flicked through the highlight reel of his siblings'' week. His brother, his sister, and, oh boy, enough mortal drama to make a soap opera writer weep tears of envy. Then came the grand finale: Lucifer''s recordings. Now this was where things got spicy.

    Apparently, the assassin heads had made some groundbreaking progress on the case of "Who Tried to Murder Judge''s Sister?" Their latest jaw-dropping revelation? The assassin could shape-shift into other people.

    Judge almost facepalmed. Oh, wow, no way, shape-shifting? Groundbreaking discovery, folks. I only figured that out ages ago while yawning. Are you guys actually solving this, or just writing the assassin''s autobiography?

    But then, bam¡ª something actually useful. The guy with the triangular hat¡ª you know, the one Judge and his master had run into during that fun forest detour¡ª was making moves. Apparently, he had sent a letter to Noel Rivet, giving the whole "I''m coming to town, prepare the trumpets" vibe.

    The letter was encoded after writing, giving Judge plenty of time to look at its contents.

    Judge''s brain kicked into overdrive. If he played this right, he could squeeze some serious benefits out of this. Or at least score some amusement, which was basically the same thing in his book. Behind that ever-present grin of his mask, Judge was already scheming. Anyone watching would have immediately thought, "Yeah, I''m just gonna quietly step away and hope he''s too busy plotting to notice me."

 Chapter 140 - 140: Oh hi! Dont mind me, Just here to silence you

    Seraphis was hammering her desk, and by hammering, it was the sort of banging that made her ink pot jiggle like it was debating whether to stay or make a run for it. Her disciple¡ª clearly operating on some chaotic wavelength¡ª had left her something to puzzle over.

    And boy, did it need puzzling. The principle he had dumped in her unsuspecting hands was, frankly, a bizarre piece of work. It had more unfinished plots than a ten-season series that got canceled mid-run. But¡ª against all odds¡ª it somehow worked. Sort of. Like a rickety contraption that technically didn''t break apart¡­ yet.

    "Nihility, was it?" she muttered, squinting at the parchment like it owed her money. Judge, in his usual cryptic manner (She still wonders where he got that cryptic habit from), had said the principle was created by some genius who, in their later years, had gone completely bananas.

    The diary he''d stumbled upon apparently painted a vivid picture: the poor guy''s descent into madness was scribbled between diagrams, doodles of cats, and what Judge swore was a recipe for exploding soup.

    Of course, Judge, being Judge, had bought into the story. He was utterly convinced the principle was complete. That is, until he finally started grasping how principles actually worked. And let''s just say, once the realization hit, it was like watching someone realize they''ve been wearing their shirt backward all day.

    Seraphis, now fully invested in dissecting this cosmic joke of a principle, grabbed her pen like it was a sword and declared war on the parchment. "Alright, first off, this whole section? Garbage. Unstable garbage. Who writes this? A poet on caffeine? No, I should not insult poets." She slashed through a paragraph so long and convoluted it could''ve doubled as a legal disclaimer.

    Satisfied with her initial attack, she flicked the ruined page aside with the flair of a diva tossing her scarf. Then came the real fun. With a fresh sheet of paper and a gleam in her eye that screamed mad scientist vibes, she began jotting down what could generously be called "ideas." These ideas ranged from half-formed sentences to chaotic doodles that could''ve been anything from theoretical diagrams to avant-garde art.

    Not done yet, she grabbed yet another sheet¡ª her "theory" paper. This one was special. It was where she scribbled the big, wild, unhinged stuff. Circles, arrows, question marks, and a suspicious number of exclamation points filled the page. At some point, she paused, added a frowny face, and muttered, "Yep, that sums it up." when in fact, she had barely scratched the surface.

    Her desk? Absolute battlefield vibes now. Crumpled papers littered the surface like fallen soldiers. She leaned back in her chair, stretched with a groan, and smirked. "If this principle doesn''t kill me, the sheer comedy of this mess might."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Victor, the supposed mastermind of the assassin''s guild¡ª a man who fancied himself as a mix of philosopher, schemer, and fashion icon with that weird triangular hat¡ª was currently doing something he despised¡ª riding in a carriage over a road that felt more like a collection of holes held together by dirt.

    It wasn''t enough that the horses pulling the thing were spectral and cool (a perk of being in his line of work), but the paved road (Yes it was paved, can you believe that?) still managed to ruin the vibe with every bone-rattling bump. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Who even let roads get this bad? Did the city council just collectively decide, "You know what, assassins can deal with potholes. They''re trained for it"?

    Victor leaned against the carriage window, pretending to enjoy the scenery. Trees zipped past in a way that would''ve been soothing if he wasn''t constantly jolted by every minor pebble the wheels hit.

    Eventually, the trees thinned out, giving way to an expanse of rolling hills and flowers in colors so vibrant it was like nature was showing off.

    "Look at me!" the flowers screamed. "Aren''t I pretty? Forget your rotting people problems!" Victor glared at them. He didn''t do pretty. Pretty was for poets and birdwatchers, not for a guy who could make bread mold look like a tactical weapon.

    Still, he couldn''t entirely focus on the flowers, as distracting as they were. He had bigger problems.

    The biggest of which was his current destination: a meeting with Noel, the shapeshifter extraordinaire and, frankly, the wild card of his assassin squad.

    Noel was loyal to Victor and Master Thadd, but loyalty from a person who controls shadows came with about as much reassurance as a smile from a shark. You never really knew what they were thinking¡ª or who they were pretending to be.

    And don''t even get started on Noel''s habit of disappearing mid-conversation. One minute he''d be there, nodding politely, and the next, he''d be near a coat rack. A coat rack!

    Victor ran a hand through his hair, then adjusted his hat, the triangular brim casting a dramatic shadow over his eyes. He tried to calm himself down by going over the details of the mission.

    They were supposed to meet in a room rebooked for a week later at some no-name hotel (Room 2098, because assassins apparently needed numbers so specific they could double as lottery tickets, and the hotel''s name was Viarra... yeah).

    Noel would be there first¡ª standard protocol to let the shadow domain creator scope out any funny business. Victor would arrive shortly after, armed with the most ridiculous knock pattern anyone had ever devised.

    Three quick knocks. One heavy knock in between them right after the second knock. Two heavy knocks. Four light taps.

    And then the piece de resistance: calling out, "Stern, it is me, Selor." Who came up with this stuff? (spoiler: it was Victor). Noel probably thought it was hilarious. Victor, meanwhile, thought it made him sound like an actor in a bad play.

    (A/N: the piece de resistance is just a saying in French, meaning the most important feature)

    And the password exchange? Oh, that was even worse. Once inside, Noel was supposed to say, "What did you find at the night illuminated by the moon?" To which Victor would reply¡ª brace yourself¡ª "You fell in love with a strong man, and you married that guy. I can''t believe you''re gay. But I support all kinds of love, my friend."

    Who writes this stuff? (Again, it was solely made by Victor). Victor had half a mind to skip the line altogether, but Noel would probably see that as an assassination-worthy offense. Assassins were weirdly picky about their inside jokes.

    Speaking of which, that line wasn''t even true! Noel didn''t marry a man; his wife, Isadora Rivet, was a woman. A real, flesh-and-blood woman with no shapeshifting tendencies whatsoever.

    But apparently, humor was a vital part of assassin communication. Nothing said "trustworthy" like awkwardly joking about someone''s love life while a sword was pointed at your throat.

    Because, yes, Noel''s follow-up to the password exchange was to draw a blade and press it within an inch of Victor''s neck. If Victor didn''t immediately drop to his knees and beg for mercy like some bad street performer, the deal was off. Why couldn''t they just shake hands like normal people?

    The carriage jolted again, snapping Victor out of his thoughts. Something felt¡­ odd. The air had shifted, or was it the ether, or maybe the flowers were plotting something sinister.

    He leaned out the window, half-expecting to see a bird of prey swooping in to deliver a message. Instead, he got a big fat nothing¡ª just more hills, more flowers, and an unsettling silence.

    And then, out of absolutely nowhere, he wasn''t alone. Across from him, where no one had been moments before, a man now sat.

    Not just any man¡ª a man with white hair, dressed in a black cloak with a white mask so unnervingly cheerful it looked like it had been designed to haunt children''s dreams.

    The mask had dark, hollow eyes and a grin that practically screamed, "I know all your secrets, and I''ve got time to ruin your day."

    Victor''s heart skipped several beats, each one feeling like it might be his last. Who was this guy? How did he get here? And why did he have the aura of someone who could make grown men cry for fun?

    The man leaned back, one arm propped casually on the carriage window, like he had all the time in the world. His voice, when he spoke, was smooth but cold enough to send shivers down Victor''s spine.

    "Oh¡­ you seem worried," the man said, his words dripping with amusement. "May I know what you''re thinking? If it''s about escaping, don''t bother. I''m only here to talk."

    Victor''s mouth went dry. "Who are you?" he asked, clutching his triangular hat like it was a security blanket. His instincts screamed at him to do something¡ª anything, maybe take out that damn gun in his jacket¡ª but his brain had officially checked out, probably hiding under a metaphorical bed somewhere.

    The man tilted his head, the motion was both curious and predatory. "Ah! Apologies for the discourtesy. Let me properly introduce myself," he said, pausing just long enough to make Victor sweat. "You may call me¡­ Lucifer."

 Chapter 141 - 141: A dramatic kowtow that everyone regretted doing

    "Oh! I''m so sorry, Noel. Truly, from the deepest pits of my soul, I didn''t mean to insult your wife like that¡­" Victor dropped to the floor in a grand kowtow, pressing his forehead to the ground with the energy of a man auditioning for Desperate Idiot in Distress. The time was exactly 3:03 pm, and the entire hotel room seemed to hold its breath, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a butter knife.

    Noel stared down at Victor with the calm disdain of a parent watching their toddler throw a tantrum in public. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You know, we agreed on this ridiculous code, and yet seeing you grovel like that¡­ I regret everything."

    Victor, still on the floor, peeked up with a mischievous grin. "Regret? Oh no, my dear Noel. Regret is realizing your own genius in action! Look at us¡ª alive, un-stabbed, and shapeshifter-free. You''re welcome."

    "You''re five seconds away from being stabbed, shapeshifter or not," Noel muttered, rubbing his temple. He gestured toward the closed door. "And next time, just knock. I was literally right here. We agreed on the knocks, too."

    Victor sprang to his feet with surprising agility, brushing dust off his jacket as if his dignity could be salvaged. "Oh, come on, Noel. You''d have opened the door for a knock? Really? Don''t lie to me. You''d have spent five minutes debating whether it was me or a shapeshifter and then blamed the delay on existential dread."

    "That''s not¡ª " Noel began, only to stop, realizing Victor wasn''t entirely wrong. He crossed his arms. "Sometimes I think your loose bolts have loose bolts, Master Victor."

    Victor gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. "Loose bolts? Moi? Noel, you wound me. Just because I come up with the brilliant plan and you execute it flawlessly doesn''t mean I''m the crazy one."

    "Flawlessly?" Noel''s eyes flicked to the knife he''d nearly drawn when Victor barged in. "You realize I was this close to testing how much blood you can lose before passing out, right?"

    Victor plopped into a chair, waving dismissively. "Details, details. Besides, if a shapeshifter had tried this, you''d have been prepared. Admit it¡ª my code was foolproof!"

    Noel leaned against the table, glaring. "Your foolproof code involved me trusting you to remember to check the clock, perform an exact sequence of knocks, and then grovel like a lunatic. You''re lucky I didn''t think you were an idiot and stab you anyway."

    Victor chuckled. "Oh, Noel. That''s the beauty of it. If I were a shapeshifter, you''d have wanted to stab me, and the plan would''ve worked perfectly."

    "Or," Noel said dryly, "I''d have stabbed you just because you''re you."

    Victor grinned. "And you wonder why I don''t have a wife." sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel rolled his eyes and grabbed a glass from the nearby counter, pouring himself a generous helping of malt beer. "Speaking of plans, what''s so important that you dragged me into this circus act?"

    Victor''s playful demeanor faded as he leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You''ve heard about one of our gathering branches being destroyed, right?"

    Noel nodded, his expression sobering. "Yeah. Same branch where I picked up that commission. Oddly enough"

    Victor swirled his drink, staring into it as if it held answers. "We confirmed it wasn''t random. The enemy''s connected to the commissioner. Someone''s tying up loose ends."

    Noel downed his drink in one gulp, his brows furrowing. "To cover their tracks?"

    "Partly, but there''s more. The intermediary, Lester, still had his head intact when we found him... Although it had been long separated from the body."

    Noel raised an eyebrow. "... What a weirdly specific detail."

    Victor leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Pellen read his memories. The commissioner was a shapeshifter, but not just any shapeshifter. This one had divine power."

    Noel froze, his glass halfway to the table. His violet eyes glinted faintly as he processed the information. "Divine power? You''re sure?"

    Victor nodded grimly. "Lester recognized it because he''d been exposed to yours before."

    Noel stared at him, his thoughts racing. Divine power wasn''t just rare¡ª it was dangerous. For him, it was an anomaly, something he''d barely learned to control. The shadow domain principle that had changed his life¡ª and his eyes¡ª had brought both power and chaos.

    Victor interrupted his thoughts, his tone unusually hesitant. "Noel, this is going to get messy. I can''t promise your safety, but I still ask. Are you going to work for me?"

    Noel smirked, setting his glass down with a faint clink. "Victor, I married someone who once threw a skillet at me for forgetting our anniversary. Do you think I care about safety?"

    Victor laughed, his tension easing slightly. "Fair point. You really do have a death wish."

    "No," Noel replied, raising an empty glass as if in a toast. "I just have priorities. And right now, they involve not letting you get yourself killed before this divine shapeshifter does."

    "So does that mean you agree?"

    Noel nodded in response, "Yes."

    Victor grinned and took out a plain white mask with a smiley face, "Then wear this, it has something that would help master greatly." He then stood up. "Two days. The Capital. Be ready."

    "As always," Noel said, giving a mock bow. "Try not to trip over your own genius on the way out."

    Victor opened the door, turning back with a final grin. "You''d miss me if I did."

    Noel raised an eyebrow, but his faint smirk betrayed him. "Only because I''d have to come up with a better plan without you."

    Victor''s laugh echoed down the hallway as he vanished. Noel sighed, pouring himself another drink. "Two days¡­" he muttered, his violet eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "Just enough time to regret everything. Perfect."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Well, Master. How is it?" Judge asked, stepping out of his personal dimension, his crimson cloak swishing dramatically like he was auditioning for the lead role in a theater production no one asked for.

    Seraphis barely glanced up, her finger pointing toward the chaotic jungle of papers strewn across the table. "I adjusted a bit here and there."

    Judge squinted at the mess. "Here and there? Where exactly? It looks like someone detonated a library in here."

    Seraphis didn''t miss a beat. "Somewhere in the pile. The important bits are probably not on fire, so that''s progress."

    Judge crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "As much as it pains me to admit this," he said, with the reluctant tone of someone forced to compliment broccoli, "you might be a little¡­ uh¡­" He paused, fumbling for the right word. "Manageable?"

    "Manageable?" Seraphis repeated, raising an eyebrow.

    Judge coughed, suddenly realizing he''d wandered into dangerous territory. "I meant reliable. Reliable, Master."

    Seraphis smirked, clearly amused. "Good save, kid. Barely." She turned back to the paper battlefield. "Anyway, this scientist? Absolute genius. The principle he developed is so delicate and complex, yet easy to process. And you said he went mad in his later years? I think I know why."

    "Do you want to know something even more interesting about the guy who created this?" Judge asked with the smugness of someone holding a juicy secret.

    Seraphis rolled her eyes, heading for the door. "Hold that thought. I''m getting refreshments. Tea? Macarons? Or are you one of those people who drinks water like it''s a personality trait?"

    "Tea," Judge replied, then, after a pause, added reluctantly, "¡­Please."

    Seraphis nodded and left, leaving Judge to confront the chaos. He surveyed the room with the solemn air of someone witnessing a minor disaster. Papers were everywhere¡ª on the table, the floor, and somehow, wedged into the chandelier. A balled-up note missed the waste bin by several tragic feet, lying there as a testament to a throw that gave up halfway.

    Despite the mess, Judge felt a strange warmth settle over him. Maybe it was seeing his master, whose life had been consumed by the search for her daughter, finally throw herself into something else¡ª even if "throw" was the operative word in this paper-strewn disaster.

    Unable to resist, he followed her to the kitchen, where she was already bustling about.

    "Took you long enough," Seraphis muttered without turning around. "What was that ''interesting'' thing you were about to spill?"

    Judge slid into a chair with all the grace of a collapsing tower. "It''s not confirmed," he began, his tone conspiratorial, "but it''s definitely something to think about. I have a feeling¡ª just a hunch, really¡ª that the person who kidnapped your daughter¡­" He paused for dramatic effect, because why not? "¡­might be the daughter of the guy who created the nihility principle."

    Seraphis stopped mid-tea-pour, her hand hovering over the cup. "Excuse me?"

    "You heard me," Judge said, leaning back like he''d just delivered the punchline to a really good joke. "It''s a wild theory, but think about it¡ª what better way to use her father''s work than to¡­ you know¡­ mess with yours?"

    Seraphis set the teapot down with a clink, her expression unreadable. Then, after a long moment, she smirked. "If that''s true, I''m going to need more than macarons to get through this."

    "Same," Judge said, reaching for a macaron. "But hey, at least your mess of a life keeps things interesting."

    She threw a kitchen towel at him. "Don''t push your luck."

    Judge caught it with a grin, savoring the macaron in his other hand. For all the chaos¡ª literal and figurative¡ª this was his other home, a place with his trusted master.

    Trust...

 Chapter 142 - 142: A family drama gone wrong... horribly wrong

    Isadora Rivet, born Isadora Saight, was a child of humble beginnings, the eldest of four siblings in a family that knew nothing of wealth or excess.

    With three older siblings¡ª two sisters and a brother¡ª she learned quickly how to stretch a smile over an empty belly, how to find sunlight on even the grayest of days. Life wasn''t kind to them, but her heart made room for joy in the smallest, simplest moments.

    Her father, Derin Saight, worked tirelessly as a farmer, his hands calloused and his back bent under the weight of providing. Isadora remembered how he''d return from the fields at dusk, his shirt soaked in sweat, yet his face lit up when he saw them running toward him. Her mother, a tailor with more skill than customers, pieced together fabric scraps into dresses for her daughters and patched up clothes that were too worn to save. The Saights didn''t have much, but they had each other. That was enough¡ª until it wasn''t.

    Isadora''s childhood wasn''t filled with laughter echoing across open meadows or carefree days spent chasing butterflies. There was always work to be done. She and her sisters often sat cross-legged on the floor beside their mother, sorting buttons or threading needles, while her brother trudged out to the fields to help their father. Yet, in between the work, there were shards of happiness.

    She remembered the first time her brother boosted her up into the gnarled branches of the old willow tree behind their house. She had felt like she could touch the sky, her laughter bubbling up as he climbed up beside her. Another time, her mother had guided her tiny fingers over a scrap of cloth, teaching her to embroider a flower. The fabric was rough, and her stitches wobbly, but her mother smiled as if Isadora had sewn a masterpiece.

    One day, she had fallen from that same tree, her knee scraped raw against the dirt. Her sister, the younger but more fearless one, had rushed to her side. "Hold still," her sister had said, her small hands trembling as she tied a handkerchief around the wound. Isadora hadn''t cried¡ª not from the pain, at least¡ª but from the sight of that handkerchief. It was embroidered with a flower her sister had made, a Lunaflame, its petals a vivid blue with delicate pink edges and a fiery orange center.

    "I stitched after seeing a real flower," her sister had whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "It grows deep in the caves, and it only blooms under a full moon. Next time, I''ll show you where to find it."

    And she did. They snuck out together on the night of the full moon, their feet bare and their breaths hushed. The cave was cold and damp, but the sight of the Lunaflame was worth it. Isadora couldn''t believe something so beautiful could exist in a world that so often felt bleak.

    She promised herself to never forget that moment.

    The second visit came a month later, under another full moon. This time, her sister held her hand tighter as they wandered deeper into the cave, the flowers glowing faintly in the moonlight. But when they emerged, the air smelled wrong¡ª thick, acrid, like something had burned past recognition.

    Smoke. It rose in heavy plumes above the village, spiraling toward the night sky, where the blue moon seemed to watch silently. Isadora''s heart pounded as they ran back, their breaths uneven and sharp in the cool air. The first thing she saw was a house consumed by flames, the fire leaping from roof to roof as if eager to devour everything.

    The streets were unrecognizable, a patchwork of crimson and ash. Bodies¡ª people she had known her whole life¡ª lay sprawled in grotesque silence, their faces frozen in horror. Her father''s fields, once so full of life, were charred black. Her mother''s sewing table, where so many memories had been stitched together, was nothing but splinters.

    Her siblings clung to her, sobbing, but she could barely hear them over the roar of the flames and the pounding of her own heart. Somewhere in the distance, the Lunaflame flowers still bloomed, untouched by the chaos. She wondered if they could feel her grief, if they understood what it meant to lose everything.

    By morning, the village was gone. So was her family, only she and her sister remained.

    The scene of the street decorated with mutilated corpses and flooded with crimson-colored blood was etched into her mind. The blood seemed to bloom under the moonlight.

    The Lunaflame was supposed to be a promise of hope. Now it felt like a grave marker, glowing quietly in a world that doesn''t deserve it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Isadora slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurry for a moment before the familiar sight of the living room came into focus. The soft crackle of the fireplace reached her ears, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

    It was the living room in her mansion, warm and quiet. She lay on the plush couch, her head resting gently on her husband Noel Rivet''s lap. His hand moved through her hair with slow, tender strokes, the rhythm calming and familiar.

    She closed her eyes again, leaning into his touch, as if his hand alone could shield her from the cruel, unpredictable world outside. The warmth she felt wasn''t just physical¡ª it was the kind that reached deep into her soul, pulling her back from the edges of despair.

    It was love, raw and unyielding, the kind that made her chest ache because she knew it couldn''t last forever. Nothing ever did. Life had taught her that lesson too many times. So she clung to these moments, drinking them in like they were the last drops of water in a desert.

    Her throat tightened, and her heart weighed heavy with unspoken fears. She turned her head, her eyes searching his face, every line and curve, committing them to memory as if she feared he might vanish the moment she looked away.

    Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, clutching at him like he was her anchor in a storm.

    "You''re going again, aren''t you?" Her voice broke, the words trembling as they left her lips.

    Noel''s hand stilled in her hair. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression shifting from surprise to quiet understanding. He cupped the back of her head gently, pulling her closer as his other arm encircled her. "I would love to go alone," he murmured, his voice soft but steady. "That would be safer¡­ for you."

    Her chest tightened further. "Don''t speak about my safety," she whispered fiercely, burying her face in his chest, her voice muffled but laced with worry. "Do you even know how much I worry about you? Every time you leave, I feel like I''m holding my breath, waiting for the day I won''t see you come back." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she clenched her fists against his shirt.

    Noel let out a long sigh, his voice calm but tinged with something heavy¡ª regret? Resolve? "I was going to ask you to come with me this time."

    Isadora pulled back abruptly, her wide eyes locking onto his. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. "I can?"

    "Yes, Dor," he said, using her nickname with the affection that always melted her defenses. He shifted, helping her sit up beside him. "The mission is dangerous, but... it''s safer if you''re by my side. There''s a shapeshifter among the enemies. I can''t risk not knowing if you''re safe."

    Her breath hitched, but she nodded, her fear overshadowed by determination. "I understand," she said quickly, her voice a mix of relief and worry.

    Noel stood up, the warmth of his presence momentarily leaving her. He reached out to take her hand in his, his expression somber. "My love, I need you to truly understand. This isn''t just dangerous¡ª it''s life and death. We could die."

    Her gaze hardened, the worry in her eyes replaced by a quiet resolve. "I understand," she repeated, her voice steadier this time, though it carried less of the enthusiasm she had moments before.

    He studied her for a long moment, then exhaled softly. "Then I ask¡ª would you work for me? with me?" he said, his tone almost pleading. "Help me finish this mission quickly. Together, we might stand a chance."

    The light from the chandelier above caught the glint of a simple, unassuming ring on his finger. He reached into his coat and pulled out a plain white mask painted with a smiley face. "Victor said this would help. Master believes it might give us an edge."

    Isadora took the mask without hesitation, running her fingers over its surface. "Master Thadd?" she asked with a faint smirk, a small flicker of humor breaking through her worry.

    "Which other master do you think Victor or I would serve?" Noel teased gently, his lips quirking up as he pulled her into another embrace. The weight of the mask in her hand felt heavy, not because of its size but because of what it symbolized.

    Her arms tightened around him as she whispered, "I would never hide. Not now. Not ever. No matter how dangerous it gets, I''ll always stand by you." Her voice softened, but it carried a steel edge of resolve. "So yes, Noel. I''ll work with you... FOR you."

    He sighed, relief flickering in his eyes, and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you, Dor." The words were simple, but the way he said them made her heart ache all over again. For now, they had each other. And for now, that was enough.

 Chapter 143 - 143: Why the Ice Box Deserves a Medal

    Seraphis lounged on the creaky chair, sipping her tea like it was the last drop of sanity she had left in this world. The sunset bathed her face in warm hues, but her mood? Oh, it was anything but warm. Judge had taken himself off to buy groceries hours ago¡ª or so she thought¡ª and her patience was thinner than a sheet of paper in a shredder.

    She tapped her foot, muttering under her breath. "Two hours. Two whole hours. What''s he doing? Raising the chickens himself? Starting a vegetable farm? Negotiating peace treaties with the cows?"

    Spoiler alert: it had not, in fact, been two hours. It had been about 50 minutes, give or take. But Seraphis, the proud owner of zero common sense when it came to checking clocks, had never cared for those silly circles with numbers. Her relationship with time was as complicated as Judge''s with groceries.

    As if summoned by her rising irritation, Judge burst through the door, his red cloak fluttering dramatically. "I''m home!" he announced like he''d just returned from slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. "Master, I got chicken instead of ham."

    Her teacup met the table with a slam that could''ve cracked the wood. "Where the hell have you been?" she growled, low and ominous like a storm about to let loose.

    Judge froze. "W-well, Master, if you don''t like chicken, I can, uh, go back and¡ª "

    "That''s not the problem, you brainless bean sprout!" she snapped. "I said, where have you been for TWO HOURS?!"

    Judge blinked. Then he blinked again. The boy had mastered the fine art of looking like a clueless puppy caught chewing the furniture. "Um, Master¡­" He placed the groceries gingerly on the table, as if they might explode. "It''s only been, like, 55 minutes. Tops. Look at the clock. 3:25 to 4:15. Even I know that''s not two hours, and math isn''t exactly my strong suit." He flashed a sheepish grin, not knowing he messed up the numbers. "Master, you should really learn how to, y''know, read time."

    Seraphis glared, her cheeks reddening ever so slightly. For a moment, she looked ready to punt him into next week. Then, with all the grace of someone realizing they''d been caught out, she lowered her head and muttered, "Shut up."

    Judge, being the gracious winner that he was, didn''t push it. Instead, he waltzed over to the enchanted ice box¡ª a steampunk refrigerator that was the pride of any mage''s kitchen¡ª and carefully stored the chicken. The poor guy was practically humming with relief that he wasn''t a splatter on the wall yet.

    Then, because Judge had a knack for stirring up trouble when the dust was just about to settle, he said, "The plan is proceeding smoothly, Master."

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, her cup halfway to her lips. "The plan? Oh, you mean the vague nonsense you tried to explain earlier. Care to remind me? Something about ''a few talks''? Because from where I''m sitting, your knack for words usually just gets us into fistfights."

    Judge grinned, the kind of grin that screamed trust me, I''ve got this¡ª which, of course, meant everything was about to go spectacularly wrong. "Master, words are power," he said, stroking an imaginary beard like he was Confucius reborn. "They''re like tiny sparks. On their own, harmless. But depending on where they land? BOOM. Wildfire. Explosion. Chaos."

    "Or they fizzle out and do nothing," Seraphis deadpanned, rolling her eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

    "Details, Master, details." Judge waved her skepticism away like a particularly annoying fly. "Now, let me tell you about the time I convinced a guard that chickens were the reincarnation of ancient warriors¡ª "

    "Shut up with your supposed-to-be-funny stories." Seraphis got up with her empty glass.

    "And you always laugh when I tell them, master."

    "Shut up, I will make sure to give you extra bits of training."

    "What?! Why?"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The massive indoor training ground of the Wistmere Drakonis house was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of ether-infused torches lining the walls. This space was usually reserved for serious, epic-level training that shaped warriors, leaders, and legends. Today, however, it was occupied by one fiery, frustrated teenager who had the grace of a stomping toddler.

    Amber paced back and forth like a caged wyvern, her black full-body suit squeaking slightly with every exaggerated movement. It clung to her like a second skin, making her feel more like an overstuffed sausage than a noble dragon-in-training. "I hate this suit! I feel like I''m about to enter a diving competition or something!"

    Her master, the epitome of calm and composure, sat on a marble bench nearby, one leg crossed over the other. Black-haired and blue-eyed, she looked like she had just stepped out of a painting¡ª and was completely unfazed by Amber''s tantrum. "Amber, focus. You''re here to learn how to transform into a wyvern, not complain about your wardrobe."

    Amber stopped mid-pace, pointing a dramatic finger at her. "Easy for you to say, Master. You''re not the one waddling around like a... a¡­ slippery eel! And WHY do I even need to wear this thing?!"

    Her master smirked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to remind Amber of her not-so-glorious moment. "Do you remember what happened during your first transformation attempt?"

    Amber''s face turned a lovely shade of crimson. "Don''t. You. Dare."

    "Oh, but I must." Her master stood, arms crossed, delivering the tale with the precision of a bard recounting a comedy epic. "You stood there, full of confidence, channeling ether like you owned the world. And then POOF! There you were, a magnificent dragon... and there your dress went, shredded into a million pieces."

    Amber groaned loudly, covering her face with both hands. "It wasn''t that bad."

    "It was so bad," her master continued, undeterred. "I had to shoo the servants away because you were essentially a giant, naked dragon. The suit is enchanted to stretch and reform with your transformations. Consider it a gift to save your dignity."

    "Dignity?!" Amber squeaked. "You mean my lack of it!"

    Her master simply raised an eyebrow. "Shall we get back to training, or would you prefer to relive that memory a little longer?"

    Amber, now thoroughly mortified, stomped back to the center of the training ground. "Fine. But just so you know, I''m doing this under protest."

    "Noted."

    Amber stood still, trying to channel her focus. The goal was simple, at least in theory: transform into a wyvern. Not a dragon. A wyvern. Dragons were the Drakonis family''s true form, but sometimes a little disguise came in handy, and wyverns were less conspicuous.

    Her master''s voice echoed across the hall, calm yet commanding. "Now, remember: the key to transformation is visualization. Picture yourself as a wyvern¡ª smaller, less grand, but still elegant. Channel your ether carefully. You''ve done this as a dragon; this should be no different."

    Amber rolled her eyes, muttering, "No different, she says. Easy for her to say when she''s not the one doing it."

    "What was that?" her master called.

    "Nothing, Master!" Amber squeaked, forcing a smile.

    Closing her eyes, Amber began to focus. She felt the ether coursing through her veins, a warm, buzzing sensation that she guided toward her limbs. Her body began to shift, bones cracking and muscles reforming.

    And then... BOOM.

    Amber hit the ground, groaning. She hadn''t transformed into anything. Instead, she''d managed to create a small explosion of ether that left her hair sticking up like she''d been struck by lightning.

    Her master sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Amber, what did I just say about careful channeling?"

    "I was careful!" Amber shot back, shaking her hands as if trying to dispel the leftover static. "It''s just¡ª ugh¡ª this is so much harder than turning into a dragon! And this cloth is making this worse, why do I have to wear this?"

    "That''s because you''re not yet proficient in the full principle that merges your clothes with your skin. But it is much more complex." her master explained patiently. "Transforming into a wyvern requires a different kind of focus. It''s not your true form, so it doesn''t come as naturally. You''re essentially tricking your own essence into becoming something it''s not."

    Amber groaned again, flopping onto the ground. "Why can''t you just teach me the whole principle now? Wouldn''t that make this so much easier?"

    "You make too much haste Amber, it is not a good habit." Her master knelt beside her, her expression softening slightly. "A sword rushed in its forging may look sharp, but it will shatter in the first clash. True strength comes from fire and the steady rhythm of the hammer, each strike refining and hardening it. Remember this: only through patience and persistence can something endure the trials it was meant to face.

    "Both will make way for more trials, but a refined blade helps you while a broken blade betrays you."

    Amber stared blankly. "Cool metaphor, Master. Very deep. But what does that have to do with me not turning into a wyvern?"

    Her master sighed, standing up again. "It means you need patience. True strength comes from persistence and refinement. Rushing only leads to mistakes¡ª and, in your case, explosions."

    Amber grumbled something under her breath but got back on her feet. "Fine. I''ll try again. But if I blow up again, I''m blaming you."

    Her master chuckled, returning to her bench. "By all means."

    Amber took a deep breath, this time muttering a mantra to herself. "Slowly. Carefully. Don''t blow up. Slowly. Carefully. Don''t blow up¡­"

    She channeled her ether again, guiding it through her body. This time, she felt something shift. Her limbs began to change, her vision sharpened, and she felt¡­ lighter?

    But when she opened her eyes, she wasn''t a wyvern. She was a¡­ half-dragon, half-wyvern mess. One wing was draconic, the other wyvern-like, and her tail? It looked like it belonged to a lizard.

    Her master burst out laughing, a rare break in her usual composure. "Amber, you look like a chimera that lost a bet."

    Amber glared at her. "Not helping, Master!"

    "You''re getting closer," her master said, still chuckling. "Try again."

    Amber took another deep breath, more determined than ever. "Okay, Amber. You''ve got this. Third time''s the charm. Just picture the wyvern. Be the wyvern."

    She channeled her ether once more, this time slower than before. She visualized every detail of a wyvern: the slender frame, the two legs, the smaller wings. She felt her body shift again, and this time, it felt¡­ right.

    When she opened her eyes, she saw the ground from a lower perspective. Her limbs were thinner, her wings smaller¡ª but proportional¡ª and her tail swayed gracefully behind her.

    "I did it?" she whispered, almost afraid to believe it. "I DID IT!"

    Her master clapped, her smile returning to its usual calm demeanor. "Congratulations, Amber. You''ve successfully transformed into a wyvern. And in just two days¡ª impressive."

    Amber beamed, preening in her new form. But her master wasn''t done.

    "However," she added, "until you learn the full principle, you''ll still risk tearing your clothes every time you transform. That suit will only save you so many times." sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Amber groaned, shifting back into her human form. "Great. So I''ve got more homework?"

    Her master smirked. "Consider it an opportunity for growth."

    Amber flopped onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling. "I swear, being a dragon is so much easier."

    Her master chuckled, patting her on the head. "You''ll thank me later."

    Amber muttered something about dubious blessings but secretly felt a small flicker of pride. She''d done it¡ª awkwardly, explosively, but she''d done it. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to stop tearing her clothes and blowing herself up. No big deal¡­ right?

 Chapter 144 - 144: Safe? Or Just Safely Ignored?

    The checkered violet and blue carriage creaked and swayed as it trundled along the cobblestone streets. Inside, Noel Rivet sat with his arms crossed, his face the very picture of calm, as though he hadn''t just yanked his wife, Isadora, out of her afternoon plans and stuffed her into the carriage with nothing more than a clipped, "It''s today."

    Opposite him, Isadora sat with a stiffness that rivaled a suit of armor, her red and black dress puffing indignantly with every deep, exasperated breath she took. She stared at Noel, daring him to meet her eyes, but he was too busy looking out the window as if the passing scenery were the most fascinating thing in the world.

    Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she spoke. "So, you''re not even going to explain what this is about?"

    Noel glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the window. "I told you. Work."

    "Work," she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Right. Because work is such a thorough explanation. What kind of work, Noel? And why does it involve me being dragged halfway across the country without so much as a warning? You just told me yesterday to work FOR YOU... WITH YOU. Now you are telling me I can''t work with you because of what? MY safety?"

    He sighed, the kind of long-suffering exhalation that suggested he''d already had this conversation in his head and was tired of it before it even began. "It''s complicated."

    Isadora snorted. "Oh, it''s complicated. How convenient. Does ''complicated'' mean you can''t be bothered to explain, or are you just trying to keep me in the dark?"

    Noel finally turned to face her, his expression carefully neutral. "It means it''s something I need to handle without distractions."

    Her jaw dropped. "Distractions? That''s what I am to you now? A distraction?"

    He rubbed his temple, a flicker of frustration breaking through his calm facade. "Isadora, don''t twist my words. You know that''s not what I meant."

    "Do I?" she shot back. "Because it sure sounds like you''re saying I''m in the way. That you''d rather do whatever this is without me slowing you down."

    Noel pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every life choice that had led to this moment. "You''re reading too much into this. I''m trying to keep you safe."

    "Safe," she repeated, her voice rising. "You keep using that word like it explains everything, but it doesn''t! I don''t need you to keep me safe, Noel. I''m not some fragile damsel in distress that you have to protect! I am a trained assassin if you now at least a bit about me. I could take out a whole room with guys by the time you finished cleaning your shoes."

    "It''s not about fragility," he said, his tone measured, as if he were explaining something to a particularly stubborn child. "It''s about priorities. My job is dangerous. If you''re involved, I have to split my focus between the mission and worrying about you. That''s not practical."

    Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushing with anger. "So I''m a liability now? Is that what you''re saying?"

    "No," he said firmly, though the slight hesitation in his voice didn''t escape her notice. "I''m saying that I need to stay focused. And when you''re around, I¡ª "

    "You what?" she interrupted, leaning forward. "You can''t concentrate? Because you''re too busy worrying about me? Is that it?"

    "Yes," he admitted, his voice rising for the first time. "Because I care about you, Isadora! Is that so hard to understand?"

    She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his outburst. But the hurt quickly bubbled back to the surface. "If you care about me so much, then why do you keep shutting me out? Why don''t you trust me enough to let me help?"

    "It''s not about trust," he said through gritted teeth.

    "Then what is it about, Noel?" she demanded. "Because from where I''m sitting, it looks an awful lot like you don''t think I''m good enough to handle this. Like you don''t believe in me."

    "That''s not fair," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

    "Fair?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "You want to talk about fair? What''s fair about dragging me into this mess without telling me why? What''s fair about making me feel like I''m not even part of my own marriage?"

    He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn''t give him the chance.

    "You know what''s really unfair?" she continued, her voice trembling. "The fact that you expect me to just sit quietly and wait while you go off and do whatever it is you do, without ever considering how that makes me feel. Do you even care, Noel? Or am I just¡­ convenient?"

    Noel''s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. But instead, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, his expression hardening. "You''re blowing this out of proportion."

    Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn''t speak. When she finally found her voice, it was barely above a whisper. "Blowing this out of proportion?"

    He didn''t answer, which only made the silence more deafening. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "You really don''t get it, do you?" she said, her voice shaking. "You don''t understand what it''s like to feel invisible. To feel like you''re not enough."

    "Isadora," he began, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

    "No," she said, her voice rising again. "You don''t get to brush this off. Not this time. You keep saying it''s about keeping me safe, but it''s not. It''s about control. You don''t want me to be part of this because you can''t stand the idea of not being in charge. Admit it."

    "That''s ridiculous," he said, his voice cold.

    "Is it?" she shot back. "Because from where I''m sitting, it sure looks like you''re more comfortable keeping me at arm''s length than actually letting me in."

    For a long moment, they sat in silence, the tension in the carriage so thick it was almost suffocating. Outside, the city continued to bustle, oblivious to the storm brewing within.

    Finally, Noel spoke, his voice quiet but resolute. "I do what I do to protect you, Isadora. Whether you believe that or not is up to you."

    Her chest tightened, and she looked away, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Protect me? she thought bitterly. Or push me away?

    The carriage came to a stop in front of the hotel, and before Noel could say anything else, Isadora opened the door and stepped out. She didn''t wait for him to help her; she didn''t even look back. Her heels clicked against the cobblestones, each step a sharp punctuation to the argument that still echoed in her mind.

    She didn''t turn around, not even when she heard the carriage start to move again. He didn''t wait. He didn''t even wait to see her safely inside.

    Her stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something she didn''t want to name. Is his mission really that important? Or is he just in a hurry to get away from me?

    Inside the grand reception hall, the noise and bustle felt distant, like a faint echo of a world she no longer belonged to. She handed her identity card to the receptionist with hands that trembled just slightly, hoping no one noticed.

    As she waited for the key, her thoughts churned, a relentless tide of doubts and fears. Maybe I''m overreacting. Maybe he''s right. Maybe I do get in the way. But if that''s true, then what does that say about us? About me?

    The receptionist handed her the key with a polite smile, but even that felt hollow. She climbed the stairs to her room, her steps heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unanswered questions.

    When she finally reached her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her chest heaving with the effort of holding herself together. The room was immaculate, the kind of sterile perfection that only made her feel more out of place.

    She sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands twisting in her lap. Why am I even here? she thought. To wait for some stranger? To play the obedient wife while Noel goes off to be the hero?

    The doubts swirled, darker and heavier now, each one a whisper in the back of her mind. Maybe it''s not just about work. Maybe he really doesn''t want me there. Maybe someone''s been whispering in his ear, planting seeds of doubt¡ª about me, about us.

    And then, unbidden, a thought crept in, cold and insidious: Or maybe he''s right. Maybe I''m just not enough.

    When the knock at the door came, sharp and unexpected, it startled her out of her thoughts. Her hand instinctively went to the dagger hidden beneath her skirt.

    "Who is it?" she called, her voice steadier than she felt.

    "Your husband''s contact," came the reply, smooth and too familiar.

    Her grip on the dagger tightened. Whoever they are, she thought, they''d better have answers. Because I''m done with questions.

    She went ahead and opened the door, there stood a tall man wearing a black frock coat and a plain white mask with a smiley face. Without standing on ceremony, the man bowed and got inside, closing the door behind him.

    "Good evening Ma''am Rivet, I am Lucifer."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    (A few hours earlier)

    Judge tapped on the edge of his throne as Lucifer sat beside the table in utter silence. There was nobody else in the room, and Judge was thinking. This made Lucifer uncomfortable, he was in the presence of a god''s attendant and he was being observed closely.

    Finally, Judge budged, "I have a mission for you Lucifer." He commanded, "Do you accept?"

    "With honor my lord," Lucifer stood up, the sound of his seat dragging echoed in the room, "I shall do anything you command."

    "Very well." Judge nodded, and the scriptwriter behind him disappeared. Lucifer just now was only a part of his script that he had taken an increased liking to. He had not really used it since he was too busy growing up, and also minor things like escaping his mother''s grasp and trying hard to not let his skills be noticed.

    Clio had told him that he could share powers with any one of his underlings, and the three skills she bestowed him were no exception, he could command people under him to recruit more people, whom he could control to recruit more marionettes.

    So basically, an infinite anything glitch. But his marionettes (Actors in the scripts he wrote) were not entirely under his control, they could not act so much against their usual selves since the script makes them believe that they are doing things of their own volition and doing absurd things are not something they would do.... unless they usually do absurd things.

    "You shall head to a hotel in the capital," Judge told him with a gaze without any visible emotions. "everything next you do will come to you naturally, Just trust your instincts."

    "Yes, my lord." Lucifer bowed and vanished, Judge then cast his gaze back to the clueless husband who had just clashed with his clingy wife because he wanted to keep her safe. He was going to try something else next, he was going to try erase some memories.

 Chapter 145 - 145: The Sin of Pride Meets the Sin of Overthinking

    The luxurious hallway of the hotel''s second floor was eerily empty, except for one solitary figure: Lucifer. His black frock coat swayed slightly as he pulled a mask from within its folds¡ª a plain mask, utterly featureless, save for two unsettling dark spots where the eyes should be and a deeply creepy smile stretching across the bottom.

    "Great," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the mask like it was a questionable dish at a fancy buffet. "Nothing says ''trustworthy'' like dressing like a deranged mime."

    After securing the mask over his face, he hesitated for a split second, then knocked lightly on the door. As if rehearsed, he took a step back, standing like he was posing for a sinister portrait.

    From the other side, a steady, feminine voice rang out. "Who is it?"

    Lucifer froze. His mind raced, not with ideas but with a big, fat nothing. Your master will guide you, he told himself, though said master was more of the "throw you into the deep end and see if you swim" type. Bracing himself, he decided to wing it.

    "Your husband''s contact," he said smoothly, surprising even himself with the lack of stuttering. Confidence: check. Truth: not so much.

    After a tense moment, the door creaked open just a crack. A woman in a red and black dress stepped into view. Her expression was what one might call "aggressively unwelcoming." If her face could talk, it would say, "You''re not welcome, but if you have cash¡ª or illegal substances¡ª I might reconsider."

    Lucifer, unbothered, slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He gave a slight bow, a move that probably belonged in a ballroom rather than this tense encounter. "Good evening, Ma''am Rivet," he said, straightening up. "I am Lucifer."

    Isadora stepped aside with a huff, as if to say, Sure, do your little theater act, stranger. She plopped onto the edge of the bed, her posture radiating exhaustion and suspicion. "Lucifer," she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That''s¡­ original."

    "It''s my codename," Lucifer said, settling himself into a nearby chair with the ease of a man who owned the place. "A title bestowed upon me by my lord¡ª Lucifer, the sin of pride."

    Isadora raised an eyebrow so high it practically left her face. "Uh-huh. And your real name?"

    Lucifer paused dramatically. "I don''t think you have the qualifications to hear that," he said, folding his hands as if he were discussing stock prices.

    This was the verbal equivalent of pouring oil onto an already raging fire. Isadora''s face turned a shade of red that perfectly matched her dress. "You smug little¡ª !" She punched the bed with enough force to make it creak. "First my husband keeps secrets from me, and now you? What is this? The secretive boys'' club of Eldris? I''m his wife, not some random nosy neighbor!"

    "I don''t serve Noel Rivet," Lucifer said, his voice calm, like he was discussing the weather. "My master has other concerns. But yes, Noel instructed me to ensure your safety. Nothing more, nothing less."

    "Safety!" Isadora shot to her feet, her voice cracking with frustration. Tears welled up in her eyes, though whether from anger or sadness, even she couldn''t tell. "Why do all of you act like I''m some fragile vase that''ll shatter if someone so much as sneezes near me? I''m not a liability! I can help! Just tell me what''s going on!"

    Lucifer sat in silence, letting her rant echo around the room. Finally, when the storm of words subsided, he spoke. "You''re free to think whatever you like," he said with the emotional detachment of a brick wall. "But I''m afraid you won''t be leaving this room until your husband returns. Or until the two-day protection period is over."

    Isadora glared at him, her frustration boiling over. But deep down, she knew arguing with him was as productive as yelling at a locked door. She sank back onto the bed, her mind racing.

    Why here? Why this hotel room? she wondered, biting her lip. Noel could''ve just kept me at the house if it''s about safety. And what''s with this guy¡ª Lucifer? He''s not even pretending to care. Is this some twisted game?

    She tried to piece it all together. A shapeshifter, Noel had said. But if that were true, how could he trust this guy? Could he be the shapeshifter? What if¡ª

    Her thoughts spiraled further into suspicion and doubt until she shook her head violently. Stop overthinking. He wouldn''t do this to me. Would he?

    After a few moments of silence, Lucifer tilted his head. "Say," he asked, his tone light as if they were chatting about dinner plans, "you calmed down a bit?"

    Isadora shot him a glare that could''ve melted steel. "Barely," she snapped, but her tone lacked bite. She was exhausted from her own internal monologue.

    Lucifer nodded sagely. "Good. Want a cigar?" He pulled out a sleek case and popped it open, revealing neatly lined cigars that smelled faintly of expensive spices.

    Isadora blinked, caught off guard. "A¡­ cigar?"

    "Yeah," Lucifer said casually. "They''re great for stress. Or so I''ve heard. Personally, I just like looking sophisticated."

    "You''re unbelievable," she muttered, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

    Lucifer grinned¡ª well, his mask did the grinning for him. "That''s what they all say."

    Isadora sighed, leaning back on the bed. "Fine. Hand it over. If I''m stuck here with you, I might as well smoke."

    "Now we''re talking." Lucifer tossed her a cigar and lit it with a flick of his lighter. He leaned back, puffing his own cigar like he was at a rooftop party. "So, how''s life?"

    Isadora nearly choked on her first puff. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

    "Why not? We''ve got time to kill. And you seem like someone with a lot on her mind."

    "You don''t say," she muttered, rolling her eyes. But before she realized it, she was ranting again. "Life''s been¡­ frustrating, okay? Noel used to tell me everything. Now it''s all ''classified'' this and ''don''t worry about it'' that. I swear, if I hear ''it''s for your safety'' one more time, I''ll scream."

    Lucifer nodded, his mask''s permanent smile somehow looking smug. "Classic husband behavior. Keep the wife in the dark, then act surprised when she''s mad."

    "Exactly!" Isadora said, pointing her cigar at him. "Wait¡ª why am I agreeing with you?"

    "Because I''m right," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Also, because deep down, you know he''s just trying to protect you. Even if he''s going about it like a complete idiot."

    Isadora stared at him, her frustration slowly giving way to a grudging smirk. "You''re insufferable, you know that?"

    "Part of my charm," Lucifer said, taking another puff.

    For a moment, the two sat in relative silence, the tension in the room easing slightly.

    "You know," Lucifer said after a while, "if it makes you feel better, I''m not exactly thrilled about this gig either."

    "Really?" Isadora said, raising an eyebrow. "Babysitting not your thing?"

    "Not when the ''baby'' punches beds and yells about being a liability," Lucifer quipped.

    Isadora snorted, despite herself. "Fair point. But don''t think this means I like you."

    Lucifer placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Perish the thought, ma''am."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Hawthorne: "Perish the thought, ma''am," Judge wrote on the scroll, pausing to nod in approval at the tone. Beneath it, he added, Isadora: "Could you stop calling me that? It''s getting uncomfortable. Call me Isadora; that''s more comfortable."

    Judge leaned back, eyeing the parchment like a chef inspecting a dish. "Not bad, not bad. Prideful but not overbearing. The man''s practically glowing with self-love here. Clio would be proud. Or maybe not, considering I''m turning her gift into the world''s weirdest puppet show."

    He sighed and picked up his pen again. The skill of Scriptwriting was a blessing and a curse. Sure, it let him steer reality with a few well-chosen words, but it also meant hours of perfecting dialogue. It wasn''t enough to write the scene¡ª every line had to resonate with the characters'' personalities. And Lucifer? He was prideful with a capital P. If Lucifer walked into a room and tripped, he''d blame the floor for not bowing to his presence.

    "Alright, prideful and smooth. No groveling allowed," Judge muttered as he scribbled the next line. Hawthorne: "Your discomfort pains me, Isadora, but who am I to deny a lady her preferences?" He grinned. "Now that''s the kind of guy who probably admires his reflection before saving someone."

    The truth was, this script had to be flawless, and this was not cutting it. Lucifer and Isadora''s interactions needed to feel natural, even though every word was Judge''s design. If the plan worked, Isadora would start to trust Lucifer, and Lucifer''s pride would make him play along without even realizing it. A two-for-one deal. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Reworking the dialogue, Judge spoke aloud to test the flow. "Hawthorne: I''ve been told I''m overly formal. You''re lucky¡ª I''m making an exception."

    "Isadora: Lucky? Oh, please." He paused, considering. "Yeah, that works. Let''s add a smirk for good measure."

    By the time he finished, the script was polished, and Lucifer''s pride practically oozed from every word. Judge leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Not bad. All I need now is for the real Lucifer to not trip over his own ego while delivering these lines, not that he can."

    He returned his attention to the drama that was unfolding as per his script.

 Chapter 146 - 146: The gathering inside a vending machine

    Noel Rivet stepped out of his checkered violet-and-blue carriage, which always managed to draw more stares than it had any right to.

    It wasn''t the colors alone; it was the audacity of the design, as if it were purposefully challenging the concept of subtlety. He adjusted his coat and looked up at the Temple of Umbra, a structure so dazzlingly white it seemed like it might blind anyone who stared too long.

    Umbra was the goddess of shadows and obscurity, her authority involved total control over shadows and the ability to obscure anything, physical or conceptual. Her temple was called "The church of Shadows".

    The temple''s towering columns gleamed in the midday light, their surfaces so polished they could''ve doubled as mirrors. Intricate carvings of shadows¡ª yes, carvings of actual shadows¡ª seemed to shift as Noel moved closer, as if the stone itself was alive. The grand staircase leading to the entrance stretched out like the world''s most dramatic welcome mat, daring anyone to approach without an offering of reverence¡ª or sunglasses.

    There were a bunch of people going in and coming out, it was not a holiday today, yet the amount of people present would make people think otherwise. But this was the norm here, after all, it is the capital of Eldris.

    Noel climbed the stairs, muttering to himself. "Victor always has a flair for picking the most overly symbolic places to meet. What''s next, the lair of a dragon?"

    Inside, the brightness continued, and so did the bustling. The hallways were gleaming brightly in pristine white. The polished stone reflected every flicker of light, amplifying the luminosity to an absolutely unwanted level of brightness. It was beautiful but also unnerving, like walking through a corridor made of frozen lightning.

    The only reprieve came when Noel reached the prayer hall, a stark contrast to the rest of the temple. The black walls seemed to drink in the light, creating a space that was both dark and brilliantly illuminated. Shadows danced in sharp relief, making every corner of the room feel alive with an air of unsettling darkness.

    The hall was extremely large, it would take ages for a person to reach from one end to the other end. But Noel had another destination to reach, he turned left and headed straight for the grand stairway that connected the first floor and the ground floor. He made a right after climbing the stairs and headed for the door at the far end.

    (A/N: This might be confusing, but here, ground level is called the "Ground Floor," instead of the standard "First Floor" used in the USA, Canada, and a few other countries.)

    Quite a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, passed before Noel finally reached the door and pushed it open, entering a normal office with portraits, a few decorations, and a desk in the middle. The walls were made of smoothly cut stones put together with tiny spaces apart which were filled with cement.

    He took out a five nen coin and put it through a specific crack on one wall between the smooth cut stones. Then, he took out a ring from inside his bag and placed the gemstone on it on the wall. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Silence ensued as Noel ceased all of his actions and waited there silently like an obedient dog. Soon, the stone wall shifted and a crack was opened just enough for him to pass through. He entered without hesitation, the clear view of a small room with a U-shaped table with twelve seats around it came into his view.

    There was no light but it was clearly lit, the sweet smell of burning incense permeated the air. There was a long table nearby on an elevated platform near the twelve-seater table, it had seven seats, three on each side of a grand seat.

    Victor was waiting there, leaning against one of the twelve seats, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His black coat blended into the background, leaving only his sharp features and piercing eyes visible in the glow.

    "Noel," Victor said, his voice echoing faintly. "Punctual as ever."

    "Punctuality is the least I can manage when summoned to a temple that could double as a light festival," Noel replied dryly. He stopped a few paces away, eyeing Victor. "You didn''t call me here just to enjoy the architecture, did you? And did the archbishop or cardinal allow you to use this room?"

    Victor smirked, "The pope did." he said faintly.

    Noel was surprised, "The pope did?"

    Victor''s smirk started to faint. "Yes. They have assigned a mission for you, something to done carefully and leave at the first sign of danger."

    Noel raised an eyebrow. "Oh... you mean¡ª the pope needs someone who is extremely careful and I am the most careful person in the organization? Or does he need the strongest?"

    "Both," Victor admitted with a shrug. "You''re already aware of the shapeshifter linked to the Church of Night. The same one we''ve been tracking in our previous encounters."

    "C''mon joke a little, I''m trying to be humorous here." Noel took a seat.

    "Noel..." Victor''s face read ''I am too serious to take a joke'', he leaned in on the table. "The matter is not to be taken lightly. Do you remember the cultists that we tried to investigate a while back?"

    Noel nodded, and his face quickly got serious. "The one who''s been slipping through every net we cast. What about them?"

    Victor''s stern expression lightened a bit. "We''ve confirmed that they''re still active and potentially planning something significant. They''ve been operating under the Church of Night''s banner, though the details of their orders remain a mystery. Your task is to investigate further¡ª find out what they''re up to and who they''re working with."

    "I thought we were after the shapeshifter," He too leaned in closer on the table, "Are they both related."

    "Yes," Victor nodded, "Remember when I said that mind reader, Pellen, read the memories of Lester?"

    "Mhm, go on."

    "Pellen also said something else, I could only reveal so much since someone could be listening inside your house."

    "I understand." Noel nodded.

    "Lester had identified the divine power when Pellen read his memories." Victor frowned. "It is the divine power of the god of night."

    Noel frowned, crossing his arms. "So you want me to investigate the church of night to find a shapeshifter who could be anyone, sounds fun. Any leads?"

    Victor tilted his head slightly. "We have got leads on frequent gatherings at a village where the church of shadow had been mysteriously destroyed by fire overnight and the only present church is the church of night. You might find the person there."

    "Great," Noel said, running a hand through his hair. "Just what I wanted¡ª a deep dive into a den of killers. Anything else I should know?"

    Victor nodded. "The Church of Night guards their god''s identity with utmost secrecy. while you are there, try to find out his name¡ª of course, don''t do it if it endangers the main mission. You''ll have to tread carefully."

    Noel let out a long breath. "Carefully is exactly my style, and I know I''ll make it work. What''s my cover?"

    Victor smiled faintly. "You''re not infiltrating this time, Noel. Just investigate. Stay in the shadows, blend into the crowd, and gather information. Don''t make yourself a target."

    Noel snorted. "You are trying to make this hard for me, I swear if I find myself on the church night''s hitlist, your name is the first one I''ll spill."

    Victor''s grin widened slightly. "Deal. And, Noel?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Try not to get killed. You''re too useful for that."

    "Wow," Noel muttered, turning toward the exit. "I''m feeling the love already."

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    World building department here¡ª it seems to be time to introduce the gods and goddesses of Eldris.

    The gods and goddesses together make up a group of twelve, they are as given below:

    1. Veritas (god of Light and Truth)

    Power: Controls the truth of an object or a concept, assigning falsehoods as true and truths as false.

    2. Tenebris (god of Night and False Realities)

    Power: Creates and controls false realities, making them feel indistinguishable from the real world.

    3. Fortuna (goddess of Chance and Chaos)

    Power: Manipulates probabilities and randomness, creating impossible or unlikely outcomes.

    4. Ruinare (goddess of Renewal and Destruction)

    Power: Destroys any matter that has mass¡ª renew and reshape them into altered forms.

    5. Oblivio (god of Knowledge and Forgetfulness)

    Power: Create, control, and erase knowledge and memories without altering the past.

    6. Fidelitas (god of Bonds and Betrayal)

    Power: Manipulates bonds between anything, physical or conceptual. Separating things that should exist together, or bringing together separate things.

    7. Somnium (god of Dreams and Manifestation)

    Power: Brings dreams, ideas, and imagination into physical reality, bypassing natural creation processes.

    8. Aequor (god of Infinity and Boundaries)

    Power: Expands or contracts anything, physical or conceptual, making finite things infinite or collapsing infinite spaces.

    9. Fatum (god of Fate and Potential)

    Power: Alters the future by controlling the potential paths individuals or events can take.

    10. Anima (goddess of Life and Essence)

    Power: Controls the life force, deciding whether beings continue to exist in the future, without erasing their past.

    11. Lux (goddess of Light and Revelation)

    Power: Reveals hidden truths and secrets, revealing anything as long as it exists.

    (Special note: Lux is said to be the female identity of Vanitas, an identity Vanitas created to battle goddes Umbra.)

    12. Umbra (goddess of Shadows and Obscurity)

    Power: Obscures anything, physical or conceptual. Making the world unknown to the existence of concepts or things.

 Chapter 147 - 147: Maybe the mission was the bumps we suffered along the way

    Noel Rivet stopped in his tracks just before stepping into the black wooden carriage. He swiveled back toward Victor with a finger raised like he''d just remembered something crucial.

    "Wait a second! I feel like I forgot something important," Noel said, scratching his head with exaggerated concern.

    Victor raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "If you forgot it, it probably wasn''t important." sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel blinked, tilted his head thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "You''re right. It''s probably just my sense of self-preservation, anyway."

    Victor didn''t even dignify that with a response, but his lips twitched slightly as if he were suppressing a grin. Noel turned back toward the carriage, muttering to himself, "Yeah, who needs that anyway? Not this guy."

    With a dramatic sigh, Noel climbed into the black wooden carriage, which smelled faintly of varnish and, oddly, lavender. The coachman, an older fellow with a perpetually grim expression, tipped his hat but said nothing. Noel settled into his seat as if he were about to embark on the most glamorous vacation of his life instead of a potentially life-threatening investigation.

    The journey began with the carriage jerking forward in a manner that made Noel''s teeth clack together unpleasantly. He clutched the side of the doorframe and winced. "Fantastic start," he muttered. "This is going to be a magical ride, I can tell already."

    He leaned back and stretched out, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He tapped his temple. I''ve definitely forgotten something. But what? Did I leave the stove on? But I don''t even cook much.

    Outside, the grand capital of Eldris stood tall, towering spires, majestic domes, and streets paved so smoothly they looked like they had personal stylists. People were bustling about, minding their own businesses. And on the far side, a building that people could see almost everywhere in the city¡ª was the majestic palace of the emperor, or the royal family "rex Eldris."

    As the carriage drove out of the city, the scene was soon replaced by farmlands coated in a fine dusting of early snow. The flakes weren''t heavy yet, just a scattered flurry drifting lazily to the ground, covering the world in a fragile white lace. The countryside seemed to exhale in preparation for the coming winter, the first hints of frost sparkling like tiny diamonds in the fading sunlight.

    But Noel wasn''t in the mood for scenic appreciation. His attention was thoroughly occupied by the way the carriage seemed to hit every single pothole on the road with pinpoint accuracy.

    "Does this thing have a built-in pothole detector or something?" Noel grumbled as the carriage bounced violently, nearly sending him flying off the seat. "Because it''s doing a stellar job of finding all of them."

    The coachman didn''t reply, but Noel swore he caught a faint smirk in the man''s reflection. "Oh, you''re enjoying this, aren''t you?" Noel muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at the back of the driver''s head. "You sadist."

    The scenery was replaced with a snow-dusted forest and a few red-eyed rabbits darting between trees. They weren''t in search of food but seemed to be enjoying the calm before hunters would emerge from their winter hiatus.

    But Noel was busy trying to figure out why his brain felt like an unmade bed.

    "This buzz," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Why do I feel like... like I left the oven on? Except I don''t have an oven. Is this what anxiety feels like? Or am I just being... weird?"

    He tried to distract himself by looking out the window. That lasted about five seconds before the monotony of small animals playing around and the occasional bird chirping made his eyelids droop. But every time he closed his eyes, the buzzing in his head jolted him awake like an overzealous alarm clock.

    What is wrong with me? Noel thought, scowling. It''s probably nothing. I mean, Victor said it wasn''t important. And he''s... mostly reliable. Except when he''s not. Which is always.

    The driver glanced back at Noel through a small sliding window. "You talkin'' to yourself back there, mate?"

    "No," Noel snapped, his tone making it clear that, yes, he absolutely had been.

    As the hours dragged on, they exited the forest and entered the countryside. The carriage still hit every bump and pothole as if the driver was conducting a personal vendetta against Noel''s spine. The buzzing in his head didn''t help. In fact, it got worse. Noel''s fingers drummed against his knee, and he stared at the snowy countryside as if it owed him an explanation.

    Slowly, the novelty of the bumpy ride wore off, and boredom set in. Noel rummaged through his bag, which thankfully hadn''t been forgotten despite his earlier lapse of memory. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and a stubby pencil, starting to doodle in the margins.

    One particularly violent jolt caused the pencil to stab through the paper, and Noel let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Well, there goes my masterpiece. Truly, the world is not ready for my artistic genius."

    The coachman still said nothing, but Noel imagined he could hear the faintest snort of laughter.

    By the time the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and reds, the carriage rolled to a halt near a tiny village. Noel peeked out the window, his eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the place.

    The village looked like it had been plucked straight out of a folktale¡ª except the ominous kind where people mysteriously disappear after dark. The houses were small and crooked, leaning against each other like old drunks. A single weathered church tower loomed in the distance, casting a long shadow over the village.

    "Cheery place," Noel muttered as he stepped out of the carriage, stretching dramatically. "I bet the tourism board is really proud of this one."

    The coachman tipped his hat again and turned the carriage around without a word, leaving Noel standing alone on the cobblestone road. He sighed and adjusted his coat, pulling it tighter against the chill in the air.

    "Well, Noel," he said to himself, looking toward the shadowy silhouette of the church in the distance. "Time to go poke the metaphorical bear. Or shapeshifter. Or cult. You know, whatever horror-show thing I''m walking into this time."

    And with that, he set off down the path, his boots clicking against the cobblestones, muttering complaints about everything from the uneven road to the unsettlingly quiet atmosphere. If anyone was watching him, they probably got the impression that this was a man thoroughly unimpressed with life¡ª and they wouldn''t be entirely wrong.

    The target village was still far off, but this was the place that had been arranged for him to take a midnight train to his next destination. He had to take a really confusing route before he headed to the original destination. After all, he did not want people after him.

    He headed to the nearest inn and took a room for the night. By the time he entered the room and laid on the bed¡ª Noel felt like he''d aged ten years. He slowly got up and headed down to eat something, he had not eaten since morning. Maybe it was lunch that he forgot.

    The inn was a modest affair, there were quite a few people for a countryside inn. He went to the counter and ordered some questionable stew from the innkeeper.

    "Anything else for you?" the innkeeper asked, her smile friendly but her eyes clearly calculating his net worth.

    Noel rubbed his chin, debating whether to splurge on dessert. Then the buzzing flared up again. What am I missing?!

    "No," he said sharply, waving her off. "I''m good. Probably. I think."

    You''ve got this, Noel. He muttered to himself, You''re a professional. You''re not weird. You''re just... eccentric. Charming, even. Totally normal.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Isadora paced back and forth in the small room, her heels clicking against the polished wooden floor. Her red and black dress swished with each sharp turn she made, the fabric mirroring her agitation. "He''s unbelievable," she hissed. "Always so cryptic. Always so... distant. He treats me like I''m some fragile vase that''ll shatter the moment I know the truth!"

    Lucifer remained seated, his posture relaxed, one leg crossed over the other as if the storm of her emotions didn''t touch him. "Well, Lady Rivet," he began, his voice measured, "to be fair, your husband has been under quite a bit of stress. Perhaps this secrecy is his way of managing things without burdening you further."

    She stopped mid-step and turned to glare at him. "Oh, don''t you start defending him now. If he''s under stress, maybe he should talk to me about it instead of shutting me out! I''m his wife, not some... some acquaintance!"

 Chapter 148 - 148: Trust Me, Im Definitely Not Smirking

    "I''m his wife, not some... some acquaintance!"

    Lucifer nodded slowly, his fingers tapping the armrest of his chair. "You make a compelling point. Communication is the backbone of any partnership, after all. It''s strange, isn''t it? A man as meticulous as your husband should know that keeping you in the dark would only breed resentment."

    Isadora''s eyes lit up, the spark of validation fanning her anger. "Exactly! That''s what I''ve been saying! But no, he just dumps me in a hotel room with a stranger and says, ''Stay put, darling, it''s for your safety.''" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and her pacing resumed with renewed fervor.

    Lucifer tilted his head, observing her with an almost curious expression. "And yet," he said softly, "perhaps he feels this is the only way to keep you safe. A shapeshifter is no ordinary threat, after all. Imagine if it took on your form and targeted him... or worse, if it targeted you."

    She paused, frowning, her anger briefly giving way to uncertainty. "You think he''s really that worried about me?"

    Lucifer leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "It''s possible. He could be doing all this out of love, out of fear of losing you. But..." He hesitated, as if reluctant to voice the thought. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "But what?" she pressed, her voice sharp.

    "But what if," he said slowly, "he''s simply using this as an excuse to keep you at arm''s length? To focus on his own goals without having to worry about you meddling in them?"

    Her breath hitched, and she turned away, her hands gripping the back of a chair. "I''ve thought about that," she admitted. "But I keep telling myself it''s not true. He wouldn''t..."

    "Of course not," Lucifer interjected smoothly, standing and taking a few measured steps toward her. "Your husband''s loyalty is beyond question. But even the most loyal of men can falter under pressure, can make decisions that seem cold or distant. That doesn''t mean his intentions aren''t pure."

    Isadora''s grip on the chair tightened. "Then why does it feel like he''s pushing me away? Like I''m just... in the way?"

    Lucifer sighed, the sound heavy with faux regret. "Because maybe¡ª just maybe¡ª he believes you''re safer out of his way. It''s a flawed logic, but not an uncommon one among men in his position. They think they''re protecting you when, in reality, they''re only alienating you."

    Her laugh was bitter. "Well, it''s working. I feel plenty alienated."

    Lucifer placed a hand over his heart, his tone taking on a gentler quality. "I''m sorry you feel that way, Lady Rivet. Truly, I am. You deserve better, and perhaps your husband would see that if he weren''t so consumed by his work."

    She glanced at him, her expression caught between anger and sadness. "And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Sit here like a prisoner while he plays hero?"

    Lucifer stepped back, resuming his relaxed posture. "You wait. You trust. When he returns, ask him everything that''s on your mind. Demand answers if you must. He owes you that much."

    "And what if he doesn''t come back?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Lucifer hesitated just long enough to make the question hang heavy in the air. Then, he shook his head with an air of quiet confidence. "He will. A man like your husband always comes back... and if he does not, he just lost all the respect I have for him even though I have not much to speak of."

    He turned away, adjusting his coat, his unseen smirk hidden behind the mask. "You''ll have all the answers you seek in two days, Lady Rivet. I''m sure of it. And I will be sleeping in the next room, feel free to trouble me if you need anything."

    Lucifer opened the door "Oh and,"

    "And?"

    "I was only tasked with protecting you, not entertaining you... but you seemed quite lonely." He smiled slightly and left.

    The room fell silent as Isadora mulled over his words, her emotions were a tangled web of doubt, anger, and hope. She looked at the clouds floating freely out in the sky, loneliness was starting to eat at her heart, no it wasn''t loneliness, it felt more like... Fear!

    The fear of betrayal

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Seraphis was enthusiastically slurping down a bowl of noodles, a famous specialty from the Eastern continent. This was her first time trying them, and honestly, it felt like a personal chef had been hiding in her taste buds, preparing for this very moment.

    Judge had whipped them up for her after swapping out Guzbin pork for the far superior Worrak beef. (Apparently, Judge had some kind of vendetta against Guzbin pigs. Don''t ask.)

    Just as she tipped her bowl to sip the last drops of the savory broth, the door to the kitchen flew open with all the subtlety of a bull in a teashop. Judge stumbled in, looking like he''d just fought off a mob of angry creditors¡ª or worse, spent three days locked in a cubicle writing quarterly reports. His vibe screamed "death by PowerPoint", or in this case, something more dramatic: the haunting expression of a Japanese anime artist on the brink of karoshi.

    "Wow," Seraphis paused mid-slurp, eyeing him over the rim of her bowl. She jabbed a noodle in his general direction for emphasis. "You look like someone dragged you out of a 14-hour shift at the local coal factory. Congrats on surviving."

    Judge, too tired to summon a proper comeback, muttered with a wave of his hand, "I''ll take that as a compliment. Much appreciated." He trudged over to the stove, lifted the lid of a pot with all the energy of a deflated balloon, and was immediately hit with the aromatic steam of beef broth, which seemed to mock his current misery by smelling too good.

    Seraphis, unfazed, went back to her noodles. "So," she asked between bites, "when are you heading off to your next round of monk seclusion? Gonna meditate yourself into another noodle recipe?"

    Judge grabbed a clean bowl and started ladling out the broth, giving her a side-eye so sharp it could dice onions. "It''s called work, not seclusion. And for your information, we''ve got someplace else to be." He shoved the bowl of steaming noodles onto the counter with the flair of someone who definitely wasn''t paid enough for this.

    "Someplace else, huh?" Seraphis smirked, twirling her chopsticks like a villain in a spaghetti western. "Let me guess¡ª another mystical library with extra stairs, or is it the kind of ''someplace else'' where we might actually survive this time?"

    Judge groaned, pouring himself a cup of tea like it was his only tether to sanity. "You''ll find out soon enough."

 Chapter 149 - 149: Much Ado About Bloody Business

    "M-Monster..."

    A heavily injured man tried to crawl back with the only hand he had left. Blood was continuously oozing out of his other hand like a badly plumbed pipe.

    His gore-covered body missed an arm and both his legs, the green jacket had turned crimson from the pool of blood he was trying to crawl out of, but blood spilled wherever he tried to crawl.

    "Monster? Oh please sweetheart you have never seen a true monster." A pair of leather boots appeared near him, the man wore a long black jacket and a cigarette dangled carelessly from his lips.

    He could''ve been mistaken for someone on a casual stroll after a hard day''s work¡ª calm, composed, even bored. His entire demeanor was jarringly at odds with the complete chaos and utter carnage surrounding him, as if none of it was worth breaking a sweat over.

    Bending down to get closer to the dying man, the stranger exhaled a slow stream of smoke, "But I have seen a true monster," He spat the cigarette, and it landed in the pool of blood and sizzled before dying out. "Trust me, you don''t want to see that person... not even in your dreams.

    "But you don''t need to worry about meeting with that monster since the realm of the dead is not somewhere she might be familiar with." He chuckled as he grabbed the man by his chest, propping him up. The fingers dug deeper as the bone cracked and blood oozed out of the five new holes.

    The man screamed in pain and agony, thrashing his only leg weakly on the ground and beating the man''s arm with his hand.

    He screamed louder, but alas, there was no soul left to help him. Everyone else had bid farewell to the world that offered them nothing but pain. Mutilated corpses in tattered clergyman clothes adorned the floor.

    "There is sound coming from that room!" Someone shouted

    "Oh? Sounds like the cavalry''s here. About time, really. I was getting so bored talking to you." The man smiled behind the smiling clown mask, his red hair was a tousled mess underneath a black flat hat. It was Judge, currently under the disguise of "The clown of the sinister smirk". And the true monster he saw? He meant Seraphis.

    Judge''s gloved hand flexed, his fingers digging further into the man''s chest. The sickening crack of ribs shattering echoed in the room, followed by a wet squelch as blood ''gushed over Judge''s hand like he''d just squeezed a poorly constructed ketchup bottle.

    The man let out another soul-wrenching scream, his body spasming weakly. Judge sighed theatrically, leaning closer to the man''s ear. "You scream a lot, y''know? Honestly, it''s giving me a headache. But don''t worry; I''m about to fix that problem permanently."

    "There he is," Several figures in black robes burst into the room, weapons drawn and faces filled with a mix of emotions¡ª fear, anger, and maybe surprise. "You... what are you? How could anyone do this? They''re... they''re all dead. You''re a monster... no, something worse!"

    With a menacing laugh, Judge coiled his fingers around the man''s heart and furled his hand into a fist, crushing the heart and stopping the agonized scream. The man vomited another mouthful of blood before being tossed aside.

    "Torture? Oh, please." Judge tossed the man''s twitching body aside like a discarded rag doll, wiping his bloodied hand on the side of his long coat. "This isn''t torture. This is art. Not my best work, sure, but we all have off days."

    One of the newcomers, a burly man wielding an axe, charged forward with a roar. "I''ll cleave you in two, demon!"

    Judge didn''t move, didn''t even flinch. Instead, he sighed as if the man''s outburst was the most tiresome thing he''d ever encountered. "Oh, buddy, that''s adorable. Really. But¡­"

    The burly man''s axe swung down with all the force of a runaway train¡ª only for Judge to sidestep at the last second, the weapon embedding itself into the floor with a dull thunk.

    "¡­you''ve got to work on your aim."

    Before the man could react, Judge''s hand shot out, grabbing the axe handle. With a sharp yank, he pulled the man forward, planting a well-timed knee into his gut. The man doubled over with a pained groan, and Judge twirled the axe in his hands as if testing its weight.

    "Not bad craftsmanship. Bit dull, though. Here, let me sharpen it for you."

    With a swift movement, Judge swung the axe upward, slicing cleanly through the man''s torso. Blood sprayed in a grisly arc, and the red floor got a new coating of red paint. The upper half of the man''s body slumped to the ground, his face frozen in shock, while his legs remained standing for a comically long moment before collapsing.

    The remaining cultists recoiled, their faces pale as they stared at their bisected comrade. Judge turned toward them, twirling the blood-drenched axe like a baton, he cocked his head as if taunting for the next prey to come.

    "So¡­ who''s next? Don''t all volunteer at once; I hate choosing favorites."

    "Together!" one of them screamed, prompting the others into action. They charged together, various kinds of weapons all aimed at him with a polished craft of teamwork.

    Judge let out a low whistle. "Oh, a group effort! How cute. Let''s see how well you all coordinate dying."

    A spear thrust came for his chest, but he sidestepped, grabbing the weapon mid-air and snapping it in half with a casual flick of his wrist. The wielder barely had time to blink before Judge drove the jagged end of the broken spear through their throat.

    Another cultist swung a sword at his back, only to find Judge already behind them. "Nice try!" he chirped, plunging the axe into their shoulder and tearing it downward, ripping flesh and bone apart in one quick motion.

    "Ahhh, you''re all so squishy! Seriously, do you people even drink milk?" Judge mocked, his voice was derisive enough to get everyone angry, but fear ruled his enemies as he tore through their ranks. One by one, they fell¡ª heads rolling, limbs flying, blood pooling until the room resembled a slaughterhouse. Not that it wasn''t before with all the bodies lying there.

    Finally, only one cultist remained, trembling so violently that their sword clattered to the ground. Judge approached slowly, his boots squelching on the blood-soaked floor. He loomed over the terrified figure, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

    "Aw, don''t tell me you''re scared. I haven''t even gotten to the good part yet." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The cultist whimpered, sinking to their knees. "P-please¡­ spare me. I''ll do anything. I was just forced..."

    Judge crouched down, placing a bloodied hand on their shoulder. "Anything, huh? How about¡­" His voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "...Hmm... This is a dilemma, what should you do? Ah! I know, does dying sound like a good idea?"

    Before he could answer, Judge stood and casually kicked his head with enough force to snap their neck, his body crumpling lifelessly to the ground. Blood started to pour out of his mouth. "Wow, talk about inner bleeding."

    Dusting off his hands, Judge surveyed the carnage with a satisfied nod. "Well, that was fun. Now¡­ who''s cleaning this mess? Oh, let me wait for the cleaner to come, I''ve already done his job, so cleaning is basically his gratitude... yes gratitude."

 Chapter 150 - 150: You call that a fight? Hold my sword as I probably dont need it

    Seraphis didn''t waste time. The corridor leading to the commotion was a wreck, chunks of stone scattered everywhere like overcooked breadcrumbs, like really...really overcooked.

    Screams echoed faintly ahead, but she barely registered them. She rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, and adjusted the grip on the sword strapped to her waist. Not that she needed it¡ª her fists were more than enough to handle most problems.

    A half-dead man groaned on the floor, she quickly unsheathed and ended his pain. Blood started to come out from a straight line across his neck, and the head slided off slowly.

    She could hear voices ahead behind the grand door. "That clown might have caused a commotion." She sighed, the noises were pretty intense¡ª as if an ant colony was disturbed by an anteater.

    When she finally burst into the large hall, the cultists inside froze mid-step. The room was barely lit, flickering lanterns casting eerie shadows on the walls. At least twenty of them stood there, armed and ready, their faces obscured by black hoods.

    "Who the hell are you supposed to be?" one of them barked, stepping forward with a mace slung over his shoulder.

    Seraphis ignored him, her sharp eyes scanning the space like a seasoned fighter should be. It was big, circular, with a high ceiling. Plenty of room to swing a sword¡ª or throw a punch. She took note of the two giant stone statues at either side of the room. It was of a person sitting inside a cloak with crossed arms, one arm holding a stone mirror while the other holding an orb that strangely felt like the moon. He also had many extremely polished stone mirrors on his head creating a jagged crown.

    "I''m someone you''re gonna regret meeting," she said casually, unsheathing her katana-like sword with a single, fluid motion. She shifted the sword to her left hand and readied a fist in her right hand.

    The cultist with the mace sneered. "Big talk for¡ª"

    He didn''t get to finish. Seraphis darted forward, faster than a woman of her size could have with a body that thin. Her fist collided with his chest before he even knew she''d moved. The sickening crunch of ribs breaking echoed through the hall as he flew backward, slamming into one of the statues and crumpling to the ground in a heap.

    The room exploded into chaos.

    Three cultists rushed her at once. Seraphis shifted the sword to the right and swung the sword, the blade whistling through the air as it cleaved through the first two with a single, horizontal slash. The third hesitated, just for a second¡ª long enough for Seraphis to sheath her sword, grab his head with her hand, and slam it into the stone floor.

    "Next," she growled, unsheathing up her sword again.

    A spear came at her from the left. She caught it mid-thrust, yanked the weapon forward, and sent its wielder stumbling toward her. With a quick upper kick, she sent him flying into the ceiling, where he stayed for a moment before crashing down in a heap, without his head.

    "Wow, sorry." Seraphis muttered, "You guys really don''t learn, huh?" she turned toward the remaining cultists.

    They hesitated now, unsure, but one of them shouted, "Get her! She''s just one woman!"

    "Oh, just one woman, am I?" Seraphis smirked, raising an eyebrow. She grabbed the nearest chunk of broken stone, about the size of a barrel, and hurled it like a cannonball into their group. Bodies scattered like bowling pins, but with added blood effect, screams followed in its wake.

    Another cultist tried to flank her, but she turned and swung her sword in an arc. The blade didn''t connect¡ª she didn''t need it to, the blood mist did its job. The man was cut in half, he fell to the floor mid-sprint without even registering what had just happened.

    "Any of you want to keep this going?" she called out, planting her sword into the ground and cracking her knuckles again.

    The last few cultists exchanged glances, then bolted for the door.

    Seraphis sighed. "Cowards." She took a step forward, but the ground suddenly shook beneath her. She froze, her hand instinctively going to her sword.

    A massive, hulking figure emerged from the shadows¡ª a man nearly twice her size, wielding a hammer almost as tall as she was. His face was hidden by a steel mask, but his silver eyes where visible.

    "Finally," Seraphis said, grinning. "A real fight."

    The giant didn''t waste time, swinging his hammer with enough force to pulverize the floor where Seraphis had been standing a moment ago. She darted to the side, her movements impossibly quick, and retaliated with a downward slash. The blade hit the hammer, sparks flying as the two weapons clashed.

    For several minutes, the two traded blows. The room shook with each impact, chunks of stone and dust falling from the ceiling. Seraphis was grinning the whole time, her blood pumping. "Where were you hiding? I was getting bored."

    The man looked at her as if she was some kind of insect not worth his time. "I have other works than dealing with vile women."

    "You hit like a cart horse," she taunted, ignoring the insult and dodging another swing. "Nobody even uses them nowadays."

    She stepped in close, driving her fist into the giant''s stomach. He staggered back, and she didn''t give him a chance to recover. With a powerful swing of her sword, she shattered the hammer, the pieces clattering to the floor.

    The giant stared at her for a moment, then fell to his knees. Seraphis raised her sword high and brought it down, ending the fight with a single, decisive strike.

    She exhaled, rolling her shoulders, and glanced around the room. "Well, that''s handled."

    She made her way toward the next room, killing the cultists who managed to run away when she was fighting with the giant. She stepped over rubble and bodies alike, and pushed open another heavy wooden door, leading into another corridor that led to a bigger corridor.

    Why do all of them hate women so much? She thought as she strode forward. Was the church of night always this way? Speaking of which... there was not a single woman among the cultists, but there were plenty of followers. She shrugged and chuckled lightly, Heh! Women are too intelligent to fall into a cult, that must be it.

    She emerged in another grand hall and the sight stopped her in her tracks. The floor was soaked with blood¡ª fresh blood, still pooling. Corpses lay everywhere, mangled and broken, some barely recognizable as human, some were just pieces of flesh.

    In the center of it all stood Judge, leaning casually against the wall, twirling one of his pistols in his hand. His mask''s cheery grin was splattered with red, his black vest somehow spotless beneath the carnage.

    Seraphis pinched the bridge of her nose. "Judge, what the hell is wrong with you?"

    He looked up, tilting his head innocently. "Oh, hey, Master. Took you long enough."

    She gestured at the carnage. "You absolute psychopath. Did you have to turn them into¡­ into this?"

    Judge shrugged. "I was creative."

    Seraphis groaned, rubbing her temples. "You need serious help."

    "Noted," Judge said, grinning behind his mask. "So, what''s next?"

    She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Clean this up. I''m not stepping over any of the corpses here. Is this also a part of your genius plan?"

    Judge chuckled. "Aw, come on. You know you''re impressed."

    "Clean. It. Up." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "No need to clean it" Judge grumbled, holstering his pistols. "The cleaner will arrive shortly."

    "Sometimes I wonder if you are the grand devil himself" Seraphis snapped, stepping carefully over a particularly mangled body, her long boots somehow stayed dry. "And for the love of Eldris, stop being such a damn freak."

 Chapter 151 - 151: Where Did the Door Go? Asking for a Friend

    Clarus was a city drowned in the ever-present daylight, where shadows were considered an endangered species, and sunglasses were a mandatory fashion statement. The city stood as a radiant beacon, proclaiming the glory of the Avians, a proud race with wings as white as the freshly fallen snow.

    Ruling over them were the Luminarii, noble Avians whose very existence was a walking destruction. Among them was Celeste, a Luminarii whose patience was being stretched beyond normal human comprehension by her sister, Flora, who was currently making herself comfortable on a marble bench glowing brighter than her guilty conscience.

    "What are you doing here, Flora?" Celeste demanded, her crossed hands perched on top of each other in a manner that screamed superiority¡ª and exasperation. "You''re supposed to be at the welcoming assembly. Do you know how many times Father asked me if I''ve seen you? Do you know how many times I lied? And mother still has not finished her evening tea. Why are you both like this? Poor father."

    Flora tilted her head back lazily, letting her unfolded white wings drape over the sides of the bench like some kind of feathery display. "Waiting for the sunset," she said with a peaceful smile, as if her response wouldn''t trigger an aneurysm in any sane Luminarii.

    (A/N: Aneursym is something like the bulging of blood veins, mostly in the head)

    Celeste blinked. Once. Twice. Then she leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice like someone sharing a dangerous secret. "You do know where you are, right? Clarus. City of Sun. The sun doesn''t set here, Flora. Ever. It''s like¡­ it''s like¡­ asking a Luminarii to dye their wings black¡ª it''s just not done!"

    Flora waved her hand dismissively, her wings rustling like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. "Oh, I know," she said, as if this were the most reasonable explanation ever. "But imagine it. Just imagine the sun dipping below the horizon, the sky shifting from gold to amber, to crimson, to velvet blue. Wouldn''t it be glorious? Like a dream you didn''t know you needed until you woke up from it."

    Celeste stared at her sister as if she''d sprouted a second pair of wings. "Flora, do you hear yourself? The sun doesn''t set here because it can''t! It''s literally powered by the Church of Light! They''ve spent centuries ensuring this city remains bathed in perpetual day! There''s an entire choir whose sole job is to sing about it! I mean, what were doing in history classes?"

    "I know," Flora said, sighing wistfully. "But don''t you think it would be beautiful if it did? Just once? The first night in Clarus history... the stars twinkling above us¡­"

    "The stars twinkling above us?" Celeste repeated, incredulous. "Flora, the night isn''t some romantic backdrop for poetry recitals! It''s dangerous! You''ve read the chronicles. Night means darkness, and darkness means them."

    Flora turned her gaze to her sister, her usual dreamy expression replaced with something sharper. "Them," she echoed softly, her wings ruffling ever so slightly.

    "Yes, them." Celeste''s voice dropped to a whisper. "The Vampires. The Nocturns. Do you think they''d just let us sit here, admiring the stars if the night fell on Clarus? They''d descend on us like vultures on a wounded sparrow. We''ve grown too comfortable in the light. Without it, we''d be¡ª " S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "¡ª vulnerable," Flora finished, her tone unusually serious. She leaned back, her gaze shifting to the unchanging horizon. "But maybe that''s the problem. Maybe we''ve grown so used to the sun that we''ve forgotten what it''s like to stand in the dark. To face it."

    Celeste felt a chill run down her spine, which was a strange sensation in a city where the temperature was perpetually pleasant. "Flora, what are you saying?"

    "I''m saying," Flora replied, her voice was calm, "that the sun won''t shine forever. And when it doesn''t, we''ll have to decide whether we''re creatures of light¡ª or something more. I want to be a light envoy and travel to places outside this city... and maybe see the night sky illuminated by stars, I want to fall asleep on a grass patch staring at the starry sky."

    Celeste opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She watched her sister recline against the glowing bench, her face illuminated by the ever-present light of Clarus

    "Let''s head back anyway," She shook her head in defeat. "The pilgrims would appear before night, and your job is to welcome them. And doing your job properly is the first step towards becoming a light envoy."

    Flora looked at her sister and folded her wings, "Okay."

    She stood up and walked to the edge, unfurling her wings again to take flight. She let herself fall from the ledge and flapped her wings¡ª flying towards a giant arc made of white stone and gold.

    Celeste looked at her sister flying away with a face devoid of any emotions. She was never going to let her sister be a light envoy, nor were their parents¡ª it was just too dangerous of a job.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Noel Rivet had his doubts. Not about himself¡ª oh no, Noel had an ego big enough to classify as its own celestial body. But he was wondering how in the name of all things spooky he was supposed to pull off his mission without looking like a tourist with a camera slung around his neck. And this odd feeling of forgetting something just won''t go away.

    The church he was sent to monitor was a decent-sized one for a town with a population of just over three hundred thousand people, give or take the odd census miscount. Not massive, but big enough to scream, "Look at me, I''m totally not suspicious!"

    Getting to this town had been a journey that deserved its own memoir. Noel had skipped the direct railway because, you know, nothing says "subtle operative" like showing up in first-class with a newspaper and a trench coat. Instead, he''d taken a carriage to some village that could''ve been a set piece for a soap commercial.

    Then, after befriending a farmer who smelled like apples and questionable life choices, he hitched a ride to the next town and finally hopped on a train. It was the kind of journey that would''ve made a travel blogger quit on day one.

    Now he was standing in front of the church. It wasn''t huge¡ª like, the big-city churches would''ve laughed at this one and asked if it needed help with rent. But it still had an air of oomph, like it wanted you to know it meant business. The stained-glass windows glared at him like judgmental aunties at a family gathering.

    To blend in, Noel did what any self-respecting spy would do¡ª he became the touristiest tourist ever. He took long, aimless walks, peeked into souvenir shops, and even bought a mug that said "I love Somol" because the shopkeeper wouldn''t stop staring at him.

    He asked for directions he didn''t need, sat on public benches and stared at completely ordinary lampposts, and nodded knowingly at random statues like he was a historian on vacation.

    By the time he got to his hotel room, it was night. He locked the door, pulled the curtains, and flopped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. But Noel didn''t have time to nap¡ª he had business to attend to. He waited until the clock struck midnight (because, duh, midnight''s the spooky hour), then turned himself into a shadow, which was hands-down his favorite party trick.

    Sliding under doors and skimming past light sources like a stealthy pancake, Noel made his way to the church. People were still inside the church and praying, because well... this was the church of night after all, what better time to pray than the night.

    But his destination was something else, searching through the nooks and crannies while avoiding both light and people¡ª he finally found an open secret chamber. It was not meant to be open like this, he knew this and wanted to retreat, but despite his best urges¡ª curiosity killed the cat. Maybe one of the members forgot to close the door.

    Inside, he expected to find all sorts of ominous things: robed cultists chanting in senseless tongues, creepy statues that followed him with their eyes, and maybe even a cat doing that weird thing where it stares at nothing and hisses. But nope. The place was emptier than his fridge back home.

    Noel floated around, checking every nook and cranny. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not even a cobweb. "Well, this is anticlimactic," he muttered, forgetting for a moment that shadows don''t usually talk. Deciding it was best not to press his luck, he turned to leave.

    Except there was one small problem: the door was gone. As in, poof, vanished, adios. He stared at the blank wall where the entrance used to be, his brain doing cartwheels. "Okay, Noel," he whispered to himself, "you''ve been in worse situations. Like that time you got stuck in the outhouse during a thunderstorm. This is just like that, but with more stupid curiosity."

    Realizing he was trapped, Noel did the only logical thing: he sat down, pulled out the mug he''d bought earlier from his shadow, and pretended to drink tea from it while muttering, "I''m so glad I paid a whole sten for this."

    Whatever happened, Noel knew panicking would only worsen things, he needed a plan to get out.

 Chapter 152 - 152: When things get too bright and you cant even see your own shadow

    "He''s in!" Judge exclaimed, leaping from his grandiose throne made from a stone statue remains like a cat pouncing on a laser pointer.

    "Alright, I''ll tie him up," Seraphis muttered, adjusting the hilt of her sheathed sword as though it were an unruly child. "Seriously though, not killing is way harder than just finishing him off." She stepped forward with the nonchalant grace of someone doing their least favorite chore. The corpses strewn about might as well have been inconvenient laundry piles.

    Judge snapped his fingers, and they both were transported into the studio. The entire scene shifted like a bad magic trick. One moment, it was all blood and guts; the next, it was an oppressive, unnatural darkness. Everything¡ª the walls, the floor, the bodies¡ª vanished into the void, leaving Judge and Seraphis glowing faintly like awkward lightbulbs.

    "Judge," Seraphis said, her tone dripping with "Are you even listening to yourself?" energy.

    "Hmm?" Judge replied, his grin as smug as ever.

    "You said he could control and turn into shadows, right?" Her eyebrow arched high enough to be an Olympic contender.

    "Indeed," Judge said, as if presenting an obvious fact like water being wet. "That''s the whole idea. Drop his guard, make him overconfident, then BAM! We pull the rug¡ª or in this case, the shadows¡ª right out from under him."

    Seraphis rolled her eyes. "And this genius plan of yours¡ª does it involve you actually doing anything useful?"

    Judge smirked. "Master, I orchestrate. You execute. It''s called delegation."

    "You asked me to just trust you, But how did that... quote¡ª "Extremely careful guy" go into the door when there was a chance that it might shut behind him?"

    "Ahh, that!" Judge smirked. He did not wear a mask, he wanted his face for the finale, "I can give him a little nudge, not like a puppet master thing, but enough to make him think it''s his own actions."

    Seraphis sighed, muttering something unflattering under her breath. "Fine. Let''s get this over with."

    Judge clapped his hands. "Music to my ears! And don''t worry¡ª I can''t control you even if I wanted to."

    With a snap of his fingers, they teleported finest to Noel who was also pulled in with them. There, amidst the oppressive darkness, stood Noel Rivet. His form was tense, his sharp eyes narrowing as he noticed Seraphis.

    Woman... White hair, red eyes, a sword, he thought, fingers twitching. She''s definitely not from around here. What kind of power does she have?

    Noel''s thoughts cut short as he straightened and summoned his shadows, tendrils swirling around him like snakes ready to strike. With a smooth motion, he reached into the void and drew a long, wicked knife, its edge gleaming ominously. "Let''s dance," he muttered.

    Seraphis tilted her head, unimpressed. "A knife? How quaint. What''s next, a sternly worded letter?" sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Noel didn''t bother responding. He lunged forward, shadows surging to envelop Seraphis like a tidal wave. She sidestepped with the ease of someone dodging a slow-moving toddler, her sheathed sword smashing down on the incoming blade with a thunderous clang.

    "Nice try," she said, smirking. "But you''re going to need more than shadows and attitude."

    Noel smirked back, his confidence was at max. The shadows surged again, forming jagged spikes that shot toward her. She spun and weaved through the assault, her movements almost lazy. With a quick strike, her sheathed sword shattered one of the spikes, sending fragments scattering.

    "You''re quick," she admitted. "I''ll give you that. But you''re a one-trick pony."

    Noel growled. "We''ll see about that."

    Before Seraphis could respond, Judge clapped his hands, and the entire scene changed. The oppressive darkness was ripped away, replaced by a blinding, endless expanse of pure white. It was as if the Studio itself had decided to scrub the world clean of shadows.

    Noel froze for a split second as his shadows evaporated like morning mist, but even more surprising was the fact that he did not notice the boy until now. His knife still gleamed in his hand, but his primary weapon¡ª his domain¡ª was gone.

    "Oops! Did I forget to mention this part?" Judge called out cheerfully from a newly conjured lounge chair. "My bad!"

    Noel''s eyes darted around, his mind racing. A complete domain?! Who is this boy? Seems like I have to get through him to end the domain.

    Without hesitation, Noel pressed a small device hidden in his glove. A deafening explosion rocked the void as blinding shards of light burst out, aimed directly at Seraphis. She raised her sheathed sword, the blade absorbing the brunt of the impact as she slid backward.

    "Oh, so you do have other tricks," she said, her tone somewhere between impressed and annoyed. "Let''s see how far they get you."

    Noel charged, his movements swift and unpredictable. His knife slashed toward her, forcing her to parry and dodge in rapid succession. Each clash of their weapons sent clang through the endless white void. Noel pulled a small vial from his belt, smashing it on the ground. A thick, noxious gas erupted, obscuring the area.

    "Cute," Seraphis muttered, her voice muffled by the haze. She closed her eyes, relying on her other senses. The faint whistle of a blade cutting through the air alerted her, and she sidestepped just as Noel''s knife sliced past her shoulder.

    "You''re fast," Noel admitted, his voice coming from multiple directions as he darted around her. "But speed isn''t everything."

    Seraphis smirked. "No, it''s not. But skill is."

    With a burst of speed, she closed the distance between them, her sheathed sword slamming into his knife with enough force to knock it from his hand. Noel stumbled back, pulling another device from his belt. A burst of energy shot toward her, but she deflected it effortlessly, the sheath of her sword glowing faintly.

    "Running out of tricks?" she asked, her tone mocking.

    Noel gritted his teeth. "Not even close."

    He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small orb, throwing it to the ground. It shattered, releasing a swarm of mechanical drones that swirled around Seraphis, firing small but relentless energy blasts. She ducked and dodged, her sword moving in a blur as she destroyed the drones one by one.

    "This is getting tedious," she said, her patience wearing thin.

    Noel lunged again, this time with a pair of hidden blades springing from his gloves. Seraphis sidestepped, her sheathed sword sweeping low to trip him. He fell but rolled to his feet instantly, throwing a series of punches and kicks that she deflected with ease.

    Finally, as Noel began to slow, his movements growing desperate, Seraphis decided it was time to end the fight. She jumped back from Noel, who made no effort to rashly go after her, and decided to observe.

    She held the sword horizontally in front of her, "Good going, kid." She muttered as she slowly unsheathed the red blade. Red mist flowed out with a strong scent of blood. The air grew thick from the pure will Seraphis leaked out without being able to contain while drawing her blade.

    Chi no Kiri...

 Chapter 153 - 153: The Blood mist, without the blood

    "Chi no Kiri,"

    Seraphis whispered, her voice as faint as a secret shared between two toddlers conspiring to steal candy. The fog that had been theatrically oozing out like a cheap haunted house trick suddenly vanished, but the overpowering scent of fresh blood decided to stick around¡ªno, scratch that¡ªit practically threw a party in the room, it intensified, like a chef aggressively seasoning a dish because they "have a vision.".

    Noel, bless his ambitious little soul, lunged forward with a dramatic flair that screamed "I''m the main character!" It was not a rash movement, but a calculated rush with eyes on every side and mind anticipating the next attack before it was even made.

    He was a man on a mission¡ªa mission that lasted precisely 2.3 seconds before his whole body locked up-swing like someone who suddenly remembered they left the oven on. His eyes went wide, terror etched across his face as if he''d just realized he''d accidentally sent an embarrassing text to the wrong group chat. His momentum froze like an overly enthusiastic dancer caught in a flash freeze.

    "What the¡ª" Noel''s expletive was cut short as an invisible force gripped him with the tenderness of a rabid grizzly bear. His eyes widened in terror, his face contorting as if someone had told him his favorite coffee shop had permanently closed.

    As the invisible force gripped him, twisting and churning inside like he was an old sponge in a dishwasher. He screamed¡ªa raw, guttural sound that could rival a tone-deaf opera singer auditioning for a lead role¡ªbefore crumpling to the ground like a sack of poorly packed laundry. He could have earned himself a recording contract with a death metal band. His knife clattered beside him, a sad little "plink" that screamed, "Well, I tried."

    Judge, ever the connoisseur of mess, rose from his lounge chair, slow-clapping like an over-the-top movie villain.

    "Bravo, Master. Bravo. Truly, an exquisite performance. If this were a talent show, I''d give you a solid nine out of ten¡ªone point deducted for the lack of pyrotechnics."

    Seraphis gave him a sidelong glance as she sheathed her sword with the kind of grace that would make a swan feel self-conscious. "You talk too much."

    "And yet, here we are," Judge replied with a sweeping bow, snapping his fingers, a few glowing chains materialized around Noel with all the casual elegance of someone ordering room service, binding him tighter than a poorly wrapped Christmas gift.

    Turning to Seraphis, he grinned. "So, Master, did you enjoy the show? Was it a five-star performance, or did it lack a certain... charm?" S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seraphis, the portrait of nonchalance, sheathed her sword with... an impressive nonchalance. "It was decent. He''s resourceful, but honestly, his reliance on gadgets is going to get him killed. Case in point: this." She gestured at the barely conscious Noel, who groaned weakly like a man regretting all his life choices at once.

    "Fair critique," Judge replied, stroking his chin like a philosopher pondering the meaning of life, or perhaps just debating pizza toppings. "Although, I think he deserves points for effort. That scream alone was Oscar-worthy."

    "Oscar-worthy? What is Oscar?"

    "It''s a prize for theatre actors, but never mind that, you probably have no interest in it."

    "...Yeah I lost interest. Anyway back to the topic at hand¡ªno matter what happens, he will die in a few days," Seraphis continued, plopping into a chair that materialized behind her as if summoned by the sheer force of her indifference. "Two weeks tops. Somone as weak as him can''t endure beyond that."

    "Well, that''s... comforting," Judge muttered, glancing at the unconscious Noel. "But, you know, it''s okay even if he kicks the bucket. He hasn''t truly suffered yet. Gotta keep the drama going, right?"

    Seraphis nodded sagely. "His domain is incomplete. If it were finished, he might''ve pulled off an escape. But of course, you already knew that, didn''t you?"

    Judge coughed awkwardly. "Uh... absolutely. Yep. Totally knew that. One hundred percent." But Judge was confident in one thing¡ª if He did not have those skills that Clio gave him, then he could never win against Noel with his current strength.

    Seraphis rolled her eyes, slipping into teacher mode like a professor explaining calculus to a room full of students who thought they signed up for pottery class. "His domain connects to shadows. A completed version would let him pull people into them, control them, and do all sorts of creepy shadow-puppet nonsense."

    "Neat," Judge nodded, trying his best to look like he wasn''t just winging this whole "knowledgeable mentor" thing.

    "And your domain," Seraphis continued, her gaze locking onto him, "is... well, let''s just say it''s something I''ve never seen before. It''s like the all-purpose Army knife of domains. Really makes you wonder how the heck it works."

    Judge froze mid-sip of his hot chocolate. "Uhh... it''s... complicated. Like, really complex stuff. Hard to explain. Might involve quantum... something."

    "Uh-huh," Seraphis deadpanned, clearly identifying the lie but too tired to argue.

    The two exited the studio together, leaving poor Noel chained up like a cautionary tale for aspiring adventurers.

    Back in the comfort of their lavish quarters, Seraphis sat on a couch that looked suspiciously more comfortable than any couch had the right to be. A towering stack of books loomed beside her, and Judge honestly had no clue when she became such an avid reader¡ªor if she even read them at all. For all he knew, she could''ve been building a book fort.

    "So, Judge," she said, flipping through a book that looked way too dense for casual reading. "Tell me about your..." She wiggled her fingers dramatically, "...Master Plan."

    Judge, ever the picture of seriousness (well, as serious as one can be with a mug that says World''s Okayest Overlord in his hand), sighed deeply. "Master, let me finish my drink before I start. Genius takes time, and so does this hot chocolate."

    "Fair enough," Seraphis said, leaning back with a smirk. "I''ve got time. Don''t disappoint me. Again."

 Chapter 154 - 154: Behind the scenes, the creator pulls an all-nighter

    Now, boot up the time machine and crank those gears to the past, when Victor¡ª dashing in his good ol'' carriage¡ª lounged like a budget prince. He had his triangular hat tipped at just the right angle, aiming for "serious" but landing squarely in "midlife crisis chic." His eyes, however, were glued to the man across from him.

    This man wasn''t just a guy; oh no. He was The Guy. He wore a white mask that practically screamed, "Guess what? I know where you hid your embarrassing secrets, and I''ve got all day to leak them to the world."

    Victor''s heart did its best impression of a drumroll. Skip, skip, thud¡ª was that the rhythm of his demise? He wasn''t sure. He just knew this stranger had the kind of vibe that could make the most hardened mercenary reconsider their life choices and possibly take up knitting.

    The masked man lounged like he owned not just the carriage but probably the road and maybe even the horses pulling them. One arm dangled casually out the window, a posture that said, "Yeah, I''m here, and no, you can''t handle me." When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth as butter, but colder than a witch''s heart in winter.

    "Oh¡­ you seem worried," the man drawled, the smugness in his tone was thick enough to spread on toast. "Care to share what''s on your mind? If it''s about running, don''t. I''m only here to chat."

    Victor clung to his triangular hat like it might transform into a weapon or, failing that, a comforting blankie. His throat turned into a desert, and his brain had taken the first stagecoach out of town. "Who are you?" he managed to croak, all the while trying to summon the courage to grab his pistol. Spoiler alert: the courage wasn''t picking up its phone.

    The man tilted his head like a predator sizing up its next meal. "Ah, yes, introductions," he mused, with a pause so long it could''ve been its own chapter, but couldn''t be published due to lack of words. "You may call me¡­ Lucifer."

    Victor''s instinct was to laugh¡ª because, honestly, who introduces themselves like a drama queen at a masquerade?¡ª but the sheer menace in Lucifer''s tone froze the laugh in his throat.

    "I have something you want," Lucifer said, his tone as confident as a con artist with a winning hand. "Information."

    Victor blinked. "About¡­?"

    "Your enemy," Lucifer replied with a devilish grin that, though hidden by the mask, was unmistakable in his voice. "I''ve been chasing the same foe for years. And I can give you everything you need to know to destroy them."

    Victor perked up. "What''s the catch?" He''d played enough poker to know you didn''t get a winning hand for free.

    Lucifer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Simple. Work for us to fight the enemy. My organization will hire you. Power, resources, and knowledge would be at your disposal. You''ll be almost indomitable." Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Victor hesitated, eyeing the stranger like a cat assessing a particularly suspicious-looking box.

    Lucifer raised a hand, his voice solemn. "I swear on Veritas, the God of Light and Truth, that the information I speak to you will be the absolute truth... Now, will you work for us?"

    Power-hungry Victor took the bait. His greed screamed louder than his common sense. He had nothing to lose since he was familiar with being a hired assassin, and he could return after beating the enemy. And he could get power that money can''t buy, the person in front of him was proof of incredible power

    "Deal." he did not have to think much.

    "Excellent." Lucifer leaned back with the smug satisfaction of a cat who just knocked a vase off the counter. "Let me tell you what you''re up against. The Church of Night¡ª it''s them. They''re the ones who most likely hired your little assassination organization to target the young lady of the Drakonis house. And they''ve got a shapeshifter under their thumb¡ª goes by the name Alexis. He might be the one you are looking for."

    Victor''s eyes widened. "A shapeshifter? Are you sure?"

    Lucifer nodded gravely. "The very same. This information comes at a great cost. It was a trail of blood and madness that led me here. A dear underling of mine named Satan lost someone close to him. Gruesome, unspeakable. The Church of Night leaves no loose ends. They will erase every scrap of evidence tying them to their crimes, you know about the attack on your organization''s branch right? You''ll want to tread carefully."

    Victor swallowed hard, his mind whirring like an overworked steam engine.

    "Oh," Lucifer added offhandedly, standing up and straightening his coat, "one last thing. I will give you a church of night''s location that is designated as a target, it is not a dangerous one but tread carefully. And I do not care if it is someone else who goes in your stead. In fact, I support sending someone who could move skillfully around the shadows."

    Lucifer held out his hand and a mask similar to his materialized on his palm. "Wear this mask, and think of observing the world¡ª you will become intangible even by the common eye. This is our first gift."

    Victor held out his hands like a quirky five year old and took the smiley mask. He did not immediately wear it, something told him not to. His heart stopped beat boxing and started to function normally again.

    Lucifer was not done yet, "Just will for the mask and it would appear in your hands, make sure to give one to whoever you are hiring."

    With that, Lucifer tipped his black top hat, stood up, made sure his black tailcoat looked the part, stepped forward, and vanished into thin air, leaving Victor with a head full of questions about how deep this went and a slip of paper with the location written, and also a note that read¡ª "Be extra careful, they could watch you at unexpected times".

    Victor sat there, clutching the information as though it was a lifeline, not realizing he''d just volunteered himself as Lucifer''s pawn.

    Lucifer had only sworn to tell the truth about the information, and all he told was the truth, but he did not tell information about the actual enemy Victor was actually chasing¡ª Judge. A slight wordplay in the promise that Victor failed to notice. Effectively turning Victor''s attention from chasing more clues regarding the attack to the church of night.

    And all this?... It was orchestrated by Judge''s script that he wrote after taking an all-nighter in his room with just a lantern and a few papers. Man, talk about commitment.

 Chapter 155 - 155: When mass murder is yesterdayâ€™s news, but biscuits are todayâ€™s battleground.

    "So, let me get this straight," Seraphis began, holding her coffee cup with both hands like it was the only thing tethering her to sanity. Her expression was a mix of exasperation and disbelief, the kind of look you give someone who just told you they solved a murder using a Ouija board.

    "You can write a script that your underlings follow like actors in a play, complete with you as the director? And you''re saying that if I, for some inexplicable reason, decided to work for you or one of your minions, I''d also be roped into this... script circus?"

    "You''re absolutely right," Judge said, flashing a grin so confident it could sell snake oil to a snake. "And that''s why I told you I could never control you, even if I wanted to. Which, let''s be honest, I don''t. Way too much effort."

    They were sitting in Seraphis''s living room, which was less a "living" room and more a "barely surviving" room, with mismatched furniture and a few suspicious stains on the carpet that no one dared to question. Despite the cozy setup, their conversation was anything but casual.

    They were just having coffee and snacks as if they had not just committed mass murder just a single day ago. Seraphis, however, seemed unbothered by the moral quandaries surrounding their actions.

    She was aggressively eating the plate of biscuits with the zeal of someone settling a lifelong grudge against carbohydrates. Anyone would tell that she had a personal vendetta aginst baked goods.

    "Alright," she said, pausing only to obliterate another biscuit in her mouth, "let''s dissect this so-called ''grand master plan'' of yours. I''d hate to overlook any of your brilliantly chaotic genius while I''m busy waging this snack-based war."

    She held up one finger. "First, you wiped out an entire branch of ¡ª what were they, freelance murderers? Shadowy Death Club? ¡ª Whatever, after ensuring that anyone who could''ve whipped your sorry back was conveniently out of town.

    Then you got intel on a shapeshifter commissioning the mission to off your sister, and another shapeshifter who just happened to be loitering in the Church of Night, thanks to your sneaky underling. Who was probably hanging out in the Church and sipping holy water cocktails or whatever shapeshifters do for fun."

    Judge nodded, sipping his coffee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    "But riddle me this, Judge," Seraphis said, jabbing a biscuit in his direction like a tiny, edible sword. "How did you know it was a shapeshifter? For all I know, it could''ve been an illusion, or a hologram, or maybe just someone really, really good at cosplay."

    Judge smirked, leaning back in his chair as if preparing to drop some earth-shattering wisdom. He tilted his head and gave her a look that screamed, I''m smarter than I look, which is saying something.

    "Because, my dear master, most assassins ¡ª most ¡ª can tell the difference between illusion and reality. It''s kind of a job requirement. Trust me, if it were an illusion, the worker that the police oficer interrogated would''ve said something like, ''Hey, that guy looked like me but all wibbly-wobbly.'' Instead, he straight-up said, ''That was another me.'' Big difference. Trust me, this stuff is assassin logic 101."

    Seraphis stared at him, her expression somewhere between confused and annoyed. "Uh-huh," she said, nodding slowly as if she understood, though her tone screamed I have no idea what you''re talking about.

    "Moving on," she said, ticking off more points on her fingers. "You had your underling keep tabs on Victor until he sent a letter to Noel Rivet ¡ª your real target ¡ª before making your move."

    "Mhm," Judge hummed, sipping his coffee with the kind of smugness only someone with a borderline insane plan could muster.

    "Then, you wrote a script for this Lucifer guy ¡ª who I can only assume is as extra as his name ¡ª and twisted the words in the promise you made to him. You gave him truthful information but in a way that conveniently pointed him toward the Church of Night and this shapeshifter Alexis.

    Then, you threw in a casual, ''Oh, I don''t care if someone else goes after the church instead of you, totally cool with it. I''d even encourage someone who moves skillfully in the shadows'' Which, to normal people, sounds like you''re asking for a skilled assassin, but to Victor? It screams Noel." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Judge nodded again as Seraphis continued her animated recap. With the special flashback effect... just so everyone knows that it is a flashback.

    "Then, using your scripts, you made Victor recruit Noel. Also, as if that was not enough, you even recruited his wife, Isadora Rivet, to your merry band of underlings. By writing a script for Noel nonetheless, I just realized how much crazy you are.

    And ¡ª because you''re apparently the love child of a playwright and a mad scientist ¡ª you figured out how to tweak the memories of people bound by your contracts. So you made Noel forget that he dragged his wife into this mess. And then, because why not, you sent Noel straight to us. Did I miss anything?"

    "Nope," Judge said cheerfully, sipping his coffee like a man without a care in the world.

    "But why," Seraphis asked, narrowing her eyes, "did you make Noel forget about his wife? What''s the big idea there?"

    Judge leaned forward, setting his coffee down with the gravity of someone about to deliver a TED Talk. "Because, Master, separation anxiety is a powerful tool. I used Lucifer to plant seeds of doubt previously. And the separation makes her think that she has been abandoned by her loving husband after their fight for the past few days.

    What''s more ¡ª the assassin organization only sees her as a tool, except Noel of course. If it was accidentally revealed to her that the organization that took her in sees her only as a tool and nothing more, she is gonna really leave him even if she loved him, there are arrangements to make her think that he too, sees her as nothing but a tool."

    Seraphis blinked, then picked up another biscuit and bit into it with the kind of rage that suggested she was imagining Judge''s face on it. "You''re a menace, Judge. An absolute menace."

    "Aw, thanks, Master," Judge replied with a wink. "I do try to be one."

 Chapter 156 - 156: The seed of doubt

    Lucifer stood in front of the room, his mind clouded with the weight of the last two days. He had not visited yesterday, as the protection period had ended two days ago. But today, as per his master''s command, he was back.

    He did not know why he was sent back or why he was instructed to talk to this woman for two whole days. The manner of his speech was not something he would say to a complete stranger, but it was not an unlikely occurrence either.

    For two days, he had supported the woman''s doubts about her husband abandoning her, strengthening her belief of dumping and hate towards her husband. It was like planting a seed of doubt, now he might be back here to check if had been bloomed.

    "You would know what to do when you get there." The quote from the recorder echoed in his mind. It had been an easy task, but he marveled at the precision his master wielded. The conversation had flowed from his lips naturally, without effort.

    Lucifer knocked lightly on the door, three short taps, the sound barely breaking the silence of the corridor. Almost immediately, a thud followed by a clash reached his ears.

    Someone''s depressed, Lucifer thought.

    The door swung open abruptly, and there stood a woman, her face was a mess of tears that dried up a long time ago, her hair was a tangled mess. The heavy weight of her despair was clear, and Lucifer could tell the seed had taken root. The doubts were now fully grown.

    "Why are you here?" Her voice was small, defeated. She barely seemed able to stand on her own, as if the weight of the world had crushed her spirit.

    Lucifer, feeling a momentary tinge of sympathy for her, cleared his throat and responded, "I just came to check up on you, just in case your husband hasn''t returned. I booked the room for two more days, you see, and today''s the checkout."

    "Oh..." Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging as if the little strength she had left was draining away. "I... see."

    Lucifer sighed, silently facepalming, though his mask prevented any real expression. This was not going how he had hoped. But he pushed forward, his voice light as he tried to ease the tension. "Wanna go out for a stroll?" he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

    "To where?" Her voice was tinged with confusion and weariness.

    "Let''s head to the Church of Shadows. That''s where the assassin organization is, right?" He forced a smile, trying to inject some cheer into the situation, but the mask was already smiling. It felt hollow, but he pushed through.

    She blinked, but her expression crumpled as the walls of self-defense she had been barely holding together cracked. "Yes? But why... he... he already..." Her voice broke, and the tears that had only just begun to dry flooded back. Her shoulders shook violently as her cry became louder, her words barely distinguishable through her sobs. "He already left me."

    Lucifer stood there, watching her collapse, her heart shattered in an instant. She hadn''t realized the impact of his manipulation driven by his master, and in that moment, he saw the true power of doubt.

    He had never realized how sharp, how utterly lethal doubt could be. It hadn''t broken her all at once; it had crept in like a shadow, darkening her love and twisting her thoughts until she saw betrayal where there was none. Now, as he watched her crumble under the weight of what she believed, he saw the true devastation¡ªhow easily doubt could transform lies into reality. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The quiet sobs of the woman continued to echo in his ears as Lucifer led her out of the room, her tears still fresh on her face. Despite the emotional outburst, Lucifer knew this was only the beginning. Whatever His master''s plan was, it was unfolding perfectly, and the woman was only a piece of the puzzle.

    But for now, he would follow through with whatever came to his mind. His absolute trust in his master had been reinforced.

    As they stepped into the bustling city streets, the sharp contrast between the woman''s fragile state and the liveliness of the shopping district hit Lucifer like a slap in the face. The street was alive with chatter, the air thick with the scent of freshly baked pastries and the distant hum of the market. Merchants shouted their wares, and children dashed through the crowds, their laughter filling the air. It was a world full of life, but for her, it might as well have been a distant memory.

    "Come on," Lucifer said softly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them. "A walk in the city will clear your mind."

    She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking up at him as though she was struggling to grasp the situation. "I... I don''t know. I don''t feel like doing anything anymore. Everything is... everything is falling apart." Her voice was fragile, her words cracking under the weight of her emotions.

    Lucifer turned to face her, his eyes hidden behind the mask, but his tone softer than it had been before. "I get it. You are hurt, but sometimes you need to step outside, breathe in the air, and remember that the world doesn''t stop just because we hurt. Trust me, I wouldn''t be out here if I didn''t think it might help."

    She hesitated, then nodded slowly, as if searching for a reason to keep moving forward. They walked in silence through the narrow, cobblestone streets, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the market. People walked past, their lives going on as normal, while she remained trapped in the suffocating grip of her grief.

    "Everything here... it''s so normal," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "As if nothing''s changed. As if... he hasn''t left me."

    Lucifer didn''t respond immediately. He simply watched the people around them, the vendors peddling their goods, the street performers trying to catch a passerby''s attention. It was a facade, a carefully constructed layer of normality over the chaos beneath. But for the woman, it was a reminder of how out of place she felt now.

    Finally, he spoke, his voice a little distant. "People move on. Even when they don''t want to, they do."

    She stopped walking, her eyes scanning the lively streets, the life around her feeling almost too loud, too bright. Her shoulders trembled, and she clenched her fists at her sides. "But I can''t move on," she whispered. "Not after everything. He... he was my everything. And now... now I''m alone."

    Lucifer didn''t have an answer for her. He couldn''t offer her comfort through words alone, and he he knew. All he could do was let her walk through the motions of this empty stroll, hoping the distraction of the city would somehow ease the pain she felt.

    But suddenly, his body moved without much thought, as if he had been possessed by a ghost. A ghost that offered comfort. He hugged her ever so slightly, "It might not mean much to you, but I have been in the same state, and there was no one. I''ve been through loneliness, but this too shall pass. And good days may come."

    Isadora looked up at him silently, she wiped and her tears and hugged him back strongly. All she wanted now was a place of comfort in this world that had left her all alone.

    As they walked, Lucifer couldn''t help but wonder if she''d ever fully recovered. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn''t. But that wasn''t his problem. He had already played his part.

    And the seed of doubt had already taken root.

 Chapter 157 - 157: A church too big for its own good, who makes these?

    Both Lucifer and Isadora came to a screeching halt¡ª metaphorically, of course. Standing before the grandiose Church of Shadows. The building had a vibe like it knew it was the coolest church on the block, with its sleek shadow carvings that seemed to wiggle and dance when you weren''t looking directly at them¡ª honestly, kind of show-off-y for a place of worship.

    It was a spot where believers and non-believers alike could stroll in or out like it was a park on a sunny afternoon, no questions asked.

    This was in sharp contrast to its snooty cousin, the Church of Night, where you couldn''t just waltz in without going through a full-blown conversion process. Those guys made you swear loyalty, light a candle, and possibly sign a contract in blood before you were even allowed to peek inside. Real members-only club energy over there.

    Lucifer adjusted his cloak dramatically like he was about to give a TED Talk, because, of course, he did¡ª and turned to Isadora. "Summon the mask that Noel gave you. I am the one who gave it to Victor."

    Isadora blinked, looking like someone had just asked her to recite the alphabet backward. "But I don''t know how. It just¡­ vanished after a while when¡­" She sniffled a bit, her face now free of earlier tears, though her voice still wobbled like jelly on a too-small plate. "¡­When Noel gave it to me."

    "It''s not your average mask, Isadora," Lucifer sighed the kind of sigh you only hear from parents trying to explain Wi-Fi to their kids and explained with the patience of a teacher dealing with a particularly clueless student. "This one''s special. You can summon it by sheer willpower¡ª no magic words or awkward hand gestures needed. Oh, and fun bonus: You can make copies of it for others to wear if they agree to work for you. A real two-for-one deal." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Oh¡­" Isadora tilted her head like a confused puppy. Then, as if flipping a switch, she held her hand out, and a white mask with a big ol'' smiley face appeared out of thin air. "So that''s why he asked if I wanted to work for him."

    Lucifer raised a brow beneath his mask (probably). "Who? Noel?"

    "Yeah." She plopped the mask onto her face and pulled her hood up like she was getting ready for a low-budget heist.

    "Good." He gave a short, approving nod. "Now, before we go in, I need you to think of yourself as just an observer of the world. Pretend the world and you have nothing to do with each other. Like, absolutely nothing. You''re just here to watch the chaos unfold."

    "Huh?" Isadora didn''t yell, but she was clearly surprised, the sheer confusion in her tone could''ve shattered glass. "Why would I do that?"

    "It''s how you slip in without being spotted," Lucifer replied with the air of someone who had explained this exact thing 47 times today. exactly 47 times, no less... but probably more... guess?

    "Oh¡­ okay. Wait, what do I do again?"

    Lucifer groaned, dragging a hand down his face¡ª or rather, his mask. "Just imagine the world as a story and yourself as the reader. Or the world as a play, and you''re the audience. It''s really not rocket science, Isadora."

    "Got it," she said, nodding like she totally didn''t not get it. She took a deep breath, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk''s. "Okay. Here goes nothing."

    She closed her eyes, focusing hard enough to pop a vein, and thought of herself as nothing more than a spectator¡ª nothing but an observer of the world, a reader of a story, and a spectator of a theater drama. Watching and remembering all that the author called fate had laid in the world in front of her.

    And just like that, poof. She vanished into thin air, her form became as transparent as a politician''s promise. Lucifer followed her lead with an eye-roll so powerful it could''ve powered a small village.

    The Church of Shadows loomed before them, its towering columns gleaming so brightly in the sunlight that sunglasses probably should''ve been mandatory. The carvings of shadows¡ª actual, moving shadows¡ª seemed to shift and twist as the pair approached, as if they were alive. Maybe they were. In this world, who even knew anymore?

    The staircase leading to the entrance sprawled out like a dramatic runway, practically screaming, "Bow down to my architectural greatness!" Despite it not being a holiday, the place was packed. A sea of people milled about¡ª some entering, some leaving, some just loitering like they''d accidentally wandered in while looking for a coffee shop.

    "Stick close to me," Lucifer''s voice dropped to w whisper, "and remember that my lord can see you when you act as an observer, so try not to lose your image in front of him."

    "What?! So like, can he see me at other times now that I''ve used it?"

    "I doubt he can''t, after all, he is a god''s attendant. But he is only interested in the memories we observe."

    "A god''s attendant? tell me more."

    Lucifer didn''t bother to explain further. Instead, he marched up the staircase, the polished steps reflecting his every move like a particularly judgy mirror. "Let''s go," he said, his voice firm. "And remember, observer mode only. No funny business."

    "Define ''funny business,''" Isadora muttered under her breath, unsatisfied with the lack of explanation, but she continued following close behind.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Time moved at the pace of a bored snail as Lucifer and Isadora floated around like two particularly nosy ghosts at a haunted house convention. Yes, they were ghosting around ironically¡ª because the Church of Shadows was all about shadows, not spooks, but hey, life''s funny like that.

    Their mission was simple: float through walls, avoid bumping into anything embarrassing (like a congregation mid-prayer), and sniff out some juicy intel on Noel Rivet¡ª his mission, his whereabouts, and maybe his favorite sandwich, if that turned out to be relevant. Assassins supposedly gathered here, and while most people would rather not crash an assassin party, here were Lucifer and Isadora, treating it like a casual Tuesday.

    They''d floated through the same room three times already. Three! By now, the walls, made of smooth-cut stones set a few inches apart and held together by concrete, were starting to feel like old friends. The room''s symmetrical design, identical to three other office-like rooms they''d passed earlier, was mocking them with its uncanny copy-paste vibe. Was this the entrance to the assassin HQ? Or just the janitor''s closet of doom? Who knew?

    Lucifer, brimming with the kind of confidence only someone lost in a labyrinth could muster, floated forward to check again. He pushed through one of the walls and¡­ boom. He was in the grand prayer hall. "Alright, onward to the next room!" he announced with the enthusiasm of a man pretending he hadn''t just failed again.

    Isadora floated nearby, her hands on her spectral hips, her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Don''t you think you should check all four walls first? You know, just in case?" she suggested, her words dripping with the gentle sass of someone who''d been dealing with this for far too long.

    "Try it if you want," Lucifer said, floating back into the room as if daring her to prove him wrong. "But I''ve got a very confident feeling this isn''t the room."

    "Fine, I''ll do it," Isadora declared, zipping around like a supernatural Roomba, inspecting the remaining two walls with determination, excluding the entrance and the wall Lucifer inspected.

    A minute later, she floated back, her face a little sheepish, like someone who''d just realized they''d been arguing with the GPS while driving in circles. "Uh¡­ you were right." She cleared her throat, slapped on a quick smile, and raised her voice with newfound determination. "Alright, onward to the next room!"

    Lucifer''s mask tilted ever so slightly, as if raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You look way too cheerful for someone who''s just been dumped recently."

    Isadora waved a dramatic hand through the air, clearly in denial. "I''ve decided not to live in the past!" she declared like she was auditioning for a soap opera. Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "...But it still hurts, you know."

    Lucifer sighed like Judge does, the kind of deep, weary sigh reserved for babysitting emotionally volatile ghosts.

    Without another word, he floated toward the next room, taking a left from the prayer hall''s entrance. Truth be told, he already knew where the entrance was. He''d known the whole time. But if he just waltzed in like he owned the place, Isadora would''ve started asking questions. Questions he had no interest in answering.

    Right on cue, Isadora floated up beside him, her curiosity practically glowing. "Don''t you guys already know the entrance? You work together, after all."

    Lucifer''s inner monologue groaned so loudly it probably echoed in the astral plane. Not necessary after all, huh? There goes my precious time, wasted on an unnecessary church tour. Thanks, fate! He coughed in a very sophisticated, Judge-like manner and replied smoothly, "We''re not exactly best friends. Just¡­ partners. Partners with a common goal to take down a foe. We''re not close enough to share details about secret doors and the like."

    "Huh." Isadora nodded with the expression of someone who didn''t get it but decided it wasn''t worth the brainpower to ask follow-up questions. "I see."

    Finally, they entered the next room. Lucifer, not wasting a second, floated to the walls and began poking his way through like a ghostly detective. It didn''t take long. By the second wall, he found what they''d been looking for¡ª a dark passage hidden within. "Found it!" he announced, his tone triumphant, like he''d just solved a Rubik''s Cube blindfolded.

    Isadora didn''t wait for further instruction. She zipped through the wall behind him, her ghostly form moving with all the eagerness of someone finally ditching the world''s most boring tour guide.

 Chapter 158 - 158: This is not going to end well is it?

    Lucifer and Isadora stepped into the room like they were auditioning for a role in Professional Trespassers: The Musical. Sure, they weren''t exactly invited, but the confidence was key. They had swagger, a mission, and apparently zero concerns about getting caught.

    "Now, Isadora," Lucifer began, with the tone of someone explaining a board game with way too many rules, "think of yourself as a part of the system again. You know, like you''re a normal human. Blend in. Breathe it. Be it."

    "Oh, sure," Isadora quipped, rolling her eyes like a pro. She took a deep breath and then reappeared in the room with the flourish of someone hoping for applause. "Doesn''t this place have any security?"

    "It has," Lucifer replied, already moving toward the shelves.

    "It has?!" Isadora echoed, her voice shooting up an octave in genuine shock. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, but since she was wearing her trusty mask, all she accomplished was smacking herself in the face.

    Lucifer gave her a cool nod, the kind that made you wonder if he practiced it in the mirror. "More like... had. The securities are all gone."

    "How?!" she demanded, lowering her voice this time as if suddenly remembering that stealth was part of the plan. "I thought you said you and the organization were just partners in crime. No ''tell me your deepest, darkest secrets about your evil lair'' level of close."

    Lucifer waved a hand dismissively, as though dismantling high-level security systems was a casual Tuesday activity. "Master struck Victor with a deal," he said, like that explained everything. "Trust me, that guy goes bonkers when it comes to anything related to getting stronger."

    Isadora snorted, her arms crossing as she leaned against the nearest shelf. "Yeah, that... he does," she admitted. "Guy would probably sell his soul for a two-percent increase in power."

    Lucifer arched an eyebrow, his expression unreadable behind his own mask. "Who says he hasn''t?"

    "Wait, are you serious?" Isadora blinked at him, her tone walking the fine line between disbelief and mild concern.

    Lucifer didn''t answer immediately, instead turning his attention to a nearby shelf. "You know, some things are better left as mysteries. Like what exactly they mean by ''natural flavors'' in snacks."

    "Not the same thing," Isadora deadpanned, but she still followed him, her curiosity piqued. This whole operation was weird, and now she couldn''t help but wonder just how deep the rabbit hole went¡ª or if the rabbit was also Victor in disguise.

    The room was filled with a U-shaped table surrounded by twelve chairs, clearly an attempt at looking fancy but achieving only "Grandma''s outdated dining room chic." On an elevated platform was another table with a grand seat in the center, flanked by three slightly less grand seats on each side. The whole setup was just a big old¡ª "We''re important, and you''re not."

    But Lucifer and Isadora weren''t there to critique furniture or question why assassins needed such an elaborate meeting space¡ª maybe they debated murder strategies over catered lunch? Instead, they headed straight for the shelves, which housed mission reports, secrets, and undoubtedly some awkward office gossip.

    "Look at all this organization," Lucifer muttered, gesturing at the meticulously labeled files. "Even shady cult assassins know how to alphabetize. Meanwhile, I can''t find my socks half the time."

    Isadora rolled her eyes but stayed silent. She had no clue what Lucifer was doing but decided not to ask, partly because she didn''t want to admit she didn''t know what she was supposed to be doing.

    The room was loaded with safety mechanisms that would have made any spy movie proud¡ª pressure sensors, runic locks, and something that looked suspiciously like a magic laser.

    Fortunately, Victor, their friendly neighborhood double agent, had already disabled everything. Truly a team player, Victor, if you ignored his eventual planned disposal... No, Early retirement, would be a better word... two words.

    Lucifer quietly leafed through files, pretending to search for Noel''s mission details. In reality, he was casually checking out older batches of documents. Why? Who knows. Maybe he was hoping to stumble upon embarrassing baby photos of the church leaders. Meanwhile, Isadora browsed aimlessly, completely unaware of her partner''s not-so-noble intentions.

    Finally, Lucifer found what he was looking for. "Isadora!" he called, holding up a file triumphantly.

    "What?" Isadora snapped to attention, nearly dropping a folder she''d pulled. She hastily shoved it back into place and rushed over. "Did you find Noel''s file?"

    "Not exactly," Lucifer said with a grin that could light up a dark alley¡ª or maybe just creep out anyone who saw it. "This one''s about you."

    Isadora snatched the file, her curiosity instantly piqued. "Lemme see," she demanded, pulling it closer as they read it together.

    Subject 01167

    Name: Isadora Saight (Currently under the name Isadora Rivet)

    Age: 19

    Relation: Neutral (Controlled by ally)

    Origin: Lambar Village (Destroyed)

    Specialty (If any):

    Believed to have completely digested divine power from a Lunaflame flower that held divine strength due to unknown causes. To be kept under constant watch for any anomalies. Subject displays enhanced resilience and latent ethercraft potential linked to exposure to the Lunaflame.

    Data:

    Valuable asset. Retrieved from the village following an incident resulting in the destruction of its population. Subject 01167 and Subject 01166 both having similar attributes were subjected to experimental ethercraft procedures. Subject 01166 had perished due to constant and consecutive experiments, with traces of the Subject''s divine power consolidating within Subject 01167. Further experiments suspended indefinitely to preserve asset viability, Subject 01167 had been noticed of Subject 01166''s unfortunate demise over an accident in the lab.

    The Subject displays psychological imprints associated with the Lunaflame, potentially due to childhood exposure and personal trauma linked to its significance. Mission details indicate Subject 01167 was placed under the guardianship of Master Noel Rivet through unspecified agreements involving debt repayment or leverage.

    Notes on Lambar Village: Incident caused significant loss of life (Reports suggest everyone in the village had been killed). Survivors reduced to Subject 01167 and Subject 01166 (deceased). S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The investigation results have revealed it to be done by the two holders of Lunaflame''s divine power. Post-incident evaluations indicate traces of advanced fire ethercraft manipulation at the site. Unverified accounts mention the continued blooming of the Lunaflame near the destruction, an anomaly that verifies previous thoughts of the involvement of a Lunaflame with divine power.

    Recommended Actions:

    Monitor the Subject for signs of destabilization or irregular ethercraft activity. Continue surveillance under Master Noel Rivet''s discretion. Limit direct interaction to prevent potential triggers related to the subject''s unresolved trauma.

    ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª

    The more Isadora read, the angrier she became. Her grip on the file tightened as if she might crush the paper through sheer indignation. "What is this?" she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. "If I am 01167, then 01166 should be my sister¡ª they KILLED her? It wasn''t an accident?"

    Lucifer frowned, genuinely surprised. "I thought Master mentioned something about documents showing you were being used, but¡­ this? This is straight-up mad scientist territory."

    "''Posing as my husband''?" Isadora spat, her eyes blazing with fury. "Noel asked me to marry him. That wasn''t part of some shady deal!"

    Lucifer gave her a sidelong glance. "You sure about that? I mean, I know you''re head over heels for the guy, but this whole ''subject'' thing kinda suggests some strings were attached."

    Isadora shot him a glare that could have vaporized him on the spot. "I swear, if you say one more word¡ª "

    Lucifer held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, don''t shoot the messenger. Or, you know, punch me in the face."

    As they continued reading, Lucifer couldn''t help but add commentary. "''Divine power absorbed''¡­ ''unique ethercraft potential''¡­ Honestly, this sounds like the plot of a bad dime novel. Next thing you know, they''ll say you have a secret twin or something."

    Isadora didn''t respond, too busy processing the revelation that her life had been reduced to a clinical report. The words "valuable asset" echoed in her mind, making her feel more like an object than a person.

    Lucifer glanced at her, noticing her clenched fists. "Hey," he said, his tone unusually soft. "You okay?"

    "No," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Lucifer nodded, for once not cracking a joke. "Then let''s burn this place down when we''re done."

    "That''s the first good idea you''ve had all day," she muttered.

    "Hey, I''ve had plenty of good ideas. You''re just too stubborn to admit it." He paused, "Shall we look for Noel then?"

    "Yeah, I am gonna personally see to his person."

 Chapter 159 - 159: Why do they look so horseâ€”ey if theyre not?

    Judge and his master strutted out of the railway station like they''d just robbed a candy shop but didn''t quite have the nerve to run. The capital stretched out before them, a chaotic mess of architectural ambition and public transportation chaos. The air smelled faintly of coal, horse manure, and that special brand of sweat reserved for people who just missed their trains. Truly, a welcoming aroma.

    Seraphis, now disguised as Saphiel¡ª the world''s most intimidating mercenary who also happened to be cosplaying as a merc guild big shot¡ª adjusted his coat with the air of someone who had better things to do but somehow still ended up here.

    Known far and wide as the "Netherwalker" (a title that sounded like it came from a particularly edgy teenager''s diary), Saphiel wasn''t just a flame-controlling powerhouse; he was the mercenary guild equivalent of a rock star. Literally, the dude punches rocks and turns them into tiny crumbles that resemble the stars in the night sky... without light pollution.

    Meanwhile, Judge was doing his best impression of someone who didn''t care what people thought of him¡ª which was, of course, ruined by the fact that he was wearing a plain white mask with an unsettling smile that screamed, ''I''m totally normal, don''t look at me.'' His black hoodie wasn''t helping either.

    His current alias, Dorian Caine, had somehow garnered the nickname "Fear''s Eye," which was probably just a polite way of saying, "That rookie merc looks like he might snap at any moment." But hey, he was also the lucky apprentice of the Netherwalker, so who''s laughing now?

    Reflecting on his genius master-plan-turned-accidental-success, Judge couldn''t help but feel smug. He''d originally aimed to cozy up to some merc higher-up to deal with the shady assassin gatherings in Limdon¡ª a strategy that was supposed to take forever. Instead, he landed himself a mentor who, shockingly, seemed to actually care about him. Life was weird sometimes.

    "You know," Judge began, tilting his head as he looked around, "this place smells like progress and poor decisions."

    Saphiel side-eyed him. "It''s the coal."

    "Really? Because I think it''s that guy over there," Judge said, pointing to a man who was trying¡ª and failing¡ª to balance six chickens in a single crate. "He looks like he''s making all kinds of bad life choices."

    "Focus, Dorian," Saphiel muttered. "We have business to handle."

    "Right, right. Business. Totally not here to sightsee," Judge replied, though his eyes were clearly darting toward a food stand selling something that looked suspiciously like fried rat on a stick.

    They surveyed the bustling scene in front of the station. A line of carriages waited patiently for customers, their ghostly specter-horses swishing tails that didn''t even exist. Passengers streamed toward the nearby metro station like ants marching to their queen.

    Judge made a beeline for one of the carriages, with Saphiel trailing a step behind, likely taking in the old scenery. The place had an air of nostalgia for her¡ª back when she wasn''t Saphiel but just Seraphis, a bright-eyed student at the academy who probably thought life would be less...complicated to say the least.

    Judge''s attention was immediately captured by one of the ghostly specter-horses. The creature was in the middle of some bizarre grooming ritual, brushing its back leg with a hoof in a way that made it look like it had just remembered it left the stove on at home.

    "What''s that horse doing?" Judge asked, stopping in his tracks. He pointed at the specter-horse with the enthusiasm of someone who had just discovered free Wi-Fi. "Is it just...horsing around? Get it? Because it''s a horse!"

    The silence that followed was deafening.

    Saphiel turned to his disciple with a look so tragic, it could have been used as a textbook example of pity. Her face was speaking words that never needed to be spoken, ''That was so bad I''m considering hiring a therapist¡ª for both of us.''

    "...No?" Judge asked weakly. "Too much?"

    "Dorian," Saphiel said slowly, "You are better than this."

    "Am I, though?" Judge replied, scratching the back of his head. "I feel like this is my peak."

    "No. Your peak is much lower than this," Saphiel deadpanned. "And for the record, they''re specters, not horses."

    "Well, at least they''re horse-shaped," Judge argued, gesturing dramatically. "And if it looks like a horse and prances like a horse¡ª "

    "It''s still not a horse," Saphiel cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to physically ward off a headache. "Let''s just get on with it before someone thinks we''re insane."

    "Too late," Judge muttered under his breath, but he obediently followed his master toward one of the carriages.

    As they climbed in, Judge couldn''t help but notice how the interior smelled faintly of cinnamon and despair¡ª a combination he found oddly comforting. "You know," he said as the carriage began to move, "I once read that cinnamon is supposed to ward off evil spirits. Or was it mosquitoes? Either way, it''s working."

    With a long-suffering sigh that carried the weight of a thousand dad jokes, Saphiel entered a carriage. They were in the capital to meet one of Judge''s underlings and another soon-to-be underling, who was already conveniently...under control.

    Lucifer and Isadora, the duo in question, had failed to uncover anything about Noel''s whereabouts, little did they know that they searching an assassination organization for proof of their missions. Talk about searching for ice cream in a dessert¡ª you would be lucky to find water.

    All they found was various cases of experiment results that read more like ''Top 10 Evil Science Projects You Shouldn''t Try at Home.'' Seriously, it was less hitman, and more mad scientist.

    Judge and Saphiel''s carriage ride to the northern borough was a quiet affair¡ªmostly because Judge had run out of bad jokes. Forty-seven minutes later (yes, Judge counted), they arrived at a dingy little inn at the edge of civilization. Judge handed the driver 20 nen for his trouble¡ªa generous sum that would probably have the driver recommending him to his colleagues.

    Judge was rich, but it was high time he controlled his spending. But the toxic pride of being a Drakonis and a former tycoon did not allow him to hold back when it comes to spending money on the most unnecessary things imaginable.

    The inn itself was exactly as unimpressive as Judge had imagined: creaky wooden floors, peeling wallpaper, and a front desk clerk who looked like they hadn''t slept since the last lunar eclipse.

    Judge knocked on a door marked with three parallel lines after confirming Lucifer was in that room.

    Lucifer opened the door almost immediately, his expression a mix of surprise and mild annoyance. "Where''s Noel?" he demanded, looking past Judge like the missing person might materialize out of thin air.

    "Nice to see you too," Judge said, stepping inside. "And surprise! I brought my teacher. Aren''t you thrilled?"

    Lucifer''s gaze shifted to Saphiel, who was leaning against the doorframe with the air of someone who really didn''t want to be there. "This is Saphiel," Judge added helpfully.

    "I know who Saphiel is," Lucifer replied, his tone dripping with skepticism. "But did the Master approve this?" S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Define ''approve,''" Judge said, dodging the question with the skill of a politician at a press conference.

    Lucifer sighed, clearly deciding that he didn''t have the energy to argue. "Fine. Wait here. I''ll get Isadora."

    As Lucifer disappeared down the hall, Judge turned to Saphiel with a grin. "See? That went well."

    "This is your definition of ''well?''" Saphiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "Sure! No one''s dead, no one''s yelling, and I haven''t been kicked out yet. That''s a win in my book."

    Saphiel just shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "I need a vacation."

    While they waited, Judge wandered around the room, poking at random objects like a bored toddler in a museum. "Hey, is this a lamp or some kind of weapon?" he asked, holding up a strange contraption that looked like it could double as both.

    "It''s a lamp," Saphiel replied without looking.

    "Are you sure? Because it''s got this button that¡ª "

    "Don''t press the button."

    Judge pressed the button.

    The lamp immediately started whirring and emitting a high-pitched noise that sounded like a banshee having a bad day. Judge frantically pressed the button again, but the noise only got louder.

    "Why do you never listen?" Saphiel asked, snatching the lamp from Judge''s hands and flipping a switch on the other side to turn it off.

    "I was just trying to¡ª "

    "Don''t."

    "Fair enough... I will just, y''know... sit here."

    When Lucifer finally returned with Isadora in tow, the two of them were greeted by the sight of Judge sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a mug of tea he''d found somewhere, and Saphiel glaring at him like he was debating whether or not to disown him.

    "Am I interrupting something?" Isadora asked, her eyes darting between the two.

    "Just a normal day," Saphiel replied dryly.

 Chapter 160 - 160: A loners guide to philosophy

    As far as Noel could remember, he had always been alone. The orphanage, while a place of shelter, was never a place of warmth¡ª not for him, at least.

    The other children avoided him, like he was carrying some invisible storm cloud that might drench them in gloom if they came too close.

    The caretakers tried their best, speaking to him gently every day, but their words seemed to bounce off the thick, quiet barrier he''d built around himself. They smiled at him with that particular mix of pity and patience reserved for problems they couldn''t solve.

    Loneliness wasn''t something Noel chose; it was simply his state of being, like breathing or blinking. At first, he hated it. He envied the other children with their easy laughter and noisy friendships. But over time, he began to see his solitude differently. Isolation wasn''t an empty room; it was a canvas, waiting for him to paint something worthwhile.

    Still, even profound realizations didn''t protect him from the occasional sting of being an outcast. That day in the yard, when Noel stepped in to help a smaller boy being bullied, he didn''t do it for attention or glory. He did it because it felt like the right thing to do. Unfortunately, righteousness didn''t count for much when you were on the ground, eating dirt, and surrounded by jeering laughter.

    The bullies left him with a bruised face and a heavier heart. "What can a gloomy, useless loner like you do?" their words had cut deeper than their fists.

    But later that night, as he lay staring at the cracked ceiling, those words began to shift in his mind. What could he do? If life insisted on leaving him to fend for himself, then perhaps he should become someone worth depending on.

    Noel decided he would grow¡ª not to impress anyone or to silence the laughter of others, but to carve something meaningful out of the silence that had always surrounded him. Solitude, he realized, wasn''t just a shadow to bear; it was a space to grow, like a tree flourishing in a quiet forest.

    The next morning, his training began. He woke before the others, slipping out into the yard to run laps. His first attempt was less "heroic discipline" and more "wheezy mess." After just two circuits, he collapsed against the fence, gasping. "So this is how I die," he thought, half-joking and entirely out of breath.

    In the evenings, he practiced push-ups in the dim basement, cursing gravity under his breath. He sparred with his shadow on the wall, which had the decency not to hit back. And in between, he read¡ª anything he could get his hands on. Old books on martial arts, the wisdom of long-dead philosophers, even a dog-eared manual on posture that promised to make him "confident in three easy steps."

    Through all this, Noel learned something about solitude. It wasn''t just the absence of people; it was an open field where a person could build something from nothing. It was a space that asked difficult questions: Could he stand tall without a hand to hold? Could he find meaning in silence? Could he laugh, even if no one else was around to hear?

    The answers came slowly, shaped by every push-up and every scraped knee. Solitude, he realized, was both the challenge and the reward. It demanded resilience but offered clarity in return. It was like the quiet after a storm¡ª not empty, but full of possibility.

    His progress was uneven and full of small, funny moments that only he was there to witness. Like the time he tried to do a fancy kick he''d seen in a book and ended up flat on his back, staring at the rafters. "Good effort, Noel," he thought wryly, brushing off the dust. "Next time, try aiming for up."

    Years passed, and the boy who once felt like a shadow himself grew stronger. His body hardened from training, and his mind sharpened from endless reflection. He carried himself differently now, his posture straighter, his steps more purposeful. He didn''t seek attention, but he noticed how the other children sometimes glanced his way with something close to curiosity¡ª or maybe respect.

    Still, Noel remained grounded. Strength, he learned, wasn''t about proving others wrong; it was about being able to stand firm when no one else was there. Solitude wasn''t a void; it was the foundation beneath his feet.

    When Noel turned sixteen, the orphanage declared him a proper adult, though he felt anything but. Still, the weight of solitude had taught him one thing: a bird doesn''t wait to feel ready before it takes to the skies. With no destination in mind, he packed what little he had and left the orphanage behind, setting off into a world that stretched vast and uncertain before him.

    It didn''t take long for Noel to realize that solitude was oddly suited to the road. Alone, there were no arguments over which path to take, no compromises over when to stop or where to eat. He walked at his own pace, sang terribly without fear of judgment, and shared his meals with the occasional curious squirrel. "See, solitude?" he mused to the empty trail one day. "You''re not so bad when it''s just us and the trees."

    But even the most dedicated loner finds their path crossing with others. Noel met them one by one¡ª outcasts like himself, each carrying their own scars and stories. There was Mara, a sharp-tongued mercenary with a laugh that could shatter walls, and Calen, a healer with a quiet sadness in his eyes that Noel recognized all too well. And then there was Rin, a thief who swore she didn''t need anyone but somehow never left their side. Together, they formed a band of misfits who, against all odds, fit together.

    "A journey is like a river," Noel once told them as they sat around a campfire. "You think you''re moving forward, but really, the river''s carrying you. The people you meet along the way? They''re the ripples that make the ride interesting." Rin threw a twig at him for being "too deep," but the smile on her face betrayed her affection.

    For years, they wandered, chasing quests that paid just enough to keep them fed and dreams that always seemed just out of reach. They laughed, fought, and grew together, becoming the family Noel had never known he needed.

    But life, as Noel had learned, was not one for guarantees. On his twenty-second birthday, they stopped in a small village¡ª a peaceful place that seemed untouched by the world''s cruelties. That peace was shattered by nightfall.

    The monsters came without warning¡ª two towering creatures of pinkish-blue flame that moved like living nightmares. They burned through the village with a terrible flame that burned anything it touched. Noel and his companions fought with everything they had, but their strength was not enough.

    By dawn, the village was ash, and Noel stood among the ruins, the bodies of his friends lying still in the soot. For a moment, he thought the weight of his grief might crush him. But then, from the wreckage, he heard faint cries. Two young girls who looked around fifteen, the only survivors, clung to each other amidst the rubble. Noel knelt before them, his heart breaking anew.

    "Sometimes the journey takes more than it gives, but as long as there''s someone to carry forward, the path goes on." he learned through tears that he never could shed as he helped the weeping girls into his arms. "

    In the ruins of that village, Noel met an assassin¡ª he was cold and efficient, but curious about the monsters that had caused such devastation. The assassin''s organization sought answers, and Noel, burdened with grief and a need to keep the girls safe, joined them.

    The organization was connected to the church of night, and he became one of the few blessed of goddess Umbra. The ability that he received was to create a domain out of shadows. But he never could control it properly.

    Years passed, and the sisters, Asha and Isadora, grew under his care. Asha, the older of the two, was a curious and fearless soul who often got into trouble, while Isadora, more reserved, trained diligently as an assassin. Tragedy struck again when Asha, experimenting with a volatile substance in the organization''s lab, lost her life in an accident.

    Noel''s grief resurfaced, but this time he had someone who shared it. Isadora, now a young woman, stood by him, and together they shared the pain. Their bond deepened over time, developed by shared loss and a mutual respect that had grown unnoticed.

    By the time Noel was twenty-five, he realized something that startled him: Isadora was no longer the little girl he had once protected. She had become his equal, his partner, and¡ª though he hesitated to admit it¡ª even his reason to keep going. When he finally proposed, it was without fanfare, just a simple moment shared under the stars.

    "Marriage," he said with a lopsided smile, "is just another journey. And I think I''m done walking this road alone."

    Isadora laughed, punching his arm lightly before saying yes.

    His life was not one without challenges, one he had always emerged victorious from. But he felt all his strength fade as he saw his dear wife, Isadora Rivet, driving a sword through his gut.

    He remembered the day when he was tasked to monitor her since he was the closest, he had said that he would have anyway and also mentioned about his inability to protect his sister, and this was a debt he could never repay in full.

    He had proposed her out of pure love...

    but why was she killing him? A single thought passed his mind as he saw Isadora in tears and a blade passing through his gut.

    There were other people in the room, but he could not see them. His attention was solely focused on the only person left in the world that he truly cared for.

    He tried to open his mouth, but he could not speak a word, I am sorry Isadora He thought to himself, I am sorry for not rescuing your sister even after knowing she was a lab rat. I knew all along, it was you and your sister who were the monsters right? I always wanted to kill whomever it was that killed my friends, but it was you¡ª I could never kill you... only... love. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    His weak lips revealed a smile that took up all the energy he had left.

    Haa what a fool I am. He thought, Even as you dig my grave, I worry about your fingers getting hurt.

    The moments of him with Isadora slowly played in his mind like a life recap as he took his last breath. A fleeting end for a loner who always sought family, but always ended up in solitude. Now he died by the hands of someone who shared his solitude¡ª someone who was lonely just like him.

    Goodbye... Isadora!

 Chapter 161 - 161: Congratulations, Youâ€™re Officially Patience Now!

    Judge snapped his finger like he had reversed this same exact script fifteen times in front of the mirror today.

    There appeared an unconscious white male body of a poor assassin matched up with a phoenix when all odds where against him, bless his poor soul. Isadora stared at Noel''s unconscious body like she could really use a blowtorch right know.

    Subject 01167¡ª a text passed through her mind, Subject 01166 had perished due to constant and consecutive experiments, Subject 01167 was placed under the guardianship of Master Noel Rivet.

    Isadora could not take it anymore, she took a silver long knife she always hed since her training days and drove it through Noel Rivet''s heart. Aiming to kill him instantly as a finally act of mercy for rescuing her when she was a child.

    Noel didn''t have much time to register his fate. One moment he was busy trying to wake up, and the next, an unseen force¡ªperhaps fate itself¡ªdecided to end his story.

    A soft shimmer of ether surrounded him, subtle but unnervingly deliberate. Judge tilted his head ever so slightly, his grin frozen in place but the gleam in his eye betraying a flicker of anticipation.

    The air twisted. A sharp, slicing sound filled the room, Noel tried to speak, but was abruptly cut off. His body stiffened as if struck by lightning, his expression frozen in mild confusion. Then, with a soft smile, he crumpled to the floor, his gaze fixed in Isadora''s eyes.

    Silence.

    Judge stepped forward, his boots clicking sharply against the cold, unforgiving floor. His expression, for once, softened into something resembling solemnity, though the smile etched into his mask betrayed the truth: this was all part of his grand plan.

    Isadora stared at Noel''s lifeless form, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Whatever fury she had carried moments ago had dissipated, replaced by a hollow ache that swallowed her whole.

    "He''s...he''s gone," she whispered, her voice trembling.

    Judge crouched beside Noel''s body, resting a hand lightly on the man''s shoulder. "Yes," he said simply, almost kindly. "His chapter has ended." He paused, turning to look at Isadora. "But your story...it isn''t finished yet. You were being used, and now you are free."

    Her gaze snapped to him, her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "What are you talking about? This was all I had left. He was all I had left, even after¡ª" Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. "¡ªafter everything... I have nothing now. Nothing."

    Judge straightened, brushing off his coat as if shaking off her despair. "Nothing, you say?" he mused. "No ties, no purpose, no place to belong. And yet..." He gestured vaguely around them, as though indicating something far larger than the room they stood in. "The world keeps turning, doesn''t it? Stories unfold, lives intertwine, and somewhere out there, someone will need to know this one."

    Her brows furrowed, confusion momentarily breaking through her grief. "What are you getting at?"

    Judge stepped closer, his presence looming yet oddly comforting. "You''ve lost everything," he said, his tone soft but deliberate. "But that doesn''t mean you''re finished. You''ve seen what happens when people''s stories are left untold¡ªwhen legacies are lost to time and memory. But what if you could change that?"

    "Change it?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Yes." His eyes gleamed behind the mask. "We serve a master, Isadora, me and Lucifer both. A gathering of those who understand the weight of stories¡ªthe importance of recording them, of preserving them for all eternity. We are called the Recorders, and our task is simple yet profound: to ensure that no story, no matter how small or fleeting, if it catches our eyes, it is never forgotten."

    She stared at him, her emotions warring behind her tired eyes. "And what do you want from me?"

    "I want you to join us," Judge said plainly, extending a hand. "Become a Recorder. Let your pain, your loss, fuel something greater than yourself. Record the stories of this world, Isadora. Make sure Noel''s story, your story, isn''t lost." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lucifer, who had been leaning nonchalantly against a wall, finally stepped forward, his presence carrying the quiet authority of someone who knew far too much and enjoyed it. "Judge speaks the truth, Isadora," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle.

    "Your pain, your loss¡ªthey''ve shaped you. But they don''t have to define you. Join us. Become part of something greater. Maybe, just maybe, we can give you a purpose to live on. Death is not always the ending one might be looking forward to."

    Her gaze dropped to Judge''s outstretched hand, then to Noel''s body, and back to him. "And what happens to me?"

    "You will belong," he replied, his voice low and steady. "You will have purpose. And perhaps, in time, you will find peace."

    She hesitated, her hand hovering just above his. "And who are you really? What gives you the right to do this?"

    Judge''s grin widened, his tone suddenly lighter, almost playful. "I''m just the humble attendant of a god," he said with a flourish. "A simple storyteller, weaving the threads of fate and guiding those willing to listen. Nothing more, nothing less."

    Lucifer suddenly turned to look at Judge, but turned back to Isadora as if telling him that they would have a personal talk later.

    "What was the organization''s name again?" Her tone suggested that her mind was at conflict at whether to accept and try to live even though she does not want to. But only the sharpest of listeners could tell whether she was in conflict. Which, unfortunately for her, was all three of the people present in the room.

    Judge''s grin widened. "The Recorders," he announced with a dramatic flourish. "A gathering of storytellers, chroniclers of the world''s greatest tales. We serve the Observer, the master of stories and the attendant of the god who weaves fate itself."

    At the mention of the Observer, even Lucifer''s usual smugness seemed to fade, replaced by a reverent nod.

    Saphiel, sitting quietly in the corner as though she were a mere spectator to a play she''d seen a hundred times, finally stirred. Her expression was unreadable, her silence as heavy as the scene unfolding before her.

    "But didn''t you just say you are the attendant of god?" She was trying to make sure there are no loose ends, the assassin''s betrayal taught her well.

    "AH! I am indeed an attendant, but my rank is beneath that of the observer." He explained, "So I say that I serve him even though I am also an attendant of god."

    Lucifer looked at him again, but this time it was that they won''t have any personal talk later.

    For a long moment, Isadora remained still, her grief and anger warring with the faint spark of hope he had ignited.

    Judge turned back to Isadora after staring at Lucifer, his tone softening. "You''ve lost much, Isadora. But there''s a way forward. A purpose. Take this." He produced a mask from his coat, identical to the one she already carried¡ªplain white with a smiling face¡ªbut somehow radiating an air of finality, as though it symbolized a step from one world into another.

    "But¡­ I already have one," she said hesitantly, pulling her mask from her belt and holding it up.

    "Yes," Judge acknowledged, "but that one was simply a symbol of your potential. This," he held out the new mask, "is an invitation. Accept it, and you''ll no longer be a wandering soul without a place to belong. You''ll be Barachiel, the Virtue of Patience, a Recorder of the Observer."

    Isadora stared at the mask, her fingers hovering over it like she was afraid it might burn her. "And if I accept?"

    "Then you''ll officially become one of us," Judge said, his tone warm yet insidious. "And all your pain, your doubts¡­ they''ll become fuel for something far greater."

    Lucifer nodded approvingly. "It''s what the Observer desires. Your potential is undeniable."

    Still, Isadora hesitated. The weight of her decision hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

    "Fine," Finally, she said quietly. "I''ll join your Recorders. But if you''re lying¡ª"

    She reached out, her fingers brushing against the mask. As she took it, Judge''s grin seemed to grow, the faintest glimmer of triumph flickering in his eyes.

    "Welcome to the Recorders, Barachiel," he said, his voice as smooth as honey and twice as sticky.

    "Oh, my dear Barachiel," Judge interrupted, his voice a mix of amusement and sincerity, "you''ll find that truth, like stories, is often stranger than fiction. Welcome aboard."

    Isadora lifted the mask, her hands trembling, and placed it over her tear-streaked face. As it settled into place, the line between her mask and her face disappeared, her posture straightened, and a strange calm seemed to wash over her.

    Lucifer smiled behind his mask, "Welcome aboard, Barachiel, I''m not sure how to say this¡ª but I''m truly delighted to have you."

    Saphiel remained silent, her gaze fixed on the newly anointed Barachiel. Whatever she thought of the situation, she kept it to herself.

    Suddenly, Judge felt a warm pain in his hand. He removed his glove to look at what was going on¡ª there, on the back of his hand a rune glowed.

    Two spirals were drawn inside an ellipse, one clockwise and the other the opposite. there were two wide arcs that connected the center of each, making another ellipse inside.

    This was the rune for teleportation, if he touched it, he would go to his home¡ª but his mother would know his location.

    "Teacher!" He called out to Saphiel, who understood what he meant, "I will come with you." He sighed.

 Chapter 162 - 162: Ahh! Too bright

    Clarus, the capital city of light, stood in eternal brilliance under a sun that refused to set, like an overly enthusiastic stagehand who didn''t know when to dim the spotlight. It was a place of divine grandeur, the holy ground of Veritas, God of Light and Truth¡ªa deity whose worshippers had built a city so radiant that anyone entering it without sunglasses would leave with a lifetime supply of squints.

    Today, Clarus was abuzz with anticipation, as pilgrims from all corners of the land were making their way to the Grand Church of Light, a cathedral so bright it might as well have been the sun''s understudy. These pilgrims, representing every race imaginable, had come to complete their sacred journey at the holiest of sites, the very place where Veritas was said to have first descended in a blaze of glory that probably put the northern lights to shame.

    Away from the bustling crowd, on an elevated platform with a roof above and a tea table, one particular Avian stood perched on a marble balustrade, her pristine white wings gleaming like freshly polished porcelain bowl.

    Flora, ever the dreamer, had taken it upon herself to observe the newcomers with the kind of detached curiosity one might reserve for an unusually shaped cloud.

    Her father, however, had a different agenda.

    "Flora," his voice boomed, cutting through the chatter like a gong at a meditation retreat, "why are you dawdling here when there''s work to be done?"

    Flora turned, her serene smile never faltering. "Father, I''m appreciating the diversity of life."

    "More like you''re avoiding your responsibilities," he countered, his eyes narrowing. Lord Solis, her father, was a figure of undeniable authority, his presence commanding respect, fear, and the occasional awkward bow.

    His humanoid form was practically different from the others of the race, he had two glowing portrutions on his head and a faint luminescence that seemed to radiate from his skin, as if he were a lantern trying to pass as a person.

    "Not true," Flora replied, tilting her head in mock innocence. "I''m merely¡­ delegating them to the capable hands of others. Besides, the pilgrims are perfectly fine without me fluttering about."

    "Delegating?" Solis repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. "Your sister Celeste is practically losing feathers trying to keep things in order. Do you think Veritas entrusted our family with the regency of Clarus so you could sit around making idle observations?"

    "No," Flora admitted, her wings twitching slightly. "But I do think he''d appreciate someone taking the time to notice the little things."

    Solis pinched the bridge of his nose, a decidedly human gesture for someone who was technically above such mortal frustrations. "Flora, your idealism is admirable, but it''s also profoundly impractical. The Church of Light thrives on order, discipline, and unwavering faith. If we falter, even for a moment¡­"

    "The vampires," Flora finished softly, her usual levity giving way to something more somber. "You think they''re still a threat."

    "I know they are," Solis said, his voice grave. "Our eternal daylight is not just a blessing; it''s a shield. The Nocturns have never forgiven us for what happened during the War of the Two Suns."

    Flora''s gaze drifted to the horizon, where the sun blazed unchallenged. "And yet, we''ve grown so used to the light that we''ve forgotten what it''s like to stand in the dark."

    "Exactly," Solis said, mistaking her contemplative tone for agreement. "Which is why vigilance is paramount. Now, please, go assist your sister."

    With a resigned sigh, Flora unfolded her wings and prepared to take flight. "As you wish, Father. But one day, you''ll see the value in noticing the little things."

    Solis watched her go, shaking his head. "Not if those little things get us all killed," he muttered. "When is this girl going to grow up?"

    Meanwhile, down in the bustling streets, the pilgrims were causing quite the commotion. Merchants hawked their wares with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested they''d happily sell their own shadows if they weren''t already extinct. Street performers juggled glowing orbs of ether, eliciting gasps and cheers from the crowd. And somewhere in the mix was a figure who did not belong.

    This individual moved with an unsettling fineness, his humanoid form unremarkable save for the faintly elongated canines that peeked out whenever he smiled. He kept to the shadows¡ªor what passed for shadows in a city where the sun was contractually obligated to never clock out¡ªand his eyes glinted with a predatory hunger.

    "Not yet," He muttered to himself in a faint voice.

    In the Grand Church of Light, Celeste was overseeing the preparations for the evening''s ceremony, her demeanor was crisp and unyielding like freshly ironed linen. "The altar must be spotless," she instructed a hapless acolyte who was already sweating under the weight of her scrutiny. "If I see even a speck of dust, I''ll personally ensure you spend the next month scrubbing the cathedral steps with a toothbrush."

    The acolyte nodded fervently, scurrying off to fulfill her demands. Celeste turned her attention to the choir, who were rehearsing a hymn that sounded like a cross between a lullaby and a battle cry. "Remember," she called out, "the crescendo must be divine! We are singing for Veritas himself, not a tavern full of drunkards!"

    "If Veritas likes hymns so much, why doesn''t he write his own?" Flora''s voice cut through the room as she sauntered in, her wings trailing lazily behind her.

    Celeste spun around, her eyes narrowing. "Flora. You''re late."

    "I prefer to think of it as fashionably delayed," Flora replied, flashing a disarming smile. "Besides, you''re doing such a marvelous job. I didn''t want to overshadow you."

    "Overshadow me?" Celeste repeated, her voice icy. "The only thing you''re overshadowing is your own potential."

    Before Flora could retort, a commotion erupted outside. The sound of raised voices and hurried footsteps drew their attention, and Celeste''s expression shifted from irritation to alarm. "What now?" she muttered, striding toward the entrance.

    Flora followed, her curiosity piqued. The scene that greeted them was one of chaos: a group of pilgrims had gathered around a collapsed figure, their murmurs a mix of concern and fear.

    "What happened?" Celeste demanded, pushing her way through the crowd.

    "It''s one of the pilgrims," a voice replied. "He just¡­ collapsed."

    Flora knelt beside the fallen individual, her sharp eyes taking in the pale complexion and shallow breathing. "He''s unwell," she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "We need to get him inside."

    As they carried the man into the church, Flora couldn''t shake the feeling that something was amiss. There was a faint, almost imperceptible scent in the air¡ªa metallic tang that set her instincts on edge. She glanced at the man''s face and noticed his lips moving, though no sound emerged.

    Later that evening, as the sun continued its relentless vigil, Flora stood on one of the church''s balconies, her mind racing. Her father''s warnings echoed in her ears, but so did her own thoughts: If the light were to falter, even for a moment, what would happen to Clarus? To its people?

    The sound of footsteps pulled her from her musings. Solis approached, his expression unreadable. "You''ve been quiet tonight," he observed, his tone soft but probing.

    "I''ve been thinking," Flora admitted. "About the balance we''ve struck here. The light protects us, but it also blinds us to certain truths."

    Solis nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "The light is both a gift and a responsibility. It illuminates, but it also casts shadows. You must learn to navigate both."

    "And if the shadows fight back?" Flora asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Then we must be ready," Solis replied. "But remember, the shadows aren''t always our enemies. Sometimes, they reveal what the light hides."

    Flora studied her father, sensing the weight of his words. "You''ve seen more than you let on, haven''t you?"

    Solis offered a faint smile, the kind that spoke of burdens carried in silence. "One day, you''ll understand."

    Unbeknownst to them, the shadowy figure had infiltrated the church''s inner sanctum, his movements fluid and deliberate. He moved as if he knew everything about the place, he cleverly avoided traps and passed through a few that could not be avoided, but there was no reaction.

    The guards somehow failed to notice him.

    The vampire''s sharp disgust of Veritas guided him to the holy artifact, the source of Clarus''s eternal light. It was a glowing orb surrounded by two radiant rings, they were spinning around the orb slowly.

    As his fingers brushed against its radiant surface, a jolt of energy coursed through them, and their lips curled into a sinister smile, even as his palm began to melt.

    Flora felt a sudden chill, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. She turned to Solis, her voice urgent. "Father, we need to check the sanctum."

    Solis''s expression hardened, and together they hurried toward the artifact''s chamber. But as they approached, the light dimmed ever so slightly¡ªa change so subtle it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else.

    The vampire paused, his work momentarily halted as he sensed the approaching Avian duo. He slipped into the corner, his presence well-hidden and undetectable, but his intent crystal clear. Tonight, Clarus''s unyielding light would face its first real test.

    As Flora and Solis stepped into the sanctum, the room''s brightness seemed to waver, and an uneasy silence settled over them. "Father," Flora began, her voice trembling, "something''s not right."

    And then, as if on cue, the eternal light flickered. But that brief moment was enough to envelop Flora in the orange evening sky she had never seen before, through the glass-paned roof¡ª it was beautiful beyond words could tell.

    For the first time in her life, she felt as though time itself had stopped¡ª just for her. But her attention was quickly shifted to the artifact, it was gone.

    swish!

    A head rolled on the floor, a woman¡ª Staring at Flora''s body, about to open her wings in surprise.

    "Sis-ter?"

    (End of volume 2)

    S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 163 - 163: Why am I always the one punished? - Judge (Obviously)

    "Relax, Eleyn, I brought him out of Terra Draconum," Seraphis said, her tone dripping with the kind of calm only a person who''s just done something unthinkable can muster. Her white hair shimmered faintly under the warm glow of Eleyn''s ornate chandelier, a stark contrast to the fiery storm brewing in Eleyn''s piercing ashen white eyes.

    Eleyn shot her a look that could only be described as ''why did you kidnap my child with questionable decision-making skills?'' It was the kind of expression that would make even seasoned warriors reconsider their life choices.

    "Fine," Eleyn hissed, her voice the embodiment of restrained fury. "Let''s hear it then." She quickly pivoted her attention to Judge, who was kneeling on the floor like he was auditioning for Saint of the Year. "But let me make one thing clear, young man¡ªthis DOES NOT mean you''re off the hook."

    Judge, in all his crimson-cloaked, green-vested glory, nodded solemnly, though the perpetual smile on his mask made it hard to tell if he was genuinely remorseful or secretly plotting his next escapade.

    Eleyn quickly removed the mask that seemed to let Judge make whatever face he wants. This was not somewhere he can plot.

    Seraphis clapped her hands together, the sound was crisp and authoritative, as if signaling the start of a long, winding tale. "Alright, let me start from the beginning. Context is key, after all. First of all¡ªhi again, Eleyn! It''s been, what, ten? Fifteen years since we last saw each other? I''ve lost count to be honest. You''re looking as radiant as ever. Secondly¡ªand this is very important¡ªmy egg hatched... early, very early."

    Eleyn''s stern demeanor wavered at the mention of an egg. Her eyes lit up with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for discovering a sale on priceless magical artifacts. "What? Where?" she asked, her voice brimming with curiosity. "When did it hatch? Why didn''t you tell me sooner?"

    Seraphis sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping as though she carried the weight of the world¡ªor at least a particularly heavy burden of regret. "That''s where the tragedy begins," she said, leaning into her storytelling mode like a bard about to earn a standing ovation. "Right after my sweet, precious baby hatched, she was kidnapped."

    Eleyn gasped, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. "Huh?! Kidnapped? By whom?"

    Seraphis gestured vaguely with her hands. "Exactly what I said. One moment there she was, perfect and adorable, and the next¡ªpoof! Gone. All I saw were these glowing purple orbs at the scene. Two of them. Menacing. Felt like those divine powers, but strange somehow. And then¡ªpoof!¡ªshe was gone. Corwin and I searched high and low, but we got separated during the search. It''s been three years, Eleyn. Three long years, and I still haven''t found her."

    Eleyn''s eyes narrowed, her mind clearly piecing together clues faster than Judge could concoct an alibi. "Purple orbs, you say?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. "Did you know my son''s eyes can glow purple when his emotions run wild?"

    Judge''s head snapped up so fast it was a miracle his neck didn''t audibly protest. "Mother!" he blurted out, his voice filled with the indignation of someone whose embarrassing secret was just aired to the world. "Do you mind not broadcasting my features like they''re market gossip?"

    Seraphis raised an eyebrow, her expression teetering between genuine surprise and the kind of exaggerated shock only a seasoned performer could pull off. "Really? Purple eyes? That''s fascinating," she said, her voice was filled with curiosity.

    "First I''ve heard of it." She wasn''t lying, technically¡ªjust¡­ editing the truth for dramatic effect. No need for Eleyn to know about Judge''s growing prowess in domain control just yet. That little tidbit could stay tucked away in her mental filing cabinet labeled ''For Later Revelations.'' It was for Judge to tell his mother himself, if he ever wished to do so that is, which Seraphis felt like he would.

    "Anyway," Seraphis continued, steering the conversation back on course, "I actually met Judge during my travels. He caught my attention when I gave him a small test of wits."

    Eleyn tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What kind of test?"

    Seraphis smirked, clearly savoring the memory. "I asked him a hypothetical question: ''Between Illusory Fiend, Veilcrawler, and Shrouded Grasper which one would he prefer to hunt and with wich weapon?'' His answer was intriguing enough for me to decide he needed a proper weapon. So I took him shopping for guns, to Limdon because... well¡ª Terra Draconum doesn''t exactly have a gun store. You wouldn''t believe what he said to me during that trip."

    Eleyn raised an eyebrow, clearly bracing herself for whatever nonsense her son had spouted this time. "What did he say?"

    Seraphis''s grin widened. "When I saw he had been buying high-end arms with no bargaining, I asked him How does he have so much money, and he told me something nostalgic, ''Let''s just say my allowance laughs at your annual salary.''"

    Eleyn groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Of course he did. That''s my son¡ªalways leading with his charm. I told you that when we first met right?"

    Seraphis laughed, the sound rich and full of mirth. "Well, it certainly left an impression. And when asked whether he knew you and he told me he was your son, it all clicked. I decided then and there to take him under my wing as my disciple. He reminded me so much of you, Eleyn. The wit, the audacity, the flair."

    Judge, still kneeling, decided to chime in. "I prefer to think of it as inherited excellence."

    "Quiet, you," Eleyn snapped, though her lips twitched as if suppressing a smile.

    "Anyway," Seraphis continued, clearly on a roll now, "did you know your son can freely change his height? It''s how he''s been masquerading as a mercenary named Dorian Caine. Fear''s Eye, they call him. Quite the reputation he''s built for himself."

    Eleyn''s jaw dropped. "Fear''s Eye? That''s the name they came up with? And JUDGE, what''s with the changing height?"

    Judge coughed, clearly enjoying the spotlight, but taken aback by the sudden outbreak. "I have this principle I yet have to understand completely, but I can disappear to a personal space and alter my body, I do know that it is related to the purple eyes I have.."

    "Hmm, I do have to ask more, but I don''t want to" Eleyn muttered, shaking her head and changing the topic and turning to Seraphis. "My son, a mercenary. What''s next? You tell me he''s secretly a playwright?"

    "Funny you should mention that," Seraphis said, her tone conspiratorial. "Let''s just say he''s picked up a knack for scriptwriting too. I may or may not have been his first audience."

    Eleyn buried her face in her hands, muttering something about "too much like his father" under her breath.

    As the laughter subsided, Seraphis''s expression turned serious. "But enough about that. Eleyn, why did you summon Judge back so abruptly? I had plans for him, you know."

    Eleyn''s face darkened, her tone somber. "I had a premonition," she said, her voice heavy with dread. "If Judge stayed in the place he currently was any longer, he would have died. Strangely, Limdon was said to be a safe city that was harsh on people with no money. Did you guys run into a dangerous band?"

    The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a thick fog. Judge, for once, had no witty retort, his ever-present smile suddenly feeling more like a mask than ever.

    "We were in the capital, but yeah we killed someone from the assassin organization that tried to off your daughter." Seraphis nodded slowly, her eyes flicking to Judge.

    Eleyn smiled as if something clicked, "So that was why Alex was telling he was so proud of Judge that he finally have a son like him."

    "It''s a good thing I brought him back then. I hate to admit, but Judge reminds me too much of Alex. But Eleyn¡­" She hesitated, her voice softening. "If I find my daughter¡ªSelina¡ªI''ll need your help."

    Eleyn reached out, placing a comforting hand on her old friend''s shoulder. "You have my word, Seraphis. We''ll find her together."

    Judge, finally breaking the silence, raised a hand sheepishly. "So, uh, does this mean I''m off the hook?"

    "Not a chance," Eleyn and Seraphis said in unison, their voices ringing with unmistakable authority.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "He is dead," Victor held Noel in his arms as he spoked to another man beside him.

    "How strong are the enemies? Noel even had the blessing of goddess Umbra." The person, Master Thadd, expressed his opinion. "Any info on the ether traces?"

    "No Master Thadd, surprisingly there is no trace of ether."

    "But we did came as fast as we could," He turned to think, "Which means there was no ether involved in killing, any other traces than the blade on his chest? And that blade is ours right?"

    "Yes sir, it is issued to his wife Isadora."

    "Then let''s find her first."

    "Master thadd, his body seems fine, but his blood is strange."

    "How so?" Thadd rushed to the body to inspect, Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "This!..." He yelled in surprise, "The blood seems to have undergone corruption!"

 Chapter 164 - 164: The crimson eclipse

    "The blood seems to have undergone corruption!"

    Master Thadd''s voice cracked like the floorboards in a haunted mansion, and honestly, Victor couldn''t decide if it was fear or just his vocal cords protesting the sheer drama of it all. Either way, the guy sounded spooked, which was rare.

    Thadd wasn''t exactly known for being emotional¡ªunless you counted his passion for chain-smoking and delivering cryptic one-liners like a budget prophet.

    Victor tilted his head. This entity that had apparently RSVP''d to Noel''s demise was starting to sound like a real headliner. And for some reason, it made Victor oddly excited. Not scared¡ªexcited. He wasn''t exactly the "cower in fear" type, unless it was tax season.

    Maybe I''ll surpass Master Thadd someday, Victor thought, barely hiding a smirk. Then I''ll take the throne. Pope Victor the First! The Cool Pope. The Fun Pope. The guy who makes ''Casual Friday'' a holy tradition. He even imagined himself lounging on a throne made of gold, declaring new holidays like "Nap Day" and "Free Pastry Monday."

    "Victor!" Thadd''s bark snapped him out of his daydream, which was a shame because the next part involved him wielding a scepter made entirely of baguettes. Speaking of dream, just the other day he had a wet dre-

    "Yes, Master Thadd?" Victor straightened up, trying to look like someone who hadn''t just been mentally redecorating the papal palace. Or trying to remember his memories when sleeping.

    "Details," Thadd growled, setting Noel''s body down with the same care you''d give a ticking bomb. "I need details about Noel''s recent missions. What could have led to this mess?" His hands landed on Victor''s shoulders, not quite forceful but heavy enough to feel like a weighted blanket¡ªif weighted blankets were judgmental. "We can''t face this enemy without knowing what we''re up against."

    "As you command," Victor said, slipping out of Thadd''s grip like a particularly ambitious bar of soap. "But, uh, forgive me for asking, Master¡ªwhy are you so convinced this blood-corrupting whoever is such a big deal? Do you know them?"

    Thadd let out the kind of sigh that said, Oh, you sweet summer child. He plopped onto the bed, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a flair that suggested he''d practiced for dramatic effect.

    "There''s only one artifact capable of corrupting blood," he said, taking a puff like he was narrating a gritty detective novel. "It''s a nasty piece of work. Drives people insane¡ªlike, full-on paint the walls with conspiracy theories insane. And yet..." He paused for effect because Thadd was nothing if not theatrical. "There''s one person who''s managed to stay sane while using it. They call them the Brute Phoenix."

    Victor''s eyes widened. "Sounds... fiery."

    "But," Thadd continued, ignoring the comment, "there is another name for that person... the name¡ªis the Scarlet Eclipse. The one who brings death under the crimson moon."

    Victor leaned in. "The Scarlet Eclipse? That sounds like a terrible wrestler gimmick. What do they do? Body slam people under a red disco ball?"

    Thadd, unimpressed, took another puff. "No. They bring death under the crimson moon. Are you retarded?"

    Victor blinked. "Crimson moon? Like, what, an evil full moon that decided to go goth?"

    Thadd pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you want answers or not?"

    Victor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. No moon jokes. Tell me more about this spooky eclipse person. But first..." He shifted gears. "About Noel''s recent missions¡ªhere''s what I know."

    He cleared his throat, adopting his best storyteller voice. "So, Noel was tasked with assassinating the young lady from the Drakonis family. Supposedly, he pulled it off. But honestly? I call nonsense. It''s the Drakonis! They probably bleed fire and sneeze explosions. There''s no way he took her out that easily."

    Thadd raised an eyebrow, his silent way of saying go on.

    "The mission itself was dodgy from the start," Victor continued, gesturing like he was narrating a tavern tale. "It showed up on a branch notice board in Limdon instead of going through HQ even though it was such a dangerous mission. Weird, right? And the poor worker who posted it¡ªhe went totally bananas when the police asked him about the massacre in the branch. Like, eyes twitching, foaming at the mouth bananas. Then¡ªget this¡ªthe branch got obliterated right after. Real subtle, whoever did that."

    Victor leaned back, arms crossed like he''d just cracked the world''s biggest conspiracy. "We traced things to the Church of Night¡ªbig surprise there¡ªand got some intel that matched our suspicions. But here''s the kicker: we were warned that their minions are the kind of crazy folks you don''t want to meet in a dark alley. Or a lit alley. Or, you know, anywhere."

    "And Noel''s wife?" Thadd asked, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

    "Oh, right. Isadora." Victor scratched his head. "There were reports of them fighting, but nothing too dramatic. No transforming, no power surges, nothing. We think her energy might''ve stabilized, which is, y''know, science-y mumbo jumbo I won''t pretend to understand. Anyway, after Noel left for his final mission¡ªpoof. No word, no reports. And now here he is, deader than my last attempt at cooking."

    Thadd nodded. Just nodded. Like Victor had just told him about a minor inconvenience, like spilling tea on a new shirt. Or the meat being sold out just before they could buy it for dinner.

    "Then we must find Isadora at all costs," Thadd said firmly. "Have you tried using the ether chaser?"

    Victor smirked. "Already done, Master. Orders are out. I''m expecting results any moment now."

    "Good," Thadd said, leaning back and taking a contemplative drag from his cigarette. "While we wait, let me tell you more about the Scarlet Eclipse."

    Victor didn''t say it, but he was already planning his own smoke break. After all, if he was going to hear about death under a spooky moon, he might as well enjoy it with a cigar in hand.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    During the time when I was still young, naive, and foolishly dreaming of becoming unfathomably strong, my team and I were assigned a mission that was meant to push the limits of our courage¡ªor perhaps reveal the depths of our stupidity. Our task was simple, or so we thought: eliminate the target if the assassination failed to deliver results.

    It was twenty years ago, but the memories are burned into my mind like a brand. And among those memories, one detail stands out with terrifying clarity¡ªthe mask. A plain, black mask, unadorned and devoid of expression, with nothing but two empty holes for eyes. Yet those holes... They stared into you like they could see every sin, every doubt, every flicker of hesitation in your soul.

    To this day, I don''t even know the person''s gender. Perhaps the mask was meant to hide it, or maybe they were something beyond such mortal distinctions. What I do know is that the figure beneath the mask¡ªno, the child beneath the mask¡ªwas no ordinary being.

    Short white hair framed their head, a shocking contrast to the darkness of their mask, and their eyes... I have never seen anything like those eyes. They burned like twin crimson flames, unyielding, unblinking, as if the fires of some ancient, bizarre rage had taken up residence there.

    When they turned those eyes on me, I felt an icy fear grip my very being. It wasn''t fear of death. No, it was the fear of something far worse¡ªit was like a ghost, a force that had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fear, and no reason to hold back. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The assassination attempt? I still don''t know if it succeeded or failed, but I remember the assassins telling us about their plan to inject the poison with a single pin shot from a pipe. They managed to strike, to deliver the venom meant to silence that child forever.

    And yet... they didn''t falter. The child didn''t weaken. Instead, the child changed.

    The transformation was immediate. One moment, the person stood as a mere figure in the shadows, unassuming despite the fiery gaze. The next, it moved¡ªno, the person erupted¡ªwith the ferocity of a wild beast set loose from its cage. Like a mad hound driven to frenzy.

    There were five assassins, each stationed at a carefully chosen vantage point, prepared for every contingency. Or so they thought. Five highly trained killers, getting ready to strike again. But none of them even had the chance to scream.

    They all fell.

    In an instant.

    No warning, no sound, no cry of pain. Just the soft, sickening thuds of lifeless bodies hitting the ground. One moment they were alive, the next, they were not.

 Chapter 165 - 165: Have you heard this new trend called... dying?

    No warning, no sound, no cry of pain. Just the soft, sickening thuds of lifeless bodies hitting the ground. One moment they were alive, the next, they were not.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Master Thadd continued his tale. Taking another puff whenever he stopped briefly. His face looked as if just remembering the memory brought him fear. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    We, the backup fighting squad, were trained to handle the unimaginable. But what we saw that day was something we couldn''t have prepared for in a hundred lifetimes.

    The sky... It changed.

    What had been a clear, moonlit night turned blood-red in the span of a heartbeat. A scralet moon¡ªvast, ominous, and utterly unnatural¡ªhung low behind the child, turning the entire field into a hellscape, barren and thick with the scent of war¡ª blood, metal, and death.

    And then the mask... That plain, black mask that had unnerved me so deeply began to burn.

    Bright red flames consumed it, crackling and roaring as if the fires themselves were alive, it felt extremely hungry for destruction.

    But the child did not scream, did not flinch, did not move to remove the burning mask. They simply stood there, staring, those blazing eyes now framed by the very flames that sought to devour them.

    It was as though the entire world itself was standing still, the air felt heavier, and oppressive, like the very atmosphere had turned against us.

    I remember one of my teammates trying to move, but like everyone else, he too, was just standing still out of fear. Another dropped their weapon, frozen in terror. And me? I could barely think, let alone act. All I could do was watch, powerless, as this being¡ªthe child who should have been overwhelmed by our forces¡ªtransformed into something beyond comprehension.

    The form of the child¡ª it shifted, grew, morphed into something... monstrous. A bird. No, not a bird¡ª a gigantic bird, a bird made out of crimson flames, a creature so massive, so terrifying, it looked like it had come straight from a nightmare.

    It was a monster unlike anything I have ever seen, it surely felt like it was turning into its racial form, but not once in all my years of living have I heard or seen such a terrifying beast. The heat it gave off... it made the battlefield, already hellish, feel like the very pits of the underworld.

    Victor, I was never a person to believe in anyone being born with talents, I always believed that people who are said to have been born with great talents are the best hard workers, I was also one.

    But as I watched the sight, I wondered about what defines talents. Is it the strength? Is it the ability to think? Is it the ability to grow? Then what about monsters, about that monster, how would one define its talents, was it born stronger? Or was it made into a monster?

    Thankfully, our group leader, even though scared, tried to keep us as much alive as possible. He screamed for us to get a grip, grabbed me by my collar, and threw me as far away as possible, two more people followed, we three were the youngest of the group.

    We three, we always talked about bravery and being courageous warriors who never back down from a fight even if it costs our lives. But when faced with death, we all ran away like cowards, with our tail between our legs.

    I learned something there¡ª that death is the ultimate test for a warrior. When faced with it, it defines whether one is a warrior is brave or not. Our seniors were brave, but it did not mean they were fearless, no... I learned that being brave means advancing despite the fear of losing something, important or not¡ª it might be a person, a thing... or it could be your life.

    I never knew what had happened, I just knew our team leader turning into a true fairy with his transparent wings and the glowing halo, his racial form was so majestic. But he never came back for me to complement.

    A team was dispatched to retrieve the remains of the battle, but they never found our team or the elite assassins that were sent to kill that one child. I still remember someone giving me the birthday present that the team leader packed up for me, it was my birthday the next week¡ª it was a catalyst, a rechargeable one. I remember telling him I was saving money to buy that when I refused to drink.

    He had a child, a daughter¡ª I decided to look after her, but fate plays strangely. She suicides out of grief, that child who was barely six.

    The picture was etched onto my mind, it was a birthday that nobody wanted to celebrate after everything, even me. The child hung herself in the bathroom, I don''t know how she tied the rope and all, but she had even written a suicide note, telling she was going to meet papa.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Master Thadd lowered his head as if about to cry, "The leader protected me with his life, yet I couldn''t let his daughter learn more about the world, poor child, she lost her mother at three, and losing the father at six might have caused a lot of disdain in the young mind."

    Contrary to Thadd''s position, he never shed a single drop of tears. Not that he was not sad, but he had lost the ability to cry a long while back. He gave the cigar another puff, throwing away the finished stick after it.

    "She was my niece, and the only one in the younger generation from our family" He continued, not caring whether Victor listened or not, maybe he just needed someone to off his load on1, "Mother lost her mind after everything, and honestly¡ª I felt like I am the most worthless person ever, that I should die... funny actually," He laughed lightly.

    "But I decided to live anyway, if my life was worthless, then I should at least live for my brother''s sake, the team leader gave me his life to live on after all."

    Then he saw that the messenger with the reports on finding Isadora had been here for a long time, he stood up and looked at the girl dead in the eye. "This does not leave this room, if it did¡ª you better say your family gets at least your body for burial."

    "Y-Yes sir." The messenger, flustered, nodded as if she understood everything.

    Thadd started to laugh, "Haa, I am just playing with you, no need to be so timid. The report, if you will"

    "Yes, Master Thadd." The woman bowed before answering, "We cannot find the whereabouts of Subject 01167, it seems obstructed by either distance or a barrier."

    "Call her Isadora, it is better to understand." Thadd sent a thoughtful gaze towards Victor, who was both excited but at the same time scared of what has he gotten himself into.

    The organization that promised him power was too powerful, just one member was that terrifying. Then what about him? What would happen if he were to tell them that he suddenly do not want power? Would he be killed without mercy. Victor, he had been scared of power many times, but for the first time¡ª he was scared of the unknown.

    "Would it be obstructed by another dimension? Master Thadd," Victor tried his best to sound normal, "I mean, if the abductor was the person you mentioned, that means that person could create a dimension related to blood."

    "That was no dimension Victor, the whole place was turned desolate" Thadd explained, "But it is a fair assumption considering we don''t know much about our enemies."

    "Would you be able to defeat that person with how you currently are Master Thadd?" Victor asked, half curious, half scared.

    "I am not sure, but If see that person again, I won''t back down. But I will start with eliminating anyone assisting before starting the fight to remove any liabilities."

    "It is nice to hear you are confident Master." Victor smiled, but he had a hunch that he was missing something. "Why kill the assistant before killing that person, wouldn''t striking that person be effective?"

    "Because back then, the one who killed the assassin''s was not that child, it was another child with the same black mask. But I can tell it is a boy, red hair, golden eyes that seemed to look down on the whole world.

    I was scared of that mysterious boy more than the monster, there was no big reason why, it was just because I knew nothing about that boy... an entity that seemed it could kill with words."

    Gosh that sounded so wrong.

 Chapter 166 - 166: Ok that sound dangerous

    Judge had somehow reverted to his four-year-old self¡ª tiny, adorable, and far too smug for someone with chubby cheeks. At the moment, he was perched on Melissa''s back like an overripe sack of potatoes.

    Why? Because Eleyn, his ever-watchful mother, had delivered her latest decree: "Don''t even think about stepping outside until after Amber''s entrance ceremony!" The event was scheduled for the second of January, which was practically tomorrow in December time, and Eleyn was determined to keep everything on track.

    The ceremony itself wasn''t on the first of January for a very practical reason. You see, the first was an international day of collective hangovers and questionable life choices. After all, most students¡ª Judge''s peers included¡ª would party their tiny hearts out on New Year''s Eve, pass out somewhere around dawn, and wake up looking like undead goblins.

    Yeah, not the best time to hold a formal event. So, the organizers wisely pushed the formalities to the second. It was either that or deal with a crowd of students accidentally napping in their chairs. Or oversleeping, which was a given, and completely missing the ceremony.

    Trailing close behind Melissa and her piggybacked passenger was Seraphis, who, as usual, seemed to be multitasking. On one hand, she kept a hawk-eyed watch on Judge, as though he were a cute little teddy bear she wanted to squish and keep on a shelf forever.

    On the other hand, she was pretending that Judge''s mildly psychopathic tendencies didn''t exist¡ª like, for instance, that time he went on a church rampage or meticulously planned the downfall of his sister''s would have been assassin. Nothing to see here! Just a normal, sweet kid.

    At one point, Seraphis tried to politely wrestle the boy off Melissa''s back. She argued that she should carry him instead. Melissa, of course, refused because her spine hadn''t given up on her yet. But Seraphis was nothing if not persistent. After several rounds of "Are you sure?" and "You look tired," and possibly some guilt-tripping about "Not letting the youngsters handle things and spoiling them," Melissa finally caved.

    Judge, now riding on Seraphis''s shoulders, declared himself the emperor of the world (silently, but with the smuggest grin imaginable). But his surprise was unimaginable when he understood Seraphis liked children... way too much.

    During this royal shoulder tour, Melissa casually mentioned that Judge''s brother, Liam, had come back from a fight with a demon. Apparently, he was mostly okay, barring some injuries in places nobody keeps track of. Instead of worrying like any normal kid, Judge''s ego inflated faster than a poorly-tied balloon.

    He thought to himself: Hah! I fought a demon, too! And guess what, dear brother? I won. Take that! The mental victory dance was both unearned and spectacular.

    Finally, they arrived at Judge''s room¡ª a place that could best be described as "chaotic neutral." It was the kind of space that looked abandoned but somehow meticulously maintained, like an office cleaned only when important guests are expected.

    Everything was in its place, even the furniture and Judge''s artifact box¡ª which was suspicious because Judge and cleanliness were mortal enemies. He forgets to clean his room so much so that Seraphis has to always kindly remind him to keep his room clean, and he surprisingly agrees after a few kind instructions. Such a great child.

    Melissa quickly confirmed the obvious: the state of his room was entirely thanks to his maid.

    "Wow, your maid is incredible," Seraphis said, gently setting Judge down. She then eyed him with exaggerated disapproval. "No wonder you''re a walking disaster when it comes to cleaning up after yourself."

    "Pfft, please, master." Judge sauntered over to his study with all the dramatic flair of someone who had just been insulted. "Do you really think boys care about cleanliness? And while we''re on the topic, let''s talk about you. What about that time you ate like a caveman, oil dripping everywhere? How''s that for your ''cleanliness'' image?"

    Seraphis pinched the bridge of her nose, visibly pained. "I hate explaining things, but you leave me no choice." She sank into the sofa, ready to deliver a lecture. "Alright, Judge. Answer me this: was anyone else there besides us during the incident?"

    "No."

    "Was there any cutlery available?"

    "No."

    "Did we have water nearby?"

    "Yes."

    "Were we in a hurry?"

    "Uh¡­ maybe? I forgot." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Seraphis sighed. "It was a bad situation for neat eating, okay? I wouldn''t have even tried if there wasn''t water nearby. So maybe don''t go around ''judging'' me without thinking things through. Got it?"

    "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Judge waved her off with all the respect of a cat ignoring its owner. He plopped down at his study and began fiddling with the artifacts scattered across the table. "So, about that Nihility Principle I gave you last time¡ª how''s that going?"

    Seraphis leaned back, clearly reluctant to indulge him but doing it anyway. "It''s¡­ complicated. It''s going to take months to understand and add modifications, I do understand a bit, and it seems like the diary had misinformations in it. I still don''t know clearly, but let me tell you this: the principle isn''t just about creating a void where something should be. It could theoretically erase anything."

    Judge perked up, momentarily impressed. "Huh. Sounds dangerous. It is like one of those circus clowns, funny in real life but the number one when it comes to psychotic killing in a novel or a play."

    "I am being serious here Judge, and when I said it could potentially erase anything, I meant anything¡ª doesn''t matter if it is living or non-living, or even if it is not physical and just conceptual."

    "Now that sounds very... very dangerous."

    "That''s because it is dangerous," Seraphis said matter-of-factly. She rose from her seat, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. "Get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, we''re leaving on a cloud strider. You want to see your sister, right?"

    Judge scoffed. "Who needs her?"

    "Don''t lie to yourself," Seraphis quipped, smirking as she walked toward the door. "Oh, and don''t forget to visit your brother, either."

    "Fine," Judge grumbled, turning back to the table. But inside, he was already planning how to rub his demon-slaying victory in Liam''s face.

 Chapter 167 - 167: The restaurant that was too... French?

    "Bienvenue, Monsieur, Mademoiselle.1 Do you have reservations?"

    The waiter spoke with a flourish, his accent so thick and dramatic it felt like he had practiced it in front of a mirror every morning since birth. He was dressed to the nines, his suit so sharp it could cut bread.

    Alex Drakonis stepped down from their gold-and-maroon carriage with the grace of a man who had mastered the art of looking important while secretly wondering if he had gotten the time wrong. He adjusted his coat, gave a quick glance to the Drakonis crest emblazoned on the carriage to remind himself he was indeed fancy, and then turned to his daughter.

    "Yes, reservations, the... uhh¡ª The Secret Garden." Alex''s voice carried a confidence that implied he frequented such establishments, but his slight hesitation made it clear he was just following what the booking assistant had scribbled down for him.

    Amber looked up at her father with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Why the sudden decision to dine somewhere so fancy? Did you win a bet or something?"

    Alex smirked, holding her hand tightly. "Consider this your last supper."

    Amber froze mid-step. "My... what now?"

    "Before you''re thrown into the wilds of dorm life," Alex added with a dramatic sigh, as if the mere mention of dormitories summoned memories of a tragic past. "Dorm food, Amber. It''s a battlefield. You''re about to embark on a war where survival depends on how well you can stomach things that shouldn''t legally be called food."

    Amber blinked at him, confused but now mildly alarmed. "How bad could it really be?"

    Amber was looking forward to her first day in school, she was so set on January second that it felt like like she was going to age just waiting a week before the new year.

    "Bad, as in, you''ll wonder if the cooks are trying to assassinate you. That bad," Alex whispered as the waiter began escorting them to their room.

    Amber, the composed noble daughter, tried to hide her growing apprehension behind a calm exterior. But her voice betrayed her. "Do you think I can survive it, Dad?"

    Alex leaned in conspiratorially. "Some noble kids throw up for the first week. Others cry themselves to sleep. The rest just accept their fate and hope they don''t develop a mysterious rash."

    Amber''s wide eyes darted to his face, searching for any sign of a joke. There was none. "A... rash?! You''re joking, right?"

    Alex simply gave her a serene, fatherly smile. "You''ll be fine. Probably."

    Whatever excitement she was having from going to school was all stripped down as if was heading to Jail on the second day of the new year. And she knew nothing about jails, she somehow wished she had read more books like Judge to gain knowledge.

    By the time they reached The Secret Garden, Amber''s mind was spinning with horrifying images of unidentifiable gruel and weeping aristocrats. The door to the room snapped her out of her panic. Decorated with vines, flowers, and so much greenery it looked like someone had dragged a greenhouse indoors, it was breathtaking.

    Amber''s eyes lit up. "Wow, it''s beautiful!"

    "Par ici, invit¨¦s distingu¨¦s.1" The waiter opened the door with a theatrical bow, revealing a room that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a fairytale.

    "Merci monsieur"1 Alex returned the bow with a very slight one. Receiving a smile from the waiter.

    The meal began with a basket of freshly baked bread served alongside a tiny saucer of butter shaped like a rose. Amber, while cautiously nibbling on the bread, couldn''t help but glance suspiciously at every dish the waiters brought.

    "Eat up, Amber," Alex said cheerfully, carving into his steak. "You''ll miss this kind of food soon enough."

    Amber pushed a piece of asparagus around her plate. "Are you sure the dorm food is that bad? Maybe you''re exaggerating."

    Alex put down his fork, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Amber, let me tell you about the time I was at the Royal Academy. The first night, they served something called ''meat stew.'' It was neither meat nor stew. To this day, I''m convinced it was some kind of alchemy experiment gone horribly wrong."

    Amber giggled despite herself. "What did you do?"

    "I did what any young noble would do. I bribed the kitchen staff to sneak me bread rolls. Cost me my allowance, but I didn''t starve."

    Amber shook her head, laughing. "You''re terrible."

    "Hey, I can at least give you more allowance, although you cannot use money inside school, you can very well use it if you know how to."

    "Is it not allowed or something? Or is it just there is nothing to buy?"

    "Both, but you need money if you decide to adventure out. The school doesn''t ban that" Alex ate another piece of asparagus.

    The waiter arrived with the next course: a beautifully plated dish of roasted duck with a raspberry glaze. Amber hesitated before taking a bite, and when she did, her eyes widened. "This is amazing!"

    "Enjoy it while you can," Alex said, sipping his wine. "Next week, you''ll be eating something they call ''mystery casserole.'' And massive spoiler: the mystery is what it used to be before it got cooked."

    Amber groaned, laughing. "Okay, okay, I get it. Dorm food is bad. Stop scaring me!"

    Alex leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Fine, I''ll stop. But let me give you some advice."

    Amber raised an eyebrow. "Here we go." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Life at the academy will throw all kinds of challenges at you. Politics, rivalries, professors who think they''re gods... but you know what''ll keep you grounded?"

    Amber leaned in, expecting something profound.

    Alex grinned. "Snacks. Always keep snacks hidden. A bag of candied nuts can solve more problems than you''d think."

    Amber burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. "You''re impossible!"

    Alex laughed "Always remember, no matter how your day goes, you''ve got a home full of love waiting for you. I''m here to listen, to cheer you on, and sometimes¡­ to share a snack when things feel tough."

    A smile crept up on Amber''s lips, "Thanks, dad."

    By the time the next dish arrived¡ªa soup with water clear enough to reflect her face¡ªBut Amber was too relaxed and giggling to notice.

    Alex looked at her fondly. "You''ll do great, Amber. Just remember, no matter how bad the dorm food gets, you''re a Drakonis. We survive anything."

    Amber smiled, feeling a little braver about the journey ahead. "Thanks, again, Dad. Even if you''re a bit... dramatic."

    Alex chuckled. "Comes with the territory. Now, pass the truffle. I need to eat enough to make up for the meals I''ll miss when I come visit you at school."

    But before he could dig into his truffle soup, his face turned serious for a brief moment, Clarus is being attacked now? But it is still evening, did they make a mistake? Or is that person intervening?

    "What are you thinking about dad?" Amber had yet to notice the soup.

    Alex''s face returned to normal. "Nothing Amber, just enjoy the dish."

    Welcome, Sir, Miss.

    This way, distinguished guests.

    Thank you Gentleman

 Chapter 168 - 168: Who put out the lights?

    The sun of eternal light flickered once, twice, thrice... the light all faded, and the evening sun shone its orange hue on the city of light.

    The Vampires, although confused as to why their plans were pushed forward, did not hesitate to throw off their pilgrim attire and launch a full-scale attack on the Avians as soon as the lights dimmed. They surged forward, a tide of dark figures whose movements were both graceful and deadly. Their eyes glowed like embers in the fading light, and their fangs gleamed as they let out war cries that split the air.

    Flora just stared at the woman''s head rolling in front of her. "Sis...ter..." the woman weakly rasped as her eyes went blank. It was pure chaos around her, but she could not hear any of it. Her only focus was the head that lay there lifeless, caught in the brutal surprise attack.

    She did not know the woman''s name, but she had seen her and her family. The sister she referred to must have been the newborn girl in their household. Flora felt as though she were living in a dream, as if this would all end if she just woke up. Somehow, in the midst of this horror, she felt... safe, as if she were not part of this chaos.

    But the illusion shattered. Flora quickly collected herself as the noise and the voice of her father shouting slowly returned to her. The clash of metal, the screech of talons against claws, and the cries of pain filled the air like a macabre symphony.

    "Flora! Get out of your trance!" Solis roared as he cleaved through a Vampire with his radiant spear, Lux Divina, which erupted in a dazzling burst of light. "They won''t stop! Defend yourself or die!"

    Flora''s grip tightened around her glaive, a weapon she had trained with but never truly used in battle.

    "O'' spirits of the light," She raised the glaive and whispered a prayer, her voice was trembling but resolute, "guide my hand to justice. Illuminate the path of my blade, steady my heart, and shield me in your eternal radiance."

    As she spoke, the weapon''s blade shimmered with an iridescent glow, and the glyphs etched into her weapon flared to life, casting a shimmering glow across her body. Her wings unfurled, reflecting the light like mirrors, and for the first time, Flora felt a sliver of clarity. This was no dream. This was war.

    Solis nodded in his head as he watched his daughter get ready to fight and looked to the east where a group of Vampires where fighting a group of Avians.

    He coldly stared at them, his anger was boiling, but he had to keep his calm. He flew up high with just one flutter of his wings, cracks formed on the ground as he took off. Looking at the fight, he slowly lifted his spear and aimed at the group like a wand.

    "Light''s grace!" He said in a low, deep voice.

    The evening sky opened up as bright light shined from above. A shaft of pure, blinding light pierced through the clouds, engulfing the city''s eastern quadrant in radiant brilliance., causing the Avians there to glance at their leader. "Go forth proud Avians," Solis called, his voice carrying across the city. "Show them no mercy as they are the god''s enemies."

    The Avians, everyone who heard the leader regardless of whether them being under the light or not, screamed as they fought harder, the ones under the light had already finished their business.

    Flora scanned the battlefield, her heart pounding as she searched for her sister. Not out of fear¡ªCeleste was more than capable¡ªbut out of a need to feel some semblance of normalcy in the chaos. She had always been with her sister all the time except when Celeste or she had other businesses to tend to.

    Her attention was torn away as a figure darted toward her, a Vampire woman wielding twin crimson blades that dripped with fresh blood. The Vampire moved like a polished predator, vaulting over buildings and using the city''s architecture to her advantage. As she leaped from the final rooftop, she spun midair, her leg outstretched in a deadly kick aimed at Flora.

    Flora barely avoided the blow, twisting her body at the last second¡ª she avoided it even though she saw it late, but the heavy wind from the Vampire''s strike slammed her into a nearby window, the glass shattering around her. Pain shot through her back, but she forced herself to her feet, gripping her glaive tightly.

    Luckily, Solis was still near her. Before the Vampire could close in, he intervened. In a blur of light, he appeared between them, his spear slicing through the air with trained accuracy. The Vampire''s body split diagonally, burning light trailing in the trace of Solis''s strike. He turned to Flora, his expression becoming stern.

    "Focus Flora, this is a battlefield. Whether you like violence or not, you have to fight in order to survive."

    "But I don''t want to be a killer." She complained, not knowing what to do, "Remember when I said I want to be a light envoy? I am a saint, what kind of saint would bloody her hands with murder?"

    Solis brushed her cheek, "Flora, in war, there are no saints. You can either die clinging to ideals or live to shape the world with them. It''s up to you to decide what kind of monster you''ll become¡ª a merciless one, a vengeful one, one who fights for something greater¡ª there are many. It is this senseless killing who create these monsters, and these monsters again create other monsters¡ª the entire history is a cycle of monsters creating monsters Flora."

    Flora looked at her father helplessly, "I am afraid to kill father."

    "Flora, it is not saints that create saints, but monsters who create saints. If you want to see true light, you must first walk through true darkness¡ª else even the candlelight might feel like it is enough."

    Solis looked at his hesitant daughter, "I will guide you. To punish those enemies of god."

    Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 169 - 169: What? You read? Who are you?

    "Haa! Liam, you look like you''ve been beaten to death by a demon." Judge burst into his big brother''s room like a chaotic hurricane of unwelcome energy, his grin as wide as a blimp.

    "What?" Liam replied in a tone so flat it could iron laundry, his glare screaming, Get out. He was hunched over his desk, surrounded by an imposing fortress of¡ª wait for it¡ª actual books. A rare sight indeed.

    "You''re¡­ reading? Like... real books? And they have no pictures in them? " Judge gasped dramatically, clutching his heart like he''d been personally betrayed by reality. His eyes darted around. "What kind of books? Principles?" He snatched one off the desk before Liam could stop him and gawked at it like it was a magical relic. "Principles? Oh no, it''s worse than I thought."

    "What are you doing in here?" Liam growled, his focus finally dragging away from his fortress of knowledge. "Yes, I was beaten by a demon, if you need confirmation. And yes, I''m currently trying to grow stronger. Now get out."

    Judge blinked, his grin widening. "Wow, that must have really knocked some sense into you, huh? Principles, Liam. Principles! Next thing I know, you''ll be lecturing me about posture."

    "Judge," Liam sighed, his patience thinning to translucent levels, "I have things to do before we leave. Serious things. Get out."

    "But wait!" Judge held up a hand, his expression turning smug. "I wanted to tell you about how I¡ª me¡ª defeated a demon. You know, one of those nasty things that put you in a sorry state." He puffed out his chest like a peacock on steroids.

    Liam froze mid-eye-roll, then slowly turned his head. His skepticism was so thick you could spread it on toast. "¡­I didn''t know you were trying stand-up comedy, Judge."

    "I''m serious!" Judge insisted, looking affronted. "It was a demon, a big nasty one! And I defeated it all by myself."

    "Oh, I see," Liam deadpanned, waving to summon the butler with an air of royal exasperation. "Your joke does need work, though. Even for a beginner, that''s abysmal."

    "I''m not joking!"

    "..."

    "..."

    The silence was so loud it could have had its own silent opera.

    Liam raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Right. And next, you''ll tell me Mother knits in her free time. I''m not buying it."

    "There were witnesses!" Judge insisted, leaning dramatically over the desk. "Mother''s old friend was there when it happened. She''s literally in the house right now. Go ask her!"

    Liam sighed, motioning toward the tea table. "Fine. Tell me about it. Entertain me with this elaborate fantasy of yours."

    "It is not a fantasy just so you know, it actually happened." Judge plopped down into a chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

    "Yeah, I will be the judge of that. Y''know judge as in judge and not Judge."

    "You need to really work on your jokes Liam, that was so bad I had a stroke" Judge quipped.

    Liam, ignoring Judge, Called the butler and muttered something to the guy, who exited the room and appeared moments later bearing a tray with tea and two generous slices of sippleberry cake.

    Judge eyed the cake with exaggerated suspicion. "What''s this? A bribe to soften me up?"

    "Consider it payment," Liam replied smoothly, pouring tea with the precision of someone who was absolutely going to regret this conversation. "Now, spill. How did you defeat a demon, oh mighty warrior?"

    Judge grinned like he''d won the lottery. "Oh, it''s a tale for the ages¡­"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    While the brothers were joking around with Judge''s story and Alex was having a pleasant meal with his daughter, Flora was having a fight to death with a Vampire who seemed to be in a state of nervousness, as if he was forced and had no choice but to fight. Like a hunting dog bound by its chain.

    But the guy''s skills were real, using everything present on the battlefield to his advantage, he kicked up a table that lay outside and then kicked it towards Flora, who cut the table in half as it was about to hit.

    "You fight well," she said as she cut the table, "What is your name, Vampire?"

    "A filthy Avian does not need to hear it." His voice was something beyond anger, despise? Frustration? or was it anger due to helplessness? She could not quiet put her mind in it.

    There was a goblet that floated as the table was flipped, the guy caught it mid-air, pulled back his arm, twisted his whole body on his leg, and threw it toward Flora. But the goblet shattered just as it touched her, which was her doing but it blinded her just for a moment.

    The Vampire jumped on a ledge and leaped towards her, punching her with all the force from the leap. Flora barely had time to react, the punch connected to her chest¡ª a slight sound of bone fracture was heard before she was launched backward, crashing into a wall with a loud thud.

    But however empathetic Flora was, she was never someone to break down with a fracture. She got up from the rubble slowly, she groaned as she stabbed the glaive''s shaft in the ground and used it as a support to get herself up.

    "You''re skilled I can give you that," Flora said calmly as she spat the blood in her mouth and wiped her lips. "But that is not enough to put me down."

    "Relentless, just die already."

    "Why do you use no blades?" She asked as she steadied herself.

    But he did not reply, Flora barely had time to process the Vampire''s next movement. The air felt thick with tension, his eyes darting across the battlefield like a cornered animal, calculating every move. His form shifted slightly as he crouched, the muscles in his legs coiling like a spring before he darted forward with inhuman speed.

    Flora immediately flapped her wings, propelling herself into the air just as his fist slammed into the spot where she had stood. The force of his strike cracked the ground, sending shards of stone flying in all directions. She hovered above him, her breathing steadying as the glow of healing light coursed through her chest, mending the fracture he had inflicted.

    The healing was not much, it did not completely heal her, only slightly¡ª But it was enough for her to fight without worrying about her broken bones and ignore the pain.

    The Vampire didn''t let up. He leapt to a nearby lamppost, gripping it with clawed hands, and used it as a pivot to launch himself at her midair. His movements were fluid and vicious, almost animalistic. Flora twirled her glaive defensively in an arc, its blade slicing through the air with a soft whoosh.

    The Vampire''s claws scraped against the glaive''s shaft, sparks flying as he pushed off it to create space. He landed gracefully on the ground, his feet barely making a sound. Without pause, he hurled a broken piece of stone at her with deadly accuracy. Flora deflected it with a flick of her glaive, the sharp clang echoing through the battlefield.

    Flora could see his frustration mounting as he adjusted his stance, his gaze locking onto her with an intensity that was almost painful to endure. The Vampire''s movements became inconsistent yet precise, as though he was being driven by something other than instinct¡ªsomething darker, something desperate... something wild.

    He dashed forward again, this time feinting a strike. Flora braced herself, but it was a trick; he pivoted at the last moment, kicking a broken piece of rubble at her with bone-crushing force. She twisted her body just in time, the rubble skimming her thin, but durable cloth and grazing her arm. The sharp sting of pain was a reminder of how skilled her opponent was.

    The vampire came from behind, taking advantage of the moment she was occupied by the rubble. She had just enough time to bring her glaive to block the kick. But she was sent back, again. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    But this time, she had enough time to react as she had already unfurled her wings, before colliding, she flapped them to gain altitude. The vampire, seeing she was trying to fly up, tried to catch her before she did. But she just avoided his grab.

    The vampire landed on the ground while Flora floated in the air, her flapping was silent.

    Looking at the vampire who was scanning the whole terrain, and making sure there were no allies, she started to chant under her breath.

    O'' Heavens that reward the virtuous,

    O'' Heavens that loathe the sinners

    Rain your weapons of the divine,

    Punish the sinners who do not belong.

    She raised her glaive high, and the sky split as countless round portals appeared, radiating light from inside. Spears made of pure light appeared from within the portals.

    "Wrath of the light, Descent!" She shouted.

    The vampire tried to move, but he had been trapped the moment she began to chant. "Fight me fairly, despicable Avian." He shouted.

 Chapter 170 - 170: Divine wrath!... Yeah, no thanks

    "Wrath of the Light"

    Flora pointed her glaive to the sky with the kind of flair that would make a theater performer proud. The air around her crackled with radiant energy as countless bright portals appeared, shimmering like stars come too close to Earth.

    From each portal, a golden spear emerged, glowing with the intensity of miniature suns. The evening sky, bathed moments ago in a warm orange hue, was now glaringly bright¡ªdaylight had been rudely dragged back onto the scene.

    It was a sight to behold, though not everyone appreciated it. The Avians seemed thrilled, their feathers practically preening under the light, but the vampires? Not so much. Unlike her father''s legendary light, which could turn a vampire into a well-dressed pile of ash, Flora''s light merely irritated them. Think of it as an overpowered flashlight rather than a death ray.

    "Descent!" Flora roared, swinging her glaive with such force that the nearby rooftops shook. The golden spears shot down like divine ballistic missiles, each one promising fiery judgment.

    The vampire, a wiry figure with a face that looked like it hadn''t seen moisturizer in centuries, strained against the invisible force keeping him rooted in place. "Fight me fairly, despicable Avian!" he barked, his voice as raspy as sandpaper on a bad day.

    Flora didn''t even flinch. Her face tightened, her grip on the glaive ironclad. Fair? she thought. You jumped me in the middle of my village, broke my rib, and probably ruined dinner plans. Fairness took a hike about five moves ago.

    The spears descended with a deafening roar, but the vampire didn''t panic. Instead, a black mist began to swirl around him, coiling like smoke escaping a fire. Two faint eyes appeared behind him in the mist, cold and unblinking. The shadowy figure solidified into a hooded specter, complete with a scythe that screamed "Grim Reaper, but make it edgy."

    The eerie figure leaned over the vampire, who seemed to gain strength just from its presence. Muscles twitched and flexed, regaining control, and the vampire moved with a speed that would make a cheetah blush. He darted aside just as the spears collided with the ground, detonating in a spectacular display of light and debris.

    "You wish to know my name, Avian?" His voice had changed¡ªdeeper, echoing with an ominous undertone. "I am Antiochus¡­ and you will remember it in your final moments."

    Antio dodged another spear with an effortless leap, landing on a wall and pushing off like gravity was a mere suggestion. Another spear exploded behind him, sending a shockwave through the village square.

    "I thought this was your village," he said, his tone was unnervingly calm. The echoes of his voice, however, sounded downright furious, repeating his words like a malfunctioning megaphone. Flora blinked mid-battle. Why are the echoes angry? she wondered briefly, before shaking her head. No time for existential sound design questions.

    Antio moved like a dancer on a caffeine high, his reflexes borderline supernatural. Every spear that came near was dodged with precision that made Flora''s attacks look like a slow-motion training exercise. His speed, strength, and uncanny ability to react almost before she acted made him seem less like a fighter and more like an all-in-one nightmare factory.

    Enhanced strength, Incredible ability to observe and react, tough body, and either foresight or slowing down time. She gritted her teeth. Great. I''m up against a multipurpose Army knife with no actual knife. Heck, he doesn''t even have a weapon. This is fine.1

    He leaped from rooftops to ledges to windows, each movement fluid and purposeful, closing the distance with terrifying speed. Flora braced herself, waiting for the right moment. As he lunged, she dodged to the side, her wings unfurling to send her backward in a graceful arc.

    Antio wasn''t out of tricks. A thick black mist swirled around his legs, forming a makeshift platform beneath him. He stepped into the air like a protagonist from a cultivation novel, each step solid as stone. Flora barely had time to blink before a thin blade of mist materialized in his hand.

    The weapon was extremely thin, nearly invisible, but devastatingly sharp. He struck, and Flora raised her glaive just in time to block, though the impact sent a jolt through her arms. A thin line of blood appeared on her shoulder where the blade had grazed her.

    The force of the blow sent her spiraling back. She flapped her wings desperately, cushioning her fall just enough to avoid broken bones, but the landing still knocked the wind out of her.

    Antiochus hovered above, his silhouette framed by the setting sun. The horizon was painted in fiery reds and golds, but the light felt mocking now. Not nighttime yet, and I''m already getting clobbered, Flora thought, pushing herself up.

    She glanced at her arm and frowned. The wound wasn''t healing. The usual warmth of light-imbued ether was absent, repelled by some ominous force.

    Antiochus smirked, his eerie echo following suit. "Having trouble, Avian?"

    Flora gripped her glaive tighter, narrowing her eyes. "Not as much trouble as you''re about to have."

    Antio lunged forward, propelling from the black mist like spring. Flora darted to the left as he slashed again, his mist blade carving through the air with a sharp hiss.

    The ground where she had been standing split open, a gash torn into the cobblestone as though it were paper. She retaliated immediately, thrusting her glaive upward in a wide arc, its golden light streaking toward him like a comet.

    Antiochus tilted his head, dodging with humiliating ease, and countered with a spinning kick that Flora barely managed to block with the shaft of her glaive. The impact reverberated up her arms, and she was forced backward... again, her boots skidding across the uneven ground. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Flora''s hand grew weak as she lost more blood from the wound. She had been trained multiple times, but she had rarely been wounded, and all her wounds were always healed almost immediately.

    She remembered her father giving her a pill to use in times of not being able to heal and being on the losing end.

    She injected some ether into her glaive and the iridescent glow of the blade started to grow, covering the whole blade in a moment''s time. She slashed the blade swiftly with all the strength her arm could muster.

    Antio, without doubt, dodged the blade. But Flora''s aim had already been fulfilled, she was aiming for a small moment, with enough time for her to swallow the yellow pill.

    The pill was supposed to provide her with the true power of the sun that is present within their bloodline. Something that would give her enough power to fight even in the dark.

    After she swallowed the pill whole, she did not feel the rush of power or anything dramatic like that, but she never doubted her father, and never will. She flew up, tore off a peace of clothe from her dress, and tied her cut to mask the healing she was about to do.

    Just as on queue, a massive dark dome appeared near the edge of the city, but Flora had not time to pay attention to it. Antiochus was still there...not?

    As soon as he saw the dome he smiled, "Sorry, gotta dip." he looked at her and dispersed into black mist. Flora just stayed there motionless, she just used a priced treasure and her enemy just escaped.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Amber stared into her bowl of "Golden Truffle Essence with a Hint of Moonlight," wondering why it was so clear that she could see her reflection, but so expensive it could have paid for her entire first semester."What''s wrong?" Alex asked, already halfway through his bowl. "It''s soup. You like soup."

    Amber cautiously took a sip. "It''s... fine. But why does it taste like water that got a motivational speech from a mushroom?"

    Alex laughed so loudly that several diners turned their heads. "You''ve got your mother''s sharp tongue. That''s going to be dangerous at the academy."

    Amber grinned, relaxing a little. "If I survive the dorm food, right?"

    "Exactly."

    The waiter returned with a cart laden with cheese wheels that he described with such passion that Amber felt like she was attending a theatrical performance.

    "This one," the waiter intoned gravely, pointing to a wedge of something green, "is aged in a cave blessed by the Goddess of Flavors herself."

    Amber bit her lip to keep from laughing. Alex, however, played along. "Ah, yes, the divine cheese. A must-have."

    When the waiter was gone, Amber leaned across the table. "Do you think he''s serious?"

    "Absolutely not," Alex said, cutting a piece of the green cheese and popping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, then grimaced. "Tastes like divine punishment, though."

    Amber snorted so loudly she nearly knocked over her glass of water. "Stop making me laugh!"

    By the time dessert arrived, Amber was in high spirits. The waiter placed a golden dome on the table and lifted it with a flourish, revealing a tower of spun sugar so intricate it looked like it might crumble under its own beauty. The dish was called "The Ether''s Caress."

    "Well," Amber said, staring at the dessert, "if I didn''t know better, I''d think they were trying to impress us."

    Alex grinned. "Take a picture with your memory, Amber. This is the kind of story you''ll want to tell your classmates when they''re eating mystery casserole."

    I wanted to say Swiss army knife, but... context.

 Chapter 171 - 171: The grim reaper who deleted system32

    Celeste, like Flora, did not have it easy. But she could hold on due to the difference in skill.

    Flora was still a beginner in combat, but Celeste was one of the Luminarii¡ª the strongest soldiers of the Avians. And backed by her gifted bloodline, there may be a single handful of Avians who are stronger than her. Her father was one. And anyone else, if any, was not there in Clarus.

    She also uses a glaive like Flora, but their weapons had their own differences. There were no runes on Celeste''s blade, nor did it glow with iridescent light. But it was shaped like a raging flame with the blade on one side and the flames on the other.

    There was a gemstone with a scarlet hue on the guard collar¡ª a catalyst. Flora was not yet trained enough to get one. Since a reusable catalyst was extremely rare and hard to craft and keep stable¡ª only the trained Luminariis and the regent himself carries it around.

    The gemstone glowed and a red aura burned like flames on the blade. Celeste was flying, and so was her enemy. She (the vampire), had wings made of black mist and a figure that looked like a grim reaper behind her, though it never attacked.

    The vampire had introduced herself as Esthia, and another vampire who seemed to be superior in power was fighting Solis, her father, just a little away from her.

    The orange hue of the evening sky was not favorable towards either the Avians or the Vampires. There was no ample light for the Avians, nor was there enough darkness for the Vampires¡ª the fight was as fair as it could get.

    Celeste spun her glaive, the scarlet flames licking the air in curls as she faced Esthia. The vampire hovered, her black mist wings throbbing with an eerie vibe that one always got from crazy horror movies. The grim reaper figure behind Esthia loomed ominously, but its inactivity was giving enough anxiety for Celeste to meet a therapist right after the fight..

    "Nice blade," Esthia quipped, her voice smooth as cotton dipped in poison. "But flames can''t burn the dead."

    Celeste''s lips curved into a smirk. "Good thing I''m not aiming to burn¡ªjust to carve a path through you. And for your information, these are not flames¡ª nothing much, but... don''t misunderstand."

    Without warning, Esthia darted forward, probably because Celeste said too much, her speed was like a shadow streaking under the flicker of a candle. Celeste barely had time to block as Esthia''s clawed hands scraped against the glaive''s guard. The clang of metal against metal nails that definitely broke the nail trimmer reverberated like a church bell struck too hard.

    Celeste pushed her glaive forward, forcing Esthia back. Flames erupted in a controlled arc, forcing the vampire to retreat midair with an agile flip.

    "Not bad," Esthia admitted. "But you''re slower than a snail in a marathon."

    "What the heck does that mean?" Celeste demanded, but then remembered her enemy said whatever she wanted and not actual facts.

    She sighed, launching herself forward with a downward slash. Esthia twisted, her form became a blur of dark mist, dodging the blow. Celeste adjusted, swinging the glaive horizontally. This time, flames erupted along its edge like a wildfire breaking through dry wood.

    Esthia blocked the strike with her misty wings, yeah they were not just mists (who knew), but the fiery aura cut through and scorched the edges. She screamed like a child getting wounded for the first time, and it was not even her body, her ghostly wings reforming almost instantly.

    "Oh, they do burn huh?" Celeste quipped.

    The grim reaper figure behind Esthia twitched but remained inert. Celeste noticed and made a mental note to stay alert.

    "You''re holding back," Celeste said, her voice steady despite the strain of the battle. "What''s the matter? Afraid of a fair fight?"

    Esthia grinned, her fangs gleaming. "Fair fights are for fools and heroes. Guess which one I''m not?"

    "The heroes... Duh! It is just that obvious."

    She raised her hand, and the mist around her condensed into a scythe. It wasn''t a real weapon but felt no less deadly as she swung it with practiced precision. Celeste parried the first strike, the clash sending sparks flying. The second strike came faster, the blade of mist scraping dangerously close to her shoulder.

    "You fight like a drunk chicken," Celeste taunted, twisting midair to dodge the next swing. "Flailing all over and hoping something hits."

    Esthia snarled, her attacks becoming more erratic but no less lethal. Celeste spun her glaive, using the momentum to deflect the misty blade and counter with a fiery thrust. Flames danced as the glaive''s point grazed Esthia''s arm, eliciting a sharp hiss.

    "Enough games," Esthia growled, her wings expanding as she dove straight at Celeste, the scythe aimed for her throat.

    Celeste shifted, narrowly avoiding the strike. She twisted her glaive in a wide arc, the flames roaring louder. This time, the fiery edge caught Esthia''s scythe, disintegrating part of the misty weapon. Celeste pressed her advantage, striking again and again, each blow forcing the vampire back.

    "You''re persistent," Esthia admitted, dodging another slash. "But persistence won''t save you."

    She snapped her fingers, and the grim reaper figure finally moved. It lunged forward, its massive, shadowy arms reaching for Celeste. She barrel-rolled in the air, the massive claws missing her by inches.

    "Didn''t your pet get the memo?" Celeste called out, twirling her glaive. "The fight''s between us."

    Esthia smirked. "Then try not to lose your head."

    The shadow lunged again, but this time Celeste was ready. She swung her glaive in a wide arc, the fiery aura expanding into a crescent-shaped wave. The attack tore through the shadow''s torso, splitting it in two. The grim reaper dissipated momentarily before reforming behind Esthia. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Cheap tricks won''t work on me," Celeste said, adjusting her grip. Her wings flared, and she shot upward, gaining distance. With a burst of energy, she dived down, glaive poised for a decisive strike.

    Esthia raised her scythe to block, but Celeste twisted at the last second, spinning to land a flaming kick to Esthia''s side. The vampire reeled, her misty wings faltering. Celeste followed up with a rapid series of strikes, each one driving Esthia closer to the ground.

    Finally, Celeste slammed the butt of her glaive into Esthia''s chest, sending her crashing into the rocky terrain below. The impact created a small crater, dust and debris swirling around the fallen vampire.

    Hovering above, Celeste leveled her glaive at Esthia, the flames still roaring. "Stay down, or I''ll turn you into ashes."

    Esthia coughed blood as she got up. But contrary to her state, a sly grin formed on her lips as she wiped them. "Bold of you to assume I''ll give up that easily."

    She retaliated, her eyes were now completely dark. Her scythe cleaved through the air and met Celeste''s glaive. The scythe got parried and countered with a barrage of stabs and slashes. Scarlet flame ate away at the scythe as it met the glaive''s blade every time. But it grew back quickly.

    Celeste''s glaive slashed through the air, the blade trailing scarlet embers as it clashed against Esthia''s dark scythe. Sparks erupted like fireflies in the night every time both clashed, the embers swallowed up the mist like lighting up a dark room with their light.

    Esthia''s right wing grew as the grim reaper behind her became the right wing. It held out its arm and a dark scythe with a large blade materialized from the mist, the shadowy hooded figure slashed the new scythe at Celeste.

    She tried to block it, and did just in time¡ª parrying the scythe and rotating herself to counterattack, at least that was her plan. But as was about to parry after letting the blade touch and her blade burned the other scythe from Esthia¡ª the grim reaper''s scythe handle disappeared.

    It was dispersed, the blade¡ª however, did not. It slashed through her chest and upper abdomen. The cut was deep and the pain that erupted was nothing to gawk at. She spat a mouthful of blood, which was burned before it fell.

    Black mist appeared on the cut and started to devour her flesh through the wound, and she quickly made a retreat and screamed her lungs out due to the sheer pain. She could somehow feel her every cell that was being devoured.

    "Not so mighty are you now?" Esthia asked, but her voice had echoes that repeated what she said but in a shrieking voice. "Stay down, or I''ll turn you into nothing but mist."

    Celeste had her head down while screaming, she placed her hand on her wound. Her screams and painful cries stopped as her wound started to burn. She looked at her opponent. "Bold of you to assume I could be defeated with just this." Her bronze eyes gleamed as if the sun started to shine again. Although it was evening.

    "Let''s see how much more you can take," Esthia spoke, her voice neither arrogant nor mocking. Just an echo of countless voices that aced their exams in the "How to shriek while you speak" course.

 Chapter 172 - 172: The flamboyant spear, err... Glaive

    Celeste feinted a high swing, forcing Esthia to raise her scythe, then pivoted on her heel, delivering a passionate kick to Esthia''s knee.

    "You''re predictable," Celeste muttered, profiting on the vampire''s stagger by thrusting her glaive toward her unprotected side.

    But Esthia anticipated it, letting her body dissolve into mist as the glaive passed through. "Am I?" her echoing voice was as annoying as it could get. Which was highly annoying if you didn''t know.

    A glaive was a weapon that not many people from the race used since spears, they all thought, were better. But to some, glaive offered a more versatile use at the cost of having to train more. Celeste was on of the people who trained their whole body to the breaking point every day.

    The flame on her blade began to burn brightly, and her wound had stopped bleeding, although not healed.

    The air around her shimmered with heat, distorting Esthia''s figure. When the scythe came for her again, Celeste swirled her glaive, pulling the flames into a spiral that deflected the strike like a burning storm.

    Esthia''s echoes hissed, retreating, but her grim reaper loomed closer, extending its skeletal hand. It made a shadow on the ground and from it, spectral chains erupted, lashing out to ensnare Celeste''s legs.

    "You''ll have to do better," Celeste mocked, slamming her glaive into the ground. A pulse of light erupted, shattering the chains into fading embers.

    Celeste darted to the side, avoiding the arc of Esthia''s scythe, which cleaved through a white wall, but now charred and soiled due to the ongoing fight.

    The wall shattered, its shards hurled in every direction. Thinking fast, Celeste caught a fragment mid-air and hurled it back at Esthia, her glaive''s flames igniting the projectile.

    The vampire swatted it aside as if she had anticipated it, burning some of her mist in the process, only for Celeste to use the distraction to close the distance, driving her glaive upward in a blazing arc.

    "You can''t win, Celeste," Esthia whispered, "Not against the mist you can''t. Those are made to include my predecessors'' skills." The grim reaper attacked her next, which she easily avoided while parrying Esthia. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Her heart pounded after hearing where the grim repeat got skills from, but she forced a smirk. "Then you know what''s coming next."

    Before Esthia could respond, Celeste threw her glaive into the air, its flames erupting like a flash bomb. The sudden burst of light blinded the vampire, buying Celeste the split second she needed to close the gap and drive her knee into Esthia''s gut.

    She retreated back and caught her glaived and held it sideways. She bent forward slightly and rushed at an unimaginable speed¡ª something that even the grim reaper behind Esthia could not see.

    The blade cut cleanly through Esthia''s neck, and her lifeless body fell to the ground. But there was no blood anyhow, black mist started to seep out of her body, and the grim reaper seeped into Esthia, like it was becoming a part of her.

    Celeste spat out another handful of blood, but they did not burn and hit the ground. "It takes such a toll on my body," She complained to herself.

    Her body was swallowed by mist and it started to thicken around her, obscuring her figure. Celeste''s grip on her glaive tightened, her sharp eyes scanning the swirling fog.

    As the mist thickened, Celeste gritted her teeth. She couldn''t see, but she could feel the oppressive air of Esthia''s presence growing.

    Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in her side as a black blade pierced her ribs. She did not see it coming. But instead of retreating, Celeste grabbed the blade with her hand, letting her fire consume it.

    She flew up and held her glaive toward the mist sphere. The catalyst on her weapon started to glow as her cold bronze eyes focused on the entirety of the place her attack was going to be. "Fly up Avians, grab the pilgrims!" She shouted at the fighting Avian and pilgrims and turned her attention back on the sphere.

    Celeste opened her mouth and voiced her attack slowly.

    "Lacus ex Inferno"

    She closed her eyes slightly before opening them again, the bronze iris started to glow brightly in a golden color.

    The ground beneath Celest began to boil, and all the Avians fighting flew up. Except for a couple who were caught by the Vampires they were fighting against¡ª but one managed to throw the vampire onto the ground, while the other was thrown to the ground first.

    Everyone on the ground started to scream as the ground gave way to lava. Even a handful of pilgrims who were fighting the vampires got caught up in the chaos. But some Avians managed to rescue them, regretfully leaving three on the ground.

    All the people left on the ground began to burn as they all squirmed and fought each other to escape. Some stepped on others, their comrades, while some grabbed others with them while trying to escape.

    It was an ugly sight, the kind of sight you see in the depths of hell. The boiling river ate up bodies while they tried to escape using anyone present. This was a true Lacus ex Inferno, in other words¡ª a lake from hell. But its power diminished due to the lack of sunlight.

    The screaming quieted down in a few moments'' time, but the mist¡ª her actual target¡ª was not affected. The mist got thickened, but like an experienced fighter, she did not wait for whatever was coming.

    She held the glaive sideways and the blade grew in size. Holding the shaft with both hands, she rushed forward with a flap of her wings, aiming to cut the mist in half.

    It was quick, precise, and practically was nothing to write describe about. A single slash cut the mist in half, and the body inside dispersed into black mist and vanished.

    Now you might be thinking, did it end just like that? Of course not.

    The next thing Celeste knew after wondering why it ended just like that, the sky started to get opened like a zip lock. They parted like window curtains, and the darkness beneath it began to grow.

    Light went out like someone blew out the candles and darkness encapsulated the whole place.

 Chapter 173 - 173: The REAL dark dome

    Solis was not having a good time, no sir. His day, which was supposed to be uneventful, had spiraled into chaos faster than he could blink. He was too busy mentally screaming while keeping a worried eye on Flora, his youngest daughter. She was out there, sword in hand, trying to fight like a hero but also, you know, not die. It was a tough balancing act, to say the least, and Solis could feel his nerves fraying with each passing moment.

    And let''s be real, an all-out brawl wasn''t exactly on his "Welcoming the Pilgrims" agenda. Nope, not helpful at all. Who could''ve guessed that the day would devolve into flying debris, glowing scythes, and bloodlust-driven chaos? Now, instead of quietly wrapping up the event, he was stuck dealing with a super-strong enemy who had decided that Solis was his personal sparring partner. Lucky him. Truly, the gods must be laughing.

    Like any honorable warriors¡ªor just people who couldn''t skip formalities¡ªthey kicked things off with introductions. Because, of course, it''s polite to exchange names before trying to beat each other senseless. Manners, even in battle, mattered.

    The vampire went first, practically oozing smugness. "Lester," he said, his tone dripping with superiority. "Captain of the Third Hunting Team."

    Finally, thought Solis, a name that doesn''t sound like it came from a haunted poetry book. Not that it made a difference. Names weren''t going to stop anyone from swinging weapons. Still, it was nice not to have to stumble over something ridiculous.

    Solis gave the vampire a flat look, crossed his arms, and muttered, "Solis." No excitement, no drama. Just his name. End of story. The vampire blinked, likely wondering if he''d just been disrespected or if Solis was saving all his energy for the actual fight.

    Spoiler: it was definitely the first one.

    The evening sun was just about to dip below the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over the battlefield. It was the kind of lighting artists would immortalize in paintings, but there was no time to appreciate it. For the Avians, the setting sun was an ominous reminder of their dwindling advantage. Darkness was coming, and with it, a night tilted in favor of the vampires. They thrived in it, their strength amplified under the veil of shadow.

    Solis could see other skirmishes erupting nearby. Vampires swarmed with calculated chaos, their movements precise and coordinated, while the strongest ones were being handled by the Luminarii. The air was filled with the clash of steel, shouts, and the occasional explosion of ethercraft. But Solis''s focus remained locked on Lester, who just stood there, scythe in hand, as if daring Solis to make the first move. The confidence radiating from the vampire was infuriating.

    The standoff ended with Lester rushing forward, his scythe''s purple blade gleaming menacingly. Etched into its center was a dark blue catalyst that pulsed faintly, adding an eerie glow to the black handle. Solis spun his spear effortlessly, deflecting the attack and ducking just in time as the misty blade of a spectral grim reaper slashed past his head. He had seen enough battles to know that catalyst-enhanced weapons were not to be taken lightly.

    "Not something I want to block," Solis muttered, recalculating his distance with each of Lester''s fluid strikes. His opponent was skilled, no doubt about that. Every swing of the scythe was precise, lethal, and delivered with unnerving speed. But there was something¡­ underwhelming about him. This wasn''t the challenge Solis had expected. It felt like Lester was testing him, gauging his strength rather than truly trying to kill him. That realization didn''t sit well.

    Still, his gaze flickered toward the skirmish where Flora fought. Her blade barely scratched her opponent, her movements desperate but determined. Though she dodged the vampire''s lunge, Solis felt a pang of worry. She was fighting with heart, but heart alone wouldn''t keep her alive. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus. Celeste, his firstborn, was nearby too, and while he had faith in her abilities, Flora''s inexperience made her a liability in this chaos.

    ''Stay focused,'' he reminded himself, deflecting another strike. His instincts told him something was off. Why attack in the evening? Why not wait for full darkness? The most probable answer was that this assault was just one part of a larger plan. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Lester stepped back, his scythe glowing brighter as the catalyst pulsed again. A jagged arc of blue lightning coursed through the blade. Solis didn''t wait to find out what would happen next. He spread his wings and launched into the air as Lester brought his weapon down with a deafening roar. The blade''s energy exploded outward, sending a shockwave that cracked the cobblestones and tore through a nearby building. Debris flew in every direction, a wooden cart bursting apart and scattering fruit and trinkets across the street. A large chunk of rubble crashed where Solis had stood moments ago.

    He barely had time to dodge a flying wooden beam before stabilizing himself mid-air. Lester was already preparing for another strike when a new presence emerged behind Solis. He spun just in time to block a slash from another vampire.

    "Now who might you be?" Solis asked, his tone calm but laced with annoyance. "Let me guess, captain of the Second Hunting Team?"

    "Close," the vampire replied, stepping back with a smirk. "Edgar, captain of the Fourth."

    Solis''s eyes darted around as more figures materialized from black mist. One by one, six vampires appeared, each radiating an aura of authority. They formed a loose circle around him, their confidence palpable. It wasn''t just confidence¡ªit was the assurance of hunters who had cornered their prey.

    "A pleasure to finally cross blades with you, Avian Solis. Regent of the Avians. Warrior of Light," Edgar said, his voice dripping with mock respect.

    "Seems like you''ve done your homework," Solis replied dryly. He raised his spear, light gathering at its tip. "Let''s get this over with, shall we?"

    Edgar grinned, but before he could respond, Solis cut him off. "No need for introductions. Captains One through Six, I presume? Let''s skip the pleasantries."

    "What a shame," Edgar said. "It''s our first and last conversation, after all. Have a pleasant sleep, Regent of Light."

    Solis frowned. "What nonsense are you¡ª"

    He stopped mid-sentence as another vampire stepped forward, his deep voice commanding attention. This one carried an air of leadership, his presence more menacing than the rest.

    "We''re talking about this," the vampire said, raising his arms in a T-pose. Behind him, the sky split open like a curtain, revealing a void of pure darkness. The horizon darkened unnaturally fast, the edges of a dome swallowing the evening sky like ink spreading across parchment.

    Solis''s grip on his spear tightened as realization struck. Every second wasted brought his people closer to being trapped. ''Enough games,'' he growled, light blazing around his spear''s tip.

    He subconsciously looked at the fighting Avians and pilgrims, everyone tried to escape the dome, except for him and three luminarii present¡ª one of them being Celeste, his daughter.

    The vampires all seems to have vanished leaving only the captains.

    Solis cursed, he had to make the dome disappear before it was fully formed¡ª it felt dangerous.

    But he refrained, that might also be what the enemies want. He did not know anything about the attack and if he were to attack it blindly¡ª it might backfire on him instead.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Satan and Gabriel were recording two parts of the fight, though neither seemed particularly thrilled about their assignments. Satan opted for the fight involving Solis, muttering something about needing "proper lighting and theatrics" for the footage to really shine.

    Gabriel, on the other hand, drew the short straw¡ª or so he claimed¡ª and ended up tailing a Luminarii who was busy slicing through vampires like they owed him money. "Could we at least get a bloodless option?" Gabriel sighed, dodging a severed vampire limb with a well-practiced, but unnecessary, fineness¡ª since they are intangible and all.

    The group hadn''t originally planned to visit this particular battleground. In fact, Satan had spent most of the morning lobbying for a coffee break, while Gabriel was sketching rough storyboards for an entirely different conflict.

    But somehow, they all felt an inexplicable pull toward this place. It was the kind of pull that suggested either destiny or a really good buffet, though it was unclear which.

    Lucifer, Asmodeus, and the newly appointed Barachiel also found themselves arriving as if drawn by an unseen force. Lucifer, with his usual flair for delegation, immediately suggested that only two of them stay to record. "There are other stories that need capturing," he said, adjusting his immaculate collar as if he were auditioning for Recorder of the Year.

    The others agreed, mostly because disagreeing with Lucifer often led to long-winded monologues about pride and a recorder''s responsibility. Gabriel quietly stifled a yawn while Satan gave an exaggerated bow.

    The recorders then split up. Asmodeus, like the lone wolf she was (or so she insisted, despite her tendency to monologue loudly to herself), wandered off solo. Meanwhile, Barachiel found herself paired with Lucifer, who took it upon himself to teach her the ropes of being a recorder.

 Chapter 174 - 174: So... Whoâ€™s Actually Paying for All This Damage?

    The battlefield was a total mess. Solis barely had time to think as the darkness from the dome encroached over them, swallowing up the sunset like it had been waiting all day for this moment. The Captains stood there like they owned the place, their eager expressions betrayed the calm air they tried hard to keep.

    Solis''s grip on his spear tightened. "Celeste!" he called out, his voice cutting through the noise of clashing steel and shouts. "That dome is bad news. We''ve gotta stop it from closing in!"

    Celeste turned toward him, her bronze eyes blazing¡ª but confused as to where her opponent went. But she looked just as intense as always, her glaive''s blade stopped its flames and started to radiate intense light. "Got it, Dad," she said firmly. She glanced at the other two Luminarii nearby.

    "You two," Her tone was not a command in any aspect, but it felt like one. "With me. We''re hitting the left side of that thing!"

    The Luminarii didn''t even hesitate, they were equal when it came to ranks, and she had no right to issue command to them¡ª but this was not time to argue.

    They moved fast, like they''d practiced for this a million times (They actually did). Celeste dashed toward the dome, her glaive carving through the air with the blade leaving trails of golden light. The other two followed her lead, the catalyst on their spears started to light up intensely as they started to build up their next move.

    But the Captains weren''t just going to stand there and watch. Edgar, the one who''d been running his mouth earlier, raised a hand, and shadows erupted from the ground like snakes, lashing toward the Luminarii. "You think we''d make it that easy?" he taunted, his grin was wide with sharp edges.

    Solis jumped in, spinning his spear to block the attack before it could hit Celeste. The light from his weapon clashed with the shadows, scattering them like smoke. "Focus on the dome!" he yelled. "I''ll handle these fools!"

    "Handle us?" Edgar sneered, stepping closer. "Big words for a bird about to lose his wings."

    "Less talking, more fighting," Solis shot back. "Come at me at once if you have the guts."

    "Are you sure? You might come to regret those words later." The deep-voiced vampire said as he raised his hand.

    A red orb formed and shot a beam toward Solis at an intense speed which he barely had the time to react to. But he spun his spear with infused ether for durability¡ª and deflected the red beam, but the recoil was enough for him to flinch.

    He rushed forward toward the deep-voiced captain, but he vanished¡ª forcing Solis to change his target.

    He thrust his spear forward, and a burst of light exploded from its tip, forcing Edgar to back off. But before Solis could press the attack, another Captain¡ªa woman with long, flowing hair and a curved scythe¡ª appeared in front of him, her scythe swinging toward his head.

    Solis ducked, barely avoiding the blade, then twisted around to counter. His spear struck her weapon with a sharp clang, and the impact sent a jolt up his arm. She was strong¡ª really strong. Her strikes came in quick, precise bursts, each one taking a toll on his body as he blocked the swift yet heavy barrage.

    "What? You do not seem so full of yourself now." The woman asked in a mocking tone.

    "Oh sorry," Solis smiled, "You were too weak for me to be full of myself."

    She didn''t seem amused (Who would when it''s you being mocked). Her attacks sped up, each swing aimed precisely at the opening in his defense. Solis parried, dodged, and countered where he could, but it was clear she wasn''t playing around.

    "Is this too weak?" Solis muttered under his breath, mostly to himself but with another motivation.

    "Huh? Getting weak are we?" The woman was now fully amused.

    Two other captains joined in on the fight. Pushing Solis back. Two other captains went to stop the Luminarii, but the most dangerous one was not to be seen anywhere¡ª the deep-voiced one who looked like their captain.

    Meanwhile, Celeste and her team were going all out on the dome. She leaped into the air, her glaive slashing in wide arcs that sent golden beams crashing against the dark barrier. The other two Luminarii followed suit, their strikes lighting up the battlefield as they tried to tear the dome apart.

    One of the Captains, a tall man with a dark green scythe stepped into their path. "You won''t break it in time," he said, his voice seemed calm and assured. He swung his scythe in a wide arc, and a wave of shadow surged toward the trio.

    Celeste didn''t flinch. She flipped forward, spinning like a whirlwind as her glaive''s light cut through the dark wave. "Keep hitting it!" she shouted to her team. "I''ll handle him!"

    The Captain smirked. "Brave, but foolish," he said, lunging at her with a speed that made the air whistle.

    Back with Solis, things weren''t looking great. The dome was nearly halfway closed now, and every second spent fighting felt like another nail in the coffin. Solis gritted his teeth, his wings flaring out as he shoved his spear forward in a desperate attempt to break through his opponent''s defenses. He managed to knock one back, but the effort left him open for just a second too long.

    That was all Edgar needed. He appeared behind Solis, his scythe cutting through the air toward his back. Solis spun around just in time, blocking the blade with his spear, but the force of the hit sent him stumbling.

    "You''re getting slow, Regent," Edgar said with a chuckle. "Maybe you''re not as legendary as the stories say."

    Solis glared at him, light beginning to pulse around his spear. "Legendary enough to end this fight," he shot back, his voice filled with forced determination.

    He raised his spear high, and the light around it exploded into a brilliant flash. The Captains recoiled, shielding their eyes as Solis launched into the air. The glow from his weapon grew brighter and brighter, until it felt like the whole battlefield was bathed in sunlight.

    Solis took aim at the dome and threw his spear with all his strength. It shot forward like a comet, a streak of light tearing through the darkness as it headed straight for the dome''s center.

    The Captains'' eyes widened. "Stop!" Edgar roared dramatically, but his voice was not aimed at nothing¡ª he was actually commanding the grim reaper behind him. A shadow crept over toward the flying spear, grabbing the end of its handle, but it was too late.

    The spear struck the dome with a deafening crash, and the entire structure shuddered. Cracks spread across its surface like spiderwebs, and for a moment, it seemed like the whole thing might collapse.

    But the dome held, just barely, and the cracks began to heal themselves. Solis''s heart sank. "No way¡­" he muttered, landing back on the ground. The Captains looked smug again, their confidence returning.

    "You''re out of time," Edgar said, his grin returning. "The night belongs to us."

    Solis clenched his fists, and the spear appeared back in his hand again. A smirk crept over his lips.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    The morning sun slowly crept in as the drakonis family started to board their CloudStrider headed for the family house in Wistmere.

    Judge was perched up in his grandfather''s hands, and Liam¡ª against his extreme protests about being old enough to walk on his own¡ª was being held by Seraphis. His face was enough to tell anyone that he was not in a good mood, but Seraphis was smiling.

    "Grandpa?" He looked at the face behind a short trimmed pristine white beard. "Mom and Melina said we won''t go out of the house until we turned ten, but why were we let out of the house then?"

    "Huh?" Gereon looked at Judge, amused, "You''re asking this now?"

    "I was too excited to ask before, and now seems like the right time."

    His grandfather laughed lightly as they got inside, "It was not just words, she really tried to not let all of you go out, but it is mandatory for a Drakonis boy to head out accompanied by two trained guards while they are four."

    "Boys? So Amber didn''t go?"

    "I mean She wanted to, but your mother won''t let her even after we all said her to let her."

    "Why though?" He was even more confused, "Won''t it serve as a good experience at a young age?"

    "That is the aim," Gereon walked into Judge''s room inside the ship. "But your mother had a bad experience with such an arrangement."

    "Did she lose someone?"

    "No she did not lose anyone, it''s not such a sad story," Gereon lowered Judge on his bed, "but I will tell you when we have time." S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Aww! You have work Grandpa?" Judge asked disappointingly, almost as if he was a four-year-old (Technically he is, but...), "Tell me a time then."

    "A time huh," Gereon rubbed his beard, "How about before bed, I might be free at that time."

    "It''s a promise okay."

    "K''ay Judge." Gereon Smiled brightly and left the room.

    Night huh? Judge looked at the desk set up and the box with artifacts nearby.

    "Solarae," He called his spirit after making sure there was no one nearby by using a quick ether search.

 Chapter 175 - 175: Solaraes TED talk on psyche

    Judge placed his hand against the wall like he was trying to absorb some ancient wisdom from the wood. He squinted dramatically, as if concentration alone could give him answers. Predictably, there was no one nearby. No whispers, no lurking shadows, just the faint creak of the Cloud Strider taking off from its dock.

    "Figures," he muttered, dropping his hand. It wasn''t like he expected someone to be lurking outside, but old habits die hard. Paranoia came with the job.

    "Solarae!" he called, addressing his spirit companion, loud enough to make it clear he was annoyed. He hadn''t taken Solarae along when he left the house earlier, partly because the spirit had refused outright. Something about ''being a liability with his current strength''.

    From the box of artifacts sitting near the side of his study, a faint glow flickered. The light hesitated for a moment¡ª probably on purpose¡ª before floating lazily into the air. It looked like a tiny firefly, except less motivated.

    "You called, Master?" the orb said, its voice felt like it had woken up from a nap it didn''t want to end.

    The light began to grow, forming a thin silhouette that eventually morphed into something vaguely human. Solarae''s form was still unimpressive¡ª tall and lanky with messy dark hair¡ª but he had a slightly healthier glow than usual, less pale and less skinny. Judge wasn''t sure if it was a sign of progress or just good lighting. Talking about lighting, the guy''s hair started to reflect all the light there was like a damn mirror.

    "Don''t act so smug," Judge said, falling backward onto his bed. "You''ve been freeloading in that box all day. At least pretend you''re useful."

    "My liege," Solarae replied, bowing with exaggerated finesse. "I live only to serve."

    "Yeah, yeah. So, any updates? Memories coming back yet? Or are we still stuck in the tragic amnesia phase?"

    Solarae knelt like a knight swearing fealty, though the effect was ruined by the faint smile on his face. "Recovering my memories will require strength, my lord. And as I''ve mentioned, I am not yet strong enough."

    "Great. So, where are we at, strength-wise? Halfway there? A third? Or are we still at the ''weak and helpless'' stage?"

    Solarae shook his head. "Not even a quarter, Master."

    Judge groaned, draping an arm over his eyes like a bored theater actor. "Unbelievable. You can''t speed this up? Multitask a little? Strength and memories? You know, efficiency?"

    "My lord," Solarae said with the exhaustion of someone explaining algebra to a toddler, "it is technically possible. But doing so would be... unwise." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Unwise how?" Judge arched a brow.

    "My lord," Solarae began, his tone taking on the patience of someone explaining why you don''t microwave metal, or glass, "recovering memories now would risk overwhelming my psyche. The principles I once knew are far beyond my current psyche''s capacity."

    Judge peeked out from under his arm. "What happens if your psyche gets overwhelmed? Do you start seeing things? Froth at the mouth? Explode?"

    "The mildest outcome," Solarae said, gesturing with one hand like he was delivering a lecture, "would be a headache so severe that you''ll wish for death. The more serious cases involve madness, with strange voices whispering bizarre ideas into your mind, delusions of grandeur, and eventually losing all grip on reality. Some might think it''s some ancient evil guiding you, but no¡ª it''s just your own brain turning against you."

    "Fantastic," Judge muttered. "Sounds like a party."

    He sat up and wandered over to his desk, grabbing a random trinket to fidget with. "So, let me get this straight: your psyche is like a box, and principles are... what? Stuff you shove inside it?"

    "Not quite there, but it could be said so," Solarae said, nodding. "But if the box is too small and you try to cram too much in, it breaks. Or worse, it tries to expand too quickly and¡ª "

    "Boom. Got it," Judge interrupted, waving him off.

    He twirled the trinket between his fingers, frowning slightly. "I had this massive headache once after using Enhanced Cognition for too long. Was that my psyche breaking down or what?"

    Solarae stood, crossing his arms. "Psyche doesn''t deplete, Master. It''s your brain''s capacity to understand principles¡ª it can grow over time but never diminishes. What you experienced was likely ether depletion. Ether fuels principles to create ethercrafts, and when you run out, your body starts to feel the strain. Push too far, and you risk ceasing to exist altogether."

    "Cease to exist?" Judge raised an eyebrow. "Like, poof? Gone? Just like that?"

    "More like a gradual fade," Solarae said with a shrug. "First, you''ll feel exhausted. Then, your form will start to unravel, and finally¡ª poof."

    Judge squinted at him. "You make it sound way too casual for something that terrifying."

    "I''ve seen worse," Solarae said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve.

    "Right." Judge set the trinket down. "But what about that headache? It didn''t feel like just being tired."

    "Master," Solarae said, his tone shifting to something like mild exasperation, "did you actually understand the principle behind the ethercraft you were using?"

    "...Not exactly," Judge admitted.

    "There''s your answer. That seems like the case of a divine blessing, a divine power likely powered your ethercraft. When that ran out, that principle starts to depend on your psyche, and it clearly wasn''t up to the task."

    "Lovely," Judge muttered. "Okay, next question. My mom sealed my extreme emotions so I wouldn''t accidentally blow up the house or something. Was that really necessary?"

    "Absolutely," Solarae said, nodding firmly. "Unchecked divine power can be incredibly dangerous, especially when tied to volatile emotions."

    "Define dangerous," Judge said, narrowing his eyes.

    But before Solarae could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Judge froze, his eyes darting to the door.

    "Dragons value privacy," he muttered under his breath. "So whoever''s knocking better have a good reason."

    Solarae wasted no time reverting to his light-ball form. He zipped back into the artifact box like a kid hiding from chores.

    Judge sighed, straightening his vest and brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. "Interruptions... the bane of my existence."

    He strode to the door, muttering under his breath about how he was starting to miss the peace of being alone.

 Chapter 176 - 176: Dadâ€™s Got a Dome and Iâ€™ve Got Questions

    "Master?"

    Judge stared at the figure outside his door, blinking as if he had just seen a ghost. Unfortunately, it wasn''t some ethereal spirit coming to offer him peace and quiet¡ªit was Seraphis, standing there like she''d just gotten back from single-handedly conquering a small country. The words "got extra work for you" were practically tattooed across her forehead.

    And then, as if the universe hadn''t punished him enough today, Eleyn popped up from behind her like an overly enthusiastic stage prop.

    "I''m here too, Judge," she chirped, her tone too sweet for comfort. He felt dangerously at ease when he heard that.

    Judge''s stomach sank. This was bad. This was Mom and her Best Friend Tag-Teaming to Ruin My Day bad.

    "By the way," Eleyn added, stepping into his room without any restrictions, it was her child''s room after all, "I sensed your spirit earlier. Where did it go?"

    Judge sighed deeply, a sigh that carried the weight of every frustration he had ever experienced. "He went into hiding the moment he sensed you both."

    Eleyn raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Hiding? From me? Judge, for the record¡ª I am loved by the spirits, unless your spirit has the same nasty personality as you"

    "Cut me some slack Mom, at least in the consideration of me being your son."

    Seraphis, on the other hand, skipped past the niceties entirely. "Cut the small talk." She barged into the room with the confidence of someone who had already decided they owned it.

    Judge pinched the bridge of his nose... and sighed (again), muttering something unintelligible about boundaries. "By all means, make yourselves at home, even though we are technically on a ship," he said dryly, stepping aside to let the chaos unfold.

    Seraphis flopped onto the couch with the grace of a battle-worn warrior, Eleyn following behind her with far more poise.

    Judge, accepting whatever fate had in store for him, sank into the green couch opposite them. Between them sat a coffee table that served no real purpose except to awkwardly fill space.

    "Alright," Judge said, leaning back and trying to look anywhere but at the two most intimidating women in his life. The coffee table looked extremely well polished, and it served as the anchor point of Judge''s eyes for the time being. "What''s this about?"

    Seraphis leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, exuding the energy of someone about to drop a bombshell. "I told your mother about all the purple eyes I''ve found during my travels."

    Judge froze for half a second, his mask of indifference almost cracking. Purple eyes. Oh no. He nodded stiffly, hoping to keep the conversation moving before Eleyn''s detective instincts kicked in.

    "Mhm," he managed, playing it cool. Technically, he was the one who had fed Seraphis that information in the first place. To her credit, she''d done an excellent job of keeping his involvement under wraps. The last thing he needed was his mother interrogating him about how he knew things he shouldn''t know.

    "And," she said, dragging out the word like it was a rare delicacy, "I also told your mother that you promised to help."

    Judge stared at her, his brain stuttering to process what she''d just said. "WHAT?!"

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "Father!"

    Flora cried out, her voice cutting through the heavy air as she darted toward the massive dome forming ahead. Her wings flapped like a human-sized hummingbird on crack, but as she approached, an invisible force knocked her back like a bad joke that just wouldn''t land. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She winced and hovered mid-air, her wings now beating normally because¡ªsurprisingly, flapping wings faster takes up a lot of energy. She shook her head to clear the buzzing in her ears.

    Around her, other avians were having the same luck¡ªor rather, lack thereof. The air around the dome was filled with the annoying sound of countless flapping like there was some massive immigration campaign for birds going on.

    On both sides of her, fellow avians were throwing every attack they could muster at the dome like overly eager moths to a flame. "Nope. Nope. Still nope," Flora muttered under her breath, watching one particularly determined bird bounce off with a grunt that sounded like it came from deep in his soul.

    She flapped back a bit, giving herself a breather to think. The dome itself wasn''t just some random wall¡ªit felt strong and sinister. And her father, Regent Solis Venthart, wasn''t one to sit quietly when he was being swallowed up by a giant dome. Who would sit idly when they are being swallowed up by a giant black dome?

    The Venthart family name carried weight¡ªlike the kind of weight that made people pause mid-sentence and reconsider their choice of words.

    Only the ruling family with direct bloodline ties could use the name, and while branch members existed as a backup plan, in case the current ruling family disappeared overnight, everyone knew the true power rested with Solis, his wife Tserina, and their two daughters, Celeste and Flora.

    Flora bit her lip, flapping her wings and looking over to the Luminarii who came to help. Her father should have been lighting up the battlefield like an avian-sized beacon of hope by now, but there wasn''t even a hint of the dazzling light skills he was known for.

    "Okay, brain," she muttered, tapping her temple as if that would help it work faster. "Let''s think this through. Either he can''t use light skills right now, or he''s keeping his cards close to his chest. But can''t he finish this through, the sun is about to disappear, I think."

    She chewed on that thought, hovering in place as her mind raced. If the sun had set completely, she could understand him holding back¡ªlight-based powers didn''t exactly work well in pitch-black darkness. But the sun wasn''t gone yet. It was hanging low on the horizon, painting the dome in hues of gold and crimson. Her father could use his powers. Which meant...

    "He''s up to something," she realized aloud, her stomach twisting with equal parts dread and determination.

    Flora''s wings angled back, and she pushed herself higher for a better view. She closed and opened her eyes, they now shined like polished gold. This was her principle of perceiving life in the vicinity, now she could even see silhouettes of living beings in the vicinity.

    And then she saw it.

 Chapter 177 - 177: Who Said That? Oh Wait, Iâ€™m Out Cold

    Regent Solis wasn''t flailing or panicking like the avians outside the dome. He was holding back and making it so that he was being beaten, every action and gesture of his was deliberate. Flora''s eyes narrowed as her heart skipped a beat. He knows exactly what he''s doing.

    Then there was her sister and a few other Avians, all of them moved as if they were panicking. But she could tell otherwise, they had caught on to the fact that her father was planning something.

    Her father''s stance screamed strategy, not desperation. But what kind of strategy? Was he luring something in? Keeping something out? Was this part of some grand plan he conveniently forgot to share with his youngest daughter?

    "Of course, he''d keep me in the dark," Flora muttered, rolling her eyes. "Classic Dad move."

    She deactivated her eyes of perception since it used up a lot of ether, she replenished her ether reserves through the small catalyst on her necklace. "Why am I complaining?" She said to herself, "He hadn''t had the time for it due to the attack."

    Her thoughts were interrupted by a nearby avian crashing into the barrier after a slight flight mishap. "Oof! That thing''s solid!" the poor guy groaned, clutching his side as he spiraled downward.

    Flora winced sympathetically but didn''t have time to help. Her father''s actions demanded her full attention now.

    Focus, Flora. What''s his angle? she wondered, her mind running through the possibilities like a detective piecing together a case.

    As she watched the dome, she understood one thing. The dome, at least currently, served only one purpose. It is to keep the sunlight out. But it has not been formed completely and it might take a while for it to do so.

    But that was more of a question than an answer, if everything she heard about the night was correct. Then it should start the moment the sun sets behind the horizon. But why should they build something that keeps the inside dark when it is already turning night?

    She thought of one answer, her father could summon another sun, although not as powerful as the artifact of light much less the actual sun. And they were trying to hold him inside so the light wouldn''t reach the other Avians. But then why would her father drag this on?

    Then it struck her, her father had gone to the artifact of light, and he had not said a word about what happened to it. If it was missing¡ª he would have mentioned it when he was scolding her and told her to act fast.

    This meant that the artifact was safe and secure, and the Vampires might not know of it yet¡ª since it was tough to communicate when there was a fight going on. Or they might already know of it and be up to something else.

    Flora stared at the dome, whatever her father was planning¡ª she''d find a way to help.

    "Ahh, the light blessed, would you be as kind to traverse with me?"

    Flora heard a deep voice behind her, but before she could react, darkness swept over her.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    "What?!" Judge shot up from the couch like a startled rabbit. But as quickly as the surprise hit, he sank back down with a dramatic sigh. "Oh... that, the promise. Yeah, I did."

    Eleyn folded her arms, her sharp gaze zeroing in on him like a hawk spotting an injured mouse. "Why are you acting surprised if you already knew about it?"

    Judge floundered, sitting up a little straighter. "No, I wasn''t surprised about the promise! I was just startled by Master here barging in and making it sound like I forgot." He shot a look at Seraphis, who gave a smug little shrug.

    "Nice save," Eleyn replied, too lazy to argue. "So, you''ll help her, right?"

    Judge managed a strained smile, the kind that looked more like a frown. "Of course, Mom. I promised, didn''t I?"

    "Good," Eleyn said with a small nod, her expression softening ever so slightly before returning to its usual steeliness.

    Seraphis, now standing behind Eleyn with her arms crossed, chimed in, "Well, since that''s settled, we can start immediately..."

    "Umm, just a mild detail, we are still en route to Wistmere," Judge said in a mock innocent tone.

    "... after we arrive in Wistmere City." Seraphis completed what she had to say.

    "We''re not even there yet," Judge looked at her, "and you''re already planning my doom?"

    "It''s not doom; it''s an important mission," Seraphis corrected, smirking. "Also, you promised." She pointed at him like she''d just nailed the winning argument in a debate, which she did.

    Eleyn stepped in before Judge could retort. "We''re waiting until after Amber''s entrance ceremony," she clarified. "This isn''t something we can rush into."

    "Entrance ceremony?" Seraphis frowned. "That''s... what, two days away?"

    "A new year and two days, yes," Eleyn replied. "And after that, we''ll head out. I''ll be coming along, too."

    Judge groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Oh great. A full family road trip to chase after Master''s missing daughter. Just what I needed."

    "It''ll be a good experience for you and Liam," Eleyn added. "I''m bringing him along as well."

    "Liam?" Judge raised an eyebrow. "Mom, Liam can barely sit through an hour of sword practice without complaining that it is boring. How''s he going to handle a family adventure?"

    "He does better when it comes to practical," Eleyn said firmly. "This will be a good opportunity for him to see what it means to take responsibility and work as part of a team."

    Judge snorted. "Yeah, because nothing says ''teamwork'' like tracking down a missing person with just a few leads and a trail colder than the north''s frost."

    "Stop being dramatic," Eleyn said, giving him a pointed look.

    Seraphis, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying herself. "I think it''ll be fun. Liam might surprise you. And besides, you''ll have me leading the way. What could go wrong?"

    Judge gave her a flat look. "Master, with all due respect, I don''t think I''ve ever heard a sentence more cursed than that."

    Seraphis grinned. "Aw, come on. Where''s your sense of adventure?"

    "Buried somewhere under a mountain of common sense," Judge muttered.

    Eleyn clapped her hands lightly, signaling the end of the discussion. "It''s settled, then. After Amber''s ceremony, we''ll start this journey together."

    Judge sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Fine. But just so we''re clear, I''m not carrying Liam''s stuff. That''s non-negotiable."

    "Noted," Eleyn said with a small smile, though there was a glint in her eye that suggested she had other plans.

    Seraphis stretched and headed for the door, pausing to look back at Judge. "Get some rest, kid. You''re gonna need it."

    "We are still a week and two days away mind you."

    As the door closed behind her, Judge slumped further into the couch, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life''s great mysteries.

    "Amber gets to attend an entrance ceremony, Liam gets a ''learning experience,'' and I get dragged into this madness. Life''s just fantastic," he grumbled.

    Eleyn gave him a knowing look. "Have you ever considered the possibility that you may be less experienced in some regards when compared to Liam? Besides, you''ll manage, you always do." Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Thanks for the overwhelming confidence, Mom," Judge replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "Don''t stay up too late," Eleyn said as she left the room. "We''ll be busy when we get to Wistmere."

    Judge sat in silence for a moment, then let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "Great."

 Chapter 178 - 178: The heavens endowed

    Solis was relaxed¡ª way too relaxed for what was shaping up to be a fight that should''ve sent even the most hardened warriors scrambling for backup. It was the kind of calm that made you think he either had an unbeatable plan or had given up completely and was waiting for the end.

    As the night rolled in, a giant dome that looked like a massive hat that lost its colors stretched long across the battlefield, and the nocturnal creatures¡ª vampires and their ilk¡ª began to perk up like it was their time to shine. Why? Because it literally was.

    "Alright, lads," Solis muttered under his breath, spinning his spear lazily. "You''ve had your fun. Now it''s my turn."

    The problem? He was lying. It wasn''t his turn. The sun was sinking, taking with it his powers, leaving him with about as much energy as a wind-up toy that''s seen better days. The vampires knew it too. Their smug grins gleamed in the darkness like cheap jewelry at a market stall.

    One of the captains lunged, his scythe slicing through the air with the precision of someone who practiced in front of a mirror. Solis parried with an exaggerated grunt, letting the recoil push him back a step. It was all for show, of course. The spear''s butt connected with the back of the captain''s head in a satisfying thud.

    "Whoops! Butterfingers," Solis quipped, twirling his weapon. The captain crumpled to the ground, and Solis turned his attention to the next.

    But even as he fought, his thoughts strayed. Something was off. He couldn''t feel his daughter anymore. And by "feel," he didn''t mean some sentimental parental connection. It was more literal than that. Celeste, his eldest, was in the dome with him, theoretically safe. Theoretically because, well, it was in the darkness against the vampires.

    The Avians weren''t making things any easier. Their flight skills were unmatched, their movements more slippery than soap in a bathhouse. Every attack thrown their way missed, as if they''d taken a masterclass in "How to Annoy Ground-bound Opponents."

    And then there was Flora Venthart. His youngest. Her presence hadn''t just faded¡ª it vanished. Completely. Not dead¡ª thankfully, her essence would''ve ebbed away like a smudged ink blot if that were the case. No, this was sudden, deliberate. Kidnapping seemed likely. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Solis sighed. "Of course it''s Flora. It''s always Flora."

    He wasn''t going to stick around to see what these vampires wanted. He''d played along long enough. If he played longer, he could get some answers, but the situation requires sacrifices.

    The white catalyst embedded in the middle of his spear began to glow. The air around him shifted, shimmering like heatwaves on a summer road. His bronze eyes burned gold, and light seeped from them as though the sun itself was waking up.

    The captains paused. One of them, the third captain with a normal name that he forgot, muttered something about not signing up for this level of trouble before promptly disappearing into the shadows.

    Solis smirked. "Smart move."

    The remaining captains weren''t so lucky. They charged him, weapons drawn, their movements frantic but coordinated. Solis dodged easily, their blades cutting through empty air.

    "You call that teamwork?" he mocked. "My kids argue over pie slices better than this."

    He raised his spear, and the golden hum in the air grew louder. Then he did something unexpected¡ª he began to chant. Most experienced warriors didn''t need to; their minds were strong enough to handle ethercraft without the aid. But this principle was so complex that it required even the experienced regent to chant.

    "The light that opens the clouds,

    From the heavens endowed¡­"

    A captain snarled and lunged, aiming for Solis''s ribs. Solis sidestepped, letting the vampire stumble past. "You''re really committed to this whole dying thing, huh?" he said, smacking the vampire''s backside with the flat of his spear. "Respect."

    "Carve the darkness,

    Let the sun rule the sky¡­"

    The captains'' faces turned grim, their earlier confidence evaporating like morning dew. One of them actually tripped over his own feet in his haste to retreat. But Solis could tell one thing, they were acting, but they were not good enough to be picked up by any theaters.

    Solis thrust his spear upward, golden ether exploding from its blade in a radiant arc.

    "Sunrise!" he bellowed, the word echoing across the battlefield like the punchline to a very expensive joke. This made the captains let all their acting loose and grin like a madman... or madwoman.

    And¡­ nothing happened. The golden light fizzled out with an anticlimactic puff. The captains stared at him, expressions ranging from confusion to poorly concealed confusion.

    Solis lowered his spear, tilting his head like a teacher waiting for a wrong answer to sink in. "Oh, you thought that was it? No, no. That was just the prelude. The overture. The... warm-up act."

    The captains didn''t look convinced, but they also didn''t move. Solis raised a hand, signaling for a dramatic pause.

    "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Where was I?"

    Just as the vampires began to realize he might''ve been bluffing, Solis reached into his coat and pulled out a small artifact¡ª a smooth, obsidian orb etched with intricate patterns. The captains'' eyes widened in recognition.

    "Wait," one of them shouted. "That¡­ that was stolen!"

    "Was it?" Solis asked innocently, rolling the orb in his palm. "Funny thing about artifacts. They always find their way back to their rightful owner."

    With a flick of his wrist, he released the orb into the air. It floated upwards, emitting a low, resonant hum. And the sky outside the dome started to turn bright as a new sun emerged.

    "There we go," Solis said, nodding approvingly. "Takes a second to warm up, you know? Like a really old oven."

    The vampires looked at the dome''s walls in horror as it started to slowly fade and evaporate. The dome''s purpose was to absorb any light and keep the darkness, but it was not strong enough to take on the artifact''s light.

    That was also why they were smiling when Solis started to cast his principle to bring a fake sun, along with their efforts to steal the artifact of light. They wanted to see despair in the regent''s eyes before they killed him.

    "Good effort for the plan," Solis said, standing over a vampire he knocked down. "D minus for execution, though."

 Chapter 179 - 179: Todays grave of a man who tried to live for tommorrow

    Isadora Rivet, now a widow as solemn as an overcast sky but only in the image she so carefully curated¡ª because heaven forbid anyone suspect she might have had something to do with her husband''s sudden and tragic demise. Or, to be precise, the demise of the man who was playing husband while secretly ''monitoring'' her, like some wannabe spy stuck in a bad mystery novel.

    She sipped her morning tea with the elegance of a cat that just knocked over a priceless vase, flipping lazily through the newspaper. For once, she wasn''t dressed to slay¡ª both figuratively and literally. Instead, she wore a simple black blouse paired with high-waisted pants. It was a look that screamed, "I''m grieving!" while whispering, "Or am I just tired?"

    The butler, ever the perfect portrait of a man who might have better things to do (but will never say so), entered to inform her of a visitor.

    "Madam," he said with a bow that could rival a bending reed, "There is a guest asking for the late Master"

    Her eyebrow twitched. Asking for Noel Rivet? Oh, the irony. She almost laughed, but she settled for a quiet smirk hidden behind her teacup.

    If this visitor was here to see her late husband, there were two possibilities. Either they didn''t know he was dead (awkward), or they were here for some shady merchant business. Or both because, let''s be honest, the assassins had all gotten the memo¡ª Noel Rivet had kicked the bucket and clocked out of life permanently.

    Still, Isadora decided against shooing them away. Visitors often brought condolences wrapped in the kind of flattery that could feed her ego for days¡ª or, on rare occasions, actual business opportunities.

    Besides, due to her enhanced senses as a recorder, she could sense quite a few assassins keeping a good watch on her. Probably debating whether to take notes on her behavior or just admire her resilience post-"tragedy."

    She waved her hand at the butler, her face an impressive canvas of exhaustion. No, it wasn''t grief¡ª Lucifer''s relentless training had sapped every ounce of her energy. That demon of discipline had even convinced the assassins she''d simply moved hotels, which honestly deserved a round of applause.

    But she knew why they took her back without further explanations, they think Lucifer had taken Isadora''s sword to kill Noel, a pure mockery towards them¡ª but they could not do anything at the time fearing Isadora''s safety. What fools, fearing the safety of their enemy and former test subject.

    Moments later, her guest arrived. A man stepped through the door with the air of someone who knew he was being watched but couldn''t care less. He wore a cream double-breasted coat that looked freshly ironed, a gray flat hat perched confidently on his head, and a monocle that screamed, "I have better eyesight than you, but I wear this because I can... and to look more sophisticated."

    The butler, still channeling the spirit of a silent movie actor, carefully set down the visitor''s brown leather bag and polished black cane before stepping back like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

    "Pleased to meet you, Madam Isadora," the man said with a bow so dramatic it deserved a standing ovation. "Detective Felix Hawke at your service. May I inquire where your husband might be?"

    Oh, this was rich. Isadora almost snorted but caught herself just in time. She gestured toward the couch, masking her amusement with a weary sigh. "Please, have a seat before we talk."

    Detective Hawke, not one to stand on ceremony, perched himself on the couch with the poise of a man about to crack a particularly juicy case¡ª or maybe just ask for tea.

    "What business do you have with my husband?" she asked, her tone the perfect blend of curiosity and boredom. "I trust he''s not under investigation? I do doubt that man did anything warranting an investigation."

    "Rest assured, Madam," the detective replied with a reassuring smile that could probably sell umbrellas in the desert. "This is merely regarding a minor case. Your husband isn''t a suspect, but he might hold some valuable information."

    "Oh¡­" Isadora trailed off, letting the silence hang for dramatic effect before delivering her line with the precision of a seasoned actress. "I regret to inform you that my husband has¡­ passed."

    The smile evaporated from Hawke''s face faster than a sneeze in a hurricane. He stared at the table as though it was the most interesting piece of art in the universe. After a pause long enough to make her wonder if he''d fallen asleep, he finally raised his head. "My condolences." he paused again, "May I visit his grave?"

    "Of course," Isadora said with the kind of magnanimity one reserves for handing out extra cookies. "It''s not as if I''ve barred anyone from seeing it."

    The butler moved to escort Hawke, but Isadora waved him off. "I''ll accompany him. I have nothing better to do, and a walk sounds¡­ therapeutic."

    The butler didn''t argue¡ª he knew better than to poke that bear. Detective Hawke, on the other hand, simply nodded his thanks, probably realizing she was his best chance of not getting hopelessly lost. And speaking more seemed a worthless use of both time and energy.

    The duo set off, the graveyard just a short stroll from the mansion. Noel''s final resting place was under a sprawling oak tree, its leaves casting a dappled shadow over the solitary grave.

    "Well," Isadora said, folding her arms and surveying the scene with an air of mild amusement. "There he is. Alone. Quiet. As he always wanted to be."

    Hawke, to his credit, didn''t bat an eyelid. He stood there and prayed silently for the soul''s peaceful rest before reading the inscription on the tombstone.

    "His worry was about tomorrow, but he died tonight."

    "You wrote this?" He asked in mild amusement, it was neither respectful nor disrespectful words for a gravestone. But it was interesting. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "He asked me to write what I thought of him when he passed, said he''d do the same for me if I went first." She scoffed, "I had hoped for the latter obviously."

    Hawke said nothing, he could not find the right words. Both stared at the grave in silence.

    His worry was always about tomorrow, but he died tonight.

 Chapter 180 - 180: Grave Concerns (Literally)

    Felix, looking like he was on the brink of another detective epiphany, turned toward Isadora with that classic, ever-so-polite-but-somehow-persistent smile plastered on his face.

    "Madam Rivet, pardon my intrusion into your personal grief¡ª truly, my condolences¡ª but, uh, would it be entirely inappropriate to ask who killed him? You know, the one you''re mourning. A teensy bit of context might do wonders for my investigation."

    Isadora, who looked like she had been asked one too many questions on a day when she was just not in the mood, inhaled deeply. Her breath was the kind that screamed, I don''t have time for this nonsense, but in a very refined way.

    Finally, she spoke, carefully articulating each word as though talking to a particularly slow toddler, "I can tell you, Detective, but I must admit, I''m curious¡ª how exactly do you know he was killed? And don''t say it was a lucky guess. I hate lucky guesses."

    Felix, so pleased with himself, flashed a grin that he probably thought made him look dashing but instead came off as, ''Look at me, I know things you can''t begin to guess''.

    "Ah, it''s simple," he began, puffing out his chest just slightly for dramatic effect. "When you''ve got access to the kind of information I do¡ª royally employed detective here, you see¡ª it''s not exactly a deep mystery. My knowledge base is, uh, let''s just say... vast. Ridiculously vast. Almost annoyingly so, if you ask me." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Isadora gave a very neutral nod, though her gaze flickered¡ª just for a moment¡ª toward her husband''s grave. Subtle, yes, but not subtle enough. Felix noticed. (He always notices... well, he is a famous detective, for starts.)

    Meanwhile, in Isadora''s mind, a grim little slideshow of memories started playing, specifically the one where she buried her husband in that very grave with the same sword that had, well... prematurely ended his adventures.

    But Felix wasn''t finished basking in his own cleverness. Oh, no. He gestured vaguely, as though conjuring facts from the air itself.

    "See, I did my homework," he continued after the brief but useful pause, in the tone of someone who thinks they''re the only one in the room with two working brain cells. "Your dearly departed was healthy as a spectral steed, which I know because he''s been doing a lot of traveling lately. And let''s face it¡ª someone who''s constantly on the move doesn''t just keel over from natural causes without some... buildup. Like, no sudden trips to the hospital, no prior illnesses for a long while... I will pause there¡ª"

    He leaned in slightly, as if delivering a punchline to a joke only he found funny. "Also, his travel history? There have been a lot of unsolved mysteries in many of his visits to places, but not all, obviously. Coincidence? I think not. My professional opinion? He was involved in some seriously dangerous business, and, well, the business bit back."

    Isadora, outwardly calm but inwardly groaning, resisted the urge to roll her eyes so hard they''d fall out of her head. Of course, the detective was here for answers about her husband''s... deeds.

    Of course, he''d figured things out with that trademark mix of arrogance and deduction that almost all novel detectives are capable of. But still! She couldn''t help but think, What does this lordly nosy parker actually expect to achieve here? A gold star for effort?

    Without a word, she pivoted on her heel and began walking toward the mansion, her movements steady with an unanswered purpose. "I''ll keep my promise," she said, her tone clipped but polite. "I''ll tell you what you want to know. But not here. Let''s go somewhere more... private. There''s a pergola behind the house."

    She motioned for him to follow, her strides were steady and purposeful, like someone who had absolutely no time for nonsense.

    Meanwhile, the assassins she knew were lurking nearby weren''t bothering to be subtle¡ª likely because there wasn''t a single bit of cover to hide behind. She wondered, briefly, if Felix had noticed them yet while inside the house. Probably not. He has excellent observational capabilities, but the assassins are trained to hide.

    Felix, trotting along after her, decided to push his luck a little further, but his voice seemed confident as if he knew the answers. "You don''t seem too broken up about your husband''s death, if you don''t mind me saying so," he remarked, his voice almost playful but with an undertone of accusation.

    "In fact, back in the house, I''d almost say those were¡ª what''s the word?¡ª fake tears? But now... now I''m sensing something else entirely. A little something I like to call deep, deep hatred."

    Isadora stopped abruptly, turning to face him. Her smile was sharp, cold, and entirely unnerving¡ª like a viper sizing up its next meal. Felix, for all his bravado, couldn''t help but stiffen slightly as her piercing green eyes locked onto his.

    There was a dangerous, predatory glint in them, the kind of look that made you feel like you were two steps away from being eaten alive. "An astute observation, Detective," she said smoothly. "But as I''ve already told you, you''ll get your answers¡ª when we reach the pergola."

    Felix frowned, clearly not a fan of delayed gratification, and definitely capable of knowing there was some other agenda behind their visit to the pergola. "Why not just tell me here?"

    Isadora''s smile widened, though it didn''t reach her eyes. "Why? Why, you ask?" She sighed, as though explaining the obvious to someone who really should have figured it out already.

    "Let me spell it out for you: there are... pests. Unwanted little bugs buzzing around, keeping tabs on me. They can''t hear us here, but they''ll follow us to the pergola, no doubt about it. And then, my dear detective, they''ll come to silence the both of us after I spill the beans."

    Felix raised an eyebrow, considering her words. He paused for a moment, his expression unreadable, before finally responding with a simple, "I see..."

    It wasn''t much, but it was enough to say, "Oh, this is going to be fun, isn''t it?"

 Chapter 181 - 181: I Asked for Answers, I Got Sophisticated Instead

    Drip... drip... drip

    The faint echo of water droplets hitting a puddle tugged Flora out of her daze. Slowly, her consciousness clawed its way back, like a grumpy cat forced out of its nap. Her mind, still foggy, took a moment to piece together her surroundings¡ª or rather, the utter lack of them. Pitch darkness enveloped her like a bad metaphor, and that could mean only one thing: Vampire territory.

    The realization jolted her brain awake faster than someone accidentally gulping a scalding cup of tea. Vampire territory. Of all the places to end up after getting knocked out, it had to be Vampire territory.

    She cursed her luck and whoever had decided that "darkness = spooky, spooky = Vampires." Couldn''t it have been a nice kind of darkness for once? Like the comforting dimness of a cozy bedroom? No? Fine.

    Her logical side immediately made itself known with a loud and clear suggestion: Do absolutely nothing. Yes, logic had a point. She''d read enough adventure novels and watched enough plays to know that Rule No. 1 of being kidnapped was: Don''t draw attention to yourself. Rule No. 2 was: Don''t monologue your escape plans aloud, and Rule No. 3 was: Try not to antagonize the kidnapper unless sarcasm is your love language.

    So, Flora sat there, staying as quiet as possible, though her brain had decided it was time for a mental caffeine overdose. Her thoughts were racing faster than a caffeinated squirrel trying to outrun its predators. Meanwhile, her heart seemed to have joined an underground rave, pounding away at record-breaking speeds.

    ''Alright, Flora, focus,'' she told herself, which was easier said than done given her current state of mild panic.

    Let''s assess the situation. I''ve been abducted¡ª obviously. My head hurts like I lost a fight with a brick wall. The throbbing pain is keeping time with my heartbeat, which is infuriating, by the way. And it''s pitch black in here. Vampires like the dark. Conclusion? I''m in Vampire territory.

    She paused, her thoughts briefly derailing into melodramatic territory. Great. I''m going to die here. Maybe they''ll drink my blood. Or turn me into one of them. Or worse... make me keep in the dark for days to come, literally.

    Her spiraling thoughts came to a screeching halt as a memory resurfaced: the voice she''d heard just before she blacked out. It was deep, smooth, and annoyingly dramatic, like the voice of someone who took themselves way too seriously. "Ah, the Light Blessed, would you be as kind to traverse with me?" S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Traverse? Traverse?! Who says traverse? She groaned internally. This guy had clearly been spending too much time in libraries, thumbing through the thesaurus. What next? Would he describe her as "a maiden of luminous countenance"?1

    Before she could contemplate further, a sudden light flooded the room, the light seemed to seep power out of her instead of giving.

    Flora squinted, temporarily blinded, as her eyes adjusted. The room wasn''t exactly the grand Vampire lair she''d imagined. It was... underwhelming. Four plain black walls, a single door, and two chairs. No fancy candelabras, no creepy chandeliers, no coffins. Honestly, she felt a bit cheated.

    The only notable thing in the room was her situation: tied to one of the two chairs with what looked like an impossibly sturdy black chain. Across from her sat a man¡ª presumably her kidnapper. He had black hair, piercing dark eyes, and sharp features that practically screamed, I''m broody, and I want everyone to know it.

    But it wasn''t his appearance that annoyed her. Oh no. It was his voice. His incredibly deep, overly dramatic voice that sounded like it had been stolen from the gods of overacting. If he auditioned for the theater role of a hero called Batman, they''d cast him on the spot, no experience required.

    "Awake, are we?" the man said, his voice seeping with an infuriating combination of conceit and theatrics.

    Flora narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

    "Who?" he repeated, tilting his head like he was pondering the mysteries of the universe. "Who is but the form following the function of what. And what I am is a mysterious abductor... if I do say so myself."1

    She blinked at him. Twice. "¡­Are you serious right now?"

    "Deadly serious," he replied, leaning back in his chair as if he''d just dropped the most profound statement of the century.

    Flora sighed, feeling the patience drain out of her faster than water through a sieve. "Alright, fine. Let me change the question since you did not understand me, What''s your name?"

    "Obviously, you can ask that," he said, completely misinterpreting her tone. "I was not questioning your power of observation. I am merely remarking on the contradiction of asking a mysterious abductor for his identity."

    Her brain stalled for a moment. "...I literally have no idea what you just said."

    "Leon," he said, finally relenting. "Captain of the First Hunting Team. Vampire general. The right fang of the Progenitor. The title list goes on, but I digress¡ª "

    "Please stop," Flora interjected, her voice strained. She tried to wave her hand dismissively, only to be reminded that it was inconveniently tied behind her back. "Just... stop talking. Your voice is giving me a headache."

    Leon frowned, clearly offended. "Why do you ask me to stop when you were the one demanding answers?"

    "Because listening to you is like wading through a swamp made of pretentiousness," she snapped. "Why am I here? And keep it short, I''m begging you."

    Leon''s frown deepened, but he complied. "You''ll know when the time comes."

    Flora groaned. "Of course. Cryptic. My favorite."

    "However," Leon added, "since you''re so curious, I can at least tell you what it means to be the Light Blessed."

    Flora perked up slightly. "Finally, some answers."

    Leon leaned forward, his expression annoyingly serious. "The Light Blessed? Who is that but the embodiment of divinity bestowed upon mortal form? And what they are¡ª ah, now that is the essence of one carrying the sacred power of Veritas himself. Divine power, so to speak."

    Flora stared at him, deadpan. "You know, you could''ve just said, ''You''ve got divine power,'' right?"

    Leon smirked, clearly amused by her exasperation. "Where''s the explanation in that?"

    "This is exhausting," Flora muttered, slumping in her chair.

    Countenance means facial expressions, which here translates to radiant or ethereal face.

    Reference from ''V for Vendetta''

 Chapter 182 - 182: The Romantic Tale of Why Mom Banned Adventures at Age Four

    "Alright, Grandpa," Judge said, plopping onto the couch like a sack of potatoes, his legs swinging in the air. "You promised! Spill it!"

    "Patience, my boy," Gereon said, sipping his tea with the kind of exaggerated slowness that screamed I''m going to make you wait just because I can. "A tale like this deserves a proper setup. Let''s see¡­where do we begin?" He stroked his beard dramatically. "Ah, yes¡ª your mother, Eleyn. Back in her younger days, she was...well, how do I put this delicately?"

    "Terrifying?" Judge guessed, smirking.

    Gereon chuckled darkly. "Oh, she was scary alright, but in a different way. You see, back then, Eleyn was just a hot-headed, overconfident young lady who thought she could conquer the world. She didn''t walk; she marched. And she had this idea in her head that nothing¡ª not storms, beasts, or the laws of gravity¡ª could stop her. But then..." He trailed off, deliberately dramatic, leaning closer.

    "Then?" Judge mirrored his grandfather, eyes wide.

    "Then along came your father."

    Judge blinked. "Dad? How does he fit into this?"

    "Ah, Alex Drakonis. The great charmer. The man could smooth-talk a charging bull into giving him a ride. When he and your mother met, they were both out gaining ''experience''¡ª you know, that delightful little Drakonis tradition where we toss you kids into the wild and hope you don''t get eaten."

    "Yeah... right. And Mom went through it huh?"

    "Well, yes¡ª both your mother and your father coincidentally met while adventuring out accompanied by the guards." Gereon leaned back, "Your mother hated your father''s guts from the moment they met. Why? Because he was too good at everything. He had this infuriating way of being nice to everyone, looking flawless, and¡ª get this¡ª never tripping over anything. Ever. Meanwhile, your mother was over here knocking over chairs and losing arguments with her own hairbrush."

    Judge snorted. "That sounds like Mom, but I feel strange not hearing the word ''gold'' when it''s about mom."

    "Oh, but it gets better," Gereon said, grinning. "Enter Seraphis."

    "Master Seraphis?" Judge asked, blinking in surprise.

    "The very same," Gereon confirmed. "Back then, Seraphis was a loner. She barely spoke to anyone, but for some inexplicable reason, she and Alex clicked. Maybe it was because they both had that calm, mysterious thing going on. Anyway, they started spending a lot of time together, and your mother? She. Lost. Her. Mind."

    Judge''s eyes widened. "What did she do?" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Oh, Judge," Gereon said, shaking his head with a grin that screamed you''re not ready for this. "She did everything. First, she decided she needed to prove she was better than Seraphis at something¡ª anything. So she started challenging Alex to random competitions. Sparring matches? She demanded them. And you know what your father did?"

    "What?" Judge asked, already giggling.

    "He let her win every single time," Gereon said, smirking. "But not in a way that made her feel good about it. No, no, he''d clap after every match and say stuff like, ''Wow, Eleyn, you''re so strong! I didn''t stand a chance!'' And she hated it. ''Fight me seriously!'' she''d yell, and Alex would just smile and go, ''But you''re already amazing.''"

    Judge was laughing so hard he had to hold his sides. "He didn''t!"

    "Oh, he did," Gereon said, grinning. "And the more he acted like her personal cheerleader, the angrier she got. But that''s just the appetizer. Let''s move on to the main course: the lute incident."

    "The lute incident?" Judge repeated, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

    "Oh, this one''s a classic," Gereon said, leaning in conspiratorially. "So your mother overhears Alex saying he admires people who can play instruments. And instead of, you know, practicing first, she decides to wing it. She grabs a lute and marches up to him like she''s the next big thing in music. And then¡ª oh, Judge¡ª then she starts playing."

    Judge covered his mouth, already giggling. "How bad was it?"

    "Bad?" Gereon said, raising an eyebrow. "Judge, I was there, it sounded like someone strangling a chicken while stepping on a bag of cats. Dogs three villages over started howling. Seraphis looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of secondhand embarrassment. But Alex? Oh, Alex clapped like she''d just performed a masterpiece and said, ''You have such a unique style, Elly.''"

    Judge practically fell off the couch laughing. "What did Mom do?!"

    "She turned so red she looked like a boiled lobster, threw the lute into the nearest bush, and ran off like her dress was on fire," Gereon said, laughing.

    "Poor Mom!" Judge wheezed, tears streaming down his face.

    "Oh, we''re not done yet," Gereon said, holding up a finger. "Let''s talk about her cooking. Now, you''d think after the lute debacle, she''d take a break from trying to impress him. But no. She decides to cook him a meal. And not just any meal¡ª a ''signature dish.''"

    Judge gasped. "Mom cooked?!"

    "She tried to," Gereon said, shaking his head. "She made this...thing. I don''t even know what it was supposed to be. A pie? A stew? An alchemical experiment? All I know is that it was purple, it jiggled, and it smelled like burned sewer. Alex, bless his soul, ate every bite without flinching and said, ''You''re so creative, Elly.''"

    Judge was rolling on the couch, howling with laughter. "Did she give up after that?"

    "Oh, no," Gereon said, smirking. "The grand finale was the eagle incident. Seraphis had this little fluffy bird she adored, right? So your mother decides she''s going to outdo her. And what does she do? She catches a wild eagle. A full-grown, angry eagle. She drags it to Alex like, ''Here, this is for you!''"

    "No!" Judge gasped, clutching his sides.

    "Yes!" Gereon said, laughing. "And the eagle, naturally, loses its mind. It screeches, flaps its wings, and starts attacking everything in sight. Alex had to wrestle it into submission while your mother just stood there, trying to look proud. And when it was all over, Alex patted the eagle on the head, smiled at your mother, and said, ''You''re one of a kind, Elly.''"

    Judge was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "Did Dad actually like her, or was he just messing with her?"

    "Oh, he liked her, all right," Gereon said, his smile softening. "He thought she was hilarious and brave and completely unlike anyone he''d ever met. And eventually, he told her so. But your mother never forgot how ridiculous she''d been, and that''s why she''s so strict about you kids staying home. She doesn''t want any of you turning into lovesick disasters like she was."

    Judge wiped his eyes, still giggling. "Don''t worry, Grandpa. I''ll leave the eagles alone."

    "Good lad," Gereon said, picking up his tea. "Now off to bed. And if you hear your mother humming with a lute in the middle of the night, lock your door."

 Chapter 183 - 183: Flora Learns That Curiosity Might Actually Kill the Captive

    "From what I can discern through my rather meticulous observation," Leon began, his voice dripping with the air of someone utterly convinced of their intellectual superiority, "you seem to possess the innate qualities required for a person capable of profound contemplation."

    Flora, who was valiantly trying not to roll her eyes, wore the unmistakable expression of someone caught in an overly long lecture. Her hair was a mess, her face pale from exhaustion, and she looked like a frazzled cat that had just been yanked out of a storm.

    "Yet," Leon continued, gesturing dramatically like he was delivering a soliloquy1 on stage, "you appear to have become ensnared by your own quixotic tendencies, chasing ideals that are¡ªhow shall I put it?¡ªunrealistically lofty."

    Meanwhile, Flora''s mind was elsewhere. She was knee-deep in one of her usual existential spirals: "What even happens when someone dies? Do they float off into the ether? And if life has meaning, then why do cookies have calories?!" But rather than vocalizing these deep thoughts, she cleared her throat and tried to match Leon''s unnecessarily grandiose manner of speech.

    "Could you, perhaps, ameliorate your Byzantine exposition into something more splendidly ephemeral?" she asked with as much composure as she could muster. It was her clumsy attempt at saying, "Can you, like, stop being so fancy and just get to the point?"

    Leon raised a brow, clearly amused. "Ah, young lady, I find myself at a crossroads¡ªunable to decide if you are brilliantly naive or naively brilliant. Perhaps you are both, though I daresay the former outweighs the latter."

    Flora frowned, not appreciating the thinly veiled insult. "I''d rather be naive, thank you very much. At least it means I''m normal," she shot back. "Unlike you, who insists on giving every sentence a coat of gold just to make a simple point."

    Leon sighed, the kind of sigh reserved for a teacher dealing with an unruly student. "Do watch your tongue, girl," he said, his voice suddenly tinged with a sharpness that sent a chill through the air. "I will not repeat myself again. You are a captive, and while I am many things, generous is not one of them."

    The shift in tone worked¡ªFlora immediately clammed up, though she couldn''t help but think, Well, you don''t sound particularly generous, but you sure are generous with your words.

    Leon leaned back, glancing toward the heavy wooden door. "The lord is not yet here," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

    Flora, unable to suppress her curiosity, tentatively asked, "Who... who is the lord? May I know?" She had a vague idea of what he might mean. The vampire race had two ruling families¡ªthe secretive Ashdowns and the far more infamous Ravensworths. But which one of them was this ''lord''?

    Leon turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable. "Do you perceive me as some mere tool of communication," he said slowly, "an instrument through which you may glean answers to every curiosity that plagues your mind? Am I to be your personal archive of information?"

    "You don''t have to answer," Flora replied, choosing her words carefully, "but since you brought me here, I assume you have a purpose. If you share that purpose, I might be less... opposed to cooperating." She shrugged casually, as if she weren''t currently in captivity.

    Leon studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. The lord refers to one of the progenitors¡ªrulers of our kind. As for your presence here, you have been summoned to aid us in lifting the curse of light that has plagued our race for the last two millenium."

    Flora''s heart sank. She sat in stunned silence, staring at the ground. The curse of light. The bane of vampire existence. She knew what it meant, a legend as old as the race itself. And now, somehow, she was the one being roped into solving it? Why me? Why now? They were cursed by Lord Vanitas for two thousand years, why a sudden rush to change it?

    Her racing thoughts were abruptly interrupted by another voice, young yet impossibly commanding. "Well, that was certainly... enlightening."

    Flora froze. She didn''t need to look up to know that whoever had just spoken was powerful¡ªterrifyingly powerful. The sheer presence of the newcomer felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

    Leon''s demeanor shifted immediately. He straightened, his usual arrogance replaced with cautious respect. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice carefully measured.

    The newcomer didn''t answer right away. Instead, Flora felt herself being lifted off the ground¡ªnot roughly, but with almost gentle accuracy, as if invisible ether hands were moving her. A moment later, she was placed down again.

    "Open your eyes," the voice commanded, firm yet oddly soothing.

    Flora hesitated but obeyed. What she saw made her gasp. Gone was the dim, oppressive room. She now found herself in a vast meadow, surrounded by rolling green hills blanketed in delicate white flowers. The sky was a radiant blue, and the sunlight bathed everything in a warm, golden glow.

    The scent of wildflowers and fresh grass filled the air, mingling with the faintest hint of a nearby stream. It was unlike anything Flora had ever experienced, having spent most of her life confined to a crowded city. This place felt like... like something out of a dream. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?" the voice said, now closer, softer.

    Flora turned her head to see a young figure standing beside her, the man had a plain white mask with a smiley face on his face, but it felt as if it was a part of his skin, she couldn''t;t tell where the mask ended. He also wore a black three-piece suit with brown leather gloves.

    "Is this... real?" she finally whispered. "Or am I dead? Because honestly, this looks like the kind of place people dream of finding in the afterlife."

    The figure chuckled lightly. "No... Miss¡ªuhh... Flora. You''re very much alive. But this is merely a glimpse of what awaits you¡ªif you can find the strength to face what''s ahead."

    Flora groaned inwardly. Great. More cryptic destiny talk. She sighed and flopped onto the soft grass, muttering under her breath, "Can I just... enjoy the view for five minutes before the motivational speeches start?"

    monologue

 Chapter 184 - 184: Join the Recorders, They Said. Itâ€™ll Be Fun, They Said.

    "Haha, you obviously can," the man chuckled, his voice carrying a slightly condescending warmth. "You are not here as a captive. If you were, you''d be in chains or... maybe in a much less scenic spot. Captors don''t usually offer flower fields, you know."

    Flora turned to the flower field, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant colors as though trying to memorize every petal. The soft hum of bees and the occasional rustle of the wind made her feel like she was in a dream¡ª or maybe a very well-funded art exhibit. She sighed contentedly. "If this is captivity, I need to send my enemies thank-you cards."

    "I know I''m late to ask," Flora continued, squinting at a patch of particularly radiant flowers, "but... who are you? And why are you so ominous? That mask isn''t exactly screaming ''friendly neighborhood helper.''"

    The man adjusted the mask, the sun glinting off its polished surface. "Oh, apologies. My name is Gabriel. Gabriel, virtue of chastity, if you want the full effect. And, well, the mask stays on. It''s a rule. Dramatic mystique is part of the job description."

    Flora plucked a white flower, giving it a sniff before twirling it between her fingers. "Gabriel, huh? Sounds strangely holy. Did you swoop down from the heavens to pluck me from the jaws of doom?"

    Gabriel shrugged. "Something like that. Though, I do less swooping these days¡ª bad for the knees. As for getting you out¡­ let''s just say I''m blessed by my lord." With a practiced gesture, he extended his hand, and a stunning ice flower bloomed in his palm, glittering like it had stolen a piece of the moonlight. "Would you like to take revenge on the vampires?"

    Flora stared at the flower, a mix of awe and suspicion crossing her face. It looked beautiful¡ª too beautiful. Like it might explode if she so much as blinked wrong. She hesitated. "Why would I?"

    Gabriel froze. For a moment, his confident aura faltered, and he blinked behind the mask as though he''d been slapped with a fish. But his tone didn''t change. "Uh¡­ because they attacked your home? Killed your people? You know, the usual revenge triggers?"

    Flora carefully took the ice flower, holding it as though it might start reciting poetry at any moment. "Yes, they did. But does that make them evil?"

    Gabriel tilted his head, genuinely baffled. "I mean¡­ yeah? Pretty straightforward definition of ''evil'' there." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Flora turned the flower over in her hands, her tone thoughtful. "Is it, though? What even is evil? If killing makes someone evil, then what about those who kill to protect their families? Are they evil too?"

    Gabriel scratched the back of his head. "Well, uh¡­ I mean, the reason for killing probably matters. You know, like¡­ context?"

    Flora nodded sagely, as though she''d been waiting for this moment. "Exactly. So, if context matters, then what about us? Haven''t we killed vampires just because we think our ideals are better? How is that different?"

    Gabriel paused, visibly trying to juggle her words in his mind like they were oddly shaped puzzle pieces. "...You''re very good at making this complicated."

    Flora smirked, the corners of her lips quirking mischievously. "I prefer the term ''thought-provoking.'' What do you think is truly evil, Gabriel?"

    He sighed, sitting down cross-legged on the grass like a man who realized he''d just walked into a debate he wasn''t equipped for. "All right, I''ll bite. What is truly evil, Flora?"

    Flora leaned back, gazing at the sky like a philosopher about to drop a life-altering truth bomb. "Nobody does anything thinking they''re pure evil. Everyone justifies their actions. And that justification, that reason they create to make their actions okay¡ª that''s the root of evil. Evil isn''t in the act; it''s in the excuse."

    Gabriel clapped slowly, his tone dripping with sarcastic admiration. "Wow. That''s deep. I feel like I should be writing this down."

    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, by your definition, evil is¡­ bad excuses? Like, someone saying, ''I burned down the bakery because I don''t like croissants''¡ª that''s evil?"

    Flora chuckled. "Exactly. Burning the bakery because it''s a front for vampire smugglers? Maybe less evil. Depends on how you justify it."

    Gabriel tilted his head, staring at her like she''d just handed him a recipe for philosophical chaos. "You know, you''ve really got a knack for making me question my entire worldview. How do you even sleep at night with all this existentialism bouncing around in your head?"

    Flora smiled wistfully. "I don''t. That''s why I spend so much time staring at flowers. And a little context for you, it is actually never night back at the city¡ª so we usually sleep according to our schedule. And that makes life so uncomplicated, trust me."

    "Uncomplicated, huh?" Gabriel said, picking a daisy and twirling it dramatically. "So, what if I told you our cause¡ª joining the Recorders¡ª is also simple? We don''t justify violence. We record history, Flora. We keep it honest. No excuses, no bias. Just the truth. Isn''t that exactly the opposite of the evil you just described?"

    Flora raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. "...I¡­ suppose that does sound¡­ less evil."

    Gabriel leaned in, sensing victory. "And by recording the truth, you could stop others from justifying their actions with lies. You could hold people accountable. Isn''t that what someone who hates excuses would want?"

    Flora opened her mouth, then closed it, her brain visibly spinning its wheels. "I¡­ Well¡­ That''s¡­"

    "Exactly," Gabriel said smugly, tossing the daisy over his shoulder. "Welcome to the Recorders, Flora. Your first assignment: debating a vampire about the moral complexity of stealing chandeliers. You''ll fit right in."

    Flora groaned, realizing she''d been completely outmaneuvered. "You''re insufferable, Gabriel."

    "And yet," he said, standing and offering her a hand, "here you are, joining my insufferable cause. You''re welcome."

    "Can I create ice flowers if I do?" A smile crept up her lips.

    "Of course you can," He created another flower, this one more thin and delicate. "As a matter of fact, the power to create ice is not mine, I borrowed it from a friend with my... our lord''s grace. You too can share and receive powers."

    "I guess I shall give it a try then, I do like to travel the world, and power means not being weak in the night." She took the flowers, but they quickly broke. Leaving her with crumbles of ice.

    "Then," Gabriel produced a mask, "This is for you."

    "... Thanks? What is this?" Flora took the mask, the signature plain white mask of the recorders with a smiley face.

    "You will be known as Uriel, the virtue of temperance." He said as soon as she took the mask, "Of course, that is only while you are wearing that mask, you still could go on about in your daily life."

    "That is strangely unconvincing," Flora laughed dryly, "But I guess it is too late to turn back." Flora put on the mask.

    Gabriel did not name her randomly, the observer, Judge, was watching. He told Gabriel to do so telepathically since the use of scriptwriter was not possible in the scenario.

    Gabriel won''t name her on his own accord, and scriptwriter would only work if the script somehow aligns with the person''c behaviour.

 Chapter 185 - 185: When nostaligia strikes like a bad dream

    Min Jae found himself seated on a weathered wooden bench beneath the dim glow of a street lamp. His breath curled into the cold night air, dissipating in soft puffs. The silence of the night was calm yet unnerving.

    Beside him, Seo Jun leaned back, his gaze fixed on the vast, empty expanse above in the skies and beyond the stars.1

    "You know, Min," he murmured, his voice was low, just enough for Min to hear him, "I never cared about money the way others did when I was younger. I didn''t dream of wealth or status. I just wanted enough¡ª enough to eat, enough so my mom wouldn''t have to work herself into the ground. That was all."

    Min remained silent, allowing Jun the room to unravel his thoughts. It was rare for him to speak of his past, and when he did, it was as though he were offering fragments of himself, seeking to be understood without the burden of judgment.

    "My mom was a single parent," Jun continued, his tone growing softer, almost reminiscent.

    "She worked tirelessly, more than anyone I''ve ever known. We scraped by, always on the edge of having too little. She sacrificed so much, more than I comprehended at the time¡ª skipping meals so I could eat, pretending she wasn''t hungry when I could hear her stomach growling. We never had the luxury of dining out like other families, but I never complained. Still, there was one place I always longed to return to. A small restaurant my dad took us to before he¡­ before he was gone."

    A breath escaped him, slow and weary, as if attempting to toughen the emotion creeping into his voice. "I used to walk past that place every day, staring through the window, inhaling the scents that spilled into the street. I''d imagine what it would be like to sit inside again, just once. But I never asked. My mom never mentioned it either, but I knew¡ª she remembered."

    Min looked to the distance. "And then?" he asked with the words minimum and his voice as low as possible. The purpose was to let Jun know he was listening.

    A nostalgic smile crept across Jun''s lips. "Then I got my first paycheck. It wasn''t much¡ª just from a part-time job¡ª but it felt like I had the world in my hands. I wanted to do something for her, to give back in some small way. So, instead of telling her, I slipped the envelope under her pillow, thinking she''d be surprised." Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Min puffed a quiet laugh. "Let me guess¡ª she found it immediately?"

    Jun''s grin widened. "Not only that. The first thing she did was call me and say, '' Jun, I found some money under the bed! Do you know whose it is?''" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I told her it wasn''t mine, and she just laughed. Then she said, ''Come home quickly.'' I didn''t know what she was planning, but when I got back, she was waiting at the door, dressed up. She took me straight to that restaurant."

    Min could picture it¡ª mother and son, stepping into a place imbued with memories, their joy outshining the worth of any currency.

    "She spent that money on you," Min murmured.

    "Yeah." Jun''s expression softened. "She found money, and the first thing she thought of was me. That day¡­ that was the happiest I''d ever been. For the first time, I felt like I had given her something meaningful. Now I always wonder why that small paycheck made me cry from happiness but all these giant gains always feel like a burden."

    Min smiled, "Looks like you already know why."

    "Yeah... " His smile wavered, replaced by a gloom of regret. "After seeing her smile like that in ages¡­ I lost sight of that feeling. I convinced myself that I needed more. That if I worked hard enough, and earned enough, I could give her everything she deserved. So I kept running after money, chasing it without stopping to think. I told myself I was doing it for her. And before I even realized it¡­ she was gone¡ª gone, I never stopped once to see whether she wanted me to stop, even though I always knew she did."

    The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Min saw the way Jun''s hands curled into fists, the weight of his words pressing down on him like a force he could not escape.

    "Why did I run so hard? What was I even chasing?" Jun exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "In the end, I learned something. Money is indeed¡ª the root of all evil. It makes you chase it, always wanting more, until you lose everything."

    Min scoffed, the sound breaking through the gravity of the moment. "That''s where you''re wrong, Seo. You see, if money was truly the root of evil, why did it make you happy? Why did it make your mother smile?"

    Jun frowned slightly, caught off guard by the question.

    "Money was never the issue," Min continued, leaning forward. "It was just the justification. People do terrible things and blame it on money, power, on ambition. But the real problem? It''s in the choices we make, the excuses we cling to. Justifications¡ª those are the true root of all evil."

    A slow grin tugged at his lips. "So stop blaming money and admit it¡ª you were just a greedy idiot."

    For a moment, Jun stared at him. Then, laughter erupted from his chest¡ª genuine, unrestrained, breaking through the gloom like a willful music. It was a sound Min hadn''t heard in a long time, and he let it settle between them, warm against the cold night.

    The dream began to shift, the mist creeping back in, swallowing the scene. Jun''s laughter echoed, distant now, a fading imprint on Min''s mind.

    Then, suddenly¡ª

    Judge awoke.

    His breath was steady, but the remnants of the dream lingered, heavy on his chest. Min''s words, his previous life''s words, replayed in his mind.

    Justifications¡ª the true root of all evil. Flora Venthart shared something similar to Gabriel when he was recruiting her¡ª maybe that was what triggered this dream.

    Min Jae- Previous Judge, Seo Jun- His friend.

 Chapter 186 - 186: Step one of anger management â€” Dont

    Lucifer now really wanted to smoke, but alas he was on a mission. He was watching Isadora with his mask on and recording. The assassins could not sense him, but he knew where each one was ¡ª but there could always be more.

    He could always surprise the assassins, but if there were other assassins only to observe from the distance, his master''s plans would need a redrafting, and he was not here to fail his master.

    The current plan was to wait and oversee Isadora''s fight, getting anyone who acts suspicious at a distance, if all goes well ¡ª Lucifer will once again approach Victor in order to completely eradicate the assassin gathering with the help of the legal authorities through Detective Hawke. But if it doesn''t, then getting through the organization would be even more of a pain since they would now be alerted against Lucifer''s organization as well as the authorities.

    Isadora led Felix inside the garden pergola, the place was surrounded by a beautifully crafted garden and a low iron fence near the cobblestone paths of the garden.

    Lucifer kept an eye out for the assassins'' movements, and Felix, now aware of the fact that she was actually targeting the assassins ¡ª decided to keep his guard up, he became less talkative and more alert to surroundings like a seasoned detective in mission. (Without "Oh that is a clue" talks of course)

    "Detective," She began as both sat down.

    Felix leaned in, still alert "Yes?"

    "Promise me that you will lend me a helping hand after I tell you what I have to do," She stared at his eyes intensely. "I promise that it is legal and in fact, would help you out more than it would me as mine is just about revenge."

    It did not take long for the detective to piece together what she was hinting at, it must be about destroying the assassin organization that her husband was working in. "Very well, if it is something I can handle given the situations ¡ª then yes."

    "Thank you," She looked at the skies and at him again, "Then as you''ve deducted, my husband was an assassin..."

    As soon as she uttered those words, the leaves in the garden rustled as five assassins emerged from within, she could still sense quite a few in hiding.

    "We trusted you, Isadora," One of the assassins spoke, "How could you betray your husband?"

    "Oh? Is this how you treat people you trust perhaps," Isadora did not get up, "By keeping watch?"

    "Uh oh," The detective got up, "I don''t even have a weapon, this could get dangerous." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    "Aren''t detectives supposed to be good at preparing?" Isadora slowly got up. "Or did you not expect fewer assassins after seeing my confidence."

    Felix smiled, "You put me at ease, Madam Rivet." He calmed down after seeing Isadora''s demeanor.

    "As you should," Isadora smiled and brought her hand toward her face, a plain white mask with a smiley face appeared in her hand. "I will take care of this."

    Lucifer sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The moment Isadora reached for the mask, he knew¡ªhe just knew¡ªthat things were about to get unnecessarily dramatic. Not that he minded bloodshed, but he had seen this before. The moment that mask was on, it was as if a switch had been flipped. And, oh, how it flipped.

    As soon as the plain white mask with its unsettlingly cheerful smile settled over her face, Isadora went from ''elegant and composed widow'' to ''feral whirlwind of death.'' Her eyes settled in the color of purple, but with a blue hint.

    The assassins barely had time to process the transformation before she was upon them. One unfortunate soul found himself introduced to a particularly pointy piece of wrought iron fencing, courtesy of Isadora''s newfound inhuman strength ripping apart the hand railing.

    Another tried to back away, only for her to grab him by the throat and yeet him through the pergola like an unwanted casserole at a family dinner. He did not survive the landing.

    Luckily Detective Felix had a good experience at dodging, or he would not have survived either. He looked at Isadora, astonished by her transformation from a calm and composed widow to a beast that wrought destruction.

    Isadora extended her hand and a sword of ice materialized slowly, first water, then the ice thickened over before turning entirely white, and the cold mist flowed out from it.

    One particularly ambitious assassin, perhaps thinking himself clever, attempted to leap from a tree and take her by surprise. Isadora caught him midair. Midair. The man let out a single, startled "urk" before she drove the sword through his throat.

    There were still about fifteen left after the six dead, that was all of them as they all came out after seeing her kill the first one. They all were stationed to take care of her in case she went berserk.

    Lucifer, watching from his concealed position, exhaled slowly. "And there it is," he muttered. He sensed (his wind sensed) two people quickly trying to escape as they saw the scene from two different ends of the Rivet estate.

    He still marveled at the power of the mask gifted by his lord. It could share anything between the subordinates, even a part of the lord''s strength.

    It was one of the reasons he was so eager to recruit more members, to bring others under the influence of the mask''s shared vitality, stamina, and power. He had concluded that he could bring enough members, strong members, until all the seats were filled.

    He had taught Isadora how to use it, ensuring that she wouldn''t just put it on blindly but would instead become something far greater ¡ª a controlled force of destruction, rather than a reckless berserker. And judging by the carnage unfolding before him, his teachings had paid off.

    "Who are you really?" Felix asked the question that the assassins could not since they were busy trying to stay alive, but there was not much progress as she bashed another one''s head against the cobblestone, bursting his head open and spraying the brain matter all over before they froze.

    Isadora straightened herself and looked at Felix, "I am a recorder, Mon cher."1

    My dea

 Chapter 187 - 187: Lucifers take on modern art

    Lucifer did his quiet duty of ensuring none of the assassins had a chance to escape or warn their allies. He borrowed Gabriel''s principle and created two portals toward the escapees and squashed their legs like an overly ripe tomato.

    Lucifer first materialized beside one and casually stomped on his head like he was extinguishing a cigarette. The second unfortunate soul barely got a breath out before Lucifer''s blade turned him into something resembling an abstract painting, with red being the major color ¡ª man, that looked extremely similar to "modern art".1

    "Red really is the dominant color this season." He muttered to himself. "Maybe I missed my calling as an abstract artist."

    He returned to where Isadora was fighting just as she froze another man''s thin straight sword and completely crumbled the wooden handle. "Time to get a well-earned cigarette," he lit one and leaned against a tree, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he watched the chaos unfold.

    He''d done his part ¡ª no escapees, no witnesses, just a couple of abstract art pieces splattered across the grass. Now it was Isadora''s turn. He exhaled a plume of smoke and muttered, "Let''s see what you''ve got, Barachiel."

    The assassins, seeing as they couldn''t do any more surprises, had surrounded her. They did not strike first, instead, they observed her movements. Isadora was even more composed ¡ª her eyes darted to every assassin in front of her, and she tried to sense any movements from behind her.

    Surprisingly, she did not get attacked from the back, the assassins weren''t idiots. They were professionals, cold and calculating, and they moved like they''d been doing this their whole lives. Which, honestly, they probably had.

    A chain whip cracked through the air first, its metallic hiss cutting through the silence of inactivity. Isadora dodged, but the whip grazed her arm, leaving a thin line of blood that dripped onto the cobblestones.

    Before she could recover, a stick with an ether hammer at the end was on her, the guy with the hammer weapon swinging in a brutal arc aimed at her ribs. She raised her sword, deflecting the blow, but the impact sent her skidding backward, her boots scraping against the ground, a new layer of ice forming in her trail ¡ª she still could not control the ethercraft, and she had to do this before the mask''s power run out.

    The assassins didn''t let up. A dagger-wielder darted in from her blind spot, his blade aimed at her kidney. Isadora twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the movement left her open. The spear user took advantage, thrusting his weapon at her chest. She parried with her sword, the clash of ice against steel ringing through the garden, but the force of the attack knocked her off balance. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Isadora gritted her teeth. These weren''t amateurs. They were good¡ªtoo good. She couldn''t afford to hold back.

    The chain whip came at her again, this time aiming for her legs. Isadora leapt into the air, the whip snapping harmlessly beneath her. As she landed, she swung her sword in a wide arc, sending a wave of icy shards toward the assassins.

    The whip user dodged, but the hammer-wielder wasn''t fast enough. The shards tore through his light armor, embedding themselves in his chest. He staggered, blood dripping from his wounds, but he didn''t fall. Instead, he roared and charged at her again, dragging his hammer across the ground

    "How the hell are you an assassin?" She couldn''t help but ask. His fighting style was too berserk to be a quiet and stealthy one.

    Isadora created another ice crystal in her hand, "Lucifer!" She screamed as she drove the ice toward the hammer guy even though there was a good distance between them.

    Lucifer smiled as he let out another puff, a small portal appeared as Isadora ran the icicle through it. The other end of the portal was just before the throat of the hammer guy. She drove her ice spike into the man''s throat. He fell to his knees, spitting blood and his eyes wide with shock, before collapsing to the ground.

    "Thank you," She said to Lucifer, focusing on the fourteen left. "And I am angry now."

    "Like you weren''t before," Lucifer murmured and smiled at his own joke.

    Isadora let go of her sword, it crumbled just as it hit the ground. The purple eyes truly shined blue now. She could lend anyone''s power if the mask had enough power, divine power so to speak, left.

    But there was a problem, she could not yet use two principles at once. And that was also why the ice sword lost its durability just as it hit the ground, she switched to one of the observer''s principles ¡ª extreme strength.

    The whip lashed again, but it was another guy this time. Isadora caught it with her gloved hand, the glove ripped open and blood started to pour out, but it did not affect her in the slightest.

    She gripped the whip tighter and pulled the man close, he let it go as soon as he understood she was pulling him, but it was too late. Isadora dashed straight toward him with her fists to his face ¡ª smashing his skull open.

    Before the others could regroup, she kicked one sideways in the gut ¡ª splitting his torso apart. She immediately jumped toward two men with fierce eyes, both dodged, but she caught one by his head and threw him against the other guy, taking his sword in the process.

    Their heads crashed against each other, blood spilled out, but they did not die. Isadora spun and threw the sword toward their head, it went through one guy''s forehead and came out through the other guy''s mouth.

    One assassin appeared behind her and swung the sword up, but she darted toward the sword she had just thrown and yanked it off their corpse, spinning the blade in a wide arc and deflecting another strike.

    The man was thrown off balance and was left wide open, she used the opportunity to pierce his chest, but he rolled to the side, barely dodging the strike. But Isadora paused midway and sliced the guy through his armor and chest.

    "Ten," She said calmly as swung the sword, splattering the blood. Her mask stared at her enemies intensely.

    The arts with "Deep meaning" with no actual artistic skills, yeah that''s the one.

 Chapter 188 - 188: Isadoras calmness

    The annoying whip came again, snapping through the air like a serpent striking its prey. Isadora twisted her body at the last moment, narrowly dodging its bite, and reached out to catch the end.

    But just as her fingers closed around it, the woman on the other end released her grip, letting it go without resistance. A cowardly yet strategic move ¡ª she backed down just enough to keep herself safe, leaving her comrades to exploit that brief moment of distraction.

    But Isadora was not about to let her get away with it.

    With a sharp flick of her wrist, she swung the loose whip like a lasso. The handle twisted around the torso of a nearby assassin, jerking him off balance. No time to hesitate. She yanked him forward with brutal force, his body stumbling helplessly toward her.

    She held her sword toward his chest, slicing through it and cleaving over his shoulder, exiting in a gruesome arc of crimson. His corpse barely had time to collapse before she used it as a stepping stone, pushing off from his falling body and launching herself into the air with a burst of momentum.

    The sickening crack of breaking bones echoed through the battlefield as his lifeless form slammed into the ground, blood splattered like a blob of paint was smashed with a solid object. Isadora soared over him, her eyes locked onto her true target ¡ª the annoying woman with the whip.

    Midair, two more assassins rushed to intercept her. Too slow. Isadora twisted her body, slashing in a precise diagonal motion, her blade carving through them both before her feet even touched the ground. One head spun through the air, the other''s chest split open as he crumpled lifelessly. Her landing was barely a pause ¡ª her stride continued toward her prey without faltering.

    Lucifer watched, his lips curling up in mild amusement. Seven attacks had been aimed at her ¡ª four of them fatal. And he had protected her from each one.

    Just as Isadora reached the whip-wielding woman, the assassin pulled a hidden knife, lunging forward with reckless abandon. It was a suicide attack ¡ª she was fully prepared to sacrifice her own life to ensure Isadora''s demise. The blade gleamed with poison, a death sentence in the form of cold steel. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    A noble effort. But Lucifer''s hardened air had already blocked it before it could reach its mark.

    Isadora''s sword did not hesitate. The woman''s head was severed cleanly, rolling away as her body slumped to the ground. Blood gushed like a fountain, staining the cobblestone beneath them.

    The remaining assassins hesitated, but fear did not drive them away. They were trained killers, seasoned in bloodshed. They knew their fate was sealed the moment they decided to take lives for a living, but they would not go down without a fight.

    Six of them charged at once.

    One never even made it to her. Isadora''s sword sailed through the air, piercing straight through his skull before he could react. He collapsed instantly, his body twitching as the others barely flinched. Their focus was ironclad.

    The moment of distraction was still a moment wasted.

    Isadora took it.

    In a blur, she caught two of them. Her fist slammed into one''s gut, driving the breath from his lungs with enough force to lift him off his feet. Her other hand clenched into a brutal fist, crashing down on the second man''s skull. A sickening crunch echoed as it split open like a melon.

    Three left. But they had already regained focus.

    One lunged for her back, another swung from her side, while the last attempted to block her attack head-on.

    It was a solid strategy ¡ª if she were weaker.

    The block was useless against her raw strength. Her blade sliced effortlessly through the defender''s chest, splitting him in two. The one behind her received a vicious kick to the gut, sending him flying backward, skidding against the ground like a ragdoll. The last, the one from the side, barely had time to react before she caught his throat in an iron grip.

    She crushed it like dry parchment. His body spasmed before going limp.

    The last one groaned weakly, rolling his head, barely alive. Isadora didn''t waste time. A swift slash ended him with a clean cut across the neck.

    And just like that, the fight was over.

    Detective Felix had been watching the entire thing, unable to do anything but exhale in sheer disbelief.

    Slowly, cautiously, he approached her.

    "Who¡­ who are you actually?" His voice trembled. Not the best question to ask someone who had just brutally massacred twenty-one skilled assassins as if they were mere practice dummies. But curiosity was a reckless thing.

    "She is called Barachiel."

    Lucifer''s voice cut through the moment. He emerged from the shadows of the nearby tree, his presence almost as unsettling as the slaughter they had just witnessed.

    Felix''s breath hitched. He had been so focused on Isadora ¡ª on Barachiel ¡ª that he hadn''t even noticed Lucifer''s presence the entire time. Not even when she had shouted his name.

    "And she is a new member of our group." Lucifer''s tone was casual, yet the weight behind it was suffocating. "Although I presume you would not be speaking of Isadora being a part of our group."

    "O-of course I-I would¡­ n-not, haha." Felix stuttered through an awkward laugh, his instincts screaming at him to play it safe. "I-I would n-not even speak of your group."

    Observer, Lucifer used telepathy to speak to Judge, What must I do with this man as he knows the identity of Barachiel.

    Lucifer''s stare was unreadable, he took a while to respond. "Our organization does not fear the authorities." His words were slow, deliberate. "But you do not want to know what happens when one of our identities is known to the world."

    Felix swallowed hard. He understood exactly what that meant.

    "I-I will keep that in m-mind."

    He forced himself to remain calm, knowing full well that the wrong move, the wrong word, could be his last. But if there was a way to ensure his own survival, to cover for Isadora without betraying them¡­

    "If it is alright with you, May I know what your organization is called?" His voice was steadier now, but still cautious. "... If I may use that name to cover Isadora."

    Lucifer smiled.

    "We are¡­ the Recorders."

 Chapter 189 - 189: Serious Artifact contemplation

    Lucifer turned to Isadora, flashing a smile so dazzling it could make a chandelier jealous. "A masterful performance, Barachiel." He clapped, though it was more of a polite golf clap ¡ª just enough to acknowledge, not enough to suggest he enjoyed the show. "One worthy of an encore. Although, personally, I prefer a little less... you know¡­ mutilation."

    Isadora wiped a streak of someone else''s blood off her sleeve with all the grace of a refined lady dabbing at a wine stain. "Lucifer, you taught me to fight with that mask on." She took a step toward the pergola, where three out of the original four pillars were still standing, making the whole structure look like a sad game of Jenga. "And coupled with my assassin training, I must say¡­ this is me now."

    Lucifer raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, the way one does when trying to determine if a painting is an abstract masterpiece or just an accident. "Then you must improve. Improvement is what all humans should strive for as they live." He paused dramatically, as if waiting for an imaginary orchestra to play an ominous note. Isadora''s hand had already begun lifting to her mask.

    His voice dropped to a low, warning tone. "Do not remove that mask, Barachiel. Unless you like to offend the lord''s words."

    Isadora froze mid-motion, her fingers hovering over the mask''s edge like a thief about to snatch a priceless jewel. "But why? Detective Felix already knows my identity."

    Lucifer let out the kind of sigh usually reserved for exasperated parents dealing with a child who''s just drawn on the walls again. "The Lord has forgiven you for revealing your identity to an outsider once. Doing it again would not only be an insult to his generosity but a direct challenge to his authority. And, you may not have seen the lord fight, but, he crushes most enemies with just his will. Do trust me, he doesn''t exactly take insults lightly."

    She hesitated, then let her hand drop. "I see. And what of him then?" She gestured vaguely toward Felix, who was watching the exchange with the keen interest of a man who knew he was dangerously close to becoming an ex-detective.

    Lucifer turned his gaze onto Felix, and for a moment, the air itself seemed to shiver with the weight of his judgment. "The Lord has allowed him to live," he said, his tone implying that this was an incredibly limited-time offer. "As long as no intelligent being other than him knows your true identity."

    Felix, ever the survivor, plastered on a smile that was just a little too wide, just a little too enthusiastic. "Of course! No one will." He placed a hand over his heart as if swearing a solemn vow. "I have the memory of a goldfish when it comes to things that could get me killed. Names? Faces? Pfft, gone. Already fading. Who are you again?"

    Lucifer narrowed his eyes.

    Felix''s smile remained fixed, but he slowly lowered his hand. "Too much?" He was just trying to ease his own nervousness, but it came off pathetically.

    Lucifer didn''t answer, just stared in a way that suggested Felix had precisely one get-out-of-murder-free card and had just barely managed to play it.

    ¡ª¡ª¡ª

    Judge sat in his room like a hermit king of dusty antiquities, his throne ¡ª an exquisitely designed wooden chair with golden patterns and dark cushions ¡ª positioned just so in the dim light of nearly-noon. His day, so far, had been devoted entirely to the noble art of studying artifacts.

    And by "studying," we mean he''d been gazing at the new set of relics so ancient and mysterious that even his antique coffee mug looked modern in comparison, in all his years of researching artifacts ¡ª he felt like he had hit a wall. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    He''d posted a bold, perhaps even reprimanding, notice on the door: "Do Not Disturb ¡ª Serious Artifact Contemplation in Progress!" (A message that might have even intimidated a particularly nosy fly.)

    The true reason behind his meticulous artifact analysis was, of course, to prepare for his grand reunion ¡ª another meeting of the recorders. It had been more than a week since the last gathering ¡ª a week so long it felt like the artifacts themselves were starting to dust off and organize their own mini-reunions.

    Judge believed that recorders, like fine wines and even finer conspiracies, improved with time. Yet, as of now, the meeting had not taken place. The delay wasn''t due to laziness or procrastination ¡ª no, Judge was merely waiting for that elusive, magical moment when the universe would conspire to let him conduct his scholarly ritual undisturbed.

    He needed the perfect window ¡ª when the hallway was quieter than a mime convention, when even the creaking floorboards wouldn''t dare make a sound.

    Since he himself had no clue how long his ''story editing and publishing to Clio'' session would last (one can never predict the riveting narrative of an ancient shard or the secret life of a chipped vase), he had to ensure that every trivial matter in the outside world was thoroughly taken care of.

    Priorities, after all, come in a specific order: first, artifacts; then, meetings; and finally, maintaining his fa?ade of normalcy around the other denizens of the building, except maybe Seraphis.

    Earlier, he had even graced the common areas with his presence ¡ª a calculated performance designed to reassure everyone (and perhaps himself) that he was still "normal" and hadn''t been permanently absorbed into the mysterious vortex of ancient relics.

    After this brief social cameo, he retreated back into his sanctum, ostensibly to study artifacts. In truth, it was the perfect pretext to secure his privacy.

    After a sumptuous lunch that he''d prepared with the care of a medieval alchemist mixing potions (okay, maybe it was just a chicken sandwich, but one must savor the moment), Judge was primed and ready to jump headfirst into the studio.

    There, he would finally host the meeting of the recorders ¡ª a gathering so anticipated that even the echoes in the corridor were rumored to be murmuring in excitement. And standing sentinel, as ever, was Solarae, whose duty it was to keep a watchful eye over Judge''s domain. With Solarae on guard, no pesky intruder or overly curious artifact enthusiast could breach his fortress of solitude.

    "Alright," Judge finally stood up, "Keep watch, Sol."