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Chapter 73

  Standing before the battered complex, a structure that looked like it had barely survived a dozen wars, Adira couldn't help but murmur, a flicker of hope in her voice, “Are we sure this is the right address?”

  “Looks like it,” Darius replied with little enthusiasm, barely glancing up.

  Nova turned to Shira. “Call in the commanders of the other five factions,” he said. Then, he bitterly added, “And get a crew to start fixing this place up.”

  Shira gave a silent nod and headed off without a word.

  Nova exhaled, his gaze trailing over the chaos in front of him. Graffiti sprawled across the walls, blood stains marked the pavement, and rubble and grime coated nearly every surface.

  ‘I didn’t think it’d be one sneeze away from collapsing’, he thought with a sigh.

  “Well, the place was free,” he said aloud, trying to inject a sliver of optimism. But the silence that followed was thick.

  “Boss…” Adira started, hesitant.

  Nova turned to her with a grin that was more mischief than joy—a look that clearly said I dare you to finish that sentence.

  Adira closed her mouth with a sigh, defeated. The other generals exchanged glances, then slowly, awkwardly, nodded in agreement with Nova—if only to avoid being on the receiving end of that look.

  “Maybe it looks better on the inside,” Malachi offered, clinging to optimism.

  Nova gave a short nod. “Let’s check it out.” Without hesitation, he stepped through the front doors.

  The others, with hope written all over their facesm followed him in.

  The moment the door creaked open, a wave of stench hit them—an unholy blend of mildew, blood, and something long dead. It was less a smell and more a physical attack on the senses.

  Nova froze mid-step, his expression unreadable save for a subtle twitch in his eye. “I’m going back out to wait for Shira,” he said flatly, though his internal war was written in the slight sway of his stance as he fought to stay upright.

  “I’m following. Alaric can’t be breathing this in while he’s still recovering,” Hector blurted out, already halfway to the door, his face contorted in panic.

  Nox didn’t need an excuse—he turned and bolted, followed closely by Darius, Malachi, and a very pale Adira.

  Outside, the group sucked in deep breaths of slightly-less-awful air, each one of them visibly shaken and fighting back gags.

  Nova turned to face them, coughing into his fist. “Okay… I admit, it’s a little dirty. But once we clean it up?” He gestured vaguely at the crumbling facade behind him. “Prime location.”

  No one replied. They were too busy trying not to throw up.

  Thinking back on all the shady dealings they’d witnessed since arriving in the southern part of the city, no one could deny that this location made sense—strategically, at least. But the moment the smell came to mind again, a wave of nausea hit the group like a second punch.

  “Boss, let’s just wait for the commanders,” Malachi said, half-pleading. “They’ll know someone who can clean this mess up.”

  Nova sighed, relenting with a nod. “Fine.”

  They settled outside. Some wandered the perimeter, surveying the area for threats—or maybe just distractions. Others sat quietly, trying not to think about the scent still lingering in their noses. Adira, however, wasn’t so lucky.

  Under Nova’s firm suggestion—more like a command—she found herself training with her bow.

  She had tried to get out of it. His response had been simple, pointed: “You’ve wasted enough time.”

  Now, each arrow she loosed carried a silent wish: Please Shira get here soon.

  Unfortunately for her, the commanders weren’t as quick-footed as them. Traveling from Univara to Quarath was going to take longer than just a couple of hours, no matter how urgent the summons.

  Watching Adira train, Nova turned his thoughts inward. ‘I should train too. Got some hours—why not brush up on another weapon?’

  His eyes drifted to Darius, who stood a short distance away, gaze lost in the sky like he was trying to see beyond it.

  Nova walked over.

  Darius turned as he heard him approach. When he saw who it was, his brow lifted slightly. “Boss?”

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  “Darius,” Nova said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I need to borrow your sword.”

  “Sure, but…” Darius said, retrieving the sword from his Inventory. He paused, giving Nova a pointed look. “You’re borrowing it. Not taking.”

  Nova chuckled. “Relax. I’m just borrowing it until the commanders get here.”

  Darius didn’t laugh. He stared at Nova for a long, silent moment before finally handing over the weapon with a reluctant nod.

  “Thanks,” Nova said, accepting the sword with a respectful nod of his own. Then he turned, heading toward a more secluded corner of the compound to train.

  As he walked away, Darius’s voice rang out behind him, sharp and loud: “Borrowing!”

  Nova smirked, shaking his head. ‘Do they really think I’d steal their weapons?’ The thought was absurd… and a little amusing.

  But then, a flicker of curiosity crept in. ‘Why is he so protective of this sword?’

  Gripping the hilt more firmly, Nova focused his mind—and almost instantly, the sword’s stats and description bloomed into his thoughts.

  [Knight’s Remnant]

  ·  Strength: +132

  ·  Dexterity: +89

  ·  Intelligence: +54

  (A sword wielded by a knight who gave his life for his Empire.)

  ‘So that’s why’, Nova thought, eyes widening slightly as the sword’s stats filled his mind. ‘He must’ve gone broke getting his hands on this thing.’

  A quiet chuckle escaped him, but it faded quickly as his thoughts shifted, growing more focused.

  ‘It’s been a while since I last checked my progress.’

  He drew a steady breath. ‘Status.’

  [Status]

  Rank: 0

  Name: Nova Grey

  Species: Human

  Affiliation: None

  Level: 27 (170/500)

  Mana: Mana Core (Low) (799475/100000000)

  Class: None

  Titles: Goblin Exterminator, Kings Slayer, Survivor, Spear Novice, Troll Exterminator, Orc Exterminator, Rune Novice, Mana Novice, Lord (Giants), Hunter

  Stat Points: 343

  Attributes:

  Strength: 232 (+65)

  Vigor: 205 (+93)

  Dexterity: 255 (+2655)

  Speed: 215 (+2237)

  Intelligence: 171 (+51)

  Wisdom: 215 (+65)

  Will: 10

  Luck: 10 (+10)

  Skills

  Active: Spear Thrust (15) (2497/16384000), Spear Jab (15) (69684/16384000), Spear Sweep (16) (8163241/32768000), Spear Lunge (11) (584102/1024000), Spear Overhead Strike (10) (814/512000), Sword Slash (1) (75/1000), Sword Stab (1) (11/1000), Sword Chop (0) (141/500), Sword Sweep (1) (48/1000), Sword Parry (1) (184/1000), Sword Block (0) (497/500), Blacksmithing (1) (346/1000), Woodworking (0) (54/500)

  Passive: Regeneration (11) (159419/512000), Keen Reflexes (8) (3140/128000), Momentum Streak (15) (1445179/16384000), One with the World (Spear) (MAX), One with the World (Footwork) (MAX)

  After reviewing his Stats, Nova gave a firm nod. Stepping into the stance for Sword Slash, he began his training.

  He didn’t hold back.

  Channeling his full Dexterity, his movements surged with speed—each slash faster than the last. His attack speed skyrocketed, turning into a blur of motion. Notification chimes echoed in his mind one after another, a constant stream of system alerts barely keeping up with him.

  [Sword Slash proficiency increased]

  [Sword Slash proficiency increased]

  [Sword Slash proficiency increased]

  From the sidelines, Darius couldn’t tear his gaze away from Nova, his concern for the sword outweighing everything else. His eyes tracked Nova’s every movement, watching the blur of his strikes with growing fascination. The wind whipped around him, howling like a storm as Nova’s arm left behind a series of afterimages with each slash. It seemed as though the blade never moved at all, yet in reality, it was moving with a speed so intense it defied belief.

  “At that pace, it won’t be long before he reaches Sword Novice,” Darius muttered under his breath, a hint of awe in his voice.

  The other generals were too absorbed in their own training to notice Nova’s impressive display, but even if they had, it wouldn't have shocked them.

  Minutes blurred into hours.

  As the group took breaks between their sessions, the generals engaged in idle chatter, occasionally stealing glances at Nova. It wasn’t until a few hours had passed that they began to notice something strange—Nova hadn’t stopped wielding the sword even once during this entire time. His endurance was uncanny, his focus unbreakable. Four hours had slipped by, and he’d remained locked in his relentless rhythm.

  But it wasn’t just Nova’s dedication that caught their attention.

  What truly surprised them was Adira. In a corner of the training area, she too had pushed herself relentlessly, taking only one short break during the entire session. Her face, usually filled with sharp wit and dry humor, was now an image of utter focus. She trained like never before, pushing herself as much as possible.

  “Just one break—is she okay?” Hector asked, wiping sweat from his brow. His clothes clung to him, damp from hours of training. Earlier, he had laid Alaric down to rest and started training, only now he was catching his breath, still trying to recover.

  Malachi took a long sip of water before shrugging nonchalantly. “I’d be pushing myself too if Boss was on my back the whole time.”

  Hector nodded, half-laughing. “You’re right.”

  From across the training ground, Darius spun a pair of daggers with practiced ease. Since it wasn’t worth using his sword for just a few more hours of training, he’d switched to daggers—one of his preferred weapons. The clink of the blades was rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

  Hector shook his head, muttering to himself, “I’m going b—”

  But he cut himself off when he spotted Shira approaching, flanked by a small army of people.

  “Oh?” Malachi raised an eyebrow, a grin creeping across his face. “Looks like the fastest ones are already here.”

  With a swift motion, he stowed his weapons back into his Inventory.

  Nodding in unison, Hector, Darius, and Nox rose from their spots, falling into a more attentive stance.

  Shira soon approached, flanked by a dozen commanders and a crowd of attendants. They stood at attention behind her, their presence commanding respect. Among the commanders there were two faces: Elric Everheart and Neve Whitlock.

  Shira’s gaze locked onto Nova as she closed the distance between them. When she reached him, she leaned in slightly, her voice low but clear. “We’re ready.”

  Snapping out of his focused state, Nova lowered his sword and, without sparing a glance at her, said, “Good. Have the workers clean up the building. The commanders can handle the heavy lifting.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Call Malachi here.”

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