Chapter 20

  Teran pivoted on his right hip, his weight pressing onto the outer edge of his left foot. As his stance widened, he drove forward, launching a powerful overhand right, his fist cutting through the air like a hammer.

  Eli saw it coming.

  With Teran’s weight shifting outward, Eli knew his momentum would carry him too far to the right—leaving an opening.

  As the fist rocketed toward him, Eli planted his right foot and pivoted sharply left, twisting his hips with precision.

  In the same motion, his left leg snapped up in a vicious arc.

  The roundhouse kick connected flush with Teran’s jaw.

  The sharp crack of impact echoed through the air.

  Teran staggered back, his stance breaking as Eli’s roundhouse kick landed flush against his jaw. The force whipped his head sideways, sending him into an unsteady step before he caught himself. He exhaled sharply, shaking out the momentary daze before rolling his shoulders and flashing a smirk.

  "Alright," Teran muttered, rubbing his jaw. "That one actually hurt."

  Eli lowered his leg, bouncing lightly on his feet as he studied his sparring partner. His breathing was controlled, his movements precise—but his mind was already analyzing. Not celebrating. Not satisfied. Analyzing.

  "It was decent," Eli admitted, tilting his head as if replaying the sequence in his mind. "But not clean."

  Teran arched an eyebrow. "You kicked me in the face, Eli. Pretty sure that counts as clean."

  Eli exhaled, shifting his stance back to neutral. "Yeah, but I over-committed on the pivot. My foot placement was a half-step too deep, which meant I lost a fraction of control over the angle of impact. I caught you, sure, but if you had just a little more forward momentum, I would have mistimed it. Instead of knocking you back, I’d be the one taking a counterstrike."

  Teran crossed his arms, watching as Eli turned and mimicked the kick in slow motion, adjusting his foot position with each repetition. The young warrior was relentless in his self-critique, never settling, never satisfied.

  "You don’t have to be perfect every time," Teran pointed out.

  Eli shook his head. "I do if I want Tenrae to work as intended. It’s a counter-based discipline, right? It’s supposed to be about redirection, not force. That means if I go in too aggressively, I break the technique’s core purpose."

  He reset his stance again, shifting through the movements like a dancer fine-tuning choreography. "I need to feel it more. React without overextending. Otherwise, it’s just another kick, not Tenrae."

  Teran watched him for a moment before nodding. "You're thinking about it the right way. But don’t overthink it in the moment. That’s when you freeze up."

  Eli sighed. "Yeah. That’s fair."

  Before Teran could respond, a faint shimmer of movement caught his eye.

  Eli noticed it too. Across the open plains leading toward the homestead, a small distortion in the air—almost like a mirage in the desert—shifted at the edge of their vision.

  Both of them instinctively tensed.

  Then the figure stepped into view.

  Alira.

  Eli’s shoulders relaxed the moment he saw her.

  Alira walked up the dirt path toward the homestead, her silhouette framed by the setting sun. She looked like she had just got back from a stroll around the garden. No trace of her having been gone for a month, but she was smiling—a wide, genuine grin that Eli had rarely seen from her.

  For a brief moment, he forgot everything else.

  He had gotten used to her absence over the last month, but now that she was back, something in his chest eased.

  He hadn’t realized just how much he had relied on her presence, relied on her guidance.

  Dainen stepped out onto the porch, arms crossed as he took in the sight of her. "Well, look at that," he mused, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "The Grace returns."

  Alira chuckled as she reached them, shaking her head. "I told you I’d be back."

  "Didn’t doubt it," Dainen said. "Still good to see you."

  Eli approached, “Dainen do you know this old lady?”

  Alira smirked. "Nice to see you too, Eli."

  Before he could say anything else, she reached over and pulled him into a hug.

  He froze.

  Not because he didn’t want the hug—but because she initiated it.

  For all the time they had known each other, Alira had been careful, reserved, always keeping a respectful distance.

  But now?

  She embraced him, a warm, solid presence that loosened something deep inside him—something he hadn’t even realized was wound so tight.

  He blinked rapidly, suddenly aware of the sting in his eyes.

  Damn it.

  Eli swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check as he returned the hug, giving it just enough pressure to make it feel real.

  Dainen, standing nearby, caught the moment.

  Eli saw the small, knowing smile cross the older man’s face, but—to his relief—Dainen didn’t comment. He just nodded slightly to himself, filing the observation away without a word.

  Alira pulled back after a few seconds, exhaling as if finally letting herself relax.

  Dainen clapped his hands together. "Alright, let’s get inside. You probably need to sit down, eat something that hasn’t been stored in that satchel for years, and tell us everything."

  Alira shook her head. "Not yet. I need a bit, I need to speak to Eli first and meditate.”

  Dainen didn’t even hesitate. "Sure. I’ll get dinner started." He grabbed Teran by the neck, steering him toward the house. "Come on, let’s leave these two to their secret plotting."

  Teran groaned but let himself be pulled along. "If they’re plotting, I feel like we should at least get to listen."

  "Not today," Dainen replied. The door shut behind them.

  Inside the small house, the air felt cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the heat of the day outside.

  Alira exhaled deeply as she stepped through the doorway, rolling her shoulders before moving toward one of the chairs by the wooden table. She didn’t sit right away. Instead, she just stood there for a moment, taking it all in.

  Eli watched as her gaze swept over the familiar space—the weapons rack near the door, the stone hearth, the wooden beams overhead.

  For the first time since she had arrived, she looked weary.

  Not just tired from the journey, but drained. The weight of the last month pressed into her posture, making her seem smaller, heavier, like she had been holding it all in until now.

  Finally, she sank into the chair with a quiet sigh, running a hand through her dark hair.

  Eli sat across from her, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He clearly didn’t know Alira very long, but she isn’t one to show any sign of weariness,

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  She gave a small nod, but it wasn’t immediate.

  "I am now," she admitted, though there was something unspoken behind the words. "Getting back here was… more exhausting than I expected. Turns out I worried about you more than I figured I would."

  Eli studied her carefully. "Well, I was worried about you too. Little old ladies out by themselves, you never know the trouble they will get themselves in."

  "Nothing this old lady couldn’t handle," she said, as she sat back.

  But then her gaze flickered over him, her expression shifting. She was assessing him now.

  "You look stronger," she noted.

  Eli smirked. "I leveled up everything but Titan Form, just can’t get the speed and power yet to fight with any sort of balance.”

  Eli glanced at his abilities icon and they pulled up in front of him.

  ?? Titan Form – Copper Level 2 → 63% ??????????

  ?? Herculean Strength – Copper Level 4 (Cap Reached) ?????????? +1

  ?? Reinforced Ligaments – Copper Level 3 → 64% ?????????? +1

  ?? Adamant Heart – Copper Level 2 → 68% ?????????? +1

  ?? Meteor Dash – Copper Level 2 → 96% ?????????? +1

  Stolen novel; please report.

  ?? Fusion Punch – Copper Level 2 → 72% ?????????? +1

  “I reached the cap level on Herculean Strength. I am 4% away from level 3 for Meteor Dash. And about 30% for the others. So, yeah, I am getting there.”

  Alira leaned back slightly, her keen eyes narrowing. "No, that is great, and good job. But you look different, something’s different."

  “Mirelle gave me a haircut. I think she did decent. She cuts everyone’s hair, so I figured I would let her have at it. I was going to have Dainen just give me a buzz cut. Of all the things I always thought about when playing these fantasy games, getting a haircut was not on that list.” He was running his hair through his hair.

  Alira smiled, “Your hair does look good, nothing more important than a good-looking warrior.” Alira rolled her eyes.

  “Aww, you said I was a good-looking warrior.” Eli said this by putting his head on his chin like he was preparing for a photo shoot.

  “Also, ‘if you look good, you play good’, or in this case, if you look good, you fight good…That doesn’t have the same flow.” Eli said looking disappointed.

  Alira just watched him ramble, she really did care for this kid. But he had a way of taking a conversation completely into the void.

  “Listen, Eli,” Alira said, giving him a pointed look. “When we travel, you’re going to draw attention—not always on purpose. Though, knowing you, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ways to end up in the center of your own mess.”

  Eli opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. She wasn’t wrong.

  “But outside of those… self-inflicted situations,” she continued, “there are people who will notice you for a different reason. Some individuals have something called Mana Sight. It’s a gift that comes from the Life Affinity.”

  She paused, watching for his reaction.

  “And?” Eli prompted.

  “And,” Alira said, “most of the people with Mana Sight belong to the Clergy of the Preserver and Reformer.”

  Eli frowned. That sounded like a problem.

  Alira continued, “And you can’t hide what you’re currently emitting. Your mana already has a distinct aura—one that stands out. People will notice. We can’t do anything about it for now, but you need to understand what you’re walking into.”

  Eli exhaled sharply. “I get it. I’m already going to attract attention just by existing, so I need to avoid making it worse.”

  Alira nodded, taking a deep breath. “Exactly.”

  Eli saw the weariness in her eyes. “So, what happened out there?”

  Alira leaned back, stretching her arms. “I’ll go over everything when we’re at Dainen’s. I don’t want to explain it twice and risk missing something the second time.”

  Eli nodded. “Fair. And honestly? Very wise of you.”

  She gave him a dry look. “I am wise.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why I said it.”

  She exhaled, rubbing her temple. “I need to meditate. And more importantly, I need a shower before I sit in an enclosed space with people.”

  Eli raised an eyebrow. “You saying you stink?”

  Alira shot him a warning look.

  Eli leaned back dramatically, sniffing the air. “Huh. You know, I did notice a weird odor earlier, but I figured it was just the wind shifting, bringing in the smell from the farms west of here.”

  Alira narrowed her eyes. “The farms that are twenty-five kilometers away?”

  Eli shrugged. “Yeah. That’s what I assumed. But now that you mention it…”

  She just stared at him.

  “You really need that shower,” he finished.

  For a second, she blinked. Then—to his surprise—she laughed.

  Eli grinned. Mission accomplished.

  She shook her head, standing from the chair. “I definitely missed being around you.”

  He leaned back, arms crossed. “Same.”

  And for the first time in a month, Eli felt like things were finally back to normal—or whatever normal even meant for him anymore.

  The air inside the homestead was thick with warmth from the hearth, the scent of roasted meat and herbs filling the space. At the table sat Dainen, Eli, Taren, and Mirelle, their attention shifting as Alira lowered herself into a chair.

  She rolled her shoulders, as if shaking off the weight of the journey. "Alright," she exhaled. "Let’s get into it."

  She didn’t wait for anyone to settle in.

  "I ran into a major mana fluctuation," she began, her tone steady but edged with something heavier. "I was able to sense the affinities and measure the intensity. It was powerful. The Life Mana in this region was fighting against the Spiritual Affinity—it was leaking from a tear of some kind. Before I could study the source, three Gold-Tier monsters manifested."

  She paused, her gaze flicking to Dainen. "And then an Emerald-Tier."

  Dainen leaned forward, his expression sharpening. "Just like that? No build-up?"

  "Instant manifestation," she confirmed. "Something is accelerating the process."

  A quiet settled over the table, the implications sinking in.

  Alira shifted slightly. "As I was studying the Emerald-Tier, I noticed something else. Life and Spiritual Affinity, sure. But then—I felt a third affinity. Elemental. It wasn’t fully attached, but it was trying to bind itself to the others."

  Her fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table. "I’ve never seen anything like it."

  She let that settle before finishing with a simple, "Before it could go any further, I eliminated it."

  Silence.

  Taren blinked. "I’m sorry—just like that? ‘I eliminated it’?"

  Alira gave him a flat, unimpressed look. "Would you prefer a dramatic retelling?"

  Eli, without hesitation, "Yes."

  Taren opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He exhaled. "No, actually. Keep going."

  Alira chuckled, shaking her head. "I wrapped it in healing mana and used it to stabilize the flickering. Once I got the pattern, I struck its mana core."

  "That was it?" Taren and Eli said in unison.

  Alira just shrugged. "So, after my grueling fifteen-second battle for survival, I went on my way."

  Eli muttered, "Unbelievable."

  Alira ignored him. "I checked into a coin-only inn in Caelshold. No mana scans, no records. Then, I scouted the capital."

  Her expression darkened slightly. "More guards than before. The class divide is worse—the outer districts are struggling, and the city feels...tense."

  She exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I got tired of hiding. Tired of sneaking around and watching from a distance."

  She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "So, I stopped."

  Eli raised a brow. "You just—what, strolled in?"

  Alira smirked. "Walked right through the outer guards. They asked what I was doing, and I told them. They didn’t scan me, didn’t question me—just let me go."

  Eli narrowed his eyes. "Just like that?"

  "Just like that," she echoed. "No sneaking, no disguises. When I got to the entrance of the Temple of Celestial Echoes, the guard barely looked up when he scanned my hand. I walked in like I belonged there."

  Eli wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or worried. "That’s either terrifyingly smooth or incredibly reckless."

  Alira shrugged. "Why waste effort hiding when you can just walk through the front door?"

  She continued. "I spent hours in the temple archives." A flicker of irritation crossed her face. "And then, of course, I ran into Sirian Vale."

  She glanced at Dainen. "You remember him?"

  Dainen’s jaw tightened. His expression darkened like storm clouds rolling in. "Unfortunately."

  Alira smirked slightly. "Same old Sirian. Smug, self-important, and entirely too pleased with himself. Asked what I was researching, then—completely offhand, of course—mentioned that others were searching for Celestial Artifacts."

  Eli caught the slight shift in her tone. "And let me guess—he told you to be careful?"

  Alira nodded. "Not in so many words, but yes. It wasn’t a warning—it was a reminder. A game to him."

  Dainen scoffed. "I always hated that arrogant bastard."

  Alira chuckled. "At least he’s predictable."

  She shifted gears. "I did find something, though. The Nexus Star. It was only mentioned once, buried in an old document—stating it was recorded in the Journal of the First Five. The Journal is stored in one of the archive temples in Stormspire."

  She let that sink in before finishing. "That’s where we need to go next."

  The weight of her words settled over the table.

  Then, her voice dropped slightly. "But before I could leave the temple…"

  She hesitated.

  "The Hand of the Monarch walked in."

  The shift in energy was immediate.

  Dainen’s fingers curled against the edge of the table—gripping the wood so hard that a crack splintered along its surface. The mana-infused material repaired itself instantly, but the tension remained.

  Eli glanced between them, suddenly feeling like he had just walked into the middle of something massive.

  "Okay," he said carefully. "And who exactly is that?"

  Alira exhaled. "The Monarch’s personal guard. Six elite Ruby-Tier soldiers. The best of the best."

  She leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable.

  "And they weren’t alone."

  A pause.

  "High Chamberlain Ressan Mirth was with them."

  The silence was deafening.

  Eli didn’t need to know much to realize that was very bad news.

  Dainen’s fingers curled into a fist, but he remained silent.

  Eli frowned. "Okay… and who is that?"

  Alira’s expression hardened. "The Monarch’s spymaster. He served under the previous ruler and somehow kept his position when Elarion took the throne. Highly irregular. Some believe he had a hand in the previous Monarch’s ‘illness.’ Those who voiced concerns?" She exhaled. "Let’s just say they were reassigned to the Monster Guild’s front lines. None returned."

  Eli muttered, "Sounds like a lovely person. Reminds me of a character on Game of Thrones—Petyr Baelish. Real piece of work. But he got his in the last season. Sansa and Arya played him, and it was amazing."

  His eyes flicked to the hearth as he continued, "Well, that episode was amazing. The final season? Total garbage. I mean, how are we just going to have Daenerys go nuts and kill everyone—oh, shit. Spoiler alert."

  Silence.

  Everyone just stared at him.

  Alira smirked. "He’s a delight."

  Eli cleared his throat. "Right. Let’s table the Game of Thrones review, but we will get back to it." He waved a hand. "Please, continue."

  Alira gave him an amused glance before shifting back to the matter at hand.

  "When I reached the throne room, Elarion was in a meeting—several nobles, two elves, and Venya."

  Eli’s eyes narrowed. "Venya again?"

  Alira nodded but pushed forward before he could derail the conversation further. "Elarion dismissed everyone except her. Then, they asked about you." She looked directly at Eli. "Venya told Elarion we were headed to the capital to register you."

  Eli gave her a flat look. "That’s not even remotely true."

  "I know," Alira admitted. "And I should have had a better story prepared. But I didn’t think Venya would have the Monarch’s ear. That was my mistake."

  A pause.

  Then she looked him in the eye.

  "This time, I didn’t lie. I played the game."

  The air felt heavier with Alira’s words.

  Her tone had shifted—serious, instructive.

  "Always speak in truths, Eli." She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "The truth is powerful. And I should have played the political game with Venya better. Always tell the truth—a lie will always need to be supported by more lies. Truth, even with omissions, is a powerful tool.

  She tapped a finger against the table. "A truth can be verified, and once verified, trust increases. There’s a threshold of trust—once someone crosses it, their secrets become whispered conversations.

  People want to share secrets. Once someone verifies part of a truth, it becomes easier for them to accept the rest. Eventually, they stop needing verification and simply accept what they are told as truth.

  She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "A lie can also be verified—and once exposed, you don’t just lose trust; you gain a stigma as someone who cannot be trusted. That reputation can stay with you for a lifetime."

  Silence hung in the air.

  Then, after a long pause, Alira continued. "Always take everyone’s ‘truth’ at face value, but never assume it’s 100% accurate. Unless you were there to witness an event, take the information, use it, but don’t rely on it completely. People don’t always remember events exactly as they happened. The farther they are from the moment in time, the more their memory betrays even them."

  Her voice carried a weight Eli hadn’t heard from her before.

  "Nobles have used truth with omissions to control the civilian population for as long as there have been rulers and subjects."

  Silence settled again.

  Then Eli smirked. "That’s your way of saying ‘I didn’t lie—I just didn’t tell the whole truth,’ isn’t it?"

  Alira shrugged. "I told them we parted ways because my presence was drawing too much attention. That it was safer for us to separate."

  Eli exhaled. "Right. A true statement."

  "Exactly." She said.

  She shifted again, this time sitting forward, her expression sharpening. "Then, I brought up something more pressing—Durnspire’s military buildup. Venya, when we first met her in Brightvale, told us they’re amassing an army larger than ours.”

  The air in the homestead felt heavier, the warmth of the hearth unable to cut through the weight of Alira’s words.

  Eli caught onto something. "Ours?"

  Alira gave a small nod, her expression unreadable.

  "I needed to make sure he understood that, at least in regard to these mana fluctuations and the unrest across the regions, we’re on the same side. For now."

  She tapped the table lightly. "I also gave him my findings on the monster manifestations, confirming what his scholars had already suspected. Then I mentioned my theory about the Preserver and the Reformer being involved in this mess. Again—his scholars had reached the same conclusion."

  A pause. Then, a smirk.

  "Venya isn’t convinced that’s all I know. She had me followed when I left."

  Eli groaned. "Let me guess—you lost them?"

  "Of course," she said easily. "But I threw in some misdirection just to be sure."

  “Unfortunately, my misdirection ended up being more of a time drain than I anticipated.”

  Mirelle raised an eyebrow. “You kill some more monsters?”

  Dainen didn’t even look up. "Of course, she did."

  Alira just shrugged.

  Eli exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Alright. So what now?"

  Alira leaned forward, resting her arms on the table.

  "Now?" she said, voice steady. "We go to Stormspire."