I woke up staring at the ceiling, my mind still sluggish from sleep. But my body? It knew better. Before I could even think, my head turned, my eyes scanning the room—checking for movement, for anything out of place. Old habits didn’t die just because life had gotten easier.


    Nothing. Just the same small, underground room. White walls. Sealed tight. No windows, just a single door. Safe by design. Or at least, that’s what the humans told themselves.


    I knew why they built it this way. When you live this close to the borders, where the beasts roamed, caution wasn’t a choice—it was survival. But that didn’t mean I trusted it. A locked door, thick walls… that wasn’t safety. Safety was knowing nothing could reach you.


    And I wasn’t so sure about that.


    I’d heard the stories. Monsters that tunneled through stone. Beasts that could sense warmth, breath, life itself, even buried deep underground. If something like that came scratching at our walls, this place wouldn’t be a shelter. It’d be a grave.


    My gaze landed on the second bed. Empty. Nemsus was already gone.


    I exhaled and stretched, the dull ache of yesterday’s fight lingering in my muscles. The memory of it surfaced immediately. I knew from the start—Nemsus had been holding back.


    Viser had told us before: when an Eny advanced, when someone became an Ascendant, their mana reserves multiplied tenfold. Strength, speed, reflexes—at least doubled.


    And yet, that idiot still lost.


    I smirked, rubbing the sleep from my face.


    That’s what he gets for messing around with my sister.


    Behind Delilah’s beautiful face was something terrifying. I’d seen it before—felt it before. Even now, just thinking about it sent a chill down my spine.


    I exhaled, pushing the thought away before it dragged me somewhere I didn’t want to go. The past was the past.


    My eyes flicked to my watch. 00:30.


    Late. Too late.


    I hadn’t woken this late in years. Normally, I was up two hours earlier, slipping out for a run before the others even stirred. But today was different. Something felt… wrong.


    It wasn’t the kind of wrong you could see. It was the kind that settled deep in your chest, that made your skin itch and your muscles coil without knowing why. That instinct—the one that had kept me alive for years—was screaming at me now.


    Something was off.


    I began my day as I always did—sitting cross-legged on my bed, steadying my breath, focusing inward. I reached out with my senses, gathering the mana around me, drawing it in, letting it flow through me. My concentration settled on my Eny.


    I visualized it—my heart, then deeper, until I saw it clearly. A perfect white sphere, pulsing with mana.


    Four layers, each distinct, each essential.


    The third layer—the Refiner—was nearly complete. I could feel it working, purifying the mana, pressing it into something denser, stronger. Each time the mana broke through, the layer healed itself, growing more refined with every cycle. A day or two more, and it would be perfected.


    I shifted my focus to the fourth layer—where my runes rested.


    The Level 3 Rune of Darkness sat firm. No issues there. But my Level 1 Runes of Ice and Fire—they were differentt they were a problem.


    When I ascend—my lowest-level rune will go up by one level. Viser will bring me a Level 2 Fire Rune. That means I will still have to find a Level 2 Ice Rune.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    I have to find one, even if that means not ascending when I can. And with that, one of them will reach Level 3.


    But no matter how many times I ran the problem in my head, the answer remained just out of reach.


    Nero openid his eyes


    But there has to be a way...


    In an open ground behind the orphanage...


    "You know, Little Dee," Viser said, glancing at Delilah as she sat catching her breath after their sparring match, her back resting against the ground.


    "You could try smiling more. Don''t you think it''s time to start smiling for others too, not just when you''re around your brother, hm?"


    Her face was still the same making Viser look at her, then at the sky, as if lost in thought. It had been nearly four years since he first found them.


    Four years ago, behind some alleys of a poor neighborhood in Ventoria—a bustling city—when Nero was ten and she was nine.


    Nero had been in a terrible state, his clothes soaking in blood, full of bruises, two broken bones, while starving to death.


    His breathing had been ragged, barely able to draw in air after being caught stealing food. They had beaten him nearly to death and left him there, discarded like trash. Beside him, a little girl knelt, crying over his battered body, helpless and afraid.


    What do I do? What do I do?


    Nero… Brother… You can’t die. You can’t leave me.


    Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She pressed them against his chest, as if she could hold his life inside him, as if just touching him would make him wake up. But he didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe right. His chest barely rose, his face was too pale, and there was so much blood.


    Too much blood.


    Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t wipe them away. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care. She could only stare at the broken mess of her brother—her strong, unshakable brother—who had always protected her, always smiled at her, always told her things would be okay.


    But things weren’t okay.


    She wasn’t strong enough to help him. She wasn’t smart enough to save him.


    And if he died—


    No. No, no, no, no, NO!


    She shook him, hard. "Nero, get up! Please, get up! You have to!"


    But he didn’t.


    Her sobs came fast and ugly, her breath hitching in her throat as panic clawed at her chest. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know anything.


    She just knew she couldn’t lose him.


    Not him. Not Nero.


    When Viser appeared, she turned to face him. As she saw him, she reached into Nero''s pocket, grabbing something. When she turned again, her small hands were holding a dagger with all the strength she could muster.


    Her wide, golden eyes, filled with terror, held a desperate determination as she tried to shield her brother.


    I’ll kill him.


    I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.


    It doesn’t matter who he is. All humans die if you stab them enough, right?


    While Delilah was still inside her head, Viser was looking at them.


    All he saw were two starving children—one hovering on the edge of death, the other teetering on the brink of collapse.


    Even in that pitiful state, Nero had forced himself to his feet, staggering in front of his sister. His body was broken, his face swollen with pain, but his eyes burned with wild defiance.


    Brother? Delilah was even more worried now


    Viser looked at Nero but he saw no child before him but a wounded beast, wild and desperate.


    The boy''s body was barely holding together. Bruises painted him in shades of blue and purple, deep gashes still oozing blood. One eye was swollen shut, yet the other wouldn''t let him go.


    He was shaking from pain, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.


    Yet, despite his broken state, the boy stood his ground, his gaze filled with pure, unfiltered hatred.


    He wasn’t looking at Viser as a man, no, only as a threat—he saw a monster, another predator coming to take away the only thing he had left.


    Even now, barely able to stand, he was ready to fight to the death.


    Viser sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There was no reasoning with them. Even in their state, they wouldn’t surrender. And if he left them here… they’d be dead by morning.


    Regret settled in his chest as he stepped forward. The girl flinched, dagger raised—too slow. Before either could react, his hand blurred.


    Viser had no choice but to knock them both unconscious before taking them with him. He had seen the fire in the boy’s eyes, the desperation in the girl’s trembling hands, and he knew they would never come willingly. As he carried their frail bodies through the night, a deep sense of pity settled in his chest—two kids, barely clinging to life, yet still fighting as if the world hadn’t already tried to break them.


    He decided to raise them.


    It had taken nearly a year before they finally lowered their guards, before they stopped flinching at his presence and watching his every move like cornered animals. Even now, though Nero had learned to blend in with the other children, at least on the surface, his sister remained different. She only ever smiled when her brother was near, as if he were the only tether keeping her from drifting away.


    Viser knew she had come to care for him in her own quiet way—he saw it in the way she listened when he spoke, the way her shoulders no longer tensed when he was near. But still, that warmth never reached her smile. That was something she saved only for her brother.


    "You sure?" she asked with a forced smile. "Even if I wanted to, it''s not exactly in my control."


    Viser remained silent, debating whether to speak. His sharp gaze lingered on her before he let out a small smile. "Alright, don’t bother then," he said.


    But his expression quickly turned serious. "Now… about your runes."