《God Reborn (LitRPG Progression Fantasy)》 1 - Heavy is the Crown 1 - Heavy is the Crown Fractures spread through the crystal surface of the hemispherical Vault like jagged veins, their threads branching across the ground and reaching the edges. The sharp, intermittent cracks grew more erratic with each heavy breath and clink of the plate armor worn, prompting Valrion to direct his full attention to what lay below his feet. Without uttering a word or lifting a finger, golden light akin to the color of his eyes materialized out of thin air and flowed over every rippling line. It twisted and throbbed, battling against the gaps. He successfully mended most of them as if they hadn¡¯t split apart in the first place, but new fractures emerged in other areas, rendering his effort futile. He strained to pour more of himself into his power, sending a shockwave that whipped his long, tied-back white hair away. The light blazed brighter and raced faster, chasing after the rifts that moved just as swiftly, leaving behind faint traces of repaired splinters. If some other gods had been here and stated that all he did was needlessly paint on the plateau, he wouldn¡¯t have the face to argue with them. Sudden, constant growls resonated beneath the ground, followed by the deepening and expanding of every fracture, evading the speed of his force. The collapse had accelerated. His stomach lurched at the thought of his worst nightmare coming true. He adjusted the trajectory of the intense stream, letting it do its best to prevent the lines from converging into holes, knowing that if they did, the entire structure would crumble. He then moved to conjure a protective barrier. He then focused on summoning a circular shimmer at the equator, expanding it upward and downward before it solidified into an invisible dome surrounding the inner walls of the Vault. All the while, his eyes stayed fixated on the warm illumination around the fractures, quietly wishing his determination would prevail. Moments drifted by, and nothing seemed to change for the better. Evidently, he wasn¡¯t granted a brief respite when the cracks magnified further, causing a forceful burst of crimson brilliance to spill through the crevices, shooting wildly into the sky. He glanced up, witnessing it puncture the inside layer of his barrier. Until now, he had only seen the profound red color within the crystal ground: the fount of rage and torment from the Twelve Eidolons accumulated over the past few millennia. It wasn¡¯t even a fraction of their true might, yet it was able to break the defense of someone of his stature. He didn¡¯t see it coming since he wouldn¡¯t have conceived anything less than perfect¡ªcertainly not for a turn of events so significant. He averted his gaze back to the ground as it quaked. Taking a few steps back to distance himself from the core that continued to shatter, high-pitched laughter rose, grating on his nerves and making his skin crawl. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was mocking him or merely a sign of joy, but there was no time to dwell on such frivolous thoughts when his chances were growing thin. Deep down, he knew he was heading toward a dead end with a slim chance to reverse the situation, but he couldn¡¯t let it go. At the very least, he might manage to debilitate an eidolon or two when they broke forth. With effort, he willed another golden light to patch the upper part of the invisible dome, strengthening it simultaneously, sacrificing more energy than he should have. His head felt clouded as his vision began to blur. Though none of these were good signs, he hoped his actions would prove more efficient than casting a new protection. Surrender should be the last thing he did here, but his movement hitched when a soothing, masculine voice suddenly whispered in his ear, Leave, my son. Do not trade your soul for naught. Find shelter at home. They wouldn¡¯t dare disturb the dwelling of gods. He recognized the origin of the voice. The words spoken bore no lies: none of his doings were in his favor, and eidolons knew not to tread into Heaven carelessly. He was still reluctant to give in, but the command weighed more than his insistence. The consequences were clear when he stopped reinforcing the dome. Not only did the crimson light graze the surface, but it also pierced through it, resulting in a clattering sound. Though it was far softer than the rumbles, it would only mean there was no longer anything sturdy enough to barricade the area. ¡°Son of Heaven.¡± His eyes widened in the presence of another voice¡ªan unfamiliar, husky female tone. He glared at its source: the rifts in the ground intersected and splintered before he could react to it. The crimson beams merged into a single stream of light, surging upward. Crystal shards flew in every direction¡ªsome nearly hitting him before dispersing harmlessly away. ¡°The King forged a magnificent cage for our twelve souls, yet it was his own beloved who destroyed its bonds,¡± the voice continued, dripping with scorn. ¡°Even darkness knows tragedy.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Amid the violent flare and turmoil, he stood still, staring at the chaos unfolding before him. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his fist, fighting the urge to scream that this wasn¡¯t the end¡ªthat one day, somehow, he would rebuild this Vault from scratch¡ªbut his eyes betrayed the truth of the crumbling structures around him, a reminder that he must leave. Burdened by the growing weight on his shoulders, he turned around and vanished in a flash, letting the woman¡¯s haunting cackle echo in his head. Her final words clung to him, tightening around his chest, but he pushed them aside, refusing to acknowledge the meaning they carried. Sweeping, barren mountain ranges marked the safe perimeter of Heaven. Though he could keep on going, a vision seized him, halting him in his tracks¡ªa revelation his father had imparted to every heavenly mind. As if he had never left, he hovered above the crushed Vault and saw the Twelve Eidolons emerging from their prison in their primordial forms. Every last one of them¡ªfrom the walkers who sneered at him to the flyers who didn¡¯t express much. Without a single glance back, they fled Hell, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. Eru would be their destination¡ªthe harshest mortal plane in existence, yet the very place that gave birth to them. Even the mightiest soldiers in Heaven would shudder at the thought of what was to come.
Rarely did celestial souls encounter punishment, for as all-wise beings, they were meant to understand the distinction between right and wrong. In Heaven¡¯s history, such tragedies had occurred only a handful of times. Depending on the severity of the wrongdoings, all had lived through the malefactors getting transformed into statues in the deepest parts of Hell, slowly eroding over time, to a harsher case like being isolated to a barren planet, where they would taste loneliness for eternity. Valrion couldn¡¯t presume what would be his when he arrived at the Celestial Hall. Hundreds of gods had stood along the moonstone pathway, waiting for him in their ethereal garments and gears that glimmered like starlight. Most would consider this one of the most essential places in Heaven, where the King of Heaven spent much of his time seated upon the all-white stone Throne atop the altar. The Throne was framed by an archway of the same hue, with golden birds perched along its upper edges. Situated on a warm-colored lake¡ªa blend of gold, orange, and red¡ªthe hall¡¯s foundation allowed gods to walk freely without the chance of falling. There were no pillars, walls, or roofs to enclose the space. The immense sun behind the altar seemed capable of swallowing the area in one gulp, yet its intense light brought no harm to anything. The last two times such a large gathering had taken place were when Valrion and his younger sister were born. In the divine realm, the rhythm of existence isn¡¯t bound by mortal definitions ¡ªthe sky remained eternally bright, never fading to night. However, if a comparison had to be made, it could be said that thousands of human years had passed since then. Just as they differed from mortals, all heavenly inhabitants were granted the choice to learn the universe¡¯s history, even long before their existence. He remembered well when his mother had cradled him up to the Throne¡ªher flowing dress gliding along the broad steps. Carefully, she had placed him on his father¡¯s lap before standing beside him and facing the crowd ahead. ¡°To those who guard the living and the spirits, pay honor to your future ruler. One day, he shall claim this throne as his own. Tend to him with gentle care,¡± his father had intonated, maintaining his stoic demeanor. Right after, he saw all the gods bow their heads simultaneously. His sister had received a similar treatment¡ªhow their mother had brought her to their father¡ªbut the Throne was never mentioned. The gods still paid her their most profound respect, but as the secondborn, it was a widely known and accepted rule that she could only take over if he could not do so. It was never anyone¡¯s concern since no Heaven¡¯s heir had ever failed in their duty. Ironically likewise, there had never been one who stood before the altar with his head lowered and shoulders slumped, as Valrion was doing now. ¡°The Great War we waged against the Twelve Eidolons, the intricate Vault we crafted to bind them¡ªnow all is undone over a moment of folly,¡± his father began, reverberating through the hall. As always, his father sat on his throne with an unfathomable visage. His mother was to his father¡¯s left, her posture stiff and somber as if a hidden knife were being twisted in her side. Beside her, his much shorter sister appeared mortified, her expression stricken with fear, like a child encountering a hellish demon for the first time. He had never seen them that miserable, but he understood why. If this had been someplace else, he would have tried to calm them down. Right now, he could only part his mouth several times before closing it again, not knowing how to retort to his father¡¯s statement. He didn¡¯t even dare to look at the man. ¡°Enlighten me, Son of Heaven, what do you think the Twelve Eidolons will do in Eru?¡± his father asked after a hush of reverence. He didn¡¯t expect his father to utter a question so daunting, but an old narrative resurfaced in his mind¡ªone from a bygone era when the Twelve Eidolons, in their arrogance, rebelled against Heaven¡¯s will, leading to the destruction of most life on the planet. Led by his father, Heaven waged a long and grueling war against them, emerging victorious only by a narrow margin. Casting his gaze further down, the scene in his mind shifted to a possible future: the ancient beings succumbing to another cycle of hubris, but would they repeat their past mistakes, knowing the consequences that followed? Whether they could have won had one or two things been different, the fact remained: they had lost. Slowly, he glanced up to meet his father¡¯s eyes. ¡°If they were to challenge us, they would need to find a new way we haven¡¯t thought of before.¡± ¡°Then enlighten as well, to whom shall the blame be laid?¡± His father¡¯s next question came fast. He clenched his hands. There was a significant pause before he answered, ¡°The fault is mine alone.¡± From his peripherals, he noticed his sister¡¯s mouth hanging open, but she quickly shut it when their mother gripped her clasped hands. His sister immediately looked down, her waist-length hair falling to the sides of her face. ¡°It is settled, then. I must proceed.¡± His father¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Valrion, Son of Heaven, you have failed in your sacred duty to guard the Vault of the Twelve Eidolons. Therefore, you shall be cast into Eru, estranged from the divine.¡± The collective gasp that filled the hall was harrowing. 2 - Farewell, Heaven 2 - Farewell, Heaven Valrion wouldn¡¯t be the first god cast away to Eru. Before him, at least a dozen others had been condemned to wander the lands of mortals, witnessing the fleeting nature of human existence while remaining ageless. Those around them would wither and pass, leading most to choose a secluded life, as getting close to anyone would only bring anguish. A few who couldn¡¯t bear the endless solitude eventually sought peace in death. Knowing that would be his future, Valrion did his best to maintain his solemn composure, only taking a quick glance at his mother and sister, who furrowed their brows in disbelief. A part of him wanted to believe that his high status would shield him from such a severe sentence, but his father had never taken back his words, particularly not in the presence of the other gods. What he had done wasn¡¯t something easily fixed. He understood that. It wasn¡¯t like when he had run around the Garden of Reveries as a child and knocked over a few potted orchids. The Twelve Eidolons could rival thousands of gods and stand until the very end. His father had even warned him to escape the Vault, knowing he would lose. What other reason could there be for not a single god chasing after them? He understood the severity of his actions, so why did shame clench at his chest, making his heart race? He tried to control his breathing, doing his best to conceal his struggle in front of the crowd. Not once did he avert his gaze from his father¡¯s throne¡ªthis was the least he could do. ¡°This can¡¯t be his fate! We will need him if the Twelve Eidolons rise against us once more, and you know they will!¡± his mother pleaded, laced with urgency. Many others murmured in agreement. His father didn¡¯t flinch in the slightest. ¡°Heaven has always been just. If it isn¡¯t him, is anyone in this hall willing to shoulder the weight of his sin?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± His mother couldn¡¯t hide the fright in her voice. ¡°Let it be me. Allow me to bear the punishment instead.¡± ¡°Mother, please don¡¯t say reckless things!¡± his sister shouted before stepping forward and glaring at the king, who kept looking straight at the crowd. ¡°Father, you know the truth! Everyone here knows it! You¡¯ve shown it to them¡ª¡± ¡°Hold your tongue, Asterra,¡± Valrion said at last, calmly yet loud enough. He glanced around, frowning at the dismay on everyone¡¯s faces, including his own family. ¡°How dare any of you question the King of Heaven? He sees the future more clearly than any of us. His judgment is never flawed.¡± Asterra shook her head a few times. ¡°But, Valrion¡ª¡± ¡°I said enough,¡± he demanded, facing his father again. His next words caught in his throat, but he forced himself to go on, ¡°King of Heaven, I accept your punishment.¡± He sensed a glimpse of astonishment in his father¡¯s eyes¡ªthe first time the immutable figure showed a shift in his disposition, though he couldn¡¯t tell if it was out of wonder or disappointment. Perhaps his father deemed his verbal consent unnecessary. After all, the decision was absolute, regardless of his reaction. ¡°Very well,¡± his father said. ¡°Do you have any last words?¡± Will I face my ultimate demise, Father? was the first thing that rushed into him, but he quickly suppressed it. Loneliness wasn¡¯t the only thing that could kill an unguarded fallen god in Eru¡ªmortals, monsters, the other fallen gods if they were aware of each other¡¯s existence, or eidolons themselves. If that happened, he would cease to exist. His essence would be pulled back into the Source, where form and free will could no longer persist, but he should not fear. The second was, Will I ever be given a chance to redeem myself? Once again, he decided against it. His father had never mentioned any of the fallen gods after they left Heaven, let alone consider their well-being. Atonement was never within his father¡¯s thoughts. Humorously, he still harbored the notion that he would be treated lightly as the Son of Heaven, but he shook his head slightly, trying to erase the naive hope. Had the positions been switched, he might have only forgiven his child if they had managed to recapture every single eidolon and restore peace to its former state. If only it were that easy. ¡°Farewell, then, everyone,¡± he said, choosing the most ordinary parting remark as his gaze landed on Asterra. ¡°Especially you, Daughter of Heaven. You¡¯re the next in line.¡± It was evident that Asterra hated hearing those words. Her lips curled downward, but she didn¡¯t look away like before. Seeing how bravely she tried to present herself in front of the crowd brought some sort of relief to him.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. And, Father, forgive me for being a failure, he said to himself. Even though his father didn¡¯t react, their minds were intertwined. As long as he allowed it, his father could perceive his thoughts as clearly as if he had stated them aloud. The moment he realized he had been stripped of his divinity was when shivers coursed through his body. His joints felt as if they detached from one another¡ªa sensation he had only heard through human descriptions of physical discomfort. Panic gripped him as he realized the majesty of his surroundings: the building, the sun, even the clouds. A voice within insisted that he didn¡¯t belong here, though he couldn¡¯t pinpoint what or why. He recalled mortals describing it as an itch that couldn¡¯t be scratched or a knot inside their stomach¡ª something that once seemed so pathetic, yet it had been gnawing at him constantly since the Vault. Without notice, an inexplicable force pulled him backward. In the blink of an eye, he was miles away from the Celestial Hall, then Heaven itself. He crossed an unseen threshold separating the mystical realm from the outside world. When he finally came to a stop, he was floating alone in the cosmos. He had never considered Heaven¡¯s ideal temperature before. He had known mortals complain daily about being too hot or cold, but the air in Heaven had always enveloped him in comfort. Now, he understood the chill they experienced every time winter approached. It wasn¡¯t biting at his skin, but it certainly wasn¡¯t comfortable either. Glancing around, he took in the vastness around him. Stars sparkled like tiny, colorful beacons in the endless black. Asteroids drifted nearby, rough and unyielding¡ªa testament to the passage of life. He had only watched this beauty from his safe standing in Heaven, never so up close. The experience was breathtaking yet isolating. What was he supposed to do? He wanted to scream for help¡ªsomething he had only done a handful of times, but mostly when he was just a coddled newborn¡ªbut no sound escaped his throat. Concerns regarding his loved ones emerged in his mind, overwhelming him. What was his ever-loving father thinking, throwing him away like this? Were his mother and sister truly accepting of the decision? Where were his friends? Why did the other gods not fight for his freedom? Never in his life had he longed to see them again, but he was never away. He wished for another chance to talk to them. The desire was beyond his control, and it angered him even further that he couldn¡¯t do anything about it. His hands and legs flailed aimlessly, hoping to find a landing place, but he was rooted to the spot. The agitating silence was cut short by the sudden appearance of a transparent gray rectangular image right before his eyes, a soft glow emanating from its edges. The faint white text within stretched from one corner to another, perfectly legible against the muted background. [Initializing the Handbook.] He blinked at the peculiar message. Before he could grasp its meaning, the words slowly transformed. [Rise with wisdom, for through it alone will you reclaim what was lost.] The image flickered in and out of focus, but he could perceive it well. To reclaim what was lost. His immediate thought was the divinity that was taken from him. A rush of thrill filled him as his thoughts went to the possibility that the message was from Heaven¡ªoffering a chance to return to his former life so soon. Shouldn¡¯t this mean that his wish was coming true? That he would be treated differently as the Son of Heaven? [You have lost all your godhood abilities.] [You have retained all your past memories.] [Preparation completed. You will be reborn in Eru.] Just as quickly as the new sets of words appeared one after another, his joy vanished. The image still stuttered, leaving only the last part, but it didn¡¯t hinder him when he could read everything: You have lost all your godhood abilities. You have retained all your past memories. You will be reborn in Eru. He didn¡¯t need to be informed of the first two¡ªhe could feel his weakened body¡ªbut why would he be reborn in the place of his condemnation? It seemed nothing more than an additional punishment. Could this message really be from Heaven, or was another entity trying to make a fool of his unguarded state? Carefully, he reached out to touch the image. As his fingers passed through, it distorted, then faded until it disappeared completely. Remarkably different but oddly familiar to his last moment in Heaven, he was thrust forward instead of yanked behind. He couldn¡¯t spare a moment to ponder when the stars around stretched into vibrant streaks of light, creating a tapestry of luminous lines that raced past him. Soon, they started fading away as thin clouds formed around him. Their shapes thickened before he passed through, unveiling the grand view below: a range of lush green forests and sprawling fields with shimmering lakes and winding rivers glinting in the sunlight. The fear was ever-present, but alongside it came wonder and excitement. Letting himself be absorbed in the unfolding scene, he gradually lost awareness of his physical body. He could no longer feel his limbs, but it didn¡¯t disturb him as it once would have. He continued to descend, nearing a village nestled among rice paddies. As he approached, a two-story house that looked considerably bigger than its neighbors opened its roof to the sky. In one of the rooms, a woman lay in bed with her knees drawn up while two others stood at the foot of the mattress. To her right sat a man holding her hand. Their forms were obscure like shadows in a dream, and their exchanges a murmur. The closer he got to the woman, the more he sensed her pain. Her face was a vivid red, stark against the others, who were enshrouded in the same monotonous darkness. She was sweating¡ªbreaths coming in ragged gasps and mouth widening in a silent struggle. Just when he was about to crash against her, he realized the warnings weren¡¯t a jest, and everything faded to black. 3 - The Handbook 3 - The Handbook Valrion opened his eyes, and a blur of soft light flooded his sight. He blinked several times, adjusting to the irregularity before gazing at a blurred expanse above him. Indiscernible shapes and colors merged like splattered liquid, creating shifting patterns that danced before him. Mostly, they were black and brown. The next thing he noticed was how constrained he was. He stretched out his limbs but didn¡¯t reach their usual range. As his vision gradually cleared, he gawked at a pair of short, bloated, and wrinkly arms. He flexed the fingers, realizing they were his, so why did they appear that way? He turned his head to the right and found wooden slats separating him from the other side. Two figures in loose outfits walked by¡ªa man and a woman, judging by their voices. It was dark out there, with just an amber hue coming from what seemed to be lanterns. Though their words were muffled, he could tell they were speaking to one another. Questions swirled in his mind¡ªwho were these people, why couldn¡¯t they speak louder, why couldn¡¯t he speak himself¡ªbut these couldn¡¯t linger for long when a sudden growl from his stomach caught him off guard. Before he could process the sensation any further, an odd instinct took over, and he started crying. It was as though an invisible heaviness pressed down on his chest. With every tear shed, confusion and disbelief overwhelmed him. What was he crying about? He just wanted to feel okay, but the harder he tried to silence himself, the more difficult it became. The realization that he couldn¡¯t even reach the most basic sense of comfort left him feeling disoriented. He didn¡¯t like this. The emptiness in his stomach or the dampness that clung to his cheeks¡ªeverything was foreign, and he knew he wasn¡¯t meant to feel this way. ¡°Why did you wake up suddenly?¡± the woman from before asked, speaking in a language that wasn¡¯t his first but one he understood well. She walked closer, approaching him as a dark silhouette. Her large hands wrapped around him, and she lifted and held him in her arms in one smooth motion. He glanced at the place he had just been: a cradle. It was a strange spot to be, but before he could figure out the reason, the woman gently rocked him, her free hand patting his side. Though he still whimpered, her scent¡ªa blend of sweet honey and wildflowers¡ªsomewhat calmed him. The closest thing he could compare it to was the elderflowers that grew along the path to Heaven¡¯s largest hot spring bath. The tiny, white petals were often scattered in the perpetual stream of water, mingling their delicate fragrance with the steam rising into the air. Heaven. His body jerked up in sudden realization, heart racing as he became acutely aware of his current state. Valrion, the Son of the King of Heaven, born to be the heir of Heaven. The weight of the truth crashed down on him all at once. Memories rushed in like a landslide, each bringing a sharp pang that throbbed in his head. Rays of light poured down on the day he was born, casting a golden glow to celebrate his arrival. Never-ending laughter rang out loud as he grew up alongside his younger sister and the other gods around their age. The nods of approval the elders gave him every time he walked past them¡ªsilent affirmation of his future role. ¡°As my son, this is your sacred duty from this moment forward.¡± His father¡¯s words always sounded cold, but his gaze held unwavering faith. The Twelve Eidolons sealed within the Vault. His unexpected shortcoming. The disappointed glares he tried to ignore. Those who were powerless to defend him. His father¡¯s decision that cut deep. The apparent misery of his mother and sister. His banishment. The horror of floating alone in the middle of nowhere. A strange warning about his rebirth in Eru and something about reclaiming what he had lost. A scenery of a house with a woman writhing in agony before their collision, and the void engulfing him. [Initializing the Handbook.] Before him, the image reappeared. A third of it overlapped with the woman¡¯s head, but it followed wherever he looked, so he tilted his head sideways to get a better view. The message was identical to the first time he saw it, but it flickered crazily, seemingly unable to sustain its form before vanishing in an instant.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He could only watch when the movement gradually stabilized. The message hung in place for a while before being replaced by a continuous sequence of sentences. [Light and shadow answer your call.] [A path toward reformation unfolds before you.] [What you choose along it will shape the legacy you seek.] [Main Quest unlocked: Capture the Twelve Eidolons] [Main Quest unlocked: A New Era] [Main Quest unlocked: The Fate of Heaven] His heart pounded louder against his chest¡ªa sound so strong it throbbed in his ears. The pressure in his head was far more intense than when he had been adrift in the cosmos, and it only heightened when a new image appeared before him. In contrast to the previous one, where each message was encased in a display large enough for just a single sentence, what unfolded now was at least ten times bigger, containing various words and numbers. Four blocks, arranged vertically at the center, immediately drew his attention. Their gray tones stood out against the similarly colored background. [Quests] [Eidolons] [Spells] [Blessings] The last two options were dimmed among them, but of course, [Eidolons] intrigued him the most. He cast his eyes downward on the dark blue circle at the bottom. Inside it, four types of information were laid out neatly. [Level: 1] [EXP: 0/105] [Health: 262/276] [Mana: 23/23] He also noticed [Status: Hungry] positioned on the right of the circle. In the brief moment it took him to process, he identified it as the grumbling in his stomach, but it was the least of his concerns. His gaze finally shifted to the top center of the image, where two lines of text rested on a fading clock symbol. [Tuesday, March 9, 5723] [21:18] March 9, 5723. The last time he had been in Heaven, the year in Eru was 4721. He had traveled a thousand years into the future. A bitter cold pierced through his bones. Shuddering, every nerve of his tingled with a sharp sting, leaving him wide-eyed. Had he died? No¡ªhe didn¡¯t have the memory of dying, nor the sensation of it. Not that he knew exactly what death felt like, but he would have at least felt something. The last thing he remembered was crashing into a woman who was giving birth. Could it be that he had been reincarnated as her newborn child? It seemed the most logical explanation, but was logic even significant here? Thousands of hows and whys filled his mind, but none seemed to capture the essence of his bewilderment, leaving him with just one question: what was he supposed to do now? For starters, what exactly was he reading? Quests? Blessings? All those random letters and numbers? He had known ¡°exp¡± being used for both ¡°expire¡± and ¡°experience¡±. Given how everything was laid out¡ªlike how EXP was listed under the level¡ªhe assumed it must refer to the latter. He would reach level two once his EXP hit 135, but how could he gain it? What would he get from it? Aside from eidolons, the only other things his mind could register were mana and spells¡ª though the latter only if his assumption was correct. [Proceed with Main Quests to unlock Spells.] [Proceed with Main Quests to unlock Blessings.] The messages flashed in the center of his display, smaller than the ones he had seen so far but still readable from his distance. Could it be that gaining EXP was also dependent on completing quests? He also realized how the warnings appeared when he concentrated on [Spells] and [Blessings], as if he were sending a request to know everything about them. Could this thing called the Handbook read his mind and record it? He narrowed his eyes at [Eidolons], as this was what intrigued him the most. Different than before, the time and date were replaced by a box labeled ¡°Eidolons¡± as twelve symmetrical portraits came into view: four per line, divided into three rows. Beneath each picture was a series of question marks, likely placeholders for their names, though he didn¡¯t need them. The faint outlines of shapes inside each box were enough for him to recognize them all¡ªfrom the mightiest dragon to the meekest cervitaur. Show me the quests, he wanted to say, but all that escaped his lips were mewls. As expected, a new section appeared. Just like with [Eidolons], a box labeled ¡°Quests¡± now overlayed the time and date on the display. [Main Quest Capture the Twelve Eidolons (0/12) A New Era The Fate of Heaven] As he focused on each quest, they expanded one by one, revealing the details in the empty space on the right side of the display. [Capture the Twelve Eidolons (0/12) ? This is your chance to redeem yourself. The Twelve Eidolons are now roaming freely across Eru, but you have no idea where or what they¡¯re doing. Find the first lead on their whereabouts.] [A New Era ? You¡¯ve been reborn in Eru. Take time to explore and get familiar with your new environment.] [The Fate of Heaven ? A thousand years have passed since your banishment from Heaven, but you¡¯ll never be able to escape your past. You¡¯re eager to learn about the current state of Heaven.] The friction against his body, the sound and light passing overhead, the tension beneath his skin, the words that rang true to his current life¡ªputting two and two together, he concluded that this was more real than not. He wasn¡¯t imagining things, but could he trust the so-called Handbook? 4 - No Longer God 4 - No Longer God When a god was banished, they were cast into their designated realm with nothing to their name, not even a scrap of clothing. They often found themselves in the wilderness, by the ocean, or in some isolated place far from civilization, if any existed at all. This punishment, marked by shame and deprivation, had been intended by the King to symbolize the simplicity of human existence, which began with a clean slate. Their appearance would mirror who they were in Heaven, but their strength would be that of a mortal. Though some might be granted a power or two for survival¡ªlike how one was sent to a landless planet and given the ability to breathe underwater¡ªeverything would still be considered a demotion from their former life. Valrion may have started with the same fresh start, but unlike them, he wasn¡¯t left alone. An early warning had foretold him of this fate when he was floating in the cosmos. A strange guidance, in the form of a mind-controlled image called ¡°Handbook¡± was to assist him. More importantly, he was tasked with recapturing the Twelve Eidolons¡ªan act of redemption he had considered before his final sentence. Weren¡¯t these too good to be true? He wanted to believe every word he had seen, but what about losing his divinity and being estranged from Heaven? Was the Handbook not a part of that? If a thousand years had passed, this could really be some trick cast by evil entities beyond Heaven¡ªones he wasn¡¯t familiar with, who had come about during those missing times. Then again, perhaps the world had become so advanced that every Eruvian now owned a Handbook? Light and shadow answer your call. He brought to mind one of the latest messages. It sounded like something the gods from Heaven would say, as their teachings often included both light and darkness as examples of duality and balance. If there was good, then there would be evil. If there was life, then there would be death. Neither was better because they existed to support each other. A fleeting sense of relief washed over him when he believed it more to be help from Heaven, only to be swallowed by the uncertainty creeping up his spine the moment he raised his clenched fists and saw, once again, how tiny he was. If the goal was to make him recapture the Twelve Eidolons, why force him to start over as a newborn? Was his father trying to instill the sense of how unforgivable he was so that one grave punishment wasn¡¯t enough, and he had to go through life in Eru the harder way? It wasn¡¯t his father¡¯s character to be cruel for the sake of it, so what was truly going on? Back in Heaven, there were no secrets, except for a few exceptions, like prying into another¡¯s mind without their consent. As though directly asking the universe itself, everything could be known as easily as snapping fingers, without a word spoken or a person met. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn¡¯t do it now. It seemed impossible to find the perfect answer that would satisfy him, but if he had to choose, he would rather cling to the hope that the Handbook was a gift from Heaven and no other source. It was as simple as choosing between positivity and negativity. Of course, he would go with the former. All these worries made his head feel like it was on fire, soon followed by him crying in another burst of exasperation. He didn¡¯t want to lose his composure and stay focused on figuring things out, but the reaction was involuntary. ¡°Oh my, what¡¯s going on?¡± The woman, still holding him, rocked him a little quicker. It just clicked for him that she was speaking in the most spoken language in Eru. This place really was Eru. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s hungry,¡± the man, who had been quiet for a while and was also fluent in the same language, said from somewhere a little further away. Valrion tilted his head to find him, but his neck gave up. ¡°I just fed him an hour ago. Oh, well.¡± The woman tickled his stomach, which felt a little funny. ¡°Does Valrion want to eat?¡± The flow of Valrion¡¯s tears subsided, overthrown by shock. What had he just heard? She smiled. ¡°Our little Valrion has a big appetite.¡± He hadn¡¯t fully processed the situation yet, but he had to confront another reality: his name was still Valrion. This type of thing made him doubt that Heaven and its benevolent nature were behind his current experience. If it was, then his father was just rubbing it in, ensuring he would never forget his old identity for even a day.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The pain in his stomach worsened, turning his noises into snivels. If he could ask for one thing right now, it would be for all the strange emotions to stop. The more he tried to fight them, the more intense they became. Anything he did only seemed to amplify his frustration, trapping him in a prison of distress, and he didn¡¯t want that. ¡°Shh. Come, let¡¯s eat.¡± The woman took a few steps away and slumped down. He spotted a tall post beside her with a white curtain draped around it. She must have been sitting on a bed. Gods didn¡¯t require rest since they could heal themselves at will. Out of curiosity, he had once tried creating a bed in his abode. He lay down there for a while, caressing the softness of the sheet covering the mattress and feeling it against his skin. It was quite fun that he decided to keep the bed around for longer, changing the design or the amount of pillows every time he felt like it. His favorite shape resembled the one he saw, but the frame was made of pure white stones with pale silver marble swirls throughout. The bedsheet was immaculate, pure white. It was a lovely spot to wind down, especially when placed against the window, facing Heaven¡¯s sun and the Celestial Hall¡¯s tower stretching into the clouds. ¡°My sweet little Valrion,¡± the woman cooed, breaking his reminiscence while unfastening her blouse to feed him. It all happened so fast that he had just realized what she meant by it being his time to eat. Dread was an understatement of what he was currently feeling. This was even worse than when a million divine eyes had judged him while his father read his verdict. He would rather endure that many more times than face whatever this was. In Heaven, consummation wasn¡¯t known. Marriage between gods was rooted in mutual respect and the calling to unite two powers. From the couple¡¯s shared energies, a newborn would first appear in their transcendental realm, where they would act and live as if they were already a family. After about a dozen meetings, the soul would take shape in the physical world. Since gods weren¡¯t born the same way as humans, they were raised differently. He had never experienced being fed by his mother, nor had he ever felt hunger before. When gods consumed food grown in Heaven or replicated human fare, it was always out of desire, not necessity. Who do you think you are, human, doing this to me? Do you want me to turn you into a statue? was what he would have said, but instead, tranquility flowed over him. Unconsciously, he closed his eyes, savoring the slight sweetness in his mouth as the growling in his stomach subsided. The combination of this act and the woman¡¯s scent lulled him back into repose. He didn¡¯t feel any teeth against the woman¡¯s skin. Given his fragile form and inability to speak properly, he must have been only a few months old. Two, perhaps three at most. Mortals would begin to remember most of their lives after age four, as their brains weren¡¯t developed enough to retain lasting memories, while gods typically gained this ability after about two years of human life. Even as a Son of Heaven, he still had to wait a few more human years until he became more attuned to his divinity to learn all about his past. Had it been his father¡¯s choice to make him conscious as a newborn Eruvian so early? To perceive his surroundings at such a tender age felt like living in hell on its own. ¡°You¡¯re a handsome baby.¡± The woman tucked the cloth underneath his chin. ¡°I¡¯m the most fortunate mother.¡± Mother. With half-lidded eyes, he studied the woman who claimed to be his mother. Her brown hair was braided and draped over one shoulder. She had light green eyes and olive skin, all complemented by a simple beige dress with spiral lacing. She looked nothing like his mother, his sister, or even himself, but that didn¡¯t mean much, as gods could easily shapeshift. She must be the woman he had seen struggling in the final moments before his rebirth. The other two helping her were likely the midwives, and the man standing nearby was probably his father. He was most likely also the one present in this room¡ªafter all, why else would a man be accompanying a woman in her chamber with a baby at this time of night? This room must be where they had all been in that scene. This house, then, was the very one he had crash-landed into. [Personal Quest unlocked: Mother Knows Best] His heart nearly leaped out of his chest¡ªclearly, he wasn¡¯t stable enough to handle another surprise alert. He swore he hadn¡¯t seen any ¡°personal quests¡± before, so he called for the Handbook. It appeared without the initialization message, indicating that it was only needed at the beginning to set everything up. [Level: 1] [EXP: 0/105] [Health: 273/276] [Mana: 23/23] Previously, his health had been 262. Now that he was satiated, it had increased, nearly reaching its maximum, and [Status: Hungry] was also gone. He made a mental note: when hunger set in, it would drop, and logically, it would decrease even faster if he was injured and left untreated. His thoughts then turned to the exclamation mark that had appeared next to [Quests]. [Main Quest Capture the Twelve Eidolons (0/12) A New Era The Fate of Heaven] [Personal Quest Mother Knows Best] He stared at the new addition below. What could this personal quest be about? [Mother Knows Best ? The mother you have in this life is strikingly different from the one you knew in Heaven. She¡¯s a mortal, but a sweet one at that. A desire to understand her more stirs within you.] The Handbook must have been far more advanced than he realized. Not only could it provide him with the information he sought, but it could also give him quests tailored to his innermost wishes. When the image shifted to the main display, his gaze locked onto [Spells] and [Blessings]. So much remained for him to learn about this new life, yet his body seemed to have reached its limit. Unaccustomed to such weariness, it was dragging him into a mindless slumber. Hopefully, he would feel better tomorrow. 5 - Between Eidolons, Mana, and Spells 5 - Between Eidolons, Mana, and Spells The next time Valrion woke, he didn¡¯t cry. His body was stiff, every inch prickling with discomfort like he¡¯d been lying in the wrong position for too long. Instead of panicking, he remained still, staring at the ceiling. A beam of sunlight cut through the room, illuminating the room thoroughly as compared to the scattered lanterns from the night before. The colder weather and the mellifluous chirping of birds signaled that morning had arrived. He moved his fingers and toes absentmindedly, feeling how delicate they were. He was, after all, still a baby. His stomach growled, empty and unsettled. He recognized the hunger for what it was¡ªan irritation he could endure. This awareness must be what kept him from overreacting as he had before. Carefully, he observed the room. Besides the furniture he was already familiar with, nightstands were on each side of the bed. Across from it stood a fireplace, above which mounted a stag¡¯s head, encircled by brown wreaths that clearly needed replacing. Next to the fireplace was a two-door wardrobe, while the door to the room was on the opposite side. Behind the cradle, a window sat with a shelf underneath¡ªlikely the source of the morning sun. Handbook, he called, and the image appeared effortlessly. [Level: 1] [EXP: 0/105] [Health: 264/276] [Mana: 23/23] [Wednesday, March 10, 5723] [07:02] Thankfully, only one night had passed, not a few thousand more. Aside from another [Status: Hungry] and his health that had decreased by a dozen points because of the obvious, nothing seemed to have changed from last time. He navigated to [Quests] and read through all the same descriptions. The [Eidolons] tab was empty, and he still couldn¡¯t access [Spells] or [Blessings]. Now that his chain of thoughts was clearer, his eyes fixated on the twenty-three mana points he had gained. He didn¡¯t know the value of each number, but it wasn¡¯t the main problem. Mana was primordial energy that had coexisted with the twelve elemental powers since the dawn of Eru¡¯s creation, allowing chosen humans to harness one element each. Every elemental wielder had a mana reserve that would drain with consumption and recharge during rest. The exact amount, like the figure he saw in the Handbook, was something they couldn¡¯t know. Lethargy would be the clearest indicator of depletion. It typically manifested when humans first discovered their elemental abilities after the age of thirteen. Usually, it occurred through accidents, such as using the power in an emergency or when emotions clouded their judgment. The process often caught them off guard, leaving them struggling to control their newfound abilities during the first few months. While eidolons were more adept at mastering their respective elements, gods who weren¡¯t bound by any mortal laws were also capable of wielding them to some degree. Valrion would not forget what it felt like to possess those powers, especially his own divinity¡ªthe knowing was just there, like the warmth of his beating heart or the certainty that he would be alive tomorrow. Back in Heaven, as a young child who could barely run, he woke up one day and felt something had changed within him. Throughout the day, his palms itched, urging him to act, though he wasn¡¯t sure how. While playing with his friends by the lake near the Assembly Hall, where all the workshops were located, he felt compelled to lift all the fish from the water. He did so without hesitation, startling his friends and making half of them cry, including Asterra. He was terrified when so many gods rushed out of the hall, fearing he would be taken to his father and punished severely. At that time, he had heard of one of his friends being shown Hell, and he hadn¡¯t been there, so his paranoia was reasonable. Confident of his impending doom, he was shocked when they instead congratulated him. ¡°Of course, the Son of God would awaken his power so early,¡± one of them had said. There was always an elemental power when there was mana, so why couldn¡¯t he sense anything within himself? Was it because he had just woken up? Was he too young and not supposed to have it yet? Or had a thousand years altered Eru so much that it disrupted a rule that had existed since the beginning of time? Regardless of the cause, mana had to exist for a reason.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Spells were debatable. If eidolons hadn¡¯t been involved, he wouldn¡¯t have gotten the idea of what they could possibly mean: words spoken between eidolons to invoke greater elemental powers. Many who had heard of spells had chanted them out of curiosity, but none had produced any effect. This suggested that only eidolons were capable of using them. Most gods, including him, never gave them much thought. They were nothing more than fancy words, perhaps meant to make eidolons seem more daunting in battle. Even celestial children could create their own spells and chant them for fun, but his disdain had no room here. Just like mana, spells wouldn¡¯t be in the Handbook without serving a purpose. His best guess was simple: since he was tasked with capturing the Twelve Eidolons, he would, in one way or another, be allowed to borrow their powers, including their spells. That would be too convenient for a fallen god, so his second guess was eidolons had changed Eru so much that all elemental wielders could now use spells based on their elemental powers. [Blessings] remained the biggest mystery, but he must focus on what he was more certain of: that mana, [Spells], and [Eidolons] were connected to one another. As far back as he could remember, humans had never gained their elemental power through other means, such as dreams, meditation, or constant prayers. Many had spent years wishing to be bestowed with one, but it would never happen unless they were meant to have it. It could be different for him since the seed¡ªthe mana in his core¡ªhad already been planted. So, what would be his next move? He could do nothing and wait for future guidance, or he could stop theorizing, start taking action, and get immediate results, whether he would like them or not. In the process, he might break objects around him. He didn¡¯t know the state of this world or if his conduct would raise undesirable suspicion. Injuring himself was also a risk, but it was a price he was willing to pay. He might even lose the Handbook, but he wouldn¡¯t know the exact consequences unless he tried. This would have been much easier if he had been aware three years later when he could already walk and speak fluently. He could have simply interrogated his parents or the next person he met. There would be a million what-ifs if he kept searching for them, so there was no point in mourning his fate without taking action to change it. He closed his eyes, and an element came to mind: ice. It was one of the most common powers, though he must be honest¡ªhis choice was likely influenced by the fact that it had been one of his most frequently used elements in the past. ¡°The reason you like using ice is because you enjoy seeing people get frozen,¡± Asterra had called him out on that a few times when they were young, and she was pretty much right. Watching his sparring partners freeze mid-swing, powerless to break free from his superior skills, had always been one of the highlights of his childhood. Back then, he would cackle, sometimes even ignoring those who begged him to free their friends until his juvenile mind was satisfied. Now, in this mortal body, he was limited, so he resorted to using his imagination. First, he imagined the tips of his fingers growing cold and numb. He didn¡¯t expect to instantly freeze an object nearby and melt it at will¡ªeven a newborn go wasn¡¯t able to do that¡ªbut at the very least, he hoped to sense some proof that an element was present. Perhaps a wispy mist would form around him, leaving a palpable trail. A second passed, then two, and a dozen more, yet he felt nothing¡ªnot even the slightest tickle from a passing breeze. He opened his eyes, observing the unchanged surroundings, and heaved a sigh. He might as well try a spell, but he needed to play it safe. He recalled a low-tier healing one. If it worked, his mana would decrease¡ªperhaps a lot, considering his age¡ªwhile his overall health would increase. Maybe his growth would even accelerate, causing his hair and teeth to suddenly sprout. Nesu, he began. [Proceed with Main Quests to unlock Spells.] For once, he hit the mark, or was it more like half it? It detected an eidolon spell as part of [Spells], but he should try it again once he discovered his elemental power. His mana point didn¡¯t budge, signifying that the spell had no impact on anything other than triggering the message. However, the fact that it showed up after saying an eidolon spell should mean that they were indeed dependent on one another. He must capture his first eidolon before being able to use their respective elemental spells. ¡°Good morning, Valrion!¡± It startled him when a woman, younger and more petite than his mother with a golden-brown complexion, appeared beside him with a grin. As if they were the best of friends, she waved her hands toward him before poking his cheek. The sudden touch of a stranger made him squirm¡ªsomething that didn¡¯t happen with his mother, likely due to their maternal bond. Alas, his protests amounted to nothing more than weak gurgles. ¡°Your mother was worried since you didn¡¯t wake up at all during the night. You¡¯re also incredibly calm today. Did you have a nice dream?¡± the woman asked. Quickly after, she picked him up and hummed a slow melody with a voice deeper than his mother¡¯s. In Heaven, there was a golden roundabout that connected the many abodes of gods. At its center stood a pavement of clouds, where a never-ending choir played, accompanied by unseen instruments. Everyone took turns singing, and he often sat on the stone benches around the area, savoring the harmony. The highlights were when they adapted human-made arrangements and put their own spin on them, creating something unique and, oftentimes, amusing. He might have enjoyed her voice just as much if the woman hadn¡¯t suddenly brought him over to the area next to the cradle, laid him down on a surface firmer than his mattress, and started undressing him. 6 - A Questionable Maid 6 - A Questionable Maid Extreme reactions seemed to follow every time Valrion couldn¡¯t express his disgruntlement freely, so he squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself that he was a newborn in a mortal world. Someone changing his clothes was to be expected. He had observed humans long enough to understand that more embarrassing situations would arise, so he couldn¡¯t afford to overreact whenever he faced the slightest discomfort. Get used to it. You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re not thrown naked in front of a dungeon full of monsters during the coldest winter season, he assured himself. This was one technique his real mother taught him and his sister whenever they complained about something as trivial as creating a human snack that didn¡¯t taste anything like the original. ¡°Aren¡¯t you lucky you were born a god, not one of the demons?¡± Their mother¡¯s intention was to help them see the good things in life. Although it was always annoying to hear at first, he and his sister would eventually sulk for a while, then move on. Later on, a moment of introspection would hit them, and they would realize how foolish they had been. It worked most of the time. Just like now, he managed to control his breathing and calm himself down. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Valrion? Why are you squirming like that? Are you hurt somewhere?¡± the woman asked. She lightly pressed various parts of his body using her two fingers, but just for less than a minute. Since he didn¡¯t react to the touch, she must have realized that he wasn¡¯t in any physical pain. Right after, she pulled away, and he heard her dip and squeeze something into the water, followed by the soft drip of liquid. He glanced down between his tiny, spread legs to see a cloth in her hands and a basin beneath him. When she returned to his side, she pressed the warm cloth against his forehead and gently swept it across. Aside from eating, this was another pleasant experience he had encountered in this world, so he allowed her to continue wiping the rest of his face. After she cleaned his eyes, he could see the woman clearly. Her hair, a shade darker than his mother¡¯s, was pinned into a sleek bun, and her skin tone was slightly deeper. Her smile revealed round cheeks that made her face seem more vibrant. She wore a plain, long dark green dress¡ªonly different in color from the the one his mother had worn¡ªbut the most obvious sign of her identity was the white apron tied around her waist. Unless having maids was the norm, his new family must be fairly well-to-do. As far as he could tell, that seemed to be the case since his last memory before this life appeared to align with the reality he was experiencing. The house he was in¡ªsupposedly this house¡ªwas definitely more grand than the others in the area, and that required wealth. ¡°You¡¯re so well-behaved today. What a smart child,¡± the woman gushed, applying oil from his neck to his legs after she was done wiping. Its lavender scent was so pungent that it remained just as strong even after she dressed him in a fresh tunic. She didn¡¯t say anything more as she returned him to the cradle and left him alone for the first time. Surrounded by the slats, he could barely make out her figure as she carried the basin and walked past him. It was safe to assume she was heading outside with his used clothes and the rest of the dirty items. Being free like this, he could finally continue with his mission. Spells didn¡¯t work outright, but that didn¡¯t mean he would give up experimenting with the elements themselves. This time, he chose a non-offensive element: order. The imagination began with the petrification of the maid from earlier, just as she walked back into the room. She would be mortified, unable to scream since he had silenced her as well. The spell would last a full minute before she collapsed to her knees, trembling and confused. He couldn¡¯t entertain such an idea and snickered instead, opening his eyes after just a few seconds. First, he didn¡¯t actually have the heart to do something like that to an innocent maid. Second, order was one of the rarest elements to possess, and what had crossed his mind would require a medium-level expertise. Given how things had gone so far, he was unlikely to receive something so powerful. What about wind? He could try summoning a breeze to ruffle the curtain around the bedposts. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for leaving you behind, Valrion!¡± the woman from before suddenly exclaimed, and he wished goodbye to his super short alone time. Within seconds, her face hovered above him. He looked into her eyes, causing her to giggle when nothing was hilarious about the situation. One ridiculous human trait was they quickly became deeply attached to the most frivolous matters. Most would laugh at acts they deemed ¡°funny¡± or ¡°adorable¡±, even if they had seen something similar before. They would cry when insulted, behaving like the whole world was against them despite knowing they would eventually survive. They blushed at random compliments and overanalyzed others¡¯ opinions, mindlessly giving people the power to judge them.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Having witnessed it all before, he had never cared much about their antics, but strangely enough, he enjoyed seeing the woman¡¯s reaction. He raised his hand, making her clasp it and softly squeeze his fingers. When he squeezed her in return, she widened her eyes and flashed the widest grin anyone had ever shown him. ¡°You¡¯re so cute!¡± she said. And you¡¯re one silly mortal, he thought. He was certain his displeasure was shown on his face, but she ended up squealing with excitement. It started to feel too much being stared at incessantly, so he decided to stop indulging her by glancing aside. That didn¡¯t deter her from proceeding to poke his nose, trace his cheeks, and comb her fingers through his hair. He thought he was bald, but he knew some newborns could already grow full heads of hair in their early months. He wondered what color his hair would be. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t gotten a good look at his father. The woman suddenly grasped his hands and lifted them. As she sang a joyful melody, she turned one hand upward while the other fell, alternating the movements in synchronization with the music. She bounced her body and shoulders with each shift as if they were dancing together. If this were Heaven, she would have been reprimanded by all the guards and ordered to stay at least twenty meters away from him. Raising her voice so loudly and touching him so unnecessarily¡ªexcept for his parents and younger sister, no one dared to do this, not when he was a newborn, and certainly not when he was fully grown. Though there was no written rule forbidding it, the other gods unanimously agreed on one thing: the King of Heaven¡¯s family deserved the utmost respect. His real mother enjoyed spending time with the other female gods, always carrying him with her when he was too young to be on his own. They would wander through gardens of golden statues and floating feathers, lakes of honey milk and spring water, or visit neighboring abodes. She would include him in her close-knit gatherings, but the other gods would watch him from a distance, silently acknowledging their status differences. When hanging out with his friends, they would feel remorseful if they accidentally bumped into him and immediately apologize. Even during public celebrations like the birth of a new god, where he could dance with anyone he wanted, his younger sister would be the only one bold enough to tug at his robe, but even she would never dare to do more. He had become so accustomed to such treatment that he wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about this mortal woman. It wouldn¡¯t be just her¡ªfrom now on, more and more people would treat him the same way. He wasn¡¯t thrilled by the idea, but he didn¡¯t loathe it either. If anything, it seemed to stir something within him that he had never felt before. At one point, the woman grazed his lips, and he took the opportunity to bite her forefinger. Instead of being startled, she playfully remarked, ¡°Ouch.¡± Then she gasped as if remembering something before leaving his side. A few seconds later, she returned, carrying a white cloth with knotted ends. She handed it to him, and he stared at it, dumbfounded. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Valrion?¡± She looked surprised. ¡°Did you forget? You like to suck on it.¡± His brows furrowed. Did he hear it right? Did she imply that he enjoyed biting down on a cloth that, no matter how often it had been washed, would still have traces of dirt on it? If this was common in Eru, then he probably forgot it on purpose. Of course, his distress turned into weak whimpers instead of curses. It was the wrong move because the moment he opened his mouth, she slid the knotted end inside. Disgusting, was his first reaction, but his second was to cease protesting and chew on the cloth. The feeling reminded him of when his mortal mother fed him, which would always be humiliating to recall, but the comparison came naturally. He wriggled his arms, trying to resist the soothing comfort. As always, he lost control of his own body. ¡°Aww, poor baby, you look hungry,¡± the woman announced after placing her hand on his stomach. She must have felt the growling. ¡°Your mother¡¯s still busy with something, so please wait a little longer, all right? Octavia is here with you.¡± So, Octavia was her name. She must have been born in the tenth month¡ªunless her parents had chosen the name randomly. He wondered if it was also them who had taught her to give a cloth to a baby as a toy rather than something else, whatever that would be in this era. [Personal Quest unlocked: The First Attendant] He should have gotten used to an image box revealing itself without warning, but it still startled him each time. It was another personal question, so he looked for the exclamation mark in the Handbook. [The First Attendant ? You have taken a liking to Octavia, the first housekeeper you have met in your family. You want to learn more about her background, perhaps her family.] The funniest part was that he wouldn¡¯t describe what he felt toward Octavia as ¡°liking¡±. In fact, he had criticized everything about her, even complaining that it wasn¡¯t his mother who was tending to him. Also, why didn¡¯t he have any personal quests about his parents? Of all the people in this new life, he should have been the most curious about his bloodline. He glared at the woman who was now slightly leaning forward, resting one arm on the slat of the cradle. She no longer looked at him but was gazing to her left, somewhere around the room¡¯s entrance. The sunlight passing by from the window behind the cradle brightened her face. She looked tired after a while, but he might have felt the same if he had been a newborn sitter. Her main job at this moment was to accompany him, a being who couldn¡¯t do anything other than stay alive. She could have spent time dusting the room, but for all he knew, she might have already done that before he woke up. ¡°Octavia, come quick!¡± Suddenly, an older-voiced woman burst into the room and shouted, causing Octavia to jerk upright. ¡°Come on!¡± the woman added, apparently not allowing any response. ¡°Sergius¡¯s about to kick the man out!¡± Octavia raised her brows before chuckling. The announcement sounded urgent, but she seemed more amused than anything. 7 - Martelli with Two L’s 7 - Martelli with Two L¡¯s Octavia took off, following the other woman. For the nth time this morning, Valrion thought he could finally have some privacy to thoroughly explore his elemental power, but once again, Octavia dashed back to him and disrupted his plans. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I forgot you!¡± she shouted, removing the knotted cloth from his mouth before scooping him into her arms. She supported him upright, close to her chest, and walked hastily outside the room. He was confused as to why she had brought him along, but once his irritation faded, he remembered that human babies required constant supervision. They would sleep, wake, cry, move around, and sometimes do something dangerous, like accidentally suffocate, all at random times. With his mouth stuffed, it was no wonder Octavia became flustered. It was ridiculous that Octavia was so excited she forgot about him, but he had witnessed similar cases. Humans would attend fairs or other public events with their families, become so engrossed in themselves since it had been a while since they had fun, and only remember their children after almost reaching home. Though it only happened a handful of times, every single story always made him chuckle. Parents in Heaven might have done that by accident once or twice over their thousands of years of existence, but the difference was that Heaven was safe. Even in the most secluded corners that hadn¡¯t been visited in centuries, the King and his guards would be alerted the moment something was amiss¡ªas if the rivers and hills themselves had eyes. The hallway outside the room was narrow¡ªonly about three adults could fit side by side. Several paintings of gardens and hills in various sizes adorned the walls, masking the absence of tables, potted plants, or other typical decorations people would find in houses. In the olden days, some of these artworks would feature eidolons, but he couldn¡¯t find any in this collection. Upon initial inspection, at least five other rooms existed on the floor, though none should match the size of the master bedroom where he was staying. The house¡¯s overall dimensions seemed larger than they appeared, and the placement of the windows allowed ample light to flood the space. A few steps ahead was the staircase to the ground floor. Carefully, Octavia descended, her free hand resting behind Valrion¡¯s neck to steady him. The hall down here was at least twice as wide as the one upstairs, with a long table beneath the stairs laden with stacks of paper and two unlit lanterns in one corner. Unlike the dullness and lack of activity in the rooms above, he could perceive numerous things around him now¡ªthe crackling of food cooking from somewhere in the back of the house, the dominant scent of cinnamon wafting through the air, and most interestingly, the aggressive chattering of people in the front part of the house. When he focused harder, he could make out his mother¡¯s voice, accompanied by at least two men. Considering that Octavia was called for what sounded like a quarrel between a guy who wanted to kick another one out, he had expected her to bring him there¡ªto the source of the noise. They walked down the hallway and passed by several closed doors on either side before arriving at what must be the common room of the house. His mother sat alone on a long couch, her back to the hallway. He saw her frown clearly when she glanced over her shoulder at him and Octavia. Behind her stood a woman of similar age, her expression showing the same anxiety. Like Octavia, she wore an apron around her waist, but her inner gown was dark blue. A dormant white fireplace made of what appeared to be limestone loomed on the wall beside them. Above it hung a tapestry with a pale yellow background, resembling the warmth of daylight. The design depicted a blacksmith at work¡ªhis powerful arms raising a hammer to strike a glowing piece of metal on an anvil as heat rose from the forge in the background. At the bottom of the tapestry, the word ¡°Martelli¡± was etched in bold, rustic black lettering. It was such an Eruvian thing to deliberately display intricate custom-made tapestries in visible places for visitors to admire, often adding their household names to boost their pride. Most likely, Martelli was his family¡¯s surname, though he didn¡¯t dwell on this as his eyes settled on the two men standing behind an identical couch across from his mother. One was a slightly hunched elderly man dressed in all black with strands of gray and white in his hair. Beside him was a tall young man in his twenties with tanned skin and black hair. The most noticeable difference between them was the sword fastened to the young man¡¯s right hip and the piece of paper he held. Valrion¡¯s best guess was that this guy was the house guard.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. He glanced around, searching for his father, but given the family dynamic he had observed, chances were his father was currently at work. There didn¡¯t appear to be another kid his age either, so he could be an only child. All the constant assuming and wondering were tiring at times, but what other choice did he have? The Handbook itself advised him to learn about his surroundings. ¡°You must be kidding.¡± The young man lifted his gaze from the paper and glared at the old man, whose determined expression seemed forceful given his smaller stature. ¡°You¡¯re not? Are you actually being serious?¡± ¡°Why would I lie?¡± the old man insisted. His tone didn¡¯t imply any hidden meaning. ¡°Doesn¡¯t every weapon bought from the Martelli Workshop come with a certificate of authenticity?¡± The young man snickered while shaking his head. ¡°Old man, old man. If I were you, I would have admitted my bluff and given up already.¡± ¡°What is it, Sergius?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked. Sergius drew out the rest of his laughter as he stared at the paper, then walked over and handed it to Valrion¡¯s mother. ¡°Look at how the name on the stamp is spelled.¡± The tension in her face faltered after reading the paper. Chuckling, she muttered, ¡°I see.¡± Sergius took the paper and gave it to the maid behind the woman. ¡°Read it, Fina.¡± The maid grabbed the paper. It required her a bit longer to read before she laughed a tad louder than Valrion¡¯s mother as if intentionally mocking the man. There could be more than two maids working for this house, but from her voice, Valrion was certain she was the one notifying Octavia. ¡°Yeah? What do you see?¡± Sergius asked. ¡°It wasn¡¯t noticeable at first, but you could see it¡¯s missing another ¡®l¡¯,¡± Fina stated. ¡°Oh, really? We might be wrong, though.¡± Sergius shot a glare at the man, whose gaze had already dropped to the ground. He moved toward Octavia, but instead of giving away the paper, he held it in front of her face. It was considerate of him, considering both Octavia¡¯s hands were occupied with carrying a baby. Repressing her laughter, Octavia said, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s missing another ¡®l¡¯.¡± ¡°Is that so? Hmm, how strange. I noticed it, the lady of the house noticed it, the two maids noticed it¡ª¡± Sergius swung the paper to the side, holding it in front of Valrion. ¡°¡ªI¡¯m sure even a baby would notice it as well.¡± It was only about five seconds of reading time, but Valrion managed to get the necessary information: a certificate of authentication, stamped with a bright red hammer and avail symbol and ¡°Marteli Workshop¡± added underneath. Comparing it to the name on the tapestry above the fireplace, Sergius wasn¡¯t wrong. Even the most gullible person in Eru would see how it needed another ¡°l¡±. The workshop was located in Savio, under the Kingdom of Luxellum¡ªa kingdom he had never heard about before, but this shouldn¡¯t be surprising considering a millennium had passed. This sword was considered A-grade and cost 2,400 nota, which seemed to be the kingdom¡¯s currency. The old Eru he knew didn¡¯t have its own currency and primarily used gold, silver, and copper coins for transactions. Once again, it was another new thing for him to memorize. [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +20] The thrill he felt upon seeing EXP was indescribable. Any progress, particularly regarding the main quests, was exactly what he had been hoping for. He wasn¡¯t sure what was going on in the room, but he paid no attention to Sergius, who had returned to scold the elderly man. Checking the Handbook was his priority. [Level: 1] [EXP: 20/105] [Health: 261/276] [Mana: 23/23] [A New Era ? It turns out you¡¯re born into a middle-class family that owns the Martelli Workshop. You live in Savio, a town in the Kingdom of Luxellum, but all of this is just surface-level information. There¡¯s much more to this family that you can discover.] The quest¡¯s description was just a summary of what had happened so far, but it didn¡¯t deter him. No matter how he looked at it, he had accomplished something. EXP must really be ¡°experience¡±, and he would earn more points by, to put it simply, living his life to the fullest. He should learn to worry less. Although the question of who was behind the Handbook would always linger in the back of his mind until it was answered, the image had done nothing but guide him so far. ¡°What¡¯s funny? Is it Sergius¡¯s face?¡± Octavia whispered. If not for this, he wouldn¡¯t have realized that the EXP increase had caused him to giggle. ¡°Stop that.¡± Sergius¡¯s voice was more stern than before, prompting Valrion to watch the heated exchange before him again. ¡°That woe-is-me look won¡¯t work on anyone in this house. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re so old that you¡¯re just a step away from your deathbed. You aren¡¯t getting a single coin from us. Please leave and never show your face again. Do it when I¡¯m still polite, Sir.¡± The elderly man cast an irritated look at Valrion¡¯s mother and tried to snatch the paper from Sergius¡¯s hand, but Sergius quickly pulled it up and hid it behind his back. If the difference in their ages weren¡¯t so obvious from their outward appearances, it would look like Sergius was poking fun at a child. ¡°What now?¡± the elderly man grumbled, his face contorted in a scowl as he glared at Sergius. 8 - The First Element 8 - The First Element ¡°I¡¯m keeping this paper,¡± Sergius said, waving the certificate as if to provoke a reaction. ¡°What are you going to do with it? Reporting me to the city guards?¡± the elderly man asked. ¡°So you¡¯re aware of that possibility, yet you still dared to come here with such a flawed plan?¡± Sergius rolled his eyes. ¡°But that¡¯s not it. The guards won¡¯t care about something like this, and you aren¡¯t that important, Sir. I just want to show this to the blacksmiths at the workshop so we can have a laugh about it.¡± The elderly man paused before scoffing and walking past Sergius. ¡°Just do whatever you want.¡± ¡°Wow, it¡¯s always the one at fault who acts like the victim.¡± Sergius turned around and reached the door faster due to his longer legs. He opened it just enough for the elderly man to step out, then slammed it shut right after. ¡°What actually happened?¡± Octavia asked, not wasting a second. She sidled up to the couch where Valrion¡¯s mother was sitting and handed the child to her. Valrion couldn¡¯t stop gushing over how nice his mother smelled. She must have used a different oil than the one given to him. Though both were predominantly floral, hers was bolder and less sweet¡ªoverall, the scent was more complex without overpowering. It wouldn¡¯t be surprising if it cost at least twice as much as his. ¡°That man claimed to have bought a sword from the Martelli Workshop last week, but it split in half after just a few uses,¡± Sergius began. ¡°He came with just this piece of paper, demanding twelve hundred nota. I told him to bring this matter to the workshop since this has nothing to do with us, but he acted all righteous, saying, ¡®Let¡¯s not make this complicated. At least I didn¡¯t ask for the full price.¡¯ He lives near the town square, so I asked him to bring us the sword so we could check the original mark, but he claimed he had thrown it in the lake. The only evidence he has is this fake certificate. All of this at seven in the morning!¡± Except for Octavia, the women in the room laughed at Sergius¡¯ rant. Even Valrion found the story amusing, though not enough to join them. ¡°But Fina said you would kick the guy out,¡± Octavia muttered. ¡°In my defense, that was what I genuinely thought would happen,¡± Fina explained. ¡°Octavia, that old man is pushing seventy. He would die if I kicked him. It isn¡¯t my thing to kill someone,¡± Sergius said, looking at Octavia, then Fina. ¡°Dragging him outside would be the more appropriate phrasing.¡± ¡°Why do you look disappointed, Octavia?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked, stifling her laughter. Valrion glanced at the maid still standing beside them. She did pout a little, and he could somewhat surmise her thought: I didn¡¯t come all the way here just to get less than what I was promised! The energy between everyone in this room felt lovely. Octavia, Fina, and Sergius interacted like siblings, while his mother allowed them to banter freely despite being their employer. He had seen the lords and ladies of the house mistreating their workers, even physically taunting them. It mostly happened in wealthier households with parents who couldn¡¯t raise their children properly, so perhaps that was the main reason. His parents presumably were more understanding of those beneath them because they weren¡¯t too rich to become arrogant. This mortal way of living made him chortle. ¡°Aww, look at you laughing.¡± His mother pressed his nose with her forefinger, briefly causing the area to itch. He shook his head, hoping to ease the feeling, but his mother must have found it endearing since she ended up pinching his cheek and hugging him. This must be the equivalent of Octavia squealing about how adorable he was. ¡°He¡¯s been in a good mood today. Been laughing since he got here,¡± Octavia said. ¡°Maybe because of Sergius¡¯ stupid face.¡± Sergius frowned. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Come help me prepare breakfast, Octavia. It¡¯s past Lady Adrianna¡¯s breakfast time,¡± Fina urged before leaving the common room. It was Valrion¡¯s first time hearing his mother¡¯s name, which was lovely. ¡°I hope nothing gets burned, though your burned food would still taste nice,¡± Octavia muttered, following after the tittering older woman. ¡°Do you need something else from me?¡± Sergius asked Valrion¡¯s mother. ¡°All good. I¡¯ll go back to my room to feed Valrion,¡± she said. ¡°All right.¡± Sergius nodded before going in the same direction as the two maids. With a heavy, deep breath, Valrion¡¯s mother stood up and carried him inside the house. As they made their way back, Valrion could faintly hear the sounds of the three workers near the kitchen. Sergius¡¯s cackle bounced through the hall, gradually fading as Valrion reached his bedroom.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. His mother sat down on the edge of the bed. Settling into the same position as the night before, she began to feed him while humming a similar melody as what Octavia did. It must be a famous lullaby in Eru. In terms of singing, he must admit that Octavia sounded better, but his mother was unmatched when it came to handling him, even down to the hand placement and how she didn¡¯t caress him just as much. About fifteen minutes later, he felt stuffed to the brim and pulled away, prompting his mother to tidy up, rise from the ground, and head downstairs again. He thought she would take him to the kitchen to join the others, but instead, she turned before reaching it and stepped out a side door. What lay before him was a clearer version of his last memory before being reborn: his two-story house perched on a hill, surrounded by hedges. It overlooked others scattered across the land, with patches of vibrant green and gravel roads between them, creating a sense of space and tranquility. [Wednesday, March 10, 5723] [07:44] Seasons varied across different parts of Eru, but the most populated continents marked March as the start of spring. What was before him confirmed it. The air was fresh, carrying the sweet scent of budding trees and blooming wildflowers in a riot of colors, dotting the pathways that stretched into the distance. Ahead, the neighborhood grew denser, with buildings clustered together, and their rooftops formed a patchwork against the skyline. On the left side of the town, vast terrain extended, with groves and rivers dispersed throughout. If it weren¡¯t for the rows of windmills standing on the horizon, he wouldn¡¯t have known that the area was meant for cultivation. He glanced over his mother¡¯s shoulder, staring at the white brick walls and roofs of crimson clay tiles, before surveying the area again. His memory had skewed one detail¡ªhis house wasn¡¯t the only one with two stories. There was even one across the street with its second floor under construction. His just appeared to have a more refined design and color scheme. There were no apparent signs of the Twelve Eidolons. No massive creatures soared over the city to assert their dominance, nor were there any buildings designed to embody a particular elemental affinity. Everything seemed as though they had never existed at all, but it was too soon to make any conclusions. Valrion¡¯s family might be living in the countryside, while the eidolons could be somewhere with more crowds, perhaps the capital of Luxellum. Valrion yawned before nestling his head against his mother¡¯s chest, and she gently stroked his hair. It was nice being outside like this¡ªno one made a sound except for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. Every muscle in his body relaxed with contentment, and he began chewing his thumb, which gave him the same joy as when he sucked on that cloth Octavia gave him. Was it weird? He didn¡¯t care much. At this moment, he could easily drift back to sleep. ¡°Boo!¡± Out of nowhere, Sergius showed up, wide-eyed face appearing right in front of Valrion. The combination startled Valrion so much that he yelped, which sounded like he was about to cry, but he gurgled instead. Who would have thought such a thing would give him the same heart palpation as when the Handbook bombarded with a dozen foreign messages? He knew the answer: his brand-new baby body just wasn¡¯t ready for the sudden surge of adrenaline. Why was he angry? He had the answer, too: he had been lost in a peaceful moment, basking in the scenery and not thinking about the Handbook, the Twelve Eidolons, his banishment, or anything like that for the first time since forever¡ªand it was ruined. Now, once again, he lamented how his godself wouldn¡¯t have reacted this way since he would have sensed when someone was nearby. ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± His mother slapped Sergius¡¯s arm with her free hand. The man laughed as if scaring babies was his greatest source of joy. In the split second that Sergius''s face came closer than it had in the common room, he memorized it well: a face a little darker than the rest of his skin, brown eyes, and thick eyebrows. He swore that when he got older, and if Sergius was still around, he would get his revenge by shouting even louder while the man was fast asleep. Better yet, he would tear down Sergius¡¯s roof when he regained his divinity. ¡°The tax collector came to visit. What a busy day for you.¡± Sergius lifted a piece of paper larger than the certificate from before, and it fluttered in the gentle breeze. ¡°Is it already time?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked, fixing the grip around her son¡¯s body. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s been three months.¡± ¡°Put it in the study. I¡¯ll check it in a few minutes.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Sergius waved the paper. ¡°Fifteen minutes of feeding, then fifteen minutes of sunbathing. Valrion has more nutrition than half the people in Gizio.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t say stuff¡ª¡± Before Valrion¡¯s mother could finish her sentence, an object plummeted from the sky and struck Valrion on the head with a sharp thud. The impact left him reeling, and he couldn¡¯t see what had hit him as pain exploded in his skull. He writhed, wailing uncontrollably. This time, he couldn¡¯t suppress the overwhelming agony. The top of his head felt like it was stabbed by a scorching sword, leaving a searing jolt. [Health -72] [You have unlocked Elemental Power: Fire] [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +120] [Level 1 > Level 2] [Health increased to 281] [Mana increased to 25] Fire elemental power? Reaching level two? Did he gain so much EXP because he reached a milestone? Everything happened so quickly, too unexpectedly for his mind to process, especially with all his senses consumed by the soreness in his head. ¡°What¡ª¡± His mother couldn¡¯t form a proper sentence. Her breathing came in erratic bursts, caught between screams, gasps for air, and frantic calls for Sergius. It took Valrion a moment to realize another shriek was cutting through his own¡ªsomeone behind him. It was Sergius. Still sobbing, Valrion turned around, his vision distorted by tears. Sergius¡¯s right arm was engulfed in red flames, already consuming nearly half of the tax paper in his grip. The fire wasn¡¯t massive¡ªit was no more than five inches in height¡ªbut it burned with a ferocity poised to spread further. He flapped his arm, trying to douse them, but it had little effect. Desperate, he bolted to the back of the house, leaving Valrion and his mother in a dazed stupor. 9 - A Conversation About Fire 9 - A Conversation About Fire Fire began with a single spark, but once ignited, it spread uncontrollably, consuming everything in its path without distinction¡ªhomes, forests, and even lives. Its intense heat scorched all it touched while its smoke choked the air, often leaving nothing but blackened remnants and permanent scars. The worst part of the aftermath was the lingering, unbearable scent of burning structures. Due to its catastrophic nature, Valrion had always despised fire more than any of the other twelve elements in Eru. To him, fire was insidious¡ªan ugly power that made thunder benevolent in comparison. It was everything the serene calm of ice was not and everything that even earth tried to run away from. ¡°If smoke from fire could kill someone by suffocating, the same could be said about drowning underwater,¡± Erilos, one of Valrion¡¯s closest friends who was just a little older than him, had once stated. They were in their early teens then, eating peaches while sitting under the trees on Skyward Hill after finishing their daily training. Though the name didn¡¯t suggest it, the hill was actually an orchard, home to hundreds of thousands of fruit trees. The peaches they had were just one of over two thousand varieties found in Heaven. Its flavor was more tart than sweet, which two of them adored. High above, the view was mesmerizing. The giant sun hung above the Celestial Hall, its radiant golden light pouring down to illuminate every corner of Heaven. Silhouettes of mountains rose in the distance, their peaks veiled by soft clouds, while rivers wound through the valleys, shimmering as they reflected the brilliance of the blue sky. ¡°You¡¯re only saying that because fire is your favorite element,¡± Valrion retorted. ¡°Yet, somehow, you could never win against my ice.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t even win against your fire,¡± Erilos muttered, continuing louder, ¡°Forgive me for talking back, but perhaps you¡¯re prejudiced against fire because it¡¯s the opposite of ice, your favored element.¡± Valrion laughed, glancing at the skinny tree branches above and using an invisible force to drop a peach right into the palm of his hand. ¡°Most of the monsters in Hell are born from fire. We can¡¯t fight fire with fire,¡± he said, biting into his third peach. ¡°Why would we fight fire with fire? No, why would we fight the monsters in Hell in the first place? They can¡¯t tolerate Heaven¡¯s light. We can simply stand in front of them, and they wouldn¡¯t dare take a step.¡± Erilos¡¯ tone was a mix of exhaustion and mirth. ¡°Even if, by some anomalous coincidence, we were to face enemies with fire, all Heaven dwellers would be adept at using ice or water. We might not be as formidable as you or your father, but we should manage.¡± ¡°Oh, I thought of another reason fire isn¡¯t good.¡± Ignoring Erilos¡¯ theory, Valrion swallowed his peach and straightened his back, crossing his legs after folding one of them up for quite a while. ¡°Eruvians always say, ¡®I hope you burn in Hell.¡¯ Not one ever says, ¡®I hope you get drenched in Hell¡¯.¡± ¡°Pfft. I¡¯ll give you that one.¡± Erilos couldn¡¯t contain his amusement at last. ¡°But what about lightning? Some of them say, ¡®I hope lightning strikes you¡¯.¡± ¡°What sometimes follows after lightning strikes?¡± Valrion swung the hand holding the peach. ¡°Fire.¡± ¡°All right, all right. Though, in all fairness, it was the King¡¯s family who filled Hell with fire. Eruvians could only believe in what has existed in this universe and what eidolons have taught them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the whole point! Even the first dwellers of Heaven agreed to predominantly use fire when constructing Hell instead of something more obvious like darkness,¡± Valrion said. ¡°What I¡¯m trying to say is fire is harsh, and ice is gentle. Why do you want to be harsh if you can be gentle?¡± Erilos took a deep breath and released it heavily as if trying to muster as much patience as possible. ¡°I suggest we choose a new topic, Son of Heaven. I don¡¯t think I gained any useful knowledge from this debate.¡± ¡°Come on!¡± Valrion punched his friend¡¯s arm lightly and laughed. Erilos himself chuckled, indicating that he was also just joking around. That juvenile Valrion would have yelled at anyone who had prophesied that, far in the future, he would be banished to Eru. He would have further ridiculed the very idea of being weakened as a newborn, hoping to gain an innate elemental power to survive in the mortal world¡ªonly for it to turn out to be fire.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Should this be additional evidence that his father wanted to greatly punish him? ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother spoke with a shiver as she touched the top of Valrion¡¯s head. He flinched when she grazed where the object had struck him, causing her to pull her arm away immediately. It must have resulted in a huge bump that would take days to heal. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the culprit: a woven basket filled with medium-sized fangs, half of which had spilled onto the ground. The shapes seemed to belong to a species of mammal-like monsters. His endless worry over his new baby form had made him forget that such creatures roamed Eru¡¯s wilderness. He didn¡¯t see any door to a balcony in his room, so the basket must have come from elsewhere. Fina or Octavia could be upstairs and accidentally knocked it over, or maybe it was just the wind. Regardless, unless his family were psychopaths, these dried ingredients had to be for medicinal purposes. ¡°Who¡ªwhat¡ª¡± His mother glanced around, trying to identify the perpetrator. Perhaps the rule that elemental powers would only manifest after age thirteen hadn¡¯t changed. That was likely the only reason she didn¡¯t immediately suspect her own son. Handbook, he called. As soon as it showed up, he tried to find every necessary change. [Level: 2] [EXP: 35/115] [Health: 192/281] [Mana: 22/25] [Status: Injured] [A New Era ? It turns out you¡¯re born into a middle-class family that owns the Martelli Workshop. You live in Savio, a town in the Kingdom of Luxellum, but all of this is just surface-level information. There¡¯s much more to this family that you can discover. ? You¡¯ve unlocked the innate ability to control fire. Now, your task is to learn how to master it.] The quest branched. He thought he would be confused, but it excited him instead. As he read through his new status, he noticed that each level had a higher EXP demand. Level two took 105 EXP in total, and level three needed 115. He doubted the requirement would rise by ten points each time because that would be too predictable, but he should wait and see. Any leftover EXP also seemed to carry over. His health had dipped, but it was expected, given how his head was throbbing with pain. His mana had decreased by three, definitely from the accidental blaze. It was a lot for a flame so small, but it would mean nothing if he had more than a hundred mana. He also needed to figure out whether manifesting elemental energy at such a young age was the new norm. [Spells] remained inaccessible. He was then split between two decisions: trying a low-tier fire spell at the risk of accidentally hurting his mother¡ªthe resulting effect could be ten times worse than what happened to Sergius¡ªor waiting for a better time. But what could be a better time than now, when he was already outdoors? Uru, he said inwardly, succumbing to curiosity. [Proceed with Main Quests to unlock Spells.] A sigh of relief came over him when it didn¡¯t work¡ªfunny how, deep down, he genuinely didn¡¯t want to hurt the woman hugging him. This should be the final confirmation that [Spells] would only be unlocked after he obtained his first eidolon. Determination dawned on him as he realized he had been given the opportunity to wield all twelve elemental powers, though he had no idea how he would apply them or even manage such varying strengths. To begin with, the Twelve Eidolons weren¡¯t exactly friendly to him. This was him worrying about things that would come on their own, so he tried to let it go. Last but not least, he couldn¡¯t help but praise the Handbook for making it all so neat and easy. Though everything was still in the early stages, its guidance proved invaluable, helping him stay on course despite life¡¯s growing complexity. Right after he was done reading and wondering, his mother hurried toward where Sergius had gone. As they approached the backyard of the house, the sounds of Octavia and Fina¡¯s raised voices grew louder. The urgency in their words was unmistakably filled with panic and concern. There, Sergius sat by the well, his legs sprawled out as he was drenched from head to toe. Though the flames had vanished, the man didn¡¯t seem well. He gazed downward, his left hand pressed against his right shoulder as though deliberately hiding the wound. His expression was wretched, contrasting to the one he had worn moments earlier when he scolded the elderly visitor. Beside him, Fina carried a bucket, presumably filled with water from the well, while Octavia gripped the well¡¯s rope. They were watching him in horror. ¡°Octa¡ªplease-please help me,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother pleaded. Upon hearing the words, Octavia snapped her head to the side, let go of the rope, and ran toward the lady of the house. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°His head¡ªa flower pot fell on his head.¡± His mother averted her gaze to Sergius. ¡°Sergius, are you okay? That fire¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Sergius stood up, a little wobbly, but he managed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m fine.¡± Valrion took a moment to assess Sergius¡¯ condition: the fire didn¡¯t spread far, but parts of his shirt were burned to a crisp. Red and blackened marks marred his skin, exposed where his hand didn¡¯t shield. Valrion understood all of this was outside his control and how he had been annoyed with Sergius a minute ago, but guilt still struck him deeply. What Sergius had done to him didn¡¯t deserve to be repaid like this, and his anger now seemed so trivial in comparison. [Personal Quest unlocked: A Right-Hand Man] [A Right-Hand Man ? Your earlier interactions with Sergius left a bitter taste in your mouth, but the last one was technically your fault. He seems to be an important and likable member of your family, so perhaps approaching him with a different mindset next time might help.] Of course, Valrion would get a personal quest about Sergius. 10 - Someone to Blame 10 - Someone to Blame Octavia held Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s hand and stared deep into her eyes. ¡°Take a deep breath, Lady Adrianna. It¡¯s all right. You don¡¯t need to tell me anything. Sergius already explained what happened. Just take a deep breath, okay?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother followed the instruction¡ªinhaling and exhaling a few times¡ªbefore she could finally proceed, ¡°Valrion is also hurt.¡± Octavia took a quick glance at Valrion, who had been quiet for a while, before focusing on his mother again. ¡°Please go to your room. Let Fina patch up Sergius. I¡¯ll fetch some water for a cold compress.¡± ¡°Uh, yes,¡± his mother replied, pressing him tighter against her shoulder. Her chin was lowered, and fear was evident in her face. As soon as she passed through the open doorway to the kitchen, where a long table filled with plates and bowls of food stood in the center, with a hearth and two cauldrons on one side, his mother¡¯s eyes began to water. Using the back of her other hand¡ªthe one not holding him on her back¡ªshe quickly wiped them away. She then sighed and forced a smile, doing her best to appear as normal as possible, even though he was the only one watching. How foolish of him to have forgotten that his current mother was human. Then, it occurred to him: whether mortal or not, a baby¡¯s skull was fragile. He could have died if a heavier object had struck him. It might have been something as small as a flowerpot, but even that could have caused a concussion, leading to a loss of consciousness and permanent brain injury. Even he grimaced at the thought of it. Living as a sad and lonely fallen god was one thing, but living as a sad, lonely, and both mentally and physically impaired fallen god was an entirely different matter. Any loving mother would worry about losing their child. Even his mother in Heaven, who could split mountains in half while lounging with a cup of warm tea, looked as if she would shatter into pieces upon hearing his sentence, let alone a mortal mother and her newborn son. In their room, his mother gently laid him on the changing table beside the cradle, where Octavia had previously cleaned him up. Hesitantly, she parted his hair around the area where he had been struck¡ªit was closer to his forehead than it was to the middle of his head¡ªcareful not to touch the skin. After just a few seconds, she pulled away and simply stood there, watching him with an uneasy glare that hadn¡¯t faded in the slightest. Stop worrying. I¡¯ll live, he wanted to say, but as always, only gurgles came out. If that was the case, then he could at least smile¡ªso he did. He raised his hands toward his mother and laughed. It was clearly fake, but perhaps there wasn¡¯t much of a difference when it came from a baby. She didn¡¯t seem to notice as she smiled back at him and reached out once again to touch his face. He grabbed her forefinger, just like he did with Olivia, and squeezed it gently. The whole act seemed to reassure her, and she gradually looked more relaxed. About a minute later, Octavia entered the room, carrying the same basin and cloth she had used this morning. As before, she placed them below Valrion¡¯s feet. Without a word exchanged, she and Valrion¡¯s mother seemed to understand each other perfectly: Octavia wet and wrung out the cloth, while Valrion¡¯s mother moved to the child, gently touching the areas where it hurt. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look that bad, but we should call the physician if the swelling doesn¡¯t improve tomorrow morning. Be patient, my son,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother cooed, hushing every time Valrion winced. Though he couldn¡¯t feel it himself, he knew a red bump was growing there. ¡°May I?¡± Octavia asked, positioning herself on the opposite side of Valrion¡¯s mother. The latter pulled back, giving Octavia enough space to lean in and place the cloth on the area. The coldness soothed Valrion, relieving the sting. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation, and his mind jumped between many random thoughts. What had happened so far today, how it was only his second day being aware of this new reality, the quests he had read in the Handbook, the words exchanged between the people, the things he would do tomorrow¡ªit traveled here and there until it finally settled on his childhood in Heaven. Like every other child, he would run and play around every structure his eyes fell upon, inevitably injuring himself along the way. A massive willow tree? He would climb it and fall because he hadn¡¯t yet grasped how to levitate. A sword that wasn¡¯t meant to be held by a child? He would steal it from his father¡¯s display and swing it, accidentally slashing his cheek. Each time, the pain was brief, fading as the wound healed on its own. If his father hadn¡¯t kept an eye on him and tattled to his mother, he could have hidden every single one of his mischiefs from everyone. All in all, gods had extreme healing abilities since they were young. Even during great wars, gods could instantly mend their injuries and resume fighting as if they were never down in the first place, causing the battles to continue incessantly. Then, his mind drifted to his fire ability. Whether mortal or god, artisan or warrior, offensive or defensive, all beings in the universe must hone their skills to achieve mastery. Things took time. Even in Heaven, a child who had just learned to revive a wilting flower would never be able to do so as flawlessly as the gardeners who had spent lifetimes tending to the celestial gardens.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. How could he safely practice this destructive power as soon as possible? He couldn¡¯t crawl, so he would be confined to this room or wherever people placed him. He couldn¡¯t speak, so there was no way he could explain his situation or ask for a better setup. Worst of all, he might not be able to aim properly during the first few weeks, and the last thing he needed was to risk burning down the house or hurting someone. ¡°Are we being targeted, Octavia?¡± He opened his eyes and glanced at his mother, who slumped on the edge of the bed, watching him with folded hands on her lap. At first, he assumed she was too scared of losing him. That might have been as true as it could get, but her prolonged dejection and dramatic question now struck him as an exaggeration. ¡°I¡¯m even thinking that maybe my son is the target, but they accidentally got Sergius,¡± his mother added. ¡°If that was the truth, then the perpetrator deserved the worst punishment imaginable,¡± Octavia said, straightening her back to look at Valrion¡¯s mother better. If she had laughed it off, Valrion would have continued thinking his mother was just being paranoid. The fact that she took the assumption seriously caused him to be wary. ¡°Could it be that elderly man?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked. ¡°Not a chance. We¡¯ve seen him around, and we know where he lives. I can try to visit his house tomorrow if that¡¯ll ease your worry.¡± Octavia looked sideways while curling his lips, thinking hard before saying, ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be an evoker. If the government figured us out, they wouldn¡¯t bother to play around by taunting us.¡± ¡°Yeah, I wasn¡¯t thinking of an evoker. Nearly a zero percent chance it would be them,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother agreed. ¡°But it had to come from someone, right?¡± As Octavia went still, Valrion wondered who these evokers were. From the conversation, they seemed to be elemental wielders too, but they were linked to the government¡ªthe kingdom, to be exact. What made them deserving of a special title? Was it that connection they had? A thousand years ago, such individuals would have simply been called ¡°elemental wielders¡± or ¡°elemental users¡±. It was more interesting that his family was at odds with both parties mentioned. They could easily open a workshop, which must be legal since the kingdom taxed them. His mother didn¡¯t seem to mind paying it on time either¡ªshe had sort of confirmed that she did it every three months¡ªso there must be more to the story than this. ¡°I wanted to theorize that maybe Sergius was trying to put on a performance and accidentally hurt himself, but he wouldn¡¯t be that stupid,¡± Octavia broke the silence. ¡°Also, how would he do it? By dipping his shirt in oil and lighting it on fire? I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m not making much of a point.¡± ¡°I have someone in mind,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said. ¡°Who?¡± Octavia asked, sounding like a gasp. Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s eyes darted around. Clearly, she was hesitant to continue, but she eventually managed to say, ¡°Do you remember about last month¡¯s mission?¡± ¡°Last month¡ªwhich one?¡± ¡°The one where my husband refused to fund Dominic¡¯s plan to riot during the Aptitude Test in Volturno. He admitted during the meeting that he didn¡¯t believe in Dominic¡¯s ability to lead the operation and even brought up all the times Dominic had failed. Dominic did succeed more than he failed, but my husband didn¡¯t appreciate it. I can feel there¡¯s been a strain among the group ever since.¡± ¡°Oh, that one,¡± Octavia noted. ¡°Then Sir Cassius ended up funding another team that got caught a day before the operation began in another city.¡± Finally, Valrion heard of his father¡¯s name, but this wasn¡¯t the moment to celebrate. His mind was filled with many questions regarding his family, the strongest ones being: Who exactly were these people? Why were they planning a riot against the government? Were they involved in things they shouldn¡¯t be? ¡°I¡¯ve told him many times that he can¡¯t just criticize people so blatantly to their faces. He said he would try to change, but it¡¯s all talk. I¡¯m certain it¡¯s because he knows they¡¯ll always need his money,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother continued. Octavia acknowledged with a nod. ¡°So you¡¯re saying that Sir Dominic could be behind this.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother released a long sigh, shrugging. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Octavia. It isn¡¯t good to accuse someone of something this serious without a single concrete proof, but this is the first thing that came to my mind. Perhaps I just want to make sense of it. How else would fire suddenly appear like that?¡± ¡°Hmm, yeah. I understand.¡± Octavia¡¯s voice was softer, as if insisting that Valrion¡¯s mother was allowed to have an opinion. ¡°At least, do you know if there¡¯s a fire wielder among his people?¡± ¡°If I knew, that could be the proof to support my theory, but there¡¯s none. Not that I¡¯m aware of, but it¡¯s not like we know every single escapee. I¡¯m sure many of them don¡¯t join the Liberators. Some might not have even heard of us before.¡± The Liberators? Escapees joining their group? Valrion wondered. The simple name suggested they were trying to help elemental wielders escape from the government or the kingdom. Those people were then called escapees, but why did any of these need to happen? What had become of Eru? [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +25] [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +25] [A New Era ? Evoker, Aptitude Tests, escapees, the Liberators¡ªthese terms are unfamiliar to you. Your mother claims that your father is a sponsor of some riots, and they¡¯re part of a group called the Liberators. It seems your family isn¡¯t as ordinary as you once believed. ? Your family talks so casually about wielding elemental power that it¡¯s unlikely they¡¯ll punish you for doing the same. Now, it¡¯s time to find the perfect moment to practice¡ªjust be cautious not to burn anything you shouldn¡¯t.] It was interesting how two quests could be completed simultaneously, even if they were under the same category. In the future, he might have missions like cooking soup for someone and hunting wild boars that had troubled a village. He could tackle both at once, making it an efficient way to gain EXP. If there were more than two? Even better. Not only was the Handbook innovative, but it was also accurate in reflecting his current thoughts. More and more stories unfolded before him. Despite a hint of uncertainty that still resided within him¡ªlike whether he was guided in the right direction¡ªhe couldn¡¯t help but feel a thrill for what the new day might bring. 11 - Cloths and Ointments 11 - Cloths and Ointments ¡°I¡¯m speaking nonsense. Don¡¯t mind me, Octavia,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said, putting the discussion to an end. Octavia touched the cloth on Valrion¡¯s head, likely checking if it had become lukewarm and dry¡ªthough Valrion felt it hadn¡¯t¡ªbefore turning her attention back to his mother. ¡°You should eat. You¡¯ve only had a cup of tea since you woke up.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother straightened her back, pressing her hands against the bed as if preparing to leap. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m a little hungry. What are you making?¡± ¡°Barley porridge, as usual, but we also reheated some leftover beef slices. They will turn bad soon. We can¡¯t use them in the afternoon because we¡¯re already planning to make some stew.¡± ¡°All right, then.¡± His mother stood up with a small hop, which was quite endearing to watch as she seemed to transform into a young maiden again. The thought of eating a delicious meal appeared to fully restore her spirit. It was a nice change, especially considering how tense the atmosphere had been up until then. As his mother approached the cradle and peppered his fingers with kisses, his mind wandered to a time in the future when he could finally try their barley porridge and the various types of meat stored in the kitchen. His baby instincts didn¡¯t make him lose any interest in solid food. It wasn¡¯t that he needed it urgently, but if given the chance, he would prefer to have them right now. Barely ten seconds after his mother walked away, Octavia took the cloth, dipped it into the basin again, and placed it on the same spot. She then went to straighten the bed sheet where his mother had sat for a good minute or two before eventually leaving the room. About ten minutes later, she returned to remove the cloth and, this time, headed out with it and the basin. Throughout the intervals, he did two things: summoning the Handbook, which showed that his health points had increased just by a single point, and thinking hard about how to practice his fire power. If he could walk, he would go to the yard and quietly burn a patch of soil, but clearly, that wasn¡¯t feasible. He glanced around, eventually tilting his head upward to see the fireplace across from his parents¡¯ bed. Though his view was partially obstructed by the cradle¡¯s slats, he knew it was there. A sudden clarity sparked in his mind. Fireplaces were meant to house fires. Given their purpose, they should be the safest practicing medium for someone who could spend ninety percent of their life stuck in their room. Made from materials that could withstand fire, things should work smoothly even if he didn¡¯t aim his fire directly at the center. It might even be okay if he hit the outer edges, but of course, he would try his best to make it go inside. Octavia showed up faster than before, carrying a dark brown cylindrical jar with flared shoulders and a flat top. She stood in her previous spot next to the cradle, lifted the lid, and set it on the slats. Taking a small dollop of what seemed to be an ointment, she gently rubbed it onto his bump. It had a sweet, citrusy scent and was cool to the touch, though not as cold as the wet cloth. All the while, he focused on directing his fire power toward the fireplace. He strained to look in the right direction¡ªarching his spine as much as he could¡ªonly to discover that he hadn¡¯t made any difference. As much as he tried to search for evidence that he almost had it, there wasn¡¯t even a spark of heat. ¡°Don¡¯t twist your head like that.¡± Octavia cupped Valrion¡¯s head in her hand and guided it back into a more natural position. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Are you maybe hurt somewhere else?¡± Remembering the distasteful experience when she touched every part of his body to find out if something had gone wrong, he decided to stop fidgeting. Besides, he could feel the right side of his neck growing stiff. He didn¡¯t want to have an injured head and neck at the same time. There must be a better way to reach the fireplace. Eruvian babies could freely roll around at around six months of age, which should also happen to him. Afterward, he would be able to crawl and stand on his two feet. There was something he could do to speed up the process, so he must follow the rule of ¡°it would happen when it had to happen¡±.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. He shut his eyes, ruminating on how he had never considered the word ¡°impatience¡± to be a gods¡¯ weakness before any of this. A few times, the question would be raised during private studies or social gatherings, and most would bring up their lack of compassion toward mortals. This was especially true among the youngsters who hadn¡¯t explored other realms enough. ¡°We can have anything we want, even create it out of nothing. Our time is infinite. We possess everything mortals don¡¯t,¡± his mother in Heaven had said when she was teaching a class of children once. It was the most concise explanation anyone could give, and he still remembered it to this day. Lack of compassion, impatience, unshaken fearlessness, and other bold traits¡ªall these stemmed from one reason: gods were unlimited. He wasn¡¯t one now, so he must behave. He could complain and throw a tantrum for as long as he wanted, but he wouldn¡¯t get what he wanted as quickly as before. When he opened his eyes, the room was still as bright as it was before. Dust particles floated in the air, visible now in a way they hadn¡¯t been before¡ªthough perhaps it was because he was more aware of his surroundings now. [Wednesday, March 10, 5723] [12:42] [Level: 2] [EXP: 85/115] [Health: 225/281] [Mana: 25/25] One of the most famous proverbs in Eru was ¡°sleep is the best medicine¡±. Valrion would prefer to call it ¡°good¡± since using herbs and performing surgeries were oftentimes necessary and more effective. If there was a true ¡°best¡± one, it would be the healings provided by the radiance elemental wielders. Still, he took a five-hour nap and woke up with his health points increased by around thirty. The cold compress and ointment definitely helped as well. His mana was also restored, which had been expected since it had only dropped by two. A cloth rested on his head. Based on its dryness and stiffness, it must have been there for quite a while. Looking to the side, he saw his mother sleeping soundly on the bed. She was on her side, facing the cradle, with her blanket still neatly rolled at the foot of the mattress. It seemed like she had passed out accidentally, perhaps thinking she would lie down for just a moment, but she ended up never getting up. His stomach grumbled with hunger, but the worst feeling was his parched throat. If he could, he would let the poor woman rest for as long as she needed, but she wouldn¡¯t die from being woken up from an afternoon nap and doing her duty as a mother. He, on the other hand, would suffer if he couldn¡¯t even be hydrated soon. As if his voice were the sound of a winding horn, his mother¡¯s eyes snapped open the instant she heard his cries, and she sat up straight. Like a scene from a play, his father suddenly appeared and sat beside his mother, startling Valrion. Where had his father come from? There were no chairs in the room, so had he been standing in the doorway, waiting for one of them to wake up? Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be at work? His mother must have only been half-awake since she just stared at his father, completely unbothered. Maybe she had gotten used to him showing up out of nowhere like that. His father circled an arm around his mother¡¯s shoulders and kissed the side of her head, and Valrion immediately looked away. That kind of thing was a regular act between mortal couples, but he felt as though he had just barged into someone¡¯s privacy, like watching something he wasn¡¯t meant to. The most romantic thing his parents in Heaven had done was enjoy a meal together in a pavilion above a lake with swans swimming around, where the other gods wouldn¡¯t bother them. Perhaps he could also consider the times they walked side by side on their way to visit someone. He had never seen them hold hands, let alone be physically intimate. It wasn¡¯t that such things were taboo¡ªthey just weren¡¯t the norm and thus were never even spoken about. ¡°Your son¡¯s hungry,¡± his mother stated before standing up. She went to the cradle, removed the cloth on Valrion¡¯s head, picked him up, and sat back on the edge of the bed to feed him. As his father quietly watched them throughout the whole thing, Valrion took the chance to observe his appearance. His hair was pitch black, similar to Sergius¡¯, though this was one of the most common hair colors in Eru. His height was also roughly the same as the guard¡¯s, but his skin tone was closer to his mother¡¯s. The most unique feature his father had was a pair of deep blue eyes. They reminded him of the ones his real father had. ¡°Are you sure he doesn¡¯t need a physician?¡± his father asked after a moment of silence. ¡°The bump looks fine. I¡¯ll keep doing a cold compress and give him an ointment. If anything, I think Sergius is the one who needs it.¡± ¡°I offered, but he refused. He said it¡¯s a waste of money.¡± ¡°He¡¯s always been like that. His burn will leave marks, but they¡¯ll heal if he keeps applying ointments. Let him rest for now. He¡¯ll ask for help if he needs one.¡± ¡°When I checked on him, he kept trying to change the topic to the neighbor who visited you this morning.¡± His mother let out a weak chuckle. ¡°Like I said, he¡¯s always been like that.¡± ¡°Is it okay if I head back to the workshop?¡± his father asked, answering the suspicion that he was supposed to be working. Someone, most likely Octavia, must have gone to the workshop to inform him about the incident and bring him home. ¡°Of course, it¡¯s okay,¡± his mother affirmed. ¡°Are you still going to call Firmus?¡± ¡°I will, but not until the afternoon. He¡¯s always swamped with council work at this hour.¡± ¡°Yeah, I hope he¡¯s available and can bring some sense to this case.¡± Based on this brief exchange, Valrion could deduce that his parents had already discussed the incident before he woke up. Whoever this Firmus person was, he seemed to be a significant figure working for the council, and he would likely be the next to contribute to Valrion¡¯s quests. 12 - An Observant Guest 12 - An Observant Guest ¡°All right. Then, I¡¯ll go.¡± Valrion¡¯s father gave his wife another kiss and patted Valrion¡¯s head before leaving the room for good. Once Valrion¡¯s mother finished feeding him, she placed him back in the cradle. Right after, he couldn¡¯t hold back from relieving himself. His mother didn¡¯t seem to mind at all¡ªshe didn¡¯t laugh nor raise her voice¡ªas she moved him to the changing table. Quickly, she made her way out with the used cloth and basin to fetch a fresh set of everything. The whole ordeal made him blush even harder than in the morning, but this was something natural that would happen to every mortal being at least once a day, so he would have to learn to accept it. Once he was all cleaned up, he was returned to the cradle and drifted off once more, even when his mother was still around. He woke up again around three and five in the afternoon, each time followed by hunger and frantic calling for help. It must have been a newborn trait that drained his energy, but at the same time, he was grateful to skip over many hours of the day. It helped him wait ¡°less¡± to grow up. When he woke up next, the bump on his head throbbed with pain as if it had its own heartbeat. There was also a mild itch, and he was frustrated that his hand couldn¡¯t reach it to scratch. Glancing around, the room was pitch black except for the light coming from the lantern on what must have been the drawer next to the cradle. There didn¡¯t seem to be anyone in the room, so he did what he had to do: he began wailing. It took quite a while for someone to show up¡ªOctavia. Her breathing was heavy, probably from running, and she gripped the edge of the cradle¡¯s slats. ¡°Wait, Valrion, I¡ªare you hungry? Your mother is busy. Wait.¡± She definitely wasn¡¯t behaving normally. From her voice alone, it was as though she was in the middle of finishing a crucial task downstairs and was on a tight deadline. Thankfully, she seemed to have understood his concern. She snatched the jar of ointment that apparently was kept on the changing table and applied some onto his bump. The itch was still there, but at least the icy sensation managed to mask the overall irritation, and he stopped making a ruckus. [Wednesday, March 10, 5723] [19:26] [Level: 2] [EXP: 85/115] [Health: 231/281] [Mana: 25/25] His health had risen by more than thirty points before, but now it was just six. Though [Status: Injured] was still present, he didn¡¯t feel any internal discomfort. Initial treatment had always been crucial and had a significant impact on wound healing, so that must have been the reason. What mattered most was the number that kept improving. Much to his surprise, Octavia scooped him up after putting away the jar. Holding him tightly, she rushed outside the room and stomped down the stairs. It felt like reliving the morning with less light as the wall lanterns replaced the sun. He could also hear chatter in the front area of the house without all the shouting or sarcastic banter. It sounded more like adults sharing stories about their mundane days. As soon as they arrived in the common room, Valrion noticed how everyone he knew was present. His parents sat on the same couch where his mother had been when handling the strange elderly man. Fina stood near the hallway with Sergius, and a male stranger settled on the seat across from his parents. He must be Firmus. The man appeared a decade older than his father due to the heavy bags under his eyes. Though his face lacked any visible wrinkles, he looked as if he hadn¡¯t adequately rested from caring for hundreds of newborns at the same time. His hair was a deep blonde, contrasted with a thin layer of darker stubble on his chin.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It brought Valrion indescribable relief to see Sergius standing upright as usual with his face unharmed. Beneath Sergius¡¯ loose shirt, Valrion noticed thick layers of bandages around his right arm and shoulders. He even smiled when glancing at Valrion, which suggested that there were no ill feelings between them. Valrion felt a strong urge to ask for forgiveness, and he wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about it. It wasn¡¯t that he had never apologized to anyone. It was the opposite¡ªhe knew he had left permanent scars and a single sorry would never be enough. He had never made an irreversible mistake in Heaven¡ªat least not before the release of the Twelve Eidolons. ¡°I¡¯m running out of assumptions,¡± Firmus began, folding his hands between his spread legs. ¡°It could be Dominic, but it could also be Octavia, or even Sergius, trying to extract something from this in the future. I¡¯m not saying this to plant seeds of doubt, but I honestly can¡¯t think of a definitive answer. We lack concrete evidence, so everyone is a suspect, even me.¡± Valrion could sense Octavia flinch at the mention of her name. Looking up, he saw her expression turn bitter. Considering how she had been so far, it seemed she wasn¡¯t someone who could conceal her emotions. Sergius, on the other hand, remained impassive. ¡°The closest probability I can offer is as good as yours,¡± Firmus explained, locking eyes with Valrion¡¯s mother. ¡°To put it simply, it¡¯s fifty-one percent to forty-nine: someone is trying to give you a warning. Most likely, it¡¯s someone connected with the Liberators.¡± I did it. Now, let it go and have a nice day, everyone, Valrion was dying to say. The air in the room was thick with worry. He didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or go insane that these people were worried about a problem he had caused. ¡°Our organization is spread across the world,¡± his father explained. ¡°I won¡¯t single out Dominic. I¡¯ve had my share of bad blood with many people. Just because I had a disagreement with Dominic a month ago doesn¡¯t mean someone from a year ago isn¡¯t taking their revenge now.¡± ¡°Do you have a list of names? I¡¯ll gather some information,¡± Firmus added. Valrion¡¯s father threw a deadpan look at Firmus. ¡°That¡¯ll be a lot.¡± ¡°One I can think about is that guy¡ªwhat¡¯s his name? The one who got banned from the organization for using your money to buy a house instead,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother chimed in. ¡°Oh, that one. Cassius beat him up so badly that he almost died,¡± Firmus corrected, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. ¡°Tiberia,¡± Sergius said. ¡°I remember him. It¡¯s been quite a while, maybe five years ago. Octavia wasn¡¯t even there during that time.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± Octavia asked. The tension faded a little as Sergius brought up the people who weren¡¯t important at all, proven by how everyone in the room laughed at their mere mention. He even recalled how Valrion¡¯s father had once scolded a woman who, out of jealousy over Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s smooth skin, had intentionally recommended bad soap to her. Valrion still hadn¡¯t fully figured out what kind of organization the Liberators were, but from the anecdotes shared by everyone in the room, it seemed that at least half of the members secretly despised each other. It sounded about right when it came to human relationships. As everyone in the room brought up more names and the stories behind them, Valrion¡¯s gaze drifted to the vacant fireplace across the room. The conversation was light-hearted now, but he was certain it would likely heat up again the next day as long the culprit hadn¡¯t been found. He had decided it wouldn¡¯t be the end of the world if his family found out about his elemental power, so the idea that popped into his mind was quite mad. Revealing the truth seemed like the best solution to put an end to their endless theories. It could be the plain view of the fireplace and his deep longing to practice his power, his determination to resolve the issue within his family, his frustration at being unable to act freely, or a combination of all these things, but he knew that the potential rewards of his plan outweighed his hesitation. He glared at the fireplace, and the firewood sparked to life within seconds. A few embers briefly danced in the air, their glow wavering before catching on the dry wood. Slowly, the flames spread, licking at the edges of the logs and filling the room with a comforting warmth. Everyone gasped in unison, hushing up all at once. They exchanged confused glances, eyes darting between one another and the fireplace. All except Firmus. The guest was the only one who caught the hint¡ªhis eyes widened in shock as he stared at Valrion, as though the child were the most precious gem anyone had ever seen. Valrion¡¯s heart raced, bracing for what would happen next, but he kept telling himself that he would be all right. ¡°Is this real?¡± Firmus began, his voice trembling ever so slightly. ¡°Valrion¡ªI think it comes from Valrion.¡± The statement sent all eyes swiveling toward Valrion. 13 - Behind a Name 13 - Behind a Name The best way to describe everyone¡¯s expression toward Valrion was sheer terror¡ªit even came from his mother, which brought sorrow to his heart, making him question whether this was the right decision. When he glanced up, Octavia¡¯s eyes darted around the room as if asking, What should I do? Should I still hold this child or hurl him toward the fireplace? He didn¡¯t expect to feel so small and vulnerable, like a crippled lamb surrounded by hungry wolves, but what was done was done. Firmus had made everyone aware of a possibility no one had considered before: that the newborn son of the family was the fire wielder. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Valrion¡¯s father asked as he stood up. ¡°There¡¯s no way Valrion¡ª¡± ¡°Your face speaks otherwise, Cassius,¡± Firmus interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re also considering it, aren¡¯t you?¡± Another silence settled over the room. Fina covered her mouth with her hand, realizing Firmus¡¯ statement was more true than false. Sergius tilted his head toward the front door, clearly trying to hide his face. Valrion¡¯s father glared at Firmus as if ready to punch him, even though it was clear that Firmus was just as baffled as everyone else. Valrion¡¯s mother had turned, her back now facing the hallway again, while Octavia still wore the same confused expression. ¡°How is that possible? Elemental power would only manifest after the age of thirteen,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked, confirming Valrion¡¯s speculation that this was, indeed, an anomaly. At least there was one thing that hadn¡¯t changed from Eru. ¡°If it was Valrion, why did he light the fireplace? He¡¯s only three months old. He shouldn¡¯t be aware of what to touch. He could have burned something completely random like Sergius again¡ªwait, so was it really him who hurt Sergius?¡± Fina, who hadn¡¯t spoken since Valrion arrived in the common room, finally said. Yet another confirmation of the speculation¡ªthis time regarding his age. Perhaps, in the future, he wouldn¡¯t have to wonder if his initial guess had been correct. So far, it seemed to be the case. ¡°If it was someone seeking revenge on Cassius, why would they light the fireplace instead of something else? I don¡¯t know¡ªmaybe set this whole house on fire?¡± Firmus retorted, causing Fina to shut her mouth in defeat. Based on her last words, she must have already figured out the flaw in her theory. ¡°An elemental power typically manifests when the person is in a dire situation,¡± Sergius said, finally showing his face. Among everyone, he was the only one who didn¡¯t look too bothered. ¡°The fire burned me the moment that basket hit Valrion¡¯s head. Cassius, Adrianna, this might be true.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t¡ªI¡¯m not sure what to say.¡± ¡°We could spend the next few weeks speculating about the perpetrator, interrogating everyone we suspect and risking insulting each one of them, or I could bring some manashards tomorrow and work on something within our reach.¡± Firmus stood up, looking at the couple across from him. His height slightly towered over Valrion¡¯s father despite being much thinner. ¡°Will you give me permission to check Valrion¡¯s mana?¡± A heavy stillness hung in the air once more, followed by another share of glances from everyone in the room as if hoping to draw more words from each other. Valrion had never heard of mana checking before. The elemental wielders he knew would reveal or speak of their powers whenever they chose to, so he couldn¡¯t help but recall the mentions of the evokers, the Liberators, the escapees, and the kingdomThe elemental wielders were treated differently today, but he still couldn¡¯t determine how and why. What were manashards, and how could they be used to measure his mana? Would they be crystal-like, changing colors upon contact with his skin? If his family agreed to Firmus¡¯ request, it would be his first experience of tasting Eru¡¯s advancement after a thousand years. Though he would always be skeptical, the prospect excited him. ¡°All right,¡± Valrion¡¯s father said after a while. Valrion could tell his father was clenching his jaw, and that alone spoke volumes. His father didn¡¯t want to get him involved, but he had to make a wiser choice. Firmus nodded his head in agreement before eyeing everyone in the room. ¡°Regardless of the result, we¡¯ll figure things out, but keep your guard up for now. We can¡¯t afford to let Valrion accidentally burn down the house while everyone¡¯s asleep.¡± [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +25] [A New Era ? Your family doesn¡¯t ridicule your fire power, but they seem to be on edge over the possibility that you¡¯re wielding an elemental power. Is it because you¡¯re too young, and they¡¯re afraid of you losing control, or is there something bigger they¡¯re hiding?] [Level: 2] [EXP: 110/115] [Health: 239/281] [Mana: 23/25] Valrion agreed with the Handbook, although it was an unnecessary acknowledgment since it only recorded his feelings. These doubts were his own. While many of his preliminary beliefs about the new Eru had proven true, a thousand years of history left much to be uncovered. If he were in their position¡ªunaware that a child was actually an old soul¡ªhe would be just as cautious. Another notable detail was his mana. It had decreased by three points when he accidentally blasted Sergius and by two this time. He had initially assumed both fires were of the same intensity, but the one with Sergius might have been stronger as it had been fueled by stress. ¡°I should take my leave then. Tomorrow, I¡¯ll visit around the same time,¡± Firmus said after a moment¡¯s respite. There were exchanges of good evenings, take cares, and other good wishes as Sergius opened the door for the guest to pass through. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Firmus¡¯ departure didn¡¯t change much of the situation. Still glued to the couch, Valrion¡¯s mother buried her face in her hands. Fina hurriedly sat beside her, rubbing her back, while Octavia walked closer, bringing Valrion along. His father remained in the same position as before, and Sergius stood by the door, watching everyone with a neutral look. ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it, Lady Adrianna. Would you like something to drink? How about some hot tea?¡± Fina asked, glancing up at Valrion¡¯s father. ¡°What about you, Sir?¡± ¡°Two cups of chamomile tea would be lovely,¡± he replied. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll prepare it right away.¡± Fina gave Valrion¡¯s mother a gentle tap on the back before getting up and leaving the room. ¡°Ironic, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sergius walked a few steps just to be closer to the group. ¡°If Valrion really is blessed with an elemental power.¡± Valrion¡¯s father sighed before following Fina. It was apparent these people didn¡¯t want him to wield elemental power, but the question remained: why? The more the conversation unfolded, the more puzzled he became. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just being a little dramatic. Don¡¯t mind it,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said at last. As she stood up, she managed to put on a smile¡ªa similar one to what she had when carrying him after being struck by the woven basket. She gestured toward Octavia, signaling the maid to hand over her son. ¡°You should lie down in your room. It¡¯s been quite a day. I¡¯ll bring your tea over,¡± Octavia offered. Valrion would have given the same advice, even if it meant only twenty-four hours of peace before Firmus arrived with the manashards. ¡°Right. Thank you, Octavia,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother muttered before walking away. Although sounding like she was on the brink of collapsing, her embrace around Valrion¡¯s body wasn¡¯t weakened at all. Usually, his mother would feed him while sitting at the corner of the bed. This time, she did so only after propping a pillow against the headboard and leaning back. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing him to finish. She must have been utterly exhausted, and, as out of place as it might have seemed, he felt terrible for constantly needing her care. ¡°Hey.¡± A few minutes later, his mother stirred, her eyes fluttering open as his father spoke. The man carried a cup of what must be the chamomile tea in each hand and placed one on the nightstand to his mother¡¯s right, the one closer to the cradle. ¡°Hi,¡± his mother replied with a strained smile. His father sipped his drink, looking at both him and his mother. ¡°You look troubled. What¡¯s on your mind?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t we all troubled?¡± His mother chuckled, throwing her head back. ¡°Nothing much. I was just thinking about the dream I had before finding out I was pregnant. The one where I visited what looked like a paradise in the sky. That white-haired woman, my guide, was beautiful beyond words.¡± Valrion¡¯s heart skipped a beat. A wish surged within him¡ªthat the person in his mother¡¯s dream was somehow connected to him. A paradise in the sky was one way to describe Heaven, and many of the female gods had white hair. Asterra and his mother were two examples. ¡°The one who said you would have a son and must name him Valrion. A week later, you got pregnant,¡± his father finished the story. If Valrion¡¯s heart had jolted before, now it was racing with excitement. This was the fastest his prayer had ever been answered¡ªthat the dream was indeed connected to him. Generally, gods didn¡¯t meddle in mortal affairs. Like every creature with moral reasoning in the universe, humans had free will. It was within their consciousness to choose kindness or evil, knowing they would be the ones to live through the consequences. However, on rare occasions when humans held deep conviction, gods couldn¡¯t help but fulfill their yearnings. Their problems wouldn¡¯t miraculously be solved. If someone had been robbed, gods wouldn¡¯t simply plant a sack of gold in front of their door. Instead, they might nudge them to meet new people or move to another city¡ªleading them to better opportunities they never could have imagined. This process was called the ¡°crossroads of events¡±. It could come as a whisper within a human¡¯s mind, or, if truly needed, as a dream. Someone from Heaven visiting Valrion¡¯s mother in a dream with a specific message suggested that his rebirth into this family was purposeful. He had hoped the Handbook would keep track of such information, but perhaps it was insufficient. There had been cases where Valrion thought the Handbook should have given him EXP, but nothing happened. ¡°Because of that dream, everyone believed he would be an extraordinary child. I thought he would be a genius¡ªa famous painter or a skillful blacksmith like you,¡± his mother continued. ¡°It never crossed my mind that he would manifest his mana before he could even crawl.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll know soon,¡± his father said. Though his frown was subtle, it was there¡ªhis father seemed to have much more to say but chose to keep it to himself. Perhaps he didn¡¯t want to worry his wife. As expected, Valrion passed out the moment his mother placed him back in the cradle. The long slumber from the night before might have been a result of psychological shock because, over the span of nine hours, he woke up three times¡ªin intervals of three, two, and four hours, respectively. Each time, his mother would wake up to feed him or simply rock him across the room. He wondered why his father kept sleeping while his mother was suffering, but he couldn¡¯t criticize people that easily. Some people needed uninterrupted rest to get through their days, and his father had a full-time job. Who knew how much time it took to travel to the workshop? His mother might have had another occupation on the side, but as far as he knew, she seemed to have more free time to care for the house. Before he knew it, morning had arrived. This time, it was his mother greeting him instead of Octavia, though she had been unable to do so yesterday because of the elderly fraudster. The day followed its usual pattern: his mother cleaned him up, changed his clothes, fed him, placed him back in the cradle, and applied ointment to the bump on his head. [Level: 2] [EXP: 85/115] [Health: 266/281] [Mana: 25/25] [Status: Injured] had gone. Considering how fast he healed, the ointment must have been made with high-quality ingredients. To put it in perspective, if yesterday felt like his skin had been sliced open, today was more like an ant bite sting. The wound should heal completely in two or three days, though he had grown overly focused on numbers, noticing it seemed to increase slower the better he got. He remembered what Sergius had said: how his mother would take him outside and let him soak up the sunlight for fifteen minutes after feeding. That didn¡¯t happen today, and he assumed his mother was afraid another accident might occur. In their minds, there was still a possibility that the fire wielder was an outsider wandering near the house. From daylight to afternoon, his activities consisted of napping, feeding, chewing on the knotted cloth, interacting with his mother or Octavia, who occasionally showed up, and staring at the ceiling. He would never stop being grateful for falling asleep so often, as it kept him from going insane with boredom or counting the hours until Firmus arrived. [Thursday, March 11, 5723] [18:48] It should be anytime now, he thought after waking up in the evening. Just as the Handbook disappeared from his sight, his mother entered the room and took him in her arms. There could be a million reasons for her to bring him outside, but he knew there was only one for now. His heart raced with each step she took down the stairs. Many crucial moments had taken place in the common room, so he expected to be taken there again. Instead, his mother headed toward the kitchen, where everyone in the house was waiting, including Firmus. 14 - Manashards 14 - Manashards The first thing Valrion noticed upon entering the kitchen was that everyone¡¯s gazes were still as distant as they had been the night before. The next thing he took in was the room itself. After being struck by the basket, he hadn¡¯t fully absorbed its layout, as his mother had hurried through it, and his eyes were blurry from tears. Now, he could see everything clearly: a cooking hearth with two cauldrons built into one wall, glowing brighter than the lanterns hanging around the room. Next to the hearth stood a row of cupboards and shelves, while on the opposite side, sacks of grains and vegetables were stored. Adjacent to the kitchen was a doorless dining area with a table in the center and two long benches, enough to seat up to eight people. What deserved a special mention was a large, square counter, upon which lay a folded rug and a small knife. It was positioned too close to the hearth for comfort, especially since it was made of wood. If left unsupervised, he wouldn¡¯t be the one burning the house down, but at the same time, he understood why it was there: to accommodate a brazier that had been set right in the middle of the space. ¡°Should we start the Aptitude Test now?¡± Firmus asked. Everyone had been scattered around the kitchen but quickly gathered closer to the brazier, almost forming a perfect circle. So, the mana testing event was called the Aptitude Test, and his father had been funding groups to prevent these tests from taking place. It seemed, however, that neither his family nor the Liberators were entirely opposed to the idea, as they were now subjecting him to it. The test allowed the government to identify who were elemental wielders and who were not. The Liberators must not have wanted that. Could the escapees be those who fled after being identified as elemental wielders? How did the government treat them? Were they killed on the spot, and was that why his family was so terrified of his elemental power? That couldn¡¯t be the case since there were evokers who seemed to be officially working for the kingdom. What if the escapees were those who didn¡¯t want to be part of the Evokers? Where were the Twelve Eidolons in all of this? Valrion could feel he was almost there¡ªso close to finding the answer¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t ponder for long when Octavia grabbed a burning stick from the hearth and used it to light the brazier before carefully returning it. Red flames erupted, but they weren¡¯t fueled by the usual wood or charcoal. Instead, a collection of pebbles at the bottom glowed with a vibrant blue. Though varying in size, each one was perfectly spherical. They must be manashards, and they were quite a sight to behold. He would spend some time wondering about their origin¡ªwhether they were human-made or had something to do with the eidolons¡ªbut his stomach dropped when Sergius grabbed the knife from the counter and approached him. He had witnessed all kinds of bizarre rituals in Eru, but his mind gravitated toward the worst possible scenario: Sergius was about to cut a piece of his flesh and offer it to the fire. Either the pebbles or the flames would change color. The thought was utterly sickening. After a thousand years, this was how the Eruvians tested mana? It could be his hair instead of his flesh. This family had treated him kindly. His mother was devastated when he developed a minor bump, and his father had been looking anxious, even now. One wound hadn¡¯t been healed yet, so they wouldn¡¯t do something to hurt him severely, would they? But what if they were willing to risk it since this was a one-time thing? ¡°Not you. Let me do it,¡± Valrion¡¯s father announced, stopping Sergius in his tracks. Sergius flipped the knife so the handle would face Valrion¡¯s father and offered it to him. The man walked toward Valrion and his mother, guiding them closer to the brazier. She took two small steps forward until the distance between them was almost nonexistent. The flames were low, reaching only an inch above the mouth of the container, so no one would get burned as long as they weren¡¯t careless. His father slightly furrowed his brows as he grabbed Valrion¡¯s left hand and made a small cut on the heel, the part furthest away from the thumb. Valrion flinched, letting out a little squirm of shock, but he didn¡¯t cry¡ªhe hadn¡¯t been crying much lately. Confusion overwhelmed him as he watched his father hover his hand above the brazier, letting a few drops of blood fall. As soon as blood made contact with the manashards, the flames turned white for about three seconds before gradually returning to red and yellow. Valrion was relieved that all they needed was blood, but it seemed everyone else in the room felt anything but that. Seeing the surprise on their faces, he understood what the result meant: white meant positive. Several reactions occurred all at once afterward. Valrion¡¯s father gripped the knife tightly, his eyes burning with anger as if he might combust and merge with the fire. Octavia snatched the folded cloth from the table and rushed to Valrion, quickly wrapping it around his bleeding palm. Fina stood with her mouth wide open while Sergius chuckled and shook his head. Valrion¡¯s mother and Firmus were silent¡ªtoo stunned to speak, it seemed.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°What are the odds?¡± Sergiu¡¯s bewildered expression made it clear he wasn¡¯t laughing in joy. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m witnessing a miracle with my own two eyes! I wonder what the kingdom would do if they learned about this!¡± ¡°What should¡ªwe must do something about this. Firmus, what should we do now?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked. Valrion had expected her to be more frantic than during the incident with Sergius, but she sounded surprisingly calm. It was highly probable she had anticipated the existence of his mana, which should explain her demeanor. ¡°First of all, you can¡¯t keep him in the same room as you,¡± Firmus suggested. ¡°He needs a safer place, somewhere fire-resistant, or he might burn this house down when you least expect it. I wasn¡¯t joking when I said I¡¯m the most concerned about that.¡± ¡°Should we build a new room for him? That might take some time,¡± Fina said. Firmus surveyed every corner of the kitchen before his gaze landed on Valrion¡¯s father, who still stood frozen in place. ¡°This kitchen should be fine.¡± ¡°This kitchen?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s voice was almost like a whisper. ¡°You heard me right,¡± Firmus confirmed. ¡°Look around. The kitchen is made of bricks and has a hearth. Don¡¯t you realize your son is clever enough to target the fireplace? Did any of you ever light it up when he was around?¡± Everyone, except Valrion¡¯s father, shook their heads. Firmus shrugged. ¡°It could be a coincidence, then. Regardless, he¡¯s truly something.¡± ¡°He needs a safe medium to practice with¡ªsomething, anything that¡¯s not a living being,¡± Sergius added. Hearing that, Valrion could only apologize. Firmus waved two fingers toward Sergius. ¡°Precisely. We need to minimize the risk of him hurting others, and that won¡¯t happen if we leave him upstairs in a bedroom primarily made of wood. He must learn to master his power before he¡¯s let out into the world. That means you can¡¯t just take him to the market or any public places until then. He can visit my house, but maybe when he¡¯s a little older.¡± ¡°Where should we cook?¡± Fina asked. ¡°Outdoors in the meantime,¡± Sergius answered right away. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be hard for Cassius to build another room¡ª¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you a little too excited, Firmus?¡± Valrion¡¯s father cut in. ¡°A guaranteed future soldier for you, is he?¡± Firmus glared at the man before spitting, ¡°What are you getting at?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t ask something you already know,¡± Valrion¡¯s father replied, his gaze no less terrifying. Firmus laughed, rubbing his head. ¡°I know you¡¯ll just make Valrion take over your workshop. That, if we can even keep his identity a secret for that long. You know most elemental wielders we try to protect end up getting caught.¡± Valrion didn¡¯t mishear. Firmus¡¯s words clearly indicated that there was something unfavorable about possessing elemental powers. A moment ago, Sergius had also hinted at what the kingdom might do if they discovered his secret. However, Valrion couldn¡¯t go with the theory that the kingdom was eradicating every elemental wielder because of the existence of evokers. Not only was his hand stinging from the slash, but parts of his head that weren¡¯t swollen were also pounding with numbness. [Level: 2] [EXP: 110/115] [Health: 249/281] [Mana: 25/25] His health deteriorated due to the Aptitude Test, and [Status: Injured] appeared again. He had also expected [Status: Confused] or [Status: Dizzy] to pop up, but he would have laughed if they did. ¡°None of you are to tell anyone.¡± Valrion¡¯s father said, taking a heavy breath before looking deeply into everyone¡¯s eyes, even his own wife. ¡°Not even your closest friends, your spouse, or the person you trust with your life. No one. If this were to leak, it would be easy to figure out who betrayed us.¡± Firmus placed his hands on his thighs. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to remind us. We know.¡± Valrion¡¯s father glowered at Firmus before quietly excusing himself from the room. As he passed by Valrion, their eyes met for a brief moment, but he quickly looked away as if he couldn¡¯t bear to look at his son. Valrion might have been bothered by it, but messages showed up in front of him, demanding his full attention. [Personal Quest unlocked: Father of All] [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +25] [Level 2 > Level 3] [Health increased to 286] [Mana increased to 27] [A New Era ? There¡¯s something off about how elemental wielders are treated in Eru. It seems your family is trying to protect them, including you, from the government, but you can¡¯t put your finger on what it is. At least you know that¡¯s why they don¡¯t seem too thrilled about your power.] [Father of All ? You don¡¯t know much about your father, but he strikes you as a man of high complexity with goodwill veiled beneath the surface. You¡¯re determined to unravel the mysteries of his life.] 15 - Flames in the Hearth 15 - Flames in the Hearth If this were the Eru that Valrion knew, his family could have hired several guardians capable of wielding water elements. They would take turns watching over him, using their abilities to prevent or resolve any problems he might accidentally cause. Once he was able to walk and talk fluently, they could have found a trustworthy mentor to teach him how to control his flame. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the case, as his family had no better solution than to follow Firmus¡¯ advice. Three days later, on the morning of the fourteenth, he was fed, cleaned, and brought to the kitchen that had been redecorated into what looked like a poor widow¡¯s bower. He had once read a fictional book about a pregnant queen who was falsely accused of murdering her husband¡ªthe ruler of the nation. All alone and hated by everyone, she had given birth and raised her daughter in a dungeon. This was how he imagined her chamber to look. Everything except the built-in hearth and wall lanterns had been removed, leaving only a bed on the right side of the room and a brand-new cradle on the other. Its black color and skinny slats indicated that it was made from wrought iron, and when Valrion was placed inside and managed to touch the sides, he was certain of it. Wool became his new bedding, and the same was true for the mattress across from him, which also had wrought iron as its frame. While not entirely fire-resistant, wool was much harder to ignite, and even if it did catch fire, it would smolder rather than flare up. Given their high cost, he was grateful that he had been reborn into a family that could afford such luxury. [Level: 3] [EXP: 10/125] [Health: 284/286] [Mana: 27/27] He was elated to have reached level three, and the requirement for the next level had indeed increased by ten points. So far, main quests had given him twenty or twenty-five experience points, so he would look forward to making sure if there would be any changes in the future. A few times, he also managed to touch his forehead to check if the bump was still visible. He felt nothing¡ªno pain nor any noticeable swelling. He might have needed to press harder, but why would he bother? However, it seemed that the others could still feel something as they continued to apply ointment to the same area. What was odd was that, although the bump on his forehead was no longer a concern, the knife cut from his father left a clean scar. [Status: Injured] had disappeared a day ago, but he often found himself staring at his palm ever since the night of the Aptitude Test. It didn¡¯t seem like it would leave a permanent mark, and even if it did, it would most likely fade away as he grew older. ¡°Aren¡¯t we lucky that Sir Firmus knew someone who could sell us this used cradle? Otherwise, we would have had to wait longer to order one ourselves,¡± Fina said as she walked into the kitchen and proceeded to the dining room, carrying a large woven basket with both hands. Valrion couldn¡¯t see its contents, but he assumed it held food for his mother¡¯s breakfast. It occurred to him that he wouldn¡¯t have full privacy here since his family would eat meals in the proper area, and the only way to get there was through the kitchen. Then again, his family might have considered it a good idea, as it would allow them to keep a watch over him regularly. This wouldn¡¯t be a problem, as his family had expected him to showcase his fire elemental power again¡ªit was the very reason they had moved him here. Another issue might arise if he displayed abilities beyond those of a typical three-month-old, but they would likely just call him a genius and build a better place for him. Somehow, he knew the people would always have his back. It was comforting to know he had people he could count on. ¡°Do you like the new cradle? I thought it might be too firm for you, but we¡¯ll see,¡± his mother said, having stood beside him for a while. He smiled at her, hoping to convey that he was okay with the arrangement, and she responded with a warmer smile.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. She seemed to have accepted the present as she picked him up and carried him outside through the back door. The area was filled with kitchen items, including the kitchen table and a cauldron hanging above a firepit. Apart from them, the sacks of goods, cupboards, and shelves were all tucked against the outer wall of the house. When the incident with Sergius occurred, Valrion had been hanging out in the right yard of the house, surrounded only by grass and hedges. Today, his mother took him to the other side, where a stable housed two horses, both a shade of dark brown. There seemed to be space for a third, suggesting one was missing. Closer to the end of the house stood two more buildings, one smaller than the other. From his knowledge of a middle-class household in Eru, he immediately recognized them as a barn and a shed. It was unlikely for them not to have another place to accommodate the animals during colder seasons and store necessary tools. ¡°Horses.¡± His mother pointed toward the horses before her finger stopped at the one on the left. ¡°This one is our oldest horse, so we don¡¯t ride him that often anymore. He¡¯s called Centurion. Wait¡ªthat¡¯s similar to your name! Why did I just realize that?¡± As his mother laughed, Valrion was torn between letting it go or being weirded out. How dare she compare a god¡¯s name to a horse? Then again, names ending in ¡°-rion¡± weren¡¯t uncommon in either Heaven or Eru. Many divine names have been used for humans and plants alike, such as Lotus, a famous seamstress in Heaven, and Eaglethor, one of the strongest soldiers there. Perhaps he was just upset because the horse looked like it might die next week. Its mane and tail were brittle, and its eyes showed clear signs of aging, with cloudiness developing in the irises. When it neighed, Valrion noticed a pair of deep yellow teeth covered in thick saliva. A moment later, Centurion nudged its head against Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s arm, also touching the child¡¯s lower back. It then lifted its head and looked at Valrion with a deep, knowing gaze¡ªone that spoke of years of unconveyed struggles. He didn¡¯t know why, but at that moment, remorse enveloped him. He immediately regretted ridiculing the horse¡¯s appearance. He believed he was good at giving appreciation when it was due. At least, he always made sure to do so when it came to his family, but there was so much more to the world than just them. Who would have thought he would want to be less rigid, even toward an animal? Roughly fifteen minutes after being outside, as expected, her mother returned to the kitchen and placed him into the cradle. He wouldn¡¯t have known what happened to her in the previous room after caring for him, but this time, he saw her head toward the dining room. She was all alone there. Moments later, Octavia and Fina appeared in the kitchen and joined Valrion¡¯s mother, immediately launching into a loud conversation. It seemed Fina brought gossip about a certain fish seller from their regular morning market, whose wife had left him after discovering he had been in a secret relationship with their mutual friend, resulting in an eight-year-old child. ¡°Didn¡¯t he try to flirt with all of us before? I¡¯ve always known there¡¯s something odd about him!¡± Octavia exclaimed, and Fina responded with a disgusted snort. ¡°Does this mean we¡¯ll have to find another seller? But his quality¡¯s amazing,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said. ¡°I guess so. He left the market in a hurry this morning when some people started calling him out. After all this, I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll have the nerve to show up there again.¡± Just when he thought Sergius was nowhere to be found, the man walked into the kitchen from the backyard and sat with them. Though Valrion couldn¡¯t see what was happening¡ªhis cradle faced the fireplace, with his back to the dining room¡ªhe could hear the women retelling the story to Sergius, followed by the clinking of cutlery. ¡°What? What an idiot!¡± Sergius shouted at one point, clearly referring to the cheating fish seller. His voice was muffled as he spoke, his mouth stuffed with food. Valrion¡¯s parents, especially his mother, had really struck him as humble nobility. He had thought about how they didn¡¯t have the wealth to trample on others¡¯ lives, but it would have been perfectly fine if his mother had demanded private meal times. None of the workers would have minded, especially since they could always eat elsewhere or at later hours. As usual, after the mourning routine, Valrion grew a little drowsy. He would normally choose to sleep, as there was nothing else to do, but with the hearth before him, he couldn¡¯t. His attention drifted to the thin firewood stacked in the grate. It had been charred from use but was still far from turning to ash. Just as he had done before, he focused on igniting the fire. It appeared almost instantly, but it only burned the left part of the firewood, staying there without spreading. The flame was also small, like the one he had created in the common room when Firmus was around. He tried to summon more. Each flame was about the size of his fist, but it didn¡¯t always appear in the right spots. Sometimes, it landed perfectly on the firewood stack, but other times, it nearly gave him a heart attack as it teetered on the edge of the hearth before tumbling onto the stone flooring, where it quickly fizzled out. First and foremost, he needed to work on his aiming, but then a new thought struck him: what if he tried to manipulate the shape of the fire that was already burning before him? 16 - Regeneration Rate 16 - Regeneration Rate Once, Valrion watched a heavenly soldier entertain children by summoning fire in both palms, shaping them into a dancing couple. The woman¡¯s long dress swirled like an actual crimson silk gown while the same fiery movement wound around the man¡¯s head. The little ones beamed joyfully, their eyes sparkling as they watched the flames twirl and spin. From a distance, the fire resembled a moving painting crafted with remarkable precision. Attempting something like that would be nearly impossible, so Valrion knew he should go with an easier practice, like splitting the flames in two. Squinting, he stared at the peak of the flames¡ªthe one right in the middle. He concentrated with all his might, attempting to part them. Even if it wasn¡¯t possible, he hoped to shift them slightly. However, instead of achieving his goal, a flame the size of his fist sputtered to life in the corner of the hearth before quickly dying down. He clicked his tongue, but since his mouth wasn¡¯t developed enough, all he managed were mewls, as always. Impatience is something I can no longer afford, he reminded himself, just as he was about to rant in his mind about how life had never been this complicated before. As he calmed down, he remembered a fundamental rule that applied in Heaven and all realms across the universe: repetition was the key to success. Every branch of knowledge grew through constant practice and memorization until it was ingrained in memory. Every increase in stamina required diligent effort, with each attempt pushing the limits a little further. Even his bump needed several applications of ointment before it could heal. There was no such thing as failure¡ªjust another step toward success, a lesson to be learned, a challenge to overcome. Right now, he might only be able to ignite an object, but if he kept at it for weeks or even months, he could eventually conjure a massive flame capable of engulfing the hearth in one try and burning down all the firewood within seconds. He glared at the hearth, trying to part the flames again. The result was identical¡ªhe only managed to spark a small flare among the bigger flames before it quickly fizzled out. Just as he was about to make one more attempt, he was interrupted by Sergius, who suddenly showed up and knelt in front of the hearth. Sergius extended his hand toward the fire, holding it there for a few seconds, then wiggled it slightly before standing up. Only then did Valrion notice the toasting fork in Sergius¡¯ hand with a thick slice of bread impaled on the end. ¡°Wow, I burned the edges.¡± Sergius stared at one side of the bread that had turned deep brown. Though not burned, it would taste a bit bitter. He then nodded his chin toward Valrion. ¡°Thank you, my liege.¡± My liege. Valrion knew Sergius was just saying random things, but he still shivered at the sound of it. It was a phrase often used by some gods when addressing him and his father. He didn¡¯t expect someone from Eru to address him that way, and it felt surprisingly right coming from his family¡¯s servant. Much like what had happened between his mother and Centurion, Valrion wasn¡¯t sure whether to make a fuss over the situation or simply ignore it and move on. As he watched Sergius return to the dining room, he realized the man had used his power to cook some food. Among all the things that could have happened, this was one of the last things that crossed his mind. Nothing was wrong with something so harmless, but it was too unexpected¡ªso out of place that it left him speechless even moments afterward. It wasn¡¯t until he chuckled that he realized he actually found it funny. ¡°You truly are something else.¡± It was his mother¡¯s turn to appear. She glanced at him, then at the hearth, then back at him again. The smile that followed was tender but tinged with sadness. She didn¡¯t say more as she walked away and rejoined the others. It was painfully obvious that his mother wanted to say more, but she held back, perhaps to avoid disrupting the pleasant mood of breakfast. Did she have a long, deep talk with his father about their family problem last night? Was it because she hated not seeing him sleep in a proper room? He would have appreciated her honesty, but he had no way of encouraging her to speak up. The fact that she didn¡¯t make any dramatic remarks and simply continued eating suggested she had become more accepting of his situation. At the very least, she didn¡¯t have the same miserable look on her face as she did when Firmus was there.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Valrion¡¯s attention returned to the hearth. He went through the same struggle as before: his thoughts tried to manipulate the shape of the fire, but the reality showed that he was just adding more flames to the firewood that had already burned down to embers. Letting out a soft gurgle of annoyance, he was still willing to give it another try. [Warning: Low on Mana.] [Mana: 3/27] He went still, mind going blank. The surrounding sounds sharpened, and he could hear the conversation in the dining room. ¡°Carrot cakes sound incredible. Next time, don¡¯t forget where you put last week¡¯s vegetables,¡± his mother said. ¡°Oh, I should start hunting wild hogs. They should be in season,¡± Sergius said. It seemed they were discussing what to have for dinner, and Valrion was on the verge of sobbing. He would have done anything to join them instead of being stuck in the cradle, watching as his mana nearly depleted after just twenty minutes of practice. That was without counting the rests, like when his mother and Sergius had spoken to him. He gave the hearth another tiny breath of fire before his joints ached, and his head felt a little light. There was only one reason this happened, so he called the Handbook. [Level: 3] [EXP: 10/125] [Health: 282/286] [Mana: 0/27] Thankfully, he knew it wasn¡¯t primarily due to skill issues but because his mana reserve was small. If he had created one fireball powerful enough to break through brick walls, it would have likely drained almost all of his mana. Excitement had made him forget to track how many points each trial consumed. He remembered the three and two points lost from using his power on Sergius and the fireplace in the common room. It should be safe to assume that every flame he sent toward the hearth cost about the same amount. It also irked him that his total EXP remained the same. In theory, he expected it to increase as he practiced, but clearly, it didn¡¯t. Besides completing quests, would he maybe gain them from killing monsters or hunting prey? He only came to this conclusion because Sergius had mentioned hunting wild hogs, but if he were to design the Handbook, he would have set it up that way. The reason was that fighting living beings, especially monsters, should pose a real challenge. With his mana empty, there was nothing else he could do but rest, so he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Strangely, the last thing he thought of was being five or six years old in a forest shrouded in snow with Sergius. The scenario was simple¡ªhe imagined shooting arrows at fleeing rabbits and hitting each one every single time. Sergius then praised him before gathering the prey in the sack. When they returned home, his parents and parents were in euphoria, knowing they were guaranteed some warm soup to get them through the winter night. He had never seen his father so happy, but of course, it was just all in his head. A few hours passed before he woke up and found Octavia sitting on the bed across from him, folding napkins in her lap. A tankard was placed on the floor nearby, making it look like she was getting drunk. Hopefully, it wasn¡¯t alcohol since it was still daylight. He felt a growl of hunger in his stomach and deliberately let out a loud gurgle to catch her attention. She looked up, smiled, and quickly set the folded shirt aside, rising to her feet. ¡°Wait here, okay? Let me call your mother,¡± she said. Already anticipating the conversation, he ignored her departure and checked the Handbook. [Level: 3] [EXP: 10/125] [Health: 280/286] [Mana: 4/27] The status wasn¡¯t a surprise. Full-grown elemental wielders took an entire day to replenish their mana, so what did he expect from a baby? When he checked the time in the Handbook, four hours had passed. His mana regeneration rate seemed to be just around one point per hour, which made him no different from the other elemental wielders. He was special, but not that special. One thing he knew for certain was that his maximum health and mana would increase alongside his level. To raise his level, he needed to gain EXP by completing quests. For that, he must stay proactive¡ªconstantly searching for every opportunity and never letting doubt hold him back. As long as a task was still tied to his elemental power in the Handbook, there would be unknowns left for him to explore. 17 - An Unexpected Maid 17 - An Unexpected Maid Throughout the day, Octavia kept Valrion company in the kitchen, sitting on the bed across from him. As usual, Valrion would drift in and out of sleep, and Octavia would call for his mother each time he woke. That was the only time she allowed his mother to have the bed to care for him while she moved her work to the dining room. Once his mother was finished, Octavia would return. After folding the napkins, Octavia spent several hours patching torn clothes and trousers. She dozed off a few times, her head bobbing up and down with her eyes fluttering, but she always managed to shake herself awake and go back to her task. Sometime in the afternoon, Sergius showed up in the kitchen with a rug. Spreading his arms, he arranged the covering on the rough stone floor between Valrion¡¯s cradle and the bed. His right shoulder was still bandaged, but the way he could move around without a hitch or anyone¡¯s help must have meant that he was feeling much better. Most definitely, the rug was also made of wool. It was dark blue with white square patterns all over it. Valrion couldn¡¯t understand the purpose of putting something so expensive where people would just step on it¡ªuntil his mother arrived a few minutes later, picked him up, and laid him on his stomach on the ground. ¡°Will this really help strengthen his neck and shoulder muscles?¡± Octavia asked, leaving the bed and kneeling beside Valrion¡¯s mother. ¡°The midwives say so. All the new mothers are doing it as well,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother confirmed. She brought Valrion¡¯s elbows in front of his shoulders and pressed her hands around them, keeping him in place. He couldn¡¯t help but lift his head, which felt a tad tiring, but the midwives were right. He could feel his shoulders burn a little. ¡°Don¡¯t you notice? He¡¯s cried less,¡± Octavia remarked. ¡°It¡¯s almost as if he¡¯s a completely different baby.¡± ¡°Maybe he¡¯s just getting older. Three months is quite a milestone,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said with a chuckle. Valrion wondered if they would still speak lightheartedly about him when they knew the actual reason. The strengthening exercise lasted for about five minutes. Valrion¡¯s mother rolled him back and lightly patted him on his chest as if saying ¡°good job¡± before returning him to the cradle. For a second, he didn¡¯t know why the whole thing required a rug, but he quickly realized how small the cradle was and how his mother needed space to keep them both comfortable. In the evening, he woke up after just an hour¡¯s nap¡ªthe shortest he had ever had¡ªcaused by the scent of roasted beef, garlic, and thyme from the dining room. There was also a hint of earthy sweetness and a blend of spices¡ªcinnamon and nutmeg, among others. It must have been the carrot cake his mother had mentioned earlier. Before long, just past seven, everyone gathered for dinner while Valrion could only stare at the new firewood stacked in the burning hearth¡ªa fire that had not been lit by him¡ªand the Handbook. [Level: 3] [EXP: 10/125] [Health: 286/286] [Mana: 11/27] He would rather conserve all his mana for practicing in the morning, but to gauge how much was needed for one basic skill, it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try. As before, a tiny flame appeared at the edge of the firewood, joining the rest of the blaze. [Mana: 9/27] It indeed required two, perhaps three if it happened to be slightly bigger. There was nothing he could do but keep going, so he dismissed the Handbook and closed his eyes again, hoping tomorrow would arrive faster. His family talked about how juicy the venison they were having, and he wasn¡¯t sure which was more disheartening: his lack of mana or his lack of teeth. After dinner, his mother kissed his right cheek, and his father caressed the other before they left the kitchen. Sergius helped Octavia and Fina carry the dishes to the backyard, presumably to wash them at the well. They came back with baskets of clean tableware and went to the dining room to put everything away. Afterward, they bid each other goodnight, and that was the end of Valrion¡¯s day. ¡°Hi, Valrion.¡± Valrion was startled when Octavia appeared about ten minutes later, wearing a nightgown with her hair loose and a blanket in her arms. He had only seen her hair in a bun, but it turned out she had wavy locks that reached her upper chest. She flopped onto the bed in front of him and pulled the blanket around herself, leaving him baffled. Given how it had been so far, he had assumed the bed would only be used for someone to sit on while watching over him during the day. After all, who would be brave enough to sleep beside him, knowing the risk of being set in the flame during their slumber? Valrion would love to know how the choosing process went. He could imagine the family deciding that someone needed to stay with him in case he cried at night. With all her kindness, his mother volunteered to accompany him but was soon intervened by the others. Octavia must have been willing to step in, though she might have lost a bet to Sergius and Fina.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Good night. I trust you won¡¯t hurt me, but I¡¯m prepared for anything,¡± Octavia said, facing him with her eyes closed. It took her less than a minute to fall asleep. Days passed by normally like that. None of his quests or numbers had changed, but he never gave up on his training. He adhered to his routine: waking up, being cared for by his mother, and spending the early morning hours casting fire into the hearth. Afterward, he would take several naps, watching his mana slowly increase. His mother would do the muscle-strengthening exercises at least twice a day. As the sun set, he would rest deeply once more with Octavia by his side. He would wake several times, at which point Octavia would bring him to his mother before returning him to his cradle. With the arrival of the new dawn, the cycle would begin again. The following Sunday, Valrion¡¯s father suddenly appeared in the kitchen, having come from the house¡¯s main area, just as Octavia was nestled under her blanket. Gasping, the maid kicked off the blanket, stood up, and combed her hair with her fingers as she looked at the man in the doorway. ¡°Sir, what¡¯s the matter?¡± she asked. ¡°The mission,¡± Valrion¡¯s father began, not wasting any second. ¡°Are you still interested in it?¡± Her face immediately became composed, as if she had never been flustered in the first place. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°All right,¡± he noted. ¡°If the plan goes smoothly, you¡¯ll leave in three days. Yes?¡± ¡°I understand, Sir.¡± He paused, sighing. ¡°Are you sure about this? It¡¯s unlike anything you¡¯ve ever seen. We might accidentally cross paths with the Empire. No one can guarantee your safety.¡± The Empire? Valrion thought. It must be different from the Kingdom of Luxellum, or else his father misspoke. More intriguingly, what kind of mission would require someone like Octavia? Would she be there to treat the wounded? ¡°I¡¯ll take the risk, Sir,¡± Octavia insisted. ¡°I¡¯ve never been so close to their soldiers, so I want to verify the rumors myself.¡± With that, Valrion was sure his father didn¡¯t have a slip of the tongue. Octavia wouldn¡¯t have said ¡°their soldiers¡± if they were talking about their own kingdom, but why would she even get involved in the first place? ¡°What rumors?¡± Valrion¡¯s father proceeded. ¡°That they¡¯re stronger than us,¡± Octavia replied. ¡°I see.¡± The man took a deeper breath. ¡°Those aren¡¯t just rumors. You should already know that. That¡¯s why I¡¯m concerned about you.¡± She fell silent before chewing her bottom lip. ¡°Sir, I know what I can and can¡¯t do. I know my limits.¡± ¡°I know it too.¡± He tilted his head sideways as if not understanding her message. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m concerned about your survival. If we had someone else, we wouldn¡¯t ask you.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Octavia¡¯s voice was soft, almost inaudible. ¡°Forgive me for that, Sir.¡± ¡°All right. Think it over again. Let Fina or Sergius stay with Valrion on your behalf,¡± Valrion¡¯s father stated one last time before turning and walking away. As soon as the head of the family exited the kitchen, Valrion saw the sourness on Octavia¡¯s face, and it terrified him a little. She gritted her teeth and scrunched up her nose. Her eyes were wide, bearing an expression like she had never hated anyone more than she hated his father. If she had the chance, she could strangle and murder him on the spot. He had never imagined she could make such a look, but he sympathized with both sides. His father was right to be worried, but his mother wasn¡¯t wrong when she said his father needed to learn to speak more kindly. Even he would be insulted if someone came over just to say they weren¡¯t sure about his abilities and saw him as nothing more than a backup plan. Quietly, Octavia went in the direction his father had taken. The shock Valrion had felt earlier was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now: Octavia returned, carrying a longbow in one hand and a quiver filled with arrows in the other. Her gaze was downcast as if she was possessed by an evil force, and she headed toward the dining room, disappearing from his view. Before Valrion could speculate on what she intended to do, an arrow flew past, striking the firewood in the hearth. The fire spread to the arrow in an instant, leaving him with his mouth agape. ¡°How dare he say that!¡± Octavia shouted as another arrow followed, embedding itself right next to the first. ¡°Who does he think he is?! Just because he¡¯s one of our benefactors?!¡± Curses poured out of her as six more arrows were shot at the hearth. I¡¯m not as weak as he thinks! He hasn¡¯t seen what I can do! He¡¯s the coward! He¡¯s never been to a real battlefield! I can blast him to a crisp! Each time, she struck an untouched spot. Valrion knew it wasn¡¯t because she missed¡ªshe deliberately avoided targeting the same place twice. Then, there was a minute of solitude. Valrion thought Octavia was cleaning up and preparing for bed, but instead, she stepped out of the dining room with the bow and an arrow, halting in the middle of the wool rug. Swiftly, she raised the weapon¡ªher torso slightly rotating to align with it in her left hand, while her right hand nocked the arrow and drew the string back toward her face. She stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, her knees straight but relaxed for stability. Her eyes focused on the hearth before she released the arrow, piercing one already lodged in the firewood and splitting it in two, burning them all together. The distance was short, but the precision was still remarkable. Even with just a glance at her posture, Valrion knew she wasn¡¯t an amateur. She had done this a million times before. [Personal Quest updated: The First Attendant] [EXP +10] [The First Attendant ? Octavia isn¡¯t an ordinary maid. Your father offered her a mission that appears to be tied to the Liberators and an empire. She quickly demonstrated her skill with a bow, proving she is much more than she seems.] This was the first time Valrion¡¯s personal quest had been updated, but he didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. When he looked at Octavia, she met his gaze. She had lowered her weapon and flashed her usual sweet smile, but he could no longer see her the same way. 18 - Fina and Her Relentless Correspondence 18 - Fina and Her Relentless Correspondence When Valrion was introduced to his family members, he did wonder why they only had one guard. Who would care for them if Sergius got sick or had to be out of town? Now he knew: his family didn¡¯t have two maids and one guard. They had one maid, one guard, and one Octavia, whom he couldn¡¯t quite categorize as either of them. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to say this properly, but my husband told me about your conversation with him last night. Are you really going to take that mission?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked Octavia when they were in the kitchen the following morning. She was changing his clothes on the rug while Octavia swept the floor around them. Octavia wore a subtly irritated expression, which Valrion¡¯s mother couldn¡¯t see because her back was turned, but he could. Once again, he felt for Octavia. No matter how mediocre she might have been, constantly hearing people¡¯s doubts must have been excruciating. It must have stung even more coming from those who lived with her. ¡°Please don¡¯t take this as if we don¡¯t trust your ability. We¡¯re worried about your safety,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother added. A similar exchange must have occurred before, or she must be a genuinely considerate person. ¡°Brenta,¡± Octavia interjected, still looking at the dirt she was moving. ¡°I heard you used to live there with your aunt''s family in your early twenties. What was life like in a port city?¡± ¡°Oh, it was gorgeous,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother gushed. ¡°My family ran a fruit stall in the market. The city was loud, especially in the mornings, but the view was like none other. You should take a walk by the pier at sunset.¡± Octavia successfully steered the conversation away as her mother went on with recommending taverns to visit, dishes to try, and even seamstresses with the best prices. The suggestion felt peculiar, given that Octavia likely wouldn¡¯t have time for anything leisurely, but it was a better topic than having her second-guess herself. By noon, Octavia was folding napkins in the same place as the day before¡ªin the bed, facing the cradle. Her mission turned out to be common knowledge within the household as both Fina and Sergius approached her at different times in the kitchen, expressing the same concerns as Valrion¡¯s parents. ¡°Please think about it again! I can¡¯t imagine a life without you!¡± Fina insisted. She should mean well, but her phrasing clearly implied that she believed in a higher possibility of Octavia failing and dying. Octavia seemed to notice it as another wave of bitterness crossed her face, which she hid by looking in another direction. ¡°I think you¡¯ll be fine. Just don¡¯t bite off more than you can chew,¡± Sergius said, differently than the others. ¡°Getting caught between the Kingdom and the Empire seems like a once-in-a-lifetime experience. When I first met you, I knew you would be crazy enough to take on such a challenge.¡± Octavia snickered at Sergius¡¯ statement, but it raised a question as to why Valrion¡¯s father had chosen her over Sergius. It was hard to fathom since Valrion hadn¡¯t seen Sergius wield his sword yet, but this family seemed to have a lot of enemies. If he wanted to think positively, maybe his father wished to have another strong pair of hands to protect the house when Octavia was away. Perhaps he had already asked Sergius and been refused. The morning of the twenty-fourth arrived, precisely three days after Valrion¡¯s father spoke to Octavia in the kitchen, and she bid everyone farewell. All were present in the front yard except for Valrion¡¯s father, who should be working at the workshop. Held by his mother, it was the first time Valrion saw this side of the house. In addition to the hedges lining the edges, two garden plots bloomed with purple, pink, and red tulips. Beyond that, there was little to see except fields of green and a blue sky streaked with clouds. Octavia, for her part, wore a dress as usual but without the apron. ¡°Fina will take care of you in the meantime. I¡¯ll return soon,¡± Octavia assured, softly pinching Valrion¡¯s cheek. He wasn¡¯t sure how long she would be gone, but she carried only a single satchel strapped to her back. It seemed enough for a change of clothes and a few snacks, though that didn¡¯t mean no one would provide her with more necessities once she reached Brenta. She waved her hands toward everyone one last time before setting off. As soon as she turned right, Valrion could immediately tell she was heading to the town center, likely to meet the others involved in the mission. Even if Brenta was nearby, they would still need a ride to get there. Valrion¡¯s father came home in the evening and had dinner with everyone, just like usual. That night, he did mention that Octavia would be the one leaving instead of both of them together, so Valrion didn¡¯t question why he was around. It had been made clear many times before that his father¡¯s primary role was to fund others. ¡°Today¡¯s menu is rabbit stew, hunted by yours only!¡± Sergius declared. Valrion knew Sergius intended it as a joke for those in the dining room, but it struck a nerve with him. The fact that his mouth started to water only made it worse. Valrion tried his best to sleep while they ate, but he couldn¡¯t help being distracted by his mother asking about the ingredients Fina had used in the stew and Fina¡¯s detailed responses. Diced rabbit, chopped onions and garlic, trimmed leeks, a hefty amount of butter, wild mushrooms, fresh sage, salt, and pepper¡ªValrion wished the hour would pass quickly, but it seemed to drag on instead.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. It was a great relief when it was done. Just as Octavia had said, it was Fina who showed up in the kitchen that night and plopped into the bed. She had never tied her hair, so her appearance hadn¡¯t changed much: her hair remained straight and fluffy, reaching only her neck. Her nightgown was identical to Octavia¡¯s, only larger. They must have gotten them from the same shop. ¡°Should I sleep? Ugh, I¡¯m exhausted. Yes, I should sleep, but I don¡¯t think I can. This is so frustrating,¡± Fina muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. One of her hands pressed against her chest while the other fisted the blanket Octavia had left behind. Would it be ironic if, just like Octavia, Fina was about to be sent on another mission? By this point, it didn¡¯t seem too far-fetched that every worker in this household was secretly a soldier. Given how anxious Fina seemed, maybe she was too afraid to refuse his father¡¯s request. Any moment now, the man might walk into the kitchen and start a fight with her. ¡°Fina.¡± Surprising, but no less uncanny, it was his mother who appeared in the kitchen instead of his father. Her right hand gripped a letter as she sat next to Fina. The maid scooted over, creating enough space between them so they could face each other comfortably. Seeing them up close like this, Valrion couldn¡¯t tell who was older. ¡°Did you think I would forget about this? I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s been a busy day,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother began, placing the letter on her lap. ¡°Honestly, I thought you were asleep,¡± Fina admitted. Valrion¡¯s mother chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry.¡± ¡°You have nothing to apologize for. I¡¯m just¡ª¡± Fina¡¯s voice caught in her throat. ¡°¡ªanxious.¡± ¡°It¡¯s understandable, Fina. You¡¯re allowed to feel however you feel.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother opened the letter, stared at it for a few seconds, and sighed before reading aloud, ¡°Dear my beloved father and mother, this letter is written by someone else, but I trust the person will deliver my message. I¡¯m sorry for leaving you all behind. I have many things to take care of. Please don¡¯t try to find me. I¡¯ll return when the time is right. With love, your son, Antonio.¡± Fina¡¯s jaw dropped, her face tightening with confusion. ¡°Not even a mention of me?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother furrowed her brow, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Fina.¡± ¡°How could he do this to me? No, how could he run away after just a month of marriage?!¡± Fina punched the bed beside her, her eyes welling up. ¡°He must have been after my first husband¡¯s inheritance! I shouldn¡¯t have fallen for him after just two weeks of courtship! I should have known when he showed up at my house out of nowhere!¡± ¡°But he was a family friend. Didn¡¯t you tell me your parents were friends with his? You couldn¡¯t have known,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother tried to reason. ¡°Still, that was foolish of me!¡± ¡°You were lonely, Fina.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother rubbed Fina¡¯s back gently. ¡°You made a mistake, yes, but don¡¯t beat yourself up over it, all right? You¡¯re a good person.¡± Valrion understood a few things from what had just happened. First, a millennium had passed, yet many people in Eru still couldn¡¯t read or write. Fina needed his mother to read the letter, while the sender had asked someone to write his. Second, the sender was Fina¡¯s second husband, who had won her affection in just two weeks. They were married for a month before he left her. There was no clue about what had happened to Fina¡¯s first husband or the time that had passed between his departure and the arrival of the second. The latter seemed to have fled recently, but through listening to all of this, Valrion could only ask himself: what in the world was going on? After a day of peace, Valrion¡¯s mother came again at night, bringing another letter and perching in the same spot as before. Valrion had expected it to be from Fina¡¯s second husband, but Fina didn¡¯t show a hint of sadness. Instead, her nose wrinkled as if she was smelling a month-old carcass. ¡°Fina. Uh, there¡¯s no ¡®dear¡¯ or anything. It starts with just ¡®Fina¡¯,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother elucidated before going on, ¡°Let me cut to the chase. Everyone in our village knows you¡¯re the one at fault for selling our late mother¡¯s jewelry. The royal authorities have granted our parents¡¯ land entirely to me. You¡¯re no longer welcome in this house. I¡¯ve burned everything you left behind.¡± ¡°What?¡± Fina¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Lady Adrianna, you know that¡¯s not true! She¡¯s the one who sold the jewelry and blamed me for it! I admit I¡¯m wrong for not visiting my village in years, but she¡ªshe didn¡¯t even tell me our parents had died! Now, I have no one there to defend me!¡± ¡°She was living with your parents until the day they passed away, so the villagers think she¡¯s the one who truly cared for them.¡± Once again, Valrion¡¯s mother rubbed Fina¡¯s back. ¡°Be strong, Fina. You can get through this. At least my family will always support you.¡± From that, Valrion understood that Fina had a sister¡ªeither older or younger¡ªwho wanted to claim sole rights to their late parents¡¯ assets. Fina had slipped up by not being there enough for her parents, which cost her everything, including the respect of the people in her hometown. To that, Valrion could pity Fina. She seemed to have the worst luck in holding on to what should have been hers. There was another day of peace before Valrion¡¯s mother arrived with another letter, taking her previous position beside Fina. It must be a continuation of the issue between her and her husband or her and her sister. Valrion suddenly realized how deeply immersed he had become in the drama that he was, in fact, waiting for it. ¡°Fina, we¡¯re sorry for disappearing. We understand that you¡¯re disappointed in us, but we¡¯ll do our best to repay all the money you¡¯ve lent us. Please have some faith in us, though we can¡¯t promise anything,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother read. If Valrion could slap his own forehead, he definitely would have. How could every letter bring a new problem? If he was gaining EXP, then Fina was collecting nothing but headaches. ¡°There¡¯s a small chance they¡¯ll actually return my money!¡± Fina howled, punching the bed beside her. ¡°I thought they were my friends! I¡¯ve known them ever since I moved to this town!¡± ¡°If it helps, at least they seem remorseful, unlike your ex-husband,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said, rubbing Fina¡¯s back in an attempt to soothe her, as anticipated. Valrion had no doubt that Fina was a lovely woman. She had taken care of the family¡ªcleaning, cooking, and staying by his side, even though she might have been terrified. He didn¡¯t want anything bad to happen to her, but he couldn¡¯t help feeling indifferent and slightly annoyed when it became clear that much of the trouble was due to her naivety. Above all, what he really wanted was to sleep. [Level: 3] [EXP: 20/125] [Health: 286/286] [Mana: 14/27] The Handbook must have been able to predict the future to some extent. Clearly, this constant flood of information was why it hadn¡¯t given him a personal quest regarding Fina. If he had been assigned the mission to get to know her, he could have earned a thousand EXP in just a week. 19 - Suen 30th 19 - Suen 30th On the last day of the month, everyone in the Martelli household seemed busier than usual. Fina and Sergius kept passing through the kitchen, hauling various items from the house to the backyard, including dresses, bundles of dried herbs, and even pairs of boots. Valrion¡¯s mother repeatedly reminded them to retrieve other things, like a stack of letters she had set aside days earlier or gifts she hadn¡¯t opened. ¡°Aren¡¯t these dried berries? Are you sure you want to throw them away? I can eat them, you know,¡± Sergius said, holding two thin boxes wrapped in dried leaves and tied with twigs. ¡°They¡¯re apology gifts from that elderly man,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother replied. ¡°Oh.¡± Sergius didn¡¯t say more before moving on. At one point, Valrion caught his mother holding a book¡ªthe very first time he had ever seen one under this roof¡ªand it pained him not to be able to scream, ¡°Wait, let me read that!¡± Whether it was a work of fiction or not, its contents would provide him with more information about the current Eru. It might even contain illustrations he could look at to alleviate his boredom. Then again, it would never occur to his family that he could read when he couldn¡¯t even speak. His ability to wield elemental power was strange enough as it was. As more and more things were placed outside, Valrion became certain that his family was doing a monthly clean-up, discarding items that no longer served a purpose. He couldn¡¯t understand the letters, as everyone, even gods, usually kept them as mementos, especially if they contained important records. Perhaps most of them were from Fina¡¯s second husband and sister. The hustle and bustle didn¡¯t cross his mind again until after dinner when his mother picked him up and carried him to the backyard. It was dark outside, except for the firepit that had been ignited, as the moon offered little light. From a distance, the town below appeared like a dreamland with lantern posts lining the roads and guiding the way. His mother waited near the cupboards and shelves in the outdoor kitchen, gently rocking him as she watched the goods being arranged much farther away. A brazier, at least a third the size of the one used for his Aptitude Test, stood among them, though it remained unlit. The scar on his palm still left a mark. An idea crossed his mind that they were conducting another test on him, but his attention was diverted to Sergius and Fina, who were circling the brazier. The former was laughing while the latter squeaked in annoyance. ¡°Fina has been hiding a letter from her ex-husband!¡± Sergius exclaimed, holding a letter behind his back, preventing Fina from taking it. ¡°I told you that I forgot about it! I¡¯m going to burn them all today!¡± Fina shouted louder, running toward Sergius with a frown. ¡°Oh, really? A love letter from when he first tried to court you? I thought someone said she has moved on,¡± Sergius teased, dodging Fina as she chased him around the area. When he finally halted, he lifted the letter out of her reach, then sprinted to another spot, continuing the game. How bored must Sergius have been to torment a woman at least a decade older than him? If Valrion could, he would have scolded him. ¡°Give it back to her, Sergius. You¡¯re not five,¡± Valrion¡¯s father groaned, stepping out of the kitchen. ¡°Let¡¯s get it over with. I¡¯m exhausted.¡± Laughing, Sergius followed the order and returned the letter. Fina smacked him on the back before stepping away, moving closer to the pile of clothes and boots. Sergius then set the brazier ablaze by transferring a stick of firewood from the nearby firepit. What was inside the brazier didn¡¯t turn blue¡ªthey were just regular firewood, not manashards. Perhaps Valrion was still shaken from the previous encounter, as his heart dropped when his mother approached the brazier. Thankfully, it soon settled when she stopped at a safe distance. His concern eased further as Fina and Sergius began tossing the items into the brazier, watching the fire quickly consume each one. Some, like the herbs, vanished within seconds, while the fabrics took longer to burn.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Divine source, we come before you with open hearts, free from attachment to the material world,¡± Fina suddenly initiated out loud, closing her eyes and pressing her hands together at her chin. ¡°We acknowledge that all things are temporary, and our true wealth lies in you. We trust that you will give us what we desire and take from us what is harmful, knowing that your will is always for our highest good.¡± Silence descended upon the air. Valrion noticed everyone else followed suit except his mother, who could only lower her gaze as she was holding him. They were all communicating with the divine source, and even his father was silently moving his lips. It didn¡¯t take him long to realize what was happening: this was a religious ritual. In all honesty, Valrion had thought his family didn¡¯t believe in any religion. The most common time for prayer was before bedtime. He had slept alongside every person in the household other than Sergius, yet he had never seen any of them pray. He had never heard them use traditional terms like Heaven, Hell, afterlife, or even gods. The last time his mother spoke of her dream, she had used the word ¡°paradise¡± instead. It would also make more sense to punish him that way¡ªto retain his divine name while being born to parents who would rather die than worship him. However, the situation before him suggested otherwise. ¡°May you listen to our deepest wishes. We believe, without doubt, that the divine source will always work in our favor, guiding us toward peace, love, and fulfillment,¡± Fina continued about two minutes later before opening her eyes. Everyone else did the same. None of them moved afterward. Solemnly, they watched the brazier¡¯s flame grow higher and fiercer, though it remained contained within the brazier. Even someone like Sergius seemed subdued, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. Eru and Heaven are connected¡ªtwo halves of a whole. He recalled one of his early lessons as a child in Heaven. Mortal worshippers are the backbone of Heaven, the source of energy that makes us strong. In return, we protect them and listen to their wishes. Without Heaven¡¯s guidance, the air and water in Eru would become tainted. Without mortal prayers, the light in Heaven would grow dim. These were but gentle imagery, of course, as a disconnection between the two realms had never occurred before. Dozens of major religious groups had thrived in Eru, each with its own beliefs and customs, and most viewed the Twelve Eidolons as evidence of their gods¡¯ existence. Some had their followers pray several times a day, while others reserved their worship for the weekends. Some danced and sang aloud, while others insisted that silent prayers, spoken only in the heart, carried more power. ¡°Divine source¡± was worshipped by this family, which might as well have been gods and Heaven for all he knew. The reason they burned these objects was plain to see¡ªthey needed to rid themselves of worldly attachments to bring peace into their lives. He understood the gifts from the elderly man¡ªhis mother must have wanted no connection with him. He also understood why Sergius teased Fina about keeping her ex-husband¡¯s love letter since she was supposed to let it go the moment he betrayed her. This belief certainly emerged after Valrion¡¯s banishment since he hadn¡¯t been aware of it before. It wasn¡¯t a bad practice, as detachment allowed mortals to live fully in the present. It taught them to be grateful and free, even when life threw obstacles in their way. Ultimately, it didn¡¯t matter what they did or what they called their gods and religions. Everything pointed to one shared belief: there was an unimaginable power beyond their planet, something that watched over them from above. This had always fueled Heaven¡¯s strength. The whole thing prompted Valrion to call the Handbook. His observation hadn¡¯t changed. Among all the options spread before him, the one that left the most mystery had always been [Blessings]. Similarly, of all the quests he received, [The Fate of Heaven] stood out. Everything he had learned about his existence here had been recorded under [A New Era]. Even after discovering his family¡¯s religion, it still wasn¡¯t considered a lead toward the current state of Heaven. It was understandable if [Capturing the Twelve Eidolons] was delayed indefinitely, given that he had been holed up in his house. It was unlikely that an eidolon would simply drop onto his roof and willingly accept their fate to be bound and sent back to the Vault, but the lack of progress regarding [The Fate of Heaven] was something else. Just have to live my life, he told himself. In any case, just like [Blessings] and [Spells], if he tried to find a solution, he would probably be urged to proceed with the main quests. It had always been this way. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to pray for Octavia¡¯s recovery.¡± Valrion¡¯s contemplation was interrupted by Sergius¡¯ sudden words, breaking the silence over them. His mother tightened her embrace around him¡ªan instinctive reaction to the statement¡ªwhile his father stood still, his expression unreadable and his gaze fixed on the distant flames. ¡°I did, of course, but poor girl,¡± Fina replied, sighing. ¡°It wasn¡¯t her fault that their radiance wielder was taken down first,¡± Sergius said. No further discussion followed as Sergius shook his head in disappointment before staring at the brazier like the rest of the people, but a tight knot formed in Valrion¡¯s chest. His fingers curled involuntarily. His eyes darted between the others, searching for any hint of more information, but it didn¡¯t yield any result. In the days since Octavia¡¯s departure, he had heard nothing about her¡ªnot even a whisper of a letter sent to the house¡ªand now he was being told she was injured? The thought settled uneasily in his mind. 20 - Blooming Seasons 20 - Blooming Seasons Two weeks into the fourth month, Octavia returned home with the same dress and satchel she had worn when she left. Aside from a small cut under her left eye, she didn¡¯t look any different. Valrion didn¡¯t hear the story behind the injury, but the woman seemed fine, acting bubbly as usual. She pinched both of his cheeks the moment she greeted him in the kitchen and called Sergius an idiot whenever she felt like it. On the last evening of the month, the family assembled in the backyard to burn items they no longer needed. As before, Fina chanted words of reverence toward the divine source, and everyone followed by closing their eyes in silent prayer. Given that the ritual was meant to symbolize letting go of material possessions, it made sense for it to take place on the final day of each month. All of Valrion¡¯s quests had stalled, but he didn¡¯t mind since he had made significant progress in other areas of his life. By the fifth month, he had learned to summon fire in the hearth with precision, burning only the firewood and leaving the surrounding area untouched. Shaping the flames felt like an achievable next step. His lower central teeth had also grown a little. He had also learned to roll over in his cradle, though getting back was a challenge. His head and torso often misaligned as he shifted his weight onto his arm, which twisted uncomfortably beneath him. Unable to fix the position on his own, he would resort to wailing intentionally until someone came to his aid. Each time, he was tempted to give up, but the unmatched joy of flipping over on his own kept him going. In the middle of the sixth month, his father celebrated his thirty-first birthday, followed two days later by Sergius¡¯s thirtieth. Fina baked cakes for both: rosewater for his father and cardamom for Sergius. It should have been time for him to start eating solid food, and the idea of starting with cake sounded thrilling, but there was no sign it would happen. Usually, he would have sulked, silently cursing his inability to join the feast while ignoring the lively atmosphere in the dining room. Instead, he focused on the hearth on the night of Sergius¡¯s birthday. Feeding the flames, he watched as they surged and filled the space. Nobody else seemed to notice, but the blast might have spilled out if not for the hearth¡¯s sturdy frame. It was the largest fire he had ever summoned. The effort cost him only three mana points. He wasn¡¯t sure whether to feel satisfied by the improvement or amused that his frustration over missing out on cake had triggered it. To his surprise and delight, his mother sat him on the rug a few days later and spoonfed him a bowl of barley soup for dinner. She still fed him naturally from time to time but began incorporating soups, mashed vegetables, and seasonal fruits into his meals. Entering the seventh month, he crawled for the first time. It happened one afternoon when his mother, Octavia, and Fina were in the kitchen, discussing plans to order new dresses for the colder seasons. He had been lying on a rug with a pillow borrowed from the nearby bed propped under his head. Rolling onto his stomach, he began scooting forward, managing to pull himself a few inches before tumbling back down. He could have been compared to a withering snake, yet all three women clapped and cheered. When he defeated ten higher-ranked heavenly soldiers in one-on-one battles as a teenager, the most anyone did was offer a flat, ¡°Good job.¡± Comparisons were never good, but the more time he spent in Eru, the more he realized that human excitement was more endearing than annoying. From that point on, his mother and the maids took every opportunity to teach him how to walk. They would applaud whenever he managed to stand for several seconds, even if he was holding onto the kitchen table for support. In no time, he was able to take a few steps forward when they were holding his hands and guiding him. During the eighth and ninth months, his mother, Octavia, and Fina celebrated their birthdays with similar dried fruit cakes. It was then that their ages became known: thirty, twenty-one, and thirty-eight. His mother¡¯s appearance had always suggested she might be older than his father, closer to Fina¡¯s age. While happy for them, he was equally pleased with his own progress. His mana consumption had decreased significantly, and his control over fire improved. The flames in the hearth now grew to twice their usual size with only two mana points. On occasion, he could summon a massive blaze, like the one on Sergius¡¯s birthday, using just three. One morning at the end of the tenth month, he balanced himself next to the kitchen bed, watching his mother sit on the rug as she examined the dresses she had just bought at the market. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage and, with a wobbly shift of weight, marched forward. He managed to move a few inches before toppling over, his knees crashing against his mother¡¯s.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Ma-ma¡ª¡± he groaned, startling even himself. He had meant to say, ¡°It hurts!¡± but he called for his mother instead. As his mother rolled him over, he braced himself for any exaggerated reaction, knowing that a baby¡¯s first word was a huge moment. ¡°Octavia! Fina!¡± his mother screamed, scooping him up and running toward the maids wiping the table in the backyard. ¡°He walked by himself, and he¡ªhe said ¡®mama¡¯!¡± His mother was tearing up, and Fina joined her. Octavia patted his mother¡¯s shoulder, and he swore he deserved congratulations more than anyone else around. Honestly, he felt like crying himself, having come so far from his banishment to this stage in his life. ¡°But why is his development so normal? I thought he would be running around by six months!¡± Fina exclaimed. Valrion couldn¡¯t tell if her tone carried excitement, praise, or sarcasm. Within the next few weeks, Valrion considered himself able to walk despite some falls along the way. His mother had never left his side during this time, except when she had to be in her study to work on taxes or write letters. It was a room he had never been allowed to enter, but he understood why¡ªhis mother likely didn¡¯t want him making a mess or accidentally burning any important papers. More of his teeth had come in, creating a bright, tiny grin that never failed to charm everyone around him. He had said ¡°mama¡± and ¡°papa¡± on many occasions. He even managed to respond to Octavia¡¯s ¡°bye¡± whenever she bade him good night after tucking him into bed. ¡°Valrion should only use your fire power at the hearth, okay?¡± his mother started saying more often as the year drew to a close. She wasn¡¯t the only one. He had never burned anything outside of the hearth, but recognizing his growing awareness of the world around him, his family seemed to agree it was time to set firm boundaries for his elemental power. They emphasized the hearth as the safest and most appropriate place for him to practice. The reminder became a steady part of their routine, delivered consistently like a prayer to ensure he understood its importance. The days seemed to slip by quickly, each one marked by his small but meaningful milestones. With the changing seasons, the air began to grow colder, and by the thirteenth day of the year¡¯s final month, he turned one year old. Around eight in the evening, everyone gathered in the dining room. His mother held him in front of the table, and his gaze was locked on the deep brown cake at the center, topped with chopped roasted nuts. They sang him a happy birthday song while clapping. The most surprising part was that his father also went along with it, looking somewhat awkward since he didn¡¯t crack a smile. ¡°Happy birthday, my son,¡± his mother whispered, kissing his cheek once the song ended. She sat down, placing him on her lap. Everyone else took their seats, except for Fina, who cut into the cake. ¡°The birthday boy has the first slice. Congratulations,¡± Fina said, handing a tiny slice containing everything: the frosting in the middle of two layers and outside and a sprinkle of nut outside the slice. Valrion¡¯s mother grabbed a slice, tore off a tiny piece, and brought it to his mouth. It was no bigger than her thumb, but Valrion understood why she wanted to be cautious. In one swift motion, he swallowed it, savoring the sweetness as his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. The texture of the cake was slightly rough, and he could immediately tell that ground hazelnuts had been mixed throughout. Besides the nutty flavor, there was also a strong taste of honey and cloves. This was the first time he had eaten something not given by his mother. He proudly declared it the happiest day of his mortal life. ¡°Mama,¡± he muttered, reaching for her wrist that held the cake. His mother laughed, understanding his request, and continued feeding him. Octavia and Sergius smiled at the sight before Fina served them the cake. From there on, the momentum kept building up. In the following months, he gained the strength to climb onto the bed in the kitchen. His walking became steadier, and he only fell when attempting to run. He also learned more complicated words, like ¡°come¡± and ¡°stop¡±, which he often used to call the maids or scold them when they fussed over his face too much. Before long, he celebrated two more birthdays in the kitchen. Being three years old, he no longer needed to be held like a baby, so he climbed onto the dining room chair himself and stood by the table, staring at what appeared to be a spiced apple cake. Thin slices of the fruit were arranged horizontally on top, coated with a thick layer of honey and dusted with cinnamon. It was better than last year¡¯s cake, and the best part was that he was allowed two large slices. ¡°Fina should open a bakery,¡± Valrion¡¯s father said. It must be his way of praising the cake. ¡°You¡¯re not the first to suggest that, Sir. I should¡¯ve thought of it before letting people around me steal all my money,¡± Fina replied, drawing chuckles from everyone in the dining room. Valrion¡¯s father simply scoffed and finished the last bite of cake in his hand. The universal truth that good food brought people together held true once again. Soon enough, the party was over, but the scent of cinnamon still lingered in the air. Valrion sat cross-legged on the rug, waiting as Octavia, Fina, and Sergius finished arranging the cleaned dishes in the dining room. He still needed someone to carry him to his cradle, so he threw himself back onto the rug, thinking how it was time to put his cradle back in the bedroom upstairs. Tomorrow, he could try asking his mother with his limited vocabulary. Perhaps ¡°mama,¡± ¡°sleep,¡± and ¡°up¡± would get the message across. He hadn¡¯t accidentally burned anything in almost three years, so they should trust him by now. ¡°Hey, Valrion.¡± Sergius stepped out of the dining room, his hands hidden behind his back. Octavia and Fina followed but stopped at the doorway as Sergius knelt in front of Valrion. Valrion sat up. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°We have another gift for you,¡± Sergius said. Valrion¡¯s eyes widened as Sergius revealed what he had been hiding: a longbow, a dozen arrows, and a pair of gloves¡ªeach perfectly sized for him. 21 - Flarehound’s Bow 21 - Flarehound¡¯s Bow Valrion grabbed the bow, wrapping his hands around it. His fingers brushed its smooth, pale surface. Its body had an almost ghostly white hue, and it was cool to the touch, sending a faint chill through his fingers. He could immediately tell this wasn¡¯t made of wood but of bone. Its frame was thin¡ªso delicate in appearance that it seemed it might snap if mishandled. Yet, when he tested its resilience with a light twist of his grip, the material proved sturdy. It was heavier than expected. He could imagine it causing serious injury if used to strike someone. Of course, that wasn¡¯t what it was meant for. His gaze shifted to the gloves that had been dropped onto the floor near Sergius¡¯s feet and the bundle of matching arrows Sergius held. Their shafts shared the same bone-like composition as the bow, creating a cohesive, albeit eerie, look. Bringing back his focus to the weapon in his hands, he traced its length with two fingers, inspecting it thoroughly. There were no carvings or engravings¡ªnothing to hint at the maker¡¯s identity. It would have carried their distinctive signature if it had been forged in his family¡¯s workshop. Then again, Sergius might have specifically requested a plain design, or perhaps it had been made elsewhere. ¡°Valrion.¡± Sergius¡¯s voice pulled him back to the room. He looked up to see the man watching him¡ªa grin on his face was a mix of pride and joy. Behind him, Octavia and Fina stood with their arms crossed, wearing similar expressions as if they had just handed him the most precious crown. ¡°Yes?¡± Valrion replied. ¡°Are you scared?¡± Sergius asked. Valrion went still for a moment before shaking his head. Sergius must have thought the fact that the bow was made of bones had bothered him. Sergius chuckled. ¡°They¡¯re made from the bones of flarehounds. Maybe one day, you¡¯ll slay one yourself and earn us a fortune.¡± Flarehounds. They were monstrous, wolf-like beasts that prowled the wastelands of Eru. Their ember-like fur constantly smoldered, sending wisps of smoke into the air. Their glowing orange eyes cut through the haze of ash and smoke with a predatory intensity. Valrion had never encountered them himself, but he knew their arrival would be hinted at by their howls¡ªominous crackles that sounded like fire devouring dry wood. Mortal hunters often spoke of the scorched trails flarehounds left behind. As hauting as they seemed, they didn¡¯t merely kill their prey¡ªthey incinerated it. A single exhale of their breath unleashed a blast of concentrated fire, reducing their enemies to ash in a flash. Even worse, they always hunted in groups where they would coordinate to form rings of flames, cutting off all avenues of escape. Their bones were highly valued for crafting materials designed to withstand intense heat. Once ignited, they burned steadily, needing neither fuel nor maintenance. Fortunately, everything has its own strengths and weaknesses, so the flames could be extinguished with water. Valrion couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much money his mother and the workers had spent on procuring this set of bow and arrows. ¡°So, do you like the gift?¡± Sergius asked another question. Valrion¡¯s fingers tightened around the bow as he met Sergius¡¯ eyes. How should he answer that? This bow¡¯s craftsmanship was remarkable. It was a fine weapon, meticulously made, but it didn¡¯t feel natural in his hands. The reason was simple: bows had never been his weapon of choice. Most gods could summon weapons from thin air, including Valrion. Those who hadn¡¯t yet mastered this skill, typically the younger ones, turned to blacksmiths for assistance. They weren¡¯t shaped from mortal materials like wood or steel but were forged entirely from pure divine essence. Valrion had always preferred spears. They were straightforward and efficient, requiring little more than strength to make a clean, decisive strike. Bows, on the other hand, demanded precision, patience, and careful aim¡ªqualities he found tedious in the heat of battle. By the time he adjusted his stance, drew the string, and lined up a shot, an enemy could already have closed the distance and struck him in the head.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! If spears weren¡¯t available, he would have opted for swords. While they lacked the reach of a spear, they were still far superior to the cumbersome requirements of a bow. With a sword, he could engage his opponent head-on, relying on instinct and movement rather than painstaking calculation. Decisiveness was a trait he valued above all else in combat. ¡°Yes,¡± Valrion said at last. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Good boy.¡± Sergius¡¯ smile widened as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a near whisper. ¡°Now, this is our little secret, okay? Just between us and your mama. Don¡¯t tell your papa. Starting tomorrow, I¡¯ll teach you how to use the bow. You get it?¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t I tell Papa?¡± Valrion asked, the words slipping out before he could think about it. Sergius raised an eyebrow, looking a bit surprised. ¡°Why? Well, because we want you to learn how to protect yourself, but your papa thinks you should always stay home. That¡¯s not fun, right? So, just keep this between us, okay?¡± Valrion pressed his lips together, turning over Sergius¡¯ words. It wasn¡¯t unusual for Eruvians to teach three-year-olds how to wield a bow¡ªsome even started as young as two. Swords, however, were introduced later, likely because close combat carried a higher risk of injury. The real issue wasn¡¯t the practice itself but his father¡¯s consent. His father hadn¡¯t brought it up since the night of the Aptitude Test¡ªnearly three years ago¡ªbut Valrion still remembered the heated exchange with Firmus and unwavering stance: he was not to fight. Even now, he didn¡¯t fully understand his father or what drove his strict decisions. All he knew was there must be a solid reason behind them. With his mother and the others on one side, that made four against one, but was it really okay to go against his father¡¯s wishes? Was his demand so irrelevant? ¡°He will be mad,¡± Valrion said, lifting the bow slightly. What he really wanted to say was, Man, are you sure about this? My father runs this house and pays all of you. What if you get fired over this? Sergius laughed. ¡°What a clever kid, but don¡¯t worry about your papa. We¡¯ve got it covered.¡± Octavia sighed and stepped forward, lowering herself to the floor beside Sergius. Her expression softened as she gently took one of Valrion¡¯s hands in hers. ¡°Listen. Your father doesn¡¯t think you¡¯re ready, but we do. You¡¯re stronger than he realizes. Isn¡¯t it good to know you can protect yourself?¡± Valrion stayed silent, his gaze fixed on her face. He searched for clues, hints of something hidden behind her words. He wanted to believe she was being honest, but seeing how things had been with her, he wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if there was more she wasn¡¯t telling him. ¡°I¡¯ll keep this safe for now,¡± Octavia said, taking the bow off his hands. She turned to Sergius and took the arrows and the gloves. ¡°Tomorrow, when you start practicing, I¡¯ll give it back.¡± She stood and headed into the dining room. The creak of a cupboard opening and closing carried through the silence. Her footsteps echoed as she walked back, and soon enough, Fina stretched with an exaggerated yawn, her movements slow and drawn out. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough excitement for one night.¡± She loosened her arms and straightened her back. ¡°Good night, everyone. See you tomorrow.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m heading out too,¡± Sergius said, ruffling Valrion¡¯s hair before standing. ¡°Sleep well, V. We¡¯ll practice after your breakfast, okay?¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Valrion said. As the others left the kitchen, Octavia picked him up and placed him in his cradle. She nestled him under the covers before walking away. The routine hadn¡¯t changed. She would change into her nightgown and return a few minutes later. Afterward, she would settle onto the bed across from him and pull the blanket up, snuggling into its warmth. For a while, calm reigned. Valrion stared at the ceiling, thoughts spinning in a chaotic haze. The bow, the arrows, the secrecy from his father¡ªit all weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Octavia shifted in her bed, breaking the stillness. Her voice was soft when she murmured, ¡°You looked so excited holding that bow, Valrion. Wouldn¡¯t it be wonderful if you grew up to become a fire summoner one day and made a difference for our people? You might actually have a chance, considering the Fire Eidolon belongs to our kingdom.¡± Valrion stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. [Main Quest updated: Capture the Twelve Eidolons] [EXP +25] [Capture the Twelve Eidolons (0/12) ? You learned that the Fire Eidolon exists within your kingdom and is owned by the kingdom itself. Discover what Octavia means by this.] Valrion¡¯s heart pounded with excitement. A shiver ran down his spine, and he barely resisted the urge to kick his legs, roll around, or squeal. The Handbook never recorded information that wasn¡¯t true or necessary. A summoner? Was it different from evokers? The Fire Eidolon belonging to the kingdom¡ªwhy did it sound so menacing? ¡°What¡¯s a summoner?¡± Valrion asked, turning his head to look at the maid. ¡°A summoner, hmm? They¡¯re, uh, chosen evokers. They make pacts with the eidolons,¡± she replied, voice heavy with exhaustion. ¡°Summoners summon the eidolons.¡± Her explanation was far too vague for his liking, so he frowned. Eidolons, as he understood them, were creatures of immense pride. Why would beings like them need to be bound to humans and summoned? ¡°What do you mean?¡± he urged, but Octavia¡¯s eyes were already closed. Her breathing was deep and steady¡ªshe had fallen asleep. She always drifted off quickly, but did it have to be now, just as the conversation was getting interesting? ¡°Octavia?¡± he tried again, but there was no response. Frustration simmered within him. The rest of the conversation would have to wait until morning, and the delay gnawed at him. He could have kept calling her name, but it had been a long day for both of them. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to disturb her further. Still, he couldn¡¯t deny the spark of excitement that grew in his chest. Finally, he thought. Finally, I have a lead on the Twelve Eidolons. 22 - Long-Overdue Explanations 22 - Long-Overdue Explanations Ever since Valrion began forming proper words around the age of two, he had been relentless in his mission to question his family about the terms he overheard. Naturally, at that age, constructing a sentence like, ¡°Can you explain everything about Eru over the past millennium, and perhaps tell me where the Twelve Eidolons are?¡± was impossible. Instead, his efforts consisted of fragmented words and enthusiastic gestures that only elicited amused chuckles from those around him. His first deliberate attempt to inquire about the Liberators occurred roughly two months after his second birthday. Much to his dismay, his family dismissed it as nothing more than typical toddler gibberish. In all fairness, the word ¡°Liberators¡± emerged from his lips as a garbled ¡°li-bla-blo¡±. When he tried ¡°evokers¡±, it resulted in breathy ¡°e-woo-hoo¡± as if he was blowing off on a hot spoonful of stew. As for ¡°escapees¡±, the word was too complex for his young mouth that even the most experienced midwife in Eru wouldn¡¯t understand it. ¡°Did you say ¡®eidolons¡¯?¡± his mother had asked once, startled as she watched him toddle around the side yard where a row of colorful flowers with small, delicate petals had been planted just a few months earlier. His heart swelled with hope as he nodded vigorously, eager to finally learn more. However, his word came out as ¡°ei-o-oh¡±, falling short of its intended meaning. He repeated it several times, but each effort was met with his mother¡¯s lighthearted laughter. She ended up playfully tickling his stomach, completely oblivious to his growing frustration. News of his father funding various missions related to the Liberatos surfaced from time to time, though it was always through hushed conversations among the maids as they went about their chores. Valrion even waited for a Liberators meeting to be held at his house or for Firmus to visit again, but it never happened. Deep down, he understood why it wouldn¡¯t have been the safest choice. He even tried pestering Octavia about why she hadn¡¯t gone on another mission since that one time when he was three months old, tugging at her dress or trailing her through the house. Each attempt emerged as jumbled, strained syllables. Mistaking his efforts for choking, Octavia panicked and screamed for his mother¡¯s help, sending the household into a frenzy. The more Valrion tried to communicate, the more his family regarded him as an overjoyed toddler with too much energy. Every word he managed to say was always labeled ¡°adorable¡± or ¡°cute¡±. Eventually, he gave up. Why bother when no one would take him seriously? Why try when everything he said was brushed off as meaningless babble? Though the exasperation tore at him, he resolved to channel his focus elsewhere¡ªstabilizing his walk or refining his elemental power. Those, at least, he could control. Today, the day after his third birthday, Valrion decided to find at least one satisfying answer to the questions that had lingered in his mind for years. His words were clearer now, and the timing felt right with what Octavia had shared the previous night. After breakfast with his mother, he let her disappear into her study, leaving him free to venture into the backyard. The early winter air was crisp, and a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground, barely concealing the patches of green grass underneath. Dried leaves were scattered across the yard, framed by slender trees stripped bare for the season. By the well, Fina sat surrounded by three baskets, diligently washing clothes. Nearby, Octavia hung freshly washed linens to dry. Her cheerful humming resonated through the yard with a new melody. As Valrion approached her, he couldn¡¯t help but imagine her as a world-famous singer someday. ¡°Octavia,¡± Valrion called, stumbling over the ¡°c¡± in her name, but he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Please answer.¡± Startled, Octavia turned, a linen sheet half-pinned to the line. ¡°Yes? Answer what, Valrion?¡± ¡°Promise you will,¡± he said, missing the ¡°r¡±. The maid chuckled, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. ¡°All right. I promise. What¡¯s your question?¡± He took a deep breath, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. ¡°What¡¯s a fire eidolon? And fire summoner?¡± The question hung in the air with a weight far beyond his three years. His pronunciation could use some work, but his gaze was unwavering. Surely, she would understand this time¡ªhe wasn¡¯t making up words. ¡°Oh. The thing I mentioned last night, yes?¡± she asked. He nodded. ¡°Eru has Twelve Eidolons. They¡¯re like, uh, our guardians. Do you know what a guardian is?¡± He nodded again. He didn¡¯t need any explanation about who the Twelve Eidolons were¡ª that much was already clear to him. What he truly wanted was to understand how the people of Eru now perceived them, but he couldn¡¯t yet articulate such a complex thought.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°All right,¡± Octavia began. ¡°The Twelve Eidolons represent the twelve elements of Eru. Fire is one of them, and since you have a fire element, it means the Fire Eidolon has blessed you with her power.¡± She paused, tapping her chin as if searching for the right words. ¡°How do I put this? Some eidolons belong to our kingdom. They fight alongside us. Summoners are chosen individuals who can call forth eidolons corresponding to their elemental power. Does that make sense? I¡¯ve used some big words. I think I¡¯m confusing you¡ª¡± ¡°We own eidolons?¡± Valrion interrupted, face scrunching into a frown. So Octavia wasn¡¯t spitting nonsense last night. Summoners were elemental wielders who could summon eidolons, but why was this necessary? How did this happen? With every revelation, his heartbeat quickened. ¡°Summoners make pacts with eidolons. That¡¯s how they can summon them,¡± Octavia continued, sounding more patient than before. ¡°Our kingdom has gathered four so far, radiance, wind, fire, and earth. That means we have four summoners in total. Summoners are high-ranked evokers. Evokers are elemental wielders who fight for the kingdom. They do all sorts of important things, like protecting us from the Empire and trying to locate the other eidolons.¡± Valrion¡¯s mind raced as he tried to process everything Octavia had said. The concepts of summoners, pacts, and ownership felt fundamentally wrong to him, stirring an uncomfortable dread within. He hesitated before asking, ¡°The Empire?¡± ¡°The Esperian Empire,¡± Octavia clarified. ¡°They¡¯re our enemies, I suppose. That¡¯s the simplest way to explain it.¡± Before Valrion could ask more, Fina appeared, carrying another basket of wet clothes, which she set down beside Octavia¡¯s. ¡°A history lesson, is it?¡± she chimed in. ¡°It¡¯s about time Valrion started learning about the world, especially since his family is always causing trouble.¡± ¡°But I think it¡¯s still too much information for him,¡± Octavia remarked. ¡°I¡¯m sure he barely understood half of what I said.¡± Fina chuckled. ¡°Aren¡¯t children curious about everything? If Valrion weren¡¯t, he wouldn¡¯t be asking all these questions.¡± ¡°How many eidolons does the Empire have?¡± Valrion interjected before the maids could continue their banter. It was the most complicated sentence he had ever managed, and somehow, it tired him a little. ¡°From what we know, three,¡± Octavia replied. ¡°Darkness, lightning, and ice.¡± Fina suddenly sighed heavily. ¡°Without the Radiance and Earth Eidolons, our kingdom wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. How else could we fend off the Empire¡¯s relentless attacks?¡± ¡°Attack? Why?¡± Valrion went on. ¡°Because everyone is a bad person who wants to rule the world,¡± Octavia answered nonchalantly as if it was normal for two nations to wage war over collecting eidolons. ¡°But why summon the eidolons?¡± With each question, Valrion sounded even more desperate. Fina shrugged. ¡°I heard it¡¯s because they love humans so much that they want to serve us.¡± Octavia laughed. ¡°Is that so? Not all of them seem particularly benevolent, though.¡± It was obvious that neither Octavia nor Fina had the answers Valrion sought. Valrion¡¯s thoughts whirled as he tried to assemble the bits and pieces of information. Could Heaven have cursed the eidolons? Was it connected to his rebirth a thousand years later? Something must have happened¡ª something lost to history, as humans likely wouldn¡¯t have accurately preserved records from long ago. Whether it occurred right after his banishment or much later, it didn¡¯t diminish the significance of the mystery. ¡°What about the escapees and the Liberators?¡± he let on another question. His pronunciation was still choppy but understandable. Fina¡¯s eyes widened briefly before narrowing playfully. ¡°Oh my, Valrion has been eavesdropping, hasn¡¯t he?¡± Octavia¡¯s expression darkened, and she hesitated before muttering under her breath, ¡°How do we explain this one now? ¡°Let me try,¡± Fina offered, lowering herself to kneel at Valrion¡¯s level. Her tone was calm as she spoke, ¡°The Kingdom forces all elemental wielders to fight for them whether they like it or not. These people are called the evokers. The Liberators? They¡¯re a group that opposes such a cruel rule. Your family is part of that. Do you understand?¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Valrion blinked, most of the answers already coming together in his mind ¡°And escapees?¡± Fina smiled again. ¡°Escapees are people who managed to escape from the military force.¡± [Main Quest updated: Capture the Twelve Eidolons] [EXP +50] [Main Quest updated: A New Era] [EXP +175] [Level 3 > Level 5] [Health increased to 297] [Mana increased to 31] [Capture the Twelve Eidolons (0/12) ? Your enemies aren¡¯t just the Twelve Eidolons but also the Kingdom of Luxellum and the Esperian Empire, both fighting to gain control over all eidolons. How will you navigate this volatile conflict?] [A New Era ? There¡¯s something off about how elemental wielders are treated in Eru. It seems your family is trying to protect them, including you, from the government, but you can¡¯t put your finger on what it is. At least you know that¡¯s why they don¡¯t seem too thrilled about your power.] By the end of it, years of his assumptions were correct, but he had also learned why his father rejected his elemental power. It all made sense now. No wonder Sergius had laughed that night, musing about how the kingdom might react if they discovered his ability. If they were desperate enough, they might have forced him into the military at an unnaturally young age. While expected, the validation felt like a burden he hadn¡¯t realized he was carrying had finally been lifted. Sunlight filtered through the fluttering clothes on the line, and a spark ignited within him. There was still one question left about the summoners, but the knowledge he had gained now served as a nudge, propelling him forward. ¡°Anything else, Valrion?¡± Octavia asked. When Valrion remained silent, she let out a small scoff, smiling softly before turning to exchange a few quiet words with Fina. Together, they began wringing out the damp clothes and hanging them on the lines. Valrion barely registered their conversation, his mind alight with newfound realizations that wouldn¡¯t quiet down. His gaze fixed on Octavia¡¯s face, studying the subtle shifts in her expression¡ªthe firmness in her jaw, the faint crease of concentration on her forehead. ¡°Octavia,¡± he said, his voice steady despite the sudden storm in his head. ¡°Are you an escapee?¡± 23 - The Theory of Reincarnation 23 - The Theory of Reincarnation Valrion¡¯s question seemed to catch Octavia off guard. Her expression stilled for a moment, clearly processing the implications of his words. Then, her face broke into a wide smile, and she burst out laughing. Even Fina, who was hanging clothes a few feet away, paused to glance at them with confusion before resuming her work. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re silly,¡± Octavia said playfully. ¡°If I¡¯m an escapee, then you must be reincarnated.¡± The response made Valrion jolt slightly, though he quickly regained his composure. To keep Octavia from suspecting anything, he forced a grin, masking his unease behind the innocent curiosity of a child. ¡°In-ca-na-ted?¡± he asked, drawing out the syllables as if the concept was entirely foreign to him. ¡°What is that?¡± Octavia¡¯s gaze softened as their eyes met. There was something unspoken in the way she looked at him¡ªa quiet, almost imperceptible knowing that made him wonder if she truly understood more than she let on. It was as if there was a shared secret bouncing silently between them. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she said, smiling as she returned to the clothesline. She picked up a shirt from the basket and adjusted it where it had snagged in the breeze. Her movements quickened, and Valrion noticed how her gaze seemed to flit around like she was deliberately avoiding his. Soon, she began humming again, resuming the melody from earlier. Her steady motions and calm demeanor gave the impression that everything had returned to normal, but Valrion¡¯s wariness refused to settle. Many Eruvians believed in reincarnation¡ªthe idea that a person would be reborn after death. Even so, they varied greatly. Some thought they would only be reborn within their own family groups as a collective of souls traveling together through eternity. Others insisted they would be reborn into the environment they had longed for in their previous lives. Some even claimed that the worst people would return as animals, paying for their misdeeds in unfavorable forms. When it came to eidolons, humans often asked what would happen to them after they died. It was one of the most common questions, though mortals didn¡¯t fear death itself as much as they dreaded the unknown that lay beyond it. Eidolons would usually respond with a calm smile and say, ¡°It¡¯s whatever you believe.¡± That was pretty much the truth. The free will of Eruvians extended even into the afterlife. Humans who imagined a land of edible clouds and shimmering glitters would find themselves there, while others wishing to be reborn as their daughter¡¯s grandchild would have their souls follow that path. Even those daring enough to dream of godhood might have their soul sent into the dreams of the divine¡ªthough no known instance of this had ever occurred. The people around Valrion were adults, and they weren¡¯t fools. With the way he had acted so far, it wouldn¡¯t be surprising if Octavia¡ªor even his parents¡ªhad considered the possibility that he was reincarnated. While their religion didn¡¯t seem to emphasize the concept, that didn¡¯t mean each one of his family members was strictly bound by its teachings. Would it matter if Octavia knew? If Valrion were to choose someone to trust in this world, it would be his parents, not the people working for them, no matter how nice they had been to him. On the surface, Octavia might have acted out of curiosity about his origin, but he couldn¡¯t be certain of their intentions. At least not now. Unwilling to linger on such a topic any longer, Valrion initiated another one, ¡°Octavia, I want to sleep in the bedroom instead of the kitchen.¡± Octavia paused mid-motion, looking at him again while raising her brow. ¡°Oh? All right. I¡¯ll talk to your mother about that.¡± ¡°Okay. Thank you.¡± Valrion smiled, standing there for a second as he contemplated whether there was more to add. When nothing came to mind, he turned on his heel and made his way toward the kitchen. [Level: 5] [EXP: 10/145] [Health: 297/297] [Mana: 30/31] As Valrion grew older, his mana regeneration had become faster¡ªit now took less than an hour to recover a single point, though he couldn¡¯t pinpoint the exact timing. His gaze landed on the blazing hearth, the flames leaping and crackling. The thought of using some mana to avoid reaching its limit crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. Saving everything for the upcoming practice session with Sergius seemed like the better choice. Shifting his focus, Valrion decided to find his mother and share his wish to stay in the same room with her again. Heading to the study near the common room, he noticed the door slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, he could see her seated at her desk, sorting through documents. Her hand moved steadily, organizing papers or jotting notes with a quill. Not wanting to disturb her concentration, Valrion stepped away and went to the front of the house. Sergius often spent his mornings tending the garden or chatting with passing neighbors, but the area was eerily quiet. If Sergius wasn¡¯t outside, he had to be somewhere nearby. It wasn¡¯t typical of him to leave after making a promise about their morning activity.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Valrion then considered the other possibilities: Sergius¡¯ room or the stable. Opting for the stable first, he found both family horses resting in their stalls, quietly matching the stillness of the side yard. Just as he was about to move on, a faint tinkering sound reached his ears. It was coming from the nearby shed. Valrion couldn¡¯t help but follow the noise, each step bringing the sound into sharper focus. He had never entered the shed before and hesitated briefly before stepping inside. The interior was a mix of organized functionality and practical clutter. Wooden shelves lined one wall, neatly stocked with tools¡ªhammers, awls, chisels¡ªalong with coils of rope and small clay jars filled with nails and metal pins. On the opposite wall, farming implements like hoes and scythes hung from iron hooks, their edges well-maintained despite clear signs of use. A sturdy cart was kept in one corner, its wooden frame reinforced with iron bands. The polished wheels gleamed, a testament to meticulous care and readiness for travel. While Valrion knew his family was financially comfortable, the sight of such an expensive possession still impressed him. To his knowledge, his parents had never used it¡ªor, if they had, it wasn¡¯t something he had witnessed. Near the back of the shed, Sergius crouched over a workbench, intently focused on repairing the sole of a worn shoe. The rhythmic rasp of a file against leather filled the space, occasionally interrupted by the sharp taps of a small hammer as he secured the edges of the sole to the shoe¡¯s base. The concentration on Sergius¡¯ face was unshakable, as if the world outside didn¡¯t exist. ¡°Sergius,¡± Valrion called after observing Sergius for a while. His voice broke the quiet, startling the man. ¡°Huh?¡± Sergius looked over his shoulder, his face tightening in surprise. ¡°How long have you been standing there?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s practice,¡± Valrion suggested. Sergius immediately loosened up and let out a chuckle. ¡°Oh, right.¡± It seemed Sergius had become so absorbed in his task that he had forgotten about their plan, but Valrion wouldn¡¯t make an issue of it. He watched Sergius set the hammer down and toss the shoe toward the corner where its pair rested. Grabbing a nearby rag, Sergius wiped his hands clean before gesturing toward the shed¡¯s entrance. Taking the cue, Valrion stepped out first, leading the way. They walked back toward the house through the backyard. Octavia and Fina were busy by the well, washing more clothes and too preoccupied to notice them passing by. Once inside the kitchen, Sergius retrieved Valrion¡¯s gloves, bow, and arrows from a shelf beside a rack of plates and bowls. The choice of such an accessible spot for storing the weapon likely meant that Valrion¡¯s father wouldn¡¯t have touched anything nearby. Valrion couldn¡¯t help but reflect on that. He realized he had never seen his father fetching his own food or drink¡ªhe was always served. It was a frivolous detail but one that spoke volumes. ¡°Wait here,¡± Sergius said before heading to the front of the house. Valrion waited, shifting slightly on his feet, wondering what Sergius was up to. Shortly after, Sergius returned, this time with Valrion¡¯s mother walking behind him. As soon as she stood in front of Valrion, she stooped slightly and ruffled his hair with a warm smile. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss my son¡¯s first archery practice for anything.¡± She held her eyes on him for a moment¡ªher expression was a blend of encouragement and affection. Valrion beamed at her, the corners of his lips lifting into a genuine smile. Her presence gave him confidence, and though he didn¡¯t say anything, his eyes should convey how much it meant to him that she would be around. ¡°All right, follow me,¡± Sergius said, breaking the moment as he motioned for them to follow. Valrion and his mother trailed behind him as he guided them to the other side yard. There, a straw-filled target bag leaned against a wooden post firmly planted in the ground. The setup was basic but efficient, and it didn¡¯t take Valrion long to realize it had been put together after his father had left for work. ¡°Let me help him with the gloves,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said, taking the pair from Sergius. She knelt in front of Valrion and gently slid the leather gloves onto his small hands. The fit was snug, providing a layer of warmth to shield him from the biting cold, and it also offered a slight cushion to ease the strain on his fingers from handling the bow. ¡°Stand here,¡± Sergius instructed after his mother was done, pointing to a spot beside him about ten feet away from the target. As soon as Valrion stepped into the place, Sergius handed him the bow and an arrow. Meanwhile, his mother positioned herself off to the side, her eyes watching attentively from where the flowerbeds, now barren from the season, stretched behind her. Valrion nocked the arrow but allowed it to slip clumsily from his fingers, feigning inexperience as if he had never held a bow before. Octavia¡¯s accusation echoed in his mind: You must be reincarnated. Worry crept through him as he glanced at Sergius. The man¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, and Valrion couldn¡¯t help but suspect that Octavia had shared her theory with him. ¡°Do you know how to use it?¡± Sergius asked. ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Valrion lied, his voice steady despite the confusion swirling within him. ¡°Here. Let me show you.¡± Sergius held out his hand, and Valrion passed him the bow. Letting all but one arrow fall to the ground, Sergius nocked it easily. He drew the string back and released it, striking just shy of the center¡ªa near-perfect shot. ¡°So cool,¡± Valrion cooed. Sergius glanced at him, his grin widening. Valrion couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Sergius had given him the bow earlier as a test, perhaps to confirm Octavia¡¯s suspicion. ¡°You¡¯re clever. Now, your turn,¡± Sergius said, handing the bow back. Valrion did his best to mimic Sergius¡¯ movements, but his arms trembled¡ªnot from pretense, but from genuine inability. The weapon felt strange in his tiny, mortal hands. It was a painful reminder of how far he had fallen from the effortless mastery he once commanded as a god. His first shot was a complete miss, the arrow flying far past the target. He braced himself for Sergius to laugh, but instead, the man gathered the fallen arrows and handed one back to him. ¡°Good job. Try again,¡± he encouraged. Frustration churned beneath Valrion¡¯s outward composure. Once, divine precision had been second nature to him. Now, he struggled with a task that should have been trivial. Following Sergius¡¯ instructions, he adjusted his stance and loosed another arrow. This time, it shot straighter but still failed to hit the target. ¡°Don¡¯t give up,¡± Sergius said, passing him another arrow. ¡°We¡¯ll keep going. Lunch isn¡¯t for another four hours.¡± Valrion didn¡¯t groan at the idea. Instead, eagerness to rise to the challenge took hold. 24 - Hits and Misses 24 - Hits and Misses The cool morning air nipped at Valrion¡¯s cheeks as he held the bow, trembling under its weight. Sergius stood behind him, not just watching or handing over arrows but actively guiding him. Each adjustment Sergius made was purposeful: straightening his arms, bending his knees properly, and ensuring his grip on the bow was firm yet relaxed. Valrion took a deep breath, nocking his third arrow. His fingers wobbled as he aimed¡ªthe tension in his small frame was palpable. The release was abrupt and clumsy, sending the arrow veering far to the right of the target. It struck the ground with a thud, kicking a puff of snow. ¡°Don¡¯t rush,¡± Sergius advised, handing Valrion another arrow. ¡°Breathe in, breathe out. Take your time.¡± Valrion accepted what would be his fourth attempt. He secured the nock on the string and drew the bow again, recalling Sergius¡¯ instructions: steady arms and legs, calm grip, and controlled breath. The bowstring hummed as he released it, but the arrow drifted off course, landing just short of the target. ¡°Better than before,¡± Sergius said. Stepping closer, he adjusted Valrion¡¯s stance¡ªstraightening his back and angling his arms a tad. ¡°Relax more and let the bow do the work.¡± I know, but this mortal body is different, Valrion thought to himself. His brow furrowed with concentration. He nocked his fifth arrow with renewed focus. Exhaling steadily, he let the string slip from his fingers. The arrow flew through the air and hit the edge of the target, clinging to the outer rim. ¡°Good job!¡± his mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Her enthusiasm reached her eyes, eliciting a sense of pride within Valrion. ¡°Yes, good job,¡± Sergius repeated, giving him another arrow. ¡°Loosen your shoulders. Don¡¯t be too tense there.¡± Valrion¡¯s lips twitched into a smile as he fixed his posture. He hadn¡¯t expected Sergius to be this patient. From what he had observed, Sergius seemed like the type to speak bluntly if things weren¡¯t going well, even to a child. Yet, despite Valrion¡¯s mediocre attempts, Sergius remained calm and encouraging. It might have been too soon to judge if this treatment would last, but something about Sergius¡¯s behavior felt genuine. His words didn¡¯t seem like a mere act of tolerance but a natural extension of who he truly was. Just thinking about that possibility gave Valrion an extra boost of confidence to keep trying. ¡°Ready for another?¡± Sergius asked, pulling Valrion back from his thoughts. Valrion nodded, hands tightening around the bow. The next series of shots were a mix of hits and misses. Valrion¡¯s sixth arrow soared too high, vanishing into the thicket beyond the target. The seventh glanced off the side with a dull clink, while the eighth was no different, burying itself in the ground just a few feet away. His ninth shot came closer to the center, and the tenth, almost like the fifth, grazed the target¡¯s edge. ¡°Not bad, not bad.¡± Sergius gave him an approving nod. Valrion grinned despite the growing ache in his arms and shoulders. He was starting to get a feel for handling the bow with his shorter limbs, though it was clear that mastering consistency would take many more sessions. When all the arrows were spent, Sergius went to retrieve them. He plucked each one from its resting place¡ªlodged in the dirt, stuck in the target, or scattered nearby¡ªand gathered them into his hand. As Sergius returned, Valrion took the opportunity to check the Handbook. [Level: 5] [EXP: 10/145] [Health: 297/297] [Mana: 31/31] ¡°Can I use my fire?¡± Valrion asked, even before Sergius arrived at his side. ¡°Huh?¡± Sergius frowned before shaking his head. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Hit the target first, then you can.¡± Valrion sighed, scanning the yard for something random to burn. A pile of dry leaves by the hedges near his mother caught his eye, tempting him, but he knew better. If he got scolded and suspected of being a naughty kid, he might lose the chance of moving to the bedroom or even practice. ¡°Focus,¡± Sergius urged, offering him another arrow. With a huff, Valrion grabbed the arrow and redirected his focus to the bow. He drew the string again, his tiny arms growing steadier. The arrow flew straighter, striking close to the perimeter of the target. ¡°Your form is better. Keep it up, yes?¡± Sergius said. For the next ten minutes, Valrion and Sergius worked in coordination, forming a steady pattern. Valrion focused on his task, nocking each arrow and drawing the bowstring as steadily as his underdeveloped body allowed. The arrows rarely found their mark¡ªmany strayed off course, planting themselves in the dirt or sailing past the target entirely. Each attempt carried the same focus and intent, as if this time might finally be the one. All the while, his mother¡¯s loud support never stopped.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Sergius always quickly collected the arrows whenever they ran out. Whether hidden among the snow, tangled in the bushes, or barely clinging to the edge of the target, he retrieved them without a word of complaint. When he returned, he passed one back to Valrion, and the cycle repeated. Their activity came to a halt when Octavia and Fina wandered over from the backyard, their laughter cutting through the quiet focus of the practice. ¡°Look at him go!¡± Octavia teased, clapping her hands in exaggerated applause. ¡°Our little archer!¡± Valrion¡¯s face flushed as he lowered the bow. Sergius, however, didn¡¯t look amused. He glared at the two, and it wasn¡¯t him to look remotely angry like now. ¡°Go back to your chores. You¡¯re distracting him,¡± Sergius said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Octavia pulled a dramatic pout, clearly unfazed by the reprimand. ¡°What¡¯s your problem? We¡¯re just cheering him on.¡± Fina¡¯s expression was gentler than the other workers when she looked at Valrion. ¡°Will you show us at least one shot? I promise we¡¯ll leave afterward.¡± Valrion glanced at Sergius for approval even though he didn¡¯t need it. Once Sergius gave a curt nod, Valrion raised the bow, carefully settling into his stance. He drew the string back, his focus locking onto the target. Squinting his eyes, he released the arrow. It arced through the air and stabbed into the ground right in front of the target. Valrion¡¯s shoulders slumped, disappointment weighing on him. He had hoped the maids¡¯ presence might motivate him more, but reality seemed to enjoy mocking his efforts. ¡°Aww, don¡¯t mind it! In a week, you¡¯ll be hitting every bird flying by!¡± Octavia said. ¡°Okay, enough,¡± Sergius cut in. ¡°Go prepare lunch.¡± Octavia stuck out her tongue at him before linking arms with Fina and tugging her away. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Good luck, Valrion. Hunt us some food one day,¡± Fina added before she and Octavia turned around and walked away, their chatter fading into the distance. The practice continued, but Valrion¡¯s arms grew weary after thirty more minutes. His fingers began to throb, each pull of the bowstring leaving them tender and numb. When his last arrow struck the ground, Sergius didn¡¯t hand him another. Instead, he held out his hand, and Valrion blinked at him, confused. ¡°It¡¯s almost been an hour, and it¡¯s getting cold,¡± Sergius said with a smirk. ¡°I was just joking earlier. We¡¯re not practicing for four hours. One hour is more than enough. You did well. Good job.¡± Valrion didn¡¯t know why he had trusted Sergius when he claimed they would practice for four hours. In theory, it wasn¡¯t implausible. It sounded entirely reasonable to him that someone could train nonstop for that long, but perhaps it was the novelty of doing something¡ªanything¡ªoutside after so much idle time in the house that made him overlook how exhausting even one hour was for someone his age. As Sergius slung the bow over his shoulder and went to collect the used arrows, Valrion¡¯s mother approached him. She knelt down and cupped his face with her hands. Her touch was cold, the chill biting against his skin. Instinctively, he placed his own hands above hers. ¡°You should wear gloves,¡± he mumbled. Her smile was lovely, as it had always been. ¡°All right. I¡¯ll keep that in mind. You did wonderfully, my love. I¡¯m proud of you.¡± Valrion managed a small smile in return as she brushed her thumb over his cheeks. Right after, she carefully removed his gloves and rose to her feet, taking his hand in hers. Sergius joined them soon, walking back with the arrows secured and the bow slung over his shoulder. Valrion¡¯s mother handed the gloves to Sergius before they all headed back toward the house together. Sergius opened the side door for them, stepping aside to let them in first. Valrion and his mother made their way to the kitchen, where they both collapsed onto the rug in front of the active hearth, soaking in its warmth. Sergius proceeded to the dining room, placing the weapon and gloves in their previous hiding spot. The day had been exhausting, but for Valrion, it was as fulfilling as the quiet joy of his birthday evenings. Alas, he sat up as the thought of his mana crossed his mind. Turning to face the hearth, he extended his hand and summoned small balls of fire. Each flame merged seamlessly with the existing blaze, their intensity carefully controlled to avoid alarming his mother. It didn¡¯t seem to matter since the suddenness of his actions had confused her, proven by how her jaw dropped. [Level: 5] [EXP: 10/145] [Health: 294/297] [Mana: 0/31] ¡°What¡ªwhat happened?¡± his mother asked as she pushed herself up, using her arms for support. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m okay, Mama.¡± Valrion laughed innocently. There was no way he could explain that he had done it on purpose to drain his mana so it wouldn¡¯t go to waste and could regenerate for tomorrow. His health had taken a small hit, likely from the archery practice, but it was fine. What was important was that his mana was now zero, just as he had wished for an hour ago. ¡°Crazy baby. Aren¡¯t you tired?¡± Sergius said, standing near the doorway to the dining room. Valrion glanced at him, and Fina¡¯s earlier words about him hunting some food came to mind. He hadn¡¯t left the house since his reincarnation. He knew his family was being cautious and protective of his ability, but after three whole years, the confinement became too much. He hadn¡¯t seen the local market or even visited a neighbor¡¯s home. The fact bothered him now more than ever. As Sergius was about to leave the kitchen, Valrion called out, ¡°Sergius.¡± Sergius stopped mid-step and turned to face him. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I want to hunt with you,¡± Valrion said without hesitation. What was there to lose by asking? If anything, it would only showcase his resolution and cleverness. Sergius averted his eyes to Valrion¡¯s mother, silently gauging her reaction before looking back at the boy. ¡°That¡¯s up to your mother. Your father will definitely say no, though.¡± Without missing a beat, Valrion turned to his mother, his expression instantly transforming into one of pleading. He even forced his lower lip to tremble, though he wasn¡¯t sure how convincing he looked. His mother¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waver. Reaching out, she pinched his nose gently. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡± Valrion grabbed her arm, giving it a light shake. ¡°I¡¯m ready, Mama.¡± ¡°I said I¡¯ll think about it, okay?¡± Her smile deepened, but there was a subtle harshness in her voice that made it clear the discussion was over. Recognizing the hint, Valrion reluctantly let go of her arm and pulled his hands back. 25 - Body Ache 25 - Body Ache As a baby, Valrion often took up to four naps daily, each lasting about three hours. By the time he turned one, this had reduced to one or two naps, usually around two hours each¡ªone before lunch and one after. This pattern continued until the present moment, but the one thing that never changed was his need for about ten hours of uninterrupted nighttime sleep. It was this consistent habit that ensured he woke up refreshed and ready for the day, even as his daily routines shifted with age. Over the years, people had gifted him various wooden toys¡ªcarved animals with smooth edges, tiny wagons with rolling wheels, and even puzzles with pieces that fit together to form shapes. These trinkets, often considered treasures by children his age, held little appeal to him. His soul was too old, too aware, to find joy in such things. He would touch them occasionally, but only when boredom crept in so deeply that even sitting still felt unbearable. The family never commented much on his disinterest. The most they said was that he seemed more interested in mastering his fire abilities than playing with toys, an explanation that suited him just fine. Since he learned to walk, Valrion used his extra hours to help around the house. At the well, he often stood beside Fina, carefully rinsing vegetables under her watchful eye, though he always wished he could chop them too. On other days, he helped Octavia fetch firewood or carry baskets of dried clothes from the line. In the front garden, he often worked alongside Sergius, hauling bundles of weeds or fetching tools when needed. His contributions, though small, were met with warm smiles and words of appreciation. They gave him a sense of purpose, especially during periods when the Handbook was unchanging. Recalling the childhood memory, Valrion had once believed the room on the second floor¡ªwhere a basket of fangs had fallen and hit his head as a baby¡ªwas an important and mysterious chamber. To his surprise, it turned out to be nothing more than a storage room. He had helped the maids tidy up dried herbs or reorganize dusty shelves there. There had never been secrets shared about the place, unlike the intriguing murmurs about the Liberators that sometimes reached his ears. Occasionally, he would come across oddly shaped fangs or peculiar bundles of dried grass. Fina and Octavia would laugh, explaining that these were ingredients for remedies, saving them from spending extra money at the apothecary. The explanation was concise and reasonable, and Valrion didn¡¯t think much of it. Not everything had to carry a deeper meaning. When Valrion woke up in the afternoon after his first archery lesson, he wandered to the side yard where he had practiced with anticipation. His steps slowed as he noticed the space was empty. The target bag and wooden post, which had stood there just that morning, were gone, leaving no trace of their existence. He stared at the barren yard, disappointment rising in his chest. He had hoped there might be another session later in the day, something to look forward to. ¡°Valrion.¡± His mother¡¯s voice broke the stillness from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see her walking to him with a broad smile. ¡°What are you doing out here?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he replied quickly. ¡°Is that so?¡± She followed his gaze to where the target bag had once stood, chuckling like she knew the truth. ¡°Octavia told me about your wish to move back to the bedroom. You can start tonight.¡± His eyes brightened, and a smile spread across his face. ¡°Really?¡± She nodded. ¡°Really.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. ¡°Mama,¡± he added, realizing that he should be kinder. She laughed lightly. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now, don¡¯t stay out here too long. Let¡¯s go inside.¡± Valrion had no choice but to follow her. While it wasn¡¯t as chill as the morning, the warmth he got from sitting by the hearth was far more appealing. There wasn¡¯t much to do here, anyway. For the rest of the afternoon, Valrion lingered in the dining room, where Fina had prepared ginger tea and biscuits. This familiar routine during the colder months was one he enjoyed. He nibbled on one biscuit after another, his ears tuned in to the lively chatter of the women. They shared tales about neighbors and acquaintances¡ªpredictable stories of repeated human mistakes. Though Valrion didn¡¯t say a word, their energetic voices and occasional bursts of laughter made even the dullest topics worth hearing. As the evening settled, the family gathered for dinner. Valrion¡¯s father sat at the end of the table next to his mother, his distant presence unchanged. The hearty aroma of carrot soup and venison filled the room, causing Valrion¡¯s stomach to grumble louder. Valrion eased himself into his seat, surprised by the ache that flared in his upper body.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Sergius caught his eye and gave him a subtle smile as if saying, You¡¯re doing well. His father, thankfully, didn¡¯t spare him a glance. Focused on the bowl of soup that Fina had served, Valrion grimaced as his sore hands struggled to grip the spoon. He hastily masked the discomfort, lowering his gaze to avoid drawing attention. As usual, the conversation centered on Fina¡¯s cooking, with everyone praising her skills and discussing ideas for tomorrow¡¯s breakfast. Undoubtedly, this discomfort was caused by the morning¡¯s activity. He had forgotten how a mortal body needed time to adapt to exertion, and from what he knew, the sensation would at least be doubled the next day. The following morning, it did occur. Valrion woke up feeling as though his entire body had been pricked by a thousand needles. When he tried to roll over, a sharp jolt of pain froze him in place. The soreness had crept into his legs and lower back, making even the smallest movement a challenge. Across the room, his mother stood in front of the wardrobe, sorting through clothes. Noticing his stirring, she set her work aside and approached his cradle. ¡°Good morning. You don¡¯t look fine. Are you okay?¡± she asked, standing beside him. Valrion stretched his limbs, wincing as the stiffness in his body grew worse with each passing second. [Level: 5] [EXP: 10/145] [Health: 272/297] [Mana: 31/31] ¡°It hurts,¡± he murmured. There was also [Status: Wounded] in the image¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t seen in years. How long would this last? Three days? Four? ¡°What hurts?¡± ¡°This.¡± He pointed toward his left shoulder, even though it was more than that. His mother should have understood by now. ¡°Oh. Hold on,¡± his mother said before dashing out of the room. She returned moments later with a small jar of ointment. Opening the lid, she scooped out a dollop and hovered her fingers near his arms, trying to guess where it hurt. Valrion pushed her hand away lightly. ¡°Let me do it myself.¡± ¡°Huh? What?¡± ¡°I do it myself,¡± he insisted. She frowned. ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± His response was firm. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, she offered him the jar. He scooped a small amount of the cool ointment with his forefinger and spread it over his left shoulder. The balm felt smooth under his touch as he made sure to cover every spot that required it. Taking another portion, he applied it to his other arm with the same deliberate care. His mother stood nearby, her gaze filled with both pride and concern. Perhaps there were other three-year-olds who were just as independent, but he wouldn¡¯t blame her for feeling a bit sad. Her little boy was growing up quickly, after all. Maybe he should ask her to stop bathing him next time, but this might not do much since she would still stay nearby, ready to assist if needed. ¡°Done?¡± his mother asked when he stopped getting more of the ointments. ¡°Done,¡± he said. ¡°Okay. Wait here, all right? I¡¯ll put back the ointments,¡± his mother said. As soon as he nodded, his mother left. It took him longer to return since she was carrying a basin of water and cloths. His morning routine unfolded as usual. After ensuring he was clean and ready, his mother led him downstairs. Most mornings, the scent of cinnamon spread through the first floor, but his attention was taken by how the kitchen looked different now. His cradle and Octavia¡¯s bed had been replaced by shelves that were supposed to be there three years ago. With Octavia, Fina, and Sergius bustling around carrying goods from the backyard, Valrion didn¡¯t need to ask what they were doing. ¡°How are you feeling, Valrion?¡± Sergius greeted him with a warm smile. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡ª¡± ¡°His body is sore from yesterday¡¯s practice,¡± his mother interjected. ¡°I just applied some ointment for him.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Sergius said, laughing. ¡°Do you want to rest today, or do you still want to practice later?¡± ¡°I want to practice,¡± Valrion decided without a hitch. It might have been preferable to take a break, but he didn¡¯t feel like it. At the very least, a half-an-hour session wouldn¡¯t kill him. It wasn¡¯t as though he had much else to do. ¡°You¡¯re a miracle baby,¡± Sergius joked, laughing at his own words. Throughout the winter, Valrion practiced archery with Sergius for one hour every morning without fail. While his mother initially watched, her interest gradually faded as the weeks passed. She had other responsibilities, and Valrion didn¡¯t mind that. Sergius¡¯ guidance was enough to keep him focused and motivated. Slowly but surely, his aim sharpened, and his strength increased. By spring, Valrion¡¯s progress was evident to see. He could hit the target more often than not, and the discomfort that crawled in his body every so often had gone completely. Once awkward and cumbersome, the bow now felt more natural in his grip. Even Sergius acknowledged his improvement, sometimes uttering promises like, I could hunt with you soon! Though they were just empty words. The new season brought vibrant changes to the land. The snow-covered yards turned lush with sprouting greenery, and the days stretched longer with golden light. One evening before dinner, as the last rays of sunlight cast warm hues across the kitchen, his mother approached him while he quietly watched the maids chop some fish. ¡°Valrion,¡± his mother began. ¡°Do you want to come to the market with me tomorrow?¡± His eyes widened. Did he hear it right? ¡°Let¡¯s come with me to the market tomorrow,¡± his mother repeated, snickering. ¡°Really?¡± he asked. ¡°Really,¡± his mother affirmed. ¡°Of course, Mama,¡± he said. His mother laughed harder at his reaction, reaching out to ruffle his hair. ¡°Good. You¡¯ll need to wake up early.¡± ¡°I will,¡± Valrion noted, already imagining the sights and sounds of the market¡ªa world beyond the confines of the house he had wanted to see. 26 - The Market Trip 26 - The Market Trip Morning light streamed through the window, casting a glow across Valrion¡¯s cradle and illuminating his face. He opened his eyes, fingers curling around the edge of his blanket as excitement coursed through his veins. Today was the day. After three years of confinement within these walls, he would finally venture beyond them¡ªto the market his mother had often described. The scent of honey and wildflowers announced his mother¡¯s presence before she appeared beside his cradle, wearing a simple yet elegant light blue dress, its hem swishing against the wooden floor. Her hair was neatly braided over one shoulder, and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as they met his. ¡°Good morning,¡± she greeted, reaching down to stroke his cheek. ¡°Why are you smiling like that? Are you ready for your first trip to the market?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Valrion replied, a grin spreading across his face. His mother laughed before lifting him from the cradle. She carried him to the changing table, where their morning routine began, but today felt different. Every movement was charged with an anticipation that made even the simple act of wiping his face feel significant. The outfit she had chosen for him was new: a finely tailored tunic of rich cream-colored linen adorned with intricate embroidery that traced elegant patterns around the collar. Unlike the plain shirts he typically wore, this garment felt luxurious against his skin, its soft fabric carefully selected for this momentous occasion. Once dressed, his mother walked with him to the dining room, where Octavia and Fina were already seated at the table, their faces bright with enthusiasm. A hearty breakfast of warm rye bread, honey mixed with milk, sliced meat, and fresh fruit awaited them, filling the air with familiar aromas. ¡°Look at you, Valrion!¡± Octavia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she clasped her hands. ¡°You look like a true noble today!¡± ¡°Finally, after three years of being hidden!¡± Fina chimed in. Valrion smiled shyly. ¡°I promise not to burn anything.¡± The room erupted in laughter¡ªthe happy tune was like a comforting embrace. This was the first time he had cracked a joke ever since he was born. Whether divine or mortal, making others laugh would always bring him joy. As he began eating with the others, Valrion couldn¡¯t help but smile at Octavia and Fina, who eagerly urged him to try every stall they could think of. He had wandered through Eru before, sometimes cloaked in a protective veil that kept him hidden from mortal eyes and other times, he simply blended in with them. He could still remember the lively sounds of vendors calling him, packed stalls brimming with wares, and the laughter of children playing in the streets. What he desired now was different. He yearned for the opportunity to learn more about this new Eru¡ªto uncover its mysteries and explore the changes that had transformed it since his banishment. Of course, there was no way he could tell this to anyone. After finishing breakfast, Valrion used half of his mana at the hearth, saving the rest in case something happened at the market. Then, he and his mother made their way to the side yard, where the horses were kept. Sergius was already there, checking the saddles and reins, ensuring everything was ready for their journey. His sword was securely fastened to his right thigh. The older horse, Centurion, stood patiently as Valrion and his mother came over, his coat gleaming from a fresh brushing. Beside him, the younger horse fidgeted with barely contained excitement. ¡°Everything¡¯s prepared, my lord and lady,¡± Sergius greeted lightheartedly, giving Centurion¡¯s neck an affectionate pat. Valrion¡¯s mother smiled, adjusting her grip on the horse¡¯s mane. ¡°Thank you, Sergius. Would you mind holding him while I help Valrion mount?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Sergius replied, stepping forward. Valrion, sturdy on his feet, took a confident step toward the horse, his tiny fingers clawing at the coarse mane as he climbed into the saddle with his mother¡¯s help. To Valrion¡¯s surprise, it was Sergius who settled behind him, wrapping one arm around him to ensure his safety while the other was holding the horse¡¯s reins. Valrion¡¯s mother mounted the other stallion beside them, smiling when looking at him.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Hold on tight, Valrion,¡± Sergius instructed. Valrion reached forward to grasp the saddle¡¯s pommel, his hands clutching tightly as the horse began to move. As they descended the hill, Valrion observed the world around him with fascination. The houses, built of stone and timber, grew closer together, their paths merging with the main road. The sound of hooves against cobblestone echoed through the crisp morning air, accompanied by the distant bustle of the awakening town. Finally, they reached the town center, and the sounds of the market grew louder¡ªa lively chorus of voices and commerce that Valrion had never before experienced since his rebirth. His heart thumped faster as he caught his first glimpse of the bustling square, its awnings flapping gently in the breeze, creating shades of red, yellow, and green that matched the brightening sky. Sergius and Valrion¡¯s mother guided their horses carefully, navigating through the crowds of people. Valrion felt the pulse of the energy as they moved deeper into the marketplace, chattering rising and falling around him. There were cackles of laughter, the sharpness of people bargaining, and the enthusiastic calls of vendors hawking their products. The air was also thick with enticing aromas: the sweetness of freshly baked bread, the warm spices of exotic goods, and the savory smokiness of grilled meats. At last, they arrived at a quieter spot on the edge of the market, where their horses could be safely secured at a row of stalls managed by men tending to them. Sergius expertly guided Centurion to a sturdy wooden post, dismounting first and tying the reins securely. Adrianna followed, ensuring her own mount was tethered beside his. ¡°There we go. All set,¡± Sergius announced, then turned his attention to Valrion and helped him down. Valrion¡¯s mother held his hand tightly as they began walking through the market with Sergius right behind them. They passed stall after stall, each one more intriguing than the last, drawing Valrion deeper into the market life. A woman in a bright yellow dress caught his eye. Her stall was overflowing with an array of glistening fresh fruits¡ªcrimson apples, bright oranges, and deep purple plums. Across from her, a man showcased handmade pottery, his wares arranged with care. Each piece was unique, some embedded with intricate designs that shimmered under the sun. Valrion marveled at the craftsmanship, imagining how cool and smooth the pottery would feel against his fingertips, yet he hesitated to ask to touch them. Moments after, the enticing smell of freshly baked bread wafted toward him. Four bakers lined the pathway, each displaying loaves stacked high, their deep golden crusts perfectly browned. Valrion¡¯s mouth watered at the sight. The thought of tearing into a warm loaf made him want to try them all. Further along, a fishmonger drew Valrion¡¯s attention with his dazzling display of fish, certainly caught that very morning. The scales glinted like jewels in the sunlight, and the distinctive scent of the sea mingled with the air. He called out to passersby, holding his catch with pride in both hands, while Valrion¡¯s eyes widened at the variety¡ªsome fish were long and sleek, others round and plump. Each time, Valrion would try to listen to every conversation around him, hoping to catch any mention of the evokers, summoners, eidolons, or anything significant related to them. So far, he consistently found that the discussions centered on the people¡¯s own needs or debates about which seller would offer the best prices. ¡°Adrianna, your friend is over there. She¡¯s been glaring at us for a while,¡± Sergius remarked, gesturing toward a stall adorned with colorful fabrics. ¡°Valrion, those are fine silks from the eastern lands. You should feel them.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother nodded. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go say hi.¡± As they approached the stall, a middle-aged woman with a jovial smile waved them over. She had a red scarf draped around her neck. ¡°Adrianna! What a pleasure to see you! Is this Valrion?¡± When Valrion met her gaze, he bowed slightly. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡± ¡°Well, isn¡¯t he raised well?¡± The woman grinned. ¡°Valrion is seeing the market for the first time today,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother explained. The woman bent down to meet Valrion¡¯s eye level. ¡°What a handsome boy you are! Look at those eyes¡ªjust like your father.¡± Valrion looked away at the compliment. Growing up, everyone in the house had praised his looks, but this was the first time he received such attention from a stranger. If this had been heaven, admiration would have been shared in whispers, reserved for private moments rather than open displays. ¡°Come, come!¡± The woman reached up to unfasten the scarf from around her neck and draped it over Valrion¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You must feel this silk. Tell me what you think about it.¡± Valrion¡¯s fingers traced the luxurious material, and he looked up at the woman, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s smooth.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± She laughed. ¡°You have a good taste. One day, you¡¯ll be picking the finest fabrics for your ladies.¡± Valrion scoffed at the thought of such praise, but his attention was soon drawn to another stall where a man with a bushy beard was selling collections of wooden toys. The man barked at the children lining up in front of the display, who did nothing but reach out to touch the toys, shoving them away with scowls. They were just a little older than he was. Solemnly, he watched as they returned to a group of ragged people huddled together at the edge of the market. Their faces were smudged with dirt. Parts of their clothes were tattered. Their wide, hungry eyes told a story of hardship and neglect. Older individuals sat among them with their weathered hands outstretched, seeking coins from passersby. The contrast between the lively market, filled with laughter and vibrant colors, and the plight of the poor children tugged at Valrion¡¯s heart. It was as if he was reliving the time when he walked in the Eruvian market as a god. The stalls looked the same, the visitors behaved the same, and the poor were also the same. He knew this was bound to happen everywhere he went in the mortal world, but the last time it happened, he had given these people some food. Right now, shouldn¡¯t he also do the same? 27 - Street Dwellers 27 - Street Dwellers The longer Valrion stared at the group of people, the more the cheerful market sounds faded into the background. Several were visibly ill, their faces pale and drawn with exhaustion. Others curled asleep on the uncovered ground while flies buzzed around their feet. The sight of a frail child shivering and clutching a tattered blanket made his chest tighten. ¡°You know, V,¡± Sergius sidled up to Valrion, following his gaze. ¡°Even I feel bad that I just stand here and watch all this. Aren¡¯t we so fortunate?¡± Valrion glanced up at Sergius, his eyes narrowing with concern. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we help them?¡± Sergius stepped back toward Valrion¡¯s mother, who was still happily chatting with a scarf seller nearby, unaware of her son¡¯s observation. He reached out and gently poked her arm, drawing her attention. ¡°Those street dwellers,¡± he said, nodding in the direction of the group. ¡°Valrion wants to know if we can give them some food.¡± She turned to face the huddled figures, her expression shifting from one of contentment to a more pensive one before she stared at Valrion. ¡°What is it, my son?¡± Valrion pointed toward the group, his small finger as straight as it could be. ¡°Can we give food to them?¡± His mother¡¯s eyes grew tender. She should have known how genuine his wish was. She glanced back at the group, clearly contemplating the request. Valrion watched as her gaze lingered on those people, and the tension in her brow revealed a hesitation. Her fingers twitched at her side as if caught between reaching out and holding back. Why did she even need to think this over? This was the first time he felt a spark of anger toward his mother. He studied her, searching for signs of compassion, but he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was bound by the same mindset that many Eruvians held: ¡°If you want to eat, you have to work.¡± There were countless reasons why some couldn¡¯t find one so easily¡ªphysical and mental illness, family duties, or the harshness of life that seemed to punish so many. It was a truth he had learned during his time in Heaven, where he watched the many sufferings of humans and could not interfere much. If only every Eruvian could see beyond the surface and understand the complexities of each other¡¯s lives. If compassion could blossom in the hearts of others, perhaps this planet could become a kinder place where no one would have to starve in silence. Then again, he might not understand humans enough. ¡°Please, Mama?¡± Valrion insisted, refusing to give up. After a moment¡¯s pause, his mother heaved a sigh. ¡°All right. Let¡¯s see what we can do.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Valrion said, smiling, though he couldn¡¯t let go of his disappointment. Was his mother actually one of those people who didn¡¯t care about others far beneath her? He had only seen how she acted around the workers at the house, so he might need to keep watch over her from now on. With Sergius trailing closely behind, Valrion¡¯s mother led him back to the previous area where four bakers had set up their stalls, each vendor begging for attention beside and across from the other. She stopped by one stall in particular, where an older baker stood with a warm, inviting demeanor, overseeing his array of baked creations. A rustic wooden table displayed crusty rolls neatly arranged in woven baskets, while sweet pastries, glistening with honey and dusted with sugar, were temptingly arranged on a cloth-covered tray. Valrion¡¯s eyes lit up with delight at the sight, and the rich aroma caused him to drool slightly, but he quickly reminded himself of the task at hand. ¡°What do you want to get for them?¡± his mother asked, her gaze sweeping over the baked goods. Valrion had assumed she knew this particular seller, but it seemed that was not the case. ¡°Anything is fine,¡± he replied. He didn¡¯t know the price of any of these breads, and he understood if his mother would opt for the cheapest option. What truly mattered to him was that the hungry were fed. His mother pondered for a moment before deciding, ¡°Okay. Sir, I¡¯ll have some rye buns.¡± She remained where she was as the baker offered her a wide, toothy smile. With careful hands, he picked a few of the golden-brown rye buns and placed them into a paper bag. Meanwhile, she reached into the pouch at her waist and pulled out some coins. After the baker set the bag on the table before her, he accepted the payment, the coins disappearing into the pocket of his flour-dusted apron. ¡°Thank you, madam. Please enjoy,¡± the baker said. ¡°Can I carry them?¡± Valrion asked, raising his hands eagerly. His mother glanced at him for a second before handing him the bag. Immediately, he felt a comforting warmth radiate against his palms. As they made their way back, excitement overwhelmed Valrion so much that he almost skipped steps along the way. Thankfully, he quickly reminded himself to be careful¡ªthe last thing he wanted was to trip and send the buns tumbling to the ground, where they would be dirty and unfit for sharing with humans. If everyone in the market knew he was actually the oldest among them, they might have made fun of how his heart brimmed with joy at the mere thought of helping others. He wouldn¡¯t mind because he knew he wouldn¡¯t have cared much about their opinions.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. As the distance between him and the impoverished group lessened, Valrion broke into a run, skidding to a stop before them. He thrust the bag of rye bans toward the man seated at the front. ¡°Do you want some food?¡± Eyes filled with curiosity and hope turned toward him, their expressions brightening the somber atmosphere. Even those sleeping got woken up, jaws dropping at the unexpected offer. The man¡¯s hands trembled as he accepted the gift and set it down among them. The children sitting at the back leaped forward, their faces radiating pure gratitude. Loud ¡°thank yous¡± and other grateful exclamations echoed through the air as they reached inside the bag, eating the bread while sharing it with the others in perfect harmony. Contentment spread through Valrion¡¯s chest as he witnessed the glimmer in their eyes. Something deeper than mere joy stirred within him¡ªa knowing that he did something kind and right. Yet even as he basked in the warmth of giving, an unsettling thought crept in when he looked around the place: how could this bustling market, overflowing with abundance, leave not a single food for these people? Glancing at his mother, he noticed how she looked like she didn¡¯t want to be here any longer. A troubling question arose¡ªwere these poor individuals actually despised by society? Even so, he wouldn¡¯t understand that since even the most evil souls still deserved life¡¯s necessities, such as daily meals and decent shelter. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Valrion,¡± his mother called soon after. Valrion sighed. Just as he was about to leave, a familiar voice emerged from the shadows of the market stalls. ¡°It¡¯s been a while. How are you all?¡± Stepping into the view was a hunched elderly man, his threadbare coat hanging loosely over a frail frame. Deep lines carved into his face and his sunken eyes made Valrion¡¯s heart sink. It took him seconds to recognize the man¡ªthe very one who had tried scamming his family years ago. It felt as if it was just yesterday when that happened. The elderly man halted after he was just a few feet away from Valrion and his family, his eyes reflecting longing and nostalgia. Valrion expected Sergius to move in front of him, to shield him from the man, but the guard remained still. Valrion¡¯s mother, however, seemed tense and guarded. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you all here,¡± the elderly man greeted, his gaze settling on Valrion. ¡°You¡¯ve grown so much. You look just like your father.¡± An awkward silence enveloped them, heavy with unvoiced thoughts. Sergius and Valrion¡¯s mother exchanged quick glances as if urging one another to speak, but neither could find proper words. Sergius even tipped his chin, clearly encouraging his mother to do something about the situation. ¡°How¡ªhow are you, Sir?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother finally asked. ¡°Just about to buy some groceries for dinner. How are you all?¡± the elderly man replied. Another uncomfortable pause stretched between them. Valrion¡¯s mother and Sergius looked at each other again, and Valrion considered helping by randomly talking about some toys or something. ¡°I¡ª¡± the elderly man began, lowering his gaze. ¡°I¡¯m still sorry for what I did that time. I was desperate for my grandson¡¯s medicine and didn¡¯t know what else to do. It¡¯s not like we have a radiance wielder around to help us for free.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s eyes fluttered before her expression softened. She smiled gently toward the man, her hands coming together in a clasp as if seeking balance amid the uncertainty. Valrion watched them, learning a reason he had never known and wondering if he should consider the man¡¯s information regarding the radiance eidolon. Elemental users weren¡¯t obliged to help anyone who asked them, so this might not mean anything. ¡°It¡¯s in the past,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother cooed. ¡°We all make mistakes, especially when we¡¯re left with no other options.¡± The elderly man curled his lips. ¡°I understand, but¡ª¡± ¡°You also sent us those berries, and I really appreciated that,¡± she added. Those berries that you burned? Valrion thought. Gratitude was evident on the man¡¯s face¡ªhis expression mellowed, and he struggled to suppress a grin. The air grew heavy with another silence, but this time, the man offered a small, respectful nod toward Valrion¡¯s mother, a silent acknowledgment of their shared history. ¡°Well, then, I will take my leave now,¡± he said, his voice steady as if he were closing a chapter of an old book. Without waiting for a response, he walked away, blending into the ever-shifting sea of people. It took a moment for Sergius to shake off the tension by laughing aloud. Valrion¡¯s mother couldn¡¯t help but join in, but her laughter was more gentle than the man¡¯s. ¡°Wow, I didn¡¯t expect that at all! I haven¡¯t seen him in a while!¡± Sergius stated. ¡°Well, shall we just move on?¡± she suggested. Valrion looked at the people around him who had almost finished their food before nodding toward his mother, ready to explore more of the market¡¯s offerings. His gaze landed on a candy stall where a man around Sergius¡¯ age worked with precision. His hands moved swiftly as he pulled and twisted golden strands of heated sugar hanging on an iron hook. Steam rose from the copper pot beside him, sending out a sweet, calming scent. Valrion might finally ask his mother to buy him some packs to bring home and share with the others. ¡°Wait a moment!¡± Valrion¡¯s mother gasped even before they took another step forward. Her hand instinctively reached for her side. The smile faded from her lips as panic crossed her face. Sergius frowned. ¡°What¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°My pouch! It¡¯s gone!¡± Valrion¡¯s stomach dropped as Sergius let out a startled ¡°huh¡±. Could this really be happening? It didn¡¯t seem like his mother was just joking around as her eyes darted around, trying to find the culprit. The whole thing felt like a scene torn straight from the pages of a fantastical tale, not something he ever imagined experiencing in his own life. Observing his surroundings, his gaze locked onto a little girl among the people he had just helped. She clutched a rye bun tightly in one hand. Her round eyes jumped nervously between Valrion and the scenery behind him. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say more but didn¡¯t know how to. Soon, she pointed toward the far end of the market with her other hand¡ªthe area where they had come from after buying bread. A child dressed like them was running that way, quickly disappearing into the mass of people. Valrion tugged at Sergius¡¯ sleeve and gestured toward the girl. Understanding dawned on Sergius¡¯ face as he followed Valrion¡¯s indication. With a click of his tongue, he sprinted off in that direction, pushing through the crowd. [Limited Quest unlocked: Retrieve Mother¡¯s Lost Purse] [Time left: 08:00] Valrion¡¯s jaw tightened in disbelief as the Handbook materialized before him. A limited quest? The timer ticked down by three seconds before the display vanished, leaving him breathless. He had never encountered anything like this before, and that was precisely why it urged him to act. Who knew what kind of reward would be given to him? The word ¡°limited¡± wasn¡¯t there for no reason. Without a second thought, he bolted forward, driven by an instinctive gut feeling before doubts could intervene. ¡°Valrion?¡± His mother¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. ¡°Hey!¡± ¡°Wait there, Mama!¡± he shouted over his shoulder, glancing back just long enough to see the worry on her face. He shifted his attention to Sergius, who was moving further away.
28 - A Limited Quest 28 - A Limited Quest Valrion¡¯s short legs burned beneath him as he dashed through the crowded market. He hadn¡¯t noticed it before since he was always holding onto his mother, but at just three years old, everything around him was enormous. The towering stalls bursting with trinkets and the busy shoppers bustling about¡ªthey could easily collapse and stomp on him if he wasn¡¯t careful. It was only now that he thought: what if the quest could be done without his involvement? What if Sergius managed to catch the thief and bring them back in under eight minutes without breaking a sweat? Of course, he would believe it more that he would need to contribute something for the Handbook, his personal guidance, to consider it complete. With every step, Valrion felt his heart racing wildly in his chest, each beat carrying a mix of thrill, persistence, and a hint of worry. The fact that he was just a kid seemed to work in his favor¡ªpeople who noticed him instinctively cleared a path, the way parting like waves before a ship. They appeared startled, their eyes widening in surprise, but at least they wouldn¡¯t want to hurt a little boy. ¡°Sergius!¡± he yelled, his tiny voice barely rising above the sounds of merchants haggling and children giggling. He squinted ahead, focusing his utmost on Sergius, who would disappear within seconds if he didn¡¯t try to avoid bumping into people, which slowed him down a lot. Valrion wished Sergius would hear him, but then again, if Sergius turned back, even for a moment, it could cost them the thief¡¯s trail entirely. Torn between wanting to be noticed and not wanting to jeopardize the chase, Valrion went on, committed to keeping up no matter what. He could only run after Sergius, hoping that he wouldn¡¯t be left behind and fail the quest. [Time left: 07:21] As he rounded a fabric stand¡ªnot his mother¡¯s friend¡¯s¡ªValrion spotted a flash of red fabric slipping into the pathway, nearly tripping him. Fiercely, he leaped forward, almost tumbling as his small feet slammed against the cobblestones. It was quite a miracle that he managed to regain his balance and push forward. He then zigzagged through the street, vaulting over a stall laden with oranges, sending the fruit rolling into the path of alarmed shoppers. The sound of squished fruit broke as people gasped in surprise. One vendor, a burly man with a thick mustache, barely saved his crate of vegetables that tumbled after the thief, his face clouded with annoyance and shock. ¡°Hey! Watch it!¡± he shouted at Sergius, even though it was clearly not the man¡¯s fault. His arms flailed in a futile attempt to regain control over his produce. [Time left: 07:05] Sergius kept running forward, undeterred by the chaos, and Valrion had no choice but to follow. He couldn¡¯t miss Sergius, Sergius couldn¡¯t lose the thief, and the thief couldn¡¯t escape with his mother¡¯s money. As the quickened, the atmosphere became a swirling blur of motion. Stalls toppled around them, vendors shouted in confusion, and the crowd parted when needed, creating a narrow path amidst the commotion¡ªall bewildered by a single commotion. Once in a while, Valrion glanced at people¡¯s faces, and Sergius might need a long time to explain to them later. The thief seemed to be a professional, as Valrion observed a deliberate pattern in their movements. They darted left and right with practiced precision, clearly trying to mislead and confuse their pursuers. It would still work, even if the chasing happened in a narrow market street. [Time left: 06:48] Soon, Sergius turned into an alley, and an idea sparked in Valrion¡¯s mind. He decided to take a shortcut through a similar lane closer to him. If the thief tried to double back, Valrion might be able to intercept them. If not, the worst that would happen would be that he would end up a few steps behind Sergius. The shortcut led Valrion to a quieter stretch of the market, where the crowd had thinned and the stalls dwindled to none. His first guess was wrong¡ªthe thief didn¡¯t retreat but pressed forward¡ªbut it didn¡¯t matter. Valrion¡¯s resolve burned as brightly as his focus. He could still see the thief and Sergius in the distance, their chase far from over. As Valrion navigated ways around a few children his age playing with sticks and stones, drawing on the ground, he caught a better glimpse of the thief: a boy slightly taller than him. What kind of irony was it that he was a son of a well-to-do family, yet that kid had to steal from his mother? Valrion realized that his strides grew shorter and slower. He began to feel the fatigue creeping in, especially in his legs. The thief was about to run toward another alley that should have brought him to the outside of the market, but Valrion noticed several wooden crates stacked near them, spilling slightly over the edges. [Time left: 06:03]If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. An idea sparked in his mind¡ªhe could use his elemental power to block the way. He should have more than enough mana for it. However, the children watching might be smarter than he thought and could snitch on him to the adults. Then again, he or Sergius could just lie and pretend they didn¡¯t know a thing. He chose not to dwell on whether it was the right thing to do, focusing instead on the urgency of the moment. Drawing on the warmth within him, he concentrated as best as he could. With a quick raise of his hand, he unleashed a burst of fire that struck the crates, sending them tumbling over with a loud crash. Noise rippled through the area, breaking the silence of the once-quiet area of the market. Barrels and debris toppled chaotically, sealing the path in an impassable tangle. Flames danced upward, creating a fiery barrier that left no room for escape. Cornered by the sudden blockade, the thief froze. Sergius arrived soon after, seizing the thief and bringing the chase to an end. [Limited Quest completed: Retrieve Mother¡¯s Lost Purse] [EXP +80] [Level: 5] [EXP: 90/145] [Health: 295/297] [Mana: 13/31] That was a lot of EXP gained in such a short time. Valrion would love to spend some time figuring out how to get more of those limited quests, but he had more urgent matters to attend to. Quickly, he ran toward Sergius. The thief lay curled up on the ground, hiding their face with his shabby coat. Sergius knelt on one knee, his hand firmly pinning the thief¡¯s arm down. The crates burned at a safe distance, posing no immediate danger to any of them. ¡°Ser¡ª¡± Valrion began. ¡°That was careless of you!¡± Sergius snapped, glaring at Valrion. The harsh tone made Valrion jolt in surprise. If he had to list the most unexpected events in his life, Sergius yelling at him would be one of them. The man¡¯s eyes burned with frustration, the rare display of anger throwing Valrion off entirely. ¡°I¡¯m sor¡ª¡± ¡°We told you not to use your fire in public! I thought you were smarter than this! Who told you to follow me even?!¡± Sergius gritted his teeth, glancing at the direction from where they came from. Valrion followed Sergius¡¯ gaze. The children playing from before were gathering. There were also new spectators¡ªadults¡ªwho started to show up from the inner market. How funny of him to have expected Sergius to praise him instead. Right now, he could only wish that no one would suspect the fire to be coming from either one of them. ¡°So reckless,¡± Sergius muttered, but his words were cut short as their attention shifted to the thief, who had started to sob uncontrollably. Sergius forced the thief to turn around, shoving him slightly. To their surprise, the thief was a girl with short hair. She looked up at them with wide, frightened eyes, tears streaking her dirt-smudged face. Any trace of mischief was absent from her expression¡ªall that was seen was pure fear. Letting out a long sigh, Sergius began, ¡°Little girl, why did you do that?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡± she stammered, her voice trembling. Valrion took a moment to process her words, noticing the way her body shook slightly as she spoke. ¡°I asked, why did you do that?¡± Sergius continued. ¡°I was just hungry,¡± she replied. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡ªI just wanted to buy more food.¡± The sincerity in her tone struck Valrion deeply. He couldn¡¯t ignore the rawness in her confession, and it drove him to question Sergius¡¯ approach, wondering if there was another way to handle this without adding to her fear. There must be one, but he couldn¡¯t think of any. Sergius frowned. ¡°We already gave you bread, and that wasn¡¯t enough?¡± The girl fell silent. Her crying became louder. Sergius sighed once again. ¡°This is why it¡¯s so hard to help people like you. You¡¯re just a kid, but already making choices that lead to this kind of trouble.¡± Valrion couldn¡¯t fully agree with Sergius¡¯ harsh words. Was the girl truly at fault for her actions? If anyone deserved blame, it should be her family. Where were her parents? Why hadn¡¯t they provided her with enough to eat or protected her from ending up in such a desperate situation? At the same time, Valrion could understand Sergius¡¯s anger¡ªeven his mother, if he wanted to stretch it further. They had helped, yet these people still demanded more by acting immorally. This was one of those moments when Valrion couldn¡¯t decide whom to defend, but if he really had to choose, then Sergius was more right than wrong. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Sergius asked. His tone softened, though a trace of authority was still present. ¡°Amelia,¡± she whispered. ¡°Where¡¯s the pouch you took, Amelia?¡± he demanded. The girl stayed silent, staring at the ground. ¡°I won¡¯t ask again. Where is it?¡± he repeated, sharper this time. Still, Amelia didn¡¯t respond. Valrion watched in disbelief. How could she remain stubborn, even now, when the truth was already out? Sergius rummaged through Amelia¡¯s pockets, clearly left with no other choice. It was difficult for Valrion to see the whole thing, especially as she squeezed her eyes shut and tears streamed down her cheeks. Her expression carried desperation that spoke of years of hardship. At the same time, this had to happen. She had to return what didn¡¯t belong to her. ¡°All right,¡± Sergius said after finding Valrion¡¯s mother¡¯s pouch inside the left pocket of Amelia¡¯s coat. Without hesitation, he shoved the girl away, his movements harsh and unyielding. ¡°Be gentle!¡± Valrion protested, slapping Sergius¡¯ arm, but Sergius didn¡¯t even flinch. It frightened him to see Sergius like this, so different from his usual lighthearted self. He could only hope Sergius wouldn¡¯t stay mad at him for long. Even worse, he might not be able to leave the house again. Valrion turned his gaze to Amelia. Her cries became louder, her body shaking as she struggled to contain her tears. Sergius inspected the pouch, squeezing it as if confirming its contents, and fixed a cold glare on Amelia. Was this really Sergius? This reminded him of the moment he discovered Octavia¡¯s second job. There was still so much he didn¡¯t know about the people around him, even those he thought he understood best. ¡°Let¡¯s go back,¡± Valrion suggested. Honestly, Valrion couldn¡¯t decipher the expression on Sergius¡¯ face. His gaze shifted between him and Amelia, looking as if he could have left them alone here and wouldn¡¯t feel any guilt. Did this mean Sergius was disappointed in both of them? How should Valrion react if Sergius really saw him in the same light as a pitiful thief? ¡°Yeah,¡± Sergius said, rising to his feet and pulling Amelia up with him. He gripped her collar firmly, and together, they began making their way back through the chaotic market, ignoring the curious stares and murmurs of those watching. Valrion followed silently behind, his mind recalling everything that had just happened. 29 - Second Apology of the Day 29 - Second Apology of the Day As they retraced their steps through the market, Valrion noticed the stares that followed them. The vibrant energy of the square faded the moment they walked by. People paused in their tasks, their whispers barely audible as they watched them move. The remnants of the chase¡ªfallen crates and scattered produce¡ªwere the obvious reason for the treatment. The fruit seller from earlier turned out to be a beautiful young woman. She was tall, with deep red lips that seemed to underscore the anger simmering in her gaze. Her glare fixed on Sergius as he passed, her posture rigid with resentment. Before her stall, a dozen squashed oranges lay scattered on the ground. Though she said nothing, her sharp glare clearly explained her displeasure. ¡°I¡¯ll pay for the damage. Wait there,¡± Sergius said, motioning to the woman with his free hand before focusing on his task. Trailing behind Sergius and Amelia, Valrion could tell that the girl had stopped trembling. Her tears had also subsided, though she still sobbed once in a while. Valrion¡¯s legs still burned from the pursuit, but the ache in his chest was far worse. Words crowded his throat, unspoken. Several thoughts crossed his mind: what would happen to Amelia, would Sergius really tell his mother about him using his elemental power, and what would happen to him afterward? Above all, he was still frightened of Sergius¡¯ silence. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was anger or calculation, and it really bothered him. He took a few quick steps forward, positioning himself on Sergius¡¯ other side and glancing up to meet his eyes. ¡°Will you really tell my mother what happened?¡± Sergius kept his gaze forward. ¡°I have to, right?¡± Valrion couldn¡¯t believe how terrified he became over this. He tried to take several deep breaths¡ªthis was what many humans would do to calm themselves down¡ªbut it didn¡¯t change a thing. If there was something that would soothe him, it would be Sergius deciding to keep that incident a secret, which was unlikely to happen. As soon as Valrion saw his mother, her face lit with relief at the sight of them. Just as they were about to reach her, a woman rushed toward them from among the street dwellers. ¡°Amelia!¡± the woman shouted. She darted to Amelia and harshly pulled her away from Sergius. Their dark-colored eyes and similar jawlines mirrored one another. Even the slight wave in their hair seemed to match, as though nature had carefully crafted them from the same mold. Despite the dirt on their clothes and the strain on their faces, the resemblance between them left no doubt that they were mother and daughter. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Amelia said in a halting whisper, her voice cracking as the woman dragged her forward. ¡°Apologize now!¡± Amelia¡¯s mother barked, pushing her down. She dropped to her knees alongside her daughter, bowing deeply until their foreheads touched the dirt. ¡°No, don¡¯t do this!¡± Valrion¡¯s mother begged, kneeling quickly to stop them. ¡°It¡¯s okay, please get up!¡± Amelia¡¯s voice quivered as she repeated, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°We¡¯re very sorry!¡± her mother added, sounding so desperate. ¡°We didn¡¯t mean for this to happen! I should have kept a closer eye on her!¡± Valrion¡¯s mother hesitated for a moment before gripping the woman¡¯s shoulders, gently but firmly attempting to pull her up. The woman¡¯s resistance was resolute, her knees pressing harder into the ground as if forgiveness could only be achieved through this act of humility. Despite the tension, Valrion noticed the absence of disgust or condescension in his mother¡¯s demeanor. Earlier, he had thought he might have misjudged his mother¡¯s compassion, assuming it extended to just the workers at home. Now, seeing her willingly touch those who might not have bathed in weeks, he couldn¡¯t help but regret ever doubting her. Human behavior, he realized, was as unpredictable as ever. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Really, it¡¯s okay,¡± his mother said. ¡°We all make mistakes.¡± If the situation weren¡¯t so serious, Valrion might have laughed. This was the second time his mother had received an apology in less than thirty minutes, and her response was identical to the first. Word by word. After a while, Amelia and her mother rose, with the girl clinging to her mother¡¯s side. They bowed their heads one final time before returning to their group¡ªtheir gazes were cast downward. Her mother gave her a sudden slap on the back, surprising everyone who saw it. Thankfully, it happened only once. The girl had clearly endured enough.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Sergius handed the pouch he had been holding to Valrion¡¯s mother, the jingle of coins sounding lovely to the ears. ¡°What a day.¡± ¡°Truly,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said. ¡°Do you want to continue around?¡± ¡°I think let¡¯s just head back.¡± ¡°I think so, yeah.¡± This had been a lackluster day. Valrion didn¡¯t get exactly what he came for, and it was a shame that he couldn¡¯t explore the rest of the market. However, he understood that there was no way his mother and Sergius would listen to his request. Looking on the brighter side, he could at least leave his house and learn that the market situation in Eru hadn¡¯t changed. He was about to walk away when his gaze landed on the candy seller from before. At the very least, his mother and Sergius wouldn¡¯t mind stopping at a stall just ten steps away. This might be his only chance, knowing his mother might not indulge him after learning about his earlier actions. He had to make the best of the situation while he still could. ¡°Mama,¡± he called. ¡°Can I get some candies?¡± ¡°Candies?¡± His mother¡¯s gaze flicked to him and then to the stall. ¡°Hmm? Have you ever had that? How do you know they¡¯re called candies?¡± His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly stammered, ¡°People around say they¡¯re candies.¡± ¡°Oh, is that so?¡± she said, a smile shown on her lips as always. He glanced at Sergius, who looked at him briefly before turning away. Valrion couldn¡¯t tell if Sergius had just added this as another piece of evidence about his origin or if he was simply still upset with him. Valrion¡¯s mother headed toward the candy seller first, and Valrion ran after her, with Sergius following casually behind. Valrion¡¯s gaze roamed the baskets filled with colorful candies, indecision gripping him for a moment before he settled on a bag of red, yellow, and green sweets that resembled thick worms. The vibrant hues promised a burst of flavor, which he was certain was fruity. ¡°I¡¯ll have those.¡± Valrion pointed toward the colorful candies. ¡°All right. A mix of those?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked, to which he responded with a nod. Then, like with the baker, Valrion¡¯s mother told the seller what Valrion requested and gave him a few coins. This time, however, she also fastened her pouch around her waist, and the bag given to them was considerably smaller. ¡°How much? Ten times the price of one rye bun?¡± Sergius joked, laughing while shaking his head. Valrion looked around, realizing he hadn¡¯t seen another customer visiting the stall. Sugar, it seemed, was no longer a scarce luxury, but its rarity still lent it a certain charm¡ªa small treasure that not everyone could afford. He hadn¡¯t thought about this before. ¡°All right. Thank you.¡± Valrion¡¯s mother grabbed the bag and handed it to Valrion. Right away, they resumed their journey to the other side of the market, and Valrion walked between his mother and Sergius. As they got closer to the beautiful fruit seller, Sergius suddenly muttered a ¡°hold on¡± and ran toward her. Without hesitation, he handed over a few coins as reimbursement for the earlier mess from his own pouch. They exchanged a few genial words, as evidenced by how the woman appeared so calm before Sergius left. ¡°All good?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked when he rejoined them. ¡°That little thief caused quite a bit of trouble,¡± Sergius explained. Valroin¡¯s mother nodded slowly, seeming to understand without needing the full details. They continued on, the crowd thinning and the market¡¯s noise fading out of hearing as they saw the spot where they had tied their horses. Valrion glanced at Sergius, who hadn¡¯t said much, even though he had begun the trip by introducing so many sellers to him. Even at home, Sergius wouldn¡¯t have gone five minutes without speaking. An idea emerged, and Valrion nudged Sergius¡¯ arm. ¡°Do you want some candies?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Sergius replied. Valrion took out two pieces of candy and handed them to Sergius, but the man returned one, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°Thank you,¡± he added. Valrion popped the candy into his mouth, the burst of sourness drawing a small gasp before a grin spread across his face. Sergius followed suit, his reaction just as exaggerated. That made Valrion chuckle, and for a moment, he was reassured. Perhaps Sergius had forgiven him after all. At the stalls, Valrion¡¯s mother handed a few coins to two men tasked with watching over the horses. As before, Valrion mounted the horse with Sergius while his mother rode alone. They set off, the sun climbing higher into the sky, casting a brighter light over the town. Though the air had warmed, it still carried the chillness of spring¡ªit was nothing compared to the heat of summer. The streets grew busier, with more people bustling about, their movements creating a steady hum of activity quite different from hours earlier. ¡°Do you think Amelia will be okay?¡± Valrion asked Sergius. The horses¡¯ hooves loudly clattered against the uneven path, but Sergius should still be able to hear him. ¡°She will be,¡± Sergius answered. The answer was simple, and Valrion wanted to believe it. The image of Amelia¡¯s mournful face appeared in his mind but was quickly replaced by another: himself standing in his room later at night, being scolded by both of his parents and sentenced to never leaving the house for an entire year. ¡°Are you not going to tell my mother?¡± Valrion asked again. The question hung in the air, unanswered at first. Sergius¡¯ pause felt endless before he finally responded, ¡°Later.¡± His tone was heavy, implying no room for argument. No matter what Valrion did, he knew Sergius wouldn¡¯t change his mind. Since being reborn into this world, he had realized that much of his life was dictated by others due to his age. It just had been a while since he was so acutely reminded of that fact. The rest of the journey passed in silence. Valrion¡¯s mind wrestled with many what-ifs, unable to find peace no matter how many deep breaths he took. As they approached the final stretch leading to their home, the landscape opened up, revealing the familiar outlines of the estate. The sight should have brought relief, but instead, it only amplified Valrion¡¯s worry. 30 - Words Left Unsaid 30 - Words Left Unsaid As they arrived back home, Valrion¡¯s mother and Sergius led their horses to the side yard and stopped once they reached the stalls. Sergius dismounted first before helping Valrion down. Valrion¡¯s mother followed shortly after, gracefully smoothing her dress as soon as her feet touched the ground. ¡°Thank you, Sergius,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said, offering him a warm smile. ¡°No worries,¡± Sergius replied as he led both horses toward the stalls. His tone was casual, but Valrion caught a fleeting glance from him¡ªa look that carried a hint of frustration and worry from earlier. Valrion watched Sergius for a moment before turning to follow his mother, who was already making her way toward the house. The earlier events of the day still occasionally replayed in his mind, the tension from the market chase clinging to him like a shadow. He was tired and eager to head to bed soon, but he immediately ran to the kitchen to seek Octavia and Fina. When they weren¡¯t there, he went to the backyard, where they were wiping and beating the dust out of the common room¡¯s tapestry with cloths. It hung on a wooden frame near the clotheslines, swaying slightly in the cool morning breeze. Clutching the bag of candies in his hand, he dashed over to them. ¡°Octavia! Fina! The two women paused their movements, their eyes widening as they caught sight of him. As he reached them, he held out the bag and opened it, revealing the treats inside. ¡°Candies!¡± Octavia shouted, leaning closer to examine the bag. ¡°Take some,¡± he urged. ¡°Are you sure? These must have been costly,¡± she asked, hesitating. ¡°Go take some,¡± he repeated. She exchanged a glance with Fina, a shared amusement evident in their expressions. She finally reached in, taking just one candy, and Fina followed suit. ¡°Just one?¡± Valrion wondered, raising an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s fine. We¡¯re not that fond of sweets,¡± Fina replied, though her words rang hollow. She baked far too many desserts to claim otherwise. Their reluctance likely stemmed from guilt over the candy¡¯s price, as Octavia had pointed out. ¡°All right,¡± Valrion said, letting it go. ¡°How was the market?¡± Octavia asked as she put the candy into her mouth. Her face scrunched up at the sourness, while Fina¡¯s reaction remained composed. It was obvious that everyone had different thresholds for strong flavors. Valrion¡¯s gaze flickered briefly to the ground. ¡°It was an interesting day.¡± ¡°Did you enjoy it?¡± Fina was the one who responded since Octavia seemed to be unable to do so for trying to chew the candy. ¡°Yes, I want to go there again soon,¡± Valrion said. There was no way he could be completely honest about what happened. Soon, they should know the truth themselves from Sergius or his parents. ¡°I¡¯m dying here,¡± Octavia muttered, causing Valrion and Fina to laugh. After a while, Valrion realized there was nothing more for him to do in the backyard. The maids continued their work on the tapestry, and he didn¡¯t want to intrude on their duties. ¡°I¡¯ll go get some rest. I¡¯ll help you later,¡± he said to Octavia and Fina. They both nodded in acknowledgment. With a small wave, Valrion turned around and made his way back inside. He set the bag of candies down on the kitchen table and went to look for his mother. As he approached her study, he noticed the door was wide open, a sliver of light spilling into the dim hallway. Peeking inside, he found the room empty and decided to head upstairs to their bedroom. There, he saw his mother changing out of her formal attire, slipping into a more comfortable dress for the day. Her hair, grown long over the years until it reached her waist, was let down and slightly tousled. As she glanced up, surprise shone across her face upon meeting his gaze. ¡°I¡¯m sleepy,¡± he admitted, stifling a yawn. His mother finished changing and smiled at him. ¡°You¡¯ve had a long day, haven¡¯t you?¡± Nodding, he stood patiently by the cradle. When she was ready, she walked over and tucked him into bed. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t tell your father about what happened at the market, okay?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother asked. Valrion¡¯s heart skipped a beat. How did Sergius already tell her about him using his fire? ¡°About that thief girl. All right? Your father will worry too much,¡± his mother continued, much to Valrion¡¯s relief¡ªand also his confusion. So, it wasn¡¯t about his fire, right? ¡°Okay, Mama,¡± Valrion replied, his voice small but obedient. His mother leaned down and kissed his forehead before he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. When he awoke, the sun hung high in the sky, piercing his eyes when he opened them. He stood up in the cradle, gripping the edge as he looked down. For a brief, impulsive moment, he considered jumping off, but the idea quickly passed. He knew that would just hurt his legs. Instead, he waited patiently until his mother came to check on him. ¡°Did you wake up, Valrion?¡± His mother appeared about five minutes later. ¡°Yes,¡± he cooed. Nearly two hours had passed since then. His eyes searched her face for any sign of anger or disappointment, but to his relief, there was none¡ªSergius might not have said anything yet. His mother brought him downstairs, and they went to the kitchen to eat together as usual. In this house, the menus rarely changed: more bread for breakfast, fruits for lunch, and meat for dinner. Today¡¯s lunch was no exception, but Valrion didn¡¯t mind the monotony. Even in Heaven, he had spent centuries drinking from the same river.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. After lunch, Valrion joined Octavia and Fina in tidying up the house. They swept the floors and arranged the sacks in the kitchen. As they moved through the familiar spaces, they shared stories about Fina¡¯s amusing mishaps, like the morning she swapped salt for sugar in her barley porridge and had to throw away the entire batch. Their laughter created a comforting atmosphere that distracted Valrion from his worries. When he had the chance, he also took a moment to practice at the hearth in the kitchen, focusing his energy until his mana dropped to nearly zero. The steady bursts of fire demanded precision and focus, and each successful attempt brought a small sense of satisfaction, though it did little to distract him from the impending scolding he should receive soon. As evening approached, Valrion once again joined the maids in the kitchen to prepare dinner. The recipe for rabbit stew was simple, but today¡¯s version would be different¡ªFina had insisted on adding plenty of cabbage to use up the surplus from storage. The table in the middle overflowed with the pale green vegetables, showing Fina¡¯s occasional habit of forgetting about items she had stored away. ¡°Could you and Octavia wash all those cabbages for me?¡± Fina asked, her hands busy caramelizing onions in the pot above the hearth. ¡°Of course,¡± Valrion agreed, following Octavia who carried two wooden basins to the well. One basin was filled with two large cabbage heads, while the other was empty. At the well, they worked together to peel off each leaf carefully, rinsing them in the cool water and discarding any that were blackened or spoiled. The repetitiveness of their task was soothing, and they exchanged lighthearted remarks about how it was good that everyone in the house would eat basically anything. Once the cabbages were washed and neatly stacked, they dried them off and each carried a basin back to the kitchen. They placed the basins on the table, and Octavia began shredding the cabbages with the knife she had set aside earlier. Valrion watched quietly from the side, thinking that one day, he should be trusted to handle those sharp objects himself. In about an hour, the stew finished cooking, its rich aroma spreading through the kitchen. Octavia went to call Valrion¡¯s parents from their bedroom, while Valrion waited in the dining room with Fina, who had served everyone a bowl. Before long, everyone gathered around the table. Valrion¡¯s gaze drifted to Sergius, who strolled in with an air of nonchalance, acting as though nothing unusual had happened earlier. The calmness made Valrion¡¯s heart pound with confusion. ¡°This is cabbage stew with rabbit, not rabbit stew with cabbage,¡± Sergius remarked after taking his first bite. ¡°What¡¯s the secret ingredient, Fina?¡± ¡°Cabbage, lots of it,¡± Fina replied, understanding Sergius¡¯ joke. ¡°Just what I always wanted¡ªmore cabbage,¡± Sergius said with a grin, eliciting laughter from everyone around the table. Everyone, except Valrion¡¯s father, who only managed a quiet chuckle. Would that man ever laugh aloud like the others? They ate together, sharing stories and enjoying the meal. The atmosphere was relaxed and jovial, but Valrion couldn¡¯t shake the uneasiness crawling into his mind. Why was everyone, especially Sergius, acting as if everything was fine? After dinner, the workers cleared the table, and Valrion went to his room with his parents. His father asked about his day at the market, and Valrion told him it had been fun. As he lay between them in their bed, they spent the night listening to his mother recount the day¡ªfrom their arrival, meeting her friend who sold fabrics, to buying candies. She skipped over the part where he had asked for bread for the misfortune entirely. Nearing ten, they washed up and went to bed. Even as Valrion settled beneath his blanket in his cradle for a good night¡¯s sleep, his parents didn¡¯t mention his use of elemental power. Either his mother had chosen not to bring it up, or Sergius had said nothing. Valrion leaned toward the latter¡ªotherwise, his mother would have pulled him aside for a private lecture. The next day unfolded predictably for Valrion. He woke up, got cleaned up, changed into new clothes, and had breakfast with everyone, including Sergius, who remained his usual talkative self. Afterward, they headed to their regular bow practice, where Sergius provided guidance and encouragement whenever needed, his voice firm and his instructions clear. Was Sergius just bluffing? The question nagged at Valrion¡¯s mind, troubling him as he fired arrow after arrow. He hesitated to confront Sergius, unsure if he wanted to hear the truth or risk reminding him of his mistake. The memory of Sergius¡¯ rare outburst during the chase haunted Valrion, and he wasn¡¯t sure he was ready to face it again. Perhaps Sergius had only meant to threaten him as a way of teaching a lesson? By the time practice ended, Valrion¡¯s arms burned from the effort, but his aim had improved. Sergius tapped him on the shoulder, his grin as wide as ever. ¡°Good work today, V. You¡¯re getting better.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Valrion replied, leaving his weapon for Sergius to handle and retreating toward the house. He would have usually spent more time talking to Sergius, but he was too confused to try. The rest of the day blurred into a series of chores and quiet moments. Valrion assisted Fina and Octavia with the housework, which always led to preparations for dinner. Much like the previous day, Fina asked Valrion and Octavia to clean two more heads of vegetables. This time, however, she transformed them into potato pies, served alongside roasted venison. ¡°More cabbages?¡± Sergius deadpanned. ¡°Today will be the last,¡± Fina assured him, and everyone laughed as they had the day before. Later that night, after both his parents had fallen asleep and the house settled into its usual quiet, Valrion climbed down from his cradle, which was surprisingly easy. He regretted not trying it sooner. Getting back up might have been difficult, but he could think about that later as he headed down the stairs, carefully gripping the banister for balance. Before long, he found himself standing outside Sergius'' room, just near the kitchen. The soft glow of a lantern spilled through the crack beneath the door, casting a faint light onto the hallway floor. If it were the colder seasons, the room would have been further illuminated by the glow of the fireplace inside. He hesitated, his hand hovering near the doorframe. Should he just let this go? Would confronting Sergius be the right choice? What if bringing it up only made things worse? The Son of Heaven will always find the answers he needs, he reminded himself. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. It took Sergius a few seconds to open the door. His eyes widened slightly, though they were heavy with sleep. ¡°How did you get down here?¡± Sergius asked with a gasp. ¡°Hi,¡± Valrion greeted. ¡°What¡ªoh my, you terrify me sometimes. Just come in.¡± Sergius opened the door wider, stepping aside to let Valrion enter. The room carried a faint scent of leather and wood, a comforting combination that reminded Valrion of the stable. After closing the door, Sergius sat on the edge of his bed, his posture relaxing as his expression shifted from drowsy to mildly curious. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Valrion¡¯s fingers curled into fists at his sides. The words then tumbled out before he could stop himself, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell my parents about what happened?¡± Sergius raised an eyebrow before chuckling. ¡°Did you come all the way here just to ask me this?¡± Valrion nodded. ¡°I did tell your mother,¡± Sergius revealed. Valrion frowned. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Sergius confirmed. ¡°I told her everything. She listened, and I think she decided not to make a scene. What mattered most was that you were safe.¡± Valrion felt the weight of Sergius¡¯ words as he considered them. It did sound like his mother to be that kind, but it was still a little hard to believe. ¡°I see,¡± Valrion said, despite not fully comprehending the situation. Sergius shrugged, his gaze drifting to the lantern on the bedside table. The flame flickered, casting shadows across his face. ¡°I think she trusts that you won¡¯t do it again.¡± Valrion opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He was unsure of what to say next. There was something else he felt he should bring up, but he couldn¡¯t find it. To make it worse, Sergius stared at him, clearly expecting a follow-up. ¡°O-Okay,¡± Valrion said. ¡°I¡¯ll go, then.¡± As he turned to leave and almost reached the exit, Sergius¡¯ voice stopped him. ¡°Valrion, wait.¡± Valrion halted, his hand resting on the doorframe. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Sit next to me,¡± Sergius ordered, motioning to the space beside him on the bed. His tone had changed slightly, a hint of something more serious threading through his words. ¡°Let me tell you something very important.¡± 31 - Somebody’s Brother 31 - Somebody¡¯s Brother Valrion climbed onto the bed and settled beside Sergius in the dimly lit room, the flicker of the lantern casting dancing shadows on the walls. He observed Sergius, noticing the older man¡¯s furrowed brow and the way he seemed to be carefully choosing his next words. What could be so important that Sergius felt the need to stop him from leaving? ¡°Octavia told me that you asked about evokers, summoners, and all that,¡± Sergius began, breaking the silence. ¡°Do you still remember what they are?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Valrion responded with a gasp. Unlike Sergius¡¯ stern demeanor, Valrion felt a surge of excitement. This had to be an opportunity to learn more about Eru¡ªa topic that seemed to reveal itself to him only through unexpected moments. Sergius leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. ¡°Good. Do you know what a cousin is?¡± Valrion furrowed his brow, surprised by the question. He had never heard anyone in the house mention that before, so he shook his head, pretending. ¡°What¡¯s a cousin?¡± Sergius smiled at Valrion¡¯s response, though a more profound emotion was hidden in his gaze. ¡°A cousin is someone whose parents are your parents¡¯ siblings. If your parents have brothers, they¡¯re your uncles, and if they have sisters, they¡¯re your aunts. Their children are your cousins. It¡¯s like having more brothers or sisters, but they¡¯re from different parents. They¡¯re from your parents¡¯ brothers or sisters.¡± Valrion nodded. That explanation was atrocious, nothing like Octavia and Fina¡¯s. If it had been any other kid, they likely would have ended up with headaches. More importantly, where was Sergius going with this? ¡°So they¡¯re family too,¡± Valrion said to satisfy Sergius. ¡°Exactly,¡± Sergius replied, offering a warm smile. ¡°They¡¯re family, just connected through a different branch.¡± Valrion blinked, wondering why Sergius felt the need to mention the ¡°brand,¡± but he still replied, ¡°Okay.¡± Sergius went on, ¡°Do you know that I¡¯m your father¡¯s cousin? That makes me your uncle. Well, technically, your second uncle, but let¡¯s not get caught up in the specifics.¡± What? Valrion¡¯s shoulders jerked upright. What was he hearing? [Personal Quest updated: A Right-Hand Man] [EXP +10] [A Right-Hand Man ? In a surprising twist, it is revealed that Sergius, a pivotal figure in your life, is actually your uncle. Is that the main reason he goes above and beyond for you?] Quickly, his mind raced as he recalled all the times he had noticed how Sergius and his father looked alike. They shared the same hair color and build, though Sergius had brown eyes and darker skin. Even the way Sergius addressed his parents by their first names¡ªdetails he had dismissed without much thought years ago came rushing back. His heart pounded harder with each passing second, his breath catching as the full weight of the realization struck him. ¡°Wait, what?¡± The words came out louder than he intended, disbelief evident on his face. ¡°You¡¯re my uncle?¡± Sergius laughed at Valrion¡¯s reaction, the sound lightening up the room. However, it soon faded, replaced by a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were pulled back into a memory too heavy to ignore. It wasn¡¯t because he was tired¡ªit was something far deeper, a sorrow that seemed to weigh on his very being. His shoulders tensed slightly before he exhaled, his eyes fixated on a point beyond the room. ¡°Your father had a younger brother, three years younger than him¡ªtwo years younger than me,¡± he began. ¡°We were inseparable when we were kids.¡± Valrion straightened his back, intrigued by the story unfolding before him. Sergius took another deep breath, his gaze drifting away as if he were lost in the golden days of the past. ¡°Well, your uncle turned out to be an evoker¡ªan earth wielder, which was quite rare. He was drafted into the army, and less than a year later, well, we didn¡¯t hear from him anymore.¡± Valrion¡¯s eyes widened, dread gripping him. ¡°What do you mean? What happened to him?¡± Sergius hesitated, his features tightening as he seemed struggling to phrase the words. After a few seconds, he finally said, ¡°He died on a mission.¡± Valrion fell quiet, his breath catching as the weight of those words. The room seemed to close in, and the air grew heavy. His chest tightened, and he found himself kneading the hem of his shirt as though grounding himself against the sudden wave of disbelief. His mind reeled, struggling to accept the reality of what he had just heard.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Once again, he understood why his father had been so strongly against the existence of his elemental power. Everything seemed to click even further: his uncle¡¯s death had to be one of the main reasons his father had joined the Liberators. The more Valrion learned about evokers and the Kingdom, the more he understood the deep-seated resentment and opposition some people harbored. This time, he didn¡¯t even care that the Handbook didn¡¯t do anything about any of the quests he had received. ¡°When someone dies,¡± Sergius said, gulping before continuing, ¡°they go to a faraway place and don¡¯t come back.¡± Valrion looked down, staring at his tiny fingers. ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡± He wasn¡¯t referring to his uncle¡¯s death. Valrion knew very well that death itself wasn¡¯t inherently good or bad for humans. His frustration stemmed from how the Kingdom treated elemental wielders¡ªas tools to be used and discarded. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t,¡± Sergius agreed, his voice softening. ¡°Life can be tough, and loss is part of it, but it¡¯s important to remember those we¡¯ve lost and hold onto the good memories.¡± It struck Valrion as ironic that Sergius would say such a thing to a god, but he still raised his head and offered a smile. ¡°What was his name?¡± ¡°Marius,¡± Sergius answered. It seemed like their side of the family followed a distinct pattern: Cassius, Sergius, and now Marius. ¡°Did you have many good memories with him?¡± Valrion proceeded. Sergius smiled faintly. ¡°Oh, many. Savio wasn¡¯t this developed years ago. We used to play in the fields near the market, climb trees, and explore the woods. He always had a sense of adventure, always getting us into trouble. I remember one time we tried to catch a wild rabbit. We ended up chasing it for hours and completely lost track of time.¡± Valrion¡¯s face brightened at the thought of such experiences. ¡°Did you catch it?¡± ¡°No.¡± Sergius chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°But we returned home late in the evening and got scolded by our parents. That¡¯s what I try to remember¡ªthe laughter and the fun we had. It helps to keep his spirit alive.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Valrion nodded. He didn¡¯t know how many times he had done this in the last fifteen minutes or so. Sergius heaved a sigh, his expression suddenly turning somber again. ¡°Valrion, listen carefully. This is why we don¡¯t want you using your fire power in public. We¡¯re deeply worried about what could happen if others find out. The consequences could be severe. That said, I know it¡¯s unlikely you¡¯ll be able to keep it hidden forever, especially given how unique and special you are.¡± Valrion stared at Sergius, his eyes fluttering slowly as he absorbed every word the man¡ªhis second uncle¡ªuttered. He could tell Sergius wasn¡¯t finished, so he waited. ¡°If I could see the future, I would envision you as someone who could lead the Liberators¡ªsomeone with the potential to change the world,¡± Sergius went on. ¡°Your mother, Fina, and Octavia all believe in your strength and your potential. That¡¯s part of the reason we got you that bow. It¡¯s not just about hunting but about preparing you for the path that lies ahead.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Valrion said. There was a pause before Sergius continued. ¡°A lot of us have lost people because they turned out to be elemental wielders, fighting for the army and dying on the battlefields. Friends and loved ones were taken from us over nothing. Well, you might not understand this right now, so I¡¯ll tell you again when you¡¯re older.¡± ¡°But I understand,¡± Valrion muttered. Sergius seemed taken aback by Valrion¡¯s sincerity but soon broke into laughter. ¡°How old is your soul?¡± Valrion smiled, always acting like he didn¡¯t get the question. ¡°My soul?¡± Sergius laughed even harder. ¡°Honestly, what a weird child! You seem wise beyond your years. It¡¯s as if your soul has lived many lives.¡± Valrion shrugged, a grin on his face. ¡°Maybe?¡± ¡°Well, I hope you don¡¯t make the same mistakes again as the one you made at the market.¡± Sergius extended his pinky finger. ¡°Promise?¡± Valrion glanced at Sergius¡¯ extended pinky, the gesture familiar from observing human traditions. He hesitated briefly before linking his finger with Sergius¡¯. ¡°Promise,¡± he said with a small smile. ¡°Off you go, then. I¡¯m feeling sleepy,¡± Sergius said, stifling an exaggerated yawn. Despite the dramatic delivery, Valrion knew it was late, and they both needed rest. ¡°All right. Thank you,¡± Valrion murmured as he slid off the bed and made his way toward the door. Sergius followed him, but before they both reached their destination, a thought crossed Valrion¡¯s mind, and he turned around. ¡°How does someone become an evoker?¡± he asked. ¡°Hmm?¡± Sergius glanced down. ¡°At thirteen, everyone is required to take a test to determine if they have elemental power. Those who pass go on to study at the academy in the capital city for at least three years, starting at fifteen.¡± ¡°A test?¡± Valrion asked, even though he already knew the answer. It had to be the Aptitude Test, but hearing another confirmation wouldn¡¯t hurt. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s called the Aptitude Test,¡± Sergius clarified. ¡°You have that power, Valrion, but don¡¯t think about becoming an evoker, okay? We¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t take the test.¡± ¡°Oh. All right. Good night,¡± Valrion said, reaching for the door, causing him to tiptoe. Sergius chuckled and opened it for him. ¡°I¡¯ll walk you back, silly,¡± Sergius scoffed. Of course, he had to, and it was even better since Valrion needed someone to help him get back into the cradle. Valrion sometimes forgot that he was too young to be alone. This was precisely what Sergius did: he accompanied Valrion to the bedroom on the second floor and placed him in the cradle. They didn¡¯t speak a word since the moment they left the guard¡¯s room, even until he made his way out and closed the door behind him. Staring at the ceiling, Valrion reflected on everything he had learned about the new world. Wasn¡¯t it funny that he hadn¡¯t gotten anything at the market, yet the trip still led him to his conversation with Sergius? It was like that old saying: if one thing didn¡¯t happen, then the rest wouldn¡¯t. His mind buzzed with possibilities and aspirations, all landing on one thought: if life didn¡¯t throw him any curveballs, he would like to become an evoker, then a summoner, and eventually any position necessary to gain the power to collect all Twelve Eidolons. That way, he could achieve his goals more efficiently. Moreover, if he truly wanted to dismantle the system, wouldn¡¯t it be more effective to work from within rather than trying to change it from the outside? Instead of joining the Liberators, becoming an active part of the Kingdom seemed like a more strategic path. The Liberators might have tried it before, but as everyone said, he was different. This time, things should work because he was the Son of Heaven. 32 - Here’s to Growing up 32 - Here¡¯s to Growing up Valrion returned to the market a week later with Octavia, who held a list of groceries for the coming days. As usual, the place buzzed with energy. His eyes lit up as he took in the sights, watching Octavia deftly negotiate with vendors over fresh fish, crisp vegetables, and aromatic spices. Each transaction seemed to bring her satisfaction¡ªshe often giggled while handing over coins, and Valrion happily carried some of her purchases. He had expected to see Amelia and her group while he was in the market, but he still flinched when he found them in the same spot as before¡ªnear the candy seller. They were clumped together as usual, their faces always weary from the day¡¯s challenges. When their eyes met, Valrion smiled, but both he and Amelia quickly looked away, almost in unison. Should he offer them some food? The memory of their last encounter left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he was certain it felt the same for her. ¡°Uh, Octavia, should we buy them food?¡± Valrion hesitated but eventually gave in, waiting until Octavia finished selecting a small jar of spices from a nearby stall. He gestured subtly toward Amelia and her friends with his free hand. Octavia followed his gaze, her lips twitched as she witnessed the scene. She let out a sigh and shook her head. ¡°No, Valrion. Your mother already told me that you would ask for that.¡± ¡°I see,¡± he replied. He felt somewhat disappointed, but he also understood. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we can¡¯t let them get used to this,¡± she continued. ¡°They can¡¯t always rely on us. Your mother told me what happened last time, and that wasn¡¯t good.¡± Valrion nodded, accepting her perspective. It was a complex situation¡ªhumans often were. The lines between compassion and practicality blurred, leaving him conflicted about the best course of action. The idea that helping could inadvertently foster dependency made sense, so he quietly followed Octavia deeper into the market¡ªan area he hadn¡¯t explored before. There was nothing particularly new around except that the stalls extended further, with at least twenty more lining the road. Octavia stopped by a weaver¡¯s booth, where she carefully selected two spools of black thread. The clacking of a loom nearby added a quiet backdrop to their brief stop. ¡°Why isn¡¯t the Kingdom helping them?¡± he asked after Octavia finished paying. He already suspected the answer would be similar to before, but he was curious about what she might say. ¡°The Kingdom spends most of its money on war,¡± Octavia replied, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. ¡°Even then, it¡¯s hard to help those who won¡¯t work. Most of them are sick as well.¡± Valrion¡¯s heart sank at her words. It painted a grim image¡ªa cycle of suffering with no easy escape. He pondered how, someday, someone needed to set aside their ego to truly help those who were struggling, risking everything in the hopes that those people could change for the better. Would he be able to take on that responsibility when he became a high-ranked member of society? Only time would reveal the answer, but mortals truly were amusing. From that day forward, Octavia made it a point to take Valrion to the market at least four times a month. Plenty of stalls always overflowed with fresh, seasonal fruits: vibrant strawberries heralded spring, juicy peaches signaled the height of summer, and plump grapes marked the transition into autumn. The aromas of baked goods cooling on wooden stands, spreading spices, and the rich, buttery smell of pastries had become familiar. As they wandered through the bustling crowd, Valrion observed the interactions around him, hoping to overhear something new or intriguing¡ªperhaps even something that Eru, Octavia¡¯s teacher, hadn¡¯t mentioned. Yet, there was nothing of the sort. The surroundings buzzed only with the calls of vendors enticing potential customers, the sounds of bartering and haggling, and the lively chatter of people immersed in their exchanges. Valrion couldn¡¯t shake the haunting images of those who lingered at the edges of the bustling market¡ªthe ones invisible to the crowd. Amelia and her group remained stuck on his mind, and more than once, he had to fight the urge to take coins from Octavia¡¯s pouch and slip them discreetly toward those people. Things seemed to have worsened during his subsequent visits, as he often spotted Amelia rummaging through garbage. She would smile each time she found something shiny, rubbing it against her coat as if it were a precious gem. Other times, he saw her pulling out a half-eaten apple and biting into it without any concern that it might be spoiled. As time slipped by, winter shrouded the land, changing it into a serene, white-covered wonderland. By the time Valrion turned four, snow blanketed the streets, including the market, which remained lively despite the cold. Unlike the rest of the townsfolk, the street dwellers had vanished, leaving no trace behind.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°Where did they go?¡± Valrion asked Octavia, squeezing his gloved hands as his breath puffed out in frosty clouds. ¡°They usually hide away during winter,¡± she replied. ¡°Really? Where?¡± he went on. ¡°Some buildings or something,¡± she explained. Her tone suggested she was offering a vague answer to end the conversation. Moving to a warmer place might have been true, but would they be safe? As the season changed, spring arrived. Flowers burst forth from the thawing ground, days grew longer, and the warmth of the new year began to spread across Eru once more. Despite the promise of new beginnings, the street dwellers never returned. Their absence lingered like a shadow, and everyone went about their lives, seemingly indifferent to the mystery of their disappearance. *** Valrion¡¯s father rarely took days off from work, so every weekday, Valrion dedicated his afternoons to practicing archery with Sergius. The bright daylight illuminated the side yard, highlighting the grass beneath their feet as they stood side by side, a bow in Valrion¡¯s hand. Rain was the only thing that had forced them to postpone the training. ¡°Focus, Valrion,¡± Sergius instructed, his voice always calm and steady during these hours, cutting through the rustle of leaves around them. Valrion nodded, inhaling deeply as he fixed his gaze on the target¡ªstill the simple straw bag, its surface marred by the punctures of countless arrows. ¡°Can I add fire?¡± Valrion asked after landing a shot that nearly hit the center. Sergius raised an eyebrow, amusement crossing his face. ¡°Again with the fire? Seriously, what are you planning to do? Burn the target that I¡¯ve carefully prepared for you?¡± Valrion paused, realizing how foolish he sounded. The thought had been spontaneous, and yet it was true¡ªa burning target would be useless. Had living among mortals dulled his reasoning? Heat rose to his face as he inwardly berated himself for not thinking it through. ¡°We bought that bow for you to use when it¡¯s necessary,¡± Sergius continued, his tone softening. ¡°Save your fire for when you need it most. In real situations.¡± ¡°Like killing monsters?¡± Valrion seized the opportunity to steer the conversation toward something more exciting¡ªanother thing that he had long desired. ¡°Probably,¡± Sergius replied with a laugh. ¡°But let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves. First, master the basics.¡± Valrion straightened his stance, drawing back the string of his bow. The tension built in his arms, mingling with his focus. Every time he concentrated, the world around him seemed to fade. The calming gust of wind, the chirping of distant birds¡ªall dissolved into silence. His breathing steadied, and his vision sharpened, centering solely on the target. Then, he released the arrow. It soared through the air. A heartbeat later, it struck¡ªright in the middle of the target. The sound of impact snapped the world back into focus. The wind picked up again, the birds resumed their song, and Valrion felt the faintest flicker of pride in his chest. ¡°You¡¯ve done this quite often lately. Good job!¡± Sergius remarked, walking over to inspect the shot. I don¡¯t think I could shoot this well when I was your age. We should make the distance longer¡ª¡± ¡°When can I hunt with you?¡± Valrion interjected. Sergius immediately turned around to look at him, his expression unreadable for a moment. He studied the boy, his serious gaze meeting Valrion¡¯s determined eyes. It should clear this wasn¡¯t an idle question. Valrion had waited for far too long for this. He had been asking for far too many times. A small smile tugged at Sergius¡¯s lips. ¡°Okay. When you turn five.¡± Valrion¡¯s face lit up with resolve. ¡°I¡¯m five soon.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Sergius replied, his smile softening. ¡°Soon.¡± And soon, Valrion no longer slept in a cradle. Instead, he moved into the bed with his parents¡ªthis time for real, not just because his mother had forgotten to put him back in his own bed after a long day. The space was more than enough for the three of them, though his father would playfully grumble about being kicked during the night, while his mother simply laughed and smoothed Valrion¡¯s hair whenever he woke up. The cradle remained in its corner, untouched and unmoved, as though it were waiting for something. At first, Valrion wondered if they were hoping for another baby, but as the months passed, it began to act more like an artifact of a time that had gone by. Another winter came, bringing frostbitten mornings and long, dark nights. Inside, the fireplaces and hearth burned steadily throughout the day, its warmth warding off the never-ending chill. During one of the tranquil evenings, Valrion finally celebrated his fifth birthday. The house brimmed with laughter, as it often did, but a yearly celebration always brought a unique kind of joy. Everyone gathered in the dining room, their lively voices filling the brightly lit area. The rich aroma of freshly baked spice gingerbread cake mingled with the clinking of tankards. Valrion sat at the center of it all, his face glowing with excitement as he basked in the festive atmosphere. When the song ended and the cake was almost entirely eaten, Valrion¡¯s gaze wandered across the room. His eyes landed on Sergius, who stood in the kitchen, getting another serving of ale. Taking his chance, Valrion quietly slipped away from the others and approached Sergius, his heart pounding with anticipation. ¡°I¡¯m five now,¡± Valrion declared without waiting for the man to be done with the barrel. ¡°Can we go hunting tomorrow?¡± Sergius turned to him, a gentle smile forming as he met Valrion¡¯s gaze. The firelight danced across his face as he chuckled softly. ¡°It¡¯s winter. We should wait until spring.¡± Valrion frowned briefly, but he recognized the validity of the excuse. ¡°You aren¡¯t just playing with me, are you?¡± he asked. ¡°Wow, I didn¡¯t expect you to talk to me like that,¡± Sergius replied, but his tone was carefree, showing no sign of offense. ¡°We¡¯ll go hunting once the snow stops falling. Mark my words.¡± ¡°All right.¡± Valrion¡¯s face beamed with resolution, his earlier frustration fading as he nodded. The loud conversation from the dining room swirled around him and Sergius, but at this moment, all he could think about were the possibilities that lay ahead now that he was older. 33 - Whispers Among the Trees 33 - Whispers Among the Trees Valrion adjusted the straps of his well-fitted leather boots while sitting on the bottom rung of the staircase. His bow lay propped against the wall nearby, and his new quiver was filled with arrows, glinting in the morning light. His mother stood a few steps away, a warm smile spreading across her face as she held out his coat, the fabric rich and sturdy. ¡°Ready?¡± she asked when she noticed he was finished with his little task, her tone a little more excited than usual. ¡°Ready,¡± he replied as he rose to his feet and walked to her. Once she helped him into the coat, he grabbed his bow and slung the quiver over his shoulder. The familiar weight comforted him as he headed into the side yard with her. Sergius was already there, standing tall beside Centurion. The animal stamped its hooves lightly on the ground, as if eager to be on the move. A large sack was tied securely to the horse, ready to hold whatever game they would catch during the hunt. The atmosphere felt reminiscent of their first trip to the market, brimming with the delight of a new adventure. Back then, Sergius had only carried his sword. Now, he had added a bow to his arsenal¡ªa weapon Valrion had never seen before¡ªalongside a longer quiver, both strapped securely across his back. At first glance, it resembled Octavia¡¯s bow, but closer inspection revealed its darker wood and a more pronounced curve on its edges. ¡°Hey, are you really okay with this?¡± Sergius asked Valrion¡¯s mother, and Valrion wished he could kick Sergius¡¯ leg to stop him from speaking. Questions like that would only make his mother second-guess her decision to let them go. ¡°Yeah. I trust you both,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother replied. She must have grown accustomed to her son¡¯s antics since there wasn¡¯t even a flicker of worry in her eyes. ¡°All right,¡± Sergius said, a reassuring smile on his face as he spread a hand toward Valrion, beckoning him closer. Valrion understood the signal and walked over, allowing Sergius to lift him onto Centurion¡¯s back. The horse¡¯s warm, solid body felt secure beneath him, and he instinctively adjusted his quiver to ensure it wouldn¡¯t get in Sergius¡¯s way as he mounted behind him. ¡°Take care. Please return while it¡¯s still daylight,¡± Valrion¡¯s mother reminded. She sounded a little concerned, but there was more love than anything else. ¡°No worries,¡± Sergius replied, settling himself behind Valrion. He glanced at Valrion¡¯s mother and smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll go now, yes?¡± ¡°Take care,¡± she repeated, waving both of her hands at them. With a gentle nudge of his heels, Sergius urged Centurion forward. The horse stepped into a smooth gait, and the wind began to brush against Valrion¡¯s hair and cheeks. If the town center was to the right of their house, then the forest must have been to the left, as that was the direction they were heading. As they left the familiar sights behind, the landscape transformed. Houses grew fewer and farther apart, scattered sparsely, until the final traces of civilization vanished entirely. Valrion¡¯s gaze stayed on the horizon, wondering if they had crossed into another world altogether. The road ahead led them further into the embrace of the forest. The towering trees thickened, forming a natural canopy that muted the fading sounds of the town behind them. Sunlight danced through the leaves, shifting shadows across the ground in intricate patterns. Sergius kept a steady hand on the reins, guiding Centurion down the winding path. Valrion leaned forward, eyes studying the terrain as a mix of exhilaration and anticipation coursed through him. The air, crisp with the scent of trees and damp ground, invigorated his senses. This was where he had always dreamed of being¡ªfar from the constraints of home, immersed in untamed beauty. Just like how it was in Heaven. The journey stretched longer than Valrion had anticipated. Time seemed to stretch as they delved further into the wilderness, the forest gradually unveiling its secrets. He marveled at the vibrant wildflowers peeking through the underbrush, their bright hues striking against the muted earthy tones. Small creatures flitted in and out of view¡ªsquirrels leaping nimbly between branches, rabbits pausing to nibble on tender grass before darting away. He couldn¡¯t believe that this was his first time seeing all of this in the last five years. Handbook should have given him a reward for being patient. ¡°How beautiful,¡± Valrion murmured, watching a patch of upturned violet flowers swaying in the breeze. Their tiny petals stood out among the rest of the leaves. ¡°Glad you¡¯re happy,¡± Sergius said. Valrion chuckled, his heart swelling with wonder. The forest seemed alive, every sound and movement intertwining into a symphony of calm and vigor. For a moment, he longed to freeze this moment, to lose himself in exploring every corner the enchanting place. He didn¡¯t like the idea that he had to leave in a few hours. Eventually, they arrived at a clearing where Sergius reined in Centurion, bringing the horse to a halt. He swung himself off the saddle in one smooth motion and tied the reins to a sturdy tree, ensuring Centurion wouldn¡¯t wander. The horse released a sharp breath, and Sergius ran a steady hand along its back to soothe him. Valrion remained atop Centurion a while longer, his gaze sweeping over the landscape. The interplay of sound enveloped him¡ªleaves shifting with a quiet murmur, birds exchanging melodies between branches, and water gliding over stones with a soothing rhythm. It felt removed from the burdens of the world, a secluded haven existing in perfect stillness.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Hey, come on.¡± Sergius patted Valrion¡¯s side, snapping him out of his reverie. With a firm but gentle motion, he helped Valrion down. Once Valrion¡¯s boots touched the ground, Sergius untied the sack from Centurion and fastened it around his own waist. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Valrion asked. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh air surrounded him, but he was also eager to transition from the serenity of the forest to the thrill of the hunt that lay ahead. Sergius removed his bow from his back. ¡°Stay close to me, yes? First, we¡¯ll scout the area for tracks. Rabbits often stick to open spaces near thickets. Understanding their patterns and movements is key if we¡¯re to be successful today.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Valrion said with a smile, stepping deeper into the forest right after Sergius. With each stride, his anticipation grew, his heartbeat quickening to match their pace. The forest seemed to hum, as if responding to their presence, drawing them forward into the unknown. They moved in silence, the only noise being the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the sporadic flutter of birds. Sergius suddenly raised a hand, fingers splayed wide¡ªa clear command to halt. Valrion obeyed, his body tensing. ¡°There,¡± Sergius whispered, pointing ahead. Valrion followed the guard¡¯s gaze and spotted a rabbit darting across their path¡ªa fleeting blur of brown against the green underbrush. It moved with startling speed, almost disappearing into the foliage before pausing where it remained visible. Sergius moved swiftly but without haste, his motions fluid and deliberate. He nocked an arrow, the bowstring groaning as he drew it back. Valrion held his breath, his eyes locked on the rabbit. The world seemed to shrink, everything else fading into the background except Sergius, the bow, and their target. The arrow flew with a sharp hiss, cutting through the air, but the rabbit zigzagged at the last moment, vanishing into the dense thicket. A miss. Sergius lowered his bow and exhaled. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll find another. You¡¯ll see soon enough¡ªit¡¯s not always about the first shot.¡± Valrion snickered. Sergius sounded a bit embarrassed, and he found that quite endearing. They continued forward, weaving through the trees, their steps careful and measured. After some time, Sergius stopped again, gesturing silently toward a small clearing. There, nibbling on clover, was another rabbit. This one remained still, its ears twitching, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Sergius turned to Valrion, a smile playing on his lips. ¡°Want to try?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Valrion said softly. There was no way he would refuse it. ¡°Don¡¯t use your fire. You¡¯ll burn the entire forest,¡± Sergius warned. ¡°I know.¡± Valrion let out a giggle. He reached for an arrow, his fingers steadier than they had been years ago, and nocked it to the string. Drawing the bow back, he focused intently, shutting out all other objects and sounds, even Sergius¡¯s stare. His grip remained firm as he aimed, seconds stretching out before he finally released. The arrow streaked through the air, straight and fast, but the rabbit darted to the side at the last second. The shot missed, landing mere inches from where the rabbit had stood. It bolted into the underbrush, vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared. Valrion heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. He glanced at Sergius, unsure of how the man might react. ¡°That was excellent for your first try. Be proud of yourself,¡± Sergius said, his tone encouraging. ¡°Let¡¯s move on.¡± Valrion nodded, his earlier disappointment giving way to renewed determination. Each mistake became a lesson, honing his skill with every attempt. This wasn¡¯t just about landing a shot¡ªit was about growing and adapting. They resumed their search, venturing further into the forest. The air grew cooler, shaded by the thick canopy above. Valrion sharpened his focus, his eyes looking for movements while his ears caught even the faintest rustle. Nevertheless, Sergius was the one leading the way. Valrion trailed behind him closely, another arrow nocked in hand, ready for the next opportunity. Valrion halted as a flicker of movement near a cluster of ferns caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted it¡ªa deep brown rabbit, larger than the ones they had seen earlier. Its fur blended almost seamlessly with the forest floor as it nibbled on fallen leaves. ¡°Sergius,¡± Valrion called, his voice barely audible. ¡°There¡¯s one there. Watch me.¡± Sergius stopped and turned, his expression curious as his eyes darted around. It was obvious that he hadn¡¯t pinpointed the rabbit¡¯s location, but he nodded, granting Valrion permission to proceed. This time, Valrion didn¡¯t overthink. He let instinct take over, his focus was solely on the rabbit. The bowstring stretched taut as he drew it back. Releasing the arrow, the string snapped forward, sending it cutting cleanly through the air in a graceful arc. His heart surged as the arrow struck true. The rabbit fell, and a wave of pride swept through him. At last, he was capable of doing something quite worthwhile with this body. He turned to Sergius, who broke into a wide grin. ¡°Well done,¡± Sergius said, clapping Valrion¡¯s back lightly. ¡°That was a perfect shot.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Valrion beamed. This would surely convince Sergius to take him on more hunts. ¡°Let¡¯s retrieve it,¡± Sergius said, walking toward the rabbit as he removed the sack from his belt. Once finished, he held it in one hand, his bow in the other. Valrion realized how cumbersome hunting alone would be: setting down the sack each time to store the game, picking it up, walking around with lopsided weight, and dropping it again before every shot. It was definitely far more effort than he had imagined. ¡°Son of Heaven.¡± Out of nowhere, Valrion heard a male voice drifting through the air like a distant echo, youthful and resonant. Each syllable was clear, capturing his attention and sending a chill down his spine. He halted abruptly, glancing sharply over his shoulder, but no one was there. ¡°Sergius, did you hear that?¡± Valrion asked, his voice low but urgent. ¡°Heard what?¡± Sergius responded. Valrion stared at Sergius, noting that the older man had also stopped moving. ¡°A voice. A male voice. Like a young guy.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Sergius looked around nervously before turning back to Valrion with a frown. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Did you not hear it? It sounded like a young man speaking.¡± ¡°What? No! Don¡¯t scare me like that!¡± Sergius snapped, his unease evident. Valrion stayed quiet, his gaze drifting back to the wilderness as he searched for the source of the sound. The forest felt different now, imbued with an eeriness he couldn¡¯t ignore. Son of Heaven. He hadn¡¯t misheard. Someone had spoken those words, but who? A messenger from the heavens? A fallen god lurking nearby? ¡°L-Let¡¯s move on?¡± Sergius asked, his voice trembling with fright. If this had been any other situation, Valrion would have laughed. Who would have thought Sergius was afraid of ghosts? However, if it turned out to be a dark entity, then Valrion would have been the one terrified. He knew his limits, and one of his biggest fears down here had always been falling victim to such malevolence. ¡°Hey, V,¡± Sergius said. ¡°Please tell me you¡¯re fine.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± Valrion replied, though it was obviously a lie. 34 - The Call That Lingers 34 - The Call That Lingers Valrion and Sergius tread carefully through the deepening woods, their cautious movements weaving through the dense underbrush and protruding roots. Valrion¡¯s breath remained uneven, the enigmatic voice from earlier ringing relentlessly in his mind. Had it been anything other than ¡°Son of Heaven¡± he might have dismissed it as daylight hallucination, but the voice had undeniably called out to him. Every so often, Valrion cast a glance over his shoulder, searching the shadows among the trees for any sign of motion. He didn¡¯t spot anything unusual¡ªno figures lurking, no disturbances beyond the sway of branches, and the occasional murmur of leaves stirred by the breeze. The tranquil stillness only deepened the strangeness of the words that lingered in his thoughts, making its presence felt even more incongruous. Ahead, Sergius walked steadily, his eyes shifting over the terrain with careful attention. Breaking the quiet, he began, ¡°What exactly did you hear back there?¡± Valrion glanced up. Several minutes had passed since the incident, the silence between them thick with unspoken questions and confusion. It was clear Sergius had been wrestling with his fear, hesitant to voice them until now. ¡°Just someone calling my name,¡± Valrion admitted after a pause. ¡°Maybe it was me?¡± Sergius guessed. ¡°Did you call me?¡± ¡°I did not.¡± Valrion heaved a sigh. He appreciated Sergius for wanting to lighten the mood, but he proceeded, ¡°So, it was more like a title.¡± ¡°A title?¡± Sergius asked. ¡°What kind of title?¡± Valrion fell silent, grappling with how to convey the truth. ¡°Like Cassius Martelli¡¯s son?¡± Sergius continued, his tone holding a playful edge. Valrion chuckled, the tension easing ever so slightly. ¡°Not exactly that.¡± To Valrion¡¯s relief, Sergius halted before the conversation could go further. He raised a hand, signaling for Valrion to stop. ¡°Another rabbit,¡± he announced quietly. Valrion straightened, clearing his wandering thoughts. He tightened his grip on the bow, its familiar weight offering reassurance. The rabbit Sergius had pointed out dashed through the ferns in a quick blur of white, heading northwest. Valrion nocked the arrow he had been holding since the previous kill, drew the string, and released it. The arrow flew straight, striking its target with precision. The rabbit dropped instantly, and Valrion heaved a long sigh, lowering his bow afterward. ¡°Nice shot,¡± Sergius said as he approached the animal. He crouched, inspected the arrow briefly, and then removed it before placing the rabbit into the sack. ¡°This one¡¯s a good size. One more, and we¡¯ll call it a day.¡± Valrion smiled. Though the voice still nagged at him, he had to admit that the hunt was progressing far better than he had expected, almost as if the forest itself had chosen to favor him. He forced himself to push the thought aside as Sergius handed back his arrow, and together, they went further into the woods. Moments later, Sergius stopped abruptly and pointed toward a spot where a rabbit stood alone, its ears twitching at the slightest noise. Valrion acknowledged the signal with a slight nod, his movements measured as he readied his shot. The arrow flew true, hitting its mark cleanly, and the rabbit collapsed to the ground. ¡°Good job,¡± Sergius remarked as he stepped forward to retrieve the final rabbit. Removing Valrion¡¯s arrow, he placed the animal in the sack and stood up. ¡°You¡¯re improving,¡± he added with a sidelong glance at Valrion. Valrion lowered his bow, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°But I did all the work.¡± Sergius chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m the one carrying this sack. Unless you also plan to gut the rabbits later, I would say that I have it harder.¡± Valrion couldn¡¯t help but grin, the lighthearted banter dispelling the worry that had hung in the air moments before. At least, that was how it felt for him. ¡°I would usually take a moment to scout around¡ªmaybe find some wild mushrooms,¡± Sergius said. ¡°But something feels off today. Is it okay if we head back now?¡± Valrion opened his mouth, intending to suggest they stay a little longer in hopes of hearing the mysterious call again, but Sergius had already started toward the forest¡¯s entrance. With a resigned sigh, Valrion followed after him. As they walked, the muted rustle of leaves gave way to a reflective quiet. Sergius strode with purpose while Valrion trailed slightly behind, his thoughts circling back to the unresolved mystery. The silence must have caused him to worry again, but he couldn¡¯t find the proper words to say without terrifying Sergius. It would be hilarious if this ended up being the reason Sergius didn¡¯t want to bring him to the forest again.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. When they reached Centurion, Sergius secured the sack of the three rabbits to the horse¡¯s side. ¡°You did really well for your first day,¡± he praised right after. Valrion managed a faint smile though his attention strayed once more to the wilderness behind them. Sergius tapped Valrion¡¯s shoulder, urging him to focus. He then assisted Valrion onto Centurion before mounting the horse himself. With everything secured, they set off along the well-trodden trail. Their return was peaceful¡ªCenturion¡¯s movements mingled with the occasional crackle of twigs and dried leaves underfoot. The sunlight streamed between the branches, illuminating the uneven ground and casting patterns on the path as they retraced their steps back to the town. By the time they reached their house, the sun had climbed higher, bathing the yard in bright morning light. Centurion came to a halt, making clouds of dust with his hooves before Sergius dismounted first. He turned and extended a hand to Valrion, who took it and climbed down carefully. Once his feet landed on the ground, Valrion glanced beyond the hedges encircling his house, looking toward the west as if the forest he had just left was still within reach. The voice should have faded with the distance, but instead, it remained here. He wanted to let it go, but he couldn¡¯t. Of course, he couldn¡¯t. Following Sergius, who had just finished securing Centurion, Valrion stepped into the house. The door creaked as Sergius adjusted the sack of rabbits on his shoulder. Valrion¡¯s mother, midway up the stairs to the second floor, stopped when she saw them and descended. ¡°How was your day?¡± she asked warmly, running down the stairs. ¡°We caught three. Valrion got them all. He¡¯ll be a great hunter, not a blacksmith,¡± Sergius said, smirking as he walked past them. ¡°Is that so?¡± Valrion¡¯s mother said, smiling first at Sergius, then at Valrion. ¡°Good job. Do you want to become a hunter when you grow up?¡± ¡°Thank you. Maybe,¡± Valrion muttered, sitting down on the ground to remove his boots. Without saying anything further, he made his way upstairs to his room. Once inside, he removed his coat, placing it at the foot of the mattress. He then dropped onto the bed and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day throughout his body. Rest was what he needed most. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Valrion opened his eyes to see his mother standing in the doorway, her silhouette outlined by the soft natural light. As she walked closer to him, a strange tightness gripped his chest¡ªan urge to hug her and hide under her embrace, though he held himself back. She sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight, and her warm smile sent comfort through him. This was expected. Naturally, she would be concerned when her son abruptly ran upstairs without saying much to her. Then, a long-standing question arose in his mind: would it harm him to share his secrets now? ¡°I heard something,¡± he said, the words spilling out before he could stop himself. ¡°Someone called me in that forest.¡± ¡°Called you how? Like your name?¡± she asked, her brow furrowing with concern. Considering Sergius had reacted in a similar way, Valrion realized he should phrase his revelation better next time. ¡°No. Something else,¡± Valrion corrected. The voice was so clear that recalling it was effortless. ¡°What is it?¡± she pressed gently, her eyes searching his for answers. ¡°Well¡ªI don¡¯t know,¡± he groaned, frustration creeping in. Should he say it? Should he reveal the truth about his identity? ¡°You can¡¯t tell me the specifics? Why not?¡± Her voice was tender, but Valrion could sense the urgency beneath it. ¡°Just¡ªI don¡¯t even know where to start,¡± he said, rolling over to face away from her. ¡°Are you scared?¡± she pressed. Yeah. Always. Ever since I came down here. The thought came unbidden. He clawed at the bed sheet near his stomach¡ªhe hadn¡¯t even realized he was doing it. He opened the Handbook, hoping for some unseen exclamation mark or another clue, but there was nothing. These mortal feelings were unbearable sometimes. He had never felt anything like it as a god. ¡°Yeah,¡± he eventually confessed. A heaviness squeezed his stomach, yet at the same time, his chest felt oddly lighter. How strange was that? ¡°Why?¡± his mother continued. Because I am weak now, and I would do anything to be stronger, were the words in his mind, but he didn¡¯t feel like uttering them. He didn¡¯t want to admit something like this. ¡°I¡¯m too young,¡± he said instead, his voice a quiet mumble. His mother laughed. ¡°What are you talking about? You¡¯re five, so of course you¡¯re young. Don¡¯t be silly, Valrion. What are you even worrying about? Moreover, you¡¯re not alone. You have us.¡± Valrion went still, letting her words sink in before responding, ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure exactly what¡¯s happening because you won¡¯t be entirely honest with me, but go back to the forest soon with Sergius. Try to figure out what that voice means,¡± his mother encouraged. ¡°Mama, don¡¯t you think I¡¯m weird?¡± he asked, uncertainty crawling back into his mind. It felt like a question he should have asked years ago, but only now could he bring himself to do it. ¡°Weird?¡± He rolled back to meet her gaze. ¡°I discovered my elemental power when I was a baby. Strange things have always found me. Don¡¯t you think I¡¯m weird? Aren¡¯t you scared of me? Sergius was terrified when I told him about that voice.¡± ¡°You are not weird,¡± his mother answered, rising from the bed. She straightened her back, her presence radiating strength. ¡°Just special. Like an old soul.¡± ¡°Octavia thinks I¡¯m reincarnated,¡± he stated, half-joking but wishing for a laugh. His mother chuckled, a melodic sound that filled the space. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Whoever you are, I¡¯ll always be by your side, my son. Go rest now. You¡¯ll be all right, I promise.¡± ¡°Thank you, Mama,¡± he said. She bent down to stroke his head before leaving the room, and Valrion closed his eyes once more. The worry remained, stuck in the corners of his mind, but gratitude took root within him, no matter how small it was in comparison. How beautiful was it that no matter where he was or who he had become, the soothing words of a caring mother always found a way to calm him? Whether it was a malicious fallen god or something else entirely, Valrion knew he had to place more trust in his family. He couldn¡¯t face the road ahead alone, and the thought of leaning on them gave him a newfound courage. Perhaps he should have known it long ago, but in some strange way, he owed this realization to that mysterious voice. He exhaled deeply, easing back against the pillow. With the reassuring belief, his mind drifted to the forest until sleep quickly overtook him.