《Cathedral Of Narratives》


 Imagination meets Reality

    "Are you...?" a voice murmurs, slow and deliberate. It sounds like a man.


    "You should be ready. Milah will soon lead the dead, and you¡ªwell, you need to be prepared. Wake, eat, sleep¡ªrepeat. Because you''re going to be the first-ever¡ªand I mean ever¡ªDivine Interpreter."


    He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle like dust in a forgotten room.


    "It''s an excruciating process, I must say. Starting from... dirth, that era... earth then to that city..." His voice grows almost wistful, a strange warmth bleeding through his otherwise sharp cadence. "It holds the most fascinating tales. I''m no Tour Guide, not even close, but the mere act of walking in such an environment¡ª" His voice trembles, catching on the word as if reliving some fleeting ecstasy. "It''s excruciating bliss, if I do say so myself."


    Another pause, shorter this time, as though shaking off a memory.


    "Anyway... make sure to ask a multitude of questions, alright? Right? Za¡ª"


    The voice cuts off abruptly, leaving me with the ghost of his last syllable hanging in the air.


    The Museum of Narratives stood as a monument to the world''s greatest stories, its towering structure seeming to extend infinitely.


    The exterior walls, made of gleaming white marble and intricate glass panels, shimmered in the light. The grand entrance featured doors inscribed with scenes from famous stories, legends, and myths.


    Inside, the museum was a labyrinth of exhibits, each dedicated to a different narrative. The floor, made of crystalline tiles, sparkled and shifted to match the imaginations of its visitors, leading them through halls where reality seamlessly merged with fantasy.


    Pillars soared to unfathomable heights, adorned with carvings of dragons, heroes, and mythical creatures, creating an atmosphere where the extraordinary felt ordinary.


    A tour guide resembling a tall, middle-aged man dressed in elegant scholar-like robes led a group of "tourists" through the main hall. His voice echoed through the cavernous space, carrying the weight of countless stories.


    "...And that''s how General Tollhdem won the War of Generations, a conflict that changed the future of his country. His strategic brilliance and unwavering determination turned the tide in a war that seemed unwinnable," the guide explained, gesturing to a life-sized statue of General Tollhdem. The statue depicted a tall, mighty man in mid-battle, his face a mask of fierce determination and burning fury.


    The tourists, wide-eyed and eager, hung on the guide''s every word. They marveled at the exhibits, where holographic images and interactive displays brought ancient stories to life. As they moved away from Tollhdem''s exhibit, the crystalline floor beneath them shifted and changed, morphing into different shapes and colors that represented the essence of the stories they passed.


    "Reality meets imagination here," the tour guide continued. "Some would say it is a mere dream. In this museum, stories are not just told; they are experienced. Each exhibit is a deal made between life and ''Narrative,'' a testament to the power of storytelling."


    One of the tourists, a young man with a mop of blonde hair, raised his fist enthusiastically, mimicking a scene he had just witnessed. "Tollhdem is so cool! A 10/10!" he exclaimed, turning excitedly to the guide. "Is there any story similar to his?" His eyes shone with passion, a spark common among those who walked these halls.


    The tour guide paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. A question mark appeared above his head, an animated indicator of his contemplation, only to change to a lightbulb, signifying the spark of an idea.


    "A story made on Earth, six hundred years after Tollhdem''s eventual demise. It is set in a country ''that was once his foe, though not remembered.''"


    Another tourist raised their hand. "Aren''t we going to the era of human space conquest?" they asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.


    "Wait, what about the Concurrency Era?" another chimed in.


    "Ahem," the guide cleared his throat, a gentle yet firm reminder of their current focus. "I must remind you, it is only your first day," he said, turning to a podium. Sliding his gloved finger over its surface, he paused, signaling that something significant was about to happen. "Well then, it''s decided. Leonardo it is."


    With that declaration, the scene began to shift. The previous characters and the museum itself seemed to dissolve, replaced by a new world where the sky stretched infinitely, dotted with clouds, and mountains loomed in the distance.


    The tourists found themselves immersed in the medieval world of Earth, where extraordinary tales awaited their discovery.


    The Empire of Moerlan, roughly twice the size of Texas, comprised fifteen towns, excluding the sky towns. Leonardo resided in this empire, specifically in Volnia, a trading town located far east of Moerlan''s capital, Kenlia.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Volnia''s architecture resembled a gothic aesthetic, yet with the sun shining on the horizon, it appeared as if it were the safest place on Earth. The streets teemed with people of various sizes and races, most notably humans, Orcs, and Dwarves. Volnia, a trading hub, dealt primarily in the trade of agnite, a rare and valuable material found only in its deep cave systems. Renowned for its mysterious energy, often referred to as "radiation," agnite was highly sought after for crafting powerful weapons and tools.


    Despite Volnia''s vibrant ambiance, earning a livelihood was a Herculean task.


    The mine was a labyrinth of dark tunnels, lit only by the faint glow of firestones embedded in the walls and the headlamps on the miners'' helmets. The air was thick with dust, and the sound of pickaxes striking rock echoed through the cavernous space.


    Leonardo and Ronald worked side by side, their hands calloused and worn from years of labor.


    "That''s two! Three more to go, Leonardo! Leon?" Ronald called out, his voice muffled by the dust mask covering his face.


    "Wait¡­ deep breaths. I haven''t even found one yet," Leonardo replied, frustration seeping into his tone. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his deep brown hair sticking to his forehead. "I just can''t seem to¡­" Clank. "Wait¡­ what is that?"


    Leonardo''s pickaxe struck something solid, yet not ordinary rock. He crouched down, brushing away the dirt to reveal a glowing blue stone.


    [1 agnite acquired]


    "No way! You found an agnite? This is awesome! Now we can totally buy that weapon we''ve been talking about!" Ronald shouted excitedly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.


    Leonardo turned the agnite over in his hands, its cool surface pulsing with an eerie white light. "You really think Rald will take this? It looks kinda weird," he asked, doubt creeping into his voice.


    "Trust me, he will!" Ronald replied confidently. "I''ve got some info on him."


    "What info?" Leonardo inquired, his curiosity piqued.


    "I''ll tell you later," Ronald said, glancing around as other miners approached.


    "Oi, boys, move out the way," a gruff voice called out.


    A burly miner carrying a huge metal rod pushed past them, another miner following closely behind, supporting the rod. "What is that for? Cedric?" Ronald asked, eyeing the rod with a mix of curiosity and greed.


    The cave, previously shrouded in darkness, began to glow as firestones on the ceiling ignited. The sudden light drew groans of dismay from the surrounding miners, who shielded their eyes from the brightness.


    "Ah, not the firestones," one miner''s voice rose above the others, frustration evident. "We need new lighting materials for the walls of this damned tunnel."


    With the firestones illuminating the space, Leonardo''s figure became visible. His tunic was a deep, earthy brown mixed with forest green, matching his brown skin and helping him blend into the environment. It was reinforced with leather patches at the elbows and shoulders to withstand wear and tear. Over the tunic, he donned a sturdy leather vest with multiple pockets. His gloves were padded but flexible, cut at the tips for precision.


    Ronald was similarly dressed but wore an additional "miner''s carryall."


    A bell rang, echoing through the tunnels.


    "THE OVERSEER IS HERE," a voice bellowed, followed by the sounds of miners dropping their tools and scrambling into line.


    Ronald, his face grim beneath the grime of the day''s work, shot Leonardo a worried glance before turning to join the line of miners greeting the overseer. Leonardo stood still, his hands gripping the handle of his pickaxe so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes, hidden behind the visor of his helmet, burned with a mixture of resentment and fear.


    The overseer, a morbidly obese figure with a sneer permanently etched, approached Leonardo with a measured stride. His entourage of mokri followed closely behind, their dark fur glinting in the dim light of the firestones.


    A mokri was one of the creatures from the southern sea or the western borders of Moerlan''s port.


    "Greet the overseer!", the voice demanded.


    "Hail the overseer!" The miners chanted, their voices a mix of fear and bitterness. They dropped their tools, their resentful faces hidden behind their masks.


    Leonardo''s eyes burned with rage, his facial muscles twitching beneath his mask. His hatred for the overseer was palpable.


    He hated the overseers with a burning passion. He hated how they sat on their high horses, and expected everyone to follow their rules obediently.


    "Ye over there, wherefore stand ye?" the overseer asked, his confusion turning to fury as he spotted Leonardo standing still.


    "What?" Leonardo replied, his voice edged with defiance.


    "Thou work now," the overseer commanded, his anger rising.


    "C''mon, just mine, Leonardo," Ronald whispered urgently, fear lacing his words.


    Leonardo finally moved, picking up his pickaxe.


    "Good, for thou art a thrall," the overseer huffed, turning to the mokri. "Guide me unto the task."


    "Yes, master," the mokri responded, leading the fat man deeper into the cave.


    As the firestones dimmed with their departure, darkness reclaimed the space, and the miners resumed their work. The cave''s constant rumbling became more pronounced.


    "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! We could''ve gotten killed. I don''t want to die yet!" a man screamed, his voice trembling.


    "I''m scared... I don''t want to be scared," Leonardo muttered to himself, shaking. His eyes fixated on his hands, trying to understand the fear gripping him.


    He glanced at Ronald, who had shut down all thoughts and emotions, focusing solely on his work.


    The cave rumbled again. This was the second time today. The overseer had warned them to leave after the third rumble each day, a sign of impending collapse. Paranoia gripped the miners; some were already planning to leave.


    "Let''s go, Ronald," Leonardo urged, urgency in his voice.


    "Wait, if we could just find one more¡­" Ronald retorted, frustration and desperation evident in his voice.


    The cave followed a straight path with multiple false endings. Using lanterns to guide the way, they hurried through the tunnels.


    "If we just waited a little longer, we might have found more agnite!" Ronald lamented, kicking at the dirt.


    "We need to get out. The cave''s not safe." Leonardo responded curtly, his mind focused on getting out safely.


    The cave rumbled again, dislodging rocks from the ceiling.


    "Watch out," Leonardo warned, pulling Ronald to safety.


    "Yeah, thanks," Ronald replied, worry replacing his earlier frustration. "Maybe we should get out of here."


    The cave had rest stops along the way, areas called resting pits due to their depth and length. Reaching one, they took a moment to catch their breath before continuing.


    Finally, they reached the cave entrance.


    The sun was setting, casting long shadows over Volnia. The gothic-inspired buildings, once intimidating, now seemed to blend harmoniously with the encroaching darkness.

 Uninvited Guest

    The moon hung like a blade, casting jagged shadows across Volnia''s gothic houses as darkness consumed the landscape.


    Leonardo''s hand instinctively brushed against the small knife hidden in his boot, a habit from years of navigating the treacherous cave systems. The race with Ronald wasn''t just a game; it was survival disguised as brotherly competition.


    "First one down gets two meals," Ronald declared,


    The spiraling cave entrance loomed before them,


    Leonardo gazed at the moon, its luminescence casting an ethereal glow."I want my name to shine on the moon, though I can''t explain why¡ªor even how to make it happen." he said, his voice low and intense¡ªpart dream, part desperate declaration.


    Ronald''s laugh was sharp. "Not that quote again." He kicked some pebbles, each impact echoing like a warning.


    But Leonardo''s eyes were fixed on the horizon, on something beyond the immediate. "No, I don''t mean literally. I want to be remembered when someone mentions the moon. a fleeting image.."


    The second, smaller moon hung motionless¡ªan unblinking eye witnessing their descent.


    They raced, dust churning around their feet, night creatures emerging from shadowy recesses.


    "I made it!" Ronald slammed the inn''s door, triumph and something darker gleaming in his eyes.


    Leonardo followed, close behind but not close enough. "Wait, you didn''t tell me in time," he protested, his face a mixture of frustration and something deeper¡ªa sense that this moment meant more than a simple race.


    Rald appeared behind the counter, his movements mechanical, eyes holding secrets. "What''ll it be, sir?"


    "It''s me, Rald."


    "Oh, ''nard," Rald responded, returning to his night drink¡ªa ritual that seemed to hold more significance than mere refreshment.


    The night festival was about to begin, and Volnia was transforming. The lizard-folk and orcs prepared their stalls, their movements precise, almost military. Something was brewing beneath the celebration''s surface.


    Leonardo stepped outside, gazing at the stars. His perspective was changing, a restlessness growing within him. The nightly creatures¡ªgrotesque tall figures with wings¡ªwatched from the moonlight, massive and unnervingly still.


    For some reason, they didn''t attack "people." Yet.


    "What if I just rule over it?" he mused, then laughed¡ªa sound caught between humor and something more desperate.


    The town pulsed with an energy that suggested tonight was not just another festival. It was a beginning.


    The town is lively tonight. "It''s the lizard-folk''s winter solstice," he thinks.


    Most people don''t even know about solstice, but the lizard people found a way to implement it into their history.


    His curiosity is piqued. He takes a whiff of the fresh night air and walks to the town''s outskirts, the second largest lake in Moerlan visible.


    The lake is so calm, the ships barely move¡ªjust a few, scattered across the water. "Maybe I could be a fisherman... or perhaps a guard.


    Guiding tourists could work too. I know Volnia''s cave system like the back of my hand, from Stoneveil to Echo Cavern, even Crimson Chasm.


    Though... maybe not Hollow. Those spikes make it nearly impossible to navigate. No, I''ll be a guard," he finally says in a serious tone, turning his attention to the festival as it officially begins.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Running towards the town, his worn-out shoes breaking a bit, he blends into the lively crowd. Elves are here, too; every race is present, Aarakocra also gliding in the sky, making this world already peaceful.


    The night festival in Volnia was a celebration unlike any other in Moerlan.


    As the moons settled over the town, the streets came alive with a riot of colors and sounds.


    Lanterns of all shapes and sizes were strung from building to building, casting a warm, flickering glow over the cobblestone streets below.


    In a corner of the square, a group of lizard-folk performers dazzled the audience with their acrobatic feats.


    Their varying blue and green scales shimmered in the lantern light as they twirled and leaped through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of drums.


    Nearby, elves in flowing robes danced gracefully, their movements fluid and hypnotic.


    As Leonardo wandered through the festival, he marveled at the sense of unity and joy that permeated the air.


    Further down the street, Ronald caught up with Leonardo, holding two plates laden with food. He grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "You''ve got to try this stew," he urged, handing Leonardo a steaming bowl. "It''s made with herbs from the hills just outside Volnia. Best you''ll ever taste!"


    Leonardo chuckled, "You''re a stall owner now?" accepting the bowl gratefully. As they ate, they found a quiet spot near the edge of the square, away from the bustling crowds.


    The stars twinkled overhead, casting a tranquil glow over the town. For a moment, Leonardo forgot about the hardships of the mine and the uncertainties of his future.


    "You know, I never really understood you," Ronald said, munching down his food with vigorous intent. "All I know is you''re my brother and that''s all that matters." No remarks, just silence is produced; to them, this is everything two brothers could ever need.


    Tonight, surrounded by friends and neighbors, he felt a sense of belonging that warmed his heart.


    The festival continued late into the night, the music and laughter echoing through the streets. Leonardo tried his best to go home when most people differed.


    Bumping into a few people, one acts as oddly as he does. "Are you Leonardo?" they ask, practically giggling.


    "Yes... wait, no? You''re wearing different clothes¡ª" Leonardo stammered, his confusion deepening as he took in the stranger''s appearance juxtaposed against a stature more fitting for a berserker, towering over him with an imposing presence.


    "I''m a big fan! But I didn''t like how Rosalina or Angelina treated you. Maybe it was because of Rollwind Mountain, but the time you went to Evergreen Hill? The one with the pixies? I was shocked¡ªhow could you kill such cute things? Or the Undergrowing Lake! I loved the way you butchered the monster¡ª"


    Leonardo''s thoughts raced as the man rambled on. Who are those people? he wondered. He had never heard those names before, let alone in the same breath. The places, however, were vaguely familiar, like words in a book he read, hated it but still read. But then it struck him¡ªthose places aren''t in Volnia.


    "Yeah, you''ll go there soon¡ªor maybe not, but¡ª"


    "Okay, I''m leaving now," Leonardo cut in, deciding the man must be mad.


    "Okay."


    The stranger melted back into the crowd, vanishing like a wisp of smoke. Leonardo stared after him, unsettled. That was odd, he thought.


    The white cloak had concealed almost everything, save for a bulging bag strapped beneath it. The only part of the stranger that had been visible was his right arm, making it easier to discern his gender. The man''s build was unmistakable¡ªno woman in all of Moerlan could possess such a physique.


    Still in his outfit, Leonardo wonders if that''s why most people avoid him at the festival. He heads back home after midnight, only to find the same figure at the bar door.


    "Ah, finally! I''ve been waiting for ages. Were you with Ronald? He''s one of my favorites, you know. That part¡ªoh, never mind," the figure said, rummaging through a pouch with swift, practiced motions.


    They pulled out a small, intricately carved stone and handed it to Leonardo. "I almost forgot to give you this. I love chaos; it''s my favorite theme," they added with a gleeful tone.


    Leonardo took the stone, its surface cool and smooth against his fingers, the figure''s enigmatic words lingering in his mind.


    "Chaos?"


    Why in Moerlan''s dynasty would he receive a stone from a stranger and even accept it?


    "Well, that''s it," the figure said, their voice radiating and sending a slight shiver like a cold morning. They shrugged off their cloak to reveal a mask underneath. The mask was plain yet striking¡ªdark blue with intricate lines running from the bottom to the nose area. It exuded an aura reminiscent of agnite radiation.


    The stone in hand looks like mere rubbish, a piece resembling those found on the ground. With the stranger gone, Leonardo seizes the opportunity to crush it without consequences, and so he does, clasping it between his hands.


    Everything feels still.


    Perhaps because everything is still.


    Leonardo''s mind is reeling. A spiral forms beneath his feet; no, everything is turning into a spiral. His senses dull as he joins the "Museum of Narratives."


    [Error#$#%]


    [Unrequested guest]

 Planets and stars of colossal proportions pass by him

    <div>


    The world around Leonardo begins to distort, as if he''s being propelled at immense speed toward an alternate location.


    The surroundings seem to halt only for them to drift away from him, leaving him stationary. Planets and stars of colossal proportions pass by him, as if he is a specter, the entire galaxy¡ªno, the entire universe¡ªforsaking him. He feels a strange sensation, as though he is slipping through the fabric of reality itself. In the current state of time, before he eventually leaves it, Leonardo is alone.


    He tries to open his amber eyes, which shine like stars in the place of complete darkness. He struggles as everything leaves him. From the void, a white light begins to emerge, chasing away the darkness with absolute brilliance.


    A white crystalline structure manifests, its edges sharp and gleaming.


    Figures of monumental stature, seemingly carved from the same brilliant crystal, stretch infinitely from the light. "Is this what they call heaven? I can''t go without Ronald..." Leonardo muses, struggling to fully open his eyes as the grandiose structure looms ever closer. The museum, a place where reality converges with imagination.


    He lands body-first on its surface. "The Gate?" he wonders, feeling the cold, smooth texture of the crystal beneath him. The formerly white, majestic structure begins to transform, influenced by the depths of Leonardo''s mind.


    First, the seemingly perfect building shatters, the pieces dissolving into nothingness. In their place, trees of incredible stature rise from the ground, their canopies stretching high into the sky.


    Verdant grass sprouts on the floors, its lush green a stark contrast to the cold crystal.


    The ceiling transforms into an azure sky that stretches endlessly, dotted with fluffy white clouds and bathed in the golden glow of the sun.


    Mountains of great heights rise in the landscape, their peaks capped with snow that glistens in the sunlight. Dragons soar through the sky like birds, their majestic forms casting shadows on the ground below.


    This is how Leonardo envisions the world¡ªa realm where everything is at the peak of adventure, a world where he can embark on an adventure.


    He lies there, reluctant to stand, savoring the breeze of this new world upon his skin, the feel of this unstepped grass beneath his fingertips.


    The scent of flowers and fresh earth fills the air, and the distant sound of a flowing river reaches his ears.


    Finally, he opens his eyes to see the world has vanished, leaving him in an empty white hall that seems to go on forever, with paintings at every possible corner.


    Struggling to stand, though he does, he walks aimlessly, his footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The space where his feet touch changes to grass with each step he takes, leaving a trail of greenery behind him.


    Step, step, the clambering of numerous footsteps, people are coming. "Those aren''t-" he''s cut short as he vomits behind a podium, trying to gain his balance. "Ronald..." That should be normal, for he traveled to an unknown location at high speeds. The steps are getting closer, and speech is getting louder.


    "Leonardo was a charismatic man, for he experienced what the people went through," the tour guide says to the tourists. He freezes, sweat trickling down his face. "Was that me?" he muses, confusion and fear evident. The hall, though straight, has many stops where podiums lie with stories to be explained. He hides behind a podium depicting a fiery dragon.


    "That''s really cool, but not right now." He bends down, the dragon posing as if chasing someone, its wings hung low for speed, thinks Leonardo. Though incredibly detailed, the scales look almost as if feeling the real thing. Then he thinks, "Have I ever felt the real thing?" Then stops there, almost here. He doesn''t know why he''s hiding, but it''s probably the best course of action.


    The dragon, being incredibly tall, around 11 feet by human standards, provided enough room for Leonardo to hide in. His outfit, though tattered, is still holding on, his mask the only thing unquestionably okay. He removes his shoes that seemed to attach to his trousers, taking a second to breathe. The tour guide is not as far off as before.


    "Leonardo, the hero in a world of a thousand heroes," he says, clasping his arms together. "Well, that''s that. if you''d like to know how the story progresses that will be for another time. Any questions?" Another from the crowd raises a hand to ask, "His story looks sad," bawling as they speak.


    "I suppose it is, maybe not, but one thing he always said is ''I carved my crown from the bones of kings; I am not a man--they kneel because I am inevitable,'' and another that goes like, ''I didn''t just take the throne, I am the throne. Without me, they are nothing.''" He laughs while talking.


    "Isn''t that narcissistic? I mean, calling yourself a throne is a bit of a stretch," one chimes in.


    "Maybe it is, but if you lived his life, maybe you''d have a different view of things," he says, removing his gloves.


    Pointing to the dragon where Leonardo lay, "How about we talk about the legendary crimson dragon, the duke of fire, Seraphim, a majestic six-winged beast?" At the mere utterance of the dragon, Leonardo''s heart drops, his muscles twitching. He then realizes why he was hiding.


    These aren''t ordinary people. Through his gas mask, his amber eyes lose their light, breathing becomes hard as he thinks of it.


    "Sir, could we please talk about Charles and the seven God swords?" one says excitedly. "Well, alright," the tour guide says, his smile turning into a frown.


    They begin walking to another exhibit, each step losing sound, and with each step, Leonardo gains a breath.


    The exhibit, though a bit far, is still visible, a cloaked man oozing something similar to Agnites'' radiation. He begins walking, soaking in the marvelous architecture.


    "I wonder who did this," he wonders, for everything is perfectly crafted, from the highest columns to the steps to the podium, even the air feels crafted. He continues walking, feeling multiple podiums as he walks. Amazing stories either told or yet to be, noticeable names were:


    [The Emperor of High View Mountain] [The Slave of the World''s View] And one that caught his eye: [Leonardo the chains of Moerlan] The podium has an intricate painting of the man smiling proudly with his mighty sword at the side. A life-sized version was also shown.


    "This-this is me?" It looks nothing similar as of right now, for Leonardo is nothing more than a shriveled rat in a mine, outfit dirty and everything, but the figure here looks like the one he dreams of, a mighty man capable of ruling a nation.


    "Hello there," a voice says, still ringing with an ambiance. Leonardo pauses, his hand at the figure of himself, his heartbeat increasing.


    "It''s the man from earlier," Leonardo thought.


    "It seems we have an [uninvited guest]," smiling as he speaks.


    As soon as the words were uttered, a label appeared on top of Leonardo: [Identification: Uninvited Guest] "Oh, I didn''t mean that," the man, known as the tour guide from earlier, says, getting closer.


    "Where are you from, young man?" he asks. "Few enter this realm without purpose. What is it you seek? Power? I''m joking, you want a free era explanation, do you?" The tour guide comes closer, eye to eye.


    "You don''t seem strong. You have a stage 2 skill


    [in this world everyone is born with skills befitting the story they''re in "hero" is a common skill given to the characters in a story, though unseeable unless in the museum of narratives, they play a huge part in the development of the story.]


    Leonardo''s skill set:


    Name: Leonardo.


    Age: 16


    Story skill: [miner]


    Title: [Uninvited Guest].


    Leonardo pauses for a minute. "Story what-" "You don''t even have an attached skill... where are you even from? I mean, you do have one, but what is ''positive thinking'' going to do?" The tour guide looks at Leonardo in pure disgust, holding Leonardo by the neck, wanting to end it here. "Wait, there might be use for you,"


    "I''m so- sorry, I''ll leave," Leonardo says, trying to gain his breath through minor gasps.


    "Leave where? I mean, I can''t kill you even if I wanted to."


    "You''re going to enter ''the Deplorable Era.'' Yes, it''s been quite a hassle to handle.


    I even wonder who are the main cast, ah you''ll figure that out, the meanest should be it." He drops Leonardo and begins talking to himself, pulling his glove to touch the temple of his head.


    The hallway seems to shift and change, blending into something entirely new. A turn appears, leading to a room¡ªa spacious office with the indicator [Head, Tour Guide Milah].


    The office is expansive, with a mini library at the back, a large desk in front of it and a chair behind it, by the side a couch with a lamp beside it.


    The tour guide gestures for Leonardo to sit in the chair opposite his desk. Leonardo obliges, eyeing the room as he sits.


    The shelves are lined with books of various sizes, their spines glistening with gold lettering. The air is filled with the scent of aged paper and polished wood.


    "You''re from the New Kingdom Era, [Uninvited Guest]. What are you doing here, Leonardo?" the tour guide said in a military-like tone. "I was just discussing you. It can''t be mere coincidence."


    "Mil-" Leonardo stammers, the words dropping from his mouth.


    "You are from a place below the Museum," he says then continues, "I want you to go to the Deplorable Era, to merely fix a bit of stuff," the tour guide says, his tone absolute.


    "The Deplorable Era? What is that?" Leonardo asks, confusion evident.


    The tour guide leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. "The Deplorable Era is a time of unavoidable conflict.


    The stories there can hardly be called stories¡ªthey''re plotless and chaotic, with an eerie atmosphere that feels apocalyptic. It''s a hassle to manage, so I want you to go there and¡­ fix things. The main cast."


    Leonardo''s eyes widen. "What? Mister!" he starts, but the tour guide cuts him off.


    "Tour guide."


    "Okay, Tour Guide Sir, this is a whole misunderstanding. I really don''t know how I ended up here.


    Some guy came up to me and gave me a stone, it was normal I swear, then I travelled. I don''t even know, it was scary," Leonardo says.


    "A stone?"


    "Yes! He wore a white robe and was talking about me with some other gir-, ahem people, and me going to different places."


    "Oh, he did this then," Tour Guide Milah says, resting his head on his palms.


    "Who did? Sir?"


    "Your biggest fan, I suppose? He was talking about it," he continues without stopping, Leonardo sensing familiarity between them.


    "He''ll get killed next time." was the final word. It rings around the entire room, making Leonardo sink into his chair.


    Silence fills the room. The tour guide stares at Leonardo, his gaze intense. Suddenly, the room starts shaking, the walls vibrating with an unseen force. The light flickers, and Leonardo clutches the armrests of his chair.


    The room eventually shatters into darkness. The void stares back at Leonardo, its inky blackness threatening to consume him. But then, the darkness morphs into a grassy hill with a peach tree at the center.


    An umbrella and two chairs are also there, casting shadows in the soft sunlight.


    "Let''s make it official then," the tour guide says, his voice calm amidst the surreal transformation.


    A sheet of paper forms out of the air, floating gently down into the tour guide''s hand. He dons his gloves again, the white fabric contrasting sharply with the dark void. He signs the paper with a flourish and hands it over to Leonardo. "Sign it."


    Leonardo hesitates, his hand trembling as he takes the paper. The document contains detailed information about the museum: "On this day and hour of the Pristine Museum time, Leonardo is officially a Tour Guide Practical Officer. In response to that, an attachment skill will be randomly given to fit new role. Owner of the Realm: ¡ª¡ª¡ª (blurred)."


    Leonardo swallows hard, the pressure building inside him. He doesn''t even look at the contract, only noticing a few lines, "No more improvements-" His heart races as he forces himself to sign the document. The ink glows briefly before settling into the paper.


    "Well then, we need to change that outfit of yours. What do you want? Clothes? Weapons? Maybe a bath?" the tour guide asks, his tone more conversational now.


    "What?" Leonardo responds, still in shock, maybe not shock but the fact someone wants to give him something without requesting another in return.


    "Are you naturally slow?" the tour guide sighs. Suddenly, Leonardo''s outfit morphs into something he always dreamed of wearing.


    The outfit is a streamlined version of a traditional butler suit, tailored to fit Leonardo''s short frame. The white long-sleeved shirt is crisp and well-fitted, offering a balance of formality and comfort.


    Over it, the red vest is snug, with subtle detailing that hints at a youthful yet refined taste. It features a few discreet pockets, perhaps for carrying small items, and a reinforced area along the side where a sheath for the sword can be attached securely, making it practical for someone who needs both mobility and elegance.


    The overall look is sophisticated but not too formal, making it ideal for a young individual who needs to blend style with function. [No coat, a white long-sleeved shirt beneath a red vest, matching his black pants]


    "A sword?" Leonardo says, going to draw it. "I''ve always wanted to hold a sword..." he says, only to see it empty.


    "It''s empty-"


    "It''s empty... I can only give you a single thing, the cloth seemed like the best option. I''ll be useful until it isn''t."


    "Until it isn''t?"


    "You weren''t supposed to be here."


    Tension fills the space.


    Words appear in the sky in front of them: [Recalculating Attachment Skill and Story Skill]


    The tour guide watches, his expression unreadable. Leonardo''s heart pounds as the seconds stretch into minutes.


    Twenty minutes later.


    "Surprising."

 "Welcome to the Skyway Hub,"

    Turning back to see the tour guide, Milah''s mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Your skill is now stage 5? It seems you''ve progressed accidentally.


    I didn''t realize giving you a job that didn''t exist would elevate you to this rank," he sighed, rubbing his temples as if to process the unexpected development.


    "Your attachment skill seems..." He trailed off, glancing at the text that materialized out of nothing and floated aimlessly:


    [Adaptive Evolution]


    The air around them seemed to shimmer slightly as the text materialized, drawing Leonardo''s attention.


    Milah''s eyes flickered with a hint of curiosity. "Well then, that seems brilliant for your new job," he practically snickered, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.


    [Adaptive Evolution: Adaptive evolution is the ability to undergo rapid and targeted evolutionary changes in response to environmental stimuli or threats. This skill allows the individual to develop new physical, mental, or biological traits that enhance survival and effectiveness in various situations.]


    "Wait, can I adapt to dying?" Leonardo asked, blushing at his newfound skill. His heart raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension.


    The thought of evolving to avoid death felt like an overwhelming paradox, one that challenged his understanding of life and mortality.


    The tour guide looked at Leonardo flatly. "No," he said, his tone brusque. "Everyone has to die at one point; a story has to end." He stood up from the chair, and as he did, the world around them began to shift.


    The vibrant colors of the peach tree and the soft rustling of leaves faded away, replaced by the opulent surroundings of Milah''s office.


    The transition felt like being gently pulled through a veil, with the scent of blooming flowers giving way to the rich aroma of polished wood and aged parchment.


    "Well then, these are your current skills," Milah said, his voice echoing slightly in the grand room adorned with ancient artifacts and intricate tapestries.


    Name: Leonardo Thatcher


    Age: 16


    Story Skill: Tour Guide Practical Officer, Stage 5


    Attachment Skill: Adaptive Evolution


    Unwritten Skill: Priest: 3 unwritten skills


    Title Skill: [Uninvited Guest], Champion Stage


    Rasvian Control: Rank: Adept


    Leonardo looked at this in awe. Each skill description seemed to glow faintly, their significance slowly sinking in. "You didn''t explain Rasvian. What is that?" he asked, confusion evident.


    Milah''s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It''s a long story," he replied, dripping with sarcasm.


    He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together as if contemplating how much to reveal. The room''s lighting seemed to dim slightly, adding a dramatic flair to his words. He seemed almost to enjoy the power he held over Leonardo''s understanding.


    "Wait, what?" Leonardo responded, frustration creeping into his voice.


    "I''ll tell you later."


    "You''re acting-"


    "I''m acting?"


    "No, but you could at least tell me anything?"


    "How about you do a quick tutorial, per se," Tour Guide Milah said, smirking a bit.


    "You''ll reach a city soon. It''s big, so don''t die from shock."


    "City?"


    "Anyway, it will take time before the big boss," Milah pointed upwards, "will accept my complaint." Dragging Leonardo out of the room, he said, "Go do your job before it''s too late," smiling as he closed the door.


    "What does he mean ''do my job''!" Leonardo cried out back to the door, which was no longer there.


    The room that had been there before began vanishing, replaced by the museum''s extraordinary walls. The transition was abrupt, the office''s grandeur replaced by the museum''s endless expanse, filled with a faint hum of energy and the distant echoes of countless stories.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Leonardo wandered for a while, not knowing how to use anything in this space. He felt a profound sense of isolation. "I miss Ronald," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper in the vast emptiness. The museum, an infinitely expanding space filled with Rasvian energy, had an almost ethereal quality to it, the air shimmering with latent power. The walls seemed to pulse with life, the very fabric of the museum woven from the stories it contained.


    He stumbled upon a floating text that explained the uses of Rasvian energy:


    Three main uses- he skipped a line


    Building.


    He stopped reading from the text that randomly appeared in front of him. "Building?" He looked confused, his mind struggling to grasp the implications. "I mean, you''d think I would say creation?"


    A sudden wave of destruction expanded, transforming the entire space around him into chaos. The ground trembled, and the air was filled with a deafening roar. He gagged, feeling nauseated. "Not another one," he muttered, clutching his stomach as the world spun around him.


    The destruction was like a violent storm, ripping through the fabric of reality itself, leaving Leonardo disoriented and terrified.


    As the chaos subsided, he found himself in a new section of the museum. The shift was disorienting, the once-stable ground now replaced with a bustling cityscape. The transition felt like being torn from one world and thrust into another, the sensory overload almost too much to bear.


    [A City in the Museum of Stories] it read.


    [Ghent] appeared in full caps, practically in front of him. "Argh, I already see it," he told the text. The letters hovered for a moment longer before fading away, leaving Leonardo to take in his new surroundings. The city was unlike anything he had ever seen, a blend of advanced technology and timeless architecture.


    [Good] it responded, vanishing the next moment. He had been in the museum a while ago reading a text explaining the various uses of Rasvian energy.


    Now he was in a city filled with towering, futuristic structures. The buildings seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, their sleek designs a testament to advanced engineering.


    A train station hovered in the sky, with most of the city suspended above the ground. In the center stood a monumental tower that seemed to pierce the heavens, [The Stem]. Surrounding the city was an expanse of endless grass and mountains, their natural beauty contrasting sharply with the urban sprawl.


    He walked around aimlessly, observing the [crossroads] and [stoplights]. "Uh, thank you, text," he said, embarrassed it had to explain everything for him. The streets were alive with activity, people of various shapes and sizes moving with purpose. He saw something zoom past him in a blur, the motor engine roaring, grey gas trailing behind. "What is that?"


    [Car: A wheeled motor vehicle used for transportation, typically powered by an internal Rasvian-based engine]


    "Wow," he continued watching as it drifted away in a cloud of smoke.


    "Are there any more text?"


    **[? Sedans: Traditional passenger vehicles with separate compartments for the engine, passengers, and cargo.


    SUVs (Sport Utility Vehicles): Larger vehicles designed for off-road capability and more cargo space.


    Coupes: Cars with a sporty design, typically with two doors. Convertibles: Cars with a roof that can be folded down or removed.


    Hatchbacks: Cars with a rear door that swings upward, providing access to the cargo area. Electric Cars: Vehicles powered entirely by Rasvian motors and batteries.]**


    "OOOOH?! There''s actually more." He looked at the gloves that came with the suit and clenched them.


    "My new goal is to find all the types of cars," he said to himself happily, standing in front of the crossroad next to the stop sign with multiple people waiting for it to turn green. No one paid him any mind, their faces a blur of indifference.


    The variety of cars was astounding, each one a marvel of engineering and design.


    "Must be mad," someone in the crowd said.


    "Yeah," another replied.


    Suddenly, two girls approached him as he begins walking. "Hi," one of them said, her voice commanding, making him step back a bit. Leonardo, who was approximately 5''1"¡ªa normal height in his era, even considered tall¡ªwas flabbergasted by the attention.


    He was so caught up with the city, focusing on its intricate details, that he had completely forgotten how tall people were here. These girls were ridiculously tall, towering over him like giants. He felt like a child standing next to them.


    "What are those?" he blurted out, trying to mask his nervousness.


    [Humans living in the city]


    "They''re so tall," he said nervously. His voice was barely above a whisper, but the girl and her friend seemed to catch every word.


    The other girl, who introduced herself, giggled. "You are really short," she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She was even taller than the last girl, and both of them had an ethereal grace that made Leonardo feel clumsy in comparison.


    As he walked through the bustling streets, he passed a myriad of shops, each more extravagant than the last.


    The people wore vibrant, intricate clothing, some of them cursing him as he accidentally bumped into them, a sprawling metropolis. The city''s sheer size and the constant flow of people overwhelmed him.


    Tall skyscrapers rising with different lights to them


    "It really is big."


    He stumbled into an open square, where a grand fountain sprayed water in intricate patterns. The buildings around him were adorned with futuristic designs, blending seamlessly with elements of classical architecture. The blend of old and new was mesmerizing.


    He could see flying vehicles zipping through the air above, and holographic advertisements of a woman with brown hair talking about a new idea floated in mid-air, displaying everything from fashion to technology.


    Feeling a bit more composed, he continued exploring, his eyes wide with wonder. He passed through market stalls where vendors sold exotic goods.


    The air was filled with the aroma of unfamiliar spices and the chatter of people in different languages. Each stall was a feast for the senses, offering everything from alien fruits to handcrafted artifacts that glowed with their own inner light.


    He then stopped to ask the text, "How am I understanding them?"


    [Immediate language translator]


    He continued walking, pausing to ask if there was a king.


    [No current king; the current ruler is one of the 21 gods, who leave jurisdiction to 5 sages and a tour guide.]


    "Sage sounds fun, seems like another ranking," he mused. The atmosphere changed, reminiscent of when he had been in his earlier world staring at the moon. He appeared to be in a trance again, continuing, "Everything just got harder." He sighed, walking towards the enormous tower at the center of the city, [The Stem].


    "Welcome to the Skyway Hub," the conductor said cheerfully through a microphone to the crowd waiting to enter the train. Most people were on their phones, not paying attention to the speech.


    On the other hand, Leonardo paid attention to every possible detail. "You''ll need to get through here to reach the floors of The Stem," the conductor finally said.


    Leonardo listened intently, his ears absorbing every word.

 4.435 billion sq. mi

    The conductor continues, "The Stem is a vast edifice," then pauses to laugh, "Calling it a building would be an understatement.


    This colossal tower, composed of approximately 3,479 floors, is a testament to the power of Sage Rolhim." Leonardo turns to gaze at it in awe.


    The tower''s surface gleams like polished gold, each window reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display.


    The structure is so tall that its pinnacle disappears into the clouds, an awe-inspiring sight that leaves Leonardo momentarily speechless. Around them, the hustle and bustle of the city unfold.


    "Who''s the king of this place?" Leonardo asked, his gaze fixed on the floating symbols and patterns of Rasvian energy forming a stem-like structure in the air.


    [There is no current king. Each of the 21 realms is governed by 5 sages. You are currently in the 21st realm.]


    "Twenty-one realms...?" Leonardo muttered, his eyes widening as he tried to comprehend the scale.


    The words hung in the air, dense with implications he hadn''t considered before. He hadn''t expected the world to be so vast, layered with dimensions each guided by its own set of rulers, not by monarchs or earthly lords, but by sages whose powers and responsibilities extended beyond mere governance.


    The ground level is a vibrant hub of activity, with buildings of varying architectural styles stretching as far as the eye can see.


    This area is a wide expanse designed to accommodate the massive train, with plenty of space for passengers and goods of all sizes to move freely.


    Leonardo takes a moment to absorb the scenery. The atmosphere is alive with the sounds of commerce and conversation.


    The city''s atmosphere is a mix of excitement and chaos, the sensory overload both exhilarating and overwhelming.


    The air is filled with the aroma of street food, making Leonardo''s stomach growl. His senses are overwhelmed by the sheer scale and diversity of the city, each corner revealing something new and fascinating.


    The colors, the textures, the myriad of voices all blend into a symphony of urban life that is both exhilarating and intimidating.


    The train itself is a marvel of modern engineering, resembling a bullet train but with a sleeker, more aerodynamic design.


    It''s known for its remarkable speed, able to transport its 79 cabs of passengers and cargo across great distances in the blink of an eye.


    The vibrant purple exterior of the train catches the light in such a way that it almost seems to glow, adding to its otherworldly appearance as it zips through the sky.


    The sight of the train in motion is mesmerizing, its streamlined form cutting through the air with ease.


    Sunlight dances off the golden fa?ade of the Stem, creating a kaleidoscope of reflections that shift with every passing cloud.


    Shadows cast by the towering buildings play across the street, adding depth to the vibrant scene.


    "Now, pay at the station desk not too far to your left," the conductor says, pointing towards it.


    Leonardo happily follows the directions towards the desk, waiting in the queue. The excitement of the day bubbles within him.


    "I can''t wait to go in there. I wonder when Tour Guide Milah will be done," he muses aloud, thinking about the adventures that lie ahead.


    [Unknown].


    He stops in his tracks. "What do you mean, unknown?" he asks abruptly, causing those behind him to curse and bump into him.


    [Acceptance to go to an era of conflict is a hard process], people pull their eyes away from their endless scrolling, urging him to move.


    He eventually does so, much to their relief and some scoffing. The crowd is a mix of different people, each immersed in their own world, scrolling through holographic screens that hover before their eyes.


    The diversity in attire and technology reflects the city''s blend of tradition and modernity. Leonardo finally reaches the desk, where a man in an average-looking suit, with a hat facing forward and a monocle on his right eye, waits.


    The monocle is connected by a delicate chain to his ear, giving him an air of old-world sophistication.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    His gloved hand extends from behind the screen, gesturing for Leonardo to drop money [draws].


    [Draws is one of the numerous currencies used in the museum. It has another denomination, silk. Twenty silks equal one draw, with draws being the principal system, though other items could be exchanged for draws.]


    The text glows faintly.


    Leonardo smiles, albeit slightly. "That''s good to know," he murmurs, the knowledge now firmly embedded in his mind.


    Turning his attention back to practical means¡ª"Again, how do I get draws?" Leonardo asks, genuinely puzzled. The man sighs, retracting his hand, and speaks into a microphone, "Guards," he says flatly, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious station.


    The sudden call for guards sends a chill down Leonardo''s spine. He glances around nervously, realizing the seriousness of his situation.


    The train station, as described earlier, is a hub of activity. The train moves people towards the tower, yet Leonardo remains on the ground, watching as it hovers and then speeds away. "How does it even fly?" he wonders aloud. The answer appears in floating text [Rasvian].


    "Makes sense," he shrugs, moving away from the large clearing. "I''ve made it my mission to get rich," he declares, clenching his fist, amber eyes alight with determination.


    He walks through the city once more. His short stature makes him feel subhuman compared to the towering figures in the museum. The steps are magnificently crafted, each one telling a story through its intricate carvings, and he looks up to see the sun shining brightly in the sky, yet the city still retains a dark atmosphere like a rainy day.


    The buildings around him are a mix of ancient and futuristic designs, with towering skyscrapers standing next to quaint, old-fashioned shops.


    He huffs and continues walking. "How do I earn money?" he speaks to himself.


    [Traditional Employment: 1. Full-time or Part-time Jobs: Working for a company in a role that fits your skills. "rolls-worth"


    Freelancing: Offering your skills (writing, graphic design, programming, etc.) on platforms like RasvianCore or Muesur. 3. Temporary or Gig Work].


    Leonardo examines the floating text carefully, then responds, "Any way to earn money faster?" He reminisces about his past life, then suddenly gasps. "Is there a miner institute here?" [No] and for the second question, [Butler]. It fits his current position, and the money varies from extremely small to large amounts of draws.


    He looks at his current outfit, his guide''s uniform already resembling a butler''s except for no blazer, "Well then, a butler it is," he decides. His mind races with possibilities, envisioning himself serving in grand halls, interacting with influential figures, and perhaps uncovering secrets hidden within the opulent walls.


    The city has intersections that are found almost everywhere. He walks towards one, seeing cars pass.


    Every new car in sight he asked if it was a new type of car, to which he was always responded with a flat [no]. He tries to move when the stoplight is red.


    [Red: Stop ,Yellow: Get ready,Green: Go] the floating text says. He watches it, "That''s confusing," continuing to ask the floating text to list all the colors. Leonardo was but a harlot; he had no idea what the idea of "colors" meant.


    He eventually followed people who actually knew what they were doing, seeing an old woman struggle to pass. Using a walking stick, he thinks as time slows down to either help her or not, and eventually decides to help her, for what does he have to lose.


    "Do you need help?" he asks in a caring tone.


    "Oh, young man, why yes I would," she says, rather flattered by this.


    Holding her and guiding her towards the other end, he meets the two girls from earlier [Anna] and [Elara].


    "My, my, who do we have here?" The taller one said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. She adjusted her crimson scarf, eyes studying him with interest.


    Her companion, shorter crossed her arms. "Rather lost, by the looks of it." Her gaze softened as Leonardo took a step back. "I''m Elara, and this is Anna. No need to look so frightened."


    Leonardo glanced nervously over his shoulder at the looming Tower of Rolmin. Its surface caught the dying sunlight, transforming the structure into a pillar of flame. "I apologize, but I must go. The Stem¡ªI mean, the Tower¡ªI''m already late."


    Anna''s eyebrows shot up. "The Stem? Well, isn''t that a delightful coincidence. We''re residents ourselves." She exchanged a meaningful look with Elara.


    "What level?" Elara asked, her previous detachment replaced by genuine curiosity. When Leonardo hesitated, she added, "You''re new here, aren''t you? I don''t recall seeing you during in the last trip down?"


    "I¡ªyes," Leonardo admitted, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Just arrived yesterday. I''m still learning my way around."


    "Then you''re in luck," Elara said, a warm smile spreading across her face. She gestured toward the Tower''s entrance. "Consider us your unofficial welcome committee. The Stem can be quite overwhelming at first, but with the right guides..." She left the offer hanging in the air.


    [No answer].


    The city in question is [4.435 billion sq. mi]. The expanse is mind-boggling, with districts dedicated to various trades and cultures, each one unique in its architecture and vibe.


    "No thank you" he replies he had enough of meeting random strangers that make his entire life worse, bowing to leave.


    Elara, with blond hair, wears an elegant floral dress made aesthetically to look similar to a Renaissance milkmaid dress with the same vibrant yellow on it.


    Anna, on the other hand, has brown hair and wears a vintage blouse with long sleeves and wide skirts with contrasting colors of white and brown. Their outfits are a blend of past and future, just like the city itself.


    "How rude," Anna says.


    The vibrant purple of the train shimmered against the backdrop of the city, its color deepening as the sun dipped lower in the sky.


    "Thank you for your kindness," Leonardo called back to the old woman, watching her small figure disappear into the crowd.


    Anna''s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and precise. "Now then, you''ll be escorting us the rest of the way."


    "I''m sorry, what?"


    "It wasn''t a request," Anna said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "You see, wandering around here without proper credentials... well, let''s just say the Tower Guards have some rather unpleasant accommodations underground. They''re quite enthusiastic about showing them to unauthorized visitors."


    Elara shot her companion a reproachful look. "What Anna means is that it would be safer¡ªfor everyone¡ªif you accompanied us. The Guards are particularly strict at this hour."


    Leonardo''s gaze darted between the two women, then to the imposing silhouette of the Tower behind them. "You''re saying I don''t have a choice?"


    "Oh, you always have a choice," Anna replied cheerfully, linking her arm through his. "It''s just that some choices are significantly better than others. Shall we?

 Belleza del Pasado

    Leonardo continues following both Anna and Elara through the increasingly desolate city streets as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that intertwined with the cityscape.


    The occasional purple glow of the train passing overhead illuminated the dimming surroundings, creating a surreal contrast against the encroaching darkness.


    The dwindling populace parted like the Red Sea to avoid the fumbling Elara, her floral dress proving to be an ongoing obstacle.


    "Have you never walked on pavement before?" Leonardo asked, his voice tinged with genuine bewilderment.


    Elara steadied herself, cheeks flushing. "First time outside the tower, actually. The ground here... it''s different than what I''m used to."


    "Speaking of which, where exactly are we headed?" Anna cut in, her patience wearing thin.


    "It''s my first time in this place too," Leonardo confessed, his eyes darting to the numerous intersections and the seemingly endless expanse of the city.


    "What do you mean, your first time?" Anna queried, suspicion lacing her tone.


    Leonardo''s shoulders tensed. "Truth be told, I''m not familiar with this area either."


    "What do you mean, ''not familiar''?" Anna''s eyes narrowed.


    "I, uh, just started the job," Leonardo admitted, scratching his cheek nervously.


    "Started what job?" Elara asked, still fighting with her dress hem.


    "And how old are you anyway?" Anna pressed.


    Leonardo straightened his posture. "Look, we never properly introduced ourselves¡ª"


    "Because you basically kidnapped me with that guard threat," he continued, suddenly realizing, "which was a lie, wasn''t it?"


    He clenched his fist, voice softer. "I was supposed to be a butler. I needed the draws"


    They both watched as Leonardo wrestled with his inner monologue. "I may not know this city," he admitted, stopping in his tracks.


    The sun like Light, now perfectly aligned with the horizon, casting a deep orange hue over the city. His amber eyes glowed, blending seamlessly with the sunset, and his brown skin took on a tan shade that harmonized with his brown hair, creating a picture of serene beauty.


    "I may not know this city, but I promise to do my best as a tour guide practical officer."


    "A what now?" Elara blinked.


    "That was... surprisingly dramatic," she added with a small laugh.


    "Tour guide prac¡ª" Leonardo stumbled over the words.


    Anna waved dismissively. "Everyone knows what a tour guide is. Well, almost everyone."


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "There''s a caf¨¦ right there," Elara pointed. "Maybe we should sort this out over drinks?"


    "Or we could head back to the tower and deal with this tomorrow," Anna suggested flatly.


    "Sister, please," Elara sighed.


    "Ca-fre?" Leonardo tested the unfamiliar word.


    "Where are you really from?" Anna asked, leading the way. "Because it''s definitely not the tower."


    The caf¨¦ in question was not far off, just two streets away. As they walked, Leonardo continued talking to himself, sighing each time a car passed by.


    Anna watched him with growing dismay, muttering under her breath, "This was a mistake, Father''s going to have my head."


    Upon closer inspection, the caf¨¦ looked very much like a relic from the Victorian era, its aesthetics paying homage to the classical period.


    The sign above the entrance was in the language they all spoke, but unlike spoken language, Leonardo had to ask for a translation.


    At the caf¨¦ entrance, Leonardo squinted at the sign. "What does that say?"


    "What do you mean ''what does it say''?" Elara asked, bewildered.


    "It''s Kol-nic, plain as day," she added, growing more confused.


    [Kol-nic, a language used in this realm of the museum made by one of the sages to communicate with the god.]


    Finally, a translation appeared, replacing the words on the sign: [La Belleza del Pasado]. Leonardo squinted at the translation until it changed to [The Beauty of the Past].


    "Uh, seems like you got it," Anna said.


    "Yeah, I think I do," Leonardo replied, a smile creeping onto his face.


    The inside of the caf¨¦ was a testament to the past, with rich mahogany furniture and plush velvet upholstery that created an air of opulence.


    The walls were adorned with vintage paintings and ornate mirrors, reflecting the warm glow of the antique chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.


    The curtains and tables were designed to capture the essence of medieval royalty, with intricate lace tablecloths and polished silverware adding to the grandeur.


    Approaching the counter, Leonardo said, "Hi, welcome to La Belleza del Pasado. What would you like for today''s order?"


    "Two caf¨¦ almendra for both of us and," Elara said, turning to Leonardo, "what would you like?"


    The interior was fantastic, though not quite up to the museum''s standard; the decoration was amazing nonetheless.


    "Hello, care to come back to realm 21?" Anna said in a mocking tone.


    "Oh, I''m sorry," Leonardo said, looking over at the translated menu board before finally deciding randomly. "Caf¨¦ del Pasado," he ordered.


    "That''s our most famous coffee. Hope you enjoy," the barista said, her smile warm and welcoming.


    They made their way to the couch-based chairs with two on each side facing each other and a table in between.


    The cushions were plush, and the ambiance was cozy, inviting them to relax and enjoy their drinks.


    As they sat down, Anna first raised the question, "What''s your name?"


    "It''s Leonardo, Leonardo Hatcher," he said.


    "It seems you already know our names, but for courtesy''s sake, my name is Elara, and she, my sister, is Anna."


    She then asked Leonardo his age. "I''m still in my youth," he said flatly.


    "Huh, we know you''re a youth. You''re 5''1," Anna said, laughing a bit.


    [16]


    "16?" Leonardo said, looking at the glowing floating text.


    "Oh, you''re 16" Anna said, snickering. Then, continuing to say, "I''m a year older than you," she abruptly leaned in, both hands on the table. "I suppose you know what that means."


    "No," Leonardo replied flatly. He wouldn''t take this type of tomfoolery from anyone. He may joke a few times, but that doesn''t make him a clown.


    "Well, Elara, at least we picked one with a spine," Anna lay back into her seat.


    "Don''t mind her," Elara said in a secondhand embarrassment tone, continuing to say, "It appears I''m the youngest. I''m 15," she said politely.


    The darkness finally seeped in.


    "Isn''t the night amazing?" Leonardo said, staring through the window.


    "Hey, are those stars?" he continued to say.


    "You''re definitely not from here. They are different cities in this realm," Anna said as she, too, watched them.


    "Wait, what?" Leonardo turned in a fast movement.


    "Did he just give you the job without explaining anything?" Elara said.


    "Still, try the coffee," she finally said.


    "You''re hiding things," Anna muttered, looking at Leonardo with deadly accuracy.


    Leonardo obliged, holding it steady as he sipped a bit. The former atmosphere of Q&A changed to one of pure happiness as Leonardo expressed his joy upon tasting the coffee.


    "How is this made?" His eyes practically gleamed with curiosity.


    Anna scoffed, and Elara proceeded to say, "You really are weird," as she laughed.

 Stars

    "Are you telling me all those stars are cities?" Leonardo was speechless. The museum was far larger than he had imagined. "Infinitely expanding, conquering the void," he muttered to himself.


    "Wait, no!" Elara jolted up. "Those aren''t Cities!"


    "There are only a hundred cities," Anna corrected. "Those are Eras... I think."


    Leonardo stood up abruptly as They spoke those words, walking toward the counter. He wanted to learn how to make coffee. Those two girls had already soiled both of his former goals of finding all the types of cars and securing a job to earn drawings.


    He reached but a few steps before being stopped by Elara. "We aren''t done yet, are we?" she said, implying more questions were to be asked.


    He sighed, signaling his mood was ruined once again. Striding back toward the couch-based chair, he sat, with both Anna and Elara in front of him, wide-eyed as if waiting to ask a question.


    "Uh, go ahead," Leonardo said, sensing the evident tone.


    "Ahem," Anna cleared her throat.


    "How exactly," Anna leaned forward, "is a sixteen-year-old a tour guide?"


    "Tour Guide Practical Officer," Leonardo corrected, unable to help himself.


    He had learned a few things from his short time with Milah, as he was a naturally fast learner.


    "Uh, yeah, whatever that''s called," she said, sighing. "And the Tour Guide Practical Officer you keep mentioning doesn''t exist."


    "How would you know?" he said in a sarcastic tone.


    "We would know because we are from the Stem," Elara butted in, looking outside the windows.


    "Then what are you two doing out here?"


    Anna''s tone turned businesslike. "Look, we need someone to guide us through 17 places. You clearly have nothing better to do. Will you help?"


    "Seventeen? That''s... a lot. He won''t like that..."


    "Then just escort us back to the tower."


    "That I can do."


    [You can join them, for now]


    "Nevermind, I''ll join you, for now," he says slowly, looking at the text.


    "That was quick. I was planning on just forcing you. Going to another city to find a guide will be near impossible now," Anna says.


    "Yeah," Leonardo responds, not understanding a sentence that came from her mouth.


    The moonlight illuminated the entire place.


    The intricate, rich mahogany furniture had a glow of slight blue, and plush velvet upholstery created an air of opulence.


    It appeared as if stars were falling on Elara''s face as she continued gazing through the window. The Stem in question, in its great golden size, washed by the moon''s light, appeared somewhat mystic.


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    The train still passed overhead seamlessly like an owl in the night, soundless to the masses. Its eerie purple light shone greatly in the night. Some called it the "Right Star" for it guided the way to this city for those lost in the endless expanse of hills and various creatures of terror.


    The moon in question was a single, incredibly submissive light in the sky having no similarities to the moon "back home". Leonardo stiffened with shock, watching as it stayed abruptly on the horizon.


    "There''s a single moon?" he continued staring in awe.


    "Yeah, why would there be more?" Anna asked, confused.


    "Oh no, in my world, there are two and they were much bigger," he said, turning to them.


    "You must be from another city then," Elara said, clasping her hands together. "Why''d you come here though?"


    "Someone brought me here against my will," he said flatly, his aura indicating to Elara and Anna not to ask any further.


    "Anyway, I have to learn how to make this," he said passionately, standing up this time without anyone stopping him and heading to the counter. "Hey miss, do you suppose you could teach me how to make the coffee you gave me?"


    Now that Leonardo was talking directly to her, he could see that even though the text could translate the language [kol-nic], somehow the accent still remained. "Ah, sure," she replied, glancing at the vintage clock on the wall. It was obvious she was checking the time.


    The museum outside of time had to make it so only a few realms were completely timeless. In the realm they were currently in, time was perceived, though slowly compared to a world under the complete influence of time.


    "It appears we still have a few hours," she said, turning back to Leonardo with a smile. She led him to the stove behind the counter built with a ton of machinery and began explaining, evidently trying to get through this as quickly as possible.


    "To make coffee," she said slowly, "start by selecting high-quality, fresh coffee beans." The beans are found in the countless estates outside the city, "ideally recently roasted," implying the coffee beans should be new.


    "Grind the beans using a burr grinder," she continued, moving over to the machine with the newly ground beans, "adjusting the grind size according to your chosen brewing method¡ªcoarse for French press, medium for drip, fine for espresso." "But for your coffee, a French press," she said, adjusting the machine for the method.


    "For a French press, use a coarse grind, measure 1 to 2 tablespoons per 6 ounces of water," she said quickly, and Leonardo found it hard to follow but eventually caught up. "Boil filtered water to around 200¡ãF," she continued, with Leonardo''s eyes following her every movement. "Add the grounds to the French press, pour in the hot water," she said, moving exactly in correspondence to her speech, "stir, let steep for 4 minutes."


    They waited, time moving slowly, Leonardo stressed. Anna staring. Elara smiled. "You''re really determined, aren''t you?" she said.


    "I want to get it right," he said, sweating while looking at the coffee.


    "Then slowly press the plunger and serve."


    Leonardo looked at his coffee and tasted it with Elara and Anna.


    "Hrgh," he almost puked.


    It''s horrible," Anna wheezed between laughs. "You really¡ª" she gagged, "¡ªtried though."


    The lady standing away watched as they tried miserably to make it taste good. "To make cold brew," she said, capturing everyone''s attention, "use a coarse grind, mix 1 cup of coffee with 4 cups of cold, filtered water in a jar or cold brew maker, let steep in the refrigerator for 12-24 hours, strain the concentrate, and dilute with water or milk before serving over ice.


    For optimal results, use freshly roasted beans, grind just before brewing, use filtered water, keep your equipment clean, and adjust variables like coffee-to-water ratio, grind size, and brewing time to suit your taste," she said in an extremely fast manner.


    "Wait, what?" Leonardo said, baffled at how quickly she said it.


    "Too fast," Anna agreed.


    "Oh, I got it all!" Elara beamed.


    "You did?" Leonardo said, continuing, "Could you teach me?"


    "Ah, it appears it''s time for closing," the lady said in an annoyed tone, pointing towards the vintage clock, which read [11:28].


    "Oh, okay," they all said, understanding her annoyed expression and walking out of the caf¨¦. The door shifted closed behind them.


    Leonardo turned towards the sign to see its closing hours: [7:00-12:00]. "What does that mean?"


    [Matins*, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline.]


    "Wait, so they close at Matins?" he said, scrutinizing the text carefully.


    "Well, now we can start exploring," Elara said, excitement evident. "Let''s go to the Tower first," implying she wanted to get everything set.


    "Now that we have someone to guide us, Father won''t bother us anymore," Anna said, her former gloomy demeanor overshadowed by her sudden spark of enthusiasm.


    "Why seventeen places though?"


    "Not places¡ªthe 17 Wonders of this realm," Elara corrected.


    "And why those?" asked Leonardo again


    "The Stem¡ª" Elara started, then seemed to reconsider. "Let''s just say it''s a quest from someone important."


    Leonardo ran his fingers through his hair. "How long will this take?"


    "No idea!" Elara chirped.

 Liturgy of the Hours

    The way to the tower seemed to stretch on forever, the moon hanging high in the sky, casting its silvery glow on the path ahead.


    They had been walking for quite some time, and the tower, with its immense size, looked deceptively distant.


    The streets were illuminated by passing cars, their headlights creating fleeting shadows that danced across the road. Stoplights changed colors rhythmically, creating a mesmerizing dance of illumination.


    Leonardo walked in sync with Elara and Anna, like dancers in a choreographed routine.


    Elara''s floral dress billowed gracefully in the breeze, and Anna, with her long, wavy brown hair, occasionally tucked it behind her ear to keep it from her face. Leonardo, on the other hand, struggled slightly in his new suit, a gift from Tour Guide Milah. He thought to himself that the girls'' poise must have been taught at the tower, their elegance and grace evident with every step.


    Most shops and stores were closed, as it was close to 1 a.m, and the night was deep. The once-frequent trains in the sky had become scarce, their purple glow dimming as if they, too, were winding down for the night.


    The city''s activity was slowing, and Leonardo couldn''t help but ask, "How do most of the things here float?"


    "Rasvian energy," Anna responded flatly, used to Leonardo''s myriad questions. She seemed to be warming up to him, though it wasn''t immediately obvious.


    "Rasvian energy is everything; even we are made of fundamental elements of the energy," Elara interjected passionately, her eyes shining with fervor.


    Leonardo gazed at the city''s dimming lights, realizing he was truly in a new world, vastly different from the small one he was used to. It was an expansive, ever-growing universe. He frowned.


    He missed Ronald dearly, thinking of him almost every second. He''d find him someday, but for now, he had a new mission as a Tour Guide Practical Officer, a role specifically created for him by Milah.


    His current task was to guide these two girls on their adventure, possibly his only way home.


    As his thoughts raced, he noticed a large chunk of the town suspended in the sky. Even at this late hour, it shone brightly, contrasting with the darkened streets below. Trains of various colors¡ªgreen, red, blue, yellow¡ªmoved through the sky, their lights painting the night with vibrant hues.


    "Why is that part still bright?" he asked, pointing to the floating town.


    "Oh, the District is run by the Sage, which is why it remains illuminated," Anna explained.


    "Sage..." Leonardo drew out the word, realizing just how diverse and complex this world was. He couldn''t wait to meet and interact with its inhabitants.


    He may know things, he will get¡ª


    "Oh, don''t think too much about the Sage or¡ª" Anna started, but before she could finish, a powerful shock ran through Leonardo''s body. It felt as if lightning had struck him.


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    He collapsed, his body convulsing as it tried to adapt to the sudden jolt.


    "And that''s why," Anna said with a laugh, "you''re strong. Looks like it wasn''t that powerful, so you weren''t planning any harm towards him."


    "Anna!" Elara shouted.


    "What? He''s not going to die," Anna sighed. "We''re just going to be an hour late," she added, giggling.


    [Adaptive evolution taking effect]


    [Minimal resistance to mind control / and shock]. [No more addition to this effect]


    Leonardo''s body, aided by his resistance, began to recover.


    "Oh, you''re stronger than you look," Anna said, genuinely surprised.


    Shaking his head, Leonardo asked, "Ah, what was that?" He placed his palm on his forehead, trying to steady himself.


    "That''s amazing," Elara said, watching as his suit regenerated, wrapping around his body in folds.


    "Don''t think of the Sage anymore. His control over Rasvian energy is that powerful," Elara said sorrowfully.


    Anna continued, "Anyone in the city or the countless ''stars'' you call them, who harbors ill will against him will receive a shock or worse, death."


    Leonardo was stunned. This world¡ªno, this museum¡ªwas not to be trifled with. "Thinking ill of someone could result in death!" he thought, sweat dripping from his temple.


    Across the road, people started giggling. "Don''t think of the Sage anymore!" someone shouted.


    Laughter could be heard as they walked past. The number of cars on the road decreased, the stoplights still functioning.


    Suddenly, a purple light passed by them, shining brightly.


    "Ah, that''s its last trip to the other Districts," Anna said, looking upward.


    "What?" Leonardo asked.


    "All the District experience day and night differently," she explained.


    [Liturgy of the Hours]


    "How is that possible?" he asked, shocked by the response.


    "Ask the Sages," she replied flatly.


    "Uh, I''d rather not," he said dryly, prompting both Anna and Elara to burst out laughing.


    Despite the considerable distance, the tower was only a 30-minute walk away. Anna pulled out her phone from her back pocket, and Leonardo eyed it curiously.


    "I just realized, the Era of Insurgence was actually a romance... yuck," she said to Elara.


    "Told you so! Why''d you think Elliot wanted to capture the kingdom? Not because of his burning fury and rage," Elara said dramatically, then continued, "He just really liked Angelica. I really didn''t see any similarities, though."


    "Ha! Elliot and Ruby would have undoubtedly worked. I mean, they came from the same kingdom, and she saved him¡ª" Anna paused, "seven... times?"


    "Seven."


    "Right."


    "I''ll look for any more Eras that focus on action."


    Anna noticed Leonardo''s gaze. "You''ve never seen a phone?"


    "No," he replied flatly.


    Her expression portrayed disbelief and shock of the highest order. She leaned back, fumbling for a stable position.


    "Well, my friend, you''ve come to the right place," she said with absolute confidence. She breathed deeply, preparing to explain.


    Elara sighed, "A phone is a small, handheld device that allows people to communicate with each other over long distances. I use it to talk to my friends in different Districts."


    Leonardo listened intently, each word sending waves of confusion and astonishment through him. "i have no idea what district means, i''m not going to ask her"


    the text remains silent.


    Anna continued, "Imagine a tiny box that can send and receive voices through invisible waves in the air¡ªnot using Rasvian energy, but like a magical tool. It has buttons or a smooth surface you can touch to dial numbers and navigate menus. When you speak into it, your voice is converted into signals that travel through wires or the air to reach the person you''re calling, no matter how far away they are."


    "No matter how far," Leonardo mused, realizing how revolutionary this device was compared to letters or town criers. He beamed at the newfound communication method.


    "Modern phones, called smartphones, can also do many other things, like sending written messages, capturing photos¡ª"


    "Capturing photos?" he asked.


    "Yeah, let me show you," Anna said, pulling up the camera app and taking a picture of the tower as they reached the skyway hub. Another train, this one yellow, appeared to replace the one that left.


    Its magnificence was noticeable from below, the tower rising until clouds obscured its top.


    "It''s time to enter the [Right Star]," she said, They began by going to the counter and paying the amount of draws needed [75 each person].

 Its all still called Ghent

    The train''s interior was a blend of classic design and Rasvian machinery. Seventy-six metal-clad cabins gleamed, their surfaces catching the soft, hidden lighting. It wasn''t just sleek¡ªit was almost otherworldly.


    Leonardo couldn''t stop staring. The seats looked like they''d been designed by some genius who''d never met an uncomfortable chair. Touchscreens winked from the armrests, panoramic windows stretched out like living paintings, and the lighting seemed to breathe with the passengers.


    "This is insane!" he burst out, pressing his face against the window. "I want to ride this train everywhere!"


    Anna rolled her eyes, already buried in her phone. "Great. Another detour."


    Elara chuckled. "Some people build homes along these routes. Entire lives exist between these tracks."


    The train launched forward like something between a rocket and a dream. Outside, the world became a watercolor¡ªtrees smeared into green, buildings blurred into sharp lines of light. A yellow streak trailed behind them, cutting through the night like a cosmic paintbrush.


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    "We''re heading to a mansion," the intercom announced. Its voice was calm. Too calm, considering they were moving at impossible speeds.


    "Wait," Leonardo said, turning to Elara. "How big is this city?"


    "Ghent?" Elara''s smile was mysterious. "Big enough to have a life of its own."


    The train slowed¡ªif "slowed" could describe something moving from impossible to merely miraculous. They emerged into a clearing surrounded by rolling hills, a lake glimmering like polished silver beneath a mountain''s shadow.


    Leonardo practically tumbled out first, his excitement infectious. "Are there dragons here?" he shouted.


    Anna winced. "Indoor voice, please."


    "Yes, why?" Elara responded, her tone patient.


    "Uncle Richard might have one," Anna added, then quickly corrected, "Well, not really."


    The mansion looked like it had walked straight out of a history book¡ªornate, proud, with a gate that seemed to whisper stories of past centuries. A fountain featuring a cherub stood guard, water dancing from its mouth.


    "Uncle really does love his antiques," Elara murmured.


    Anna knocked. The door creaked open.


    And then¡ªa crossbow bolt sliced the air.


    Leonardo moved faster than thought, catching the arrow inches from his face. A slight graze, a flash of reflexes that spoke of something more than ordinary.


    "Anna? Elara?" A voice called. A figure thundered down the spiral staircase.


    Leonardo, all five-foot-one of him, grabbed the man¡ªRichard¡ªwith a fury that seemed to grow from something deeper than size.


    "What," he demanded, "was that for?"

 So, Mr. Butler, sir,

    The mansion stood as a monolith of medieval architecture, its imposing structure a testament to an era where grandeur and fortitude were paramount.


    The edifice, tall and wide, sprawled across the landscape with an almost regal disdain for the passage of time. It rose three stories high, including an expansive attic that promised hidden secrets and forgotten memories.


    The strong columns, reminiscent of ancient Roman pillars, bore the mansion''s weight effortlessly. The exterior walls were clad in rich, weathered brown stone, giving the entire structure a rugged yet stately appearance.


    The roof, also brown but darker from age and weathering, crowned the mansion like a knight''s helm.


    Inside, the mansion was a living museum, filled with various vintage works that seemed to transport its visitors hundreds of years into the past.


    The parlor was a grand hall, illuminated by opulent chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. These chandeliers, adorned with crystals, cast a warm, orange glow, bathing the room in a cozy yet luxurious light.


    The floor was covered in plush, intricate carpets that muffled the sound of footsteps. The walls were lined with tapestries and paintings, each depicting scenes of historical significance or portraits of ancestors who once roamed these halls.


    The furniture in the parlor was nothing short of exquisite. Antique armchairs with delicately carved wooden frames and upholstered in rich, brocade fabrics were arranged strategically around the room.


    A grand fireplace dominated one wall, its mantel adorned with ornate candlesticks and an intricately designed clock that ticked softly, adding to the room''s ambiance. Above the fireplace hung a large, imposing portrait of a stern-looking man in medieval attire, his piercing eyes seeming to follow visitors as they moved about the room.


    As they moved through the parlor, Leonardo couldn''t help but run his fingers along the surface of an elegant couch, feeling the soft, expensive fabric.


    Though he hadn''t sat on it, the couch exuded an aura of opulence, a testament to the wealth that this house represented.


    The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and old books, a comforting aroma that spoke of long winters spent by the fire and generations of accumulated wisdom.


    Uncle Richard led them through numerous guest rooms, each more lavish than the last, until they encountered the butler. "Ah, Geoffrey," Uncle Richard almost exclaimed, a rare note of warmth in his voice as he hurried towards the elderly man. Geoffrey, the butler, wore the traditional uniform of his station.


    Unlike Leonardo, who was dressed similarly without the coat/vest, Geoffrey''s coat was a masterpiece of tailoring, split at the back for ease of movement, and perfectly fitted to his slender frame.


    Despite his advanced age, evident in the fine lines on his face and the silver in his hair, Geoffrey moved with the grace and precision of a much younger man. His gloves, white and impeccably crafted, were a symbol of his dedication to his duties.


    "Would you be kind enough to patch the young man''s face?" Uncle Richard asked, gesturing to Leonardo, whose brown skin was marred by a fresh cut.


    Blood trickled slowly from the wound, each wipe only aggravating it further.


    Since the incident, Elara had been incessantly concerned about Leonardo''s well-being. "Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice tinged with worry. Her hands roamed over him, checking for injuries. Anna, though less demonstrative, still showed her concern. "Uncle Richard, what was that for?" she demanded, increasing her pace to keep up with him.


    "Ah, Elara, I didn''t notice you there," he replied flatly before a flicker of surprise crossed his features. "Elara? Don''t tell me Anna is here too?"


    "She is," Elara pointed back to Anna, who was examining a painting of Uncle Richard''s great-grandfather. The bond between the Mortimers and Elara''s family spanned generations, built on trust and trade within the tower. However, the Mortimers had left the tower seeking peace, away from the constant ranting of the sages.


    "Uncle Richard," Anna said, her gaze fixed on the painting. It depicted a man in his mid-30s, well-built, holding his child while his wife lay beside him. They wore late medieval attire. The man''s outfit resembled Bulgarian fashion with a gold-embroidered outer robe, a red sash, and a black cape with gold trim. His wife''s gown was a cream-colored, floor-length silhouette with intricate embroidery, featuring dropped sleeves for an ethereal look. Their child''s attire blended the colors of the parents'' garments, symbolizing a surreal balance in the trio.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Finally pulling her eyes from the detailed painting, Anna asked coldly, "What happened to the Mortimers? How did one of the noble families in the tower get reduced to a minor estate in the far east? What pure rubbish."


    "Ah, well, as they say," Uncle Richard''s voice was dry, "a story has to end." He sighed, turning to continue walking with Elara.


    [Present]


    "Alright, sir, follow me," Geoffrey said to Leonardo, leading him to a room brimming with medicinal items and herbs. The scent of dried leaves and fresh herbs permeated the air, creating an almost intoxicating atmosphere. The room was lined with shelves, each filled with jars and bottles of various shapes and sizes. Herbs hung from the ceiling, drying in the warm air. A large, wooden table in the center of the room was covered with an array of medical instruments, from polished steel scalpels to ceramic bowls filled with various concoctions.


    As Geoffrey worked to stop the minor bleeding with some medicinal herbs, Leonardo tried to make conversation. "So, Mr. Butler, sir," he began.


    "You must be?" Geoffrey inquired, his hands deftly applying a poultice.


    "Tour guide practical officer, Leonardo, sir," he responded in a Boy Scout tone.


    "Tour guide? You seem incredibly young and¡­" Geoffrey gestured at his height, though he didn''t question it further, continuing to say, "That''s a mouthful, isn''t it, your name and all?" Geoffrey remarked, a slight smile playing on his lips as he finished with the herbs and moved to retrieve a bandage.


    "I mean," Leonardo pondered for a bit, "he is right it is a mouthful," he then sighed, "What do you know of tour guides?" he asked.


    Ever since he arrived, he hadn''t really asked Elara or Anna about the importance of tour guides, though they were always placed in high regard.


    "Nothing really," Geoffrey said flatly. "Tour guides are as mysterious as things come, even the names are hard to figure out." He continued patching Leonardo up.


    "Well, that''s that," Geoffrey said as he finished patching the bandage and shooed Leonardo away. "Thank you," Leonardo managed to mutter before being ushered out of the room.


    He walked through the hallway, not knowing where the girls were, but he heard a faint voice that reminded him of Anna. Walking past the numerous guest rooms he had once traversed, he reached the parlor with the chandelier above everything. He saw Elara and Anna talking to Richard about something, and as he walked closer, he eventually heard their conversation.


    "Well, Leonardo is a tour guide. He should be able to help us," Elara said in an embarrassed tone.


    "He couldn''t catch a bow shot at him, and he''s¡­" Richard gestured at Leonardo''s size, holding his face in disbelief.


    "I could help you find a better guide?" Uncle Richard sighed, his voice carrying the weight of years spent in the comfort of the known. "You already have everything you could ever need in the tower. Yet you could not ask your father for a guide?"


    Anna''s eyes sparked with a determination that belied her youthful appearance. "Uncle, Anna and I have spent our entire lives within those walls. I don''t think we could have found a better guide and the rules of the quest I heard from my father do not allow it."


    Richard''s brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and concern etching lines on his face. "You''re not a baby¡ª"


    "I technically am, Uncle," she interrupted, her voice steady and resolute.


    Richard''s eyes narrowed. He was acutely aware of the tradition¡ªthe once-in-every-500-years quest bestowed by a sage he for some reason tried to forget, as if blocking it using his subconscious. This time, Sage Rolhim had decreed that the quest was one of exploration, a quest only the heirs of the individual families can participate in.


    His tone was tinged with a subtle resignation. The Mortimers had left the tower ostensibly in search of peace, a convenient cover for their true reasons. Richard''s own desire to shield Anna from the harsh realities of their departure was palpable. He couldn''t reveal the truth: that the family had distanced themselves to avoid the ridicule and pressure associated with the sage''s quest. It was a strategic retreat masked as a quest for tranquility.


    Anna, though sometimes acting with a childish zeal, was perceptive. She knew when information could be valuable, and she was not easily deterred.


    Suddenly, the train''s announcement echoed, signaling readiness to board. The sun was rising, the moon already fading. Most people were already starting to board.


    "Well, Uncle, we''ll have to go now," Elara said, bowing to him as a sign of departure.


    "My blessings upon you," Richard said solemnly.


    They began leaving the mansion, Leonardo following behind.


    "Oh, you''re here," Anna said, noticing him.


    "I''m sorry for Uncle Richard," Elara said, looking over at Leonardo''s face.


    "It''s alright; the butler banged it well."


    "Is he your actual uncle?" Leonardo asked them. The train was in sight; they had spent a full hour there, most of it patching Leonardo''s wounds.


    "No, a distant one," Elara said.


    "what do you mean?" Leonardo replied.


    "You remember the painting with the man and his family?" Elara asked as the train announced another sound.


    "Yeah?" Leonardo said.


    "The woman was from our family. Think of it as a trade," Anna butted in.


    [Adaptive Evolution Taking Effect]


    "You guys trade peopl-?" he said in a tone of remorse, looking at the floating text rising,


    "Leave that for another time. Let''s go to the tower now," Elara said. The train was nothing but a few steps away.


    [Enhanced perception (minimal)]


    Leonardo was able to see the explosion happen a second early.


    Not enough time to prevent it, but enough to brace for impact. The world seemed to slow down as he processed the scene.


    Shards of glass and debris flew through the air in a deadly ballet, reflecting the rising sun''s light. He grabbed Elara and Anna, pulling them to the ground as the shockwave hit.

 The agony was immense

    Leonardo managed to pull both Elara and Anna down just before the explosion debris could hit them.


    The once serene hill had transformed into a hellish landscape, with the sun rising and its light reflecting off the train''s yellow color.


    Chaos reigned as most people failed to enter the train in time, while those who did were not necessarily safe.


    "What''s happening?!" Anna screamed, her voice barely cutting through the cacophony. Elara stayed frozen in shock, managing only to mutter, "The people..." The flames had already scorched their clothes.


    Elara''s floral dress was now just a charred rag, and Leonardo''s own attire, though imbued with some healing properties, couldn''t withstand the intensity of the flames.


    Elara''s thoughts spiraled.


    What was she even doing here? Her quest hadn''t even begun, and already they were beset with problems: the detour, and now the unexpected explosion of [Right Star]. She screamed alongside everyone else as chaos erupted around them.


    Screams filled the air, the train''s 76 cabs a scene of devastation. Hundreds had entered; few survived. Leonardo''s mind raced with possibilities.


    Hearing cries from inside the train, he dashed forward without a second thought, flames licking at his body.


    [Adaptive Evolution taking effect]


    His skin adapted as he spent more time in the inferno, forming new layers. He reached the source of the screams, only to find the charred corpses of two school students. His body stiffened, his brown skin reddened by the flames.


    [Flame Resistance minimal]


    The agony was immense, not just from the burning but from the sight of the lifeless bodies. Tears welled in his eyes but evaporated in the heat. Suddenly, a voice pierced through the chaos.


    "Get down, everyone!!" a male voice screamed.


    From the untouched lake near the explosion site, a semi-huge wave rose and crashed over the burning wreckage, quenching the flames. Leonardo stood there, stunned, the water evaporating off his seared skin.


    "Death," he said mildly; this wasn''t how he had imagined his journey. He was supposed to be on an incredible adventure, but everything was going haywire.


    The person who had doused the fire was Marquis de Lorraine. Like Elara and Anna, he hailed from the tower and had been given the quest of exploration.


    [Story Skills: Jack of trades, Stage 4]


    [Attachment Skill: Elemental Manipulation]


    [Unwritten Skill: Priest]


    [Title Skill: N/A]


    [Rasvian Control: Rank: Adept]


    Marquis moved swiftly to aid those in need, his blue hair shimmering as he directed the remaining water to extinguish the last of the flames. His presence was commanding, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.


    His outfit consisted of a dark gray hoodie with a front zipper, unzipped, featuring bold lettering across the chest, a black t-shirt underneath, and a pair of loose-fitting cargo pants in a similar dark shade.


    "It''s similar to Elara and Anna''s dressing," Leonardo muttered, noticing the practical yet stylish attire. Marquis''s green eyes shone with determination as he tended to the survivors with precision and calmness.


    Despite the devastation, there was a glimmer of resilience in the air.


    Marquis''s manipulation of the water had turned the tide, and his composed demeanor reassured the panicked survivors.


    Leonardo walked out of the formerly magnificent train, seeing how this boy, seemingly of his own age, had come out of nowhere and resolved everything while he stood motionless amidst the destruction.


    Marquis''s voice echoed, "Does anyone have an attachment skill similar to healing?!"


    Then suddenly, someone raised their hand. "I¡ªI know minor healing spells. I''ll need a few medicinal bottles though."


    [Story Skill: Doctor, Stage 2]


    [Attachment Skill: Medicine]


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    As Leonardo looked closer, he saw it was a woman. She moved around, healing people with her attachment skill with the help of potions, which only healed slight wounds but was still better than nothing.


    Leonardo then paused, pondering if everyone had skills. What were Elara and Anna''s skills? He put his palm on his face, feeling a wave of realization.


    How dumb could he have been? If only they could''ve gone to the tower instead of the mansion, everything would have been better planned.


    He began walking towards the place where he had left Elara and Anna, seeing them in the distance, apparently having fainted.


    He took a step, then another, the world becoming dizzy. His mind began to spin, and Marquis noticed Leonardo''s aimless walk as he almost fell.


    "Hey? Are you alright?" Marquis screamed.


    "Yeah, I''m¡ª" Leonardo tried to reply but fell to the ground, the flames having taken their toll on his body.


    The searing pain, the exhaustion, and the emotional strain overwhelmed him. Marquis rushed over, his blue hair shimmering under the morning sun as he knelt beside Leonardo.


    "Stay with me," Marquis said, his voice firm yet gentle.


    He placed his hands over Leonardo''s burns, channeling a soothing energy through his elemental manipulation. The coolness of the water mixed with a healing aura, providing some relief.


    Leonardo''s vision blurred, a darkness creeping in from the edges of his sight.


    Through the haze, he could still make out the determined look in Marquis''s brown eyes, a steady gaze that contrasted sharply with the chaos surrounding them.


    The scene was far from the grand adventure Leonardo had envisioned. Instead of sweeping landscapes and heroic quests, he was faced with the harsh reality of destruction and peril.


    Yet, amid the devastation, a strange sense of camaraderie and purpose began to form in his mind.


    As his consciousness faded, he clung to the thought of Marquis¡ªa figure of resolve and leadership, someone he might follow through this tumultuous journey.


    The world faded to black. The sounds of the crumbling train and panicked cries receded, replaced by the muffled tones of a conversation.


    "Oh damn, he''s down," Marquis Alderidge muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and resignation.


    He turned to the doctor, who was working diligently to tend to the injured. "Miss, could you come here for a bit?" he called out, gesturing towards Leonardo''s prone form.


    The doctor, a middle-aged woman with an air of practiced calm, approached Leonardo''s body.


    Her healing potions, had managed to stabilize many, but Leonardo''s condition was far more severe. Marquis glanced briefly at Elara and Anna, who lay unconscious, their dresses scorched and torn. He looked at Leonardo with a detached expression.


    "Is this who you picked as your guide?" he asked, his tone flat and dismissive. "They''ll be dead before they see the first wonder," he added with a sigh.


    "Seems the ''de Meaux'' won''t last long," Marquis continued, his voice tinged with disdain. With a final, scornful look at the fallen trio, he began walking towards the distant Mortimers mansion.


    The sun was rising, casting a soft glow on the horizon, contrasting starkly with the previous night''s devastation.


    He gestured in the air, and a mysterious figure materialized before him. The cloaked figure, draped in dark green robes, seemed almost to merge with the shadows. This figure, a guide of the 17 wonders, was a mysterious presence in the unfolding drama.


    "The quest given by the sage is an elimination quest," Marquis said, his voice carrying a note of grim determination.


    "Most families will be eliminated swiftly. In the honor of the House of Lorraine, I will lead ahead of this."


    The cloaked figure nodded in acknowledgment but then abruptly halted. "Take the Meaux daughters and their guide," Marquis ordered.


    "Yes, Seigneur," the cloaked figure replied, the title dripping with formal respect.


    Marquis''s face hardened at the address. "Don''t call me that," he said flatly, his irritation clear. He watched as the cloaked figure moved toward Elara and Anna. With a roughness that suggested little regard for their well-being, the figure lifted them up, carrying them with an almost mechanical precision.


    Leonardo, whose body was still convulsing slightly from the residual effects of the flames, was more difficult to handle.


    The doctor had managed to stabilize him somewhat, but his condition remained precarious.


    The cloaked figure approached Leonardo, lifting him with effort. The sight of his still-trembling body contrasted sharply with the figure''s calm demeanor.


    Marquis had his hand in his hoodie, a subtle gesture of discomfort or contemplation as he observed the scene.


    "What''s wrong with that one?" Marquis inquired, gesturing toward Leonardo with a flick of his hand. His curiosity was tinged with a hint of annoyance.


    "I have no clue, Seigneur," the cloaked figure responded dryly, his tone reflecting a lack of empathy.


    Marquis sighed deeply. "Ah, let''s just go to Uncle Richard," he said with a tone of finality.


    Outside the Mortimers mansion, Uncle Richard had been a silent observer of the unfolding chaos.


    His eyes followed the scene with a mix of resignation and concern. As Marquis and the cloaked figure approached, the elderly man''s face displayed an expression of embarrassed discomfort.


    "Ah, Marquis," Richard said, his voice carrying a tone of strained familiarity.


    "Uncle," Marquis responded, his tone flat and devoid of warmth.


    Richard''s attempt to address him further was cut off abruptly. "You''re a sorry old man," Marquis said, his voice cold as he stared him down. Marquis, standing at 5''11", was slightly taller than Elara, who was a bit shorter. His imposing presence seemed to dwarf Richard''s frail figure.


    "Get inside," Marquis continued, his command sharp and unyielding. There was no room for argument in his tone, and Richard, though clearly uncomfortable, nodded and turned towards the mansion. Marquis and his entourage followed, the injured trio carried along as they made their way inside.


    Inside the mansion, the contrast between the opulent surroundings and the grim reality outside was stark.


    The house, once a symbol of the Mortimers'' grandeur, now felt like a mausoleum, reflecting the weight of their troubles. Marquis, with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, watched as the cloaked figure carried Elara, Anna, and Leonardo inside.


    The sense of urgency and foreboding that accompanied them seemed to hang in the air, as if the mansion itself were holding its breath.

 17 wonders

    "Geoffrey," Richard called out, scrambling to the room where his butlers once worked. "Give me a moment, please," he begged Marquis, his voice edged with desperation.


    "Just get this over with," Marquis scoffed, turning to the hooded figure. "Drop them on the couches," he commanded, gesturing to the furniture.


    "Softly," he added, remembering how roughly the figure had handled them earlier.


    "Yes," the cloaked figure replied, respect evident in his tone. Marquis walked over to the couch, the chandelier''s light fading as the sun fully rose.


    Geoffrey entered the parlor, accompanied by Richard.


    "Geoffrey, could you aid those kids?" Richard asked, pointing towards Elara, Anna, and Leonardo.


    Richard sat down heavily on the couch in front of Marquis, while the cloaked figure stood silently beside him.


    Marquis''s expression was stern and unwavering. "Why didn''t you do anything?" he asked flatly.


    "Well, I tried¡ª" Richard began.


    "You didn''t. You watched them burn," Marquis interrupted, his voice filled with sorrow. "You had enough treatments."


    "I didn''t," Richard protested weakly.


    "You did," Marquis said, his sorrow giving way to rising anger. "You''re a sorry old man, always thinking of yourself.


    It''s funny how we''re all related in some way or another," he sighed, face-palming. "We share the same blood, no matter how small."


    Richard listened to Marquis''s words, feeling a deep sense of shame. Here was a young man, barely old enough to be his son, lecturing him.


    Maybe he really was a sorry old man. He remembered when it happened. He had been following the Meaux daughters and Leonardo, not closely, but as an escort. He saw how close they were to the explosion, the debris rising and falling, the sudden yells and cries.


    He saw how a boy came and tried to save everyone, though not completely. Richard looked at Marquis, his gaze lowering.


    "I, um, I have medicine," he said flatly.


    "Good," Marquis replied.


    Meanwhile, Geoffrey was diligently treating the wounds. He used herbs to cover the flame burns, applying salves with a practiced hand.


    Leonardo, thanks to his minimal flame resistance, was in better shape than Elara and Anna, though his condition was still dire. Elara''s floral dress was burned at the feet and sides, the fabric slowly disintegrating.


    Richard watched as Geoffrey worked, his hands steady and sure. Despite the chaos and pain, there was a methodical calm to his movements. Geoffrey''s treatments were thorough, and Leonardo''s shaking began to subside.


    The herbs provided some relief, and the burns were starting to heal. Elara and Anna lay on the couch, their breaths shallow but steady.


    The worst of the burns were being treated, and though their clothing was scorched, their lives were not in immediate danger.


    Richard''s heart ached with guilt and regret. He had failed them, but now, under Marquis''s stern gaze.


    Marquis''s brown eyes remained fixed on Richard, the disappointment clear. "You need to do better," he said quietly. "The Mortimers were once great, now just an estate in the east." Richard''s heart sank.


    Marquis''s words echoed the painful truth he had been avoiding. He was reminded of Anna''s piercing words, so similar to Marquis''s: ["What happened to the Mortimers? How did one of the noble families in the tower get reduced to a minor estate in the far east? What pure rubbish."] The very words rang in his ears, gnawing at his conscience. What were they teaching the new generation of heirs in the tower? He continued thinking, feeling the weight of his family''s fallen status.


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    Richard nodded, the gravity of Marquis''s words settling heavily on his shoulders. He didn''t know if he had a second chance to make things right, but an opportunity lay before him, and he wouldn''t waste it.


    The parlor, once a place of elegance and comfort, was now a scene of quiet urgency. The chandelier, a grand relic of better days, flickered uncertainly. Its once-brilliant crystals, now dulled by time and neglect, cast fractured beams of light that danced erratically across the room as the sun''s rays began to seep in.


    The room''s rich tapestries, depicting scenes of Mortimer grandeur, seemed to sag under the weight of the present crisis. Heavy velvet curtains framed the tall windows, their deep burgundy hue absorbing the first light of dawn.


    The intricate woodwork of the furniture, a testament to the family''s former wealth and status, now seemed almost somber, as if mourning the loss of their splendor.


    The marble fireplace, once the centerpiece of many gatherings, stood cold and empty, a stark contrast to the warmth and life it once provided.


    Geoffrey worked with methodical precision, his hands steady as he tended to the wounds of Elara, Anna, and Leonardo.


    The scent of healing herbs mingled with the lingering odor of smoke and ash, creating a dissonant mix that permeated the air. Geoffrey''s treatments were thorough, and as the herbs began to take effect, Leonardo''s shaking subsided, his breathing becoming more even. The burns, though severe, were starting to heal under Geoffrey''s careful ministrations.


    Elara and Anna lay on the couch, their breaths shallow but steady. Their dresses, once vibrant and full of life, were now charred and tattered, remnants of their former selves. Elara''s floral dress, burned at the feet and sides, still held traces of its original beauty, a stark reminder of the innocence and adventure that had led them here.


    Richard watched, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He had failed them.


    Marquis, with his hands still in his hoodie pockets, looked out the window. The rising sun cast a golden glow over the estate grounds, highlighting the contrast between the decay within and the promise of a new day outside.


    The morning light touched the edges of the room, illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air, creating a surreal blend of hope and despair. The cloaked figure did not leave more than 5 feet of distance from Marquis.


    "How did the train explode?" Marquis asked the cloaked figure while looking out the window. Outside, the chaos was slowly giving way to order as people began organizing themselves.


    It was a grim scene¡ªfamilies entered the train and yet the survivors were sons and daughters randomly placed.


    Marquis pondered the possibility that if he had''nt been practicing his control over Rasvian energy in the nearby lake to better utilize his attachment skill [Element Manipulation], he himself might be the one being mourned at this moment.


    "I have no idea," the cloaked figure replied. This was supposed to be an elimination quest, not one requiring competitors to destroy each other.


    Why would someone destroy the train? He sighed, his thoughts swirling with the weight of responsibility suddenly thrust upon him by his father, and not just him but all the other kids as well.


    If they did not reach the 17 Wonders and bring back a piece of value as proof, they would be expelled from the tower by the sage who issued the quest. "If only Sage Rolhim had given a more practical quest," he said dryly, then continued with rising frustration, "Who gives a bunch of teenagers a quest to traverse the 17 Wonders?!"


    The 17 Wonders, excluding the tower which would make it 18, were geographical cities of immense power. The title of "Wonder" was bestowed upon cities that couldn''t be easily controlled by the sages of that realm.


    The tower, once a full Wonder, no longer fulfilled its rank as it had become one of the most controlled cities in the realm.


    Marquis''s gaze shifted from the window to the distant horizon, where the rising sun cast long shadows over the devastated landscape.


    The train, once a symbol of their journey, was now a twisted wreck, its bright yellow paint charred and blackened. The explosion had turned a serene morning into a scene of chaos and sorrow, that even the wave he used to help calm the chaos was ultimately useless in the grand scheme of things.


    The tower had been created by the sages to stop the endless conflicts among the minor families at the bottom.


    A hierarchical order, resembling a pyramid, had been established thanks to the cunning of the sages. This structure was meant to bring stability and control, yet it also bred resentment and competition among the families vying for power.


    Marquis''s thoughts drifted back to the task at hand.


    The 17 Wonders were not just geographical marvels; they were testaments to the power and resilience of their inhabitants. Each Wonder was a city with its own unique challenges and mysteries, resistant to the control of the sages.


    To retrieve something valuable from each Wonder was a task that required not just strength and skill, but also wisdom and cunning.


    Marquis turned his attention back to the cloaked figure. "We need to be prepared for anything," he said firmly. "This quest is not just a test of our abilities but of our will to survive and succeed."


    He paused, frustration evident in his eyes. "This is a test of our abilities," he repeated, his voice tinged with bitterness. "That bastard sage," he muttered, knowing he couldn''t voice his true thoughts any further.


    The cloaked figure nodded in agreement, a silent acknowledgment that he understood the gravity of the situation and shared Marquis''s resentment toward the sage.

 Marquis de Lorraine

    Marquis turned away from the window, his gaze unwavering as he approached the still forms of Anna, Elara, and Leonardo.


    Each step he took was measured, the soft creak of the wooden floor underfoot the only sound in the quiet room. He observed Geoffrey''s precise and methodical care as the healer worked diligently to address the burns that marred the trio''s skin.


    The room, once a sanctuary of elegance, now bore the stark scars of the recent devastation. Flickering light from the ornate chandelier cast dancing shadows on the walls, accentuating the severity of the scene.


    The new train''s arrival was imminent, its approach marked by the steady hum of machinery and the distant murmur of anticipation from those gathered outside.


    The cloaked figure, a shadowy presence, stood silently by the doorway, offering a nod of acknowledgment.


    "The new train should be here anytime soon," the cloaked figure said softly, the weight of the words hanging in the air.


    "Alright then," Marquis responded curtly. "Uncle, I''m going to take care of a few things before I leave," he said, his voice carrying a note of finality.


    He gestured towards the door with practiced ease, the sunlight catching his blue hair and causing it to shimmer like a beacon. The radiant morning light filtered through the tall, arched windows, casting a warm glow over the damaged furniture and the scattered remnants of the previous night''s chaos.


    Richard, looking both weary and resolute, nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes," he replied, his eyes reflecting the concern of someone tasked with managing the aftermath.


    "Thank Geoffrey for me," Marquis said flatly, his gaze lingering on the butler before he turned to leave.


    As he stepped outside, the early morning sun bathed the wreckage in a golden hue. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and the distant promise of renewal.


    Marquis''s blue hair, tousled by the gentle breeze, sparkled under the sun''s rays. He walked purposefully towards the remnants of the train, his steps deliberate and steady.


    In the distance, the new train emerged, leaving a striking purple trail that cut through the sky like a vibrant ribbon.


    The train, sleek and imposing, approached with a sense of urgency. Its presence was a stark contrast to the devastation that lay scattered below.


    "If the person who destroyed the train is still here," Marquis said, his voice a low rumble, "that gives us¡ªno, you¡ªenough time to investigate. I think not?" His eyes locked onto the cloaked figure, who nodded with an air of quiet determination.


    Richard, meanwhile, sank heavily into his chair, the burden of the situation weighing on him. "Who knew a kid would make me rethink my choices," he mused aloud, his gaze fixed on Geoffrey, who continued his meticulous work. Geoffrey''s hands moved with practiced efficiency, his brow furrowed in concentration.


    "Yes, master," Geoffrey replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "The new generation kids are a bit of a hassle."


    Geoffrey''s hands were deft and skilled as he applied the final touches to their treatment.


    "I''ve finished patching them up," he said, gesturing towards the unconscious forms of Anna and Elara. "They should regain consciousness within a few hours, at most four."


    Richard''s gaze shifted to the window, where the approaching train loomed large. "Who do you think caused the explosion?" he asked, his tone laden with unease.


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    The room grew colder, the weight of the question hanging heavy in the air.


    "Possibly another heir of the families," Geoffrey speculated, his voice thoughtful. "Or perhaps a stray mystical. Their motives and actions can be unpredictable."


    "What would a mystical be doing here, causing such chaos?" Richard sighed, shaking his head in frustration. "That kid sure is strong," he said, his eyes drawn to the lake outside. The once-pristine water, shimmering under the moonlight just hours ago, was now nearly half-depleted. Marquis had used its waters to combat the raging fire, leaving behind a desolate, scarred expanse.


    "Yes, yes, he is," Geoffrey agreed, his tone acknowledging the boy''s unexpected fortitude.


    Richard''s gaze followed Marquis as he prepared for the train''s arrival.


    "If these kids don''t wake up soon, I''ll have to call another train later," he said, his frustration evident. "The trains don''t come this far unless specifically requested."


    "You will have to," Geoffrey confirmed, his voice pragmatic.


    Suddenly, Leonardo jolted awake, his body convulsing as he took in a deep, ragged breath.


    The abrupt movement startled both Richard and Geoffrey, their faces reflecting a mix of shock and relief. "Where is the blue-haired guy?" Leonardo''s voice cut through the tension, filled with urgency.


    Leonardo''s awakening brought a surge of relief to Richard and Geoffrey. His eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of the disarray.


    "Relax, boy," Richard said, his voice steady despite his evident fatigue. "You''re safe now. Marquis took care of the flames."


    Leonardo''s mind raced through the chaotic events¡ªthe searing heat, the desperate cries, and Marquis''s commanding presence.


    He turned to Richard and Geoffrey, seeking reassurance. "What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.


    Richard sighed deeply, running a hand through his graying hair, a gesture of both exasperation and exhaustion.


    "There was an explosion on the train," he began, his eyes meeting Geoffrey''s for support.


    Leonardo recalled the brief moments of heroism when he had dragged Anna and Elara to safety. "We''re not sure who or what caused it, but Marquis managed to regain control of the situation."


    Leonardo''s eyes widened with concern. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, glancing anxiously at Anna and Elara, who lay unconscious but showed signs of recovery.


    "They''re going to be fine," Geoffrey assured him, his voice calm despite the strain. "Thanks to Marquis and his quick thinking, the damage was minimized."


    Outside, Marquis and the cloaked figure continued their focused investigation. The new train, marked by its purple trail, approached with a sense of urgency.


    Leonardo examined his own condition, noting the improvement from earlier. Yet, he was haunted by vivid memories of the burnt corpses he had seen. He questioned himself repeatedly, wondering what he might have done differently. "Where is the blue-haired boy?" he asked Richard once more, his voice filled with determination.


    "Oh, he''s just about to leave actually," Richard said, gesturing towards the train as it came to a halt.


    Most of the passengers had already boarded, and Marquis and the cloaked figure were among them.


    Leonardo stepped out of the mansion, his heart pounding with urgency. "Blue hair!" he shouted. Marquis turned around, a look of confusion crossing his face.


    "Yes?" Marquis replied, his curiosity piqued by Leonardo''s sudden appearance.


    "What is your name?" Leonardo asked, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and determination.


    "Marquis. Marquis de Lorraine," Marquis said, his amber eyes reflecting a hint of intrigue. This boy had faced the flames head-on and survived injuries that would have felled most. Now, here he was, standing resiliently despite everything.


    "Marquis," Leonardo repeated, trying to grasp the significance of the name. "Let''s meet at the first wonder... properly next time."


    Marquis nodded, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Very well, but we''ll meet way before that" he said, turning his back and walking towards the open door of the train.


    "Yeah..." Leonardo muttered as the train door began to close. The train''s departure was marked by a sudden rush of energy as it rose slowly into the air, the purple trails brightening against the backdrop of the morning sky.


    "Get ready, everyone," a speaker announced. In an instant, the train was enveloped in a burst of rasvian energy, its speed increasing exponentially as it vanished from sight, leaving behind only a faint trace of its departure.


    Leonardo watched as the area was shrouded in a sudden burst of rasvian energy. The mansion and the wreckage were left behind, the train''s acceleration creating a powerful gust of wind that whipped through the landscape.


    "I''m tired," Leonardo said quietly to himself, his voice barely audible over the fading rush of the train. He began the slow walk back to the mansion, the fabric of his clothes, though regenerated, felt heavy against his skin.


    Each step was a reminder of the trials they had faced and the journey that lay ahead. The mansion, now a beacon of hope amidst the chaos, symbolized a chance for redemption and the promise of a new beginning.

 Unviewability

    As he approached the mansion, his mind wandered. Compared to a few hours ago, when he was excited for the journey, now... he stopped thinking. "I can''t wait," he murmured. The sheer number of people outside this world who saw him as mere sand in the dust was enough motivation to aim for greater heights. His thoughts shifted. "I wonder what skills Elara and Anna have," he mused, already at the gate. Pushing it open, he still felt a sense of ignorance. "Rasvian energy," he said to himself, looking at his palm.


    [This radiation is ultimately known as Rasvian energy, an omnipresent energy source that constitutes all conceivable matter, even within the museum. Rasvian can be augmented through natural training or the slaying of other entities and is the sole means of enhancing attachment and all other skills,]


    his mind raced to the explanation Tour Guide Milah had given him before the abrupt end. "unknown," he thought again. "How long will i be here, even after i''m done, i''ll still have to go to that era..." His mind raced with the unexpected load placed upon him. "I wonder how dangerous the Deplorable Era is. This is similar to training" he paused, thinking of a better word, "Anna would say a better word. ''To-tutorial,''" he tried to say.


    Already at the front door, he walked in and saw Richard sitting down on the couch. "Ah, Leonardo, I''ve called another train," Richard said, then continued, "It should be here in three hours.


    Elara and Anna should be awake by then." He turned to look at them; their breathing was evident, showing they were getting better.


    "Oh, okay," Leonardo replied, then sat on a couch opposite Richard. He stuttered for a moment, "Ahem, do you know anything about the 17 wonders?" he asked Richard, initiating a conversation that would reveal more about the world''s functionalities.


    "The 17 wonders?" Richard repeated, his confusion evident. "You don''t know of it?" He continued, surprised. "Almost everyone knows of the wonders. It''s even taught in schools and not secluded to tower kids." This only raised suspicion about Leonardo as a person.


    "You''re a tour guide," Richard said, trying to change the conversation and learn more about Leonardo. Leonardo''s gaze was unwavering, signaling he wanted an answer to his first question.


    "Uh, um," Richard said, feeling the weight of Leonardo''s determination. This was the third time he had been threatened by a child not even old enough to be his son. "The 17 wonders..." he began, searching for the right words.


    "The wonders are extraordinary places and phenomena that hold significant power and mystery within our world," Richard explained, his voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge.


    "They range from ancient structures to natural formations, each with its own unique history and abilities. Some of the most renowned wonders include Unviewability.." he pauses then rethinks his steps slowly,


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    Leonardo listened intently, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of abilities do these wonders have?" he asked, eager to learn more.


    "Each wonder possesses its own unique abilities and characteristics, considered a threat even by the sages," Richard continued. "For instance, Unviewability is a city shrouded in pure illusion.


    Most who enter lose their way instantly and remain trapped, wandering its planes. However, advanced users of Rasvian energy can traverse it more easily.


    Richard paused, sitting down heavily as the weight of his thoughts bore down on him. "The 17 wonders should be 15 instead," he muttered.


    "Those two are in a league of their own. What is the sage thinking, issuing a quest of this size to kids who aren''t yet of age? He wants to eliminate all the minor families," he thought grimly.


    "He only wants the strong in the tower, only those who can withstand the pyramid scheme played by the sage.


    A new era is rising for this realm," he sighed, the weight of the statement hanging in the air.


    Leonardo sat back, absorbing the information. "Uncle¡ª" he began, but Richard cut him off gently.


    "Richard is alright," he replied instantly, a faint smile softening his stern features.


    "Richard, I''ve heard Rasvian energy is made up of everything," Leonardo continued, his voice filled with both wonder and confusion. "There is alot to talk about ," he tried but faltered.


    Leonardo''s mind raced as he tried to comprehend the vast implications of what Richard was saying. " everything in this world, every ability, every phenomenon, is tied to Rasvian energy in some way?" he asked, his voice a mix of awe and inquiry.


    "Precisely," Richard confirmed. "Rasvian energy is the fundamental force that underpins our entire existence," he says again.


    "Fundamental force," Leonardo repeated, the words echoing in his mind. The gravity of Richard''s explanation about Rasvian energy weighed heavily on him. Suddenly, Elara and Anna began to stir, their movements slow but steady. Though they hadn''t awakened as abruptly as Leonardo, their recovery was notably faster than average.


    "My head," Anna groaned, cradling her forehead in her palm, clearly in pain. Leonardo knew it would subside before the requested train arrived.


    He walked over to them, his steps deliberate. "Hey, Elara," he said softly. Elara''s eyes widened with fear, her vulnerability starkly evident. She was a teenager thrust into a perilous quest, and her bravery was a fragile facade.


    Elara turned towards him, her voice trembling, "Where''s Marquis?" She must have glimpsed him before she collapsed.


    "He left a while ago," Leonardo replied gently. Elara looked down at the flame scars starting to heal on her arms, her expression distant.


    "How''d they leave?" Anna asked, her voice weak but curious.


    "A train came, and Richard requested another one," Leonardo explained, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.


    "Nice," Anna said flatly, her tone devoid of enthusiasm.


    The atmosphere in the room was heavy with unspoken fears. Their physical wounds were healing, but the mental scars were fresh and raw. Leonardo stood up, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders.


    "You guys should rest some more," he said, his voice firm but kind. "You need it."


    As he turned to walk towards the couch, exhaustion finally overtook him. He collapsed onto the cushions, his eyes fluttering shut almost instantly. Anna and Elara exchanged a glance, the tension easing slightly. They couldn''t help but laugh a little at Leonardo''s sudden nap, a brief moment of levity in an otherwise grim situation. Then, they too succumbed to sleep, their bodies seeking the respite they desperately needed.

 Arrival

    The train''s arrival shattered the mansion''s morning silence. Richard''s shout cut through the air like a knife, his desperation palpable. "The train is here!"


    Leonardo remained sprawled on the couch, a dead weight of exhaustion. Richard''s attempts to wake him grew increasingly frantic, each shake more aggressive than the last. Sweat beaded on Richard''s forehead¡ªthis was more than just missing a train. Something deeper, more urgent, pressed against them.


    Geoffrey moved with a calculated precision that spoke of years of service, but today something was different. His movements were sharper, more nervous. The herb room¡ªonce a sanctuary of calm¡ªnow felt like a battlefield of preparation.


    As Geoffrey crushed lavender and chamomile, the herbs released not just their aroma, but a sense of something breaking. The delicate leaves crumbled between his fingers like the last vestiges of their previous life.


    "This will work," Geoffrey muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His voice carried a tremor of doubt.


    Elara and Anna moved with a synchronized tension. Their preparedness was a thin veneer over raw nerves. Elara''s fingers traced the ruined edges of her floral dress¡ªa metaphor for something larger being torn apart.


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    "We can change later," Anna whispered, but the words hung in the air like a fragile promise.


    Leonardo finally stirred, his consciousness fighting through layers of a dream that clung to him like a second skin. "I dreamt something," he mumbled, the words catching in his throat. But the dream slipped away, leaving only a cold sensation of something unresolved.


    The train outside was more than a machine. It was a living thing, its rasvian engine humming with an almost sentient anticipation. The red trail behind it looked like a wound cutting through the landscape.


    Richard''s eyes darted constantly, searching. Not just looking, but hunting for something unseen. The perspiration on his temple wasn''t just from urgency¡ªit was fear.


    As they boarded, Leonardo caught a glimpse of a red-eyed boy and a shirtless man sliding into the train''s shadows. No one else seemed to notice. Or perhaps they chose not to.


    The landscape outside transformed¡ªnot just visually, but metaphorically. Lush forests gave way to barren plains, mirroring the internal landscapes of the travelers. Each mile carried them further from safety, closer to an unknown that pressed against them like a suffocating membrane.


    "Promise me you''ll guide us," Elara said to Leonardo. But it wasn''t a request. It was a demand wrapped in survival.


    Anna''s confidence felt like a shield they were all desperately trying to believe in.


    Leonardo looked out the window. The mansion¡ªtheir last connection to anything familiar¡ªwas now just a distant memory, a fading dream. But dreams, he knew, could be more dangerous than reality.


    The train hurtled forward. Not just moving, but escaping. From what, none of them were entirely certain.

 Guards

    As Leonardo lay slumbering, Anna and Elara remained vigilant, contemplating the impending arrival at the tower.


    Elara echoed, her mood brightening slightly. She looked around, noticing the train seemed emptier than usual.


    Normally, the train cabs would be nearly full. "They heard of the explosion in the area," Anna said, continuing, "They''re scared of what they might find there." Elara let the words sink in, realizing the possibility. "Who¡ªwhat do you think did that?" Elara asked, her curiosity piqued, her voice barely above a whisper.


    "Probably a mishap," Anna responded flatly, though she glanced down at her palms, her thoughts elsewhere.


    "My skin, Anna, it hurt," Elara said, fear creeping into her voice, replacing the fleeting hope Anna had tried to instill.


    "It''s okay, let''s get to the tower and settle this mess," Anna said, looking towards the door that divided the cabs of the train. She noticed the guards approaching, multiple even.


    "I want to see Mom," Elara said, the thought of her mother bringing her comfort. "Yeah, you will in about..." Anna paused to check her phone. "An hour," she finally said. "Really?" Elara exclaimed, her earlier facade dropping as she showed her genuine excitement to her sister.


    She was a kid trying to emulate her older sister, and Anna knew it. She tried her best to be a mature figure for her.


    "Yeah, really..." Anna''s voice slowed down as Elara''s eyes flickered and she fell asleep too. Anna gently lifted her sister''s head and placed it on the couch to avoid waking her. Leonardo''s drool was already forming.


    Anna looked at the door''s window, seeing the guards closer than ever. Not knowing their intentions, she saw an opportunity to practice her skill.


    Anna noticed the details of the guards'' attire more closely. Their dark blue tunics were sharply pressed, with light red trims accentuating the edges and buttons polished to a mirror shine.


    The insignia on their pouches varied, indicating different roles and responsibilities within their ranks. The sergeant''s uniform stood out with additional lace, gold chevrons, and epaulettes that marked his higher status. His field cap, made from a durable wool blend, had a distinctive folded design with ear flaps that could be buttoned up or down for warmth.


    Their movements were synchronized and quick, a testament to their rigorous training. The swords at their sides were sheathed in ornate scabbards, the hilts engraved with intricate patterns that spoke of both functionality and artistry.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The sergeant, Fredrick, had a commanding presence. His uniform had a distinct red shade, and his facial muscles, though strained from the relief of seeing Anna, still managed to portray a smile.


    His clean-shaven face was almost disconcerting in its contrast to the tension in his eyes.


    "Anna!" he exclaimed. Anna, now seeing him clearly and not obstructed by their movement and rash behavior¡ªthey had been pulling and pushing people about before coming here¡ªrecognized him. "Fredrick," Anna said flatly, then continued, "What are you doing here?"


    "Awe, still the same old Anna," he said in a golden retriever stereotype tone. But then, to answer the second question, as if the atmosphere turned fiery, his face distorted into one of pure seriousness, no jokes. "No, not this again," Anna said, palming her face.


    "Anna," Fredrick called out, his voice breaking through the haze of her thoughts. His tone shifted from familiar friendliness to stern professionalism.


    "Fredrick?" Anna asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and frustration. "We were dispatched by your father. He was concerned when you didn''t arrive on the first train," Fredrick explained.


    His demeanor changed as he looked around the cabin, noting the sparse number of passengers.


    "Marquis was on it with his guide. I assume that is yours?" He nodded towards Leonardo, still deeply asleep.


    "Yes, he''s our guide. And yes, he''s sleeping," Anna replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.


    Fredrick scoffed. "He should be scouting and protecting you too. Had he no idea of the explosion that recently occurred? Are you sure you want him?" His voice dripped with skepticism.


    "Enough, Fredrick," Anna snapped, waving her hand dismissively. The air seemed to thicken with tension, though it was only Fredrick who appeared to feel it.


    Fredrick Role


    Story Skill: sergeant, Stage 2 Attachment Skill: weapon identification.


    "You''ve improved," Fredrick acknowledged, struggling slightly to maintain his composure.


    [Anna''s skill wasn''t about deceiving people directly; it was about manipulating the rasvian energy around them.] "Years of practice," she said, a cold smile on her lips.


    Fredrick, undeterred, demonstrated his own prowess. Forcing her hand upwards and holding it with an insane grip, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and challenge. "This is also years of practice."


    "Let go, Fredrick," Anna demanded, her voice carrying a hint of pain. "Let me go first," he retorted, his grip tightening momentarily before releasing.


    Anna twisted her wrist, shaking off the lingering discomfort. She eyed the numerous guards behind Fredrick.


    "You''re not here only for that, are you?"


    "Ah, yes. You should already be aware of the explosion," he said, turning around. "She was on it," he said, signifying he wanted his men to laugh. Giggles and laughter were heard. "See, it''s funny," he said, noticing how Anna wasn''t smiling.


    "Anyway," his tone turned serious again, "who caused it?" he asked flatly. "I don''t know, it just caught up in flames," she replied.


    A pause was noticed. "How can a [right star] catch flames?" he asked, his view shifting to Elara sleeping. "She sure is pretty," he said, smirking.


    "Fredrick," Anna said in a tone unlike her earlier ones. Fredrick himself noticed. "It''s a joke," he said, then continued, "Anyway, I''ve heard enough from Marquis anyway." He turned to leave, muttering about how he had to go investigate the site himself. As he left the section of the train, he sighed, which Anna heard.


    Anna returned and sat down.


    "I really want to sleep now," she muttered. "Fifteen more minutes to arrival," announced the speaker. She sighed upon hearing that. "Not even enough time to sleep," she lamented.

 Guards 2

    All of them were sleeping as the train zipped past everything: rivers as vast as lakes, mountains as wide as cities [real world view], trees as tall as skyscrapers. The train moved, leaving behind only traces of its presence as if it had never been there.


    "Through the use of rasvian energy, all this is possible. Everything is composed of rasvian energy, so what else to do but attempt to harness it?" Leonardo, now awake, saw the floating text in front of him. He had been interrogating the floating text for the past five minutes.


    "I always forget about the text," he said, watching it slowly vanish as it awaited a new question. "There are 21 realms," it declared. [21 realms with 21 Gods under its jurisdiction], Leonardo read the text aloud, "21 gods." He muttered to himself and then slapped his face. "Stop!" he commanded himself, realizing the perilous path his thoughts could lead him down.


    Shivers ran down his spine. "Ehh," he said again, shaking off the thought and slapping himself once more.


    Leonardo looked around, starting to notice that his vision was somewhat keener than a few days ago.


    He could discern subtle details, though not as adeptly as someone experienced like Anna.


    "The tower," he said as the train turned and looped around. Looking out the window, he saw a tall, golden-layered tower.


    "I''m going to enter that," he muttered. He noticed the guards from earlier patrolling this section of the train.


    Fredrick wasn''t among them, though their uniforms intrigued Leonardo. He wondered why they hadn''t passed by when he first boarded the train.


    [Landing incoming], the conductor announced. As Leonardo settled back into his seat, he couldn''t help but marvel at the scenery outside.


    The train''s incredible velocity made the landscapes blur into a seamless, ever-changing tapestry.


    Rivers that seemed endless, mountains that stretched across the horizon, and trees that reached skyward like nature''s skyscrapers.


    It was all surreal, made possible by the manipulation of rasvian energy. He recalled the text explaining this power, still lingering in his mind.


    The golden tower they were approaching loomed large, its grandeur increasing with every second.


    Leonardo''s thoughts drifted to the realms and their gods. He wondered about the power and influence these deities held over their respective realms. The concept was both fascinating and terrifying.


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    He knew he had to focus on the present, but the weight of such knowledge was hard to ignore. He slapped himself again to stop thinking about it.


    "Anna," he called softly, trying not to wake Elara just yet. Anna, still groggy, looked at him.


    "What is it, Leo?" she asked, her voice tinged with sleep.


    "Do you think we''ll find any clues about the explosion at the tower?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.


    "I hope so," she replied, her tone more serious now. "We need answers, but not right now," she said.


    "We''re going to the tower to get the official start to the quest," she continued, "now that all the families'' heirs have brought their guides."


    Elara, stirred by the loud conversation between Leonardo and Anna, finally woke up. "Are we there?" she asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.


    "Almost," Anna replied, helping her sit up. "Just a few more minutes."


    The train began to decelerate, the landscape outside becoming clearer as their speed decreased.


    The anticipation in the air was palpable. Leonardo couldn''t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. What awaited them¡ªno, him¡ªat the tower was a mystery.


    As the train came to a halt, the guards stood by as everyone else in the train started leaving. "Why aren''t they leaving?" he asked Anna.


    "They''re going to investigate the destroyed train," Anna replied, yawning. Leonardo noticed their disciplined movements and meticulously maintained uniforms. Their dark blue tunics, with light red trims and polished buttons, were both functional and decorative.


    The insignia on their pouches varied, The sergeant, with his additional lace, gold chevrons, and epaulettes, stood out among them. His field cap, made from a durable wool blend, had a distinctive folded design with ear flaps.


    "Goodbye, Lady Anna," Fredrick said as the group left the train through its door. Anna turned back as the train''s door started closing, just to see Fredrick smirking a bit.


    "Are we there yet?" Elara asked again, this time referring to the tower, sighing. She stood and stretched her back.


    "Not yet, another short train ride," Anna said. As Elara heard those words, she asked, "Huh? Why didn''t we just use that one?"


    "They need to investigate the explosion. We''re already here, so it''s alright," Anna replied. She was right; the train stopped at another clearing away from the one in front of the golden tower. "Skyway Hub," Elara said, her tone different, the quest officially starting today.


    While this was happening, Leonardo was reading the glowing floating text: [Adaptive evolution taking effect]. This was his first time seeing this; unlike the three other times it appeared, he was either distracted or busy.


    "Ada-what?" he said, brushing it off as they reached the Skyway Hub. Anna turned to look at him, confused.


    "This time, I''ll be on you," Leonardo said, looking at the same man he met a few days ago yet again.


    "Welcome to the tower, or more widely known as ''the Stem,''" the man said joyfully. Leonardo already knew this and was impatiently waiting for him to direct them to the desk to pay in draws.


    Leonardo turned to Anna, desperate. "Anna, you have draws, right?" he asked.


    "Yeah, I do," she replied.


    "Good, because we''re going to need them," he said, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation.


    As they made their way to the payment desk, Leonardo couldn''t help but feel the weight of the journey ahead. His spleen shivered in both fear and anticipation. The golden tower, the mysterious explosion, and the quest that awaited them¡ªall of it was intertwined with the rasvian energy that permeated their world.

 Skyway hub

    Skyway Hub bustled with activity, an intricate network of pathways, platforms, and floating structures that gave the impression of a city suspended in mid-air. Holographic signs flickered with vibrant colors, directing passengers to their destinations.


    The air buzzed with a mixture of mechanical hums and the chatter of people from all walks of life. The atmosphere was electric, a palpable sense of excitement and wonder permeating the air.


    The conductor''s voice, authoritative yet tinged with a hint of sorrow, cut through the din.


    "You either get to ride the Right Star or an alternative when it''s busy," he said, pointing towards a sleek, futuristic train in the sky.


    The Right Star was a marvel of engineering, its metallic surface gleaming under the sunlight, and as it sped away, it left behind blue trails that seemed to paint the already blue sky. The sight was breathtaking, a testament to the incredible advancements in rasvian energy use.


    "You were supposed to ride on that one," he continued, his tone conveying a palpable sense of regret.


    He paused, then spread his arms wide. "But no matter, a lift is here to take you." His words carried a mix of disappointment and reassurance, reflecting the ever-changing nature of technology in this world.


    Most people around didn''t even flinch at this announcement. In Skyway Hub, new inventions were introduced and discarded daily, and no one knew if this "lift" would be abandoned a week later.


    The crowd, a mix of locals and visitors, moved with the practiced indifference of those accustomed to constant innovation. Their nonchalance was a stark contrast to Leonardo''s wide-eyed wonder.


    Leonardo, on the other hand, couldn''t hide his excitement. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he bounced on the balls of his feet as he and the girls made their way towards the ticket desk.


    Every day since he arrived here had been filled with new experiences¡ªfirst with cars, stoplights, time (clocks), and the awe-inspiring Right Star.


    Each new discovery was a feast for his senses, a reminder of how far he''d come from his medieval origins.


    "How does the lift look?" he asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. The idea of yet another new invention thrilled him to his core.


    His excitement was infectious, drawing amused glances from passersby.


    "I don''t know, probably a new invention," Anna replied flatly, her tone betraying no excitement. Her nonchalance was a stark contrast to Leonardo''s enthusiasm, highlighting the difference in their backgrounds.


    "It''ll probably look like an elevator," Elara added thoughtfully, drawing a comparison between the names and their functions. Her attempt to bridge the gap between Leonardo''s lack of knowledge and the modern world was evident in her patient explanation.


    "A what now?" Leonardo asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. The concept of an elevator was entirely foreign to him, another reminder of the vast technological gap he was trying to bridge.


    "A machine that takes you up and brings you down," Elara explained, trying to simplify her explanation as much as possible without delving into the mechanics. Her patience with Leonardo''s questions was admirable, a testament to her understanding nature.


    As they walked towards the gate with the rest of the crowd, the ambiance of the Skyway Hub became more apparent.


    The architecture was a stunning blend of modern design and fantastical elements, with soaring arches and intricate, almost ethereal decorations. Holographic advertisements and informational displays floated in mid-air, providing a constant stream of updates and announcements.


    The air was filled with the soft hum of machinery and the distant murmur of conversations, creating a lively yet orderly atmosphere.


    Anna''s sharp eyes caught the presence of more guards than usual patrolling the area. The guards, clad in sleek, dark blue coats, seemed tense, their eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of trouble.


    They carried sophisticated weapons [swords], and their disciplined movements suggested rigorous training. "They''re so paranoid," she thought, observing their heightened alertness.


    The guards'' presence was a stark contrast to the otherwise casual atmosphere of the hub, creating an undercurrent of tension that most people seemed to ignore.


    Elara, oblivious to the increased security, walked alongside Leonardo. For her and Anna also, this was theoretically her first time outside the tower, much like Leonardo.


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    The interior of the tower had been designed to mimic the outside world so closely that it was easy to forget they had been secluded for so long. The tower was a marvel in its own right, with its pristine corridors and rooms divided in a hierarchical pyramid structure, where the ruling families resided at the top.


    "How does the tower look from the inside?" Leonardo asked, his curiosity piqued as they waited in line. His thirst for knowledge seemed unquenchable, each answer leading to more questions.


    "Pristine at best," Elara replied, her voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. The tower''s interiors were immaculate, with polished surfaces and elegant decor that spoke of wealth and tradition.


    "Divided in a pyramid where the ruling families stay at the top," Anna added, both speaking at the exact same time.


    This division created a clear social hierarchy, with the most powerful families enjoying the best views and most luxurious accommodations. Their synchronized response hinted at a shared upbringing and understanding of their world.


    "Oh yeah, that too," Elara continued, embarrassment lacing her tone as she realized their synchrony.


    She tried to brush off her embarrassment with a small smile, a reminder of the close bond between the sisters despite their different personalities.


    "A what?" Leonardo replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. The concept of a hierarchical structure was still foreign to him, having spent his life in the medieval era, where thralls like him had no idea of what was happening beyond their immediate surroundings.


    Noticing the growing frustration on Anna''s face, Leonardo decided to drop the subject. "Never mind," he finally said, sensing it was best not to push further. His ability to read the situation and adapt showed a growing understanding of his new companions.


    As they reached the desk, Anna flatly stated, "I would like to go to the tower." Her tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of the wonder that still filled Leonardo''s voice.


    "Good morning!" the woman behind the glass divider greeted them cheerfully. The divider was made of transparent material, allowing a clear view of the bustling activity on both sides.


    Leonardo noticed it was a different woman this time. The last time he came, it was a man didn''t even greet him, only gesturing for money to be handed over. This contrast in customer service intrigued him, another small detail in this new world he was trying to understand.


    "That would be ''only'' 100 draws, but due to the lift being newly created, there is a 25% discount for the three of you," the woman behind the desk said cheerily. Anna looked at her, anger building.


    The woman''s smile seemed forced, and her cheerful demeanor couldn''t mask the sweat beading on her forehead. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the woman''s forced cheeriness.


    "You didn''t apply a discount?" Anna said, her tone sharp. Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the woman''s expression.


    Anna''s keen observation and direct approach were evident, showcasing her no-nonsense personality.


    "What?" The woman, already dripping with sweat, sighed. Her shoulders slumped slightly, revealing her exhaustion. The facade of cheerfulness crumbled under Anna''s pointed question.


    "Uh, just pay her," Elara said, sighing. She looked at Leonardo, who was trying to read the situation with furrowed brows. Elara''s attempt to diffuse the situation highlighted her role as a mediator between her sister''s bluntness and Leonardo''s confusion.


    Leonardo, reading from the text for a better understanding of the situation, butted in, "That isn''t fair. It''s the same price as last time. Why lie about a dis¡ª" he stuttered, "ahem, discount."


    Most people turned to look at him, whispering, "Is he dumb?" The murmurs grew louder, and he could feel the weight of their stares. His attempt to apply his newfound knowledge, while admirable, only served to draw unwanted attention.


    "Ah, well, you know," the woman tried to explain, her voice wavering. But suddenly, Elara brought forth her phone. "225 draws, right?" she asked, her tone firm. Elara''s intervention showcased her practical nature and her ability to take charge when needed.


    "Yes," the woman replied, relief washing over her face. Elara sent the payment through an app called Drawpall. "Now that''s settled," she said, her voice calm but authoritative. The quick resolution of the situation demonstrated Elara''s efficiency and her desire to avoid unnecessary conflict.


    "Ahem, yes, that way please," the woman gestured towards another area, where the lift was now visible as it descended slowly. Her relief at the conclusion of the transaction was evident in her hurried direction.


    "I knew it was similar to an elevator," Elara said, smirking. The lift in question was a cube shape, mostly glass but with a base made from a material unlike stone or metal.


    It was attached to the tower like a staircase and ascended gracefully. Elara''s satisfaction at being correct was clear in her expression, a small victory in understanding this new world.


    "That''s amazing," Leonardo exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder. His enthusiasm for each new discovery remained undiminished, a constant reminder of the vast differences between his old life and this new world.


    "Eh, not really," both Anna and Elara said together, their voices in perfect unison. Their shared sentiment highlighted the contrast between their familiarity with technology and Leonardo''s awe.


    "Jinx again?!" Elara laughed, and Anna joined in, their laughter light and infectious. This moment of levity showcased the sisters'' bond and their ability to find joy in small coincidences.


    Leonardo stood there, unable to understand what was going on until floating text appeared, explaining, [Said when two people inadvertently say the same thing at once.] "I think I get it," he said, looking at the text as it slowly faded away when he was done.


    The floating text, a constant companion in his journey of discovery, once again bridged the gap in his understanding.


    As they approached the lift, Leonardo''s excitement continued to build. The glass cube, hovering slightly above the ground, seemed to defy gravity.


    Its sleek design and smooth operation were a far cry from anything he had ever seen in his medieval life. He marveled at how the material, neither stone nor metal, could support their weight and move with such ease.


    "How does it work?" he whispered to Elara, his eyes never leaving the lift as it descended to their level.


    Elara smiled patiently. "It''s powered by rasvian energy, like most things here," she explained. "The energy manipulates gravity and friction, allowing the lift to move smoothly up and down the tower."


    Leonardo nodded, trying to grasp the concept. The more he learned about rasvian energy, the more he realized how central it was to this new world he found himself in. As they stepped into the lift,


    The doors of the lift closed silently behind them, and with a soft hum, they began their ascent towards the golden tower.

 The Lift

    As the text floated away, Leonardo gained a general understanding of the meaning of "jinx." "There it¡ª" Anna began before being interrupted by Leonardo, who quickly said "is" to match her pace.


    Anna turned to look at Leonardo, confusion evident in her expression. "What was that?" she asked. "I wanted to jinx too," Leonardo explained, his face lighting up with a mixture of excitement.


    Elara burst out laughing, her mirth ringing out like a bell, and tapped him on the shoulder.


    "You''ll get it one day," she said, wiping the tears building up in her eyes. Anna sighed, shaking her head with a smile that showed both amusement and exasperation.


    As they walked towards the lift, a small crowd of people followed behind them, their murmurs and whispers creating a low hum of anticipation.


    The air was filled with a sense of excitement and curiosity, as everyone seemed eager to explore the wonders that lay ahead. As they approached the lift, Leonardo''s eyes widened with recognition.


    There, standing tall and dignified, was the conductor from earlier, The one talking about the tower


    "What is he doing here?" Elara said, her brow furrowing in confusion.


    "Ah, hello there," the conductor greeted them, raising his hand in a salute.


    His uniform was the epitome of classic railway elegance.


    The dark navy-gray jacket he wore was adorned with gleaming gold buttons that ran in a double-breasted line down the front.


    The jacket was perfectly tailored, hugging his seemingly corpulent frame and ending just below the waist.


    Each sleeve was decorated with intricate gold braiding, adding an extra touch of sophistication to his ensemble, which, unlike his personality, was surprising.


    A matching navy-gray cap sat smartly atop his head, bearing a shiny black visor and an emblem that spoke of his distinguished role.


    Beneath the jacket, he wore a crisp white dress shirt with a starched collar, and a neatly knotted black tie that completed the formal look. His trousers, also navy-gray, were sharply pressed, with a crease that ran perfectly down the center of each leg.


    His polished black shoes gleamed in the light, reflecting his meticulous attention to detail.


    A name tag pinned to his chest identified him as an official representative of the railway, and a gold chain looped from his jacket pocket hinted at the presence of a classic pocket watch, a tool of precision for someone responsible for the punctuality of train schedules.


    "Hi," Leonardo replied excitedly.


    The man was right in front of him, and he could now ask questions without receiving half-hearted answers. "Hello, young man," the conductor said, his voice warm and inviting.


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    He seemed to be in his fifties based on his facial features, his hair gleaming with gray and strands of black. His unshaved beard extended an inch below his chin. In a sense, he was the personification of a train conductor.


    "You can call me Hector," he added, smiling. Leonardo couldn''t help but feel an imaginary warmth emanating from him. "I''m Leonardo," he replied, also in a cheery mood.


    Meanwhile, Anna and Elara stood by the side, watching their interaction unfold with keen interest. "Are they related?" Elara asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Definitely a father-son duo," Anna replied, nodding her head in agreement.


    "Anyway, this way," Hector said, then continued, "I''m going to guide you through the newly built lift." He gestured at the crowd behind them, inviting them to follow.


    The lift in question was as large as a three-story building attached to the side of the stem.


    The door slid open automatically as it sensed people entering.


    The inside was incredibly spacious, with the only thing dividing them from the outside being glass and the door they passed through. Leonardo approached to touch it, his fingers grazing the surface.


    "Looks like glass, feels like glass," he thought, marveling at its texture.


    "But isn''t glass," Hector replied, his tone mysterious. "What do you mean it''s not?" Leonardo asked, his curiosity piqued.


    "Let''s round everyone up first," Hector said, smirking. The lift was just a vast space of nothingness, with the only color being light gray, matching the floor, which felt incredibly hard, almost unbreakable.


    "Everyone, come here," Hector said, clapping his hands together to gather everyone''s attention.


    "Welcome to the newly built lift, designed by Sage Rolhim," he continued, his voice carrying authority and excitement.


    "To clear up some thoughts, the materials used aren''t found in this realm," he said. As he spoke, a voice could be heard from the crowd.


    "I knew it! This floor," a woman said, feeling the ground with an expert''s touch. "I am a materials scientist working for rolls-worth. I haven''t seen materials this strong before," she added, her voice filled with awe.


    Hector, smiling, said, "The material in question is called polsium, a material similar to stone made from pure condensed rasvian energy." As he continued, most people stopped what they were doing to listen. Objects from other realms were as hard to find as rare beasts; only the families from the tower could get them, and even that was difficult.


    "Ah-ha, that explains the toughness," the woman added, her excitement palpable. Most people, however, were getting annoyed by her and left a space around her.


    "Ah, yes," Hector said, sweat dripping from his brow. "The glass, on the other hand, is made from the early stages of polsium, before it becomes fully condensed," he explained.


    Leonardo listened to every word, absorbing the information like a sponge. "Other realms," he thought, then smiled.


    "I''m farther away from that than Ronald," he mused, not for a moment forgetting his brother. Reuniting with his brother was still one of his primary goals.


    "I''ve seen this material before," Anna added, turning to Elara as Hector began to explain the tourism advantages of the lift.


    "When?" Elara replied, her curiosity evident. "Dad held a bit before we left. Didn''t you see it under construction?" Anna asked, confusion clear in her voice.


    "No," both Elara and Leonardo said simultaneously, Leonardo just saying it as a way to butt into the conversation. "Jinx?" Leonardo realized the action performed. Elara started laughing, and Anna couldn''t help but giggle a bit.


    "I did it! I jinxed someone," he said, only to be stopped by Elara. "Jinxed is an entirely different thing," she said, laughing.


    The lift itself was an engineering marvel, designed to transport large groups of people effortlessly between the various levels of the stem. The walls, though transparent, were made of a material far stronger than ordinary glass, offering an unobstructed view of the surroundings.


    Leonardo couldn''t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The journey in the lift was not just a means of transportation but an experience in itself, a glimpse into the marvels of engineering and the mysteries of the realms beyond. The other passengers shared in his wonder, their faces reflecting the same mix of excitement and curiosity.


    Hector''s voice brought them back to the present. "Anyway, let''s start the ride, shall we?" he announced. The doors of the lift closed tightly.

 The Lift 2

    The lift ascended with a mechanical precision that felt almost predatory, its hum a low, threatening vibration that penetrated bone and consciousness. Each meter of vertical ascent was a negotiation with gravity, with unknown forces that lurked just beyond perception.


    Leonardo pressed his face against the glass¡ªnot in wonder, but in a primal attempt to comprehend the shrinking world below. The descending landscape wasn''t a view; it was a memory being systematically dismantled, reduced to fragments of what once felt certain. His breath fogged the glass, a momentary ghost of human vulnerability against the unyielding surface.


    "That''s... something," he muttered, the word "amazing" dying before it could fully form. His voice carried the tremor of someone witnessing a reality fundamentally different from everything known.


    Anna''s gaze swept the glass with a predator''s calculation. "Materials from other realms," she said, each word weighted with an unspoken history of survival and adaptation. Her eyes didn''t just observe¡ªthey dissected, searching for weakness, for potential.


    Elara''s discomfort was more than physical. Her weight-shifting revealed a deeper restlessness, a survival instinct that recognized something fundamentally wrong with being suspended between worlds, with no anchor, no guaranteed return.


    The lift continued its relentless ascent, indifferent to human anxieties. Its mechanical steadiness was a promise and a threat: movement without emotion, progress without compassion.


    When Hector called for a volunteer, the silence wasn''t hesitation¡ªit was calculation. Each passenger evaluated their own survival potential, their own capacity to test the unknown.


    Watanabe Tadashi stepped forward¡ªnot as a volunteer, but as a mechanism of challenge. His Muscle Amplification wasn''t a skill; it was a survival adaptation, a biological weapon honed through countless unseen struggles. The strike against the glass wasn''t just a test¡ªit was a ritual of understanding, of probing the boundaries between known and unknown.


    The glass absorbed his strike like a living membrane, vibrating with an intelligence that suggested something beyond mere material. Not unbreakable¡ªbut choosing not to break.


    Watanabe''s despair wasn''t defeat. It was recognition. The realization that strength has limits, that some barriers exist not to be broken, but to be understood.


    Leonardo approached him¡ªnot out of simple curiosity, but with the instinct of someone sensing a deeper narrative. Their interaction was a dance of potential connections, of survival strategies trying to understand each other.


    As the lift continued its ascent, the remaining passengers weren''t just travelers. They were survivors, edge-dwellers, individuals who understood that movement itself was a form of resistance against stasis.


    Anna''s final smile wasn''t triumph. It was recognition. The smile of someone who knows the game is always larger than its current players, who sees the board beyond the immediate move.


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    "That guy is amazing," Leonardo marveled. From his poised stance to the sudden strike, everything appeared extraordinary.


    To everyone''s astonishment, the glass remained intact, exhibiting only a slight shiver. The collective gasp from the onlookers was almost palpable.


    "As expected," Anna remarked, observing how the glass remained unaffected. Her voice carried a note of satisfaction, as if the glass''s resilience vindicated her faith in the materials from the Second Realm.


    Most people were shocked at how that seemingly incredible strike did not even manage to dent the glass.


    "Ah, you see," Hector said as his smile grew with each word, "this is almost indestructible," he said while hitting it a few times with his knuckles. Most people let out a collective breath, feeling reassured and no longer anxious about it suddenly breaking or falling.


    "It''s better to see it in action than just believe someone saying it," the woman from earlier said as she got close to the Polsium glass. Most people who were watching the glass moved away as she approached, her curiosity making her bold. "She''s weird," someone murmured. "Really weird," another voice agreed.


    The large man who struck the Polsium glass looked at his fist, almost in despair.


    "It appears I''m not worthy to be a guide," he said, catching Leonardo''s ear. Leonardo walked over to him, his curiosity piqued by the man''s lament.


    "Hi," he said to the man, his voice hesitant yet friendly.


    "Greetings, I''m Watanabe Tadashi (¶ÉÞx ÖÒ)," he said, then made a gesture signifying greetings.


    His demeanor was formal, almost ritualistic, contrasting with the casual environment.


    "What? Oh, I''m Leonardo," Leonardo responded, looking at the translation on the screen.


    "You''re really strong," he told Watanabe. "Can I call you Wata?" Leonardo added, finding the name already a mouthful.


    "Oh¡ª" Watanabe paused for a moment, then accepted, "Wata is alright if it is your preference."


    He stopped talking and continued looking at the glass, his expression contemplative. "It''s really strong," he said flatly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.


    "Yeah, I guess so," Leonardo replied, feeling the conversation becoming awkward. They stayed like that, Leonardo getting slightly embarrassed until he was called by Anna.


    "Leonardo!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the tension.


    "Coming! Bye, Wata!" he called out as he went over to Anna, his steps quickening with relief.


    "Yes, bye, Leonardo," Wata replied without turning around, his attention still on the glass.


    "That guy seems sad," Leonardo said as he reached them, concern evident in his voice.


    "He''s a guide," Anna said to him, then scoured the lift, her eyes searching the remaining passengers.


    "If he''s here, then another one of the family''s heirs should be here," she continued, her voice tinged with anticipation.


    "It looks like it really is today. I was having second thoughts," Elara chimed in, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.


    "Yeah, it appears so," Anna said, her gaze intense. Leonardo looked at where Wata stood as the man turned and headed in the opposite direction, his figure slowly diminishing in the distance.


    As the lift reached another floor and most passengers disembarked, Hector noticed that there were still a few left, including Anna, Elara, Leonardo, and several more, scattered around.


    The remaining passengers seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something significant.


    "Aren''t you going down?" he inquired, walking towards them, confusion evident in his eyes.


    "No," Anna replied flatly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.


    "We are going to the very top," Elara added, her voice firm and resolute.


    "The very¡ª" Hector began, then paused.


    "You''re one of the families, aren''t you?" he asked, his eyes widening as he turned around to see the remaining folks, most of whom were from the families.


    He gulped at the number of high-ranking people present, the realization dawning on him.


    "Yes," Anna answered, a smile creeping onto her face, her eyes glinting with ways of dominating everyone in the lift.

 Takashiro Ryuji (楂樺煄 榫嶅徃)

    Anna''s smile was a razor''s edge¡ªsubtle, but capable of cutting through the ambient tension. The lift became a crucible, containing not just passengers, but potential. Heirs. Survivors. Each breath carried the weight of unspoken histories.


    Leonardo''s curiosity erupted like an exposed nerve. "Why do his eyes look like that?" he asked, pointing at Tadashi¡ªa gesture both innocent and invasive.


    "Monolids," Anna responded, the word falling like a stone into still water. Her exasperation wasn''t merely about explaining¡ªit was about the vast cultural chasms that separated their experiences. Each word was a negotiation between understanding and incomprehension.


    "What are monolids?" Leonardo persisted, his ignorance a weapon more dangerous than any blade.


    Anna''s forehead massage was a ritual of restraint. "A feature from a different city," she explained, her patience a thin membrane stretched to its breaking point. "People from that city carry their history in the geometry of their eyes, in the cadence of their names."


    Elara''s interjection cut through their exchange like cold steel. "No more rasvian-based machines," she muttered¡ªa statement that was part warning, part lament.


    The concept of "technology" here was an illusion¡ªa delicate dance with rasvian energy. Not creation, but negotiation. Not invention, but manipulation. Objects were not crafted; they were persuaded. Each infusion of energy a whispered promise, each device a potential betrayal.


    High-tier users didn''t create; they conversed with fundamental reality. They were not engineers or scientists, but translators of an incomprehensible language¡ªrasvian energy flowing like an underground river, responsive to will, indifferent to intention.


    Tadashi and Ryuji approached¡ªnot as individuals, but as living archives of potential.


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    Ryuji was architecture made flesh. His kimono wasn''t clothing, but armor. Black fabric with subtle patterns that caught light like memory¡ªeach thread a potential weapon, each fold a strategic decision. The katana at his side was less a weapon and more a philosophical statement: precision embodied.


    His eyes¡ªgreen and intense¡ªscanned the environment like a predator assessing terrain. Every movement calculated, every glance a measurement of threat and opportunity.


    When Ryuji drew his blade against Leonardo, it wasn''t aggression. It was assessment. A test. A fundamental probing of boundaries.


    "You''re her guide?" The question was a scalpel, dissecting Leonardo''s worth in a single breath.


    Leonardo became smaller, compressed by Ryuji''s gaze¡ªa raw demonstration of hierarchical power. Not cruelty. Just pure, unfiltered evaluation.


    He''s probably the strongest heir at the moment. "Takashiro Ryuji," Anna replied with a precise accent.


    "Anna" Takashiro said, his tone slow "Ryuji, your back from your city." Anna replied. "Ah, you''re right," he said, scratching his chin slightly.


    They continued conversing, Takashiro acting as if Elara and Leonardo were nonexistent in the current discussion. Unlike Wata, Leonardo didn''t think he had the right to ask for a shorter nickname, and he could only hope he would pronounce it correctly.


    Suddenly, Takashiro turned towards Leonardo.


    "You''re her guide?" he said flatly, eyeing him with a steely gaze. Leonardo couldn''t help but feel inferior to the boy.


    "You can call me Takashiro," he said, watching Leonardo''s every fidget and motion. Drawing his blade in a swift motion with calculated precision, Takashiro''s blade hovered at the tip of Leonardo''s neck.


    "He really didn''t dodge that?" Takashiro asked, genuinely perplexed. "You chose such a weakling as your guide?" he mocked. "You picked someone beneath you in overall prowess as your guide, too?" Anna retorted, annoyance growing on her face as she forced a smile and sighed a little. "Let''s greet formally at the tower," he finally said, stepping aside.


    "That''s the master¡ªsuch dedication. No one in the family managed to master three styles at the age of seventeen," Wata said, practically praising him as they departed.


    "Yes, yes, Wata," Takashiro replied dismissively.


    He employs two styles with his blade: Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto-ryu (ÌìÕæÕý�»ÏãÈ¡ÉñµÀÁ÷) with a hint of Yagyu Shinkage-ryu (ÁøÉúÐÂêŽÁ÷), somewhat visible. Unlike many others, he also mastered another style, Itto-ryu (Ò»µ¶Á÷), which he attempted to use on Leonardo.


    "We have a long way to go," Anna sighed.


    "Get ready, everyone. We are about to reach the final floor," Hector announced cheerily.

 Top of Stem

    The tower''s ascent became a metaphysical journey, each moment a negotiation between known and unknown.


    Anna''s observations cut through the space like a surgical instrument. "He''s strong," she remarked of Takashiro¡ªnot as praise, but as clinical assessment. Each of his steps was a language of power, a calculated performance of dominance that spoke volumes beyond mere movement.


    "What are they doing in that family?" she questioned, her words laden with a mixture of astonishment and something darker¡ªa recognition of systemic power that both repelled and fascinated her.


    Elara''s dismissive "Prideful much" was a weapon of its own¡ªa verbal strike against the hierarchical structures that defined their existence.


    Leonardo, marked by Takashiro''s blade¡ªa minor cut trickling with blood¡ªrepresented vulnerability personified. His question about the families wasn''t mere curiosity, but a survival instinct seeking to map the terrain of power.


    "Eighteen at present," Elara responded. The phrase hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. By the time the quest concludes, that number would shift¡ªa brutal mathematics of survival and elimination.


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    The lift continued its ascent, a metal capsule suspended between worlds, carrying potential energy more volatile than any mechanical system.


    As they breached the cloud layer, reality itself began to deconstruct. The familiar azure sky dissolved into an infinite void¡ªa canvas of darkness punctuated by scintillating points of light. Each "star" was not a celestial body, but a city. Each point of light, a potential world.


    Hector''s exposition was not merely description, but an invocation. His words transformed space from an abstract concept into a living, breathing entity.


    "In this boundless expanse, timelessness becomes tangible," he intoned. The words were an incantation, revealing a cosmos that existed beyond human comprehension. Not a landscape to be conquered, but a mystery to be witnessed.


    The planet below¡ªa curved expanse of swirling clouds and deep blue oceans¡ªwas no longer a world, but a precious artifact. A delicate orb suspended in an incomprehensible darkness, its beauty both fragile and terrifying.


    Stars¡ªno longer distant pinpricks¡ªnow appeared as resolute beacons. Each light a potential doorway, each shadow a narrative waiting to be understood.


    When the lift stopped, it was not an ending, but a threshold.


    The figure waiting at the destination was a living paradox¡ªa walking contradiction that defied temporal logic. Medieval armor merged with contemporary sneakers, a long sword strapped casually like a modern accessory. Not a costume, but a statement: boundaries are illusions.


    Their greeting was minimal. "Yo." A single syllable that contained entire universes of potential interaction.


    Leonardo''s "Hey" in response was more than an acknowledgment. It was a first step into a world where everything¡ªevery object, every moment¡ªexisted in a state of perpetual transformation.


    The universe watched. Waiting.

 Top of Stem 2

    As they pass through the lift gates to the tower''s summit¡ªa structure extending to the very fringes of space¡ªLeonardo''s attention is irresistibly drawn to a figure clad in knightly armor, seamlessly combined with modern hoodies in a perfect, incongruous blend.


    As Leonardo and the others proceed deeper into the towering edifice, they are transported to a realm that melds the grandeur of a medieval kingdom with the awe-inspiring vastness of space.


    The tower''s interior is a marvel of craftsmanship, evoking the splendor of a castle from Leonardo''s era, yet imbued with an otherworldly ambiance that reflects its celestial location.


    The walls, seemingly constructed of stone, radiate an uncanny warmth, as though they harbor the very essence of the realm''s history within their grain.


    Expansive corridors stretch before them, their ceilings soaring high above, supported by grand columns that are both sturdy and elegant.


    Each column is adorned with intricate patterns and arcane sigils that glow faintly, casting an ethereal luminescence that dispels any lurking shadows.


    Chandeliers dangle from these vaulted ceilings, their design an exquisite fusion of medieval craftsmanship and Rasvian-based technology.


    Composed of crystal and gold, the chandeliers are intricately fashioned with cascading tiers, each holding innumerable candles that flicker with a warm, almost preternatural light.


    The flames dance as if imbued with life, their glow reflecting off polished surfaces and suffusing the corridors with a golden radiance.


    Luxurious carpets enshroud the floors, their rich hues and elaborate patterns reminiscent of the finest tapestries from the medieval era.


    The carpets are plush underfoot, muting the sound of footsteps and imbuing the otherwise imposing structure with an air of tranquility.


    Lining the walls, numerous vases rest on pedestals, each a masterpiece in its own right. The vases are large, with wide bodies and slender necks, their surfaces adorned with depictions of pastoral beauty and courtly life.


    The flowers within them are not of this world¡ªstrange, luminescent blossoms that emit a soft, rhythmic light, as if they are alive and breathing.


    Paintings adorn the walls, each one a work of art. Some portray the noble families of the realm, their faces captured in moments of triumph or sorrow, while others depict fantastical landscapes that stretch the imagination¡ªfields of stars, mountains suspended in the void of space, and cities built upon clouds.


    The frames of these paintings are gilded, their surfaces etched with runes that seem to shift and change when viewed from different angles, adding an air of mystique to the already enchanted setting.


    As they progress, the number of people in their entourage increases slightly, with more heirs joining the procession.


    "Dad should be there," Anna remarks flatly, her tone betraying little emotion. The corridors seem to stretch endlessly, and the very fabric of the realm appears to expand into a castle, whose monumental shape, if viewed from the outside, would leave one breathless.


    It is a magnificent creation, meticulously crafted by the sage¡ªthe same sage who had bestowed an almost insurmountable quest upon a group of youths. "Yeah, he''s always at this meeting," Elara replies.


    Leonardo cannot tear his gaze away from the figure clad in armor¡ªa familiar sight from his world, yet so alien in this one.


    The figure''s gender remains indiscernible, but their gait is marked by a grace reminiscent of a marquis, similar to Anna. Takashiro''s movements, on the other hand, are fiery and calculated, yet this figure''s grace seems to come naturally, as if born from an innate nobility.


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    The knight is accompanied by a woman, whose presence commands attention despite the subdued ambiance.


    Leonardo''s eyes are drawn to this enigmatic figure. Their attire defies easy categorization.


    The long, flowing dress is dark, almost black, but upon closer inspection, it reveals hints of deep indigo.


    The dress is cinched at the waist by a broad leather belt adorned with pouches and holsters, each likely containing esoteric tools or weapons.


    The most striking of these is the staff the figure holds, its metal glinting ominously under the dim light of the chandeliers.


    The figure''s head is crowned with a wide-brimmed hat, the brim extending outward like the wings of a raven. Draped over the hat is a black veil, thin and gauzy, obscuring the figure''s face from view.


    The figure''s gloved hands are delicate, the gloves themselves matching the dress with a similar worn quality. The way they stand, with one hand resting lightly on the staff and the other by their side, suggests a readiness for action, as if they are perpetually prepared for confrontation.


    "That''s a wizard," Anna interjects, her voice cutting through Leonardo''s thoughts as she notices his interest in the armored figure¡ªwhom she has dubbed the "hoody knight."


    "What?" Leonardo replies, his curiosity now fully piqued.


    In his era, people used Agnite radiation to manipulate their bodily attributes. Radiation in this context had numerous effects on the body.


    In his world, Agnite radiation served as a boon rather than a bane. When exposed to this unique form of radiation, individuals could enhance their physical and mental faculties beyond natural limits.


    Muscles would strengthen, reflexes would sharpen, and even cognitive abilities would reach extraordinary heights.


    The radiation also accelerated healing and granted resistance to various ailments, effectively turning those who harnessed it into superhuman beings. However, this power came at a cost; prolonged exposure required careful management, as the radiation could overwhelm the body, leading to unpredictable mutations or, in extreme cases, a complete loss of humanity.


    People who harnessed Agnite radiation were known as wizards in Leonardo''s era, and now he wonders what the wizards in this realm are capable of. His mind begins to wander, imagining the myriad possibilities.


    "People who have a natural affinity for Rasvian energy," Anna clarifies, her tone shifting as the conversation turns to more serious matters.


    "Among the 18 families gathered, five have two heirs," she says, her tone taking on a more authoritative edge.


    Elara, who has been quietly contemplating, quickly calculates.


    "If five families have two participants similar to you and Anna, with Anna being the heir, 13 should have one, each accompanied by a single guide. That makes 26 normal heirs and 20 doubles when you include the guides."


    "So, 46 people are here then," Elara concludes, to which Anna responds, "And all of them are worthy opponents."


    As they walk, they veer off into a more secluded path, away from the crowd they had been following.


    "We know this is just an exploration quest, but you never know what''s going on in their heads," Anna says, glancing towards Takashiro, subtly indicating that he may be the most dangerous among them.


    Wata walks beside him, futilely attempting to mimic Takashiro''s measured stride.


    As they delve deeper into the tower, Leonardo notices the occasional window cut into the stone walls.


    These windows do not reveal the outside world as one might expect, but instead offer breathtaking views of the cosmos.


    Stars twinkle like diamonds in the endless void, and distant planets, some ringed and others swirling with colorful gases, hang like ornaments in the sky.


    It''s as if the tower itself is a gateway between worlds, a bridge connecting the ancient with the infinite.


    At the heart of the tower, the grand hall unfolds before them, its vastness and splendor surpassing anything Leonardo has ever encountered. The ceiling soars high above, vanishing into shadow.


    Massive pillars line the room, each one carved with scenes of epic battles and legendary heroes.


    The floor is made of polished marble, the smooth surface reflecting the light from the chandeliers above, creating the illusion of walking on a mirror.


    At the far end of the hall stands a throne, monumental in scale and design. It is carved from a single piece of dark stone, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen, yet its edges remain sharp and imposing.


    The back of the throne is tall, reaching towards the heavens, adorned with symbols and runes that glow faintly, pulsating with a palpable power. The throne symbolizes authority, a stark reminder of the sage who resides here, the one who has summoned them for this quest.


    In the center of the hall stands a long, rectangular table, its surface crafted from a dark, almost obsidian-like wood, polished to a lustrous sheen.


    The table is set for 18, with chairs that are both grand and austere, each one meticulously crafted with the same attention to detail as the rest of the tower.


    The chairs are tall, with high backs and gracefully curved armrests, yet they are also solid and heavy, designed to convey a sense of permanence and strength.


    Gradually, the 18 heads of the families begin to arrive, Anna''s father among them, his presence unmistakable.

 An invisible force

    The pressure descends¡ªnot merely physical, but metaphysical. A force engineered to dismember the very architecture of consciousness, to reduce beings to their most primal, fragmented state.


    Leonardo becomes landscape¡ªa terrain of suffering, each muscle a battlefield where survival negotiates with annihilation. His lungs, once instruments of breath, now transformed into crushing chambers of desperation. Each incomplete breath is an act of rebellion against a force designed to eradicate existence itself.


    The moment the pressure dissolves, silence becomes a living entity. Not absence of sound, but a presence¡ªheavy, expectant, laden with unspoken prophecies.


    "Ah, I spoke too loudly," the voice says¡ªa statement that reveals nothing, implies everything.


    Leonardo collapses. Not dramatically, but systematically. His body¡ªa machine recovering from catastrophic systems failure. Tremors ripple through him, aftershocks of a near-extinction event.


    Elara sinks. Her knees¡ªno longer structural supports, but surrender made flesh. Tears hover at the precipice of release, held back by a willpower forged in crucibles of unspoken trauma.


    Then arrives Alain.


    A being that defies categorical understanding. Blood-red eyes that slice through darkness like weaponized perception. His casual attire¡ªa deliberate act of psychological warfare. Where others don medieval armor, he wears a t-shirt and shorts: a declaration that normative expectations are for the weak.


    Moments ago, he was crushed like the others. Now, he rises with a fluidity that suggests the previous moment was merely a performance of vulnerability.


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    Takashiro''s scoff is a knife¡ªsharp, reflexive. "Who does he think he is?" The question is less inquiry, more territorial marking.


    Alain moves. Not walks. Moves. Each step a negotiation with gravity, with expectation, with the very fabric of perceived reality.


    Leonardo feels a memory tugging¡ªa fragment of something half-remembered. A dimly lit loft. Alain. Another figure. Tension thick enough to carve.


    The memory surfaces like a drowning truth: Why was Alain there? Who was the bandaged figure? Questions that are not questions, but living wounds.


    They enter the chamber of family heads. Silence here is not absence, but a sentient force. Judgment made atmospheric. Each breath weighted with dynastic implications.


    Alain approaches his father with a casualness that is itself a form of violence. The family heads react¡ªnot with anger, but with a sophisticated performance of disdain.


    "Six families at the top of the pyramid," Elara reveals¡ªa statement that is both fact and prophecy.


    And then¡ªthe absence. Marquis. Not just missing, but a void where expectation once resided.


    Anna''s muttered "That egotistical prick" is less an insult, more a ritualistic acknowledgment of disrupted order.


    The room holds its breath. Waiting.


    They pass through the door, the knight trailing close behind, his presence as imposing as the silence that greets them. Anna''s father is visible from where they stand, his expression a storm of barely contained fury.


    "Ah, they''re here," Marquis''s father announces, his voice tinged with an expectant note, clearly anticipating his son''s arrival. But as the other heirs file into the room, his expression shifts from anticipation to confusion.


    Elara''s sharp eyes catch the subtle change, and she quickly scans the area.


    Her gaze darts from one heir to the next, her heart rate quickening as she realizes the familiar shimmer of blue hair is conspicuously absent.


    "Wait, where is Marquis?" she asks, her voice hushed, her mind racing as she silently confirms his absence.


    Marquis is known for being fashionably late, his entrances often commanding attention.


    But for him to be missing now, at a gathering of such gravity, is an anomaly that sends a ripple of unease through the room. "That egotistical prick," Anna mutters, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and anger.

 Marquis (2)

    Marquis boarded the train, casting a final glance back at Leonardo. As the train levitated and the passage of time gradually became a blur, Marquis turned to his guide.


    The figure, cloaked in dark green, slowly removed his outer garment to reveal a man in his thirties, his lean, muscular physique hidden beneath the cloak.


    It was evident that the de Lorraine family had servants, and Marquis had chosen this man for the role.


    "..." he paused momentarily. "I forgot you don''t have a name yet," Marquis muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of melancholy.


    The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the distance he maintained from those bound to serve him.


    It wasn''t that he couldn''t name the man; it was that he refused to.


    To name him would be to acknowledge the bond of master and servant, a bond he detested. Marquis had chosen this man for his guide not out of need, but as a silent rebellion against the very system that had chained them together.


    He had hoped that by not naming him, he could somehow erase the lines drawn by duty and birthright, setting the man free in a way.


    Though now the man, free yet bound by duty, had to accompany him through perilous quests and the realm''s wonders.


    Marquis found himself regretting his earlier decision. Leaving the man at the family estate in the tower would have been a better choice.


    Now, he had to navigate the dangerous journey with him, a situation fraught with life-or-death stakes. Marquis was astonished that the man hadn''t attempted to escape; he would have welcomed it.


    He viewed this ordeal as a trial he must endure to become the future head of his family¡ªif he survived.


    The cloaked figure merely nodded.


    "Alain should be here," Marquis muttered, recalling how Alain had remained unfazed amid the chaos of the explosion.


    "That prick," he whispered under his breath, his steps quickening with each passing thought.


    The train''s compartments seemed to stretch endlessly before him, each one filled with passengers who barely registered his presence.


    As he passed through, his eyes darted from face to face, searching for the flash of red that would mark Alain''s presence.


    His mind raced, replaying the scene in his head¡ªthe explosion, the chaos, and Alain, sitting there as if nothing had happened.


    How could he be so indifferent? Marquis''s frustration grew with each empty compartment, a simmering anger that threatened to boil over as he delved deeper into the train.


    Despite his frustration, the presence of someone from the Takashiro family, who had somehow ended up as Alain''s guide, was impossible to ignore.


    "He knew I saw him, though he wouldn''t hide from me," Marquis thought, his mind racing. He huffed as he walked, observing passengers seated by the side. Some were sleeping, while others, unable to rest, bore the scars of the explosion''s aftermath, having witnessed their families'' destruction.


    He winced, feeling powerless to assist them, especially knowing that Alain had remained indifferent while conversing with his guide amidst the chaos.


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    His pace quickened, fueled by his anger.


    Marquis was notorious for his short temper, a trait honed by witnessing situations deteriorate due to others'' apathy¡ªsituations that could have been easily avoided if everyone had fulfilled their required roles.


    The explosion could have been prevented. It could have been, it could have been, could it have been prevented?


    "No," he muttered to himself. He couldn''t continue blaming those who were present, those who had endured the tragedy.


    The screams of the victims still haunted him, veins throbbing at his temples. He needed to find the perpetrator of the explosion and... he paused, contemplating what he would do upon finding them. Was it even a person? "He''s going to come with me," he declared, quickening his steps to locate Alain.


    As Marquis moved from compartment to compartment, a sinking feeling began to settle in his chest.


    The train was long, but not endless. He had passed through enough to realize that something was amiss.


    His footsteps slowed, the urgency that had driven him now tempered by a growing sense of dread.


    "He isn''t on the train," he finally admitted to himself, the words coming out flat, devoid of the anger that had fueled him moments before. He paused, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.


    The cold metal beneath his fingers was a stark contrast to the heat of his frustration. With a sudden burst of anger, he struck the wall, the force of his blow sending a faint tremor through the compartment.


    The sound echoed in the silence, but it did little to ease the tension coiling within him.


    "That lazy bastard," he muttered to his guide. "Yes," came the reply. "And that guide of his," he said again. "Yes," his guide responded.


    "Could you answer me properly?" Marquis snapped, recognizing that his guide''s responses were inadequate for the rhetorical questions he posed.


    "I don''t think it''s a person on the train," he continued. "Someone is trying to kill us?" he queried, his mind racing. "Yes," his guide finally replied.


    With three families aboard the train, the motive to cause an explosion was evident, fueling Marquis''s anger.


    The train sped through the endless expanse of hills, with the colossal tower visible even from a great distance, as far as the mountain. Its height and imposing size ensured its visibility from anywhere in the star.


    "The meeting should start in a few hours," his guide interjected, pulling Marquis from his thoughts.


    He had approximately three hours to uncover any information related to the explosion. The city was nearing.


    Marquis halted and turned, heading back to his previous compartment.


    The restless pacing annoyed the passengers, who glared at him as he continued his back-and-forth motion.


    "Guide," he said tersely. "Yes?" came the reply. "How long would it take you to return to the mansion?" he asked, his anticipation clear.


    The speed of his guide was crucial. "It depends," his guide responded. "Do it in an hr," Marquis ordered, walking away without waiting for confirmation. Though he had chosen the man to set him free, he had inadvertently placed him in an even more precarious situation. Under the current circumstances, this was the best solution.


    "I''ll apologize to him later," he thought, "I wonder what he thought of me, a teenager with status? A user of Rasvian energy?" He continued his walk.


    The guide, pulling back his cloak, slipped through the train doors as they briefly opened, long enough for him to exit but too short for the passengers to feel the immense rush of air from outside.


    "This will be a long three hours," he mused to himself.


    With his guide gone, it was time to investigate the train.


    The average passengers who had been affected by the explosion were not primary suspects. Marquis''s mind turned to potential leads, focusing on the events preceding the explosion.


    His thoughts drifted back to the events leading up to the explosion, searching for any detail that might have escaped him. He had been at the lake with his guide, practicing his control over Rasvian energy.


    The calm surface of the water had mirrored the stillness in the air, a deceptive calm before the storm. He remembered watching as Anna and Elara, accompanied by that strange boy, Leonardo, made their way towards the mansion to meet Uncle Richard. Everything had seemed ordinary, routine even.


    But as he turned his attention back to the train, he recalled the subtle shift in the atmosphere¡ªthe uneasy quiet that had settled over the passengers. Most had remained inside, unaware of the looming danger.


    The noise of their distress had been almost tangible in the aftermath.


    And then, a flash of memory came to him: white robes, slipping through the train''s doors just before the explosion.


    It was a fleeting image, but one that now stood out with stark clarity. "White robes," Marquis muttered to himself, clutching at the only clue he had.


    "White robes," he repeated to himself.


    [Landing imminent], the conductor announced.


    There was not enough time to thoroughly investigate the train now. His immediate priority was to assist those who had lost things in the explosion, families maybe, even themselves in the explosion.

 "White robes?"

    Marquis stepped off the train and immediately noticed the platform was swarming with guards.


    The usual crowd of travelers seemed tense, the air thick with unease. Marquis''s frown deepened as he took in the scene.


    "They''ve already increased security?" he murmured, his blue hair shifting slightly with each step.


    As he led the survivors away from the train, a figure in a distinct red uniform approached him.


    Marquis recognized Sergeant Frederick, a man with a clean-shaven face that betrayed the tension he was trying to mask. Despite the strain in his eyes, Frederick offered a brief smile.


    "Ah, Sergeant Frederick," Marquis greeted him, bowing slightly. The presence of so many guards made his own unease grow.


    Frederick returned the bow, his hands twitching slightly as if struggling to maintain his composure.


    "Marquis, we heard about the explosion," he said, his voice flat but respectful.


    Marquis glanced around, noting the extra security. "I see¡­"


    "Yes, I see the unusual number of guards," Marquis replies, still shocked at how quickly the news spread. "We need your help¡ª" Frederick begins, but Marquis cuts him off.


    "It has something to do with robes, white robes specifically," Marquis states bluntly.


    "White robes?" Frederick repeats, confusion evident in his voice.


    "I don''t know much else. I sent my guide to investigate," Marquis admits.


    "Oh, okay, sir," Frederick responds, clearly unsettled by the ambiguity.


    As Marquis continued to guide the survivors, he felt a small tug on his sleeve.


    He looked down to see a young girl, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. "Thank you, uncle," she whispered, her voice trembling.


    Marquis blinked, taken aback. "Oh, I''m not¡ª" He hesitated, noticing the fragile hope in her eyes.


    "What are you doing here?" he asked gently, trying to steer the conversation away from her mistaken assumption.


    The girl''s lower lip began to quiver. "My older brother¡­ he¡­" Her words dissolved into sobs, her small frame shaking as the weight of her grief overwhelmed her.


    Marquis, still just a child himself, felt a knot form in his stomach. "I''m¡­ sorry," he said awkwardly, unsure how to comfort her.


    He had never lost anyone close, and the depth of her pain was beyond his understanding. His attempt at sympathy only made him feel more helpless.


    Noticing Marquis''s growing discomfort, Sergeant Frederick stepped forward. "Don''t worry, sir, I''ll handle this," he said gently, kneeling down to the girl''s level. He took her hand and began guiding her towards a nearby medic, offering her the comfort that Marquis couldn''t.


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    taking the girl gently by the hand and leading her towards a medic on the other side of the skyway hub.


    The area, usually a clearing where the train lands, is now filled with more guards and medics than ever before.


    Marquis clenches his hand into a fist. Like Anna, this is his first time outside, barring the unofficial visits his father arranged when he was a mere child, not much older than the girl before him.


    He walks away from the clearing towards another area.


    [Back at the top of the tower]


    The room at the top of the tower buzzed with the low murmur of conversation. Heads of various families had gathered, the weight of the upcoming decisions pressing heavily on everyone present. The atmosphere was tense, almost suffocating.


    Alphonse paced near a large window, his hands clasped behind his back. Every few seconds, his eyes darted anxiously to the entrance.


    "Where is Marquis?" he finally demanded, his voice tight with worry. He had heard about the explosion long before his son arrived, but Anna and Elara, who entered the tower hours after him, were already here. Marquis, however, was not.


    "Calm down, Alphonse," Henri, Anna''s father, said, trying to soothe him. But the way things were going, Henri feared Alphonse might lose his composure entirely.


    Alphonse turned slowly to Henri, his face a mask of barely contained panic. "No, Henri, my only son is missing at a meeting that holds our entire future at stake," he said, his voice rising with anger.


    Most of the others in the room paid little heed to his outburst, focused on their own concerns.


    The meeting room, usually a place of cold calculation, now felt like a pressure cooker, ready to explode at any moment.


    Alphonse''s anxiety only added to the palpable tension.


    "The meeting should start soon. It seems I''ll soon be busy," a mysterious voice whispers, a stark contrast to the earlier destructive tone. This one feels like a whisper directly behind their ears.


    "He should be here soon," Leonardo says, catching Henri''s attention. Henri, eager to see the person his daughters chose as their heir, feels his interest piqued. Has this boy really got the confidence to speak out in a meeting of the heads? He must be strong, Henri thinks.


    "How sure are you?" Alphonse asks, his anger still simmering, though faint hope glimmers at the edge of his voice.


    "I saw him off on the train. He left with a dark-cloaked man¡ª" Leonardo begins, but Alphonse is interrupted by the sudden opening of the door.


    "Marquis..." Takashiro mutters slightly, wishing the fool wouldn''t show up altogether. It seems the more you wish for something, the less likely it is to happen.


    Marquis appears in the hall, walking slowly towards where his father stands. He catches Leonardo''s eye. "Dad, and... uh, Leonardo?" he says, puzzled.


    "Told you he would be ''fashionably late,''" Anna quips, using air quotes as she stands a few feet away.


    "You''re right," Elara replies.


    "The only cute thing here is Leonardo," Anna says, casting a teasing glance at her sister.


    " you''re right!, he''s so cute and small," Elara agrees. That might be the only reason they chose Leonardo. They walk towards their father, leaving Leonardo behind with Marquis.


    Takashiro watched as marquis walked over to his father and the guide of the other girls, "Leonardo.." , his mono-lid eyes gleaming with a sharpness that made his father uneasy. Takashiro had grown so quickly, his height and strength nearly surpassing his father''s. His father couldn''t shake the feeling that something dark was festering within his son.


    "What is this meeting for again, Father?" Takashiro asked, his tone cold and almost emotionless.


    There was a seriousness in his voice that sent a chill down kokoro''s spine. Sometimes, kokoro couldn''t help but think, I wish I didn''t have to deal with this. His mind strayed to the darker side of his fears.


    "To start the quest," kokoro replied, his voice unsteady. He knew his son was a prodigy, he had hoped it was just a phase, something that would pass, but Takashiro had taken it too far.


    "How long do you think it will take?" Takashiro asked again, his eyes glinting with a strange light that made his heart race.


    "Two to three years at best," Kokoro answered, his voice almost a whisper now. He kills for fun. What have I created?


    "Oh, that''s better. I thought it would be six," Takashiro said, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of relief and excitement.


    As Takashiro walked away, his father felt a knot of dread tightening in his chest.


    He glanced around the room, noting the tense expressions on the faces of the other attendees.


    The weight of what was to come pressed down on everyone present, the air thick with anticipation.


    Just as he was about to speak, a voice rang out from the front of the room.


    "Let the meeting commence," the sage of the stem announced, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.


    The murmur of conversation ceased immediately, and all eyes turned towards the center of the room.


    The meeting that would determine the fate of many was about to begin.

 Meeting begins

    The voice says, "Everyone but the heads shiver." This time its tone is similar to the first one.


    A man wearing Inca similar armor, which consists of intricate gold-plated breastplates th, feathered headdresses, and ornate ceremonial masks, stands up.


    His armor is adorned with detailed engravings of celestial symbols and geometric patterns.


    He gestures his hand and says, "Inti Yupanqui here," then sits back down almost seamlessly.


    Another head stands up.


    He wears modern clothing resembling high fashion¡ªtailored suits, elegant fabrics, and bold accessories.


    His attire exudes a snobby, top-tier confidence, with a crisp, impeccably styled appearance, the cut of his suit, the bold patterns and colors almost out of a rainbow his personality is reflected in his choice of clothing.


    he adjusts his cufflinks with a smug expression, . that contrasts sharply with the formalities of the room.


    He says, "Colan Here," then sits back down with an air of superiority his shoes make a soft, deliberate click on the floor as he sits.


    "That''s really bright" Leonardo says noting at how someone would want to dress like that


    Leonardo watches as the heads rise and fall while calling out their names with attendance.


    "It''s a formal greeting," Marquis interjects, already noticing Leonardo''s fidgeting. The heirs stand at the front of the door they entered, positioned haphazardly with no formal arrangement.


    The table sits in the middle, long and accommodating with chairs for the heads. Further back is an extremely large throne where, presumably, the sage sits.


    Marquis turns to Leonardo, almost fixing his gaze on the ground.


    "I know I said we should introduce ourselves formally," he says, then continues, "how about after this?" Sensing that this meeting would be longer than usual as his father is already tensing, "Sure," Leonardo replies enthusiastically.


    He really wants to be friends with Marquis, and just one act has made Leonardo see him in a different light compared to others.


    Anna scoffs at how well Leonardo and Marquis are getting along but notices his frequent twitch


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    She pauses and looks around then realizes his guide isn''t with him¡ªthe dark green cloak should have been eerily visible.


    Elara, not paying mind to this, continues watching as more families rise to say their names and attendance.


    Turning to the approximate 46 Quest goers the crowd,


    [Total Quest-goers = Heirs (28) + Guides (18) = 46.]


    she observes that most heirs seem disengaged, merely waiting for their moment to become relevant in the meeting. Takashiro stays at the end of the crowd, watching his father with intense detail that contrasts sharply with the disinterest of others.


    His focus catches Elara''s attention. "You ever notice¡ª" she tries to mutter before the all-too-familiar voice of her father speaks up.


    "Henri de Meaux." Henri stands up, his coat swaying as his elaborate embroidery catches the light.


    He stares at Anna as he speaks. She pauses and stares back. He is the only head who isn''t part of the top tier of the pyramid but is strong enough to contend with them.


    Known for mocking the others, his family is at the bottom of the heads'' list in overall favorability. He sits back down slowly compared to how swiftly he stood.


    Before he sits, he stares at his daughters, then at Leonardo, making him feel a pressure. Henri then turns back to Anna, his usual mockery replaced with pure seriousness.


    "Alphonse de Lorraine," he says flatly as he stands up. Alphonse''s suit matches the color of his blue hair, creating a striking contrast.


    The sun insignia on his suit''s top left chest symbolizes burning or shining, representing the family''s prowess, the sun insignia could be described as radiating with an almost literal glow, symbolizing the power and pride of the de Lorraine family


    "Kokoro Takashiro" he says, his armor slightly slowing him down though he eventually manages to do so.


    Henri scoffs at this, while Alphonse looks on, flabbergasted. "Why judge him for wearing armor when Sir Eadric is there?" he says silently, though Henri hears it. "I have no idea," is Henri''s curt reply.


    His face grows tenser as Takashiro sits back down. A few heads remain, standing in no required order, making the process seem random.


    "This year''s 500-year quest," the voice finally announces as the greetings end. The heads sit in their chairs, while the heirs remain standing. Unlike the heads, the fear in the atmosphere is palpable.


    "Your task is to, in short, explore the 17 wonders and bring back an object of similar value to an object from the higher realm, which should be easily findable." Henri winces at this.


    Is the sage serious? It''s like telling a snake to fly, especially giving this task to a group of kids who haven''t even reached adulthood.


    "You can go in any order fitting your preference."


    "That should be fine, right?" Leonardo mutters to Anna. "I think so. We could avoid the other heirs that way," she replies, not facing him but looking toward the empty throne, where presumably everyone in the hall is directing their attention.


    "You are allowed to take a guide with you¡ªone," the voice continues. "The heirs have the supreme right to choose their guides, without the help or assistance of the heads or family members."


    Leonardo tries to understand, but as time passes, the sage''s words become mumbled or scrambled, with only the first syllable remaining clear.


    [immediate translation problem]


    "I can''t understand," he says to Anna. Marquis, though not focused on them, notices Leonardo''s confusion. "What?" Anna says flatly, not wanting to deal with Leonardo''s behavior.


    The glowing text begins to faintly drift away as Leonardo looks at it.


    "Hmm?" The voice says. Everyone who was either paying attention or not raises their eyes to the throne. What was that? Was the sage interested in something, here or in another location?


    "There''s an interesting person here?" the voice says, though not fully sure.


    "Who is it, sage?" the man in Inca armor asks, voicing everyone''s thoughts.


    "Ah, I can''t say right now. I''ll have to speak with someone else." That was it. The sage doesn''t say another word, and the voice simply vanishes.

 Meeting(2)

    Then the voice returned, calm yet commanding. "Back to explaining the quest," it said, as if it had never left. Leonardo, still grappling with the sage''s cryptic words, tried to make sense of it all.


    "The quest, as mentioned before, is an exploration quest. With exploration, you must gather tangible evidence of the place¡ªobjects of similar value and facts about the location.


    These are likely your main objectives," the voice continued. Leonardo began to piece it together.


    "Oh, I''m getting it now," he murmured. "You''re really weird," Anna giggled, unable to suppress her amusement.


    "His words were just jumbled up for some reason," Leonardo explained.


    "This happened before, right?" Elara asked.


    "Maybe," Leonardo replied, uncertainty lingering in his tone.


    "He''s just adding more objectives as time goes," Sir Eadric muttered, stomping his feet in frustration.


    "Before this meeting ends, the children might have 300 objectives," the man wearing a chaperon chuckled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.


    "Sometimes I forget¡ªno, you seem to forget¡ªthat your son is also participating in this quest," Alphonse interjected, interlocking his hands as he rested them on the large table. "Oh, you do care," he laughed bitterly.


    "Beaugois," the Marquis said, his voice laced with disdain. "You resemble nothing like your son, you know."


    "He resembles his mother," Beaugois replied, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "I''m not always home, you know. He''s always with her."


    "I''m not here for a sob story. Enough," Alphonse snapped.


    "Ahaha, alright," Beaugois replied, the laughter masking the pain beneath.


    Henri rested his elbow on the table, his face buried in his palm. "This is pure bullshit. It''s obvious he wants us out of here," he muttered, causing everyone to turn towards him.


    Though his words echoed the unspoken truth, many clung to the power and status that came with being among the 18 families, even if they were at the bottom of the pyramid.


    Alain yawned from where he sat, seemingly indifferent to the tension in the room. His nonchalance caught the Marquis''s attention, who was shocked to see him here after everything that had happened.


    You''d think he''d try to hide after what he did, yet here he was, acting like the usual "him." At the sight of Alain, the Marquis''s green eyes burned with anger, veins pulsing at his temples.


    The other heirs around him instinctively moved away, sensing the storm brewing. Alain, noticing the shifting atmosphere, nearly gestured a wave at the Marquis. His guide, a shirtless man of Takashiro origins, stood nearby, clueless.


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    "What?" the Marquis muttered in pure disbelief as he stormed over to Alain. "Marqu¡ª"


    "Shut up, you little prick. You have some explaining to do," the Marquis snapped.


    Leonardo, who had been standing near the Marquis, watched him leave abruptly to confront Alain.


    "Ah, that guy again," he muttered, recalling the earlier encounter. "He was there when the explosion happened," he realized.


    "Alain? He''s really¡­ unattached seems to be the best word," Elara added, her tone thoughtful.


    "The quest doesn''t have a set time limit. For all I care, it could take 200 years," the voice stated flatly.


    Takashiro''s monolids seemed to widen as he turned to his father, who hadn''t noticed the relief washing over him. "Father lied?" he muttered under his breath, his dark hair swaying slightly as he stood by Wata.


    "What''d I do?" Alain replied, feigning innocence.


    "The explosion," the Marquis repeated, his voice tinged with growing frustration.


    "And? It didn''t affect me, did it?" Alain retorted flatly. "I really don''t care for those people. Why should you?"


    "What?" the Marquis''s voice trembled with barely-contained anger. "People died, Alain.


    "His hand inched toward Alain''s neck, the tension escalating, before Alain''s guide intervened.


    "What are you doing?" the guide asked, his tone calm but firm. "It''s okay. I genuinely have no idea why he''s mad at me," Alain said, directing his words towards Itami (Í´¤ß).


    "Ah, you know the Marquis and his temper," Itami chuckled, attempting to diffuse the situation.


    "That''s Siergured to you," the Marquis snapped.


    "Oh?" Itami replied, his own anger simmering beneath the surface.


    Takashiro gripped his sheet tightly, the veins in his wrist bulging as he struggled to contain his emotions.


    Wata noticed this, concern etched on his face. "Takashiro?" he called out softly, wanting to reach out but hesitating.


    "I know you''re all itching for a fight!" an heir shouted, the anticipation in the room thickening. "That''s Adad" Anna began, turning to Leonardo.


    A boy clad in a robe of deep red, reminiscent of the Assyrians, stepped forward. His outfit was adorned with intricate patterns of black and gold, symbols of war and conquest.


    His armor, though minimal, was designed for swift and ruthless attacks. His guide, in stark contrast, wore simple, tattered clothing, resembling a prisoner''s garb¡ªchains around his wrists and ankles, a reminder that his purpose was not to protect, but to contain the ferocity of the one he served.


    "Shut up, you mutt," Takashiro muttered, his voice low and menacing.


    "Oh, Taka¡­" the boy said, finally noticing him. He stopped mid-sentence, the tension between them palpable.


    His guide, shocked by the sudden shift in demeanor, asked, "What happened?"


    "I don''t know. He just seems more stressed than usual," he replied, his dark brown dreads falling over his shoulders. "Oh," was all he could muster in response.


    "Alain, we meet after this," the Marquis said abruptly, leaving the room with a determined stride.


    "That''s the Marquis for you," Alain sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his tone.


    "The quest, if not completed, equals getting kicked out of the stem," the voice reminded them.


    "He''s saying that again¡­" Sir Eadric grumbled, then raised his voice. "Just get on with the rules already!"


    "Sir Eadric Silver-Shield," a voice whispered, barely audible to anyone else.


    "I find it funny that he hears us," Beaugois commented.


    "He can''t do anything unless there''s ill intent. You know that," Alphonse added.


    "Still funny to know," Beaugois chuckled.


    "The heirs are fighting," Henri noted, having watched the escalating tensions.


    Kokoro, who had shown little interest until now, raised his head slightly at the mention of the heirs fighting. "They seem to have stopped, though," Henri continued.


    Kokoro searched the room for Ryuji, only to find him staring back intently. "That boy¡­" he muttered, something unsettling stirring within him.


    Takashiro held his sheet close, his knuckles white with tension, as he drew his katana.


    "Time for the rules," the voice announced. "I''ve included a gift as well, since many of the heads have complained that I''ve added too many objectives."


    "A single unwritten skill."

 Death

    The room trembled with unspoken tension, a fragile membrane of civility about to rupture. Henri''s muttered "What?" carried more than mere confusion¡ªit was a dam holding back a flood of barely contained fury. The veins at his temples pulsed, a cartography of rising anger that no smirk could mask.


    "An unwritten skill?" Alphonse''s voice dropped to a low, concerned murmur as he glanced at Marquis. The boy¡ªno, the heir¡ªavoided his father''s gaze, but they both knew the truth. Marquis never backed down from a challenge, no matter how razor-thin the margin between opportunity and destruction.


    Around the table, the air grew thick and viscous. An unwritten skill was both a death sentence and a lifeline¡ªa cruel lottery in a world where the 17 wonders dictated survival. Each family head understood the brutal calculus: the wrong skill could transform a promising heir into a corpse faster than a breath.


    Leonardo struggled to piece together the fragments of information. "Isn''t an extra skill good?" he asked, his naivety hanging in the air like a fragile soap bubble.


    Elara''s response cut through his innocence. "Good?" she scoffed, her voice sharp with experience. "It''s a double-edged sword that could slice through your entire future."


    Anna leaned forward, her explanation measured but passionate. "Imagine fire manipulation as your attachment skill, and you''re suddenly granted ice conjuring. Sounds powerful, right? But mastering one skill is a lifetime''s work. Two fundamentally opposed skills?" She shook her head. "That''s a path to mediocrity¡ªor worse."


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The background hummed with additional tension. A knight in mismatched armor shifted uncomfortably, their relationship with the guide a jarring contrast to the clinical atmosphere of the room. "It''s hot in this armor!" they complained, a moment of petulance that seemed wildly out of place.


    Then everything changed.


    Takashiro Ryuji approached, his sword gleaming with a promise of violence. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air growing razor-thin with anticipation.


    "Rule 1: No outside help from humans," a disembodied voice announced. "Break it, and you explode."


    The rules were simple. Brutal. Absolute.


    When Ryuji drew his sword and called out "Itto-ryu," the world seemed to fracture. His father, Kokoro, met his gaze with a chilling detachment. "I was tired of living anyway," he said¡ªa statement that was both surrender and challenge.


    The katana fell.


    Kokoro''s head rolled across the floor, a grotesque punctuation to years of unspoken tension. Blood pooled around the discarded armor, a dark testament to a relationship burned down to its most primal core.


    "Ah... I actually killed him," Ryuji muttered, a complex mix of shock and clinical detachment threading through his words.


    "Rule 3: Killing is allowed," the voice declared, almost playful in its indifference.


    Henri stared, his world recalibrating around this sudden, violent act. Kokoro¡ªa rival, an enemy¡ªwas simply gone. Eliminated with the same casual efficiency one might swat a fly.


    The helmet¡ªthe kabuto¡ªlay separated from its owner, a symbolic dismemberment. Thirty-two iron plates, once a protective fortress, now just a hollow shell. The shikoro''s neck guard, the mabisashi''s visor, the maedate''s katana cutting through darkness¡ªall rendered meaningless in a single, decisive moment.


    Ryuji cleaned his blade, each movement deliberate. "He wasn''t fit anyway," he said, as if discussing nothing more consequential than a disappointing meal.


    The heads of the families sat in stunned silence. This was more than a death¡ªthis was a recalibration of power, a violent inheritance passed from father to son with the swing of a blade.


    The quest had begun.

 Henri

    Takashiro Ryuji walked toward the crowd of heirs,


    his steps measured, deliberate. The death of his father, the head of the Takashiro family, left a palpable void.


    The heirs did not grieve; instead, they exchanged furtive glances, their faces pale and drawn, as if the very air around them had thickened with fear. Whispers buzzed through the crowd like a swarm of nervous insects, and some took an involuntary step back, distancing themselves from the young man who had committed the unthinkable. The shock of the act had seared an image into their minds: this was not just an heir, but a parricide.


    "Ryuji..!" Marquis called out, his voice laced with disbelief, though it barely rose above a whisper. His emotions churned within him¡ªwas it horror, anger, or something else he was meant to feel?


    Marquis stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. The disbelief, the sheer impossibility of what he had just witnessed, weighed heavily on him.


    He couldn''t reconcile the calm, composed figure of Ryuji with the brutal act he had committed. The room seemed to close in around him, the faces of the other heirs blurring into a haze of shocked expressions and whispered disbelief.


    "You weren''t there at the explosion! You didn''t see¡ª" Marquis began, his voice trembling with the weight of unsaid horrors. His mind raced, replaying the moment over and over, trying to make sense of it. How could someone kill their own father so calmly, so coldly?


    "I don''t need to be there," Ryuji interrupted, his tone flat, cold, as if the weight of his actions bore no consequence to him.


    His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into Marquis''s, daring him to challenge his decision.


    Marquis felt a surge of anger, a hot, burning fury that threatened to consume him. How could Ryuji be so dismissive? How could he act as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn''t just shattered the very foundation of their world?


    "Killing isn''t good, no matter who it is!" Marquis shot back, his voice rising with desperate fervor.


    His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. He couldn''t let this go, couldn''t let Ryuji''s actions slide without consequence.


    "He was my father, not yours," Ryuji replied, his words cutting through the air with a chilling detachment.


    There was no emotion in his voice, no hint of regret or remorse. To him, it was simply a fact¡ªa necessary action, nothing more.


    Marquis lunged forward, seizing Ryuji by the collar, the fine fabric bunching awkwardly in his fists.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the whirlwind of emotions threatening to tear him apart.


    The smooth, cold silk of Ryuji''s robe felt alien beneath his fingers, a stark contrast to the heat of his own fury.


    His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating in his ears, drowning out the shocked gasps of the surrounding heirs.


    The tension between them was electric, a live wire ready to snap, as Marquis searched Ryuji''s dark, unreadable eyes for any hint of regret.


    "How¡­!" he started, his voice breaking, but the words died in his throat. What could he say? What could possibly justify or explain what had happened?


    Ryuji stared back at him, unblinking, his expression unreadable.¡¡"this guy!.." There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation.


    He was resolute, unyielding. And in that moment, Marquis realized that no amount of reasoning or pleading would change Ryuji''s mind.


    With a sudden, violent shove, Ryuji pushed Marquis away, the force of it causing him to stumble backward. Marquis caught himself, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he struggled to regain his composure.


    He watched, helpless, as Ryuji turned and walked back to the place he had occupied before committing the unthinkable act, his movements calm and deliberate.


    Wata approached cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sir, was that really necessary?"


    "It is," Ryuji responded, his voice unyielding. There was no doubt, no hesitation. To him, it was the only course of action


    The question of his father''s ignorance about the timeframe of the quest gnawed at Ryuji''s mind.


    How could the head of one of the most powerful families in the Stem not be aware of such a critical detail?


    "He was unfit," Takashiro muttered to himself, echoing the words he had spoken earlier.


    "He really did it¡­ He killed his own father," Beaugois murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Nasty boy, isn''t he?"


    "Who do you think will take over as the new head?" someone from a distant table asked, the morbid curiosity breaking the otherwise stunned silence.


    the figure on the chair exudes an aura of regality. His outfit is a study in rich, deep hues, with a long, flowing robe of dark indigo that cascades down to the floor, pooling around the legs.


    The robe is adorned with subtle patterns, likely embroidered in silver or gold by the neck/collar , that shine a flickering light in the darkly dimmed hall.


    A wide, deep red sash is tied around his waist, cinching the robe and adding a touch of vibrancy to the otherwise dark ensemble.


    On his head, the figure wears a crown that appears to be made of a dark, possibly iron-like metal.


    His hair, long and silver, spills over his shoulders, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric of his clothing.


    The pallor of his skin and the cold, distant look in his eyes, his dark blue eyes.


    "Are you being serious right now, Bel-ibni?" alphonse adds in pure disbelief,


    "I am simply stating what most of us want to hear, but you are right, it is early." Bel-ibni says then ceasing to speak.


    "Why did you do that?" Leonardo''s voice trembled with disbelief as he stood frozen, watching Takashiro stride past him, their shoulders brushing. The reality of what had just transpired was too much for him to process.


    "Well, isn''t he frightening?" the knight remarked, trying to dredge up a memory.


    "Didn''t something similar happen in Silver-Shield history?" He furrowed his brow but then dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "hm, can''t remember."


    Adad, however, seemed to find the whole situation amusing. "Ahahaha, Ryuji! You never fail to stir things up!" His laughter echoed in the hall, his deep red robe beginning to rise off the floor, revealing his muscular arms.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    His fists clenched, and his dreads floated as if charged with an unseen energy.


    "You wish to fight?" Ryuji''s voice cut through the tense silence like a blade, low and cold, with anger simmering just beneath the surface.


    The room seemed to hold its breath, the once-hushed murmurs now swallowed by a thick, oppressive stillness.


    Adad''s lips curved into a slow, predatory grin as his muscles tensed, ready for the inevitable clash.


    His fists clenched, the knuckles turning white as a faint crackle of energy began to gather around him, dancing along his skin like static before a storm.


    "I sure do!" Adad''s reply was laced with eager anticipation, his guide standing by helplessly, unable to intervene.


    "Ah, not this again," Alain muttered, considering leaving altogether, a stark contrast to Itami, whose body language screamed for battle.


    His anger¡ªor perhaps rage was a better term¡ªwas palpable. He didn''t just want to fight; he wanted to kill Ryuji. "Not you too¡­ I''ll just go over there," Alain said, gesturing toward the other side of the hall, away from the escalating tensions between heirs and sages.


    "Enough. Do this after the quest begins," a calm voice commanded, bringing everything to a halt.


    The directive stopped Adad in his tracks, despite his desire to fight. Even Ryuji sighed, his irritation evident.


    "Who made the rule of non-involvement again?" Alphonse asked, his voice tinged with frustration as he struggled to remain seated.


    "And what happens if we break it? Oh, right¡­ compensation," Beaugois muttered, recalling the consequences.


    "Compensation¡­" Henri echoed, the word hanging heavily in the air.


    The concept of compensation was one of the many decrees set forth by the sage¡ªrules that bound locations and in the current hall the heads of the families are bound by a rule, with penalties severe enough to deter even the most reckless. The hall was laden with such restrictions, and Henri knew them well.


    Henri rose from his seat, his movements slow, deliberate. The room seemed to tilt under the weight of what was about to happen.


    The gravity, or perhaps the atmosphere itself, seemed to grow heavier as Henri approached Takashiro.


    Each step echoed ominously in the hall, the sound bouncing off the walls and reverberating in the ears of those present.


    Ryuji''s eyes narrowed as he sensed the change in the room. He could feel the weight of Henri''s presence, the oppressive aura that seemed to emanate from him. But he didn''t flinch; he held his ground, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his katana.


    "He''s done it now," Alphonse muttered, his voice barely audible over the tense silence that had settled over the hall.


    The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every muscle tense, every breath shallow.


    "Go teach the boy a lesson, will you? I can''t afford the compensation, or I surely would!" Sir Eadric said, his voice a sharp contrast to the tension, as if he were goading Henri into action.


    "Shut up, will you?" Beaugois snapped, his patience with Eadric''s endless rambling wearing thin. The tension in the room was palpable, the air almost crackling with it.


    "Oh, how dare¡ª!" Eadric started but ultimately fell silent, sensing the gravity of the situation. His words hung in the air, unfinished, as all eyes turned toward Henri.


    "Dad?" Anna said, her voice laced with surprise as she watched her father move toward the boy who had just killed his own father.


    Her attachment skill, though seeming to be derived from his, was far less potent. The room seemed to still as Henri prepared to act, the silence oppressive, almost suffocating.


    "Attachment Skill: Fool/Trick," she murmured under her breath, almost as if she were reminding herself of the power her father wielded.


    Henri''s skill, though, was far more direct. "Attachment Skill: Graviton Shift," he intoned, the air around him rippling as he manipulated the very fabric of Rasvian energy, moving it with a precision that defied belief. The ground beneath Ryuji''s feet seemed to shift, the air growing heavier, pressing down on him like an invisible weight.


    "I need to take care of something real quick, honey," Henri said flatly, smiling a bit as reassurance, but there was nothing casual about what followed.


    The room seemed to shift, rasvian energy bending as if gravity itself had begun to warp under Henri''s control.


    The air grew dense, pressing down on Ryuji with an almost tangible force. The floor wavered beneath his feet, the once solid ground now feeling as if it were slipping away, like sand through his fingers.


    Ryuji''s knees buckled slightly, a rare sign of weakness, as the overwhelming weight bore down on him.


    He tried to adjust, to regain his balance, but the world around him had already twisted beyond recognition.


    "What" Ryuji grunted, struggling to maintain his stance as the ground seemed to slip away from beneath him.


    His body felt heavy, his movements sluggish, as if he were wading through thick mud.


    "You need guidance, but before that, you need a beating," Henri declared, grabbing Ryuji with a speed and strength that defied his age.


    In one fluid motion, he slammed Ryuji into the floor. The impact was so forceful that the ground, made from a material said to be near indestructible, dented slightly.


    The sound of the impact reverberated through the hall, a dull, echoing thud that made the other heirs flinch.


    "The last question was too simple. Why did you kill your father?" Henri''s voice was steady, unnervingly calm, as if he were asking about something as mundane as the weather.


    But his eyes told a different story¡ªa cold, piercing gaze that bore into Ryuji, seeking out the truth with relentless precision.


    Ryuji''s chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, each inhale sharp and painful against the crushing force still pinning him to the ground.


    Sweat beaded on his forehead, mingling with the blood trickling from his split lip, the metallic taste of it sharp on his tongue.


    His thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm, but one thing remained clear: Henri would not be satisfied with half-truths or evasions.


    "I¡ªtold you¡­" Ryuji tried to reply, but the words were cut off by a brutal punch to his gut, the force of it knocking the wind out of him.


    The pain was sharp, searing, radiating through his body like a wildfire. He gasped for breath, his vision blurring as the world spun around him.


    "Oh, he''s gone¡­" Alain muttered from the sidelines, his voice resigned.


    He could see the outcome already, the inevitable result of Henri''s overwhelming power.


    Adad, who had been so eager for a fight, took a step back, sweat beading on his forehead as he witnessed Henri''s demonstration of strength.


    The sight of Ryuji being so easily overpowered sent a chill down his spine, his bravado fading as reality set in.


    "Are the heads really that powerful?" Leonardo gasped, struggling to comprehend the sheer force on display.


    The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in as the weight of the situation pressed down on him.


    "Not exactly¡­ Dad''s just different," Anna replied with a small smile, pride tinged with an understanding of the power her father wielded.


    She knew, better than anyone, what he was capable of.


    "Lightning," Elara muttered, her gaze shifting to Adad. She could see the fear in his eyes, the way his hands trembled as he realized he was outmatched.


    "How foolish can you be? Stop using your attachment skill!" Marquis shouted, frustration boiling over. "How idiotic is everyone here?" he muttered to himself.


    "He might be as strong as father," Adad whispered, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked toward the table where the heads sat.


    His earlier confidence was replaced with a quiet respect for the power on display.


    The first face he saw was his father''s, staring back at him with a look of intensity. There was no anger, no disappointment, just a calm, measured gaze that seemed to cut through the chaos around them.


    "Oh¡­" Adad muttered, his confidence wavering. The sight of his father, the one person whose opinion truly mattered, made him pause.


    "Ashur" Sir Eadric began, mentioning Adad''s father''s name, but the words trailed off, lost in the tension that hung in the air. The atmosphere was thick, oppressive, as if the very air had turned to lead.


    "I give up¡ª" Adad started, but his words were cut short as Henri moved with blinding speed.


    His fist connected with Adad''s gut, the force of the blow distorting the very fabric of Rasvian energy around them. The air crackled with power, the energy struggling to maintain its form as Henri''s graviton shift bent it to his will.


    Adad''s body spun in the air, the impact so powerful that it left him disoriented, his senses overwhelmed by the force of the blow.


    The lightning that had crackled around him moments before flickered and dimmed, as if the very energy had been knocked out of him.


    "You kids need a beating every now and then," Henri remarked, his voice calm as he watched Adad''s body float in the air, suspended by the force of his graviton shift. His robes billowed around him, the fabric shimmering with the power that radiated from his body.


    "If I''d known I was going to rumble a bit, I would have worn armor," Henri said with a slow, deliberate tone, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement.


    Adad''s father. Ashur, sitting opposite Sir Eadric, merely huffed in agreement, a slight nod of acknowledgment. There was no need for words; the display of power spoke for itself


    Ashur wore a long robe of deep red similar to his son, the fabric rich and flowing. Intricate patterns in black and gold adorned the garment, creating complex geometric designs and symbolic motifs. White and black accents provided striking contrast, particularly in the form of stylized animals and border decorations along the hem and sleeves.


    A wide belt, likely of embossed leather with metal accents, cinched the robe at the waist. On his head, Ashur wore a tall, cylindrical cap typical of Assyrian nobility, decorated with patterns that complemented his robe.


    "Compensation for the head of the de Meaux family, Henri de Meaux, shall commence shortly," the voice announced.


    "I shall continue the rules in due time," the voice added, leaving the hall in a tense, uneasy silence.


    Leonardo stays silent through out the entire affair, what is he Doing in a place like this, he should run back to where the tour guide milah is, the place where he signed the contract seemed good enough, no the environment he experienced when he first entered the tower was extremely better.


    This wasn''t the grand adventure he envisioned at the start of the journey, heck we haven''t even started, he thinks to himself.


    "Is you dad going to be okay?" He turns to elara asking her, Anna on the other hand busy watching her father in awe, its clear she inspires to be like him,


    "Definitely!" Elara responds cheerily, Leonardo is shocked at this, wasn''t this the girl who was quivering at the death of that head?


    He turns back, most people are still scared, he isn''t alone.


    Why is she all of a sudden excited?


    "Dad is not only strong but smart too" she adds to her speech, her dialogue seems to disappear , as Leonardo turns to Henri.


    Is she happy at the mere sight of her father?


    Parental figure.


    "Henris family, de Meaux. excluding the heirs shall receive prohibition of any items that are from another realm or the wonders."


    "Ouch!" Beaugois says, laughing a bit.

 Aftermath

    "How are you going to deal with that?" Beaugois commented, noting the severity of the compensation.


    Compensations aren''t a common occurrence, as most heads don''t usually meet the sage, making it more of a once-in-a-blue-moon type of situation. Some heads aren''t even familiar with the overall meaning of compensations.


    "It''s not that hard, really," Henri noted, walking back to his seat at the large table.


    "Really? You do trade in materials, you know," Beaugois said, finding this interesting.


    "A small price to pay," Henri replied, slightly dismissive.


    "I never really understood your relationship," another head remarked. "You and Kokoro¡­"


    Both Henri and Beaugois turned to see a woman Freya, She wore a simple linen tunic, its earthy brown color blending seamlessly with the natural tones of the land.


    The tunic was cinched at the waist with a worn leather belt,


    Over her shoulders, she draped a transformed into a richly decorated mantle, fastened with a modest iron brooch.


    simple tunic was now complemented by a gleaming chainmail shirt, each link catching the light and casting fleeting reflections.


    The leather vest she wore over it was adorned with metal studs.


    she smiles coily


    "Oh¡­" Henri murmured.


    "You were mocking him almost, and now you''re here sulking?" freya said in pure disbelief.


    "You wouldn''t understand," Henri replied.


    "Oh, I wouldn''t?" freya asked, laughing a bit, then turned her attention to the head who had first introduced himself at the start of the meeting.


    A man stood up, wearing armor similar to that of the Inca civilization. His outfit consisted of intricate gold-plated breastplates that gleamed under the light, feathered headdresses with vibrant colors of blue, green, and red, and an ornate ceremonial mask that covered the upper half of his face.


    The breastplates were adorned with detailed engravings of symbols and geometric patterns,


    "I have no say in this matter," the man said. His name was Inti Yupanqui.


    The woman slumped on the table, visibly bored, before turning to Bel-ibn. "What do you think of this incident?" she asked.


    Bel-ibn looked at freya for a moment in silence, his eyes distant, before responding. "I only care for my heir," he said, then added, "I am intrigued, as most of the other heads are, at the future state of the Takashiro family."


    "Who isn''t?" freya eplied.


    "A man dies, and you''re talking about his business?" Henri said, surprised.


    "Stop fooling around. Everyone can tell you''re also interested," another head said.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    This head wore a simple yet refined outfit inspired by the Greek civilization, consisting of a white chiton with a himation draped over his shoulder.


    His hair was short and curly, resembling the style of ancient Greek statues, and his sharp, calculating eyes suggested a personality that valued logic and strategy.


    "Oh?" Alphonse added, surprised at the man speaking up. "I thought you would remain silent throughout the entire meeting."


    "What are we going to do about Colard?" freya asked, tapping her cheek a bit.


    "He won''t wake up until after the meeting, probably," Ashur said, sighing slightly, as he had been near when Colard got hit.


    "How about the boys that Henri beat up?" Alphonse asked.


    "I didn''t beat them up; it was¡ª"


    "Discipline."


    "Yeah," Henri admitted, "I was just mad, is all. I didn''t hit them that hard. They''ll wake up soon," he finally said.


    Most heads didn''t seem to care, but Alphonse merely nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."


    Takashiro lay on the floor, unmoving and unconscious. Then the sage started speaking, interrupting the interaction between the heads, which was surprising, as most thought they wouldn''t even interact until after the meeting.


    The sage spoke without pause, trying to get the meeting out of the way instantly, it seemed.


    "Rule 4: After each wonder, return to the tower for the keeping of the materials. This is compulsory."


    "Rule 5: You are allowed to steal other people''s materials, unless they are in the stem."


    "Rule 6: Communication with the heads is prohibited."


    "Rule 7: Only use items after the quest begins. You cannot obtain items from the stem."


    "Rule 8: A translator will be present in each wonder, though you would have found out yourself. You can only use one translator per two wonders."


    "Rule 9: Double heirs¡ªif one dies, it''s an automatic loss."


    "What''s the point of sending two, then?" Henri muttered.


    Both Anna and Elara quivered where they stood, not wanting to think of the possibility.


    "Rule 10: You cannot stay in any civilized place in any wonder for more than four days."


    "Rule 11: When you enter a wonder, you cannot leave until the objective is found."


    "Rule 13: If an heir is caught conspiring with external forces, they and their guide will be banished from the quest, with no chance of return.


    "Rule 14: Heirs are forbidden from exchanging materials with each other unless done during a sanctioned trade event.


    "Rule 15: Any attempt to manipulate or alter the environment of a wonder will result in immediate expulsion from the quest.


    "Rule 16: Heirs must return all acquired materials to the tower before departing for another wonder; failure to do so will result in forfeiture of the materials and penalties for the next wonder.


    "What are this rules??" Ashur said, contrasting the voice.


    "Most of these rules are acceptable," Alphonse said.


    "No communication? That isn''t acceptable," Henri said, visibly mad at the rule. Whatever this sage was thinking, the heads had nothing they could do.


    "How are the rules?" Leonardo asked Anna as she walked back to her place, no longer fawning over her father. Alain also returned to the crowd, seeing that the fight had stopped¡ªreally fast, honestly.


    "Bad, but it''s manageable," she said.


    "We don''t even need to fight any demons!" Elara exclaimed. "It''s just an exploration quest at its core. Worst case scenario is fighting other heads," Anna said.


    "So we should go to a wonder where no heirs go?" Leonardo suggested, trying to pitch in ideas.


    "Yeah, I mean, technically," Anna said, then paused. "Do you remember the wonders Richard mentioned?" Anna asked.


    "Yeah," Leonardo replied. He had talked to Richard when they were sleeping on the couch.


    He then paused and looked at their outfits. "Your outfits¡­"


    "Don''t," was Elara''s response. Since the tower, they had only worn their tattered clothes from the explosion. Even Anna''s skirt looked like it was screaming for relief¡ªnot cut, just burned.


    "While yours seems like it was made an hour ago," Anna remarked.


    "You never did explain how it regenerates like that," Anna asked.


    "Ask the sage," was Leonardo''s reply.


    Both Elara and Leonardo started giggling a bit.


    "But I honestly don''t know; the tour guide gave it to me."


    "The tour guide gave it to you?" Elara asked, confused.


    "We really don''t know a lot about each other," Leonardo said, sighing a bit.


    "Back to the caf¨¦?" Anna asked.


    "You didn''t want to go there in the first place, remember?" Elara said.


    "I do not remember," Anna replied.


    "You''ll have to explain the ''clock'' to me," Leonardo said, referring to the floating text used to explain the hours.


    They both turned to him and sighed simultaneously.


    "Hey," Marquis said, joining the conversation and bumping into a few heirs on the way. "The sage will soon give the unwritten skills he promised." He seemed sad, trying his best not to recall the events of Ryuji killing his own father.


    "Yeah," they all said.


    He then turned to Leonardo and said, "I''m sorry for leaving earlier."


    "It''s okay."


    "Thanks."


    Then there was silence. The girls had only interacted with Marquis a few times in the stem, and it was countable even. This quest had been the time they actually talked a few times without political or influential reasons, or any other reasons than their free will.


    "So¡­ uh," Marquis tried to say.


    "Where''s your guide?" Anna asked flatly, breaking the awkward silence.


    "He''s not here," Marquis replied in a similar tone.


    Anna scoffed slightly. "Prick."


    "I heard that."


    "I don''t care."

 logic vs illogical

    "Unwritten skills," the voice announced, resonating through the grand hall like a ripple in a calm lake.


    The ambient noise of conversations and murmurings ceased instantly, replaced by an electric silence.


    Everyone who had been talking stopped, the unexpected announcement catching them off guard.


    The tension in the room grew palpable as the gravity of the situation began to sink in¡ªthese newly introduced skills had the potential to change the course of their lives, for better or worse.


    Anna''s eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the words, while beside her, Marquis shifted uneasily.


    She glanced at him and saw the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes, though masked beneath his usual bravado.


    "You''re being dramatic," Anna remarked, her tone laced with an edge of irritation as she turned toward Marquis.


    She could sense his anxiety, though he was doing a good job of hiding it from the others.


    "How am I so?" Marquis retorted, his voice rising a notch, betraying his nerves. He continued, "Most people here are going to get trash unwritten skills, and their slots are already limited. It''s like rolling dice with your life."


    Anna rolled her eyes. "Still, that doesn''t mean it''s life or death, Marquis.


    If I could get any skill¡ª" She paused, her mind racing with possibilities, then continued, "like your attachment skill, for example.


    I''m pretty sure I could use it well, even though it doesn''t complement my own."


    Marquis shook his head, his frustration mounting. "Still, learning two skills that don''t synergize well is incredibly hard.


    Not everyone is like you, Anna. You think it''s easy because you''re a natural. But look at Alain." He paused, his blood boiling as he remembered the laziness of their companion.


    He took a deep breath, forcing himself to cool down.


    "Alain wouldn''t even use that unwritten skill just because he''s lazy!"


    From across the room, Alain''s voice cut through the tension.


    "I heard that. And could y''all keep it down?" His tone was annoyed, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he noted how everyone was hearing their yelling, even the heads at the far end of the hall, who were now watching them with interest.


    Henri, observing the heated exchange from a distance, chuckled softly. "Our children are really fond of each other," he said, his voice tinged with humor.


    "Fond? Marquis looks ready to rip someone''s throat out," Alphonse replied, almost flabbergasted at how quickly Anna was getting under Marquis'' skin they used to be in-love no?


    He couldn''t help but shake his head in disbelief at the scene unfolding before them.


    "And Alain''s an exception!" Anna continued, her voice rising as she turned back to Marquis.


    "He won''t use it because he thinks his attachment skill is good enough¡ªnot that I know what it is, but his overall attitude points to that. Plus, you aren''t talking about the range of unwritten skills. Who''s to say someone won''t get a skill that''s miles different from their attachment skill?" Her words came out in a rush, her frustration with Marquis'' narrow-mindedness bubbling to the surface.


    "Why are you using me as an example?" Alain said in disbelief, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and resignation.


    He turned to Itami, who was seated beside him. "I''m waiting for Ryuji," he said coldly, his gaze unwavering as he stared at Ryuji''s slumped body. The atmosphere around him seemed to darken as he brooded, his thoughts far away from the commotion.


    "Just get him out of your head," Alain said, the tone of their conversation growing serious.


    His red eyes seemed to glow brighter, applying pressure on Itami with a silent intensity that made the other boy shift uncomfortably. Alain''s gaze was piercing, almost as if he could see through Itami''s very soul.


    Leonardo, who had been watching the exchange with growing interest, leaned closer to Elara.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Wow, they''re really going at it," he observed, his voice low so as not to attract attention.


    Anna and Marquis were still caught up in their, in the grand scheme of things, meatless argument, but to him, it seemed like something deeper was at play.


    Elara giggled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Even though this is technically their first time meeting," she remarked, clearly enjoying the drama unfolding before them.


    "Anna and Marquis, sitting in a tree¡ª" Elara tried to tease, her voice taking on a sing-song tone, but she was cut off by both of them simultaneously.


    "Shut it, will you?" Marquis snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation.


    "Elara!" Anna added, her voice sharp with exasperation.


    "That was mean," Elara sighed, her playful mood dampened by their curt responses. She turned away, her gaze drifting to the grand windows of the hall, where the last light of day was beginning to fade.


    The room seemed to grow darker, the shadows lengthening as the night crept in.


    "Elara," Leonardo began, his voice hesitant. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then continued, "how do you get better?"


    "What?" She replied, her voice tinged with confusion as she turned to look at him.


    "No, I mean... you were sad earlier, then¡ª" He struggled to find the right words, unsure of how to express his concern.


    "Ah, Dad was there," Elara interrupted, a soft smile playing on her lips as she thought of her father.


    "Figures," Leonardo said flatly, though there was an edge of warmth in his tone. He could tell that Elara''s father was a source of strength for her, someone who could lift her spirits even in the darkest of times.


    Elara giggled, then continued, "Dad means everything to me, you know. Mom too!" Her voice was filled with affection, and it was clear that her family was the cornerstone of her world.


    "Ronald..." Leonardo muttered, a tear escaping his eye as memories of his own family flooded his mind.


    He quickly wiped it away, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I can''t believe I miss that bloke," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he remembered the good times.


    "Family?" Elara asked, her voice softening as she recognized the sadness in his eyes.


    "Yeah," Leonardo replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his loss hung heavily in the air between them.


    Elara smiled sympathetically, her heart going out to him. She understood all too well the pain of missing someone you loved.


    As she glanced back at Anna and Marquis, she noticed that their voices had grown louder, their argument intensifying.


    "Do not underestimate me, you dip-shit!" Anna shouted, her frustration boiling over. She waved her hand in a familiar gesture, one that sent a ripple of Rasvian energy through the air, reminiscent of what she had done to Frederick on the train.


    The force of it sent Marquis crashing to the floor, face flat against the cold stone.


    "Anna... let go!" Marquis muttered, his voice muffled against the floor as he struggled to regain his composure.


    "Not until you apologize," Anna insisted, her voice steely as she took a step back, keeping her distance while maintaining control.


    "No!" Marquis muttered again, his pride refusing to let him give in so easily.


    "Anna," a new voice cut through the tension, drawing everyone''s attention. An heir stepped forward, her presence commanding the room.


    She wore a fitted gown with intricate geometric patterns inspired by the Ming Dynasty, paired with a tall, elegant headdress adorned with jade and pearl. Her attire radiated authority, a sharp contrast to the chaos around her.


    "Oh..." Anna paused, recognizing the girl immediately. The air in the room seemed to shift, the weight of her authority palpable.


    "Just stop it," the girl said, her voice calm yet firm, carrying a weight that made it clear she was not to be ignored.


    "No, he did it on purpose. He''s a nosejob!" Anna exclaimed, her frustration boiling over once more.


    "Marquis won''t say sorr¡ª" the girl began, only to be interrupted by Marquis.


    "I''m sorry," Marquis finally admitted, his voice quiet but sincere. The shock of his admission hung in the air, leaving both girls momentarily speechless.


    "I was about to go on a monologue about how big of a prick you are," the girl said, her tone lightening as she processed his unexpected apology.


    "Well, I''m sorry. Now, let me go," Marquis replied, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice as he dusted himself off.


    "Fine," Anna relented, releasing her hold on him and stepping back.


    "That was something. I didn''t expect Marquis to apologize," the girl said, her tone still tinged with disbelief as she watched Marquis slowly rise to his feet.


    "Who are you again?" Marquis asked, his voice flat as he turned to face her.


    "Who is she?" Leonardo asked, noting her sense of superiority, which was incredibly surprising for an heir¡ªthe kind of power you would expect only from a head.


    "That''s Mei-Ling," Elara said, her voice tinged with a mix of respect and familiarity.


    "Or you could call her my best friend," Elara added, only for Anna to tersely reply, "Our best friend."


    "Sure, sure," Elara conceded with a roll of her eyes, though her smile remained.


    "Oh, okay!" Leonardo said, his mood lifting as he walked over to Mei-Ling with a cheery demeanor. "I''m Leonardo," he said, trying to sound as professional as possible.


    "I''m¡ª" Mei-Ling started, then stopped herself. "You already know it," she finished with a smirk.


    "Well, yeah," Leonardo replied, slightly embarrassed but smiling nonetheless.


    "Why pick him as your guide?" Mei-Ling asked Anna and Elara, her tone curious as she gestured toward Leonardo.


    "He was cute," Elara said with a mischievous grin, gesturing at his height.


    "He''s interesting, plus his height," Anna added with a laugh, joining in on the teasing.


    "Why''d you accept being their guide, knowing this?" Mei-Ling asked, turning her sharp gaze to Leonardo.


    "Why are you questioning him?" Marquis tried to interject, but Leonardo quickly responded, cutting him off.


    "I had time," Leonardo replied, his voice steady.


    "You have time?" Mei-Ling repeated, her tone laced with skepticism.


    "Had," Leonardo corrected, his voice softening.


    "Funny, the quest has no official ending date, you know," Mei-Ling remarked, her eyes narrowing as she studied him more closely.


    "That''s where it gets complicated," Leonardo admitted, a flicker of unease crossing his face.


    "You can just leave, you know?" Mei-Ling said, her tone suddenly taking on a more serious note.


    As she spoke, her guide suddenly appeared beside her. He was tall and muscular, with a fierce look that made him seem like a guardian from another era.


    His golden lion''s mane headdress and sharp, claw-like gauntlets gave him the appearance of a human-lion hybrid, a figure both awe-inspiring and intimidating.


    Elara shifted uncomfortably at those words, her smile fading.


    "That''s enough," Marquis said, stepping forward protectively, his eyes locked on Mei-Ling''s guide.


    "Unwritten skills ready for distribution," the voice that filled the hall announced, cutting through the tension like a knife.


    "Finally," Anna said, her voice filled with a mix of relief and anticipation as the moment they had all been waiting for finally arrived.

 Tyrsson

    "The kids are getting along," the woman remarked, her voice tinged with a bored indifference as she observed the group.


    "I mean, technically, yes," Henri responded, glancing over at the unfolding scene. He wasn''t surprised by his daughter''s behavior toward Marquis, but something in the woman''s tone made him turn to face her directly.


    "What are your intentions?" he asked, sensing an unusual familiarity in her demeanor.


    "What? Are you really about to break decades of friendship over that?" she replied, a mocking tone lacing her words.


    Henri raised an eyebrow. "Why are you getting defensive?"


    She shrugged, her tone flattening out. "I''m joking."


    Before Henri could press further, Ashur''s deep voice cut through the conversation. "Colan''s waking up."


    "That was surely fast," Sir Eadric commented, though his observation was met with a stern rebuttal from Beaugois.


    "No it wasnt" Beaugois replied strictly, his eyes narrowing at Sir Eadric.


    "You!" Sir Eadric began slowly, but Beaugois interrupted with a short laugh. "Hah!"


    Colan stirred, his voice carrying an odd tone, almost as if he were faking his usual accent. "Ah, what happened?"


    Before anyone could respond, the voice from above announced, "Unwritten skills are about to be given. Heirs, line up in a queue from shortest to tallest for most stability."


    The heads, now fully interested in the unwritten skills, started looking around for the shortest heir. All eyes eventually landed on the same person.


    "It''s your daughters'' guide," Ashur pointed out, making the other heads instantly shift their focus.


    "He really is short," Sir Eadric said, gesturing with his hand to approximate Leonardo''s height compared to his own.


    "Why pick such a small boy?" Alphonse asked, genuinely puzzled.


    "He... really... is... short," Bel-ibni said slowly, his voice carrying an eerie note that made most of the heads uneasy.


    "Uh huh," the woman from earlier murmured, her tone carrying a hint of discomfort.


    The voice filled the room again, this time directed at the short figure. "State your name."


    Henri sighed. "Is that really necessary?"


    "Maybe, maybe not," Alphonse replied with a nonchalant shrug.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Uh... Leonardo, Leonardo Thatcher," the boy said, his voice trembling slightly.


    "Ever heard of any Thatchers before?" Alphonse asked Henri.


    "Not really. We can''t have any influence in the choosing of the guides, remember?" Henri replied, shaking his head.


    "Right."


    The room, already dimly lit and almost mimicking the dark abyss outside the hall, began to glow with a cyan blue light. The floor beneath Leonardo''s feet started to shine that same hue, illuminating his small form.


    "I don''t want an unwritten skill," Leonardo suddenly


    "What?" The voice asked in pure confusion.


    "Huh?" Henri said in disbelief, his face a mask of shock.


    Alphonse, despite initially hoping his own son Marquis would deny the request, didn''t expect anyone else to do so, let alone a guide.


    Ashur, looking puzzled at first, then burst into loud laughter. "Your daughters picked a good guide regardless of his height," he said, his amusement clear.


    "That''s mildly surprising," the woman from earlier remarked, her surprise evident.


    "Why?" the voice asked with genuine interest.


    "Well, the to¡ª" Leonardo began, his stutter noticeable throughout the hall. Laughter erupted from the back, anticipating a fallout.


    "Never mind, move out of the way," the voice said flatly, causing a wave of shock among everyone in the room.


    "Huh?" Anna said, visibly flabbergasted.


    The next person, a girl, stepped forward. A spiral of blue light appeared beneath her feet, enveloping her entire body in a warm, radiant glow.


    It was as if the sun itself had descended to touch her, the light bathing her in a soft, golden hue that mirrored the warmth of Leonardo''s own skin under the intense light.


    As she floated down, the girl''s attire was strikingly reflective of her vibrant and confident personality.


    She wore a richly decorated tunic made of fine, brightly colored fabric, reminiscent of Andean textiles.


    The tunic featured intricate embroidery with patterns symbolizing her heritage and status.


    Over this, she had a flowing cloak adorned with geometric designs and fringed edges, adding a touch of grandeur.


    Her sandals were delicate yet sturdy, with intricate metalwork showcasing both elegance and practicality.


    She walked over to Leonardo with a confident stride, her glowing presence leaving a subtle trail of light. "I''m Aymara," she introduced herself,


    "Im Leonard¡ª" he tried to say before she interrupted, "Leonardo."


    "Why didn''t you accept the unwritten skill?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. Most heirs were stunned by the audacity of denying something from the sage, which was considered unthinkable.


    "No reason," he replied flatly.


    "You can tell me."


    "I don''t know you."


    "I do though."


    "What?"


    "Leonardo Thatcher."


    "I said that."


    Leonardo, feeling uncomfortable, tried to distance himself as Aymara''s deep yellow eyes grew even larger, almost mesmerically.


    "Ah, I''m joking," she said with a small huff, then continued, "You really are short," gesturing to emphasize the height difference, though she was only half an inch taller.


    "Ah, yeah..." Leonardo responded, his voice barely audible.


    "The others are almost done!" Aymara said cheerfully.


    "What did you get?" Leonardo asked, genuinely curious.


    "Well, you should have just gotten your own if you wanted to know," she replied with a cheeky smile.


    "You are right," Leonardo replied flatly.


    "You''re getting dry," the girl observed, puzzled by the sudden shift in tone.


    "I know," Leonardo said, his voice distant.


    Elara, who stood at 5''8", a sharp contrast to her sister Anna''s 5''6", was already positioned closer to the end of the room, wary of the monsters lurking further back.


    One of the monsters caught Leonardo''s attention. "Who is that huge guy?" he asked, genuinely confused by the imposing figure.


    "That''s trysson ," Aymara explained. "He''s definitely the strongest I think"


    Leonardo watched the massive figure standing at the back of the line, his eyes widening in awe.


    The man¡ªif you could even call him that¡ªwas a giant among the others. His presence was as imposing as a mountain, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.


    The giant, known as Tyrsson, Standing at an impressive height[10''3] His skin, tanned by the unforgiving winds and sun of his homeland, was a deep bronze,


    The tunic was adorned with intricate patterns, etched into the leather using ancient techniques passed down through generations.


    Around his massive arms and legs, Tyrsson wore metal bands,


    His hair, thick and wild, was a deep chestnut brown, cascading down his back like a lion''s mane. It was kept in check by a simple leather strap,


    Tyrsson''s eyes were a striking contrast to his rugged appearance. They were a piercing ice blue, a color that seemed almost unnatural against his dark skin and hair.

 Aymara

    "He''s huge" leonardo says in disbelief.


    For some reason, he finds it easier to talk to this girl than he does with Anna or Elara.


    "How much does a butler get paid?"


    "about 40k draws," aymara says after looking at her fingers for a bit. "My family actually deals in finance," she adds with a pursed tone.


    "Uh huh, thanks."


    "How''d you become their guide?" Aymara asks.


    "Why are you asking me this?" Leonardo replies, visibly confused.


    "To be honest, I really don''t know," she says, then continues, "You denying the sage''s request is more interesting."


    "How so?" Leonardo replies.


    A boy arrives, clearly ecstatic after receiving his unwritten skill. His outfit, a mix of ceremonial and practical, consists of a richly embroidered robe in deep blue and gold, reflecting his elevated status and excitement.


    He wears a finely crafted belt with symbolic embellishments and carries a staff topped with a crystal, happy at his newfound skill.


    "Is that a wizard?"


    "Yeah I suppose so"


    "Can you explain all that for me, wizards and the bunch?"


    "I feel tired," the Aymara says.


    "I do not," Leonardo adds.


    Leonardo glances at aymara, clicking his tongue in frustration. He finds her peculiar and wants the conversation to end.


    She turns slightly, and her intense gaze seems to draw him in. Her eyes, shimmering with an almost hypnotic quality, make him uneasy.


    "Argh!" Leonardo screams in shock. "What was that for?" he asks in pure confusion, as the girl simply says, "Joking."


    Leonardo is extremely unsettled by how the girl can shift her eyes and ask questions that seem both strange and spot-on at the same time.


    It''s Anna''s turn. "State your name," the voice says coolly, sending shivers down Leonardo''s spine from where he stands, the constant blue light casting eerie shadows on his face.


    "Anna de Meaux," Anna says her full name, in a voice that sounds different from the one Leonardo is used to hearing.


    She rises as the blue light envelops her, creating a striking visual effect as if she is being lifted by an ethereal force.


    "Hm," Henri says, anxious for his daughter''s safety.


    Anna lands slowly with a small thud. "That was magnificent ," she says as she looks at the floor.


    "Is she looking at her text?" Leonardo wonders, curious if all the texts are similar to his. She pauses, sighs a little, and continues walking towards Leonardo with the girl still next to them.


    "Leonardo," she says.


    "Anna."


    "And?"


    "Aymara ," she replies coolly.


    "Thanks."


    "So, uh," Leonardo shifts his gaze from the girl to Anna, his face moving from confusion to a more familiar expression of meeting friends.


    "How was it?"


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "It felt surreal, like I was plunged into a large body of water and seemed to be drowning for a few seconds before I was helped up," she says, gesturing toward her hand as if someone had gripped it and raised her in a single swoop. "I wasn''t able to scream¡ªI think I did.


    They dipped their hands in the ocean¡ªah, it''s confusing, but it was deep. I felt like a rat in a bucket," she pauses, "I loved it. They saved me practically."


    Leonardo pays attention to every detail. "Maybe I should''ve just accepted," he says, laughing a bit.


    But he knows he shouldn''t; he needs to communicate with the tour guide about anything. The tour guide said two months, and he doubts they will finish in that time.


    "Yeah¡­" Anna replies, showing signs of awkwardness as the girl watches them silently.


    "I didn''t seem to get your name¡­" Anna replies, attempting to start a conversation.


    "You didn''t hear me say it?" the girl replies.


    Even Anna seems to be getting incredibly embarrassed.


    "So, Leonardo. Uh, why didn''t you want to get an unwritten skill?" she asks, then continues, "Don''t tell me you believed what Marquis said¡ª that guy doesn''t have a single brain cell!" She says, palming her face.


    "Uh, no. I felt like the tour guide wouldn''t allow me. He told me to wander if I remember right, not go into things with the sage," was Leonardo''s response.


    "You''re a tour guide?" the girl asks, interest piqued even more.


    "Oh, what makes you say that? The sages and tour guides have a good relationship in the history books," he responds.


    "Maybe I made a bad mistake," he says, sounding unsure.


    They both ignore the girl, acting as if she were a mere ghost in the dimly lit hall, which is continuously illuminated by the blue light.


    "Your daughter is done," Alphonse says to Henri.


    "Your son isn''t," Henri replies.


    "The church," Alphonse then says.


    "Not that again. I said I''m not signing it," Henri says, visibly tired of the question.


    "Most heads did. It will help the tower, Henri. I didn''t want to bring it up because of ''unexpected events,'' but now is the right time, with the sage and the heirs busy accusing their unwritten skills."


    "You mentioned it before, using the few times we meet for business talk," Henri''s eyes go pale. "I will not be signing that sheet."


    "You''re simply minded, Henri."


    "So are you, Al-phon-se," he says, emphasizing the separation of the names.


    Elara''s turn arrives. "State your name," the voice commands.


    "Elara de Meaux," she says with anticipation.


    She rises slowly, her ascent markedly different from Anna''s. The blue light wraps around her body with a more gradual and elegant flow, almost like a curtain of shimmering waves.


    As the light envelops her, it forms intricate patterns, highlighting her tall, poised figure. She reaches the height of the light''s embrace, which then slowly recedes, allowing her to descend gracefully.


    Her landing is soft and controlled, signifying a balance between strength and grace.


    Marquis stands a few persons away, watching the proceedings with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.


    She lands with grace,


    "Hahaha, elara seems taugth to land like that" Leonardo says unable to contain her laugh, unlike


    "Yeah I suppose so" Anna giggling too,


    "That was amazing, I want to get another unwritten skill again,"


    "Well how was it?"


    "It felt like I was falling, the breeze on my skin, then I got saved by someone, I think they wore white, they looked at me, I mean I couldn''t see his face but I think its male, he saved me from falling and dropped me off at the base of the tower, it felt as it he was faster than the right star too!"


    "Huh so people experiences it different" Leonardo pauses, "if I did it, I would''ve been the king of an empire no kingdom, and we would be in a war with another kingdom, and that guy would come and save us, which would make the people like him, wait..," he pauses, "no that-"


    "Dumb" Anna finishes his sentence for him


    "Yeah and jinx, almost" he says


    "Yeah sure jinx" she mutters


    "Well its uh, whats the right word"


    "Fascinating" the girl says


    "Uh yeah and you are?" Elara say, bending down to match the girls height, already knowing of the girls pretense but not acting on it sensing both Leonardo and Annas tone


    She smiles in a polite tone shifting her gaze to both Leonardo and Anna, who are moving their hands in a gesture of no, don''t, do not. INTERACT.


    "Huh?" Elara says confusion laced in her face


    Elara turning her gaze back to the girl who is looking at her with her usual big eyes


    "Oh" she finally realizes,


    "So what skill did you get?" Elara asked Anna, excitement evident in her voice, the question sparked something in Leonardos head, something he''s been meaning to ask


    "Oh yeah, don''t you think we should tell each other our skills?"


    "Yeah.. not here though" Anna replies, acknowledging Leonardos question


    The girl for some reason dosent move but stays silent.


    "You forgot me?" She says toward both Anna and elara


    "What?" Elara replies in pure confusion


    "How could you!, I came to your house 7 years ago!!" She then says her saddened moves slowly shifts to anger as Elara tries her best to suite her, acting as she''s an ordinary child


    "Don''t!" She says turning to walk away


    "That was interesting" Anna says


    "Yeah.." Replied Leonardo


    She seems to be moving towards her guide, who is a male, their outfits contradicts each other fully,


    but not easily visible as light is very scarce in the hall.


    "Everything seems alright" sir Eadric says noting how the heirs collect their unwritten skills and move on without any conflict

 Prodigy

    Most heirs moved quickly through the process, floating and falling back to the ground with ease.


    Alain was next, his unusual red eyes that bore no resemblance to his father seemed to lose their distant color as the blue light washed over him.


    A bead of sweat formed on his brow, his muscles tensing involuntarily. The light seemed to penetrate deeper, reaching something within him that caused him to wince in pain.


    "What''s happening?" Leonardo asked, his voice tight with concern as he noticed Alain''s struggle. "I don''t know," Anna replied, her eyes wide with shock. "The others went through so quickly, but Alain... it''s like something''s wrong."


    Alain''s breaths grew shallow, and his face contorted as if he were resisting something. Yet, just as suddenly as it began, the light released him, and he fell back to the ground, walking off as if nothing had happened.


    The other heirs, preoccupied with their new skills under the guidance of their guide, paid no attention to Alain''s minor cries.


    However, Marquis, who stood only a few people away from Alain, couldn''t ignore what he was witnessing.


    "Is he okay?" Marquis mused aloud, his concern genuine despite their differences. They may not have liked each other much, but Marquis couldn''t stand to see anyone in pain.


    Finally, Alain fell back to the ground, shivering for a bit and walked away as if nothing had happened.


    "What did you do?" Henri demanded, his anger quickly reigniting as he turned toward Beaugois.


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," Beaugois replied in a blank tone, clearly unbothered by Henri''s outburst.


    "You need to learn to mind your own business," a younger boy chimed in unexpectedly. He looked younger than most of the other heirs around him, his expression calm but firm.


    He wears a flowing robe made of finely woven fabric, dyed in deep indigo and gold, colors that represent wisdom and power in his culture.


    On his head, he wears a modest headdress crafted from woven reeds and adorned with bright feathers in shades of turquoise and crimson.


    Around his neck is a necklace made of carved jade stones, he hold it.


    His wrists are adorned with gold bangles that jingle softly as he moves, each inscribed with protective runes from tradition


    He wears simple sandals made from soft leather, laced with cords that wrap around his ankles. The sandals are designed for agility and comfort, reflecting the boy''s practical nature


    "You dare speak? Zorion" Henri shot back, his voice laced with disdain.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    If this quest had taken place at least 20 years ago, Zorion would be a mere heir, Henri might have responded differently, but now, Zorion simply leaned back in his chair, uninterested in further conflict.


    Freya, unable to contain her amusement, burst out laughing. "Hahaha! You''re going to end up like your wife soon!" she jeered.


    Most of the room was silent, the darkness masking their presence completely.


    For some reason, Henri was the only one bathed in light, while even Alphonse, with his shimmering blue hair, and some of the jewels they wear, was shadowed. Were they always like that? Henri wondered to himself.


    He sat at the furthest chair away.


    Henri scoffed, turning his attention back to the heirs receiving their unwritten skills. Only a few more stood in front of Trysson now.


    "Anna, Elara," Mei-Ling called out as she approached them, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp.


    Her guide stood at the queue for the unwritten skills, waiting patiently."Mei!" Elara exclaimed, her face lighting up with happiness at the sight of her best friend.


    "I wanted to ask where you all plan to go after the meeting," Mei-Ling inquired, her tone polite but distant."I''m not really sure," Anna replied thoughtfully.


    "We''re going to discuss it with Father first."


    "Alright then," Mei-Ling said flatly. Her gaze shifted to Leonardo, and her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression turning cold. Leonardo felt a pang of confusion¡ªhe had thought he made a good impression on her.


    As she walked away, Leonardo''s thoughts churned. "I always hated royals," he thought bitterly.


    "They sit high and expect everything to go their way. Why does she look at me like that?"He lingered behind Anna and Elara as they continued to chat with Mei-Ling, his mind preoccupied. "It''s ironic," he mused, "being called the same thing I hate..."


    "I always hated royals..." Leonardo thought to himself. "They sit high and expect everything to go their way."


    As Anna and Elara continued to converse with Mei-Ling, Leonardo couldn''t help but think, "It''s funny how I''m called the same thing I hate." He watched from behind them as it became Marquis''s turn.


    "Did I really hate the guide?" he pondered. "Or was it the way they acted?"


    As Marquis floated above the ground, Leonardo''s amber eyes dilated, struggling to focus. "Maybe it''s the way they acted," he repeated, his mind wandering. "The cave, Agnite... They acted high and mighty, yes..."


    He hit his head lightly, frustrated with how easily he''d forgotten. He sighed deeply.


    "Leonardo!" Anna''s voice snapped him back to reality.


    "Realm to Ghent," Elara added with a giggle.


    "Was he daydreaming?" Mei-Ling asked, her tone puzzled. It seemed they had been calling his name multiple times.


    Leonardo''s amber eyes refocused as he returned to the present moment. "He''s back," Anna said with relief.


    "What happened?" Elara asked, her tone sincere this time.


    "Ah, I was just thinking about stuff," Leonardo replied, laughing it off as he stepped forward, watching Marquis''s display.


    Compared to everyone else, Marquis''s performance was extraordinary. He rose gracefully, the elements seeming to favor him, with tiny lights swirling around him, unlike anything anyone had seen before.


    His hair floated ethereally, and his entire outfit seemed to defy gravity, fluttering as if it could fly on its own. When he finally landed, it was almost angelic, as if the very space around him made way for his presence.


    "Interesting..." a voice echoed, genuinely intrigued.


    Next, Ryuji floated from the floor, even though he had fainted earlier. Then came Adad, Itami, Mei-Ling''s guide, and a few other notable figures. Finally, it was Trysson''s turn.


    "Everything is complete," the voice declared, its sound vibrating through the entire room. "The meeting is officially over."


    "Finally," Beaugois muttered, stretching his back in annoyance.


    "Even the translator seems to break sometimes," Ashur commented, glancing at his hand.


    "You all wouldn''t survive with my accent!" Freya said, laughing.


    "My accent is still here," Sir Eadric added, trying to justify himself.


    "Maybe go back to your roots," Inti suggested.


    Alphonse and most of the heirs began to scatter, their previously organized crowd now dissolving into chaos.


    Marquis walked over to the girls.


    "Marquis," Leonardo called out.


    "Now we can introduce ourselves properly," Marquis said with a smile.

 Xalatl

    Yeah," Leonardo replies stately, as the gates open on their own. Heirs start leaving slowly, with Alain first, walking alongside Itami.


    They seem to be talking about something, perhaps their destination, as Alain shakes his head sideways every time Itami mutters something.


    The heads, however, don''t leave yet, seemingly caught up in their own problems.


    "That was the heirs'' meeting¡ªnow it''s time for yours," the voice announces before the gates leading towards the halls close.


    Anna walks over to Leonardo, matching his seemingly slow pace. "Leonardo, we''ll take the lift to the 1,307th floor; that''s where we stay, alright?"


    "I still can''t imagine the size of this," he says, looking beneath his feet.


    Thousands, hundreds of thousands of people are beneath him at this moment, each going on with their lives, accustomed to the extremely crafted medical houses and other structures.


    "I''m on top of every one of them right now," he says slowly, a hint of awe in his voice.


    "Uh yeah, we''ll have to do it soon. We have only a single year, you know," Anna says, increasing her speed as she begins walking over to Elara, who was chatting with Mei-Ling.


    "So, now''s the time," Marquis says, who had been by Leonardo''s side this entire time, keeping quiet.


    Anna and he saw each other but didn''t exchange pleasantries, the tension between them palpable. They really seem to hate each other.


    "I suppose so."


    "We talked after the incident."


    "Yeah, you saved the people at the train, all by yourself," Leonardo says.


    "You''re making me sound like a hero," Marquis replies, laughing a bit as he puts his hands in his sweater''s pockets.


    "You aren''t?" Leonardo asks, confusion stiffening his face.


    "No," was Marquis''s reply.


    "How old are you again?" Leonardo tries to ask before being interrupted.


    "You sound like Anna."


    Chandeliers hang from the tall ceilings, made from crystal and gold, that shine their amazing orange light onto the heirs, indescribable against the shadowed hall. The chandeliers are designed with cascading tiers, each tier holding countless candles that flicker with a warm, almost otherworldly light.


    The flames dance as if alive, their glow reflecting off the polished surfaces and filling the corridors with a golden hue.


    "I''m 17," Marquis finally says.


    As they walk through the luxurious carpets, muffling the sound of footsteps and adding a sense of tranquility to the otherwise imposing structure, the atmosphere grows more introspective.


    Paintings line the walls, each one a masterpiece, depicting the noble families of the realm¡ªformer heads, their faces captured in moments of triumph or sorrow.


    Others show fantastical landscapes that stretch the imagination: fields of suns, mountains floating in the void of space, and cities built upon clouds.


    The frames of these paintings are gilded, their surfaces etched with runes that seem to shift and change when viewed from different angles, adding an air of mystique to the already enchanted setting.


    "That should''ve been obvious," Leonardo replies, holding his chin in a sign of deep thought.


    "How so?" Marquis asks, clearly interested.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "I don''t know, you and Anna are kinda similar. Ryuji too."


    "We are not in any way similar, Leonardo," Marquis says, his tone deepening as anger slowly fuels his voice. "He killed his father. No... he killed someone. No life should be taken, no matter what."


    Marquis''s voice trembles slightly as he speaks, revealing the inner conflict that his composed exterior masks, the golden light casting long shadows that flicker as if they''re alive, reflecting the turmoil in Marquis''s thoughts.


    "Ever since I came here, I''ve only seen death. Why do people kill so easily?" Leonardo responds voice is low, almost a whisper, as if the words are too heavy to speak aloud. "I must change that. Leonardo, I will be sparse with you¡ªI don''t think you will survive." Marquis then says.


    Leonardo is momentarily taken aback by Marquis''s bluntness but then nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation.


    "I accepted it because I had spare time with me. I don''t know if I may be able to complete it with them," he says, almost agreeing with Marquis''s words, which prompts Marquis to try and say something in turn.


    "But as long as I stay with them, I''ll do everything in my power," Leonardo says, his amber eyes sparking up, blending deeply with his brown skin. His determination shines through, and the flickering candlelight seems to reflect that inner fire.


    "that was uh..." marquis pauses then continues


    "You have time? You do know this quest can go on for decades, right?" Marquis retorts, utterly confused by Leonardo''s reply.


    "I really don''t know until the tour guide, sir, is back," Leonardo says, increasing his pace as they reach the lift, which stays attached to the wall like a massive, gilded cage ready to descend.


    "Tour guide¡ª?" Marquis begins to ask, trying to match Leonardo''s pace.


    "I can''t wait to see the stars," Leonardo says cheerily, a stark contrast to the tension that had just filled the conversation.


    "You''re really confusing, you know," Marquis responds, shaking his head slightly, both exasperated and intrigued by Leonardo''s unpredictable nature.


    In the orange glow of the chamber,a figure walked with Aymara seeming to be her guide, his presence as imposing as the black void surrounding him.


    Draped in the traditional garb similar Zanith civilization, his outfit was a solemn testament to his rank and purpose. A flowing black robe, edged with silver embroidery, cascaded over his form, shrouding him in a veil of reverence and authority. Two intricately crafted crosses adorned the chest,


    His face was completely obscured by a veil of glimmering chainmail, meticulously crafted to fall from his crown to his shoulders, concealing his identity and adding an aura of mystique.


    The veil''s small, interlinked rings caught the light, creating a halo effect around his shrouded visage.


    In his gloved hands, he held a mighty sword, reflecting nothing but the glow of the chamber.


    This was Xalatl, , his every movement echoing the weight of the ancient wisdom he carried and the fierce resolve of the warriors who came before him.


    Leonardo hesitated for a moment, his words caught in his throat as the towering figure passed by him.


    "Aymara..." he managed to murmur, catching her retreating figure out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the imposing presence before him.


    The figure halted, his movements precise and deliberate, like a predator assessing its prey.


    The chainmail veil shifted slightly as he turned, his face still obscured, but there was an unmistakable weight in his gaze.


    "Oh, sorry," Leonardo stammered, feeling the words tumble out clumsily. "I didn''t mean to make her sad, she was just¡ª"


    "creepy" Anna says talking to both Elara and Mei-ling,


    "what are the chances" Leonardo though


    The figure raised a hand, silencing Leonardo with a gesture that was both gentle and commanding. "It''s alright," he said, his voice deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder. "I''ll deal with it. I''m Xalatl."


    He extended his hand toward Leonardo, his gloved fingers wrapped in the dark leather of his gauntlet.


    Leonardo hesitated only a moment before reaching out, feeling the cool firmness of Xalatl''s grip. The touch was brief, yet it conveyed a strange sense of finality, as though the exchange was part of some unspoken ritual.


    "Leonardo," he said, his voice almost a whisper as he introduced himself, though it felt inadequate in the presence of such an enigmatic figure.


    Xalatl''s attention then shifted to Marquis, who stood a step behind Leonardo.


    Without a word, Marquis extended his hand, which Xalatl took with the same measured grace. Marquis, usually unflappable, seemed to pause as their hands met.


    Leonardo couldn''t help but notice the height difference. Xalatl towered over him, which wasn''t surprising¡ªLeonardo was painfully aware of his own short stature¡ªbut what struck him was how Xalatl dwarfed Marquis, who was a solid 5''11". The contrast made Xalatl appear even more imposing, a giant among men. [6''4]


    As their hands parted, there was a brief silence, a pause where the air seemed to thicken with unspoken understanding.


    Xalatl offered a slight nod, a gesture that was almost imperceptible, before turning to leave. His departure was as silent as his arrival, the faint clinking of his chainmail the only sound that lingered in the air.


    Leonardo watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of relief and curiosity.


    There was something about Xalatl that stirred a deep unease within him, a sense that this was a man who carried the weight of countless secrets.


    "Well, he seems kind," Marquis said, breaking the silence and pulling Leonardo back to the present.


    His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, as though he was still processing the encounter.


    "Yeah..." Leonardo replied, his voice trailing off as he tried to shake off the lingering thoughts. The image of Xalatl, veiled and mysterious, remained etched in his mind.


    Marquis snapped his fingers in front of Leonardo''s face, a light-hearted attempt to jolt him out of his reverie. "Hey, let''s not get lost in thought now. The lift"


    Leonardo blinked, nodding as he forced himself to focus. "Right, let''s go." But as they walked away, he couldn''t help but try to look further, half-expecting to see Xalatl''s imposing figure still standing there, a silent sentinel watching over them.

 Speed

    As they both stepped into the lift, the room was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, unsimilar to the one of the halls they once came from the walls made of transparent, condensed rasvian energy.


    It was like being in the heart of a crystal, the stars beyond twinkling brightly in the vast expanse of space, closer than they had ever seemed before. The sight of countless stars, each one a burning beacon in the dark, filled Leonardo with awe.


    "I still can''t wrap my head around the fact that all those are stars," Leonardo murmured, drawn to the edge of the room where the universe seemed to stretch out infinitely. The vastness of it all made him feel both small and immensely curious.


    "They built this so fast," Marquis responded, marveling at the construction around them.


    The lift itself was an engineering marvel, a testament to the abilities of the sages who commanded the energy that powered their world.


    "For whatever reason I didnt see it when leaving the tower" he said slowly


    As they stood there, Leonardo''s thoughts drifted to the others. "Anna and Elara stayed with Mei Ling, right?" he asked, remembering the others who had been part of their group.


    Mei Ling''s presence was always noticeable, her guide''s figure always a constant in their company, his golden mane gleaming under the artificial light of the lift.


    Her guide was something out of a myth¡ªa human-lion hybrid whose golden lion''s mane headdress cascaded down his back, nearly reaching the floor.


    His eyes, sharp and feral, glinted under the light, and the sharp, claw-like gauntlets he wore added to the aura of danger that surrounded him.


    He was a figure that demanded attention and respect, both terrifying and intimidating, a protector of whatever place he came from.


    Leonardo''s attention shifted again, searching the room as if looking for someone in particular. Marquis noticed his distraction and offered, "Ryuji is with Wata."


    "You call him Wata too?" Leonardo asked, surprised by the familiarity.


    "Yeah, it''s easier to remember," Marquis said with a shrug. "That''s what I thought too, but Takashiro didn''t allow me to call him by a shorter name."[Leonardo]


    Leonardo chuckled lightly, though it didn''t reach his eyes. "Yeah, he''s really single-minded."[marquis]


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    Marquis''s gaze drifted across the room to where Ryuji was resting, his body still as stone.


    Wata stood nearby, always a few feet away, his watchful eyes never straying from Ryuji. "That guy is still gripping his sword," Marquis muttered, noting the tight grip Ryuji still had on the hilt of his weapon.


    Ever since Henri had struck him and Ryuji had fainted, his hand hadn''t left the sheath of his sword, not even during the ceremony where the unwritten skills¡ªwhat the sages liked to call "blessings"¡ªwere handed out.


    "Leonardo," Marquis began, his tone shifting to one of concern, "why didn''t you accept the unwritten skill? I know I talked about the disadvantages, but¡­" Marquis closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to block out the swirl of emotions. He waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder.


    "The tour guide wouldn''t accept it, I think," Leonardo said, his voice distant as he looked back at the stars, their light reflecting in his amber eyes like tiny fragments of lost hopes. "But it''s still a maybe¡­ I maybe should''ve gotten it," he added, his voice tinged with regret. "Argh, I should''ve¡ª"


    Marquis interrupted him, his curiosity piqued. "Tour guide? What do you mean?" There was confusion in his tone, laced with a hint of concern.


    Leonardo hesitated, feeling the weight of what he was about to reveal. "I just got the job¡­ Tour Guide Practical Officer," he said, t


    "Huh?" Marquis responded, his confusion deepening. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of Leonardo''s words. "What are you talking about? That doesn''t make any sense."


    Before Leonardo could explain further, a familiar voice broke through their conversation. "Get ready, the lift is about to descend!"


    Leonardo turned sharply, his heart lifting as he recognized the voice. "Hector!" he exclaimed, visibly excited to see him.


    There was something about Hector that always made Leonardo feel at ease, as if there was an unspoken bond between them.


    Hector smiled, his presence a welcome relief in the tension-filled room. "Haha, how are you?" he asked, turning his attention to Marquis.


    The warmth of the room seemed to evaporate in an instant as Marquis''s expression darkened.


    His eyes narrowed, a shadow of sternness replacing the earlier warmth. He fixed his gaze on Leonardo with a gravity that was hard to ignore.


    "Leonardo¡­ let''s not change the topic again, alright?" Marquis said calmly, though the tension in his voice was palpable. "Could you excuse us, sir?" he added, turning to Hector with a firm but sincere tone.


    Hector looked taken aback but nodded, sensing the shift in atmosphere. "Well, sure but¡ª"


    "Leave," Marquis interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument.


    Hector''s face flushed slightly with embarrassment as he muttered, "Well, I''ll take my leave now!" He quickly made his exit,


    Leonardo, bewildered, stared at Marquis. "What was that for?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and irritation.


    Marquis''s gaze softened just a fraction, but the intensity of the moment remained. "Back to the topic of the tour guide," he said, his voice steady.


    "What about it?" Leonardo responded, his mind racing. He had kept the news of him coming from beneath the museum . He hadn''t even fully processed the gravity of it himself. I mentioned I got chosen, but¡ª


    I didn''t tell Anna or Elara. Should I? Could I?


    Marquis watched him with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Leonardo, this is not just about you. the thought of another tour guide"


    Leonardo''s thoughts churned, tangled in confusion and disbelief. The thought of another tour guide¡­ someone from beneath the museum¡­ the contract¡ªI should''ve read it more carefully.


    The tour guide told me to explore, but¡­ should I do it with or without care?


    Leonardo continues thinking.


    Suddenly, in a moment of reckless honesty, Leonardo blurted out, "He''s my dad!"


    The words hung in the air, thick with surprise. Marquis''s eyes widened. "Wait¡ªwhat do you mean your dad?"


    Leonardo felt a pang of vulnerability. His voice wavered as he continued, "I didn''t want to say anything, but¡­ the tour guide, the one who gave me this job¡­ he''s my father. I didn''t know how to tell anyone. I didn''t know if I should. It''s complicated."

 Drop!

    "Welcome back to the lift," Hector says, his voice a low rumble that echoes off the metallic walls.


    Unlike last time, the lift is completely filled, though with only 46 people, a stark contrast to the earlier count of around 150.


    The space is tighter, the air thicker with the unspoken tension of those who remain.


    Leonardo nods, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Yup, he let me out to ex¡ªplore!" he exclaims, his voice carrying a note of forced cheerfulness. He''s trying to mask the unease that''s been gnawing at him since the lift first began its descent.


    "You''re making this up, right?" Marquis asks, his tone dripping with skepticism.


    He''s always been the doubter, the one to question the absurdity that others might accept without hesitation.


    "Well, no¡ª" Leonardo starts, but he''s abruptly cut off by a shout from the other side of the lift. near the door,


    "Shadow blade!" a figure yells, bursting onto the scene with an almost supernatural spontaneity.


    His appearance is jarring, to say the least. He''s clad in clothing reminiscent of a vigilante he watched growing up,


    complete with a long, flowing cape that billows behind him like a shadowy storm cloud.


    The cape is eerily similar, giving him an air of menace. He wears cargo pants for some reason, an odd choice given the rest of his attire.


    The tactical vest he dons is strapped tightly to his chest, filled with pockets and compartments that suggest a readiness for battle at any moment.


    Leonardo blinks, trying to process what he''s seeing. The figure stands relatively tall at 5''8, his eyes white.


    "What in the 21 realms is it with this situation!" Marquis exclaims, his voice laced with genuine bewilderment.


    He''s seen a lot in his time, but this? This is beyond anything he could have imagined. "You''re the tour guide''s son, then why are you, you know, black?" Marquis asks, his words stumbling over themselves as he tries to navigate the awkwardness of the question.


    "Well, brown kinda, but still."


    Marquis has always had a way of putting his foot in his mouth, and this is no exception. "Well, I don''t know my mother," Leonardo says, a bit defensively, then continues with a shrug, "so that cancels out."


    He glances over at the text that seems to hover in the air, telling him exactly what to say. It''s unnerving, this sense of being guided by something¡ªor someone¡ªunseen. "Am I sure that isn''t the tour guide?" he thinks as the text slowly fades away, leaving him with more questions than answers.


    The figure, now fully commanding the attention of everyone in the lift, smirks as if relishing the confusion he''s caused.


    "They think I merely hide in rasvian energy, but I am Rasvian," he declares, striking a dramatic pose that''s almost comical in its intensity. The way he moves, the way he speaks¡ªit''s all reminiscent of the heroes


    Most heirs saw growing up.


    And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, Rasvian Shadow vanishes, leaving nothing but a faint ripple in the air where he once stood. He seemed to vanish


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    "Isn''t that weird?" Leonardo tries to say, but his voice is drowned out by the overwhelming noise of the lift''s machinery grinding against the forces of acceleration.


    "Look. At. Me," Marquis demands, grabbing Leonardo''s arm and pulling him back to reality.


    His eyes are wide, almost frantic.


    The thought of the tour guide having a son¡ªespecially one like that¡ªis indescribable, a notion so outlandish it borders on the absurd. It''s on par with the idea of a sage procreating with a "human," a concept that defies the very laws of nature and the established order of their world.


    The lift''s speed increases abruptly, throwing everyone off balance.


    "It seems we have to increase the speed a bit more," Hector announces looking over at marquis and Leonardo, his tone casual as if he''s merely adjusting the thermostat in a room. He looks at the air in front of him, waving his hands in a motion that seems to communicate with the lift''s controls.


    "3x speed enabled," a voice drones. This voice is unlike the authoritative tones of the sages; it''s monochrome, robotic, almost devoid of any emotion or inflection.


    The lift responds instantly, moving at a speed so intense that the very fabric of space-time seems to warp around them.


    The stars outside the lift, once twinkling dots of light, now stretch into long, unbroken lines, creating a dazzling display of colors as the Doppler effect kicks in.


    The light shifts from white to blue to red, the stars appearing as if they''ve been smeared across the sky by an unseen hand.


    All of this happens in the span of 11 seconds, a blur of motion and sensation that leaves everyone reeling. Hector smiles a bit, clearly enjoying the chaos he''s unleashed.


    There''s a brief pause as the lift stabilizes, and for a moment, everyone seems to float slightly off the ground, suspended in a state of near-weightlessness. It''s disorienting, the sudden shift in gravity playing tricks on their senses.


    "What is that man doing?!" Anna''s voice cuts through the din, her tone sharp with alarm. She''s standing far off, but her voice carries, echoing through the enclosed space.


    As Shadow blade reappears, he''s already at the top of the lift, clinging to the ceiling with an ease that defies explanation.


    He doesn''t even have time to react before the lift''s next movement sends him crashing against the ceiling, his body plastered against the metal like a fly caught in a web.


    "Floor 2900!" Hector announces, his voice gleeful as 6 people get down, their faces pale from the ordeal.


    "Floor 2805!" Two more descend, moving with an urgency that suggests they want off this ride as soon as possible.


    "Floor 2705!" Two get down.


    "Floor 2650!" Nine more exit, leaving behind an air of quiet desperation. Leonardo watches in amazement.


    How can so many people live on a single floor? How big is one floor? He tries to ask, but the words catch in his throat as the lift accelerates once more, propelling them deeper into the tower''s depths.


    Hector, oblivious to the growing tension, is thoroughly enjoying every bit of the ride. He throws his head back and laughs, a sound that borders on madness.


    "HAHAH" he cackles, his eyes gleaming with excitement.


    "What is that man doing?!" Mei Ling shouts, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and frustration as her guide struggles to keep her steady. The speed of the lift is relentless, unforgiving, and it''s clear that not everyone is handling it well.


    Mei-Ling''s guide, however, is having a much harder time, his gauntleted hands trying¡ªand failing¡ªto find purchase on the slick polsium floor.


    Tyrsson, ever the stoic warrior, lies flat on the ground, his body rigid as he braces against the forces threatening to fling him into the air.


    Rasvian Shadow clings to the ceiling, his fingers digging into the metal as he fights to maintain his grip.


    His guide is nowhere to be seen, possibly on the ground¡ªor worse. Leonardo''s mind races with possibilities, none of them comforting. Ryuji and wata on the other hand stay on the ceiling.


    "Floor 2000!" Hector announces, his voice a little less jovial now as marquis begins to get down.


    "Well, looks like this is my stop," Marquis murmured as the lift finally began to decelerate, the hum of machinery quieting.


    His hands, perpetually buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, remained there, even as the blood-red lettering on his hoodie came into view.


    "Future," it proclaimed in bold, near Gothic letters, Yeah," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with a rare vulnerability, "this might be the last time we cross paths."


    Leonardo hesitated, the words slipping out before he could catch them. "I know. It was nice meeting you... ''blue-haired saviour.''"


    Marquis let out a low, sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "You''re a trip, you know that?" he said, extending his hand, a gesture that felt both final and unexpectedly sincere. "It was fun."


    "what do you mean fun? we barely talked" Leonardo replied


    "Nah nothing, you just seem better than Alain and Ryuji combined"


    "Just get on with it already!" a nearby heir barked, his patience fraying, his voice a sharp contrast to the strange calm that had settled over Marquis and Leonardo.


    Leonardo ignored the outburst, focusing solely on Marquis as he grasped his hand firmly.


    Marquis nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned away. The lift''s doors slid open with a whisper, revealing a lush, vibrant forest that stretched endlessly before them, the scent of pine and earth rushing in like a breath of fresh air.


    "Marquis, wait¡ª" Leonardo began, a sense of urgency rising in his chest.


    "Yeah?" Marquis turned back slowly, his eyes meeting Leonardo''s for just a heartbeat.


    But before the words could form, the doors snapped shut with a finality that echoed in the small space.


    "Moving on!" Hector called out, his voice edged with a note of finality. The lift jolted, then resumed its descent, the stars outside blurring back into streaks of light, a cosmic reminder of the relentless pace of their journey.


    As the lift hurtled through the void, Leonardo stared at the closed doors, a mix of regret and resolve churning within him,


    "it was fun"

 Explosion

    "An explosion occurred at the former head''s location¡ªRichard," the voice announced, the words hanging in the air like a thick fog. Most of the room responded with casual indifference, their disbelief evident in the dismissive scoffs that followed.


    Yet, amidst the murmurs, both Henri and Alphonse paused, their expressions tightening with concern.


    "His death wasn''t accounted for, though, unfortunately, a few train attendants were caught in the blast," the voice continued, its tone somber and detached.


    A simultaneous sigh of relief escaped the two men, their shoulders visibly relaxing as the tension eased.


    "He doesn''t seem sad," Henri muttered under his breath, a hint of suspicion coloring his voice.


    "How big was the explosion?" a woman inquired, her tone probing, each word laced with the subtle undertones of an ulterior motive.


    "I see through your little game, but¡ª" Beaugois started, his voice tight with impatience, trying to steer the conversation away.


    "You don''t have a clue," she interrupted sharply, her words slicing through his like a blade, leaving no room for doubt.


    Beaugois, sensing the shifting tides, swiftly changed the subject. "Lydia, your necklace is fantastically crafted," he remarked, his eyes settling on the intricate piece around her neck.


    Lydia''s attire exuded a blend of modern sophistication and ancient reverence. She wore a sleek, tailored blazer in a deep charcoal gray, its sharp lines and minimalist design reflecting her razor-sharp intellect and forward-thinking sensibilities.


    The fabric was a luxurious wool blend, rich to the touch, with a subtle sheen that caught the light in all the right places.


    Beneath the blazer, she wore a fitted blouse of the finest ivory silk, the delicate material draping over her form with a fluid grace that bespoke timeless elegance. The blouse was adorned with an intricate pattern of geometric shapes¡ª


    Her trousers, crafted from the same charcoal wool as her blazer, were the epitome of refined tailoring.


    The high waist and straight cut lent an air of classic sophistication, the subtle pleats along the front a delicate homage to the traditional garments she once wore.


    The trousers ended just above her ankles, revealing a pair of polished black loafers, each one meticulously crafted with intricate stitching. The loafers were a modern choice, Around her neck, Lydia wore a simple yet striking silver pendant shaped like a stylized olive branch,


    Her hair was styled in a sleek, low bun, every strand meticulously arranged, secured with a small, ornate clasp that echoed the intricate designs of her previous life.


    The clasp, a masterpiece of craftsmanship. She adjusted her glasses, the movement graceful, almost imperceptible. "Thank you," she said, her voice cool and measured. "Now, back to the question at hand¡ªany information on the cause?"


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    "Could you hush? I have an appointment after this," Lady Xiu interjected, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She spoke with an air of authority, her words laced with a seriousness that demanded attention.


    [You can skip] Lady Xiu''s appearance was nothing short of regal. She wore a grand cheongsam, crafted from the finest silk in a deep, royal blue¡ªa color that spoke of power, of grace, of an imperial lineage that ran deep within her veins. The fabric was embroidered with elaborate patterns of phoenixes and dragons, symbols of imperial power and grace, each stitch a testament to the skill of the artisans who had brought it to life.


    The gown''s high collar and fitted bodice accentuated her refined stature, the rich fabric clinging to her form with a grace that was at once commanding and elegant.


    The flowing, floor-length skirt flared gracefully as she moved, the golden thread of the embroidery catching the light with a subtle sheen, enhancing the gown''s regal allure.


    At her waist, she wore an ornate sash, intricately woven with gold threads, each strand shimmering with the richness of its material.


    The sash was adorned with jade and pearl embellishments, the precious stones carefully selected for their luster and purity.


    The sash was fastened with a large, carved jade clasp, a piece of exceptional artistry, its surface inscribed with auspicious symbols that reflected both her high status and the cultural significance of jade in her homeland.


    Over her gown, she draped a xuanyi, a traditional Ming-era outer garment, its wide, flowing sleeves and straight, knee-length cut lending her an air of dignified elegance. The xuanyi was made of a sheer, pale gold silk, its edges delicately embroidered with patterns of lotus flowers and clouds, symbols of purity and transcendence.


    The garment was held in place with gold-threaded silk ties, the fabric falling in soft, graceful folds, adding an extra layer of sophistication to her already impeccable attire.


    Her head was adorned with an elaborate hairpin, a quintessential accessory of the Ming era.


    The hairpin was a work of art, crafted from gold and set with a cluster of colorful gemstones¡ªsapphires, rubies, and pearls¡ªeach stone carefully selected for its brilliance.


    The design was intricate, resembling a blossoming chrysanthemum, a symbol of nobility and longevity.


    Her jewelry was both striking and refined¡ªa golden necklace with a large, central pendant of carved jade, surrounded by a halo of smaller, brilliant diamonds. Her earrings were simple yet elegant, each featuring a single, dangling pearl set in gold, the subtle movement of the pearls catching the light with every turn of her head.


    "People died, Lady Xiu?" Lydia asked, her voice tinged with shock.


    "My family didn''t die, so what''s the problem?" Lady Xiu replied, her tone dismissive, as if the deaths of others were of little consequence.


    "I''m sure you wouldn''t know, since you left your ''dynasty.'' heritage should be considered superior," Lady Xiu continued, her words pointed, a sharp rebuke


    "Your archaic ideas will be the death of you. Kokoro was the first to fall, and you both ultimately share the same values," Lydia shot back, her voice dripping with disdain.


    "You''re amusing," Lady Xiu replied, though her words were strained, the tension between them palpable. Lady Xiu''s entire appearance seemed to contradict her words, the veins on her face bulging with barely suppressed anger.


    "Your husband won''t like that..." Lydia says slowly..


    "Oh, I suppose you''re right," Lady Xiu responded, her tone suddenly calm, the change in demeanor jarring


    .


    The atmosphere in the room shifted sharply with that comment, the air thick with unease, even Lydia taken aback by the sudden reversal.


    "White robes were found by ''Fredrick''," the voice continued, breaking the tension.


    "White robes?" Alphonse echoed, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Where have I seen that before? I can''t remember, sadly."


    "Ah, Fredrick¡ªare we certain he''s reliable?" Sir Eadric asked, his skepticism evident.


    "Have you met him?" Beaugois shot back, his tone challenging.


    "No, but my knight¡ª"


    "Then hush," Beaugois cut him off.


    Sir Eadric''s posture shifted, a subtle change


    "The type of clothing might help to identify," Lydia suggested, turning to Alphonse.


    "Yes, but perhaps not right now... Wasn''t it slightly blue?"


    "Plain, unrequited white," the voice corrected.


    " never mind then," Alphonse replied gesturing his hands upwards, a note of finality in his voice.


    "See, Lydia?" Beaugois chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing, if only slightly.

 Puzzel

    "What do you mean by ''see''? That doesn''t prove anything, nor does it help in the current argument. I suggest you shut your mouth," Lydia replied flatly.


    "That''s how you do it," Freya butted in, laughing a bit.


    "I meant it metaphorically. Are you that slow?" Beaugois retorted.


    "No, it wasn''t," Lydia shot back.


    "It was, and I thought you were the smart one. Maybe it should be Luca or Anita. How could she be regarded as the smartest?" Beaugois scoffed, adjusting his chaperon.


    Anita sat back, unmoving, not muttering a single word.


    "Why drag Anita into your mindless quarrel?" Ashur said, sitting next to her.


    "Do not talk now, Ashur. I''m a bit busy," Beaugois snapped.


    "You''re a sorry old man, you know that? I wouldn''t care for compensation if it meant wiping that smug look off your face," Lydia sneered.


    "Oh my, it appears my bones are shivering. I''m beyond scared. Lydia is trying to hurt me," Beaugois taunted.


    "Lady Lydia hath spoken, hath she not? Then delay no further and make your departure forthwith," Sir Eadric said, his voice unusually stern.


    "Is the translator broken¡ª" Beaugois began, but Sir Eadric cut him off.


    "Mark this well: a loose tongue will bring about your¡ª" The translator seemed to glitch before finally finishing with, "death."


    Where Sir Eadric sat, light seemed to surround him, casting a subtle, ethereal glow.


    "You''ll have to compensate now, and you don''t want that, you said it yourself you know, you have to stay true to yourself in times like this" Beaugois said, sweat dripping from his temple. But a mischievous grin still etched in his face


    "The compensation will be worse, ''Sir Eadric,''" said a man sitting on the left side of the table. "It gets worse if we all remember clearly. It''s one of the rules. If we could go over it again¡ª"[left side of the table]


    "Shut up, will you?" Lady Xiu said indifferently, ignoring what she had just said to Lydia.


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    "Alright then," the man replied, focusing on his spherical orb with intricate lines. He was hunched over in his chair, wearing a long, tailored coat made of rich, deep burgundy velvet, reminiscent of the luxurious fabrics popular during the Renaissance. The coat was adorned with intricate gold embroidery along the cuffs and hem, featuring swirling patterns that echoed the artistic flourishes of the era. The coat flared slightly at the waist, allowing for ease of movement, and was lined with a subtle, dark blue satin that complemented his hair.


    Beneath the coat, he wore a high-collared shirt of fine, white linen, with ruffled edges at the neck and sleeves¡ªa nod to Renaissance fashion.


    Over this, he had a fitted, dark leather vest that added a rugged, practical touch to his ensemble.


    The vest was equipped with multiple small pockets and straps, holding various tools and instruments he might need for his work.


    "You always seem to change your clothing, Luca," Inti observed.


    "There are better ways to dress; I just haven''t thought of them yet," Luca replied.


    His trousers were made of sturdy, black fabric, tailored to fit comfortably yet snugly, allowing him to move freely as he tinkered with his creations.


    They were tucked into knee-high, polished leather boots, reinforced with metal buckles and plates, giving them a slightly armored look.


    On his head, he wore a pair of brass goggles with tinted lenses, perched just above his eyes, ready to be pulled down when needed.


    The goggles were intricately designed, with small gears and adjustable lenses that hinted at his inventive nature.


    A leather strap held them securely in place, and they bore subtle engravings that resembled the ornate designs of the Renaissance era.


    Around his waist, he had a utility belt laden with various pouches and small, cylindrical containers, each holding different alchemical ingredients or tools essential for his experiments.


    A small, finely crafted knife with a handle inlaid with mother-of-pearl was sheathed at his side, both a tool and a symbol of his craftsmanship.


    His hair, a striking shade of dark blue with lighter streaks, was styled in a tousled yet deliberate manner, reflecting both his creativity and his focus on his work.


    The color of his hair, unusual and eye-catching, complemented the overall palette of his outfit, adding a modern touch to his otherwise Renaissance-inspired look.


    As he worked on the orb pulsing with Rasvian energy, the soft glow from the orb cast a faint light on his face, highlighting the intensity and focus in his deep, thoughtful eyes.


    His entire appearance was a seamless blend of the old and the new, with each element of his outfit carefully chosen to reflect his unique identity as a Renaissance-inspired inventor in a world of Rasvian energy.


    "I suppose you are right," Sir Eadric said simply, the former glowing light slowly dimming out.


    "Hah! You''re all so funny. You know you can''t beat me," Beaugois mocked.


    "Could you all keep quiet? I''m trying to sleep, which is impossible when all I hear are grown-ups talking about mindless stuff. Most of you aren''t meant to be heads. Do most of you realize I''ve made more progress in 12 years than you have in multiple decades? I''ve¡ª"


    "Enough, Zorion," Henri interjected, veins bulging on his forehead.


    "You should listen to Henri, Zorion. Unlike Beaugois'' sharp tongue, he is on our ''level.'' You just merely joined. Do not overestimate yourself. You do not want any more enemies in the tower," Inti warned.


    "He doesn''t want enemies," Alphonse muttered under his breath.


    "Alright then," Zorion simply replied, raising both hands as a sign of defeat, unwinding from the conversation.


    Luca focused on his work, not using any equipment, only his fingers as he spun the spherical object watching it as it changed shapes seamlessly, manipulating it from the two holes on each side.


    He scoffed multiple times before, his eyes only getting brighter when he realized he solved it,


    He heard a click when his fingers were inserted


    "That should work. The newer version is undoubtedly harder," he said smiling towards Lydia and Anita as the object began to glow brighter slowly


    another mishap.


    "the object is playing with me" Luca mutters slightly as veins seem to protrude, his usual nonchalant attitude seems to be breaking slightly.

 Ever changing

    [Flashback -]


    The Enigmasphere, a marvel of intricate craftsmanship, is one of the most complex artifacts ever to be made by the humans of the Museum.


    Forged by those with unparalleled expertise, it is the latest addition to an exclusive bundle of instruments.


    At first glance, the metallic sphere appears unassuming¡ªits smooth, reflective surface gives no indication of the fiendish puzzle that lies within. Yet, its true nature is revealed only to those bold enough to attempt to solve it.


    The sphere is marked by two small, seemingly innocuous holes on opposite sides, but these are the entry points to a vast, ever-shifting labyrinth of interlocking mechanisms.


    Each layer of the sphere''s interior is more intricate than the last, a maddening maze of gears, cogs, and levers in constant motion, driven by a mysterious, energy.


    The internal components are not static; they evolve with every interaction, reconfiguring themselves in response to the slightest touch.


    What truly makes the Enigmasphere insurmountable is its defiance of the very laws of geometry. When held and turned, the sphere undergoes a transformation that seems to violate reality itself¡ªit spins like a cube.


    As it rotates, the sphere momentarily folds into a perfect cube, only to seamlessly revert to its spherical form in an endless, fluid motion.


    This transformation is more than just a physical change; it reconfigures the internal mechanisms in unpredictable ways with every spin.


    "That''s surprising. They''ve really upped their game with that," Lydia remarked, watching closely as Luca tried to solve it.


    Each time the Enigmasphere is rotated, the intricate mechanisms within shift their positions, creating an entirely new configuration.


    The changes are not random but governed by a complex, cryptic code etched into the surface of the sphere.


    These symbols are constantly in flux, changing with each rotation, offering the solver only fleeting glimpses of their true meaning.


    The symbols serve both as a guide and a barrier, their meaning obscured by the continuous transformation of the object.


    "I''ve recognized the pattern," Luca said slowly, his entire focus drawn into the puzzle.


    "You''ll need to synchronize the rotations," Lydia suggested, her eyes sharp on the sphere.


    "Each spin makes it reset. I recognized the pattern, but the sequence¡­ is changing rapidly," Luca muttered.


    "I can help," Lydia offered, her tone confident.


    "I don''t need your help; I can do it myself. Thank you," Luca replied curtly.


    "Alright then," Lydia said, withdrawing.


    To solve the Enigmasphere, one must decipher these ever-changing symbols, align the shifting mechanisms, and navigate the labyrinth within¡ªall while the puzzle itself actively works against the solver.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The slightest mistake in one configuration can reset the entire puzzle, forcing the solver to start over from the beginning, with a completely new set of challenges.


    Luca carefully inserted his fingers into the two holes at precise intervals. Within the sphere, complex mechanisms had to be manipulated in tandem with the external rotations.


    "Another Rasvian puzzle? They really upped their game. This¡­ this is Genesis Rasvian," Luca noted, smirking as he recognized the challenge, even as Anita, observing quietly, seemed tense and drenched with sweat.


    "The patterns shift to the sequence, shift to the internal puzzles¡­ It requires double fingers... Click* click*... Beep*..., is that also changing? I''ll need to decipher the¡­ hmm," Luca paused, holding the sphere, trying to visualize its inner workings.


    "Fascinating."


    "Right, left, bottom, shift¡­ and¡­ now," he murmured, inserting both thumbs into the holes. "Now let''s see if I can¡­"


    He fell silent, his mind racing to envision the multi-dimensional puzzle inside. But after a moment, he sighed.


    "I don''t think I can solve this."


    "Need help now?" Lydia asked.


    "Fine," Luca admitted.


    "The mechanisms are similar to the older model¡ªthe Enigmascope. If it''s like that, hand it over," Lydia said, extending her hand. Luca reluctantly passed the sphere to her.


    "Oh, it is hard. I thought you were just dumb, hahaha," Lydia teased.


    "Hahaha," Luca replied dryly.


    "External rotations¡­ it uses Genesis Rasvian. That''s unusual¡ªimplementing it this way is amazing!" Lydia continued, more to herself than anyone else.


    She paused, as did the other heirs, when they noticed Leonardo decline the Sage''s offer for the Unwritten Skill.


    "Is he well? He just got himself on a list he shouldn''t have been on if he had only accepted," Lydia mused, unable to understand Leonardo''s decision.


    "He''s amazing," Anita muttered, her gaze following Leonardo as he left the blue spiral, with Aymara following to receive her Unwritten Skill.


    The woman wore a long black robe cinched at the waist with a thin, simple belt, creating a stark contrast with the voluminous white wimple that enveloped her head and shoulders.


    The fabric of the wimple was draped elegantly, its folds cascading around her face, giving her an air of serene grace.


    In her hand, she delicately held a string of prayer beads, the soft colors of the beads complementing the purity of her attire.


    Her expression was calm, almost contemplative, as if she were lost in a quiet moment of reflection, embodying both humility and quiet strength.


    The ensemble, with its careful blend of austerity and grace, suggested a woman deeply rooted in tradition, perhaps of noble or religious significance, yet exuding an aura of gentle authority.


    "That boy¡­" Henri muttered, his smile broadening. "HAHAha, well, they picked a rule breaker," Henri said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.


    "I can help," Anita offered quietly. "What if we break the principles?"


    "Are you out of your mind?" Luca snapped.


    "You''re not functioning," Lydia added, sharing Luca''s disbelief.


    "If we use their past works as a foundation, they could only expand on the former," Lydia reasoned.


    "I think understanding it first is crucial. What do you mean by past works? If someone solved it, they would obviously revamp it. That''s the whole point of the company," Luca argued.


    "Realistically speaking, they wouldn''t. Resources and other factors come into play," Lydia countered.


    "We''re trying to solve something, not discuss the financial situation of the company," Luca grumbled.


    "The mechanisms blend advanced mechanics and Genesis Rasvian," Anita noted.


    "That much is obvious," Lydia replied, her gaze shifting to Alain, who seemed to be in pain.


    "The puzzle could involve more than just 3D movements. I think it requires the solver to think in terms of additional dimensions, such as time¡ªsequencing moves in a specific order or timing them precisely¡ªor even abstract dimensions like emotions or memories that correspond to certain moves," Anita said, clutching the white wimple.


    "You are right. The last object did use minor dimensions like space," Lydia acknowledged.


    "I did notice a few movements abstract to said 3D," Luca added.


    "Another thing¡ªthe last one involved a few elements. Each spin or move gives subtle feedback. The puzzle ''learns'' from the solver''s actions, adapting or evolving in complexity," Lydia continued.


    "Meaning it gets harder¡­" Luca muttered, hardly believing that a mere company in the skies of Ghent could create such an incredibly complex system of movements that requires someone to think in multi-dimensional terms. "It hurts to even think about it," Luca admitted.


    "Requiring an ability to shift perspectives and tactics rapidly," Anita concluded.


    "That''s where I come in¡­" Anita said, her voice firm. As they continued, they realized that this puzzle was unlike any other, a creation that pushed their minds to the limit and beyond.

 Unsolved

    "The object," Anita began, her tone serious as she scrutinized the spherical puzzle. "Unlike most puzzles that have a linear path to solving, this one might require thinking in loops, recursion, or using counterintuitive moves. We don''t need to move it like a cube."


    "It already isn''t moving like a cube, How should we go about it, then?" Luca asked, repositioning his body to get a better angle on the enigmatic object.


    They all seemed incredulously invested in solving the puzzle, their focus so intense it caught Freya''s attention from across the room.


    "That looks hard," Freya commented, tilting her head as she tried to make sense of the shape-shifting object.


    "Why does it spin like that? It''s a sphere, then a cube¡­ like, pick a side! Hahahah! Anyway, how does it work like that?"


    "Multi-dimensionality," Luca replied simply, though his eyes remained locked on Anita as she continued to speak.


    "It uses Rasvian energy, more specifically Genesis," Anita explained, her voice steady as she examined the object. "That means¡­"


    "The entire shape is a puzzle," Lydia interjected, sighing deeply as the realization hit her. She hadn''t expected it to be this hard.


    "But it also means there''s a puzzle using the Genesis that has to be broken," Luca added, his gaze sharpening as he studied the spherical object.


    "It should be inside, but not inside in the literal sense¡ªinside metaphorically. Rasvian energy exists equally so¡­"


    "Unbalance it," Lydia suggested, regaining her composure as she pieced together the logic. "To differentiate it from the outside, that should be the only viable answer."


    "Exactly," Anita confirmed, a hint of relief in her voice. It already seemed like they''d made progress by figuring out the Rasvian puzzle that held the entire structure together.


    "Inti Yupanqui," Lydia called out, her voice carrying a tone of urgency.


    "Yes?" he replied, turning his gaze from the children to the three who, unlike every other head in the room, were entirely focused on the object.


    "Could you amplify this for me?" Lydia asked, handing the object over to him.


    "Sure," he replied, his armor creasing as he turned. His hands glowed slightly as he amplified the Rasvian energy in object.


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    It began to glow faintly with a blue light but didn''t move. Inti tried again, attempting to amplify the Rasvian energy within.


    "It can''t be amplified¡­ It''s already amplified?" Inti said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry, the object is irregular."


    He handed it back, turning back to the heirs. Luca accepted it, a look of determination on his face.


    "Luca¡­ where did you get the object again?" Anita asked, her eyes narrowing.


    "Rolls-worth. Where else?"


    "Oh, okay¡­ because¡­" Anita''s voice trailed off as she gestured to the object. The shapes were changing again¡ªfrom a sphere to a cube, then a triangle, a rectangle, and finally, a cup.


    "That''s definitely stage two," Luca muttered, unable to contain his excitement as the object continued to morph in his hands. unlike before where it morphs to fit each turn, it changes shapes regardless.


    "Or it adapted and became more complex, like my theory," Anita said, her tone carrying a mix of frustration and intrigue.


    "We won''t find out unless we try," Luca replied, his eyes narrowing as he braced himself for the next challenge.


    Anita glanced at Luca, noticing the tension in his hands as he held the object. "You''ve got this," she said, her voice steady, trying to instill confidence.


    "Remember, the whole point is to think differently. Don''t follow the rules¡ªbreak them."


    It was at this moment that Itami''s turn arrived. He stood, shirtless as always, and uttered, "Itami Takashiro," before starting to float. The tension in the room thickened


    "Luca, hold the object. The holes are still there, meaning inserting like earlier is the next move," Lydia instructed.


    Luca nodded, inserting both of his fingers into the holes, trying to decipher the object''s contents.


    He could feel the Rasvian energy pulsing within, shifting unpredictably. It was like trying to grasp smoke¡ªtangible yet elusive.


    "Multi-dimensional thinking time," Luca muttered to himself smiling a bit, trying his best to envision the ever-changing interior of the object. He needed to understand its essence, its core.


    "try to Balance it now¡­" Anita said slowly, her and Lydia''s eyes locked on Luca as he drove his fingers deeper into the mechanism.


    "Balance it? How¡ª" Luca began, but before he could finish, another beep sounded, signaling the start of the third stage.


    "The manual said stage four ends it," Lydia noted, quickly pulling out her phone to search for more information. "Also, a new era is out. The theme is sci-fi, and it focuses on puzzle-solving."


    Luca chuckled despite the pressure. "Ironic."


    He tried his best to concentrate, his mind a whirlwind of possibilities. The object''s complexity was staggering; it was as if it held an infinite number of potential solutions, each one more intricate than the last.


    "After balancing it¡­ it''s stable now, I mean¡­ now what?" Luca asked, his voice betraying his confusion.


    "I have no idea, but¡ª" Anita began, but before she could finish, the object returned to its original state.


    "Did it just reset? Meaning it''s getting more complex? That means the former method won''t work, any new idea you all, this object is truly amazing" Lydia asked, unable to contain her laughter. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much.


    "It should be doable now¡­ easily, even, like you said earlier, it should.. use the former as a foundation" Anita said, though there was a hint of doubt in her voice.


    They had come so far, yet the puzzle seemed to be mocking their efforts, always one step ahead.


    "Ill need to get one myself Rolls-worth just got upped to first in my list" Lydia says smiling a bit, she can''t wait to do business with now


    Luca stared at the object, his mind racing. Every twist and turn had led them back to the beginning, but with each reset, the puzzle grew more intricate. It was a battle of wits, a challenge that demanded nothing less than perfection.


    "I didn''t solve it?" He says slowly.. he''s in disbelief


    "Trysson Is a huge boy Titus" ashur says to someone who is also huge but incomparable to Trysson,


    "We are huge when we are little, maybe it was to evade the demons by growing faster back in my city or the less know stereotype we mated with the Seraphiel" he reply back


    Trysson''s father embodies a striking blend of ancient might and subtle modernity. His tunic, while crafted from thick, rough-spun cloth in deep, earthy tones, features sleek, reinforced stitching that hints at advanced tailoring techniques.


    [he has no sleeve, so muscle!]


    The wide leather belt at his waist, adorned with iron studs and etched symbols of ancient power, also holds a sleek holigra device, seamlessly integrated into the rugged design.


    The cloak draped over his broad shoulders is still fashioned from the hide of a colossal beast, Beneath the cloak, subtle lines of light trace the seams of his tunic, a nod to the modern world he inhabits


    His boots are thick, almost crude in their design, but reinforced with modern materials, providing both durability and a surprising lightness.

 Hoody Knight

    "1995!" Hector called out, as four people exited the elevator.


    "Ryuji," Wata said softly, supporting him as they stepped out. Leonardo noticed the way Ryuji''s grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles turning white. His Obi knot, usually secured with precision, now seemed oddly loose.


    "Henri..." Ryuji muttered under his breath.


    The name was barely audible, but Wata, standing close, caught it.


    "Yes?" Wata replied quietly.


    "I''ll kill him," Ryuji declared, his voice a low growl. His eyes narrowed with a fierce intensity just as the elevator doors closed in front of him, sealing him away from the others.


    Inside the lift, the atmosphere grew tense. The elevator began to reduce its speed, the mechanical hum deepening as it slowed.


    "Floor 1986" two get down.


    "Floor 1978!" aymara and xalatl get down.


    Mei-Ling''s guide, a towering figure with a powerful build, was the first to make contact with the floor below, landing with a thunderous thud that reverberated through the shaft. Trysson and the others began to descend slowly, one after another, each with a different expression¡ªranging from nervous anticipation to calm resolve.


    Only a few people remained in the elevator now.


    "Hector!" Leonardo shouted, his voice cutting through the thick silence. "What was that for? I mean, I know why you did it, but it was unexpected.


    Most people¡ª" He paused, turning to see Anna, who looked like she was on the verge of exploding. Her clothes, already disheveled from the past events, now seemed even worse.


    "Ahem, Anna will want you dead for that stunt," Leonardo said, his attempt at humor failing to diffuse the tension.


    "Hector" a boy says


    "Ah, which floor do you stop at again?" Hector asked, seemingly unfazed by the chaos he had caused.


    "Floor 1873,"he replied. Hector quickly stopped what he was doing and made the lift halt on that floor as people continued to get off.


    "I can''t wait to get home," a figure with a dark, intense aura¡ªthe so-called "Shadow Blade"¡ªmuttered to his guide.


    His guide, who was dressed in the standard garb of an everyday man in the tower, a matching blue coat and pants, nodded in agreement. Seven people got down at this stop.


    six get down.


    "Hector, I have a year, to prepare, i really dont know anything about this place" Leonardo stated.


    Hector looked at Leonardo, clearly puzzled by the abrupt declaration. "Oh? Well, alright then.


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    The Right Star District should be suitable for that. Flying cars are only for certain districts, though."


    "Districts? How many are there?" Leonardo inquired, his curiosity piqued.


    "That word!" he thinks his mood changing instantly,


    "About 21," Hector replied, pointing down below the lift as the mighty expanse of the Sky District came into view. It stretched out like a vast, glittering cityscape, towering and expansive, but still incomparable to the near boundless ground below.


    "Yes," Leonardo murmured in awe as he stared down at the sight. Suddenly, Anna lunged at Hector with full force. "You old man!" she yelled, attempting to slap him, but Leonardo intercepted her.


    "Anna! It''s alright. He slowed it down, didn''t he?" Leonardo reasoned, trying to calm her.


    "He could have done it five minutes ago! And when did you get all father-sonny with him, huh?" Anna shot back, clearly not convinced. Her voice carried a mix of frustration and concern.


    "C''mon, Anna, let''s go home first. I''m tired. I''ve been standing for a while now¡ªnot really standing, but still," Elara explained, recalling how she had been stuck to the wall like a leaf against a storm.


    "What?" Leonardo asked, still trying to process everything.


    "Conductor, my floor is here," Mei-Ling called out, stepping closer to Hector.


    "Ah, my fault. Floor 1534!" Hector shouted, pulling the lever as the lift screeched to a halt. Three people, including a pair of heirs, stepped out. A towering figure followed Mei-Ling, his presence commanding attention.


    Five got down.


    Leonardo couldn''t help but feel a sense of unease as he observed the figure.


    The light filtering in from the sky''s dim glow bathed the lift, making the figure''s mane appear to shine like molten gold. It illuminated his form, making him seem almost larger than life.


    "Why does he look like a lion¡­ his face?" Leonardo thought to himself, squinting to get a better look.


    The figure''s face had an unusual combination of human and feline features¡ªhis skin was a pure orangish-yellow, his irises slit like a cat''s. The longer Leonardo stared, the more surreal the figure became.


    "He''s human¡ªmost of the time," Mei-Ling said, her sharp eyes catching Leonardo''s curious gaze. She studied him, amused by his naive fascination.


    "What do you mean by ''now''?" Leonardo asked, unable to comprehend the deeper meaning behind her words.


    "Anna, you''ll need to take him to The Grand Bibliotheca. Your guide seems¡­ ignorant should be the right term," Mei-Ling suggested, her fingers making a subtle gesture¡ªtwo fingers pointing down, as if implying something Leonardo couldn''t quite decipher.


    "Where did you find such an idiot? Let''s go, Leontis," Mei-Ling remarked with a dismissive tone, her gaze briefly resting on Leonardo.


    "Yeah, we do have to go to the Bibliotheca," Anna said, sighing heavily. She looked at Leonardo, realizing how little he knew about the complex structure they were in.


    "And that''ll give us time for more questions¡­" she continued, her eyes narrowing in thought.


    "Leontis? We kinda share the same name. Leonardo-nitis. Leon!" For some reason, Leonardo couldn''t contain his excitement.


    He was thrilled to share a name¡ªhowever loosely¡ªwith such a formidable figure. "And what was that she talked about? I was already planning on that," he mused aloud.


    "See you later, Anna, Elara," Mei-Ling said as she left the lift with her guide.


    "First, we get to the floor, then we''ll head to the Bibliotheca," Anna said to Elara, who nodded in agreement.


    Leonardo turned around to find only five people remaining in the elevator. Excluding Anna, Elara, and himself, only two others were still present.


    And who else could it be but¡ª


    "Yo! Didn''t expect to see you here¡ªor maybe I did. Yo, Elara," the knight said, his voice as casual as if they had just spoken a moment ago.


    His guide stood by his side, still holding her staff. The material at the top of the staff shone brighter as the "sun" began to rise in the distance.


    The veil covering her face was still shrouded in darkness, giving her an enigmatic appearance.


    The knight himself was about Marquis''s height. His so-called "long sword" wasn''t really a long sword but rather something resembling it, perfectly matched to his height.


    He wore a relaxed gray sweater, his hands resting comfortably by his sides.


    "Hoody Knight?" Leonardo muttered, recalling what Anna had called him earlier.


    "What?"


    "Floor 1307! This is the final floor for the heirs! See you later, Leonardo!" Hector shouted as the lift reached the last designated stop.


    The knight turned to Elara, giving her a knowing smile. "Walking together again, eh, Elara?"


    Elara gave a slight nod, a soft smile crossing her lips as the lift doors opened.

 Floor 1307th

    "See you later, Hector¡ª" Leonardo was saying as he stepped out of the lift, only to be hit by a surreal breeze.


    His eyes widened, taking in the vast expanse before him. "How can this be inside a tower?" he asked, stunned by the impossibility of the scene.


    The lift doors closed behind him with a faint metallic gleam, looking like any average elevator door but still exuding an air of newness as if freshly minted from a futuristic forge.


    "You''ll get used to it," Elara said, a playful smile on her face as she stepped beside him. "The lift is way better than the last method."


    Leonardo''s gaze swept across the landscape. They stood on a cliff overlooking a sprawling mansion.


    The sky above them, though vast, felt artificial¡ªa patchwork of pale blues and muted sunlight, giving the illusion of an open world. But the ceiling was not so high; he reckoned it was about the height of two skyscrapers he saw outside stacked on top of each other.


    "This... this has to be the same size as Volnia," Leonardo muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Three thousand plus floors, all as big as Volnia..."


    "Which floor is Volnia again?" Kaelan asked, trying to piece together the unfamiliar name from Leonardo''s world.


    "It''s kind of like a town I''m from¡­" Leonardo hesitated, his voice trailing off as he noticed Anna watching him intently. "I''ll tell you later."


    The sky might have felt like a carefully crafted illusion, but the ground beneath their feet was as real as any he had known.


    The breeze that brushed past them was supposed to be artificial, yet it carried the warmth and scent of a familiar summer wind.


    As they made their way down the cliffside, Leonardo noticed the trees¡ªfewer than back home, but their leaves rustled in a way that reminded him of the grasslands near Volnia.


    "These trees¡­ they seem real. Anna! How is this possible?" he exclaimed, pointing to the verdant landscape as they descended.


    Mei-Ling had once told him that he didn''t understand anything, and as he looked around now, he felt her words ring true.


    "Mei-Ling was right; you really don''t get anything," Anna said with a slight smile. "Let''s wait for Dad to come, then we''ll talk about everything. After that, we can go to the Grand Bibliotheca."


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    Leonardo''s head spun with questions, but before he could voice them, Elara chimed in. "Yeah, if this shocks you, you''re going to be in for a treat. The Bibliotheca is just below the highest floor that regular folks can access."


    "What?" Leonardo replied, eyes wide.


    "I''m Kaelan¡ªKai, Silver-Shield, whatever you want to call me, I realized we haven''t introduced formally" the knight said, His voice had a monochrome quality, a mix of metallic echoes and warmth that felt strangely comforting.


    "I''m Leonardo, but you can call me Leon, I guess. I''ll call you Kaelan," Leonardo replied, his cheeks flushing slightly at the awkwardness of introductions.


    "Leon? Really, you didn''t tell us that," Anna teased before Kaelan could respond.


    "Well, I just thought of it right now," Leonardo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.


    "It''s alright," Kaelan said with a nod. "And this is Astraea." He gestured to his guide, who stood by his side, her staff glowing faintly at the top, responding to the rise of the "sun" in the distance.


    The veil over her face remained shrouded in shadows, adding to her enigmatic aura.


    "Where''d you find a wizard?" Elara asked, her curiosity piqued. "You''d think they wouldn''t want anything to do with the Sages."


    "It''s a long story. From another city, one Dad and I visited two months ago," Kaelan explained.


    "Which¡ªoh, I just realized where is the Draconis Hogeol?" Elara replied, recalling the elite group''s reputation.


    "They don''t change sides that fast, don''t worry," Anna interjected, taking the lead as they approached the town below.


    "The chance of one of the five being here, too? I doubt it," Kaelan added thoughtfully.


    "Five? Draconic? What''s that?" Leonardo asked, intrigued by the unfamiliar names.


    "The Five Guards of the Tower," Kaelan explained. "One usually hangs out here because it''s peaceful."


    "He shouldn''t be here, though. The explosion probably caught their attention," Anna said, glancing at Kaelan.


    "Explosion? What do you mean?" Kaelan asked, his voice laced with concern.


    "There was an explosion near Uncle Richard''s mansion¡ªthe Right Star," Anna explained.


    "Wait, what? When? Is Uncle Richard okay?" Kaelan''s voice tightened, a hint of panic setting in.


    "Yeah, he''s fine. It wasn''t that close to his mansion. Don''t worry about it." Anna reassured him before adding, "How about we go to the Bibliotheca together?"


    Kaelan turned to Astraea, who was quietly observing the exchange. "Astraea, you coming?"


    "It will be my pleasure to guide you," she said, her tone dripping with respect, a rare display that caught even Kaelan off guard.


    The group continued their descent, the path winding down the cliff. They emerged from the tree-lined slope onto an open grassland.


    As they approached the town, it became clear it wasn''t a town at all but an expansive estate.


    Minor buildings scattered around suggested quarters for servants or guards, and the estate''s grandeur loomed larger as they drew closer.


    The grassland stretched out, vibrant and alive, contrasting sharply against the meticulously kept paths leading to the estate.


    "How is it glowing here? The sky is lit up, but I can''t see the sun," Leonardo remarked, gazing up at the sky''s artificial glow.


    "Marquis''s estate had more trees, and he was the only one living there," Leonardo added thoughtfully.


    "He''s higher up in the hierarchy," Anna reminded him. "Remember what I told you?"


    "Then Takashiro isn''t?" Leonardo inquired, piecing together the puzzle.


    "I mean, he is, but he doesn''t have his own floor. He lives in another city," Anna clarified.


    "And the light? That''s just¡­ God, I guess," Kaelan said with a shrug. "No one really knows. Even the Sages won''t give us answers."


    "We should probably stop talking about the Sage," Kaelan added, his voice dropping to a serious note.


    "I don''t want what happened to Colan to happen to me."


    They continued walking, the cliff fading behind them as they entered the sprawling estate grounds.


    The air was filled with a quiet hum, a mix of wind, distant voices, and the faint rustling of leaves, making the scene feel almost dreamlike.

 Who is this guy

    Teeth as sharp as daggers, comparable to a sabertooth matching his size, white eyes slit like a feline.


    "Meat," he muttered, digging his entire being into the flesh of the beast he had slain.


    The warrior''s armor was an intricate masterpiece of art and intimidation, fitting like a second skin and merging seamlessly with his form.


    Crafted from a dark, lustrous metal that gleamed with an almost ethereal sheen, it seemed alive, shifting shades of deep gray and silver with every movement.


    The armor adhered to his body as if it had been forged directly onto his flesh, hugging every contour of his lean musculature and accentuating the sleek, predatory lines of his build, making him appear like a lithe hunter poised to strike.


    He sat at the edge of the cliff, not too far off from the elevator''s door.


    "How could they not have seen me? Did I hide my presence" He whispered, eyes wide. "Kaelan''s back, Anna and Elara too," he continued under his breath,


    A striking feature of the armor was a bold, silver mark resembling a dragon spiraling across his chest, winding its way toward his shoulders.


    This vivid silver design contrasted sharply against the muted gray of his armor. The dragon''s form, dynamic and fluid, added a sense of movement, as though the creature itself were coiling protectively around him.


    His shoulders were shielded by high, curved pauldrons that rose gracefully, like the wings of a falcon in mid-soar.


    "Ah, the meat isn''t nice," he said, licking the blood off his fingers. "I''ll try raugdran next." His voice was low, almost a growl, as he tossed aside the chunk of flesh and eyed the distant horizon.


    The gauntlets, extending from the elbows to the fingertips, were a marvel of segmented plates designed for both protection and dexterity.


    Each finger ended in sharp, claw-like tips capable of tearing through flesh or clinging to rough terrain. Barbed hooks ran along the forearms, glinting menacingly in the light.


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    "Raugdran''s skin is really tough," he mused aloud, his pupils, already slit, becoming more fierce as his thoughts intensified.


    "Maybe I''ll hide behind a cliff like this one. And"¡ªhe paused, a vicious smile tugging at his lips¡ª"leap."


    Beneath the armor, visible at the joints and where the metal allowed for movement, was an underlayer of dark, flexible material, clinging to his body like a shadow. This underlayer was more than mere fabric.


    The lower half continued the motif of deadly elegance. His thigh guards were streamlined to protect without restricting his mobility, leading seamlessly into knee guards that flared slightly.


    The greaves bore ridges reminiscent of mythical scales, reinforcing his legs without adding bulk, and ending in boots designed for both battle and difficult terrain, gripping the earth like a predator''s claws.


    "Brother, could you help catch a wyrm? I haven''t eaten it in so long, I''m feeling hungry," he called out, though it was unclear if anyone was truly there.


    He continued to rip through the large chunk of flesh, a small fire beside him, which he seemed to used to roast the meat.


    From his waist hung a long, tattered sash, dark and muted, blending almost seamlessly with his armor yet adding a dynamic fluidity to his otherwise rigid appearance.


    The sash fluttered in the wind, as if animated by the same energy that fueled his every move.


    "If they are here, the meeting should be over," he muttered to himself, glancing at the distant figures below. "And the quest will¡ª" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "They didn''t pick their guide?"


    In his grip was a spear that felt like an extension of his own arm.


    The weapon was perfectly balanced, with a shaft wrapped in supple, dark leather that offered a secure grip.


    The blade split into two jagged prongs, each honed to a razor''s edge and slightly curved to catch and tear through any defense.


    Subtle engravings, mirroring those on his armor, adorned the prongs, hinting that the weapon and the armor were created as one,


    The warrior''s hair, long and wild, flowed down his back, white with strands of silver that caught the fading light like the polished edges of his armor. It framed a face that was both youthful and handsome.


    Standing at the edge of the cliff, watching the heirs but a few feet away from entering the estate, with smoke rising from distant fires and the artificial sky bathed in the soft glow of the unknown sun, the warrior was a figure of haunting beauty and quiet terror¡ªa shadow poised to pounce.


    "They shouldn''t have picked a guide yet," he repeated, this time with a wide grin spreading across his eerily perfect face.


    "There are two people there that I don''t recognize," he said, the grin fading as he sniffed the air. "But I notice the smell of that mage. Kaelan managed to get a mage¡ªthat''s perfect. Anna."


    Now clinging to the cliff, he focused on them a little too much, only his feet connected to the soil of the cliff, his predatory-like boots supporting the weight of his entire body, suspended in the air.


    His right hand shielded his eyes to see clearly.


    "I don''t recognize that boy¡­"


    Without a second thought, he left the meat he was ravishing and leaped, not using any skills, just pure physicality. Large dust clouds surrounded the area he left, the ground shattered behind him.


    "What was that sound?" Kaelan asked, glancing at Leonardo, who was walking right beside him.


    Leonardo turned slowly, eyes widening as he saw a figure rushing towards them at unforeseen speeds, his face distorted in a large grin.


    "Not Altan, he shouldn''t be here" Kaelan said, those words reverberating in Anna''s ears.


    "Oh fuck, run? No he''s already here" Anna whispered, her heart racing.


    Altan rushed towards them, the wind shattering around him as he neared, his spear still clutched tightly in his grip.


    "Hi!" he screamed, his voice carrying an unsettling cheerfulness as he closed the distance.

 Altan karzaar

    "Altan, wai¡ª" Kaelan tried to say, but Altan''s spear aimed directly at him. "Fuck!" Kaelan ripped the long sword from his back, bracing himself for the attack. "Astraea!"


    "Yes," Astraea muttered slightly, acknowledging the call as Altan reached them in an instant after leaving the cliff.


    "Who is that guy?!" Leonardo shouted, his voice tinged with shock as Kaelan and Astraea positioned themselves into what seemed like battle formations.


    "Altan Karzaar! Duck, Leonardo!" Anna yelled, trying to direct Leonardo away from the danger. He was standing too close to Kaelan.


    Kaelan fully unsheathed his sword, shifting into a style known as The Knight''s Ward,


    an offensive-defensive stance characterized by powerful, sweeping slashes that formed a protective perimeter around the wielder. This style emphasized both strong counters and maintaining a vigilant guard, making Kaelan appear like a fortress that could strike back with devastating force at any moment.


    All expectations were for Altan''s spear to clash with Kaelan''s longsword, but Altan defied them. In mid-air, he twisted his body, distorting himself unnaturally.


    He landed with his hands on the ground, using his legs with unrestrained power, shocking everyone.


    "Down!" Leonardo tried to warn, but Altan''s legs struck Kaelan''s chin with a brutal upward kick, even denting Kaelan''s armor.


    Both Kaelan''s guarded arms and longsword were rendered ineffective in a split second.


    Kaelan was lifted into the air momentarily, then thrown back a considerable distance.


    "That''s one," Altan muttered, his grin widening as Kaelan was sent flying.


    Altan standing slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You''re next. Let''s use my attachment skill, shall we?" The silver dragon mark on his armor began to glow faintly.


    "Altan, what is this?!" Elara screamed, unable to comprehend why he was doing this.


    "I''m just having fu¡ª" Altan began to say before a blast erupted, not from those talking but from Astraea. She directed a beam of light from her staff toward Altan''s position.


    Altan twisted his body with snake-like movements, his speed dramatically increasing. He wasn''t moving like a normal person;


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "He''s moving like an Argashis; they have multiple limbs" Leonardo muttered, watching Altan''s unpredictable movements; creatures found in the caves where Leonardo was from¡ªbeings that moved with a disturbing fluidity due to their multiple limbs.


    Altan feigned a strike with his spear, posturing as if he were about to launch it with deadly accuracy, only to drop it mid-air, shocking Astraea.


    With a swift, unexpected kick, he strikes Astraea''s face, sending her flying and almost knocking her hat and veil as she is knocked sideways "You''re all weak? Even a raugdran is stronger than you," Altan taunted.


    Kaelan rose once more, blue light swirling around him.


    "Is that a shield? His attachment skill must involve shields.. so defence?," Altan observed.


    "Sit down, Altan!" Kaelan roared, fury lacing his words as a radiant blue shield materialized on his left arm.


    "Ah, heir. I seem to have gotten a bit sidetrac¡ª" Altan tried to say, but Kaelan hurled the shield at him with incredible force.


    Altan''s eyes widened in shock. He managed to bend down, flattening himself to the ground with an extreme flexibility that defied normal human limits.


    "That would have hit if not for my-no it wouldn''t have," Altan said slowly, the shield embedding into the ground before fading out of existence.


    "You, come," Altan demanded, pointing at Leonardo. "That one''s down, and you seem to be Anna''s guide. Draw your sword" He pointed to Leonardo''s sheath, which was empty.


    [Adaptive Evolution]


    Leonardo''s vision blurred momentarily as fear seized his spine. This was the same feeling he had when he narrowly avoided death before¡ªa moment of heightened danger.


    "It''s¡ªit''s empty," Leonardo replied, staring at the towering figure before him.


    "Huhhh?" Altan dragged the word, appearing genuinely shocked. He moved closer, attempting to inspect the scabbard.


    Altan''s long white hair fell over his face as he peered inside. "It really is empty. Why even carry this thing¡ª"


    A punch struck Altan''s side where his appendix would be. Kaelan.


    "How did you reach here so fast?" Altan asked, looking down at Kaelan, who has closed the distance with surprising speed, and whose sweater was torn and tattered.


    Another punch landed, though it didn''t seem to hurt Altan much. It was enough to show that the prey could fight back.


    The effects [minimal enhanced strength],


    [minimal enhanced speed],


    and [minimal enhanced defense] manifest


    Three effects came.


    [no more bonuses into this area. Slight body advancements]


    How badly was he about to get beat?


    A hand is falling, Altan''s, approaching Kaelan.


    "Anna?! Astraea!" Kaelan calls out, his voice filled with desperation.


    "Pause," Anna commands she''s using her attachment skill, walking over to them. "Everyone, move."


    Astraea stands, her stance indicating she is charging up an ability.


    "Two categories" Elara notes, observing the situation.


    "Oh, this? The air seems..." Altan''s expression changes as he feels the imaginary pressure around him. He staggers but remains standing, his smirk not fading.


    "I haven''t fully activated my skill yet," Altan says with a smirk melding into his face.


    "Burst!" Astraea shouts, unleashing a large burst of energy toward Altan. The rest of the group has already moved to safety.


    "Ouch, that isn''t stopping me you know" Altan mutters, barely flinching as the energy slams into him.


    The dragon that emerges in Altan Karzaar is a magnificent and imposing creature, perfectly matching the color and aesthetic of his armor.


    The dragon''s scales are intricately patterned, with a subtle sheen that reflects light similarly to the shifting hues of Altan''s armor.


    These scales are not just armor; they seem to have an almost liquid quality, flowing and shifting with every movement, as if they were made from the same mysterious material as Altan''s protective gear.


    Its wings are expansive and majestic, stretching out like grand, bat-like appendages, with the membrane between the wing bones also displaying the same metallic luster.


    When unfurled, the wings create a formidable shadow, emphasizing the dragon''s size and presence.


    The dragon''s head is adorned with sharp, crest-like ridges running from the snout to the back of the head, echoing the jagged prongs of Altan''s spear.


    Its eyes are a piercing, cold white,


    Its tail is long and sinuous, ending in a spiked tip that could be used as a weapon, enhancing its predatory and combative appearance.

 Altan karzaar(2)

    "Snap out of it! It''s not real, I mean¡ªI don''t think it is!" Elara shouted, her voice breaking the eerie silence that had settled among them.


    She darted her eyes around, trying to gauge everyone''s reaction, searching for any signs that they were still grounded in reality.


    "Why is he doing this...?" Leonardo murmured, his voice shaky as he tried to draw himself back from the shock. His eyes darted from one distorted figure to the next, struggling to keep focus.


    "They don''t have a boss¡­ even the heads don''t have authority over them. Their only job is to guard the tower," Astraea panted, beads of sweat dotting her brow.


    The large image loomed above them still, a haunting figure that made their skin crawl. "It''s an aura, like a battle cry... he''s still there."


    "Oh, this is fun. I didn''t want to use this on you, but¡­ Anna didn''t pick me as her guide," Altan''s voice rang out, dripping with condescension. He took a step forward, his presence overwhelming, his white hair shimmering faintly in the dim light.


    Kaelan''s long sword fell from his grip, clattering to the ground. Before Kaelan could react, Altan''s spear was already in motion.


    He lunged forward, intertwining the prongs around Kaelan''s weapon and pushing it away with a violent jerk.


    Altan''s fluid movements created an impenetrable defense, each strike and parry seamlessly blending into the next.


    He spun the spear again, its blade a blur, and used its momentum to lock Kaelan''s movements.


    Then, with a burst of speed, Altan crashed into Kaelan, using his weight and leverage to send him sprawling to the ground.


    Kaelan gritted his teeth, trying to regain his footing, but Altan was already on the move.


    He spun on his heel, using his weight to crash into Kaelan, sending him sprawling to the ground.


    The impact left Kaelan winded, his vision blurred as Altan blurred out of sight.


    Kaelan''s disoriented gaze caught Altan''s swift movement towards Astraea. He dove at her feet, using his momentum to slide beneath her, and with a quick upward thrust of his hands, he knocked her legs out from under her.


    Astraea hit the ground hard, her staff clattering away as she struggled to catch her breath.


    Next was Anna. Altan dashed towards her, his movements fluid and predatory. He didn''t slow down, instead, he shoulder-checked her with just enough force to knock her off balance, sending her sprawling onto the dirt. Anna''s expression twisted in frustration as she tried to push herself up, but Altan was already gone, his eyes locked on Elara.


    Elara saw him coming, her mind racing. She took a defensive stance, preparing to counter, but Altan was faster.


    He ducked low, sweeping her legs from under her. She fell, landing hard on her back with a gasp. Altan moved past her, not even bothering to check if she would rise.


    Finally, Altan leapt at Leonardo, his form a blur of motion. He twisted in the air, his legs wrapping around Leonardo''s neck in a vice-like grip. Leonardo struggled, but Altan''s strength was unmatched.


    He used his upper body to pivot and slam Leonardo into the ground, the impact echoing like a thunderclap.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Altan didn''t pause, his hand reached out and pinned Leonardo by the shoulder, his grip unyielding.


    "He really meant he got stronger," Kaelan muttered, picking himself up from the ground. He watched Altan, still dazed from the sudden onslaught. "How? How is he so strong?" Kaelan''s voice wavered, the disbelief evident. "Was he genuinely just playing with us?"


    Everyone lay on their backs, scattered across the battlefield. Each of them had been dispatched without even feeling the wind shift or the sting of a blow.


    It was as if Altan had moved through them like a phantom, and the reality of their defeat was sinking in.


    "Ouch, my head!" Leonardo groaned, feeling the bruises along his neck where Altan''s armor had left its mark.


    Blood speckled the torn collar of his suit, but the suit''s regenerative effect had already begun knitting it back together.


    "And bye!" Altan announced, straddling Leonardo, raising his hand high above his head.


    sHis white hair fluttered like a banner, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He was poised to bring his fist down, a deadly strike meant to end it all.


    "Do you know how much I hate people?" Altan muttered slowly, almost casually, as his hand began its descent.


    "Wait, wait, wait!!" Leonardo screamed, desperation flooding his voice, his mind racing for anything that might halt the incoming blow. "I''m the Tour Guide''s son!"


    Altan froze. Not just his fist but his entire body seemed to seize up, caught in a moment of shock that rendered him completely still. His eyes widened, and he pulled back, his disbelief clear.


    "What¡ª"


    "Burst!" Astraea yelled, seizing the chance to strike. She forced herself into a crouch, her body aching, and with a flick of her hand, unleashed a concentrated beam of light from her staff. It struck Altan point-blank, sending a shockwave of light rippling outwards.


    "Just pause, and let Kaelan beat you up a bit," Anna added, her voice laced with mock irritation as she stood up, wiping dirt from her face. "My clothes were ruined, now my face, you prick."


    "My turn¡­" Elara said softly, stepping forward. She had stayed out of the fight, observing her voice soft but firm.


    She hadn''t engaged since the start of the fight, carefully observing Altan''s movements, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.


    She stepped forward, dusting the dirt from her blonde hair, her eyes locked onto Altan.


    "Anna''s skill is Fool," she continued, her voice carrying a calm confidence. "You want to know what mine is?"


    Altan looked at her, his expression half-amused, half-wary.


    "Literal," Elara declared, raising her sleeve and channeling the energy coursing through her veins. The air around her shimmered as she focused, the Rasvian energy intensifying.


    "That is gonna hurt," Altan remarked, a grin spreading across his face as he remained sprawled on the ground, seemingly unfazed by the impending effects of Elara''s power.


    "I''m joking!" Elara chimed, her smile widening slightly.


    She was about to explain her ability, but before she could elaborate, Altan''s confusion interrupted her.


    "Huh, what do you mean?" Altan inquired, tilting his head. "Is there anything funny about this?"


    "What? You were laughing all the time altan?"


    "Was I?" Altan replied


    "Never mind mine is Ras¡ª" Elara began, but her explanation was cut short.


    "C''mon, Elara, just place it," Anna interjected, her tone both urgent and authoritative.


    "Oh, okay," Elara replied, her expression shifting to one of focused concentration.


    She waved her hand over Altan''s frozen body done by Anna, her gesture causing a soft, radiant light to emanate, similar to the beams Astraea projects from her staff.


    "A barrier. Your skill set is really useful, but it isn''t going to stop m¡ª" Altan began, but his words trailed off as he realized the true nature of the barrier.


    "It isn''t meant to stop you," Anna replied calmly, cutting him off with a steady voice.


    "And Kaelan, don''t lose your wits. In truth, he was just having fun," Anna continued, addressing Kaelan with a reassuring tone.


    "Argh, fine. Let''s go before he breaks it," kaelan urged, his voice tinged with urgency.


    The group began to sprint towards the estate, leaving behind the chaotic scene Altan had caused.


    The environment bore the marks of their recent skirmish, with remnants of destruction scattered about.


    "Leonardo, you have some explaining to do," Anna muttered under her breath as they ran, her words a mix of frustration and concern.


    "Ok.. it was obvious" he replied his suit already regenerated,


    All that happened in 2 minutes.


    Altan, still seated on the ground, watched them leave. "Huh, they didn''t try to finish me. I was planning on killing that ''Leonardo'' boy," he mused, his gaze following their retreating figures. He then stood up, the barrier shattering instantly as he moved.


    Realizing he was running late, Altan hastened his steps, his dusted white hair catching the light as he hurriedly scratched at it. "I''m going to be late!" he exclaimed.


    He glanced around, contemplating his next move. "Ah, new or old? Oh I cant forget you now" he pondered aloud picking his spear and looking at the elevator in the distance.


    Taking a few more steps, he ran at good speeds leaving dust behind to what appeared to be the edge of a floor. Suddenly, a door materialized before him.


    "I hate being a guard, but that Leonardo boy sure is interesting, im still sad cant go on the quest, I sharpened my spear too.." Altan said with a wistful smile. Without further ado, he entered the door, which led to what seemed to be an empty abyss, vanishing into the void.

 Study!

    "That guy is a freaking monster," Leonardo panted, leaning heavily against one of the estate''s colossal gate pillars.


    Sweat trickled down his face as he struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving from the exertion.


    The recent encounter had left him rattled, and the stark reality of their situation was beginning to set in.


    The gates of the estate were nothing short of magnificent, towering iron structures adorned with intricate carvings.


    The gates themselves were not meant to enclose the entire estate but served as a grand entrance, a statement of the power and prestige that lay within.


    Flanked by massive brick walls that extended outward, each brick seemed to be meticulously placed, forming a fortress-like barrier that exuded strength and durability.


    This place, with its imposing architecture and palpable aura of authority, felt more like a stronghold than a sanctuary.


    "That was a warm welcome," Leonardo muttered, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he glanced at the gates towering above him.


    "Look, Leonardo," Anna interjected, still trying to steady her breath, "that guy would have killed us... maybe not us, but definitely you."


    "That''s not exactly reassuring," Leonardo shot back, his tone flat as he wiped the sweat from his brow.


    "He rendered my longsword useless like it was a twig," Kaelan grumbled, his voice dripping with frustration and disbelief.


    His hands flexed. "I thought my defense was top-notch for my age, but then the golden child shows up."


    "He''s one of the Seven. What did you expect?" Anna replied, shrugging as if to dismiss the concern. "But you''re right. They''ve been calling him a prodigy for years. We should have known better than to underestimate him."


    [where ever altan is right now]


    Meanwhile, deep within the door where altan entered, Altan stood alone in a room full of darkness.


    A sly smile curled his lips as he imagined the others, likely now discussing him in hushed, anxious tones.


    "They should be talking about me right about now," he mused aloud, his voice a soft purr of satisfaction. "Kids are so fun to toy with." His smile widened, revealing sharp, predatory teeth as he ran his tongue over them. "I''m hungry. Wyrm should be nice... out of the tower it is."


    He paused, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. A subtle shift in the air caught his attention. "Sister," he whispered into the darkness, his voice carrying a mix of affection and mischief.


    From the shadows, a figure emerged¡ªAltan''s sister, her presence almost ethereal in the gloom.


    Her form was cloaked in darkness, only her eyes standing out, glowing eerily in the dim light. Altan''s stark white eyes met her unsettlingly vivid purple ones, their gaze locking in a silent exchange.


    "Oh, brother," she drawled, her voice dripping with casual indifference. "Didn''t notice you there... or maybe I did. Anyway, had fun? Big brother is looking for us outside the city¡ªthis one," she concluded, her speech tapering off into an abrupt silence.


    For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, an invisible tension crackling in the dimly lit room.


    Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Altan shattered the silence. "SIS!!" he shouted, rushing toward her with an exuberance that belied his earlier calm. "It''s been a week, I think.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    And outside the tower again? We''ve been out a bit too much¡­ are we really protecting the tower? Also can I get two days first? I want to do something."


    "Altan, you know it''s big bro''s orders. Plus, isn''t it fun to hunt those demons?! Eeeee!" she squealed, her excitement almost palpable.


    A purple light began to glow beneath her chest plate, mirroring the sliver glow from Altan''s own armor. Her voice was filled with a twisted glee, as if the thought of ripping through their enemies filled her with an almost childlike joy.


    "And sure, you''re free to do whatever you want, really. We have a month to prepare anyway.


    The holiday''s about to start too, so get ready," she added with a nonchalant wave of her hand.


    As she spoke, the eerie purple light radiating from her armor and eyes gradually faded, leaving the room in near-complete darkness once more.


    "A month¡­" Altan echoed, his grin widening into something far more sinister. His teeth gleamed menacingly in the shadows, a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped him.


    Back at the estate''s grand entrance, Kaelan stood before the gate, his impatience growing by the second.


    His eyes were narrowed in frustration, unable to see his face thanks to the armour, its tellable he isn''t smiling. "Open the door, please. A year is short, and this year is also packed with erupting events. I should start as soon as possible," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument as he cut into Anna and Leonardo''s conversation.


    "It was just a single fight, Kaelan. We weren''t prepared¡ª" Anna began, trying to offer some reassurance, but Kaelan wasn''t having it.


    "Anna, he dodged my attachment skill like it was a measly third-rate skill," Kaelan interrupted, his voice laced with bitterness.


    He gestured at his now battered attire, the remnants of his hoodie barely hanging on, his armor dented and scarred from the brutal encounter


    "You''re right, but¡ª" Anna tried to respond, but Kaelan wasn''t interested in any further discussion.


    "No buts. Training remains," Kaelan declared firmly, brushing past them with purpose. "Let''s go, Astraea," he called over his shoulder, striding purposefully into the estate.


    "And I''ll still be going to the Grand Bibliotheca,i didnt forget that" he added, directing his words toward Elara.


    "Definitely," Elara agreed, her enthusiasm palpable. he gripped her longsword tightly, its edge glinting as if it shared kaelans same resolve


    As they approached the estate, the architecture was a testament to the grandeur of high nobility.


    The estate was dotted with minor houses resembling minor two story buildings, each building reflecting a blend of medieval and classical designs. The architecture evoked a sense of ancient opulence, with high ceilings, intricate stonework, and elegantly crafted windows.


    The centerpiece of the estate was an enormous mansion, its front flanked by colossal, intricately carved pillars that rose high into the air.


    before that a large fountain with a few cherub as its center piece as its main design is seen, its base wide with water.


    The mansion exuded an aura of authority and permanence, its sheer size and grandeur making it clear that it was the heart of the estate.


    Expansive lawns of meticulously maintained grass stretched from the towering gates to the mansion''s grand entrance.


    The grass was a rich, deep green, contrasting with the black, expertly crafted stone paths that wove their way through the grounds.


    They continued walking, passing by large vases filled with a vibrant array of plants. The estate''s entrance was a masterpiece of architectural precision, every element meticulously placed.


    As they made their way through, the intricate design of the building''s facade caught the eye, each corner a testament to the legacy of those who had once ruled here.


    "Leonardo, we''ll need to talk," Anna said, her tone a mixture of urgency. "I don''t like the idea of whatever training Kaelan is about to commit himself to, so I made an alternative, we''ll need to read all year round!" Her smile was genuine, though her concern was evident.


    "Study!!" Elara chimed in, her enthusiasm for the Grand Bibliotheca evident. "I can''t wait to dive into the knowledge there, Its been a while actually "


    "What type of books does it hold?" Leonardo asked, trying to recall the library in Volnia, which had been filled with towering stacks of books arranged in circular staircases going up into the ceiling artistically,


    Volnia''s narrative is unique in that it doesn''t draw on the stories of others but instead weaves together the experiences and histories of its own people.


    Each section of Volnia''s chronicles is a tapestry of individual lives and contributions, reflecting how these personal stories have shaped and built the land.


    Unlike other regions where external tales influence the narrative, Volnia''s essence is crafted from the collective experiences of its inhabitants, illustrating how their journeys and actions have directly molded the nation''s history and identity.


    This approach ensures that the land''s story is deeply rooted in its people''s lived experiences.


    Which is similar to the bibliotheca but.. better


    "Books?" Elara responded, shaking her head. "The Bibliotheca doesn''t hold books in the archaic sense. It''s more like... words come to life. It''s hard to explain well. We''ll reach it soon, maybe tomorrow or the day after. I''m tired now, right, Anna?"


    "Archaic.." Leonardo thought,


    "Yeah," Anna agreed, nodding. "Change my outfit and get some rest. And wait for Dad."


    "What do you mean, words?" Leonardo interjected, trying to grasp Elara''s cryptic description.


    "Words become real¡ª" Elara began to explain, but suddenly a barrier materialized, cutting her off and splitting the group into three segments.


    "Elara!" Leonardo shouted, reaching out in vain as the barrier formed between them.


    "See," Elara said with a teasing smile, "it''s kinda not exactly like that." She continued, her tone light-hearted as she walked toward the large door, which was slightly ajar. "I like my attachment skill. I''m glad Altan liked it too."


    "What do you mean? Is the translator messing up again."


    [no]


    As the barrier begins to dissipate , Elara turned and walked through the door,


    "Home!!" Elara called out with excitement as she crossed the threshold, eager to begin their next chapter of study and preparation.

 It really is huge

    "The doors are open¡ªKaelan should be inside¡­ never mind, he''s probably at the training grounds," Anna said, approaching the grand, open entrance. The ornate door loomed high above, intricate carvings of mythical beasts and elegant patterns decorating its surface.


    "There''s a training ground here? How big is this place?!" Leonardo exclaimed, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer size of the mansion.


    "There are already several buildings out there for the maids or whatever." He gestured vaguely toward the sprawling estate outside, where smaller yet still imposing structures dotted the lush landscape, surrounded by meticulously kept gardens that stretched into the horizon.


    "Yeah, it''s further up, past the large door on the top floor," Elara interjected, her voice light but firm.


    She demonstrated with her hand, mimicking a small figure walking up an imaginary staircase before turning a corner. "And the maids are probably at the training grounds too," Anna added, nodding in agreement.


    "See? Real simple," Elara continued, her fingers still moving in the air as if tracing invisible paths.


    She sighed, letting her hand drop. "I wanted to nap, but we are gonna talk, but its good too, I guess."


    "Clothes first," Anna reminded, her attention not straying toward Leonardo even once, as if he were an afterthought.


    "Oh, right." Elara nodded, catching the hint and pulling at her own rumpled attire.


    Heavy, motorized curtains hung at the tall windows, their deep charcoal fabric engineered to perfectly block out daylight, operated seamlessly with a remote control or automated to adjust with the time of day.


    These curtains, crafted from sound-absorbing materials, not only enhanced the room''s imposing aura but also added a touch of privacy and insulation, creating an atmosphere that was simultaneously imposing and intimate.


    The walls, a sophisticated blend of textured panels and smooth surfaces, subtly incorporated hidden lighting fixtures that highlighted the architectural intricacies of the space, reminiscent of high nobility but executed with the precision and sleekness of modern design.


    Multiple large, low-profile sofas lined the spacious entrance, their upholstery a rich, deep blue made from plush, stain-resistant fabrics, blending comfort with durability and contrasting elegantly with the pale walls.


    Each sofa was flanked by minimalist side tables crafted from tempered glass and brushed steel, adding a sleek, futuristic touch.


    The expansive room was anchored by a grand, sliding glass door to the side, with a matte black frame suggesting access to another wing of the mansion, its frosted panels offering a glimpse of privacy while maintaining the open flow of the space. Another section was obscured by a towering, load-bearing foundation column, cleverly integrated into the design as a sleek, marble-clad feature that supported the upper floor without interrupting the visual continuity.


    At the far end of the room, a sweeping, cantilevered staircase split into two branches, its steps crafted from reinforced glass and edged with stainless steel railings, leading up to a balcony that housed yet another massive door, this one an impressive pivot design made of rich, dark wood with metallic inlays, a nod to tradition amidst the modern aesthetics.


    The upper balcony overlooked the entrance with a clear, tempered glass balustrade, allowing an unobstructed view of the entire space below.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Miniature, suspended chandeliers hung beneath the upper floor, their minimalist, spherical designs made of frosted glass and steel, each an orb that diffused light in soft, ambient halos.


    The light danced off numerous polished vases displayed on recessed shelves, each vase a unique, contemporary art piece, while small, exquisitely carved couches¡ªmodern interpretations of classical designs with sleek lines and sumptuous fabric¡ªdotted the periphery, likely intended for guests during grand occasions.


    The attention to detail extended to the smallest elements: the subtle patterns in the marble, the seamless integration of advanced lighting controls, and the harmonious blend of luxury and modernity that defined the room.


    "This place is enormous, it genuinely is huge!?!¡ªit''s like Richard''s house but four times over. It''s like a palace!" Leonardo shouted, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. He spun around, marveling at the sheer scale of the room that seemed to stretch endlessly.


    "If you think this is big, wait until you see the Marquis'' estate," Elara said, her eyes gleaming as she gestured with her hands, stretching them as wide as she could. "I''ve only been there once, but it''s¡­ well, this huge."


    Anna rolled her eyes and turned to Leonardo. "Sit on the couch, Leon. We''ll be back soon." She waved dismissively, heading towards the stairs with Elara close behind.


    "Bye!" Elara called, following Anna with a playful skip in her step.


    Leonardo watched them ascend the stairs, disappearing behind one of the three large doors at the top floor.


    He walked over to a lounge area on the side of the room, defined by a series of low walls and open arches. It was clear this was meant as a sitting lounge, with no doors to separate it from the rest of the hall, only a few steps away from the entrance.


    He chose the couch furthest back, near an open door that led into another segment of the mansion, two chairs flanking it on the west and east sides.


    The lounge was tastefully furnished but devoid of any particular grandeur beyond what he''d already seen.


    Leonardo settled into the couch, its fabric creasing slightly under his weight, and glanced around idly.


    "Training grounds¡­ there must be a sword around here. Something that fits my sheath, anything." He muttered to himself, his thoughts drifting back to the recent battle where he felt powerless, reduced to a mere spectator.


    Even Elara, who hadn''t joined the fight until the very end, proved more useful than he had. He sighed deeply, frustration bubbling up within him.


    "Did they use their Unwritten Skills during the fight?" he wondered aloud, his mind racing through the events.


    "Elara seemed to know stuff, and Anna¡­ well, Anna was just Anna. I guess we''ll talk about it when they get back."


    He adjusted his position, sinking deeper into the couch as his suit creased further against the fabric.


    Leonardo''s thoughts shifted abruptly. "Why didn''t they pick Altan Karzaar, or whatever his name was again? He was strong, really strong." He leaned back, his head resting against the back of the couch as he pulled out his empty sheath, still attached securely at his side.


    "It''s empty," he repeated, almost mockingly. His voice carried a note of disbelief as he echoed the words Altan had said. "Why even carry this thing then?" he mused"he was going to say ''then''", recalling the moment Astraea intervened with that blinding light¡ªsimilar, but not the same as Elara''s greenish hue. He pondered over the significance of the green color


    He continues says looking at the text, giving him the word, [green].


    He laid his head back and slipped the sheath back in place. "I really don''t know how this Rasvian stuff works¡­ I saw someone literally move the air, another casually create a freaking barrier." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I''m supposed to be the smart one. If Ronald were here, he''d be just as lost as I am right now." His voice trailed off into a resigned silence as he stared blankly at the high ceiling.


    Restless, he started fidgeting, lifting his legs slightly before letting them drop again. He repeated the motion, his mind swirling with questions and uncertainties.


    "How well does my skill even work? Don''t answer that, text," he said with a wry smile, glancing upwards to the ceiling meeting the ornate foundation above.


    He stood abruptly, hopping off the couch in a swift, almost impulsive movement. He walked toward the other end of the lounge, away from the open door, eyes scanning for anything sharp or useful.


    The walls, though richly decorated, offered nothing practical. Turning his gaze back, he took in the room in its entirety¡ªthree couches, luxurious and far more comfortable than any bed he''d known.


    "Why''d I expect to find a sharp blade here?" he muttered under his breath, kneeling to check beneath the couches and among the lavish cushions. "Why do I even want to pierce my skin?" He paused, a pang of melancholy hitting him. "Ronald would have stopped me. I miss him."


    He lingered in the center of the lounge, his frustration and sadness blending into a seething anger. "That guy¡­ that smug look on his face," Leonardo whispered fiercely, his fists clenching.


    "He brought me here." His steps grew heavy, each footfall resonating with the weight of his simmering rage as he marched back toward his original seat. "I should''ve gotten his name, that man¡­ it''s been two days in this blasted kingdom or district ,He has to be here."