《Bound By Stars [Dark Progression Fantasy]》


 Chapter 1: Beneath the Pale Moon

    Chapter 1: Beneath the Pale Moon


    A village slept under the moon¡¯s pale light, unaware of the approaching danger. The Small town was nestled in a remote, insignificant ridge surrounded by pine trees. This town sat quietly under the moonlight, and at the center of it stood a two-story stone manor, owned by the town¡¯s mayor. A dim room was softly illuminated within the stone manor as silver shine passed through a tall, thick stained-glass window, casting intricate patterns on the hewn stone walls and wooden beams. The soft glow gently revealed parts of the room that were otherwise veiled in darkness. A wooden desk and matching chair were set against one wall, while a canopy bed made of carved wood stood directly opposite. On the bed lay a young man in a simple tunic, likely in his late teens, sleeping peacefully on his feather-stuffed mattress.


    This young man, Abel, slept soundly after a long day of helping his family with town management and attending literacy classes with the local scholar. Despite his peaceful slumber, a hint of anticipation could be seen on his brow, as only he knew how excited he was to learn swordsmanship from his father the next day. Abel was of average height for his age, with short brown hair and slightly tanned skin. The room was cool, the air carrying a passive chill. The familiar scent of leather, wax, and incense lingered until, in an instant, it was replaced by the acrid smell of metal and smoke. Abel''s nostrils twitched slightly as his body began to detect the change. Before he could wake naturally from his dreamland, the heavy sound of footsteps vibrating through the wooden floors startled him awake.


    ¡°Knock! Knock! Knock!¡±


    ¡°Abel! Abel! Open up!¡± his mother''s voice, full of alarm, called out from the other side of the wooden door. The knocking was hurried and panicked.


    Abel jumped out of bed and hurried to the door, his heart racing frantically from the sudden disruption. Something as chaotic as this in the middle of the night had never happened before. On his way to the door, he grabbed a hanging brass holder that held a candle, his hands trembling slightly.


    Opening the door, he found a middle-aged woman, the same height as Abel, with brown curly hair cascading down to her shoulders. Her striking gaze was now sharp and piercing with urgency. She wore a dark blue kirtle with white embroidery on the cuffs, and in her hand was a brass holder carrying a lit candle, which Abel quickly used to light his own.


    ¡°Mom, what¡¯s going on¡­?¡± Abel asked, his voice still tinged with sleepiness and confusion.


    His mother shook her head, a look of desperation in her eyes, and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him along toward the end of the hall and the stairs. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time, Abel! Your father and I¡ªwe have to protect you. The town¡ªit¡¯s not safe anymore!¡± Her voice shook as she spoke, and she quickened her pace, her grip on Abel¡¯s hand tightening.


    They reached the stairs and began to run down toward the first floor and the front door of the manor.


    ¡°But Mom! Why so suddenly!?¡± Abel¡¯s voice was frantic, his mind unable to grasp the sudden chaos unfolding around him.


    Still pulling him, his mother responded, her voice breaking, ¡°It¡¯s too complicated¡ªyour father and I¡ªwe tried to make this village a safe place for everyone¡ª¡±


    As Abel and his mother descended the stairs, a tense scene unfolded before them. A small group of familiar faces gathered in the dimly lit hall¡ªhis father, Luther the family guard, and several village warriors. Their hushed, urgent conversation was punctuated by the muffled sounds of battle outside¡ªscreams and the clashing of metal filtered through the thick walls of the manor. The air was suffocating with tension, fear clinging to every corner of the room.


    When Abel and his mother reached the group, his father and Luther quickly moved toward them, both visibly tense. Abel¡¯s father, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a long black beard, placed a firm hand on Abel¡¯s shoulder. His thick eyebrows were furrowed with worry as he handed Abel a belt holding a sheathed dagger.


    ¡°Abel! Take this,¡± his father¡¯s voice was commanding but underlined with desperation. ¡°Go with Luther to the stables. You must escape as quickly as possible!¡± His father¡¯s dark blue tunic and sturdy black boots made him look taller and more imposing than usual. He pointed toward a side door leading to the back of the manor, where Abel knew the stables were located.


    The stables, where a carriage waited, would be their escape. But Abel could hardly grasp what was happening. His father, the respected and beloved mayor, had always been so calculating and protective of his people. The village had grown and flourished under his leadership, with no clear sign of unrest. Abel struggled to understand how everything could turn to chaos so quickly. Just this morning, he had picked berries with his mother. Now, everything felt surreal.


    Abel was lost in thought when Luther stepped forward. ¡°Sir, with all due respect, I cannot leave your side,¡± Luther said firmly, his loyalty and sense of duty clear. ¡°I can send one of my men to accompany him. He¡¯s a qualified warrior, and capable of protecting the young master.¡±


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    Abel¡¯s father paused, clearly conflicted. His eyes flickered between Luther and Abel, a storm of emotions passing through him in those fleeting moments. Reluctantly, he nodded, accepting Luther¡¯s proposal. ¡°Go,¡± he said softly to Abel, his voice heavy with both sorrow and urgency.


    Luther called out to one of his men, a warrior clad in light leather armor, who understood the command without hesitation. He moved swiftly, grabbing Abel¡¯s arm and leading him toward the stables. Abel, still in a haze of confusion and grief, was stunned by the abruptness of it all. His mind was swirling with memories¡ªquiet days spent with his family in their peaceful village. It felt as though those cherished days were slipping through his fingers.


    As the warrior guided Abel toward the stables, Abel¡¯s eyes filled with tears. He turned back, watching as the figures of his parents grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view. The sight made his heart ache, but there was no time to process it. The warrior wasted no time in placing Abel into the waiting carriage, his movements efficient and sharp. Before Abel could even catch his breath, the horses took off, their hooves pounding against the ground with relentless speed.


    The wind rushed past Abel¡¯s face, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by the chaos that had descended on his once tranquil home. The weight of the dagger at his side was heavy, a reminder of the unknown dangers that awaited. As the carriage sped through the village, Abel could only hope that his parents would be safe, and that this nightmare would end before it could take everything from him.


    Abel was consumed with fury, but he restrained himself. He understood that the warrior beside him was simply following orders, orders given by his parents in a desperate bid to protect him.


    The warrior¡¯s voice was strained, heavy with guilt as he spoke. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, young master... It¡¯s for your safety. The villagers... they¡¯re being slaughtered, but Luther will do everything to ensure your family¡¯s safety.¡± His words carried a deep sorrow, but there was little comfort to be found.


    Abel¡¯s tears fell uncontrollably as he stared out the small carriage window. Dark shapes moved through the village in the distance¡ªtwisting shadows cast by the fires and chaos that had overtaken the streets. Flickering lights danced ominously against the night sky, and the cries of his people reached his ears like haunting echoes. His heart clenched as he balled his fists, feeling an unbearable weight settle over him.


    Powerlessness. It consumed him entirely. He had grown up in this peaceful village, surrounded by a loving family and kind neighbors, but that world was being ripped away before his very eyes. The cries of the villagers seemed distant, yet close enough to strike fear deep into his soul. The warrior beside him had tried to console him, but it was no use.


    Abel¡¯s life had shattered in a matter of hours. Everything he knew¡ªthe simple joy of walking through the village, the laughter of his family, the safety he had taken for granted¡ªwas slipping through his fingers like sand. He could do nothing but watch as his world burned behind him, fading into the distance as the carriage sped forward into the unknown.


    ¡­


    The carriage bounced violently as the horses galloped, their speed fueled by the fear that hung thick in the air. Inside, Abel gripped the dagger tightly to his chest, the blade cold against his skin, grounding him in the midst of chaos. The coachman, voice strained with fear, shouted back, ¡°We¡¯re being followed! We have to cross the Palito Bridge¡ªhold on!¡±


    Abel¡¯s heart raced at the mention of the eastern ravine, a place tangled in dark legends whispered by the village¡¯s elders. Parents used tales of the ravine to scare children from wandering too far, stories of kids vanishing into the depths, never to return. Those myths now seemed all too real, lurking just beyond the edge of reason.


    The carriage rumbled across the uneven dirt roads, its frame rattling so violently that Abel feared it might collapse under the strain. Splinters of wood flew off, the wheels struggling to grip the road. When the bridge came into view, Abel¡¯s breath hitched¡ªit was nothing more than a fragile structure, a relic of an old world that should have long since fallen apart. It swayed ominously in the wind, teetering over the yawning ravine below, as if daring them to cross.


    The coachman hesitated for a moment, his knuckles white as he gripped the reins. Abel could sense his fear¡ªhe was considering abandoning the carriage, leaving them all to fend for themselves. But something kept him there, perhaps loyalty or the sheer terror of the consequences if he fled.


    As they approached the bridge, Abel heard the unmistakable sound of galloping hooves growing louder, the rhythm of their pursuers beating like war drums behind them. His pulse quickened as the danger closed in. But just as they reached the edge of the bridge, the galloping stopped. Abel glanced back, his heart in his throat, but there was nothing. Their pursuers had stopped at the edge, unwilling or unable to cross the perilous structure.


    Relief washed over him for a brief moment, but it was fleeting. The bridge creaked ominously as the carriage began to cross, its wooden planks groaning under the weight. The wind whipped through the ravine, sending a shiver down Abel¡¯s spine. He could feel the pull of the abyss below, as if the darkness itself was reaching up to claim them.


    The carriage swayed dangerously as they made their way across, each gust of wind threatening to tear the fragile bridge apart. Abel gripped the seat tightly, his knuckles turning white as he stared ahead, willing the horses to keep moving. The sound of the ravine''s eerie whistle filled the air, mixing with the creaks of the planks beneath them. Abel¡¯s breath hitched with each step the horses took, the fear of falling consuming his thoughts.


    They were halfway across when the bridge let out a loud crack, sending shockwaves through the carriage. Abel¡¯s heart leaped into his throat as he felt the bridge give way beneath them for a moment before miraculously holding. The horses neighed in panic, their hooves slipping on the unstable boards, but somehow they pressed on, driven by the same primal instinct to survive. As they were approaching the other side, there was a feeling of relief.


    There was also a brief moment of eerie silence, and then suddenly, a loud snap echoed through the ravine. The sound reverberated off the walls, and in that instant, time seemed to slow. Abel¡¯s stomach lurched as the ground disappeared beneath him. The weightlessness of freefall gripped him with icy terror, and all he could do was cling to the dagger as the carriage, the horses, and the coachman plummeted into the ravine, shattering the myth that it only pulled in children.

 Chapter 2: Whispers Under the Cloak

    Chapter 2: Whispers Under the Cloak


    A faint light could be seen in the distance within a pitch-black world. It moved slowly through the darkness, occasionally swaying left and right as it moved.


    The light grew stronger, revealing itself as a large wooden vessel sailing through dark, ominous waters. The boat was a double-decker, its sturdy frame lined with windows on both the first and second decks. A guiding lantern atop the deck cast a steady glow, cutting through the surrounding gloom.


    Two hooded figures stood at the bow of the boat, facing outward as their cloaks swayed in the wind. Their features were hidden beneath the hoods. The only difference between them was the color of their boots. The figure sitting at the bow wore brown leather boots, while the one beside him wore black boots.


    The standing figure spoke in a raspy voice, ¡°This ravine will never not be spooky, huh?¡±


    There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but he wasn¡¯t expecting a response. He knew his partner''s temperament all too well. The non-gifted¡ªthose who lacked the natural affinity for magic¡ªhad endured many tribulations, and it had left most of them scarred in ways that ran deep. Silence was the norm, and he had come to expect it.


    This was his second time traveling through this dark ravine, though this time he did so with a completely different status. The ravine still looked and felt the same: a place where the wind carried the scent of earth, minerals, and decaying vegetation. It was a scent that added to the ominous atmosphere, making the area feel both ancient and foreboding.


    The standing figure spoke again, his voice breaking the silence, ¡°Do you remember the first time we sailed through here? I was terrified, I couldn''t sleep until we reached the shore...¡±


    Once again, his words were met with silence. A few minutes passed before the seated hooded figure finally spoke in a soft, feminine voice, ¡°You never seem to stop talking.¡±


    The hooded man, undeterred, quickly responded, ¡°Look, Apostle Essence, we''ve been doing this task for almost a month now, and we are finally on the way back to the tower. Let loose for once¡­ I, for one, can''t wait to get back to my lab. I''ve made some discoveries during this trip.¡±


    Hearing this, the seated figure, called Essence, didn¡¯t respond. Instead, she gazed out at the horizon, her thoughts calm as she watched the darkness. She turned her gaze disdainfully toward her companion, knowing that as a Gifted, he couldn¡¯t possibly comprehend the struggles she had endured. His path had been laid out for him from the moment he was born, while she had to fight to simply build hers. Their views of the world were fundamentally different.


    ¡°We are below the quota of recruits,¡± Essence spoke softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern. ¡°The Tower Master might be displeased.¡±


    The standing figure shrugged, his tone dismissive. ¡°Can he blame us? The mundane has become even more ignorant and distrusting. Besides, they¡¯re constantly at war over insignificant things. Do they even deserve the opportunity we¡¯re giving them? Maybe they were never meant to understand magic, to begin with. Humph!¡±


    As he spoke, his irritation became more evident. He continued, ¡°Besides, our Stone Tower is the nineteenth tower in the kingdom¡ªthe newest one, built just forty years ago. It''s normal for our recruitment to be slow for the first fifty years!¡±


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    Although he tried to sound confident, there was a feeling in his heart that they might indeed displease the Tower Master. They were supposed to bring back at least fifty recruits for assessment, but at the moment, the boat barely had thirty.


    As they reflected on the missed quota, Essence suddenly pointed ahead, her voice sharp with alertness. ¡°What is that? These waters are typically calm.¡±


    Both figures turned their attention to the water ahead, where debris was scattered across the surface. Pieces of wood and broken wheels floated apart slowly, barely visible in the inky black water.


    The male figure was surprised by how far ahead Essence had spotted the debris, especially in such darkness. He had truly underestimated his task partner.


    Essence stood up, her posture tense as she looked more alert than usual. Slowly, her robe parted, revealing a tentacle that resembled that of a purple squid. It slithered out of the darkness of her robe near her torso like a performer entering the stage, its length seemingly endless as it reached toward the water, searching for something.


    ¡°Apostle Essence,¡± the man spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, ¡°is this the tentacle you acquired from killing that Sand Assassin? Those creatures are hard to come by, and it seems like it¡¯s given you quite the boost in strength from the transplant, huh? Now I see why you became an Apostle so quickly¡ªat their peak, those creatures can give even a seasoned Apostle a run for their money.¡±


    The man, Apostle Flint, observed the thick tentacle as it continued to stretch out, now lifting a body out of the water. He wasn¡¯t particularly shocked by the tentacle¡ªhe knew that the non-gifted tampered with different technologies and methods to achieve power and become Apostles. What caught him off guard was the deadly aura that the tentacle emitted.


    ¡°Apostle Flint, grab the Parched Seed. There¡¯s still a faint heartbeat in this young boy, and we can add him to the quota. If only more bodies fell from the sky,¡± Essence remarked, her tone laced with dark humor. She glanced upwards, toward the top of the ravine, which seemed impossibly far away.


    Flint, who had been watching as the tentacle fished out the young man, placed his hand inside his robe and pulled out a small seed, no larger than his fingertips. The seed resembled a mango pit but with a strange tiny face etched into it. The face looked as though it were asleep, its eyes closed, showing no reaction to Flint''s movements.


    Essence gently placed the body of Abel down on the wooden floor of the boat, her eyes analyzing him. ¡°Seems like he fell into the ravine a few minutes ago. Shouldn¡¯t the mundane be avoiding this area?¡±


    Flint shook his head and crouched down beside Abel, who lay unconscious. He positioned the Parched Seed above Abel''s mouth and, with his other hand, opened the boy¡¯s mouth. With a firm squeeze, the tiny black eyes on the seed opened in alarm, its small mouth widening with a strange squeaking sound. Slowly, water began to escape from Abel''s mouth and nostrils, as if being vacuumed from deep within his body.


    As the water thinned and finally ceased, the tiny face on the seed curved into a wide grin. Gradually, the seed began to metamorphose, blossoming into a small flower that glistened with a faint white aura.


    ¡°When I sell this, I¡¯ll split the profits between the two of us. We never expected to find this seed on this task, let alone find the perfect criteria to use it,¡± Flint spoke, his voice filled with elation. The criteria to birth a Parched Seed were specific and rare, requiring, among other things, a body that had genuinely drowned.


    Essence nodded, turning to walk away. ¡°I¡¯ll take him to the medical room on the first deck.


    ¡°Good,¡± Flint responded, watching as she moved away. ¡°Whether he likes it or not, he¡¯ll be coming with us. I just hope he doesn¡¯t die of shock when he finds out there¡¯s a world of magic hidden in plain sight.¡± Flint chuckled, still in a good mood after birthing the seed.


    Essence didn¡¯t respond, but in her mind, she thought, ¡°A cruel world of magic¡­¡± Her tentacle extended once more, gently wrapping around the now-breathing Abel, lifting him off the deck as she carried him farther into the ship, leaving Flint to contemplate the events of the day.

 Chapter 3: Between Fate and Loss

    Chapter 3: Between Fate and Loss


    Cough!


    Cough!


    Cough!


    Abel slowly opened his eyes, furiously coughing and gagging, his body convulsing in an effort to expel something from his lungs. Despite his great effort, nothing seemed to come out. His throat burned, and his chest ached as he struggled to breathe, the remnants of a nightmare fading as reality set in.


    Finally snapping out of his daze, Abel realized he was no longer drowning. Instead, he found himself lying on a thin straw bed inside a wooden room. The scent of herbs filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the straw. Curtains hung around the bed, and a desk and chair stood to the side, cluttered with medical accessories and various instruments. The room swayed gently with the motion of the boat, and the sound of pebbles sliding around the floor added to the strange ambiance.


    Abel''s mind swirled with a flood of memories from his village¡ªhis family, friends, and the simple life he once knew. The weight of those memories was unbearable, and with each passing second, a deep sense of grief and longing welled up within him. The realization that they were all gone, that he had no idea what had become of them, tore at his heart.


    The pain was overwhelming. It came in waves, each one sharper than the last, leaving him breathless. His chest tightened, and his vision blurred as tears began to pool in his eyes. He tried to steady himself, but the sorrow he felt was too intense, too raw to control. It was the kind of sadness that stripped away all defenses, leaving him vulnerable and hollow.


    But just as his sobs threatened to take over, Abel suddenly became aware of his surroundings. The ache in his heart was momentarily overshadowed by the strangeness around him. He was in a place that felt alien, foreign, like a dream that had taken a turn into a nightmare. The environment around him felt distorted, like the reality he had known had slipped away.


    As Abel scanned the room, something caught his eye, making him jump back with a gasp.


    Gasp!


    Pain shot through his chest as he sat up abruptly, the sudden movement causing him to wince. For a moment, he almost forgot the pain, his eyes fixed on the figure sitting on a bed a few meters away. The figure was facing Abel, and as Abel analyzed the room, the individual was doing the same to him.


    Abel instinctively moved one of his hands from his chest to his waist, where the knife his father had given him was still securely fastened. Relief washed over him knowing the knife was still there, and he gripped the handle tightly, ready to defend himself if necessary.


    The figure was tall and strong, dressed in a knee-length tunic belted at the waist. The red tunic contrasted sharply with the black cotton pants he wore, the black embroidery on the collar and cuffs adding a touch of elegance to his otherwise plain attire. The man''s face was stoic, almost expressionless, save for the small scar that split one of his thick eyebrows above his right eye. Facial hair was beginning to sprout around his mouth, giving him a rugged appearance.


    ¡°You''re finally awake. You''ve been unconscious for three days¡ªI thought you were dead,¡± the young man said, his voice low and steady.


    Abel took a moment to process the words, his mind still struggling to catch up. He was trying to understand the individual in front of him, someone he didn¡¯t recognize. The man¡¯s head was almost block-shaped, his features sharp and defined. Abel¡¯s confusion only deepened. Where was he? And who was this person?


    After taking a moment to look around the room, Abel could tell he was inside some kind of medical facility. His mind began to piece together the situation¡ªthese people had taken care of him, ensuring he was alive. They couldn¡¯t possibly intend to harm him, could they?


    The last thing Abel remembered was the feeling of weightlessness, followed by a crushing impact, and then... nothing. Now, he was awake in this unfamiliar place. Finally processing what the other person had said, Abel replied, ¡°Who are you? Where am I?¡±


    As he spoke, Abel placed his hand back on his chest, feeling the sharp pain spread throughout his body. The pain forced him to lie back down on the straw bed, though he kept his eyes focused on the stranger.


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    The young man stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over Abel. He looked at Abel with a hint of pity before making his way toward the door. ¡°I¡¯m Sena, and you¡¯re on the Mossy Floater, one of the Stone Tower¡¯s vessels. Didn¡¯t your parents explain anything to you before giving you away? You¡¯re in bad shape; you should get some rest.¡±


    Abel struggled to understand Sena''s words as if he were speaking a foreign language. ¡°Mossy what? Stone what? I was never given away¡ªI need help.¡±


    Sena, who had approached the door to exit, paused for a moment before turning his head to look at Abel again. Could this boy truly be that ignorant? How had he ended up on this boat? Now even Sena seemed intrigued, his curiosity piqued by Abel¡¯s apparent lack of knowledge. ¡°You truly don¡¯t know?¡±


    From his position on the bed, Abel shook his head, confusion etched across his face.


    Sena fully turned, leaning against the doorframe as he exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of the situation. ¡°How did you get here? This is a boat sent to recruit young people for the tower. Usually, only families with a history in magic get the chance to send their youngsters out.¡±


    Abel¡¯s face twisted slightly as he tried to piece everything together. ¡°Magic¡­? I fell down the ravine, and the next thing I know, I¡¯m here.¡±


    The boat swayed slightly, causing Sena to adjust his leaning position. ¡°Falling down the ravine and still alive? You¡¯re a lucky person¡­¡± His expression shifted as he spoke, almost as if he was recalling something important. ¡°¡­ Maybe¡­ You were saved by those Apostles, I¡¯m guessing, which means you¡¯re coming with us. Now whether that¡¯s luck or the opposite really depends on how you turn out in the tower.¡±


    Abel was trying to absorb all the information Sena was giving him, trying to create some kind of mental map to navigate this strange new world. The idea of Apostles, magic, and ancient families¡ªnone of it made sense to him.


    ¡°What are Apostles? And why just big families and not everyone? Wouldn¡¯t everyone contributing to the study of magic bring forth more inovation?¡± Abel inquired, still trying to gather as much information as possible. The frustration in his voice was clear. The recent events weighed heavily on him, and he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if magic could have saved his village and his parents. Why was something so powerful restricted and hidden from the world?


    Sena chuckled, finding Abel¡¯s thoughts both naive and amusing. ¡°Magic is vastly different from what the mundane people in those backwater provinces read in their books. It¡¯s dangerous, hard to grasp, and not something that just anyone can control. You must be gifted with an attribute to even begin to understand the concept of magic. It¡¯s reality-bending for the average person¡­ And being gifted usually runs in the blood of these big ancient families. It¡¯s a lucky hand by fate to be born into one of these families, a natural hierarchy created by the world.¡±


    Sena paused before continuing, his tone becoming more serious. ¡°As far as I know, Apostles are people in high positions within the tower. My family holds them in supreme reverence, and it¡¯s said they¡¯re capable of superhuman feats. My father once told me that a friend of my grandfather was an Apostle at one of the kingdom¡¯s towers, which is why I have this opportunity. I know the road to becoming an Apostle relies on many factors, as well as many challenges, but I¡¯m determined to reach the heights my grandfather friend once did. Everything I¡¯m telling you is what my family has passed down to me, and it¡¯s not much of a secret among the bigger families in the Rollan Kingdom.¡±


    As he spoke about his family and their history, Sena¡¯s pride was evident. For a brief moment, he puffed out his chest, a smile playing on his lips.


    From what Abel could gather, there seemed to be an organization sending out these individuals called Apostles, who met with specific families deeply rooted in history. These Apostles recruited young people from those families to bring them back and teach them magic, hoping they would make breakthroughs in magical knowledge. It was all too much to take in. Abel clenched his fists against his chest, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to process everything. He didn¡¯t even notice how much he was wrinkling his gray cotton tunic.


    ¡°Why are you in the medical room?¡± Abel asked, his voice a bit weaker now.


    Sena, who had been leaning against the door, finally opened it, stepping out as he spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve been having issues with my ankle the past few days, but I¡¯m better now. You should get some rest too. We have a few more days till we reach the shore.¡±


    As Sena walked away, he turned back one last time, a serious expression on his face. ¡°Also, not everyone in the tower or on this boat is your friend. Leave the flowers and sunshine in the past because, from now on, the road might be very treacherous, and not every recruit makes it to the level of Apostle.¡±


    With that, Sena closed the door behind him, leaving Abel alone on the bed, contemplating and reorganizing all the information he had gained. The thoughts of his family and his village were still plastered on his mind, though. It all felt too overwhelming¡ªmanaging this new world of information, trying to discern if there were any malicious intentions from his captors, and coping with the loss of his family.


    For the moment, Abel decided to push aside thoughts of his current predicament. Instead, his mind wandered back to the tranquil times he had spent in the village with the other children, playing with the cute animals and enjoying the care his mother and father had always given him. He thought of Amanda the baker, Joe the fisherman, Aunt Bella, and all the people who had helped him learn something throughout his youth. As he lay there, still touching his chest and staring up at the wooden ceiling, tears once again began to race down the sides of his face, soaking into the straw bed. This was a much-needed moment of solitude, a time to grieve for the life he had lost and the uncertain future that was ahead of him.

 Chapter 4: Echoes of a New World

    Chapter 4: Echoes of a New World


    Abel¡¯s eyes were puffy, and his nose was slightly red. After Sena left him to his thoughts in the medical room, Abel cried until his face was streaked with tears and mucus. The tranquility he once possessed had been destroyed so abruptly and without any control on his part, filling his heart with regret. The powerlessness he felt while being carried away was a disgusting sensation that he never wanted to experience again.


    Deep within his mind, Abel unknowingly planted a seed of motivation to prevent such things from happening in the future. Subconsciously, he longed for a tranquil life again¡ªone without worries or fear for his safety¡ªand he resolved to do whatever it took to make that a reality.


    He sat up from his lying position and turned to the side, sitting on the straw bed. He took a few deep breaths, wiping away any remaining moisture on his face. His tunic, now completely dry, felt rough against his skin as he patted it down. Abel stood up from the bed, though a faint lightheadedness struck him as he rose. After a few calm breaths, the dizziness faded, and he began to feel better.


    He looked around the room, noticing that the other beds were empty, and the chair near the desk was unoccupied. He was truly alone in the medical room.


    Creak!


    The medical room¡¯s door moved slightly, sending a creaking sound toward Abel''s ears. He turned his head, a newfound curiosity drawing him toward the door. He walked over and gently pushed it open, allowing himself to step into a hallway just over a meter wide. The walls were lined with a few doors and abstract paintings of strange fish and shapes, the colors muted by the dim light. This decorative layout led toward the end of the hall, where a single door swayed slightly with the wind and the gentle sway of the boat.


    Creak!


    Woosh!


    The dark wooden door moved back and forth as if dancing with the calm winds that occasionally sipped into the hallway. Each time the door opened slightly, a thin stream of light crawled into the hall, only to retreat when the door slowly closed again, ending the trail of light.


    Abel walked toward the slightly opened door. As he approached, a cool breeze passed him, sending a chill down his neck and beneath his ears. He pushed the door open and stepped out onto a partially lit deck. Barrels were placed here and there, and stairs led up to the upper deck. The wooden planks beneath Abel¡¯s feet were rough and weathered, their edges softened by years at sea. The horizon, a thin line between the pitch-black sky and the dark water, reflected a faint glimmer of moonlight. The breeze, now fully embracing him, carried the fresh, salty air of the sea into Abel''s nostrils, leaving a faint fishy aftertaste on his tongue.


    He let go of the handle and walked toward the center of the deck, looking back at the towering decks above him. The ship was much larger than he had expected, and as he looked around, he realized that water stretched as far as the eye could see¡ªany sign of the ravine was gone. They were finally out of it.


    The ship was one of the largest structures Abel had ever seen, especially one used for transportation. He gazed up at the upper decks in awe, watching as the circular windows reflected the cold light of the partially exposed moon in the sky.


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    ¡°You should go back to your room. Curfew is at sundown.¡± The voice of a man came from the side, cutting through the quiet night.


    Abel turned quickly to face the speaker. Thanks to his conversation with Sena, he was more aware of his current predicament, allowing him to better navigate the situations he might encounter on this ship.


    A hooded figure stood on the side, his features obscured by the darkness of his robe.


    Understanding that this individual likely held some power on the ship due to his authoritative tone, Abel guessed that the hooded figure might be an Apostle leading the vessel toward the tower. ¡°I wish to return to where I came from, Mister Apostle. I ended up here by mistake,¡± Abel said, his voice cautious yet probing.


    Though Abel knew his situation was unique and that there was no chance they would turn the ship around just for him, he still hoped to gather more information.


    ¡°Mistake? I Apostle Flint, believe It was fate, young man. You should be kneeling, thanking the heavens for granting you such a fortunate future.¡± The hooded figure¡¯s tone was mocking, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath the surface. ¡°There isn¡¯t a way to take you back. Your best chance might be to wait until you become an Apostle or take up a task in the tower that requires travel and return to where you came from. Otherwise, take advantage of the hand you''ve been dealt and do something with it.¡±


    Silence filled the air after his comment, hanging heavily between them. Abel looked down at the weathered planks beneath his feet, accepting his fate with a mix of resignation and determination.


    The hooded figure, who Abel now understood to be Apostle Flint, shook his head slightly, the movement causing the shadows within his hood to shift. ¡°There is so much more to the world than you think. You can¡¯t be so narrow-minded and lose your way. Think of the bigger picture. I¡¯ll show you this once, so look closely.¡±


    Flint raised one of his hands, exposing fair skin with fingernails painted red. As his hand lifted, a red aura began to surround his fingers, and with a sudden flash, four small balls of fire ignited and floated above his palm.


    Abel¡¯s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. His knees shook slightly as his mind went blank, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He had seen candles catch fire and even embers igniting things, but this¡­this was something entirely different. The flames danced in the air, defying all natural logic.


    He raised his hands to his eyes, rubbing them in disbelief, but the flames remained, floating around Flint as if tethered to his will. A few seconds passed, and Flint lowered his hand, causing the small balls of fire to disintegrate into the air. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you this,¡± Flint continued, ¡°keep that knife of yours close. It might prove useful in the future. And¡­if you ever become an Apostle, search for me: Apostle Flint. Maybe there is more to this nightly meeting than we think, and perhaps you can repay me for opening your eyes to a world you would have never seen.¡±


    Abel instinctively placed his hand on his waist, where the small knife rested, nodding to the hooded figure without daring to meet his gaze. The words Sena had spoken to him earlier now made sense, and he began to grasp why these people were revered. Could he, one day, wield powers that defied the natural order of the world?


    Before Abel, lost in thought, could think of leaving, Flint called out to him again and tossed a pair of keys his way. Abel caught them clumsily, his mind still processing what he had just witnessed.


    ¡°This key is to your room on the second deck. Get yourself acclimated; we have a few more days.¡± Flint¡¯s voice, now softer, lingered in the air as he faded into the darkness of the night, disappearing into the ship.


    Abel stood there for a moment, the weight of the keys in his hand grounding him in this new reality. He looked toward the stairs that led to the second deck, his thoughts swirling with questions and possibilities. With a deep breath, he headed toward his new room, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter 5: Waves of Resolve

    Chapter 5: Waves of Resolve


    Night had passed, and for most, it was as quick as a blink. However, to Abel, it felt like a lifetime. Throughout the night, his mind had been flooded with thoughts, at times becoming overwhelmed with emotions.


    He finally had time to process his interaction with the Apostle and the incredible sight he had witnessed. If what Sena had told him was true, then this massive vessel was taking them toward an organization that would teach them to do supernatural things. The possibility ignited something within Abel. If he could gain these powers, he could search for clues about the attack on his village¡ªand maybe even seek revenge.


    Overnight, a fire had been lit within Abel, forcing him to focus on survival and overcoming the challenges ahead. He vowed to achieve his goal of finding his parents and bringing them justice.


    The small room he occupied contained only a bed, with a circular window opposite the door. The rising sun filtered through the window, casting a soft glow that slowly roused Abel from sleep. Though he had only managed a few hours of rest, the gentle swaying of the ship had made it easier to drift off.


    He sat up in bed, remaining still as he listened to the activity outside. Many people were walking down the hall toward the deck, their voices growing louder as they passed his room. The walls were thin, and he had heard conversations throughout the night¡ªsome of which were useful. He learned, for instance, that the Stone Tower was the nineteenth tower in the kingdom. However, much of the chatter was filled with gossip and condescending remarks, like the ones echoing outside his door now.


    ¡°Our estate is so vast that it takes an entire day just to ride in a caravan from one end to the other. Do you even have a proper garden or just a vegetable patch?¡± a male voice sneered.


    ¡°Our bloodline is one of the oldest in the land. Some people can only dream of such heritage,¡± another voice added, dripping with superiority.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lovely dress¡ªthough it¡¯s last year¡¯s fashion, isn¡¯t it? I suppose not everyone can keep up with the latest trends,¡± a feminine voice chimed in.


    The voices came and went, giving Abel a clear sense of the people he was now surrounded by. Though his father had been the mayor of a town, Abel knew that title meant little in the grand scheme of things. The youths on this ship came from noble families with vast estates and ancient bloodlines¡ªfar removed from the simple, hardworking community where Abel had grown up.


    His thoughts drifted to the knife at his waist. Abel pulled it out, his fingers gripping the black and silver handle. As he unsheathed the blade, a rush of adrenaline surged through him, nearly causing him to drop it. The dagger was more than it seemed¡ªholding it made him feel lighter, more agile as if his entire body had been tuned to a higher frequency.


    ¡°What is happening?¡± Abel muttered, bringing the knife closer to his face, his eyes wide with bewilderment. His body felt energized, alive in a way it never had before. ¡°How did they get this?¡± he wondered, thinking of his parents. With their modest means, it seemed impossible that they could have acquired such a strange item. The mystery of their origins deepened, filling Abel with both curiosity and a sense of urgency.


    Testing the effects, Abel stood on his toes and moved back and forth, marveling at his newfound speed. ¡°Incredible¡­¡± he whispered, but soon after, his body began to ache, the exhilaration replaced by a creeping discomfort. He sheathed the dagger, realizing that its boon came with a limit¡ªfifteen seconds of enhanced ability before his body could no longer sustain it. Thus was very abnormal and it must''ve had something to do with the "magic" the Apostle spoke of.


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    ¡°I should go outside, maybe socialize a bit, and get some more information,¡± Abel thought, stretching before moving toward the door.


    Reaching the deck, he saw different groups of people standing in circles, already forming their own cliques. Each youth wore expensive accessories, dazzling dresses, and tunics made from luxurious materials. Abel approached the first group he saw, but as he drew near, their conversation halted, and they turned to stare at him.


    A short blonde girl looked him over, her gaze cold. ¡°Do we know you?¡± she asked, her voice tinged with irritation.


    Taken aback by the hostility, Abel forced a smile. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Abel Solano. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡±


    The group exchanged glances, some with confusion, others with thinly veiled disdain. ¡°Solano? Never heard of your house,¡± a young man said dismissively. ¡°Please don¡¯t interrupt us. If you¡¯re looking for cleaning tools, there might be some near the medical room.¡±


    Abel¡¯s heart sank as he turned away, their laughter following him as he walked toward a space on the deck. He stared out at the sea, its vastness both beautiful and ominous. The rolling waves held mysteries he couldn¡¯t yet fathom, but he knew he had to keep moving forward, no matter how isolated he felt.


    As he gazed at the horizon, his thoughts were interrupted by an argument on the other side of the deck. A young man with an orange bob cut and a green waist bag was squaring off with a girl in a yellow and black tunic. Abel watched as their heated exchange escalated, the boy¡¯s pride giving way to anger as he pulled out a bottle from his waist bag.


    The bottle was made of glass, sealed with a wooden cork. Inside, a strange blue gaseous entity moved about in tranquility, occasionally turning translucent and back again. The boy placed his other hand on the cork, his eyes narrowing in defiance. ¡°Your words are as empty as your family¡¯s so-called legacy, Isabella¡ªlet me, Edmund, show you the strength of a true heir!¡±


    He pulled the cork, and the gaseous entity began to shake uncontrollably. It rushed out of the bottle, flying around the boy before quickly taking the shape of a strange bat-like creature with eight wings, the tail of a beaver, and eight eyes. It flapped its wings furiously, making its last lap around the boy before launching itself at Isabella.


    People around Abel began to murmur.


    ¡°A magical artifact? No way!¡± a girl said, her voice tinged with awe.


    ¡°He¡¯s going too far!¡± another exclaimed.


    Before Isabella could even react, a hooded figure moved faster than the gaseous entity and intercepted it in mid-air. The figure threw out a punch that combusted the air in front of it, causing an explosion that dissipated the gaseous entity, sending the remaining wisps of blue gas back into the bottle.


    Everything happened so fast that Abel barely had time to process it. The control of fire and the speed at which the figure moved made Abel realize that this was the same person he had spoken with the night before.


    Flint stood there, his gaze fixed on the boy, his expression dark. He shook his head before issuing a stern decree. ¡°You are to return to your room and not come out until tomorrow. If you do, I¡¯ll throw you off this ship myself. Fighting on board is prohibited, and I will not hesitate to turn you into a lesson.¡±


    His tone was harsh, laced with deadly intent, as he gave the boy one last chance.


    The boy, Edmund, glared at Flint but knew better than to argue. He turned and stormed off toward the stairs, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand.


    Abel watched Edmund leave, his eyes lingering on the bottle. ¡°So these are magical artifacts¡­¡± he thought, his mind racing with possibilities. It seemed that the dagger he possessed was also a magical artifact, based on the boon it granted him. Seeing Edmund¡¯s bottle helped him understand that magical artifacts came in all shapes and sizes, each with its unique abilities.


    As Abel pondered this, someone approached him from the side.


    ¡°These nobles sure are careless, huh?¡± the newcomer said, their tone light but tinged with sarcasm.

 Chapter 6: The Fogs Deception

    Chapter 6: The Fog''s Deception


    "These nobles sure are careless, huh?" a newcomer said, their tone light but tinged with sarcasm.


    Abel, who had just watched Edmund walk away, turned his gaze toward the speaker. Standing before him was a young man, almost a head shorter than Abel. The boy had a slender build, suggesting he was more accustomed to studying and indoor activities than physical labor. His complexion was fair, almost pale, indicating that he spent most of his time inside. His face was long and narrow, giving him a somewhat delicate and aristocratic appearance.


    The young man was dressed in a fitted tunic made from fine wool, dyed a deep forest green. Over his tunic, he wore a dark gray doublet, which added a layer of formality to his outfit. The doublet was fastened with small, silver buttons that ran down the front, and it featured a high collar that gave him a composed and dignified look.


    Abel nodded to the young man, who began speaking once more. "You have a cautious aura about you; that''s a valuable trait for surviving the tower. I can also sense there''s more to you than meets the eye. Come to room eighty at sundown. There¡¯s a group of like-minded individuals willing to collaborate on surviving in the tower."


    The boy adjusted the glasses perched on his nose, pushing them up slightly, allowing his deep blue eyes to see better.


    "That''s interesting, but who are you?" Abel asked, wondering why the boy was being so cryptic.


    "Ah, right! I''m Ronald. My background and status won''t matter where we are going, but I¡¯m someone fully focused on having a successful path toward becoming somebody in the Tower and outside of it. There are others on this ship who are also uninterested in the mundane world and would rather focus on the magical world we¡¯re entering. We meet in room eighty and dabble in the magical arts, trying to grasp anything we can before reaching the tower." Ronald scratched his head, a hint of embarrassment on his face, realizing he had just dumped a lot of information on Abel.


    Abel¡¯s mind buzzed with excitement at this interaction. Everything he wanted at this moment had just landed in his lap, as if his wish had been granted. He would gain more information about the tower and learn more about the world of magic. Of course, he remained wary of schemes, knowing the character of some of these nobles.


    "I¡¯m Abel. It¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I believe that this initiative to expand our knowledge in magic is smart, and I would be happy to be a part of it." Abel extended his hand, and Ronald met it with his own, shaking hands with one another. Thanks to his etiquette classes when he was young, Abel could navigate communications with these nobles. Although Ronald said he was indifferent to noble titles, Abel still decided to play it safe.


    "Good. I''ll see you then. We¡¯re reaching the Foggy Coast soon; you know what that means¡­ Don¡¯t end up lost," Ronald said, half-joking, assuming Abel understood the subject matter he was referring to.


    Abel nodded, unsure of what Ronald was speaking about. However, if this veil of mystery allowed others to see him as a knowledgeable figure, he wouldn¡¯t want to ruin it. "Aren''t we already lost in this world?" Abel said, looking away, trying his hardest to appear mysterious. He knew he was speaking nonsense, but did Ronald?


    "Indeed, our true path is finding ourselves. I¡¯ll see you later." Ronald smiled and turned to walk away.


    Abel smiled back and exhaled inwardly, relieved that his bluff had worked. He contemplated Ronald¡¯s words as well as the events that had transpired earlier between the two nobles. He took one last breath and walked toward the stairs, deciding to head back to his room.


    ¡­


    The Mossy Floater sailed through the sea, parting the waters along its wake. Just ahead, a wall of white fog loomed, towering over the vessel. This wall of fog stretched far and wide, its thickness giving it the appearance of a solid, impenetrable object.


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    Atop the Mossy Floater, near the guiding light, stood Flint and Essence, gazing forward toward the fog.


    "We should activate the guiding light¡¯s stored ability to help us make it through the Foggy Coast. Without it, we¡¯re doomed to be lost within this treacherous fog forever," Flint said.


    Essence nodded slowly. "The smart recruits should be safe, especially with the protection of the guiding light. However, some of the fog might seep through and cause mental confusion. Hopefully, it doesn¡¯t lower the number of recruits; we¡¯re already below the quota."


    ¡­


    Inside a dimly lit room within the Mossy Floater sat a girl wearing a yellow and black tunic, her voice barely audible as she spoke to herself. She was the same girl who had a confrontation with Edmund on the deck of the boat. Sitting on her bed, facing the window, she murmured softly, "That bastard really dared to attack me. What would you have done? Don¡¯t tell me you knew the Apostle would intervene."


    Her words hung in the air, unanswered. The room was void of any other presence, yet she continued as if engaged in a conversation. If anyone were to witness this scene, they might think Isabella was unwell or even delusional.


    "What do you mean you''re not mature yet? Your venom should still be enough to take them out!" she hissed, her noble demeanor crumbling as she cursed in frustration.


    She was about to say more when she noticed wisps of fog seeping through the bottom of her door. Her eyes narrowed, and she whispered, "It''s time, just as mom and dad said. The fog is here. Protect me."


    Her tunic shifted slightly, and from within it, a small gray snake emerged, slithering down to the floor beside her. It began to circle Isabella slowly, creating a protective barrier. As it moved in a deliberate pattern, a soft white light enveloped Isabella, forming a shield that repelled the encroaching fog. She closed her eyes, furrowed her brow, and focused inwardly, her thoughts guarded as the fog continued to fill the room, unable to reach her.


    ¡­


    The world around Abel was bathed in a golden light as he found himself back in his village, the familiar sights and sounds wrapping around him like a warm blanket. He stood in the center of the town square, the cobblestone streets beneath his feet radiating a comforting heat from the midday sun. The villagers bustled about, their faces kind and familiar, each one offering a smile or a nod as they passed. The sweet scent of freshly baked bread from Manda¡¯s bakery filled the air, and Abel could hear the distant clatter of Joe the fisherman¡¯s cart as he prepared for the afternoon market. Everything felt so vivid, so alive, that Abel almost believed he had woken from a terrible dream.


    His mother appeared beside him, her brown curls catching the sunlight as she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. She was smiling, her eyes filled with warmth as they often were when they shared moments like these. Abel could feel the comfort of her presence, the way she always made him feel safe. His father stood nearby, laughing heartily with a group of townsfolk, his deep voice resonating through the square. The sound was so real, so reassuring, that Abel couldn¡¯t help but smile. He had longed for this¡ªthis peace, this normalcy, the simplicity of a life without fear or loss.


    But as he took a step forward, wanting to join his father, the ground beneath him seemed to ripple. The cobblestones shifted underfoot, their solid form wavering like the surface of disturbed water. He frowned, glancing down as a creeping sense of unease began to gnaw at the edges of his consciousness. The warm, golden light of the village began to dim, and the laughter that had filled the air turned hollow, echoing unnaturally in his ears. His mother¡¯s hand, once so comforting, started to feel cold, her grip tightening in a way that sent a shiver down his spine.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded as he looked around, the vibrant colors of the village bleeding into a dull, lifeless gray. The familiar faces of the villagers blurred, their smiles stretching into unnatural grins, eyes darkening into empty voids. The comforting sounds of the village distorted, turning into a dissonant hum that filled his head with a rising sense of dread. Panic surged through him as he tried to pull away from his mother¡¯s grasp, but her hand was no longer warm; it was icy, her fingers digging into his shoulder with an iron grip. The cheerful village square was melting away, replaced by a swirling darkness that clawed at the edges of his vision.


    "No¡­ this isn¡¯t real," Abel whispered to himself, his voice trembling as the last remnants of the illusion began to unravel. The village, his parents, the sunlight¡ªit was all a cruel trick, a mirage. The warmth that had enveloped him was gone, replaced by the biting chill of the night air. He was no longer in the safety of his village; he was no longer in his home and instead on the deck of the ship. White fog surrounded him, thick and oppressive, making it hard to see more than a meter ahead. The cold wind stung his face, and he could feel the rough wooden planks beneath his feet and hear the haunting call of the waves crashing against the hull, he was very close to the edge of the Mossy Floater.


    With a shuddering breath, Abel tore himself free from the clutches of the hallucination, his body trembling as the real world snapped back into focus. His heart raced, his mind reeling from the vividness of the dream that had almost consumed him. He had been so close¡ªso close to losing himself in that comforting illusion, to forget the pain and fear that now defined his existence.

 Chapter 7: Rituals and Magic

    Chapter 7: Rituals and Magic


    It had been nearly an hour since the fog had passed by, and Abel had learned firsthand about the dangers that lay beyond his village. The fog had easily placed him in a powerful illusion, and if he hadn¡¯t snapped out of it quickly, he might have found himself lost to the ocean. Seeing that the Apostles made no effort to protect the recruits from the fog suggested that making their way through it was a test of some sort¡ªa test of mental fortitude or luck.


    As he reflected on his earlier interaction with Ronald, Abel steeled himself for what was to come. He made sure his dagger was securely on his hip, ready to be drawn at a moment¡¯s notice. With determination, he left his room, walking down the dimly lit hall lined with numbered doors. The wooden floor creaked under his steps, and occasionally, he caught glimpses of curious eyes peeking out from slightly opened doors, watching him pass.


    After a few moments, he reached door number eighty and knocked twice, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.


    Creak!


    The door opened slowly, revealing Ronald, whose face brightened upon seeing Abel.


    ¡°Abel! How wonderful of you to join us today. Come in!¡± Ronald gestured for him to enter, and Abel stepped inside. The room was identical to his own, except the window faced the setting sun, casting a warm glow across the small space. The pink and orange hues of the sky painted a serene backdrop, contrasting the tense atmosphere inside.


    Abel¡¯s eyes widened as he recognized a familiar face¡ªSena, who was sitting on the floor with a surprised expression, clearly not expecting to see Abel there.


    Beside Sena were two other people. A young boy with curly hair resembling an afro sat cross-legged, his skin a glossy copper hue and his sharp hazel eyes observing Abel closely. Next to him sat the same girl Abel had seen confront Edmund earlier¡ªIsabella. Her posture was relaxed, but her expression was guarded.


    They formed half of a circle on the floor, with space for two more, completing a small group that barely fit in the cramped room. In the center of their circle were various items: two lit candles, a large bowl of water, a small bag of spices, and other strange artifacts that Abel couldn¡¯t immediately identify.


    Nando, the curly-haired boy, scowled slightly. ¡°Ronald, I said no more people. We can barely fit as it is, and if the Apostles catch us, it¡¯ll be on my head.¡± His tone was anxious, clearly uncomfortable with the growing number of participants.


    Isabella glanced at Abel, her voice softer but still laced with skepticism. ¡°And we don¡¯t even know if this guy will be useful to us in the tower. No offense,¡± she added, offering Abel a half-hearted smile.


    Before Ronald could respond, Sena stood and extended his hand toward Abel. ¡°Good to see you¡¯re doing better. Welcome to room eighty.¡±


    Abel shook Sena¡¯s hand, feeling more at ease with the gesture. It was a silent endorsement that he belonged here.


    ¡°Ah, so it seems you and Sena already know each other. Great,¡± Ronald said, gesturing toward the group. ¡°This is Isabella and Nando. Come, sit with us; we¡¯re about to discuss tonight¡¯s plans.¡±


    Abel nodded politely at the pair, and with Sena¡¯s and Ronald¡¯s approval, Isabella and Nando appeared slightly less wary. Abel moved to sit between Ronald and Sena, completing the circle.


    Nando eyed Abel before speaking. ¡°Since we¡¯re nearing the Stone Port and will soon reach the shore, I think it¡¯s time we attempt the Mirror Scrying Ritual I found in my family¡¯s hidden library. You all made it through the fog, so I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got the mental fortitude for it.¡± He looked at each member of the group, gauging their readiness.


    The others nodded in agreement, their faces a mix of curiosity and caution.


    ¡°A few days ago, we discussed the six magical attributes¡ªWind, Fire, Earth, Water, Light, and Darkness,¡± Nando continued. ¡°We also touched on the concept of being ¡®touched by magic.¡¯ Abel, are you familiar with this?¡±


    Abel shook his head, trying to play off his complete lack of knowledge. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a little, but I¡¯m not familiar with the details.¡±


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    Nando nodded. ¡°The general population of the world will likely never encounter magic. It flows around the mundane world like water around a rock, but sometimes, it touches the ordinary in unexpected ways. When someone experiences a magical encounter¡ªwhether through an artifact, a phenomenon, or some other means¡ªthey become ¡®touched by magic.¡¯ From that moment, they are more likely to encounter magic again.¡±


    Abel listened intently, his mind racing. He wondered if the dagger his parents had given him was why he ended up on this ship. Had it marked him in some way?


    Nando continued, ¡°Not everyone who encounters magic becomes touched by it. It¡¯s a rare occurrence, but those who are touched will face more magical events in their lives. That¡¯s the potential power of the ritual we¡¯re about to perform.¡±


    Nando presented the items in the center: five strands of hair tied together, a small bag of white powder, the lit candles, various spices, and a large bowl of water.


    ¡°Will the ritual make us ¡®touched by magic¡¯?¡± Sena asked, his voice filled with anticipation.


    Nando shook his head. ¡°Not necessarily. Becoming touched by magic could be a side effect, but the primary purpose of this ritual is to reveal a potential magical treasure we might miss in the near future. It¡¯s about foresight and preparation. Of course, as with all rituals, there are risks.¡±


    Ronald leaned forward, his skepticism clear. ¡°What risks?¡±


    Nando sighed. ¡°Rituals can attract malicious entities. They can corrupt the ritual, turning participants into mindless creatures, cursing them, or worse. It¡¯s rare, but it happens¡ªespecially to those without strong mental defenses. If anyone feels uncomfortable, now¡¯s the time to back out.¡±


    Abel felt a mix of fear and curiosity. The allure of seeing real magic was too strong, and he found himself leaning in, eager to witness what would unfold.


    Seeing no one move to leave, Nando began the ritual. He carefully placed the hair, salt, and spices into the bowl of water, then started to chant in a language that sounded ancient and powerful. The room fell silent, the only sound being the occasional creak of the ship as it cut through the water.


    At first, nothing happened. The candles flickered, and the room remained still. Just as Nando was about to speak, the candles¡¯ flames began to twist wildly, and the water in the bowl rippled violently, splashing over the edges. A foul stench filled the air, reminiscent of decay, making their eyes water and their stomachs churn.


    The clear water darkened into a black, oily substance that reflected a faint purple glow. The surface began to shift, revealing a vivid image of a crumbling tomb surrounded by ancient, half-destroyed caskets. The tomb¡¯s stone doors shuddered and slowly opened, revealing a dark void. From within, shadowy silhouettes emerged¡ªfigures that moved unnaturally, their forms barely distinguishable.


    After the fifth silhouette passed through the doors, the tomb quaked violently, causing the bowl to rattle on the wooden floor. A murderous aura emanated from the black water, sending chills down the group¡¯s spines. Abel and Ronald instinctively moved back, their instincts screaming danger.


    Nando moved to end the ritual, beginning to chant a counter-spell, but before he could finish, the water in the bowl exploded. From the dark liquid, a long, thin arm shot out, its three bony fingers wrapping around Nando¡¯s throat in a vice-like grip. The arm was covered in strange orifices that occasionally contracted, emitting a sickening stench that filled the room.


    Isabella reacted first, grabbing Nando and trying to pull him away, but the creature¡¯s grip was too strong. The group joined in, desperately trying to free him, but the arm only pulled Nando closer to the bowl. His face turned a dangerous shade of purple, and his eyes bulged as he fought for air.


    ¡°Abel, cut its arm! Do it now!¡± Ronald shouted, his voice laced with urgency.


    Without hesitation, Abel drew his dagger, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through him, it was almost electrifying as his senses and body felt alive. In a swift motion, he slashed at the creature¡¯s arm, the blade slicing through the grotesque limb with ease. The severed hand fell to the floor, twitching before finally going still. Nando, now free, gasped for air and quickly finished the counter-chant, causing the room¡¯s purple glow to vanish. The water returned to its clear state, and the eerie silence that followed felt almost suffocating.


    Nando collapsed onto the bed, clutching his bruised neck. ¡°Thank you,¡± he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Isabella stepped forward, pointing at the disembodied hand lying on the floor. ¡°We need to get rid of that thing. We can¡¯t risk it attracting more trouble.¡±


    Nando hesitated but then spoke, his tone pleading. ¡°I know you saved me, but if I can keep this hand, you''ll have an ally in the tower. In return, I promise to share another ritual with you all¡ªsomething that could be incredibly valuable.¡±


    Abel stared at the hand, torn between wanting to study it and recognizing the potential dangers it represented. Yet the promise of a new ritual¡ªand a powerful ally in Nando¡ªwas too enticing to refuse. The others nodded in agreement, sealing the deal.


    ¡°Great. But we should all head back to our rooms before anyone notices the commotion,¡± Sena said cautiously. The group exchanged brief farewells and departed, each lost in their thoughts about the night¡¯s events.


    As Abel walked back to his room, his mind buzzed with everything he had witnessed. The path to the tower was filled with uncertainty, but with allies like these and the knowledge he was beginning to gather, Abel was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter 8: The Path to the Tower

    Chapter 8: The Path to the Tower


    A new day had dawned, and the Mossy Floater was buzzing with chatter. Excitement and nerves were at an all-time high. Today, they would be reaching the Stone Port and finally setting foot on solid ground. For these young recruits, this moment symbolized their beginning¡ªa true initiation into the magical world that lay ahead.


    Abel stood on the deck, staring at the distant shore that was now finally visible. Large, thick, dark green trees loomed near the rocky shore, standing tall and ominous against the misty sky. The port itself was a structure of dark stone, jutting out like a jagged extension of the land. The wind had picked up, carrying with it a chill that swept through the deck and sent shivers down Abel''s spine.


    From the moment he had boarded the vessel, Abel had experienced one strange occurrence after another, each one chipping away at the na?ve sense of security he once had. His idea of the world was transforming, revealing a reality far removed from the mundane life he had known. Now, standing on the edge of that reality, he felt a mix of trepidation and a strange excitement.


    The ship slowly approached the port and docked with a low groan. Waiting for them on the stone pier was an older man with a flowing white beard, wearing a dark blue hooded robe. His eyes, sharp and piercing beneath his heavy brow, scanned the ship as if weighing each soul aboard. Behind him, a small, weathered cottage stood by the port, with smoke gently rising from its chimney. A narrow, winding path led away from the cottage, snaking into the depths of the dense forest.


    Apostle Flint lowered a plank, creating a bridge between the shore and the Mossy Floater. He signaled for the recruits to disembark, his expression stern and unyielding. "Cornelius, I am Apostle Flint, and this is Apostle Essence. We''ve brought in this year''s recruit batch."


    Flint descended the plank with steady steps, leaving Apostle Essence on the deck to direct the recruits off the vessel. She moved like a shadow, her presence commanding yet almost spectral.


    Cornelius, the old man, smiled faintly and reached out to shake Flint¡¯s hand. ¡°Ah, Apostle Flint! I was wondering which skilled Apostle would be handling the recruitment task this year. You¡¯ve returned on schedule.¡±


    Though Flint returned the smile, a worried look crossed his brows. He glanced at the recruits slowly filing off the boat. "We might be below the quota by ten heads," he muttered, his tone low.


    Cornelius gave a contemplative nod. ¡°Since you¡¯ve been away on the task, you might not have heard. We have more recruits returning from their expeditions and completing their yearly tasks than the faculty initially expected. There were some minor successes¡ªseems there might be a new batch of Apostles climbing the tower soon.¡±


    Flint didn''t respond immediately. His eyes narrowed, deep in thought. After recruits were brought in, they would undergo classes and research, learning the paths they might take. For the first six months, they¡¯d study and train, understanding the magic and trials of the tower. Once those six months passed, they would be sent on an expedition¡ªa test of skill and endurance, each with its own dangers and intricacies. Many recruits didn¡¯t return from these trials. Only those who survived would progress, potentially becoming Apostles and earning rooms and laboratories on the tower¡¯s upper floors.


    ¡°Well, that''s a relief,¡± Flint finally said, glancing back at the last few recruits stepping off the boat. ¡°I''ll leave the Mossy Floater to you.¡±


    Cornelius nodded and slowly walked up toward the ship, leaving Flint and Essence to lead the recruits into the depths of the forest.


    As the recruits assembled on the stone port, Abel couldn¡¯t help but glance back at the old man in the dark blue robe. Who was he? Why was he dressed differently from the Apostles? Could the color of their robes signify something important? Apostles wore black robes, while this older man wore a deep blue. Abel tucked these thoughts away for later.


    The recruits followed the Apostles into the forest, the path winding ahead of them like a serpent¡¯s trail. The dense canopy of enormous trees quickly swallowed them, plunging them into an eerie twilight. Shadows twisted and swayed with the wind, and beams of sunlight filtered through the thick leaves, casting ghostly patterns on the forest floor. The air was heavy with the smell of damp earth, rotting leaves, and the fresh scent of grass. Occasionally, a cool breeze carrying the scent of the distant sea would cut through, a reminder of the world they were leaving behind.


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    The dirt path twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the dark woods. Strange sounds¡ªbirds with haunting calls and unseen creatures scurrying through the underbrush¡ªechoed in the silence. Massive, ancient stones littered the area, their surfaces glistening like they were coated with a thin layer of dew or moss, occasionally sparkling with a mysterious light.


    Abel walked alone, trailing behind the rest of the recruits. While he had made some acquaintances in Room Eighty, none of them were openly walking with him now. A sense of isolation crept over him, mingling with the unease of this new environment.


    The path seemed endless until it suddenly widened into a small clearing, dominated by a gigantic stone covered in thick moss. The stone loomed above them, towering like a silent sentinel guarding the secrets of the forest. Its surface was rough and weathered, yet it emitted a subtle, almost imperceptible hum that Abel could feel resonating in his bones.


    Essence moved toward the stone and placed her hand on its cold, rough surface.


    Hummmm!


    The stone began to vibrate, its deep hum growing louder and more resonant. A thin crack appeared at its center, glowing faintly. As the vibrations intensified, the crack spread vertically, splitting the stone nearly in half. Pieces of rock started to crumble away, falling like dry earth, but instead of revealing a hollow center, the stone began to erode away into itself, crumbling into a wide tunnel that seemed to defy the stone¡¯s original size.


    Abel¡¯s eyes widened. Was he seeing things? The stone was enormous, but it hadn¡¯t seemed wide enough to contain such a vast tunnel. He rubbed his eyes but quickly stopped, reminding himself that he was in a world of magic now¡ªwhat was real might not always conform to logic.


    Flint and Essence stepped into the newly formed tunnel, their figures swallowed by the darkness almost instantly.


    ¡°Follow us,¡± Essence called out softly, her voice echoing within the deep black void.


    The recruits hesitated but soon followed, stepping into the pitch-black tunnel. The air within was unnaturally still¡ªthere was no echo of footsteps, no rustle of movement, not even the faintest whisper of wind. It was as if the tunnel existed in a separate reality, one removed from the natural world.


    After what felt like an eternity in the suffocating darkness, a dim light appeared at the far end. As they drew closer, the recruits could see the soft beams of sunlight breaking through the canopy, illuminating the exit with a golden glow. They stepped out of the tunnel and into a new forest, similar yet distinct from the one they had left behind. The air here felt different¡ªthicker, charged with some unseen energy. Pieces of leaves and fluffy yellow flora, akin to catkin, floated lazily from above, adding an ethereal quality to the scene.


    ¡°Woah!¡± a voice murmured among the recruits, breaking the silence.


    Abel was equally mesmerized. His gaze drifted across the landscape, taking in the towering statues scattered throughout the forest. Each statue was unique¡ªone depicted a bull with ten horns, another a knight with a massive shield. Each exuded a sense of power, their stone eyes watching over the intruders like ancient guardians. They stood at least three heads taller than the Apostles, and each possessed an aura that commanded respect and fear.


    The path continued, winding around trees and statues, until it opened up into a wide clearing. At the center of the clearing stood a massive stone tower, rising like a monolith among the trees. It was an imposing structure¡ªold, weathered, and covered in patches of moss. The stones were perfectly aligned, forming a seamless exterior that stretched up into the sky. Rectangular windows lined its surface, dark and uninviting, giving little away about what lay inside.


    As they neared the tower, a middle-aged man wearing a dark blue robe¡ªsimilar to the older man at the Stone Port¡ªapproached them. His head was bald, and intricate floral tattoos covered his scalp and neck, giving him a peculiar yet striking appearance.


    ¡°Are these the recruits?¡± he asked, his voice deep and carrying an authoritative weight.


    ¡°Yes, our mission is complete,¡± Essence replied softly, while Flint nodded in agreement beside her.


    The man studied the two Apostles for a moment before speaking. ¡°Head back to the task room. Elias will discuss your mission details with you. I¡¯ll take these recruits to be assessed.¡±


    Without a word, the two Apostles turned and walked toward the tower, their black robes fluttering slightly with their movement.


    The bald man turned his gaze on the recruits, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing. ¡°You¡¯ve arrived at the Stone Tower,¡± he announced, his voice carrying an air of both welcome and warning. ¡°We shall head to the Pillar for your assessment. May fate be kind to you.¡±


    As Abel looked up at the towering structure before him, a mix of fear and determination settled in his heart.

 Chapter 9: The Pillar’s Judgment

    Chapter 9: The Pillar¡¯s Judgment


    Whatever lay ahead in the Stone Tower was bound to test the limits of his courage, intellect, and resolve.


    Abel felt a chill run down his spine, not from the cool air, but from the sense of foreboding that seemed to seep out from the very stones of the tower itself. The others around him were equally tense, their faces a mix of curiosity and anxiety. The stone path beneath their feet seemed to hum with hidden energy, guiding them toward their unknown destinies.


    The recruits followed the tattooed man, their footsteps crunching on the pebbles of the path that led to a grand, circular platform at the base of the tower. The platform was vast, made from intricately carved stone with symbols and glyphs that glowed faintly as the recruits stepped onto it. The air around them felt charged, and there was a soft, almost imperceptible hum, like the whisper of an ancient power stirring beneath the surface. The hairs on the back of Abel¡¯s neck stood up, sensing the dormant magic that slept within these stones, ready to awaken.


    At the center of the platform stood a large stone pillar, rising about ten feet high. It was covered in more of the strange carvings that seemed to pulse rhythmically, like a heartbeat¡ªan ominous, slow rhythm that seemed to synchronize with Abel''s own. The bald man turned to face them, his expression as cold and unyielding as the stone around them.


    ¡°This is the Pillar of Assessment,¡± he announced, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. ¡°It will read the essence within each of you and determine your potential path within the Stone Tower. This is where you begin to understand your affinity¡ªor perhaps, discover nothing at all.¡±


    A murmur rippled through the recruits. Some exchanged anxious glances, while others looked on with unwavering determination. The bald man¡¯s gaze swept over them, his eyes sharp and unblinking. He gestured for the first recruit to step forward. ¡°One by one, place your hand on the pillar and let it judge you. Fear not the outcome, for it is but the first step on your journey.¡±


    A tall boy with dark hair stepped forward, his face set with a mixture of fear and determination. He hesitated for a moment before pressing his hand against the cold stone. The symbols on the pillar flared to life, glowing bright blue. The boy gasped as if feeling something reach deep inside him, but he stood firm. The air around the pillar seemed to vibrate, filled with a low, resonating hum.


    But after a few tense moments, the glow dimmed, and every symbol turned dark, losing its luster. The pillar remained silent, indifferent. No reaction from the stone. The crowd of recruits exhaled collectively, the tension palpable.


    The bald man shook his head, his lips curling into a slight frown. ¡°No affinity. Step aside, boy.¡± He pointed towards the left side of the platform, his voice devoid of sympathy.


    ¡°That is not possible! My grandfather was Gifted; please let me test again!¡± The boy¡¯s voice trembled with desperation, his eyes wild and pleading. He looked ready to throw a tantrum, his hands clenched into tight fists.


    The bald man¡¯s expression did not change, but there was a shift in the air around him¡ªa subtle, almost imperceptible change that sent a shiver down Abel¡¯s spine. His eyes turned sharp, and suddenly, the tattoos on his head began to glow a light green color. The ink began to detach from the bald man¡¯s dome, lifting from his skin and swaying upwards like kelp floating in deep water. The inky form twisted and contorted, shifting into the shape of a monstrous plant¡ªsomething akin to a grotesque, oversized Venus flytrap, with serrated edges that dripped with a thick, dark fluid.


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    The boy¡¯s knees buckled slowly as he looked at the terrifying creature now hovering above the bald man¡¯s head. With a gulp, he quickly turned around and did as he was told, his bravado collapsing into fear. The creature receded, merging back into the tattoo on the man¡¯s scalp as if it had never been there at all.


    One after the other, recruits went to take the assessment, but after six more attempts, not a single one was Gifted. The disappointment hung thick in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone. Abel could feel the nervousness radiating off the recruits as they watched their peers fail.


    Finally, a familiar figure stepped forward. Ronald, the short boy with sharp eyes and glasses, approached the pillar with visible apprehension. His face was pale, and he looked tense, knowing that being Gifted was far rarer than he had anticipated. As he placed his trembling hand on the cold stone, he shuddered slightly, a mix of nerves and the chill of the pillar. Just like the others, the symbols on the pillar lit up initially before they began to dim. For a moment, it seemed like there would be no reaction, but then a faint blue symbol glowed softly among the others that turned back to normal.


    ¡°Water affinity,¡± the bald man noted, his tone almost indifferent. ¡°Not bad. Stand over there.¡± He pointed toward the right side, opposite the non-Gifted.


    Relief flooded Ronald''s face as he exhaled a breath he hadn''t realized he was holding. ¡°I can''t believe it... I¡¯m Gifted. I¡¯ll be able to achieve my dreams,¡± he thought, his eyes lighting up with a new sense of purpose.


    Abel watched as more recruits went up to the pillar. Out of the next ten, only three had affinities: one with Earth, another with Wind, and the third with Water. The rest were non-Gifted, and some of them took the news hard. One girl collapsed in tears, her face contorted with despair. Others screamed in anger or terror, their dreams shattered before they could even begin.


    Sena stepped up next, his broad frame and calm demeanor setting him apart from the others. Abel knew him from the ship and expected him to handle whatever came his way with grace. Sena placed his hand on the pillar, and after a moment, the light faded, leaving the symbols dark. He was non-gifted. But unlike the others, Sena¡¯s face remained steady, his expression filled with determination. He walked to the left side confidently, his back straight, as if he were defying fate itself to break him.


    The assessments continued, and Abel¡¯s anxiety grew with each passing moment. His friends from Room Eighty, Nando and Isabella, also stepped up to the pillar. Neither of them possessed a Gift. Nando¡¯s face was drained of color, his eyes wide with disbelief. Isabella, on the other hand, remained eerily calm, a contemplative look on her face as she stepped aside.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as his turn drew near. He focused on the boy in front of him, Edmund¡ªthe arrogant youth who had clashed with Isabella. Edmund sauntered up to the pillar, a smug grin plastered on his face. Abel couldn¡¯t help but wish the boy would be revealed as non-gifted, to see his pride brought down a notch. But fate seemed to favor him. As Edmund placed his hand on the pillar, the symbols ignited in a fiery red glow.


    ¡°Fire affinity,¡± said the bald man, his voice as cold as ever. ¡°Good. Next.¡±


    Abel''s turn had come. His chest felt tight, his breathing shallow. He stepped forward, his feet feeling heavy as if the very air around him thickened with each step. The pillar towered over him, its carvings seemingly alive, pulsating with an ancient, unknowable power. He placed his trembling hand against the cold stone, the chill biting into his skin like frost. He closed his eyes and focused, blocking out the murmurs of the crowd, the weight of their expectations, and his spiraling doubts.


    For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to fall away, and all that existed was him, the stone, and whatever force lay within it.

 Chapter 10: The Journey Begins

    Chapter 10: The Journey Begins


    Abel touched the pillar with trembling fingers, feeling the cold, unyielding stone beneath his skin. Time seemed to stretch and warp, each second dragging out like an eternity. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm loud in his ears, and his breath was shallow as if he were standing on the precipice of something monumental. The recruits around him leaned in, their anticipation evident. Eyes widened, breaths were held¡ªeveryone waiting to see if the pillar would respond, to see if Abel would be judged as Gifted. Abel¡¯s mind was filled with an anxious hope, a desperate belief that he might be special, that there was some spark inside him that would awaken to the magic coursing through this ancient place.


    But the pillar remained cold and silent. The carvings etched into its surface, those intricate, swirling symbols that had flared with vibrant colors for the others, did not react to his touch. Seconds passed, feeling like hours, and the silence became suffocating. No light, no hum, not even the faintest flicker of recognition.


    The bald, tattooed man¡ª a faculty member of the Stone Tower¡ªwatched with impassive eyes. His face remained emotionless, a granite mask that showed neither sympathy nor disappointment. When it became clear that nothing would happen, he spoke, his voice flat and final.


    "No affinity. Step aside," he commanded, pointing to where the other non-Gifted recruits had gathered.


    The weight of those words settled over Abel like a shroud. No affinity. Nothing special. The recruits murmured amongst themselves, their gazes a mix of pity and indifference. Abel''s face flushed with a mixture of shame and frustration as he slowly withdrew his hand from the pillar. His legs felt heavy like they were wading through water, as he made his way over to where the others stood.


    His mind raced with thoughts, desperately trying to rationalize what had happened. Was the pillar wrong? Did I not focus enough? But deep down, a gnawing voice whispered the truth he didn¡¯t want to face. You aren¡¯t special. You were never meant to be here. This was all just a fluke, a cruel twist of fate. His hopes, so precariously balanced, came crashing down, and he felt the sting of bitter disappointment.


    As the last few recruits completed their assessments, the tattooed man reached into his robe and withdrew a small, opaque bottle filled with a thick, black liquid. With a flick of his wrist, he uncorked it and let the ink flow onto the grass at his feet. The liquid poured out like spilled tar, pooling in a dark, viscous puddle that bubbled and churned unnaturally. Then, as if commanded by an unseen force, it began to rise, forming a small, undulating mass that seemed to have a life of its own. It shifted and squirmed, taking on a semi-solid form, a strange creature made entirely of liquid¡ªa small, slime-like entity.


    ¡°This is an Inkling,¡± The faculty member announced, his voice breaking through the murmurs of the recruits. ¡°It will guide the Gifted to the third floor. Follow it and do not stray from its path.¡±


    The Inkling pulsed and quivered, emitting a faint, inky mist from its body as it floated a few inches above the ground. The Gifted recruits, their expressions a mix of pride and apprehension, began to follow the creature as it slithered forward, leaving a dark, oily trail in its wake. Abel watched them depart, his chest tightening with a mixture of envy and longing. Ronald, among them, glanced back once, a fleeting look of pity crossing his face before he turned away.


    With the Gifted now separated, the tattooed man turned his attention to the remaining recruits¡ªthe non-Gifted, like Abel. ¡°Listen carefully,¡± he began, his tone sharp and authoritative. ¡°I am Glandel, your faculty guide. You have been deemed non-gifted by the pillar, which means your potential is limited. But do not think that your journey here is over based on that as the world is mysterious and fate can be changed... The Stone Tower also has its rules. The first floor is a common ground. The second floor is restricted to non-Gifted recruits only. You will not be allowed beyond it. As for the Gifted, they will be confined to the third floor and below. Keep this hierarchy in mind.¡±


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    He continued to walk, leading them toward a large gate set into the stone wall of the tower. The door itself was massive, forged from dark iron, and adorned with more of the cryptic symbols they had seen on the pillar. It seemed to emanate a faint, otherworldly glow as if whispering promises and secrets hidden within.


    ¡°Beyond this gate is the first floor,¡± Glandel explained, pausing before the entrance. ¡°It serves as a common area for recruits, where you will find a cafeteria, library, a task office, and various other facilities. Each area has its faculty overseer¡ªolder generations of recruits who did not become Apostles but gained some understanding of magic. They chose to remain and serve the Tower, a choice that comes with its own set of benefits and... responsibilities.¡±


    One of the non-Gifted recruits, a girl with nervous eyes, raised her hand. ¡°What... what dangers are there, outside of the Tower?¡±


    Glandel¡¯s gaze shifted to her, his expression turning grim. ¡°Outside these walls lie the unknown¡ªcreatures, phenomena, and things far more dangerous than your worst nightmares. Recruits are forbidden to venture far from the Tower without permission or a designated task. Consider this a warning: the Tower¡¯s protection does not extend to the foolhardy.¡±


    A tense silence followed his words, and the recruits seemed to shrink under the weight of his gaze. Abel felt the foreboding grow stronger, the air around them thickening with a sense of impending doom.


    Reaching into his robe, Glandel pulled out a bronze badge engraved with a peculiar symbol. He pressed it against the iron gate, and it responded with a deep, resonant groan. Slowly, the massive doors began to open, the sound echoing through the stone courtyard like the growl of some ancient beast. A cold draft spilled out from within, carrying with it the scent of dust, old parchment, and a faint, metallic tang.


    As the gate parted fully, the recruits were greeted by a vast hall that stretched out before them. The interior of the Stone Tower was unlike anything Abel had imagined. Arcane light fixtures hung from the high ceiling, their glow dim and ethereal, casting elongated shadows that danced on the stone walls. Strange runes flickered intermittently on the floor, shifting and rearranging themselves in a language unknown to any of them. The hall was lined with various doors, each one different in size and shape, and marked with symbols that seemed to whisper hidden meanings.


    ¡°This is the first floor,¡± Glandel announced, stepping inside. ¡°Right now, it appears deserted, but this place is far from empty. The Tower is a living entity, constantly in motion, constantly watching. Do not be deceived by its silence.¡±


    The recruits followed him, their footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. Abel¡¯s eyes darted around, taking in every detail¡ªthe flickering runes, the distant whispers of unseen things, the faint hum that filled the air.


    Glandel led them deeper into the hall, pointing out various rooms as they passed. ¡°That door leads to the cafeteria,¡± he said, nodding to a large archway carved with symbols that resembled intertwining vines. ¡°There, to the left, is the library¡ªthough I must warn you, not all books are for the unprepared. And straight ahead, the task office, where you will receive your future tasks.¡±


    Abel listened keenly, absorbing every word. The mysterious atmosphere of the Tower filled him with a mix of dread and curiosity.


    Eventually, they reached another door, larger and more imposing than the others. Its surface was smooth and dark, almost like polished obsidian, and it bore a single, massive sigil that seemed to pulse with a faint, internal light. Glandel stopped in front of it, turning to face the recruits.


    ¡°Beyond this door,¡± he said, his voice dropping to a hushed tone, ¡°are your initial items¡ªa base amount of contribution points, which you will use for trade and learning, and a starting knowledge book. This book contains the foundational studies that may help you find your path in the Tower.¡±


    Abel¡¯s heart quickened. The promise of knowledge¡ªreal, tangible knowledge¡ªwas a beacon of hope amid his growing uncertainty. He felt a spark of excitement flicker in his chest, a yearning to delve into the mysteries of this strange, arcane place.


    Glandel reached out, pressing the badge against the door. The sigil began to glow brighter, casting long, twisting shadows that stretched across the stone floor. The door creaked, the sound low and resonant, and it began to open ever so slowly as if resisting the intrusion.


    ¡°Prepare yourselves,¡± Glandel whispered, his eyes narrowing as the door revealed the chamber beyond. ¡°The path you choose from here on will shape your future. Tread carefully.¡±


    Abel took a deep breath, feeling the cold air spill out from the chamber like a breath from a forgotten world. Whatever lay beyond this door would be the beginning of his journey¡ªa journey into a world filled with darkness, magic, and unknown dangers. As he stepped forward, he could only hope that he was ready.

 Chapter 11: Tomes of Forgotten Giants

    Chapter 11: Tomes of Forgotten Giants


    The door creaked open with the slow, laborious movement of something ancient and immense as if it had not been disturbed in centuries. A gust of warm, dry air flowed from within, carrying with it the scent of aged parchment, dust, and something else¡ªsomething more elusive, like a scent of magic long dormant. The recruits, led by Glandel, stepped cautiously over the threshold, their eyes adjusting to the dim, amber glow emanating from deep within.


    As Abel entered, he was struck by the sheer scale of the chamber before him. It was a library, but unlike any he had ever imagined. This was not a simple collection of books; this was a library for giants. The ceiling soared into shadowed heights, far beyond where any torchlight could reach. Enormous shelves, carved from dark stone and wood, towered over them, their tops disappearing into the darkness above. The shelves were packed with immense tomes, their spines thicker than a man¡¯s chest, with symbols etched into their leather bindings that glowed faintly in the half-light. Massive tables and chairs, built on a scale meant for creatures far larger than humans, filled the center of the room, and even the smallest of them could easily crush any recruits.


    Abel felt like an insect in a world built for gods. His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to take in the impossible sight. He glanced around at his fellow recruits, each one similarly awestruck. The room seemed to stretch on forever, each corner filled with an impossible expanse of ancient wood and stone as if the library itself were alive, an endless labyrinth of knowledge and secrets.


    Glandel¡¯s voice broke through the hushed awe. "Welcome," he said, his voice echoing off the towering shelves, "to the Grand Arcane Library, a magical repository owned by the Tower Master himself. This is no ordinary library. Legend has it that it was stolen from the land of giants and brought to this Tower. It¡¯s said that the stones themselves remember the footsteps of those ancient beings and that the air still carries the weight of their knowledge."


    The recruits exchanged glances, their imaginations spinning. Abel could almost see it¡ªthe titanic beings striding between the shelves, their hands reaching for books that could crush a human under their weight, their deep, rumbling voices resonating like distant thunder. He shivered at the thought.


    Glandel continued, ¡°But I digress. We are not here for stories. You are here to choose your knowledge book¡ªan initial guide to your studies within the Tower.¡±


    He led them deeper into the library, toward a particular section of the towering shelves. As they walked, Abel could hear the faint hum of arcane energy vibrating through the floor, resonating in his bones. The shelves in this part of the library were different; their surfaces were etched with intricate runes and glyphs, all faintly pulsing with a rhythmic glow, as if alive.


    ¡°Stand back,¡± Glandel instructed. The recruits shuffled backward, giving him space. Glandel approached one of the stone shelves that held the largest of the tomes. The air around him seemed to thicken with anticipation as he lifted his hands and began to chant in a low, guttural voice¡ªa language that sounded ancient and otherworldly, each word vibrating with power.


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    The runes on the shelves flared brighter, and the books began to tremble, dust shaking loose from their ancient covers. One of the massive tomes dislodged itself from the stone, floating upward with a groan, like bending metal. It hovered in the air, pages flipping wildly of their own accord, filling the chamber with a low, rumbling sound that made Abel¡¯s heart race. The recruits watched with a mixture of fear and fascination as Glandel continued his chant, his voice rising and falling in a strange, rhythmic cadence.


    ¡°Focus,¡± Glandel commanded, his voice echoing with an unnatural resonance. ¡°Look into the knowledge patterns you see before you. Focus your thoughts on one that calls to you, and it will manifest in your hands as your own book of study.¡±


    The great tome overhead continued to shake and shudder, its pages turning faster and faster as if caught in a tempest of its own making. Abel squinted, trying to make sense of the symbols that began to emerge from the pages. They weren¡¯t mere letters or words; they were complex, living glyphs¡ªshapes that seemed to twist and curl, morphing from one form to another as they floated down like shimmering wisps of smoke. Some looked like runes of flame that flickered and crackled, while others appeared like coiled serpents, slithering through the air, leaving trails of glowing embers.


    Glandel spoke once more, explaining the significance of these books. ¡°These knowledge books are the collected research and studies of past generations of the Tower. Some are flawed, incomplete, or even dangerous, but each contains something that can help you find a path and build a foundation in this place. For the non-Gifted, these books may hold the key to stimulating a breakthrough¡ªa chance to touch upon the magic that you lack naturally. Choose carefully.¡±


    The recruits¡¯ eyes were fixed on the pages, their expressions a mixture of concentration and desperation. Abel felt a nervous energy buzzing in his chest. He could see the symbols hovering before him, shifting and changing, each one a potential pathway, each one a mystery waiting to be unraveled. His eyes locked onto a symbol resembling the letter ¡°S,¡± its form twisting like a serpent in a constant state of transformation. It seemed to pulse with a deep, emerald glow, calling to him with an inexplicable allure.


    Just as he felt himself being drawn in, the symbol flickered and vanished, as if snatched away by unseen hands. Abel blinked in surprise, his focus broken. He glanced around and saw a boy with a mohawk clutching a strange, leather-bound book that had materialized in front of him, his face alight with triumph. Abel gritted his teeth, realizing he needed to act quickly or he might lose his chance.


    He steadied his breath, closing his eyes for a moment to drown out the distractions around him. When he opened them again, he scanned the air for another symbol. His gaze fell upon a rune that looked like a jagged, branching tree with twisted roots reaching out in every direction. It flickered with a dim, ghostly light, almost fading from view. Abel''s heart pounded as he focused on it, willing it to stay. He poured all his concentration into that symbol, his mind sharpening to a single point of clarity.


    And then it disappeared.


    A sudden pull in his chest, like the lurch of a ship caught in a storm, made him gasp. A strange fluctuation rippled before him, and he instinctively reached out. The air grew thick, almost liquid, and from that intangible space, a dark green book materialized in his hand. It felt warm, almost alive, its cover inscribed with unfamiliar markings that seemed to shift and change beneath his fingertips.


    Abel¡¯s breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the book. It was heavier than it looked, and he could feel a subtle, rhythmic pulse coming from within as if it were breathing. He felt a mix of excitement and apprehension, knowing that whatever lay within these pages could alter his fate in the Tower.

 Chapter 12: The Burden of Secrets

    Chapter 12: The Burden of Secrets


    Abel sat in his new room on the second floor of the Stone Tower, a quiet solitude settling over him. The space was modest yet more spacious than the cramped quarters he had occupied on the Mossy Floater. The air was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the chilling fog outside that seemed to hang around the tower grounds. A dim, soft light came from a single, never-fading candle set in a brass sconce on the wall. Its flickering flame cast long shadows that danced and trembled across the stone walls, giving the room an eerie, almost spectral ambiance.


    The room was simply furnished¡ªa sturdy wooden bed with a faded quilt, a narrow desk with a creaky chair, a small bathroom with a tin basin and pitcher, and a compact closet for storing any items or personal research materials. There was a pervasive silence, broken only by the occasional distant groan of the tower settling or the whisper of wind sneaking in through the cracks. Abel sat at the desk, his new knowledge book laid before him. The book''s cover was a dark green, textured like the hide of some creature that had been shaped and polished into leather. The edges of the cover were rough and uneven as if resisting domestication, and Abel could feel a faint warmth emanating from it, a gentle pulse that felt almost like a heartbeat.


    His mind wandered back to the events of earlier that day. After receiving his knowledge book, he and the other recruits were led by Glandel to another chamber where they were issued additional items. Abel now wore a dark gray robe woven with a magical attribute that kept both him and the fabric perpetually clean¡ªa practical enchantment that left him feeling strangely disconnected from the grime and grit of everyday life. However, he had been sternly reminded that they were not allowed to wear their hoods within the tower, a rule likely meant to foster transparency and prevent concealment among the recruits.


    Alongside the robe, Abel had also been given a simple iron bracelet etched with runes. Glandel had explained that the bracelet was linked to the room assigned to each recruit as it allowed them to enter them and had further applications that they would discover through their studies and weekly classes. The first of these classes was to begin tomorrow, led by various faculty members who would rotate their teachings each week, imparting wisdom or tasks to the recruits. Abel remembered Glandel¡¯s voice, low and serious, as he outlined the rules: no disrespect to the faculty, no fighting within the tower, and strict adherence to the tower¡¯s protocols. All recruits would have to earn contribution points through tasks and challenges, which would be essential for advancing within the tower and gaining access to restricted areas like the Grand Arcane Library.


    Abel¡¯s gaze fell back onto the knowledge book, its cover reflecting the dim candlelight in a way that seemed almost alive. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the book seemed to have been crafted from the remains of some magical creature. Its greenish skin looked tougher, more resilient than any leather he had seen before, and the pages within were of a strange, exquisite type¡ªthin but not fragile, a texture somewhere between parchment and silk.


    The book detailed a complex and arcane procedure. It spoke of a pen or feather forged from magical creatures, requiring the blood of another magical creature and other rare materials. These elements were needed to stimulate the magical essence of that blood and imprint its latent talents within the person undergoing the ritual. Abel read and re-read the instructions, his mind struggling to grasp the implications of what was written. It wasn¡¯t just about acquiring a few items; the process required precision, understanding, and, most of all, a willingness to delve into the unknown.


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    His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Abel closed the book carefully, his fingers lingering on the cover for a moment, feeling the strange texture beneath his skin. He stood and moved to the door, opening it to find Sena standing there.


    "Mind if I come in?" Sena asked his expression a mixture of curiosity and camaraderie.


    "Sure, come in," Abel replied, stepping aside to let his acquaintance enter. Sena''s large frame seemed to fill the room as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaving the desk chair for Abel. They settled in, the soft light from the ever-burning candle casting long shadows on their faces, accentuating their tired eyes and the furrowed lines of their brows.


    For a moment, neither of them spoke, each lost in his thoughts. Finally, Sena broke the silence. "I suppose we were both hoping for a different result at the pillar," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of disappointment and resolve. "But... it is what it is. We¡¯re not Gifted, but that doesn¡¯t mean we stop here."


    Abel nodded, his fingers drumming lightly on the surface of his book. "I won¡¯t lie¡ªI thought there¡¯d be more to it. Maybe I was expecting something... special. But now, I guess it''s up to us to carve our paths."


    Sena smiled faintly. "Exactly. We¡¯ll have to rely on our wits and whatever we can learn. That library today... it was incredible. Can you imagine having access to those books again?"


    Abel nodded, recalling the towering shelves that stretched up into the darkness, filled with tomes of ancient knowledge. "Glandel mentioned we could go back if we earned enough contribution points. It¡¯s going to be hard, but it¡¯s our best shot."


    Sena looked around Abel¡¯s room, his eyes falling on the strange green book on the desk. "What¡¯s with your knowledge book?" he asked, though there was a sense of hesitation in his voice. Discussing the specifics of their studies was a sensitive subject; knowledge was a currency in the tower, and sharing too much could mean losing an edge.


    Abel glanced at the book, then back at Sena. "It¡¯s... complex," he said slowly. "It involves a procedure with magical creature blood and some kind of ritual. Honestly, it¡¯s overwhelming. I¡¯m not even sure where to start."


    Sena nodded thoughtfully. "Mine¡¯s not much simpler. But I guess that¡¯s the point¡ªif it were easy, everyone would be doing it." He leaned back slightly, his face more serious now. "We¡¯re going to need to be careful. The previous recruits¡ªthe ones who¡¯ve been here longer¡ªare going to be returning soon. Some of them might not be too happy about us being here."


    Abel raised an eyebrow. "Why¡¯s that?"


    "Because," Sena replied, "competition for resources is fierce. And those who¡¯ve been here longer have a head start. We¡¯re the new blood, and some of them see us as threats, especially when it comes to earning points or accessing more advanced knowledge."


    Abel considered this, his gaze shifting back to the knowledge book. The path ahead was beginning to look even more daunting. "I¡¯ll keep that in mind," he said, his voice steady. "Thanks for the warning."


    Sena got up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Just look out for yourself. And if you ever need someone to watch your back, you know where to find me."


    Sena¡¯s room was not too far away from Abels.


    Abel smiled back. "Same goes for you."


    With a nod, Sena made his way to the door. "Get some rest. Tomorrow¡¯s going to be interesting."


    As the door closed behind Sena, Abel remained seated at the desk, his thoughts racing. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the walls, and he couldn¡¯t help but feel that they were moving, whispering secrets that he had yet to uncover. He opened the book again, tracing his fingers over the arcane symbols etched into the cover. He had a lot to learn and little time to waste.

 Chapter 13: Gifted

    Chapter 13: Gifted


    Ronald stood in his spacious room on the third floor of the Stone Tower, soaking in the tranquil ambiance of his surroundings. The soft hum of magic lingered in the air, blending with the scent of lavender incense that curled lazily from a brass burner in the corner. His bed, wide and plush with thick linens, promised restful nights, and the intricately woven rugs beneath his feet muffled every step, providing a sense of comfort and luxury. This room was a stark contrast to the utilitarian chambers of the lower floors, and it reminded him that being Gifted came with certain privileges.


    After adjusting the smooth, perfectly tailored dark gray robe, Ronald glanced at himself in the large, polished mirror as his glasses gleamed. The shimmer in the threading of his robe, subtle yet undeniable, marked him as a Gifted recruit¡ªone of the elite. It was a small detail, but one that made all the difference. He ran a hand through his dark hair, feeling a surge of pride swell within him.


    With a deep breath, he stepped out of his room and into the wide, immaculately kept hallway. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting ancient magical battles and landscapes, each woven with metallic threads that caught the light in a way that made them seem alive. As he walked down the corridor, he passed a few fellow Gifted recruits, each wearing the same dark gray robes with the shimmering thread, and each carrying themselves with the same air of confidence that Ronald felt within himself.


    "Morning, Ronald," one recruit greeted him with a smile, their tone casual but respectful.


    "Morning," Ronald replied, nodding as he continued his walk.


    As he approached the grand staircase, he felt an undeniable sense of superiority over the recruits below. The lower floors, where the non-Gifted lived, had a more cramped, utilitarian feel. But here, on the third floor, everything was different¡ªspacious, elegant, and undeniably prestigious. Even the lighting felt warmer, and more welcoming. The faint hum of magic seemed to pulse through the very stones of the tower, a constant reminder of the ancient power contained within these walls.


    Ronald passed through the common area on the third floor, where groups of Gifted recruits were lounging, chatting, and laughing. Some were discussing their magical studies, while others were simply enjoying the leisurely morning before their first lessons. There was a palpable sense of confidence among them¡ªa sense that they belonged here, at the top. Ronald exchanged a few nods and smiles as he passed, enjoying the camaraderie of his peers.


    His descent to the first floor, where the majority of the morning activity took place, was swift. The wide hall was already bustling with recruits preparing for the day''s lessons. As Ronald made his way through the crowd, he noticed the envious glances from the non-gifted recruits¡ªthose who wore the same dark gray robes but lacked the shimmer of magic in the threads. It wasn¡¯t overt, but the distinction between the Gifted and the non-Gifted was clear. The latter moved through the hall with a sense of urgency, always striving to prove themselves, while the former¡ªthose like Ronald¡ªmoved with ease, assured of their place.


    "Ronald!" a voice called from behind, and he turned to see another Gifted recruit waving at him from across the hall. The recruit smiled, his expression smug but friendly. Ronald returned the wave, feeling a surge of satisfaction at being acknowledged by his peers.


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    As he made his way toward his classroom, Ronald couldn''t help but notice how the non-gifted recruits seemed to part as he walked by, their conversations quieting as he passed. He didn¡¯t need to say anything¡ªthe shimmer in his robes spoke for him. He was Gifted, and that alone set him apart.


    As he walked, a snippet of conversation reached his ears. "Did you hear? A faculty member mentioned that Three Eyes and Salamander are returning today," one recruit said in a low, nervous tone.


    Ronald stopped in his tracks to listen. While not full-fledged Apostles, these two were far from ordinary. They were recruits from the previous batch, having already found their paths and begun walking them. Ronald turned slightly, pretending to adjust his robes as he eavesdropped more intently.


    The murmurs grew louder as two robed figures entered through the wide entrance of the first floor. The first figure immediately drew attention¡ªa tall, thin young man with three eyes. The third eye was set in the middle of his forehead, just below his short, unruly brown hair, and it darted around independently of the other two, its gaze cold and predatory. A murderous aura emanated from him, thick and suffocating, as if his very presence threatened violence.


    Beside him walked another recruit, his face partially covered in glossy red scales that glinted menacingly in the low light. The scales wrapped around his cheeks and chin, giving him a reptilian, otherworldly appearance, while his eyes¡ªsharp and unnerving¡ªscanned the crowd with a predator¡¯s focus. His every step was deliberate, almost too smooth, like a creature gliding through water. His lips curled into a permanent, slight sneer, as if the very sight of those around him was beneath his notice.


    The two walked side by side, their footsteps echoing sharply against the stone floor, cutting through the murmur of conversations that filled the hall. As they advanced, the crowd reacted immediately¡ªrecruits stepping back instinctively, their faces a mix of awe and trepidation. The whispers grew louder, laced with fear and curiosity, while others simply stood frozen, avoiding the intense gaze of the two recruits. The air itself seemed to change with their presence, a suffocating heaviness that pressed down on the others like an invisible force.


    "They¡¯re back," one recruit whispered, his voice tinged with reverence.


    "Did you see him? Three Eyes is even more terrifying up close¡­"


    "Look at Salamander¡¯s scales¡­ I heard he took down a creature by himself when he first joined."


    The murmurs continued, though no one dared to speak too loudly. There was a collective sense of reverence in the way the other recruits parted, allowing the duo to pass without hesitation or challenge. They moved with the kind of confidence that came only from knowing you were above the rest¡ªrecruits who had already survived the trials, who had come out stronger, and who were undoubtedly destined for greater things. Even though they weren¡¯t yet Apostles, their power was obvious, their mere presence casting a long shadow over the room.


    Ronald stood still as they passed, feeling the weight of their aura pressing down on him like a physical force. His breath quickened, his chest tightening as he adjusted his glasses. The pressure was different from anything he had felt before¡ªless than the overwhelming might of the Apostles, but still enough to make his knees tremble slightly. He realized in that moment that these two recruits had already carved out their place within the tower¡¯s complex hierarchy. Their ascent had already begun.


    As the duo ascended the grand staircase, their forms became smaller, but the heavy atmosphere they left behind lingered long after they disappeared from sight.


    ¡°They¡¯re on a whole different level,¡± Ronald muttered to himself. He could still feel the lingering tension in the air as if the very stones of the tower had absorbed the presence of Three Eyes and Salamander.


    Around him, other recruits continued to stare in awe, some whispering hurriedly to one another about the return of the two. Ronald could see the envy and admiration etched on their faces, and it made him all the more determined not to fall behind. Though he was Gifted, he knew the Stone Tower was ruthless¡ªonly the strongest, the smartest, and the most cunning would rise.


    With renewed determination, Ronald turned away from the spectacle and headed toward his classroom. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear¡ªhere in the Stone Tower, even the Gifted had to fight for their place. He wouldn¡¯t allow himself to be overshadowed. Not by Three Eyes, not by Salamander, and not by anyone. Every lesson had to count.

 Chapter 14: Mana

    Chapter 14: Mana


    Ronald was outside the classroom door on the first floor of the Stone Tower, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The air in the hallway was still, save for the occasional distant murmur of recruits talking in other parts of the Tower. Here, the Gifted recruits were segregated from the non-gifted, a clear distinction that hung in the atmosphere like an invisible barrier. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, eager to see what the day¡¯s lesson held.


    The room was spacious, though not lavish, but there was an air of importance about it. The stone walls were etched with faint runes, their intricate patterns giving off a soft glow that pulsed gently, as though breathing in sync with the mana that filled the Tower. Large wooden desks were arranged in neat rows, all facing a raised platform at the front where a tall figure stood waiting.


    The tutor, a man with long silver hair tied back neatly, wore a deep crimson robe that shimmered faintly in the dim light. His presence commanded respect¡ªthere was something in the way he stood, his posture tall and his eyes sharp, that told Ronald this man was not to be trifled with. He exuded the calm of someone who had mastered what he was about to teach and the unspoken authority that came with deep understanding.


    Ronald glanced around at his fellow recruits as he settled into his seat near the middle of the room. Edmund sat a few rows ahead of him, his posture confident, arms folded, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Other gifted recruits chatted quietly, their excitement palpable as they exchanged whispered theories about today¡¯s lesson. Ronald adjusted his glasses and focused on the tutor, determined to absorb everything.


    The room fell silent as the tutor¡¯s voice rang out, clear and authoritative. ¡°You are here today because you possess a gift¡ªa connection to mana that sets you apart from others. But let me be clear: this gift is only the beginning. Mana does not bow easily, not even to the Gifted. Your journey will be long, and your mastery over mana hard-earned.¡±


    He paused, letting his words sink in. Ronald could feel the weight of the statement in the air, a sobering reminder that simply being Gifted was not enough.


    ¡°Our first lesson,¡± the tutor continued, ¡°is about understanding mana, feeling it. Mana exists all around us, in every breath of air, every blade of grass, every stone in this Tower. But sensing it¡ªtruly feeling it¡ªis a skill that must be developed. It will not happen today. Likely, not tomorrow either. For some of you, it could take weeks.¡±


    Ronald frowned slightly. He had expected that being Gifted, he would be able to sense mana right away. But now, hearing the tutor speak, it became clear that this wasn¡¯t something that could be achieved in a single lesson.


    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± the tutor instructed, his voice calm yet firm. ¡°Clear your minds of distractions. Breathe deeply, and focus. Don¡¯t look for mana¡ªlet it come to you. It is not a force to be grasped, but a presence to be felt.¡±


    The room grew still as the recruits obeyed, closing their eyes and settling into quiet concentration. Ronald took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. At first, all he could sense was the silence, broken only by the occasional soft shuffling from another recruit. He tried to focus, to push all other thoughts aside. He wanted to feel the mana¡ªneeded to¡ªbut all he could detect was the faint echo of his own heartbeat and the soft thrum of energy in the Tower walls. It wasn¡¯t enough.


    Minutes passed, and the more Ronald tried to concentrate, the more frustrated he became. He had expected this to be easy¡ªto simply close his eyes and sense the power that supposedly ran through the very air. But there was nothing. No spark, no pulse. Just silence.


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    He opened his eyes slightly, glancing around the room. Most of the other recruits still had their eyes closed, expressions of deep focus on their faces. Even Edmund, who always carried an air of smugness, appeared to be struggling, his brow furrowed in concentration.


    ¡°It is not a sensation you can force,¡± the tutor said, his voice cutting through the silence. ¡°Mana must be coaxed, not commanded. You must become a part of its flow. For now, just breathe.¡±


    The lesson continued in this manner for some time¡ªlong stretches of silent meditation, punctuated only by the tutor¡¯s calm guidance. Ronald¡¯s frustration grew. He could feel something faint, a tingle just on the edge of his senses, but it was elusive, slipping away every time he reached for it.


    After what felt like an eternity, the tutor spoke again, breaking the silence. ¡°In time, you will learn to align yourself with mana¡¯s flow, to draw it into yourself. Eventually, you will build what is known as a mana pool¡ªa reservoir of energy within your body that can come in many different variations. This pool will be the foundation for all magical practice. But today, it is enough to try and feel the presence of mana. Do not be discouraged if you sense nothing yet.¡±


    As the lesson came to a pause, Edmund raised his hand, his voice cutting through the room¡¯s focused atmosphere. ¡°If we Gifted can create a mana pool, how is it that non-gifted recruits can as well? Shouldn¡¯t that be impossible for them?¡±


    The tutor regarded him with a patient expression. ¡°A mana pool can be created in many ways. For you, the Gifted, it is a natural process¡ªone that you will learn through meditation, alignment, and practice. For the non-gifted, it is much more difficult. They must rely on external methods¡ªrituals, inscriptions, magical items¡ªto manipulate mana. The process is slower, and often fraught with difficulty. But it is possible.¡±


    Another recruit, a girl with sharp eyes and a slight sneer raised her hand next. ¡°But if they aren¡¯t Gifted, why are they allowed in the Tower at all? They weren¡¯t born to control mana. It¡¯s against the natural order, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    A few other recruits nodded in agreement, and Ronald could feel the tension rising. The divide between Gifted and non-gifted was something that had been quietly acknowledged since their arrival at the Tower, but now, it was being openly challenged.


    The tutor¡¯s expression darkened slightly, but he remained calm. ¡°That mindset belongs to the old world,¡± he said firmly. ¡°Yes, the Gifted have an advantage. But through research, through trial and error, we have learned that power can be cultivated, even in those who were not born with it. The true enemies of humanity are not your fellow recruits. There are other races in this world¡ªbeings that would see us wiped out if given the chance. These races do not care whether you are Gifted or not. They see us all as the same.¡±


    The room fell into an uneasy silence. Some of the recruits shifted uncomfortably in their seats, while others, like Edmund, remained defiant, their expressions still smug and unconvinced.


    ¡°Leave your prejudice behind,¡± the tutor continued. ¡°You are here to learn, to grow stronger, to prepare for the real battles that await you beyond these walls. Focus on that.¡±


    With that, the lesson drew to a close. The recruits began to gather their things, some still deep in thought about what the tutor had said. Ronald, still feeling a sense of frustration from his struggle to sense the mana, remained seated for a moment longer, contemplating the path ahead.


    Just as he was about to leave, a group of Gifted recruits approached him, their faces friendly but their air of superiority unmistakable.


    ¡°Hey, Ronald,¡± one of them said with a grin. ¡°We¡¯re heading up to the third floor to hang out. One of the guys up there has a killer voice¡ªhe¡¯s Gifted and can sing like you wouldn¡¯t believe. Want to come with us?¡±


    Ronald hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He was eager to bond with his peers, to carve out his place among the Gifted. As they left the classroom together, heading toward the grand staircase that would take them to the third floor, Ronald couldn¡¯t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The life of a Gifted was everything he had hoped for¡ªand more.

 Chapter 15: The Classroom

    Chapter 15: The Classroom


    In the Non-gifted classroom Marcella, an older faculty member of the Stone Tower, stood at the front of a dimly lit classroom, her presence both calming and commanding. She was a tall woman with deep-set eyes that held a lifetime of secrets. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, blending seamlessly with her deep blue robe that brushed against the stone floor as she moved. The robe''s edges were embroidered with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse faintly with hidden energy, a subtle testament to her arcane proficiency.


    The classroom was filled with around a dozen recruits, each sitting on simple wooden chairs arranged in a semi-circle around Marcella. The stone walls were covered in faded glyphs, their meanings lost to time. A single window, narrow and tall, allowed a shaft of pale light to stream in, illuminating the dust particles that floated lazily in the air.


    Marcella¡¯s voice was soft yet resonant, cutting through the silence like a whisper that demanded attention. ¡°So, tell me, Erin,¡± she said, her gaze resting on a chubby boy sitting nervously on the side, ¡°why do you think magic was created by the Apostles?¡±


    Erin fidgeted, his round cheeks flushed as he stammered his answer, "Well, I¡ªI saw Apostle Flint create fire out of thin air. I thought only someone like an Apostle could do that... make something out of nothing."


    Marcella''s lips curved into a knowing smile. "A common misconception," she replied. "Apostles, like Flint, do not create magic from nothing. What you saw was the manipulation of mana, the fundamental essence that flows through everything. Magic is not something created; it is a reaction¡ªa product¡ªof mana interacting with the world."


    The room grew silent as the recruits absorbed her words, their faces a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Abel, who was seated near the back, raised his hand. His brow furrowed in thought, reflecting his burning desire to understand.


    "Yes, Abel?" Marcella gestured for him to speak.


    "Where is this mana, then? How do we find it?" Abel asked, his voice tinged with eagerness and a hint of frustration. The concept seemed just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue.


    Marcella nodded approvingly. "A fair question. Mana is everywhere, woven into the very fabric of our world. It exists all around us, but it is unseen to mundane eyes. It is the breath of the earth, the pulse of the sky, the whisper of the wind. The world itself generates mana, giving birth to phenomena, flora, and creatures beyond comprehension. Even the gifted are seen as a product of this world¡ª¡®gifted¡¯ by the world with an affinity, a connection to the elemental forces that drive all magic."


    As she spoke, a subtle tension filled the room. The recruits listened with rapt attention, their imaginations ignited by the idea of a hidden force that permeates everything. Marcella continued, her tone turning somber. ¡°But mana is not always a gentle force. It can be wild, unpredictable, and dangerous. There are many objects and places in this world cursed by its chaotic nature. Can anyone tell me the story from the book, Where the Map Ends?¡±


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    Isabella, sitting with her arms folded and a thoughtful look on her face, raised her hand. "It''s about an explorer who found a map in an ancient cottage," she began, her voice steady and clear. "He followed it to a desolate area, faced trials, and eventually gained some kind of artifact. But the artifact¡¯s original owner was unhappy about it, and the next day, the explorer''s entire village was destroyed."


    Marcella nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing with a glint of something almost akin to sorrow. "Yes, that is one version of the tale. But the truth is darker. The artifact was not just guarded; it was cursed. The village did not fall because of some wrathful spirit or vengeance¡ªit died overnight because the curse spread like a plague, a miasma of death. Many think curses are nothing more than fairy tales, but they are all too real. I¡¯ve seen many recruits return from tasks with curses etched into their bones, curses that took their lives inch by inch."


    A cold shiver ran down Abel¡¯s spine. He recalled how his dagger had affected him when he first used it¡ªthe rush of power followed by gnawing exhaustion that left him hollowed out like the cost of wielding it was far greater than he realized.


    Marcella continued, "Remember, looking, touching, or even trying to understand things or beings that should remain unknown will bring more harm than good. Malignant spirits, deadly curses, and corrupted artifacts are all very real dangers in this world. Everything has a cost. Nothing is free¡ªnot even the allure of magical artifacts. They may grant power, but at what price?"


    The room was thick with tension, the recruits visibly grappling with the weight of her words. Abel was no different. He hung onto every syllable, his mind racing with thoughts of his newfound reality. What other dangers lurked in this world? What prices were he and the others willing to pay?


    Marcella shifted the conversation to the geography surrounding the Rocky Forest and the Tower. She spoke of the boundaries they must respect and the dangers beyond them. "Always remain within the Tower¡¯s protection. Your bracelets will shimmer with a faint glow as long as you are within the safe perimeter. Should that glow fade, know that you have wandered too far."


    Abel looked down at his bracelet, noting the soft shimmer. He committed this detail to memory, understanding that in a place like this, knowledge was a shield as much as any blade.


    The lesson continued for another half hour, covering more on the magical properties of the Tower, the protective wards around it, and the importance of discretion in their studies. Finally, Marcella clapped her hands softly, signaling the end of the session.


    The recruits slowly began to rise, murmuring amongst themselves, exchanging thoughts and fears sparked by Marcella''s words. Abel made his way toward the door when he heard his name.


    "Abel!" Nando called out, waving him over. Beside him were Sena and Isabella, who offered him a nod.


    Abel walked over, feeling the weight of the lesson still heavy in his mind. Whatever they wanted to discuss, he was ready. After all, in a world where every step could lead to discovery or disaster, it was always better to be prepared.

 Chapter 16: Facilities

    Chapter 16: Facilities


    As the four recruits left the dimly lit classroom, they huddled together, whispering among themselves. Nando, who seemed more talkative than usual, broke the silence first. "Did you see them?" he asked in a hushed tone. "Three Eyes and Salamander walked in today."


    Abel and Isabella exchanged confused glances and shook their heads. Sena, however, nodded with a grim look on his face. "I saw them," he replied. "They looked intimidating."


    "Who are they?" Abel asked, sensing an undercurrent of anxiety in his friends'' voices. He felt like he had missed something crucial.


    Nando adjusted his posture, lowering his voice even further. "They¡¯re non-gifted recruits like us, but they''ve made enormous strides in their research. Word is they¡¯re on the brink of a breakthrough and might become Apostles soon."


    Abel felt a chill at those words. Non-gifted recruits becoming Apostles was rare; it required ingenuity, resilience, and a willingness to risk everything. Abel made a mental note to remember these two¡ª¡®Three Eyes¡¯ and ¡®Salamander.¡¯ He would need to know more.


    Sena chimed in, "But they''re not the only ones we need to watch out for. I heard two others are coming back soon¡ªa boy called ¡®Wolf¡¯ and a girl known as ¡®Gloomeyes.¡¯"


    "Gifted?" Isabella asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Sena nodded. "Gifted, but they¡¯re also dabbling in the knowledge books meant for the non-gifted. They¡¯re not content with the usual path. They want more power, and they¡¯re willing to take risks to get it."


    Nando added, "It¡¯s dangerous for them to do that. If they¡¯re already gifted, they¡¯re almost guaranteed to become Apostles if they stick to their path. For them to risk that... it shows they¡¯re on another level¡ªmentally and in terms of ambition."


    The conversation grew heavy with the weight of this new information. Abel felt each name etch itself into his mind¡ªpotential allies or future threats, either way, he needed to know them.


    They decided to regroup in Sena¡¯s room later to strategize further. "We still haven¡¯t been able to get in contact with Ronald," Nando said thoughtfully. "He¡¯s usually on the third floor. If anyone sees him in transition or wandering about, let him know we need to meet."


    The group agreed, and they decided to call themselves ¡°Room Eighty,¡± a symbol of their shared resolve to change their fates in the Stone Tower. They parted ways with a newfound sense of camaraderie.


    Abel decided to explore more of the Tower and made his way to the library. The path there was lined with faintly glowing glyphs carved into the stone walls, their light barely strong enough to guide his steps. The silence was oppressive, interrupted only by the occasional murmur of distant voices and the creak of ancient wood underfoot.


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    When he finally reached the library, he was surprised to find Marcella there, her blue robe trailing behind her as she arranged a stack of old scrolls. She looked up and met his eyes, her expression as unreadable as ever.


    "So, you¡¯ve found your way to the library," Marcella remarked, her voice like the rustling of leaves. "Here, knowledge is as precious as gold. Every visit will cost you a contribution point."


    Abel glanced around the room. The library was smaller than the grand one he had seen earlier, but it still possessed a certain gravity. Rows of ancient bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with tomes of various shapes and sizes. The air was thick with the smell of old parchment and the faint, acrid tang of alchemical experiments gone wrong.


    He nodded respectfully. "I have five points, but I think I¡¯ll save them for now. Maybe for something more essential later on."


    Marcella''s lips curled into a faint smile. "Wise choice. Many come here and spend all they have without understanding the true cost of knowledge. They often leave with more questions than answers."


    Abel thanked her and took his leave, noting the eerie stillness of the library as he walked away. Something was unsettling about this place¡ªa feeling that the books held more than just words.


    His next destination was the cafeteria. As he made his way there, he passed by groups of recruits conversing in hushed tones, some exchanging glances of envy or distrust. The cafeteria itself was a vast hall filled with long wooden tables and benches. It was dimly lit, with flickering lanterns hanging from the ceiling casting a sickly yellow glow across the room. Despite its size, the place was nearly empty, the silence broken only by the distant clatter of a spoon or the scraping of a chair.


    Abel noticed a row of small, open windows along one wall, behind which cooks moved about mechanically. Through these windows, recruits could receive their meals. Abel approached one of the windows and asked how much the food would cost.


    "One contribution point," the cook replied gruffly, not bothering to look up.


    "And if I don''t have any?" Abel inquired, his voice steady but with a hint of underlying concern.


    "Then you starve," the cook answered flatly, his eyes still focused on his work.


    Abel felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. The Stone Tower was indeed a cruel place, where even the basic necessities had a price. He asked another cook how one could earn contribution points and was directed to the task office.


    The task office was located at the far end of the first floor, past several groups of recruits who eyed him with suspicion or indifference. It was a wide room with high ceilings, filled with large wooden boards covered in parchments and notices. Each board seemed to hum with a low, resonant energy, a sign of the magic imbued within.


    Abel scanned the room and quickly noticed Glandel, the bald, tattooed faculty member who had overseen their initial assessment. He stood behind a large desk near the back of the room, his sharp eyes darting around as he kept a close watch on the recruits.


    Glandel¡¯s gaze landed on Abel, and he frowned slightly. "What are you doing here, boy?" he asked, his voice gruff and slightly impatient.


    Abel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Glandel¡¯s stare. "I wanted to understand how I could earn contribution points, sir."


    Glandel''s expression softened, but only slightly. "Contribution points are the currency of this place, the lifeblood that keeps you moving. Tasks posted on these boards will range from mundane errands to dangerous missions outside the tower¡¯s protection. Pick wisely, because the wrong choice could be your last."


    Abel nodded, absorbing the gravity of Glandel¡¯s words. This was only the beginning, and he had much to learn about surviving in this new, unforgiving world. He glanced at the task boards, his mind already racing with possibilities and potential dangers. Whatever came next, he knew he had to be ready.

 Chapter 17: Room Eighty

    Chapter 17:  Room Eighty


    Abel stood before the task boards in the dimly lit task office, his eyes scanning the sheets of parchment pinned up in chaotic clusters. Each parchment was marked with a task, written in a spidery script that seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive with some lingering magic. The tasks varied widely in nature¡ªfrom the mundane, like collecting herbs from the Stone Forest to the more daunting, such as hunting a specific beast that prowled the outskirts of the tower''s protected grounds.


    The tasks were organized into categories based on their difficulty, each one indicated by small, shimmering stars at the top of the parchment. Abel noticed that most of the tasks on the far left bore a single star, denoting the lowest level of difficulty. As his eyes moved to the right, the tasks with two or even three stars became visible, marked with a strange aura that seemed to whisper danger and death. Those were far more elaborate and promised greater rewards¡ªbut also carried grave warnings.


    Some tasks were posted by Apostles, their names scrawled at the bottom of the parchment-like dark signatures. Names like Apostle Windcaller caught his eye, but he also saw familiar ones such as Apostle Essence. To Abel¡¯s surprise, he noticed that even faculty members had posted tasks. Glandel, the taskmaster, had posted a task himself.


    "Stars denote the difficulty and privilege," Glandel''s gruff voice cut through the silence, startling Abel slightly. The bald man¡¯s presence seemed to command an unnatural stillness around him. "As a new recruit, you can only pick one-star tasks after you¡¯ve completed your first week in the Tower. Two-star tasks and above are for Apostles and higher. Don¡¯t get any ideas above your station."


    Abel nodded, taking in the information. He shifted his gaze back to the task board, noting the potential rewards for each task. All tasks guaranteed contribution points¡ªcurrency for survival within the Tower¡¯s walls. One-star tasks promised between three to ten points, but Abel saw that the higher-star tasks also had extra rewards beyond just points. Rare materials, access to forbidden sections of the library, or even magical trinkets.


    "Those aren¡¯t for you," Glandel remarked, following Abel¡¯s gaze. "The Tower is not kind to those who overreach."


    Abel tore his eyes away from the tantalizing promise of power on the right side of the board and focused back on the one-star tasks. "Understood," he replied. The temptation of more contribution points and other rewards was real, but the fear of overstepping his boundaries was stronger.


    He thanked Glandel, who only nodded in acknowledgment, his sharp eyes already moving to monitor the next recruit who approached the board. Abel turned and left the task office, his mind buzzing with the weight of his choices and what lay ahead.


    On his way to Sena¡¯s room, Abel felt the stone walls of the Tower hum faintly. Just as he was about to reach the stairs, the front door of the first floor shook violently, the wooden panels creaking as if something heavy had struck them from the other side. Every recruit in the hall froze, heads turning in unison toward the door.


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    The door swung open, and in stepped a figure wrapped in a dark gray robe like that of a recruit, but with intricate embroidery along the edges that marked her as gifted. She carried herself with fearsome confidence, her steps slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. Abel¡¯s heart quickened as he felt an almost tangible, beastly aura emanating from her¡ªa ferocity that made his instincts scream at him to look away. But his curiosity won over his fear, and he glanced at her through his peripheral vision.


    She was tall, her shoulders squared and muscular, with a tribal-like axe slung across her back that looked as if it could cleave stone. Her hair was a deep, almost garish blue, matching the piercing intensity of her eyes, which seemed to flicker like a predator''s in the dark. She surveyed the room with a cold, unyielding gaze, and wherever her eyes fell, the recruits instinctively parted, creating a path for her like the sea splitting around a rock.


    "That''s Gloomeyes," Abel realized, recalling what Nando had told him earlier. She was one of the gifted recruits who had dared to delve into the knowledge books of the non-gifted, seeking more power than her already-gifted status provided. There was something terrifyingly fierce about her, something wild and untamed.


    Abel waited a few moments, biding his time as she ascended the grand staircase with long strides. Once he was sure the tension had eased and those who wanted to use the stairs had begun to move again, he followed behind, keeping a careful distance.


    When Abel reached the second floor, he headed straight for Sena¡¯s room. He knocked twice, his knuckles tapping softly against the heavy wooden door. From the other side, he heard Sena¡¯s familiar voice, low and cautious. "Who is it?"


    ¡°It¡¯s Abel,¡± he replied.


    There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open. Inside, Sena nodded for him to enter. As he stepped into the small room, Abel saw that all the members of Room Eighty were already there¡ªexcept for Ronald. Nando, sitting cross-legged on the floor, glanced up from a parchment he was reading, and Isabella leaned against the far wall, her arms crossed.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Ronald?¡± Abel asked, noticing the empty space where Ronald would usually sit.


    Nando shook his head, a shadow passing over his face. ¡°He refused to return,¡± he said flatly.


    Abel¡¯s heart sank. He felt a wave of conflicting emotions¡ªdisappointment, frustration, but also a begrudging understanding. Ronald might have decided that his path lay with the gifted, those who were almost guaranteed to rise to the rank of Apostle. Perhaps he had chosen to distance himself from their group of non-gifted recruits, whose future was far less certain.


    ¡°I can¡¯t blame him,¡± Abel said quietly. ¡°He¡¯s probably trying to build connections with the real players in the Tower¡ªthe gifted.¡±


    Sena nodded. ¡°He¡¯s not wrong to do that. But we have our own path to walk, and we need to keep moving forward.¡±


    Isabella, who had been silent until now, pushed off from the wall and walked over. ¡°Exactly. We knew from the start this wouldn¡¯t be easy. If Ronald chooses his path, we¡¯ll choose ours.¡±


    Abel looked around the room, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The Tower was a dangerous, unforgiving place, but he wasn¡¯t alone. They would find their way¡ªone step at a time.


    The discussion turned back to their plans, their shared knowledge books, and the tasks they would need to undertake. As the room filled with low, murmured conversations and the flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced on the walls, Abel felt a strange mix of dread and excitement.

 Chapter 18: Twisting the Threads of Fate

    Chapter 18: Twisting the Threads of Fate


    The cafeteria of the Stone Tower had a different atmosphere at night. Shadows stretched long and thin across the stone floor, cast by the flickering torches along the walls. The usual buzz of voices had quieted, leaving a low, almost eerie hum in the air. The scent of roasted meat and freshly steamed vegetables lingered, mingling with the ever-present earthy smell of ancient stone.


    Isabella sat alone at a corner table, her posture relaxed, but her eyes sharp and calculating. Before her, a plate of steak and assorted vegetables lay mostly untouched. She murmured softly, her lips barely moving, as if she were speaking to herself. But Isabella knew better. Her quiet words were meant for another set of ears, hidden from view. To any passerby, she appeared to be muttering to herself¡ªa sign of madness, perhaps¡ªbut she was in conversation with her snake familiar, nestled deep within the folds of her robe.


    Her voice was low and frustrated. "I can''t keep spending my contribution points on food just because you¡¯re hungry. We need to save them for more important things," she hissed, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork and lifting it to her mouth.


    There was a pause as if listening to an inaudible response. Her expression softened, and she sighed. "Fine," she said begrudgingly. "If you¡¯re going to help me get contribution points, that¡¯s fine with me. But you¡¯d better pull your weight."


    Her mind drifted, and her tone shifted to one of frustration as she glanced at the small, dark book resting beside her plate. "This knowledge book¡­ the Thousand Head Ritual. It¡¯s so convoluted. How am I supposed to collect one hundred heads of magical beasts of the same species? It¡¯s impossible," she muttered under her breath.


    Again, there was a moment of silence. Isabella rolled her eyes as if she¡¯d received a telepathic reply. "Patience? Easy for you to say," she responded sarcastically. She cut another piece of steak and ate it slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. Her snake¡¯s advice often came in cryptic nudges rather than direct commands, but there was a strange logic in its simplicity that she couldn¡¯t deny.


    After finishing her meal, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and stood up, tucking the book under her arm. She headed toward the library, the sound of her footsteps echoing against the stone walls as she moved through the dimly lit halls of the Tower.


    The library of the Stone Tower was a massive, cavernous room with rows upon rows of towering bookshelves, each filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and manuscripts. Soft candlelight illuminated the aisles, casting a warm but dim glow that left the far corners of the room in shadows. The air was filled with the scent of old paper and leather, mixed with a faint hint of dust.


    Marcella, the older faculty member who oversaw the library, stood behind a tall desk near the entrance. Her long, black hair flowed down over her blue robe, brushing against the floor as she moved. She had a sharp, attentive gaze that seemed to pierce through the gloom, always aware of who entered and left the library. As Isabella approached, Marcella looked up from a book she was reading, her eyes narrowing slightly with interest.


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    ¡°Marcella,¡± Isabella said, keeping her voice even but respectful. ¡°Do you have any knowledge about snakes or local magical beasts? I¡¯m looking for specific details.¡±


    Marcella studied her for a moment before nodding. "The Serpentine Section," she said, her voice as soft as a whisper. "It¡¯s in the back, third row from the left. You¡¯ll find what you¡¯re looking for there. But remember, each visit costs one contribution point.¡±


    Isabella nodded, handing over the point without hesitation. She followed Marcella¡¯s directions, her eyes darting around the room as she made her way deeper into the library. She reached the designated section and began scanning the spines of the books, her fingers grazing over the old leather-bound volumes. Her snake shifted slightly beneath her robe, a reassuring presence.


    ¡°Grandmother once told me about our contract,¡± she murmured to her familiar. ¡°There¡¯s a book in this library that might help us understand how to support you as you go through your mature stage¡­ and how we can both benefit from a deeper connection. Maybe I won''t need this ritual if your maturity can allow me to break through.¡±


    The snake flicked its tongue out, tasting the air as if it understood every word. Isabella pulled a book from the shelf titled "The Bonds of Serpents and Their Keepers" and began to read. She spent the next several hours pouring over the text, her eyes gleaming with determination as she absorbed the ancient knowledge. Occasionally, she would glance at her familiar, nodding to herself as if confirming a thought.


    From her desk, Marcella watched Isabella with keen interest but said nothing. She had seen many recruits come through these halls, each with their own ambitions and secrets. But there was something different about this girl, something darker and more driven. The overseer decided it was best to keep a close eye on her, at least for now.


    ¡­


    Elsewhere in the Tower, Nando sat in his room, staring intently at the severed, monstrous hand he had claimed from the failed ritual on the Mossy Floater. The hand was grotesque¡ªblackened and withered, with three long, skeletal fingers. It lay on his desk like a morbid relic, twitching occasionally as if still alive. The dim light from a single lantern cast long shadows that danced eerily across the walls.


    Beside the hand lay his knowledge book, opened to a page detailing outer-body transplants. Nando¡¯s eyes moved back and forth between the book and the hand, his thoughts a whirl of conflicting emotions. Was this fate? Was the world trying to tell him something? He wondered if this grotesque hand could be the key to unlocking the next step in his research.


    His book detailed the art of transplantation, focusing on using body parts from magical creatures to graft onto oneself. The process was incredibly dangerous, fraught with potential madness and death. But it also promised power¡ªpower that could set him apart from the others. And here, before him, lay a specimen¡ªa piece of another world¡¯s magic. His fingers twitched with anticipation as he imagined the possibilities.


    ¡°Is this¡­ the right path?¡± he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the darkness. His mind raced through the potential ramifications, both the risks and the rewards. He knew that delving into this kind of magic was walking a thin line between ambition and self-destruction.


    As if in response, the lantern on the wall dimmed even further, the room¡¯s shadows thickening as the flame struggled to stay alive. Midnight was approaching, and with it came a creeping sense of foreboding. Nando sighed deeply and closed his book, deciding that it was enough for tonight. He blew out the lantern and climbed into bed, his mind still buzzing with thoughts of the hand and the path ahead.


    In the silence of his room, Nando could feel the presence of the Tower around him¡ªan ancient, brooding entity watching and waiting. He knew that every step he took from here would carry consequences, but he was willing to face them. If the world was speaking to him, he was ready to listen, even if it led him into the dark.

 Chapter 19: Secrets in Room Eighty

    Chapter 19: Secrets in Room Eighty


    Days passed within the Stone Tower, and Abel immersed himself in his knowledge book every waking moment. The more he read, the more he realized just how intricate and dangerous his path could be. The book outlined a meticulous procedure, filled with arcane techniques and complex symbols that needed to be replicated precisely with a specially crafted magical pen. This pen wasn''t just any ordinary writing instrument¡ªit needed to be fashioned from the feather of a magical bird or a part of a magical beast, imbued with an aura that could harness the flow of mana. The blood required was even trickier; not just any magical beast''s blood would suffice. It needed to be from a creature with certain qualities, ones Abel was still struggling to understand fully.


    Tonight, he had another meeting with Room Eighty, the group that had become his only semblance of allies in this unforgiving tower. Nando had promised to share a new ritual, and the anticipation filled Abel with both excitement and anxiety. As he studied the book in his hand, pouring over its arcane patterns, something strange began to happen. The book started to tremble. A moment later, it grew hot, almost burning his hand. Abel yelped and placed it on the desk, backing away in alarm. The book continued to shake violently, and then, to his horror, sharp, spindly legs burst out from its spine. It twisted and contorted, metamorphosing into a spider-like creature with the body of the book.


    "Is this normal?" Abel whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the sound of his heartbeat. The creature¡ªhis knowledge book¡ªskittered across the wall with unnerving agility, heading straight for the door. To his astonishment, the door creaked open by itself, as if obeying some unseen command. The spider-book crawled out, and Abel watched it move toward the staircase.


    Peering into the hallway, Abel saw other recruits poking their heads out of their rooms, all wearing expressions of confusion and unease. All around, their knowledge books were undergoing the same bizarre transformation, becoming grotesque, insect-like entities clambering down the walls and ceiling in unison. It was as if the books had a life of their own, a collective intelligence guiding them.


    One recruit, panic-stricken, lunged at his book, trying to wrestle it back into his room. "No! I haven¡¯t memorized everything yet!" he pleaded desperately, clutching the book-turned-creature tightly.


    Suddenly, the other books stopped in their tracks, their legs twitching. Without warning, they darted toward the boy, their sharp legs stabbing into his back, arms, and hands repeatedly. Blood splattered onto the stone floor, and the boy screamed in agony, releasing his grip. His cries echoed through the halls, sending a chill down Abel''s spine. The other books returned to their migration as if nothing had happened, leaving the boy bloodied but alive. He staggered back to his room, clutching his wounds, his face pale from blood loss.


    Abel''s stomach churned at the sight, a wave of nausea washing over him. He had seen violence before, but there was something grotesquely unnatural about this. ¡°So, the books have their own will,¡± he thought, a mixture of fear and curiosity churning within him. So it turned out the books were a free trial then, of course, they wouldn''t give anything for free.


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    He knew he needed to meet with Room Eighty soon, and after the books had finished their migration, he quickly made his way to Sena''s room.


    Inside Sena''s room, the atmosphere was tense. Nando, Isabella, and Sena were already there, deep in conversation about the latest Tower news.


    ¡°Did you hear?¡± Nando began, his voice low and conspiratorial. ¡°Not just Three Eyes and Salamander have returned, but Greenthumb is back too.¡±


    Abel looked puzzled. ¡°Greenthumb?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sena explained. ¡°He was a non-gifted recruit like us, but during his expedition, he somehow managed to ascend and became an Apostle. He¡¯s climbed the ranks faster than anyone expected.¡±


    Isabella chimed in, her voice tinged with a mix of admiration and concern. ¡°It¡¯s sent the Tower into a frenzy. Everyone¡¯s wondering how he did it. Becoming an Apostle isn¡¯t just about power; it¡¯s about influence too. His return has shaken things up.¡±


    The room buzzed with speculation and anxiety. Abel took a mental note of this new development. Greenthumb¡¯s meteoric rise was both inspiring and intimidating. If a non-gifted recruit could ascend to an Apostle, maybe there was hope for them too.


    ¡°Alright, enough of that,¡± Nando said, shifting the conversation. ¡°I promised you a ritual, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Nando pulled out several sheets of paper, aged and yellowed, with handwritten instructions scrawled across them. ¡°This is something I brought with me from my family. A luck ritual. One-time use, designed to be performed before something important¡ªlike a breakthrough, a battle, or any significant decision. It¡¯s meant to tip the scales in your favor for a short period, giving you a burst of good fortune.¡±


    ¡°And the requirements?¡± Isabella asked, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Nothing comes for free in the Tower, as Marcella said.¡±


    Nando nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. ¡°Three bodies of magical beasts. Doesn¡¯t matter which ones, as long as they have some essence of magic still in them, and they are around the user the luck ritual could go through. Another important part of the ritual was having a piece of your hair around the ritual site and once all of these requirements are done you can just chant what I wrote on these slips.¡±


    Isabella¡¯s face brightened slightly. ¡°They don¡¯t need their heads, right?¡± she asked, her voice holding a hint of dark humor.


    Nando chuckled. ¡°No, the heads aren¡¯t necessary. Just the bodies.¡±


    The group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts. The ritual had the potential to be incredibly valuable, but the price was steep. Magical beasts were no small feat to obtain, and even if they could find them, the risks involved were great.


    Abel felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. This ritual could be the edge he needed. As he listened to the others discuss possible strategies for acquiring the necessary ingredients, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if this was just the beginning of a path that would lead them further into the darkness of the magical world.


    The meeting ended, and they agreed to regroup in a few days. As they parted ways, Abel¡¯s mind raced with possibilities. The Tower was a place of opportunity, but every opportunity came with a price. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that their choices here would define their fates¡ªwhether they rose to power like Greenthumb or fell like so many others before them

 Chapter 20: The Lay of the Land

    Chapter 20: The Lay of the Land


    It was the second class since their arrival at the Stone Tower, and Abel felt the weight of anticipation in the air. This class followed the last gathering where he had acquired the Luck Ritual¡ªa valuable yet dangerous boon that would require careful timing and execution. Today, they were to learn more about their surroundings and the territories outside the safety of the Tower¡¯s walls. A new faculty member stood at the front of the class¡ªa man Abel had never seen before.


    Professor Poole was a dark-skinned man with a chiseled jawline that gave his face a stern, authoritative appearance. His hazel eyes were sharp and observant, and his dreadlocks were tied back into a thick bundle between his shoulder blades. His presence was commanding, but there was a certain warmth to his demeanor that kept the recruits'' attention.


    "Today," Poole began, his deep voice resonating throughout the room, "we will be discussing the geography surrounding the Stone Tower and the dangers you might face within these lands. Understanding the lay of the land is crucial, especially for those of you who wish to undertake tasks in the near future."


    He moved his hand over a large, rolled-out parchment on the desk behind him, revealing a detailed map of the surrounding regions. His fingers traced the edges of the Tower''s location, which was centrally placed within the Stone Forest¡ªa vast, dense woodland filled with towering, moss-covered trees that extended far beyond the eye could see.


    ¡°First, we have the Inner Perimeter,¡± Poole explained. ¡°This is the area immediately surrounding the Tower that remains under its direct protection. It''s mostly comprised of the Stone Forest, which stretches out for several miles in every direction. Here, within this perimeter, magical creatures do exist, but their power is limited by the Tower¡¯s protective wards.¡±


    The recruits leaned forward, listening intently.


    ¡°Then there is the Outer Perimeter,¡± he continued, pointing to several locations beyond the forest. ¡°This encompasses five distinct regions around the Stone Forest. To the west, we have the rugged Highlands, known for their harsh cliffs and treacherous slopes. To the south, a dense, almost impenetrable forest. To the east lie the lake-filled plains, an area dotted with deep bodies of water that house all sorts of hidden dangers. And to the farthest south¡­ well, there¡¯s still more land that we¡¯ve yet to fully explore.¡±


    The recruits exchanged glances, excitement and anxiety flitting across their faces. Abel¡¯s mind buzzed with the new information, already trying to formulate strategies for his future explorations.


    ¡°The south and east are of particular importance to us,¡± Poole added, his tone more serious. ¡°These are the areas the Stone Tower focuses on exploring and expanding our influence. However, for most of you recruits, your time will be spent within the Inner Perimeter. And while there are magical creatures here, the strongest among them are only as powerful as a newly promoted Apostle. Anything stronger wouldn¡¯t survive within the Stone Forest¡ªit would be swiftly dealt with by the Tower¡¯s protections.¡±


    Poole paused and looked over the room, his eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°Now, who among you can name a creature found within the Inner Perimeter?¡±


    Isabella¡¯s hand shot up with confidence. ¡°The Sleepwalker, Eyesnatcher, and Acid Worms,¡± she said, her voice steady.


    Poole nodded approvingly. ¡°Good. You''ve been making good use of the library, I see. The Sleepwalker is a spirit-like creature known to wander aimlessly through the forest at night, luring the curious or foolish into its grasp. The Eyesnatcher¡­ well, the name speaks for itself. And Acid Worms are nasty critters; best avoided if you value your skin.¡±


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    The class chuckled nervously, but there was a collective sense of respect for Isabella¡¯s knowledge.


    ¡°But,¡± Poole continued, ¡°the most common creature you¡¯ll encounter is the Forest Gremlin. They are mischievous little beasts, similar to goblins but even more treacherous. They aren¡¯t particularly strong, but they are smart. They prey on the weak or those injured during exploration. The only thing they fear is Black Garlic. Make sure you always carry some when venturing into the Inner Perimeter. It could save your life.¡±


    The recruits listened closely, absorbing every word. Abel was fascinated, his mind already working through how he could use this information. Suddenly, Nando raised his hand, his expression serious.


    ¡°Professor,¡± he began, ¡°have you heard of a creature¡­?¡± Nando began to explain the hand he possessed in great detail, from the stench it produced to the way it looked. Ever since he had acquired the hand from the creature, he had analyzed it in detail, so describing it wasn¡¯t much of an issue.


    Poole¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly as he heard the description, his expression darkening. ¡°That looks like a Tomb Walker''s hand. Highly aggressive creatures, capable of driving the mundane mad just by the scent they exude. If you encounter one, run. If you ever feel like you might encounter one, carry Aurora Water with you. These are usually found on the side of certain lakes to the west. Even Apostles that have just broken through find Tomb Walkers challenging.¡±


    A shiver ran through the room. Nando nodded slowly, taking mental notes. Abel and the others exchanged uneasy glances.


    The class continued for another hour as Poole provided more insights into the surrounding areas, the dangers that lurked in both the day and night and the Tower¡¯s policies regarding exploration. ¡°Be cautious at night,¡± he warned. ¡°Strange occurrences have been reported¡ªthings that even the Apostles struggle to explain.¡±


    The gravity of his words hung in the air as the class ended.


    Afterward, the four members of Room Eighty¡ªAbel, Sena, Isabella, and Nando¡ªdecided to head to the task office. As they approached, they noticed that the area was bustling with recruits. The room was filled to the brim, bodies pressed together, all vying to get a look at the available tasks. Abel could feel the energy in the air¡ªtheir desire to prove themselves, to earn contribution points, to survive.


    After waiting for some of the crowd to disperse, they finally made their way to the task board. The tasks varied significantly, ranging from mundane jobs like collecting herbs to more dangerous assignments like assisting in the arcane workshops or even performing basic guard duty. Abel noticed that some of the tasks were posted by Apostles, their names marked in elegant script¡ªApostle Windcaller, Apostle Essence, and even some faculty members like Poole and Glandel.


    Each task was marked with stars¡ªone to three. ¡°Only one-star tasks are available for you lot,¡± Glandel reminded them as he stood by, overseeing the chaotic scene. ¡°Two-star tasks are for Apostles and above.¡±


    Abel nodded, scanning the board carefully already hearing it all before. One-star tasks offered three to ten contribution points, while the higher-star tasks boasted additional rewards¡ªexotic items or rare artifacts.


    Among the many listings, something caught his eye: Assist Marcella in the Library Archives. One-star task. Five contribution points.


    Abel stared at the posting. No one had grabbed it. Perhaps the recruits found the library work dull or Marcella intimidating, but for Abel, this seemed like an opportunity. He quickly reached out and grabbed the parchment before anyone else could take it.


    He turned to Glandel, holding the task slip. ¡°I¡¯d like to take this one.¡±


    Glandel raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from the slip to Abel. ¡°You¡¯re sure about this? Marcella can be¡­ particular.¡±


    Abel nodded, undeterred. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Glandel let out a small chuckle. ¡°Alright, then. Go see Marcella. If she allows it, the task is yours.¡±


    With a nod of thanks, Abel folded the parchment and tucked it into his robe. His heart raced with excitement. This could be the first step toward uncovering the deeper mysteries hidden within the Tower. He left the task office, eager to meet with Marcella and begin his work.

 Chapter 21: Chaos in the Halls

    Chapter 21: Chaos in the Halls


    Abel moved swiftly through the dim corridors of the Stone Tower, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone. The shadows seemed to stretch longer than usual, as if something unseen lurked just beyond his vision. The Tower had always felt imposing, but today, there was a strange weight in the air, a heaviness that clung to his skin. His thoughts drifted back to the grotesque sight of the recruit from earlier¡ªthe spider-like books, skittering across the floor, and the boy''s horrified screams echoing in his ears. He shook the image from his mind as he approached the library.


    The large, dark wooden doors creaked open slowly, revealing the cavernous interior of the library. Rows upon rows of towering shelves loomed overhead, casting deep shadows that seemed to move as the flickering torchlight danced along the walls. The air inside was thick, almost oppressive, and the musty scent of old paper filled his nostrils.


    Marcella was already waiting for him, standing behind her desk as though she had sensed his arrival before he had even entered. Her face was serene and calm, and her pale blue eyes had a soft, maternal warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold, imposing atmosphere of the library.


    "You''re here for the task, aren¡¯t you?" she asked before Abel could speak, her voice a soothing balm in the eerie silence of the library.


    Abel nodded. "Yes, I¡¯m Abel. Glandel sent me for the task."


    Marcella¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile. "Good. It¡¯s rare for someone to choose this task, you know." She paused, her gaze drifting momentarily toward the far corners of the library, where the shadows seemed to stretch and writhe like living things. "But before we begin, there are some things you need to understand."


    Abel felt a slight unease creep up his spine, but he forced himself to listen intently. Marcella¡¯s voice remained soft, but there was something unspoken beneath her words¡ªsomething that made his skin prickle.


    "This library is not like others," she began, her gaze locking onto his. "It must be kept clean and, more importantly, kept... under control. At bay."


    "At bay?" Abel echoed, not fully understanding.


    Marcella¡¯s smile deepened, though there was a flicker of something darker in her eyes. "The books here," she explained, "have a mind of their own. Some of them are mischievous¡ªplayful, even. Others... well, let¡¯s just say they can be a bit temperamental. You must be careful with them, Abel."


    The memory of the spider-like books from earlier returned in full force, sending a shudder through Abel¡¯s body. He imagined those leathery pages snapping and crawling, their spindly legs racing toward him, and it was enough to make his stomach twist.


    "You saw what happened earlier, didn¡¯t you?" Marcella asked as if reading his thoughts. "The poor boy didn¡¯t follow the rules. You must always be aware in this place. The books don¡¯t tolerate carelessness."


    Abel swallowed hard, nodding. "I... I understand."


    "Good." Marcella¡¯s smile softened again, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her touch was cool, but there was something oddly comforting about it. "You¡¯ll be working here after midday. Your hours are flexible, but don¡¯t let other tasks interfere with your duties here. If you do well, this could become a recurring position."


    Abel felt a strange mixture of relief and unease. The library¡ªwhile unnerving¡ªwas at least a safer option than venturing into the dangerous territories outside the Tower. "I¡¯ll do my best," he promised, his voice steady.


    Marcella nodded approvingly. "I¡¯m sure you will. Now, go back to Glandel and confirm your acceptance. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, Abel. And remember, keep the books... at bay."


    As Abel turned to leave, the heavy doors creaked shut behind him with a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. The hallway outside seemed darker now, the shadows clinging to the stone walls like ink. He hurried toward the task office, eager to escape the unsettling atmosphere of the library.


    When he reached Glandel, the taskmaster gave him a nod of approval. "Marcella accepted you, I see," Glandel said, his voice gruff as always.


    "Yes," Abel replied. "She said I could start tomorrow."


    "Good. You¡¯ve landed yourself a decent position, boy. Don¡¯t mess it up."


    Abel gave a small nod and turned to leave, feeling the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. As he made his way toward the stairs, he spotted Sena, Nando, and Isabella waiting nearby. They waved him over, eager to share their news.


    "What task did you get?" Sena asked, curiosity shining in her eyes.


    "The library," Abel answered, his voice steady despite the lingering unease in his gut. "I¡¯ll be working there after midday."


    Isabella raised an eyebrow. "The library? No one ever takes that one."


    Abel shrugged, managing a small smile. "Guess I¡¯m the exception."


    Nando laughed softly. "Better than herb gathering. We all got stuck with those tasks¡ªdifferent parts of the forest. Should be fun." His words were light, but Abel could sense the underlying tension in his voice. The Stone Forest was anything but fun.


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    As they exchanged stories about their assignments, a strange sound echoed through the hall¡ªan unsettling shuffle that immediately drew their attention. The heavy doors of the Tower creaked open, and a figure stumbled inside. At first glance, it was hard to tell if it was a recruit or something else entirely. The boy¡¯s face was pale, almost deathly so, his eyes wide and unfocused, staring in different directions as if he couldn¡¯t see at all. His mouth hung open, drool slipping down his chin, and his hands twitched awkwardly at his sides. His robe resembled the ones worn by the non-gifted students, and his bracelet glowed in a peculiar light.


    The recruits stood frozen as the boy shuffled deeper into the hall, his dragging feet producing a sickening scrape against the stone floor. The unsettling sight of his pallid face, twisted and unnatural, sent waves of fear rippling through the gathered recruits. Whispers of uncertainty and disbelief filled the air, but no one dared move closer. It was as though they were all collectively holding their breath, waiting for some explanation¡ªsome sign that this was a terrible misunderstanding.


    Then the boy groaned¡ªa low, guttural sound that bubbled up from deep within him. His mouth, already hanging slack, began to twitch unnaturally. His eyes, glassy and vacant, rolled in their sockets as if searching for something, but never settling. The bulges beneath his skin moved more violently now, rippling up his arms and neck, squirming like trapped serpents desperate to escape from beneath his skin. His fingers curled and uncurled spasmodically as if he were trying to grasp at something invisible.


    "Is he... okay?" a girl whispered, her voice trembling.


    No one answered. The recruits nearby took a cautious step back, their instincts screaming at them that something was very, very wrong. Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry as he watched the horrific scene unfold moving back with caution.


    Suddenly, the boy let out a strangled gurgle, his body convulsing. His head snapped to the side with a grotesque crack, his spine bending unnaturally as his arms jerked upward. Without warning, he lunged forward, faster than anyone could have anticipated.


    Before anyone could react, the boy¡¯s hands latched onto the throat of a nearby recruit, a girl standing no more than a few feet from where Abel had been frozen in fear. Her scream pierced the air, sharp and desperate, as the boy¡¯s fingers dug into her flesh with inhuman strength. His grip was unrelenting, his twitching body shaking violently as he squeezed tighter.


    Abel¡¯s breath hitched in his throat as he watched in horror. The boy''s mouth opened wide, wider than humanly possible, stretching unnaturally as his jaw unhinged. With a sickening, wet tearing sound, the bulges beneath his skin burst through, wriggling tendrils that snapped outward like frenzied eels. They writhed, their slimy, segmented bodies wriggling toward the girl¡¯s face. Abel felt the bile rise in his throat as he watched one tendril force itself into her mouth, while others slithered up her nostrils and into her ears.


    The girl¡¯s eyes bulged, her screams muffled as blood began to pour from her nose and mouth. Her body convulsed violently, her limbs jerking as if being shocked with raw power. The other recruits screamed, backing away in panic, their faces twisted in terror as they scrambled to escape the horror before them.


    Suddenly, the girl''s entire body stiffened. Her back arched grotesquely, and then, with a horrifying crunch, her head snapped back at an unnatural angle. The light in her eyes dimmed, her body going limp as she collapsed to the ground, lifeless.


    Chaos erupted. Recruits scattered in every direction, their panicked screams filling the air as they tripped over each other in their desperate attempt to flee.


    "Get back! Move!" someone shouted, their voice barely cutting through the cacophony.


    Abel stumbled backward, his heart hammering in his chest, his legs trembling with fear. His eyes remained fixed on the grotesque boy, who now stood over the girl¡¯s mangled body, his chest heaving with erratic, twitching breaths. The tendrils that had emerged from beneath his skin continued to writhe, still slick with blood as they slithered back into his body with a sickening squelch. The boy¡¯s head lolled to one side, his mouth still agape, and a garbled sound rumbled from deep within his throat¡ªlike a moan mixed with a snarl.


    And then, the boy''s head snapped toward another recruit.


    He lurched forward with a speed that defied his earlier shambling gait, his arms outstretched, fingers twitching as though eager to claim another victim. The target, a young man barely able to move in his terror, stumbled and fell to the ground, his eyes wide with panic as he scrambled backward. The boy¡¯s claw-like hands reached out, his fingers just inches from the recruit''s face¡ª


    "Enough!"


    Glandel¡¯s voice boomed through the hall like a thunderclap. His presence was immediate and commanding, cutting through the chaos with an authority that stopped everyone in their tracks. The recruits who hadn¡¯t yet fled froze, their eyes snapping to the figure of the stern faculty member as he marched toward the horrifying scene, his expression hard and grim.


    With a fluid motion, Glandel extended his hand, muttering a string of incantations under his breath. A pulse of dark energy radiated from his palm, streaking across the hall like a shadowy whip. The tendrils that had once wriggled beneath the boy¡¯s skin recoiled violently as if burned by the power. The boy let out a garbled shriek, his body jerking and spasming as the dark magic coiled around him, binding him in place.


    "Everyone, to your rooms!" Glandel bellowed, his voice like a hammer, brooking no argument. "Now!"


    The recruits didn¡¯t need to be told twice. They fled, rushing toward the stairwells in a stampede of fear and panic. Abel hesitated for a moment, his body trembling as he watched Glandel approach the abomination that had once been a boy. The dark magic wrapped tighter around the creature, its twitching movements growing slower, more strained.


    The grotesque boy¡¯s eyes, still unfocused and wild, darted around the room, a low, keening sound rising from his throat. Blood and drool spilled from his open mouth, and his body shuddered as the wriggling mass beneath his skin tried to break free once more.


    But Glandel was relentless. He stepped closer, his hand outstretched, the magic pulsing stronger. With a final, wrenching cry, the boy¡¯s body convulsed violently before collapsing to the floor, the last of the tendrils curling inward and dissolving into the air like wisps of smoke.


    Silence fell over the hall.


    Abel stood frozen, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his mind struggling to comprehend the horror he had just witnessed. The room was eerily still, save for the faint crackle of residual magic in the air. Glandel stood over the boy¡¯s twisted form, his face grim, his eyes cold as he surveyed the aftermath. Without looking up, he spoke in a low, firm voice.


    "This is a warning to all of you," he said, his tone icy. "This Tower protects those within its walls¡ªbut there are forces at play here that none of you are prepared to face. Now, return to your rooms and always stay cautious. Do not leave until summoned."


    Abel¡¯s legs finally obeyed him, and he stumbled back toward the stairs, his mind still reeling from the gruesome sight. The Tower, once a place of mystery and opportunity, now felt like something else entirely¡ªsomething darker, something far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.

 Chapter 22: Unease in the Stacks

    Chapter 22: Unease in the Stacks


    Abel was currently deep in the quiet, shadow-filled expanse of the Stone Tower¡¯s library. The vast halls stretched endlessly, lined with towering shelves filled with books, scrolls, and manuscripts that spanned across countless topics¡ªranging from mundane tales of old to the most obscure and dangerous arcane lore. He had greeted Marcella when he entered, and without much conversation, she had given him his task for the day: organizing the shelves and ensuring that no books were missing.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± Marcella had said in her usual calm and motherly tone, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. ¡°But keep an eye on them. The books can get a little... playful.¡±


    Abel had given her a curious glance but said nothing. He didn¡¯t want to question her, even though the warning made his skin crawl. Marcella always had an odd way of saying things, her smile too kind, her words too careful. He decided it was best to just take her advice and proceed with caution.


    He made his way through the endless rows of shelves, the air growing colder and the light dimming as he delved deeper into the library¡¯s labyrinthine corridors. The further he went, the more isolated he felt, as though the world outside no longer existed. Despite the grand size of the space, it felt like he was being drawn into something far more intimate¡ªa place where time and reality seemed to shift.


    The shelves grew older, and the books themselves felt heavier, their spines cracked and their pages thick with dust. He ran his fingers lightly over their rough covers as he passed them, their strange, ancient symbols staring back at him in silent judgment. Every now and then, he would glance at his list and check the inventory, but for the most part, everything seemed to be in order.


    Yet, there was an eerie vibe to it all. The library was quiet¡ªtoo quiet. It felt like a place that had been left untouched for centuries, the only sound being his own footsteps echoing faintly against the stone floor. Abel tried to ignore it, but the longer he worked, the more unsettled he became. There was something wrong with the silence, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.


    As he knelt to check the bottom row of a shelf, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest when he heard a noise from above¡ªa soft but unmistakable thud. It was as if something had shifted high up on the top shelves.


    Abel froze, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, he stood up, his eyes scanning the towering shelves. Nothing seemed out of place. He swallowed hard, trying to calm his nerves. But the sound had been real, he was sure of it.


    With shaky hands, he reached up toward the higher shelves. His fingers grazed over the books until they found one that was slightly out of place¡ªa thick, dark blue volume with a faded title: Constellations in the sky. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the book as if it held some secret knowledge, something he wasn¡¯t meant to find. Then, with a small push, he slid the book back into position.


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    For a moment, everything was still. The silence pressed in around him like a suffocating blanket, and he let out a quiet sigh, feeling a small measure of relief. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the books had just shifted naturally.


    But just as he bent down to resume his work, the same thud came again, louder this time.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as he whipped around. The book¡ªthat same book¡ªhad once again slid halfway out of the shelf.


    A chill crawled down his spine. His breath grew shallow, and he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was watching him, something unseen lurking in the shadowy corners of the library. He reached for the book once more, gripping it tightly as he pushed it firmly back into place. His hands trembled slightly, his mind racing with unease.


    What was going on here?


    The library had always felt strange, but this... this was different. The atmosphere had shifted, the air thick with tension. He glanced around, half-expecting to see a figure standing in the shadows, watching him with unseen eyes. But there was nothing. Just the endless rows of books and the flickering torchlight casting long, eerie shadows across the stone walls.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Abel¡¯s shift came to an end. The sun had begun to set, casting a warm orange glow through the high windows and bathing the library in an ethereal light. He exhaled deeply, grateful to be finished for the day. As much as he enjoyed his time in the library, the oppressive atmosphere had worn him down.


    As he made his way back to the entrance, the doors opened and in came the familiar faces of Room Eighty¡ªSena, Isabella, and Nando. They looked tired but satisfied with their day''s work, and Abel smiled as he approached them.


    ¡°How was the mission?¡± he asked, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of unease.


    Isabella shrugged. ¡°Not bad. No real danger, but the forest has a way of making you feel... watched.¡±


    Sena nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s creepy out there, especially at night. We managed to gather what we needed, but we¡¯ll have to head back tomorrow to finish the task.¡±


    Abel listened intently, his thoughts drifting back to his own strange experience in the library. ¡°Well, it sounds like you had a more exciting day than I did. I spent my time shelving books and dealing with one that kept moving.¡±


    ¡°Moving?¡± Nando raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you serious?¡±


    Abel nodded. ¡°Yeah, it kept sliding out of place. Marcella warned me that the books in the library can be... temperamental. I didn¡¯t believe her at first, but now... I¡¯m starting to think there¡¯s more to this place than meets the eye.¡±


    Sena smirked. ¡°You¡¯re not scared, are you?¡±


    Abel chuckled softly, though the memory of the book still sent a shiver down his spine. ¡°No... just cautious. There¡¯s something off about that library, but I¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    The four of them talked for a while longer, exchanging stories of their respective tasks and speculating about the rumors they had heard around the Tower. Word had spread that some of the more experienced recruits would soon be attempting to break through to the next level of their training. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, and the recruits knew that the coming days would bring challenges and trials, both for themselves and those who sought to rise above their current ranks.


    As they finally headed up the stairs toward their rooms, Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was lurking just beyond his understanding, something dark and mysterious that hid within the very walls of the Stone Tower.

 Chapter 23: Gravediggers Task

    Chapter 23: Gravedigger''s Task


    Two days had passed, and Abel had settled into a familiar routine that brought a sense of stability in the otherwise unpredictable life at the Stone Tower. He would wake up early, often before the first light broke through the sky, spending his mornings in the vast, silent library. Organizing shelves, categorizing texts, and ensuring everything was in its rightful place became his daily duties. The musty scent of ancient paper and ink grew to be a comfort rather than a nuisance, and the rhythmic sounds of his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet library offered a strange solace. The place had its own life, its own pulse, and Abel had come to feel like he was part of it.


    After finishing his morning shift, he would retreat to his room for a moment of peace or spend time with the members of Room Eighty. Their afternoons were often filled with stories, mostly shared in the small rooms of the members of room eighty. The sounds of recruits at this point were soothing as they told tales of myths and legends from their various homelands. Sometimes, the conversation shifted to rumors that swirled around the Tower¡ªdark whispers of creatures lurking in the shadows, of recruits who had disappeared, and the ever-present danger that seemed to hum beneath the surface of the Tower¡¯s routine.


    Marcella, the overseer of the library, had been pleased with Abel¡¯s meticulous work. She hadn¡¯t been shy in her praise. "You¡¯ve done good work," she had told him that morning, her voice soft yet firm, as though her approval was both a gift and a responsibility. Her motherly tone made him feel at ease like he was finally finding his place within the Tower¡¯s structure. "I¡¯m happy to let you take on other tasks, as long as it doesn¡¯t interfere with your time here." She had even offered him the option to work another week in the library. Abel eagerly accepted, the idea of being surrounded by the endless tomes of knowledge growing on him. Marcella had also begun to let him read one book of his choice after each shift¡ªa privilege Abel did not take lightly.


    There was something comforting about the routine, about being surrounded by the quiet energy of the library. Still, the silence was occasionally unsettling. Since his eerie encounter with the constellation book¡ªa book that seemed to have a life of its own¡ªthere had been no other strange occurrences. No more books sliding out of place on their own, no strange thuds or whispers in the dark corners. The library had returned to its usual quiet, and with that, a sense of calm settled over Abel.


    But routine could only sustain his curiosity for so long. He wanted more, craved the thrill of something beyond the library¡¯s safe walls. That afternoon, after finishing his work, Abel decided to head to the task office. It was time to find something that would take him outside the Tower¡¯s confines, something that would challenge him. The office, as always, was alive with recruits going about their business¡ªsome milling around with task slips in hand, others poring over the large board of available missions that dominated the far wall. The board listed tasks based on difficulty, danger, and reward, each one calling to a different type of recruit.


    Abel scanned the board, his eyes flicking over various postings, most of which seemed tedious or too dangerous for his liking. His gaze stopped at one task that seemed to offer a decent balance: it promised a reasonable ten contribution points and was rated as relatively low-danger. He leaned in to read the details more closely.


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    Task: Assist Recruit Gravedigger


    The name "Gravedigger" gave Abel pause. He wasn¡¯t one of the Tower¡¯s more famous recruits, certainly not as well-known as some of the higher-ranked individuals. Gravedigger had returned to the Tower under much less fanfare, but this task seemed straightforward enough. Abel had no personal knowledge of him, but the ten points were hard to ignore, especially for a task set within the Inner Perimeter, a protected area under the Tower¡¯s influence. There were also several task notes attached, indicating that more recruits were likely taking on this task as well¡ªa reassuring detail that made Abel feel a bit more confident.


    He spotted Glandel standing nearby, observing the hustle of the task office with his usual stern expression. Abel approached him with the task slip in hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take this one,¡± Abel said, pointing at the task on the board.


    Glandel raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. ¡°Gravedigger, huh? He¡¯s not exactly in the limelight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m intrigued,¡± Abel replied with a shrug. ¡°And ten points is a good incentive.¡±


    Glandel gave a small nod, his rough features unreadable as he scribbled down the necessary notes on a parchment. ¡°You¡¯ll meet him tomorrow at sundown on the first floor. He¡¯ll brief you on the task then. Just be cautious¡ªGravedigger might not be famous, but he takes his work seriously. Don¡¯t underestimate the task.¡±


    Abel nodded, thanking Glandel, but there was a growing excitement bubbling up inside him. For days, he had been within the safety of the Tower, organizing books and navigating the hidden nuances of the library. Now, the thought of venturing out, even if just within the Tower¡¯s protective perimeter, brought an intoxicating mix of excitement and nerves.


    That evening, Abel found himself in the common room with the other members of Room Eighty. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a soft glow across their faces as they sat together, sharing stories about the day¡¯s events.


    ¡°So, what¡¯d you pick up today?¡± Sena asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as she leaned back in her chair.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be helping a recruit named Gravedigger,¡± Abel said casually, though the name seemed to catch the attention of his friends.


    ¡°Gravedigger?¡± Isabella repeated, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of him. Not a big name, but he¡¯s¡­ persistent.¡±


    ¡°What kind of task is it?¡± Nando chimed in, twirling a silver ring on his finger, a habit Abel had come to recognize after a while.


    Abel shrugged. ¡°Not entirely sure yet. We¡¯re meeting tomorrow at sundown for a briefing. Seems low-risk, though. It¡¯s all within the Inner Perimeter, so nothing too dangerous.¡±


    Sena groaned. ¡°Lucky you. I got stuck with herb gathering again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d take herbs over running into another Tomb Walker,¡± Isabella muttered darkly, her voice tinged with the weight of a past encounter. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Abel. Just keep your guard up. The Inner Perimeter might be safer, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s without danger.¡±


    They spent the next hour exchanging stories, rumors, and gossip about the Tower, their voices mingling with the steady crackle of the fire. Despite the occasional humor, there was always a palpable tension¡ªan understanding that in the Tower, any task could be a matter of life and death. Abel felt a deepening sense of camaraderie with the group, but the thought of his upcoming task lingered in his mind. Gravedigger, who was this recruit, and what did he have in store for those who joined him?


    As the night grew late, the group slowly disbanded, heading off to their rooms for the night. Abel lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as shadows from the window danced across the stone walls. His thoughts turned back to the task ahead, his mind racing with curiosity and apprehension. The Inner Perimeter, while protected, held its own mysteries. What awaited him out there?


    Sleep came eventually, but not before Abel¡¯s mind wandered one last time to the dark, winding paths outside the Tower.

 Chapter 24: Legacy of Survival

    Chapter 24: Legacy of Survival


    The morning sun cast a pale glow over the Stone Tower as Abel awoke to the soft sound of footsteps in the hallway. Today was different¡ªthere was no library duty awaiting him. With his shifts scheduled only a few days a week, he had the luxury of a free afternoon. But first, there was class.


    After washing up and putting on his dark gray recruit robes, Abel made his way to the lecture hall. The Tower always felt quiet in the mornings, as if the air itself was still waking up. The stone walls echoed with distant murmurs and the occasional sound of boots against the floor, but otherwise, silence prevailed.


    Today¡¯s class was led by Glandel, his tall frame standing at the front of the room as recruits shuffled to their seats. The dim lighting of the hall made the heavy atmosphere even more palpable.


    Glandel¡¯s voice boomed as he began to speak, and the room settled into silence. His expression was severe as ever, his dark eyes scanning the room before focusing on the map that hung behind him¡ªa vast, sprawling depiction of the Rollan Kingdom and the lands surrounding it.


    ¡°Today, we¡¯ll be discussing the Rollan Kingdom, the last bastion of humanity after the fall of the Old Kingdoms,¡± Glandel began, his gravelly voice echoing through the hall. ¡°The history of this kingdom is as bloody as it is legendary, and each of you must understand where we came from and why these Towers are so important.¡±


    Abel leaned forward, intrigued. The fall of the Old Kingdoms had always been shrouded in mystery, the specifics of it scattered across conflicting texts and fragmented lore. Even in the library, Abel had found little that provided clarity. But here, Glandel seemed ready to unravel some of the deeper truths.


    Glandel gestured toward the map, his finger tracing the central landmass where the Stone Tower was located. ¡°Long ago, the human race ruled over vast territories. Kingdoms stretched across continents, and magic flourished in every corner of the world. But our arrogance cost us dearly. We grew complacent, believing ourselves untouchable. And then came the Fall.¡±


    He paused, letting his words settle. ¡°We were overrun by forces we did not understand. The world beyond the borders of our kingdom became a nightmare. Dark creatures from the depths of the earth, the seas, and even the skies assaulted us, driven by powers far older and more malevolent than any human could comprehend.¡±


    The recruits sat in silence, their faces reflecting a mixture of fear and fascination. Abel''s heart beat a little faster as he thought of the tales he''d read, but none of them had captured the horror Glandel was now describing.


    ¡°The Rollan Kingdom was formed in the aftermath,¡± Glandel continued. ¡°King Rollan, a man of extraordinary vision and strength, united the surviving clans and families. Under his leadership, the kingdom we now call home was forged. But make no mistake, the Rollan Kingdom can be a fragile thing if we allow it. It is held together by the magic of these Towers, each one a symbol of our strength and our reach.¡±


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    Glandel¡¯s finger pointed to various towers scattered across the map. ¡°These Towers are more than just fortresses¡ªthey are our hope. They serve as magical anchors that prevent the spread of corruption and keep the dark forces at bay. As you rise through the ranks, you will come to understand just how vital they are to the survival of our race.¡±


    Abel¡¯s mind raced. He had always thought of the Towers as places of refuge, as training grounds for future Apostles. But now, it seemed they were something much more¡ªa line of defense against a world that wanted humanity erased.


    ¡°King Rollan¡¯s greatest legacy,¡± Glandel continued, his tone heavy with reverence, ¡°was the creation of the Magical Towers. The secrets of their construction are known only to a select few. Some say the blueprints were given to King Rollan by an ancient, benevolent force; others claim he discovered them during his many expeditions to forgotten ruins. But whatever the truth may be, these Towers are the reason we still exist.¡±


    The room was hushed, the weight of the information sinking in. Abel found himself imagining the vast, forgotten kingdoms that once spanned the earth, now reduced to ruin and shadow. What kind of power had brought humanity to the brink of extinction? And how had King Rollan managed to stave off total annihilation?


    ¡°And don¡¯t think,¡± Glandel added, his voice taking on a darker edge, ¡°that all of humanity¡¯s enemies lie outside our borders. There are forces within the kingdom itself¡ªrogue Apostles, forbidden cults, and worse¡ªthat seek to tear us apart from the inside. Be wary of those who whisper promises of power. The price is always higher than it seems.¡±


    The warning hung in the air like a specter, and Abel felt a chill crawl up his spine. He glanced around the room, noticing that others were similarly affected. Glandel¡¯s words carried an undeniable gravity, a reminder that the world outside the Stone Tower was not as distant as they might like to believe.


    ¡°As you progress,¡± Glandel concluded, ¡°you will learn more about the Rollan Kingdom¡¯s history, its mysteries, and its enemies. But for now, understand this: our survival depends on the Towers and on your ability to protect and expand their reach.¡±


    The class ended shortly after, leaving Abel deep in thought as he made his way out of the hall. The other members of Room Eighty were still occupied with their herb-gathering tasks, so he walked alone toward the main hall on the first floor, where he was scheduled to meet the recruit known as Gravedigger.


    The anticipation of the task ahead weighed on him. He had never met Gravedigger, and the name alone conjured images of someone dark and mysterious. Abel had no idea what to expect from this recruit, only that Gravedigger was said to be at a crucial stage in his journey to becoming an Apostle. The contribution points were good, but something was unsettling about the assignment.


    As he reached the main hall, Abel scanned the room for Gravedigger or anyone who might be involved in the task. The hall was bustling with recruits, some preparing for their own missions while others chatted in small groups, their voices low and filled with excitement.


    Abel waited patiently, his thoughts still lingering on Glandel¡¯s lecture and the dark history of the kingdom.

 Chapter 25: A Bone to Carry

    Chapter 25: A Bone to Carry


    Abel stood in the main hall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited. The hall was dimly lit, its large arched windows casting faint beams of the early evening sun across the stone floor. Recruits were bustling around him, some heading out for their tasks, others chatting in small groups. His eyes roamed the room until something caught his attention¡ªa group of people congregating around a young man.


    This young man was hard to miss, not because of his appearance, but because of the strange bone sticking out of the leather bag on his back. The bone was massive, thick and bleached white, and it poked out from the bag like a strange banner above his head. It looked like the femur of some enormous creature, and with the short shovel hanging from his waist, Abel immediately pieced together who this must be.


    Gravedigger.


    The man had rough, angular facial features, his brown curly hair falling messily over his forehead. He looked weathered, his eyes focused, though there was an intensity to his posture that suggested this was no ordinary day for him. His robes, though worn and plain, were functional¡ªdesigned more for practicality than aesthetics, unlike the more ornate attire worn by some of the recruits. Gravedigger wasn¡¯t here to impress anyone with his appearance.


    Abel approached cautiously, weaving through the clusters of recruits until he stood before Gravedigger. The other man¡¯s sharp eyes met his, and without a hint of pleasantry, Gravedigger nodded solemnly. It was clear this wasn¡¯t a day for idle chatter; it was a day that could change his life.


    "You''re here for the task?" Gravedigger asked, his voice low and steady, though tinged with the pressure of what was to come.


    Abel nodded. "I am."


    Gravedigger looked around at the small group that had gathered¡ªsix of them in total. Abel recognized a few faces from his classes, though no one he was particularly close to. The air between them was thick with anticipation, the gravity of the situation palpable. It wasn¡¯t often that someone stood on the cusp of breaking through to Apostle, and even rarer that recruits were invited to witness such an event.


    "Good," Gravedigger said after a moment. "Since everyone¡¯s here, we can head out."


    He cleared his throat and began explaining the task. ¡°I¡¯m heading toward the northwest, just within the inner perimeter, to a clearing I¡¯ve scouted. That¡¯s where I¡¯ll be conducting the ritual. Your job is simple¡ªwatch my back. Ensure nothing and no one interrupts the process, be it creatures or¡­ anyone with ill intentions.¡±


    Gravedigger¡¯s words hung in the air for a moment. Abel noticed the others shifting uneasily at the mention of ¡°ill intentions.¡± It was a known fact that some within the Tower sought to sabotage breakthroughs out of jealousy or personal gain. Even the inner perimeter, typically considered safer, wasn¡¯t without its dangers.


    The group gave nods of understanding, their expressions serious. Abel¡¯s eyes briefly met Gravedigger¡¯s again before the man turned and motioned for them to follow. They moved out of the Tower as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.


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    ¡­


    As they stepped beyond the protective walls of the Tower, the atmosphere changed. The comforting warmth of the Tower''s light was quickly replaced by the eerie twilight of the Stone Forest. The statues along the path glowed faintly, their pale light casting long shadows on the forest floor, but it wasn¡¯t enough to dispel the creeping darkness that slowly swallowed the woods.


    The forest here was unnervingly still. The trees stood tall and rigid, their trunks covered in thick, twisted vines that seemed to writhe in the fading light. Every now and then, Abel caught glimpses of movement in his peripheral vision¡ªsmall, darting shadows that vanished before he could fully register them. The air was heavy and cold, carrying with it a sense of foreboding that wrapped around the group like a shroud.


    The wind howled softly, whispering through the dense canopy above, carrying with it the strange sounds of the forest. Low creaks, distant rustlings, and the occasional unnatural screech that made the hair on the back of Abel¡¯s neck stand on end. Even the trees themselves seemed to sigh as if alive, their leaves trembling as though something unseen moved through them.


    Abel kept his eyes peeled, the path ahead of him obscured by the growing darkness. The statues became fewer and farther between, and the pale glow they emitted grew weaker. With each step, the Tower felt more and more distant, its protective influence waning. He glanced around at the others, noticing their unease as well. Gravedigger remained focused, his pace steady, the large bone on his back swaying slightly with each step.


    They walked for what felt like an eternity through the creeping gloom until finally, the forest opened up into a small clearing. The last light of the setting sun bathed the area in a soft, crimson hue, casting long, jagged shadows that made the trees look more like twisted, skeletal figures than simple plants.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Gravedigger announced, his voice breaking the tense silence.


    The group spread out around the clearing, keeping a wide perimeter as Gravedigger began to set up for the ritual. He unhooked the shovel from his waist and placed it on the ground next to the massive bone he carried. With careful precision, he began drawing a series of intricate symbols in the dirt, each line deliberate and purposeful.


    Abel¡¯s heart raced as he scanned the surrounding forest. The light was quickly fading, and darkness crept in from all sides. The air had grown colder, and the strange noises of the forest had become more pronounced¡ªcloser, even. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig seemed amplified, as though something was lurking just beyond the trees, waiting.


    Gravedigger worked in silence, the scraping sound of his shovel against the earth the only steady noise. Abel caught the occasional glance from the others, their eyes wide and alert. No one spoke, their collective anxiety building as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, and the clearing was swallowed by darkness.


    The only light now came from the faintly glowing statues in the distance and the soft luminescence of the symbols Gravedigger had carved into the ground. The clearing itself seemed to hum with energy, an almost imperceptible vibration that Abel could feel in his bones.


    Gravedigger wiped the sweat from his brow and stood up, his breath visible in the cold night air. "It¡¯s time," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Stay sharp. Watch my back."


    He knelt by the large bone and placed both hands on it, his eyes closed in concentration. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse in response, the symbols glowing brighter as the ritual began.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the darkness surrounding them, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger. The wind had died completely, leaving the clearing in a suffocating silence. The only sound was the soft murmur of Gravedigger¡¯s voice as he chanted, calling upon whatever forces would guide him through this breakthrough.


    The forest around them felt alive, watching, waiting.


    And somewhere, in the far distance, a faint, guttural growl echoed through the trees.

 Chapter 26: Ritual of The Dead

    Chapter 26: Ritual of The Dead


    The growl was faint, but it echoed through the clearing like a warning. Abel stiffened, his senses sharpening as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The forest, which had been eerily quiet during Gravedigger¡¯s preparations, now felt alive with something sinister. Around him, the other recruits shifted uneasily, exchanging nervous glances.


    The wind had died down, leaving only the oppressive silence. Abel''s pulse quickened, and his grip on his dagger tightened as he scanned the tree line. He wasn¡¯t sure what he expected, but the tension in the air made his stomach twist. Something was wrong.


    Gravedigger remained focused in the center of the clearing, kneeling before the massive bone he had laid on the ground. His chants filled the air, rhythmic and haunting, while the symbols around him pulsed faintly with energy. Abel could see beads of sweat forming on the man¡¯s brow, his concentration unwavering as the ritual neared its climax.


    Then, a low growl echoed from the depths of the forest, louder this time, closer. Abel¡¯s eyes flicked toward the sound, his breath catching in his throat. He wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed. One of the other recruits, a girl with wild, black curls and a scar across her cheek, glanced nervously at the trees.


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    Abel nodded slowly, his gaze locked on the shadows between the trees. He strained to hear, but the forest seemed to hold its breath. The sense of wrongness grew, pressing down on him like an invisible weight.


    Another growl, deeper now, sent a shiver down his spine. His heart pounded in his chest, his eyes darting to the other recruits. The tension was palpable, and even though they hadn¡¯t seen anything yet, Abel knew something was coming.


    Without warning, the creature emerged from the shadows, its form hulking and grotesque. It was larger than Abel had anticipated, its long, sinewy limbs dragging across the ground as it advanced on them. Its body was a twisted mockery of life¡ªfur matted with filth, skin stretched tightly over sharp bones, and its glowing, hollow eyes fixed on Gravedigger at the center of the clearing.


    Abel felt his blood run cold. The creature let out a bone-chilling screech, and the recruits instinctively spread out, their weapons drawn, ready for a fight.


    ¡°Stay calm!¡± Lorne, one of the older recruits, shouted, his voice steady. Abel recognized him as a tall, broad-shouldered young man with a scar running down his arm. In the Mossy Floater, many other recruits would ask to make conversation with Lorne making him someone who already had some clout and respect. ¡°We protect Gravedigger. Focus on that!¡±


    Abel wasn¡¯t about to charge in headlong. He had been in the Stone Tower long enough to know better. He kept his distance, waiting for an opening, his eyes darting between the recruits, searching for their plan of attack.


    Lorne acted first, pulling out a black iron sphere from a pouch at his waist. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it toward the creature. The sphere exploded in midair, unleashing a thick, inky smoke that coiled around the beast¡¯s limbs, slowing its movements. The creature let out a frustrated growl, its claws scraping uselessly against the ground as it struggled to move forward.


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    Next, Elara, the girl with the scar on her cheek, raised a glowing lantern. With a twist of her wrist, the light flared brightly, casting a beam directly at the creature¡¯s eyes. It recoiled, hissing in pain, its hollow eyes now blind to their movements.


    Abel saw his chance. While the creature was disoriented, he moved in his dagger at the ready. His strike was quick and precise, the blade finding purchase in the creature¡¯s side. It screeched in fury, the wound shallow but enough to draw blood.


    Abel jumped back just in time as the creature swung its massive claw at him, missing by inches. His heart pounded in his chest as he retreated to the relative safety of the group.


    The teamwork unfolding around him was impressive. Each recruit used their magical artifact to weaken the creature further. Lorne moved in again, his serrated blade flashing as he slashed at the creature¡¯s exposed side, leaving a deep gash. The beast screeched once more, stumbling backward.


    But before they could finish it off, the ground beneath Gravedigger trembled violently, and a surge of energy pulsed through the clearing.


    Gravedigger¡¯s chanting reached its peak, and the symbols around him flared to life with a brilliant, eerie light. The ancient bone at the center of the ritual began to vibrate, its surface cracking as though something deep within it was awakening. A low hum filled the air, and the bone started to disintegrate, the dust swirling around Gravedigger in a protective vortex.


    Abel watched in awe as the ritual reached its climax. Gravedigger¡¯s eyes were wide, his body trembling as he completed the final words of the chant. The bone dust spiraled faster and faster until it condensed into a floating shape above him¡ªan ethereal ribcage, made entirely of glowing bone. It hovered there for a moment before slowly lowering itself onto Gravedigger, fusing with him. That must have been a manifestation of his mana pool.


    Gravedigger¡¯s body shuddered as the power of bone manipulation coursed through him. His hands glowed with the same ethereal energy, and the ground beneath him began to rumble. From the earth, skeletal hands¡ªmade of pure bone¡ªrose and gripped the soil, responding to his newfound power.


    Just as this transformation took place, the creature screeched again. It had sensed the power shift, and its instincts screamed at it to flee. Abel could see the desperation in its movements. It turned, limping away from the clearing, blood dripping from its wounds, knowing it had lost.


    The recruits held their ground, weapons at the ready, but the beast¡¯s retreat was swift. It limped into the shadows of the forest, disappearing into the darkness, wounded but alive.


    Gravedigger, now fully embraced by his new power, stood in the center of the clearing, panting heavily. The glowing ribcage slowly faded from view, but the aura of bone magic lingered around him. He flexed his hands experimentally, and to everyone¡¯s amazement, skeletal structures began to rise from the earth around him¡ªshields, weapons, even skeletal warriors ready to obey his command.


    The other recruits stared in awe, their expressions a mixture of relief and disbelief.


    ¡°We did it,¡± Elara muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Lorne wiped the blood from his blade and sheathed it, glancing over at Gravedigger. ¡°Looks like you got what you came for.¡±


    Gravedigger, still catching his breath, nodded slowly. ¡°I did¡­ Thanks to all of you.¡±


    Abel let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. He had landed a hit on the creature, and while it had escaped, they had protected Gravedigger and succeeded in their task. He didn¡¯t need to be the hero; they had all contributed in their own way.


    As they gathered themselves, Gravedigger made the glowing ribcage appear once more from within himself as it transformed into a huge femur which he grabbed and placed it on his back and turned to the group, his voice steady. ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the Tower. We¡¯ve done what we came to do.¡±


    The forest, once again, fell into eerie silence as they made their way back to the Stone Tower. The memory of the battle lingered in the chilly night air, but Abel knew this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 27: Audience With The Overseer

    Chapter 27: Audience With The Overseer


    Abel walked alongside the others, the looming trees of the Stone Forest casting long, ominous shadows over their path. Every now and then, a breeze would sweep through, making the branches creak and the leaves rustle like whispered secrets passing between ancient beings. The atmosphere was tense, thick with an eerie stillness that made the forest seem alive¡ªwatchful. Though their task was done and Gravedigger¡¯s breakthrough had been successful, there was a palpable unease that followed them as if the forest itself wasn¡¯t ready to let them go.


    Elara, her face lit by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the branches, sidled closer to Lorne, her interest in him now unmistakable. "You were amazing back there, Lorne," she said, her voice almost too loud against the quiet murmur of the night.


    Lorne gave a modest shrug but couldn¡¯t hide his pride. "My family... they¡¯re warriors. I¡¯ve trained for this my whole life." His voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it, a practiced confidence that spoke of years spent honing his skills. Abel listened but remained quiet, keeping to the back of the group. He was impressed by Lorne¡¯s abilities but wasn¡¯t the type to get drawn into these conversations.


    His mind was still buzzing from the encounter earlier, the creature¡¯s twisted form, and Gravedigger¡¯s ritual. The chill in the air seemed to deepen as they walked, the occasional snap of a branch or distant growl only adding to the oppressive weight of the forest. Abel glanced at the shadows out of habit, convinced for a moment that he saw them move on their own. He shook the thought away, but the uneasy feeling lingered.


    Gravedigger, now walking with a more confident stride, was in high spirits. His breakthrough had clearly given him a new sense of power, and there was a quiet authority about him now that hadn¡¯t been there before. The bone strapped to his back seemed to pulse with a strange energy, as though it were still connected to whatever ancient force had helped him become an Apostle.


    "There¡¯s something you all need to know," Gravedigger said suddenly, his voice gravelly yet calm, breaking the tension as they made their way through the forest. "Becoming an Apostle... it¡¯s not about hitting some magic number or threshold. You need a stimulant¡ªsomething powerful enough to spark a reaction, to gather and focus the mana inside you, further allowing you to manifest your mana pool."


    He paused for a moment, and Abel could see the others hanging on his every word, Elara included.


    "For me," Gravedigger continued, patting the ancient bone slung over his back, "it was this. The bone¡¯s mana... it acted as the catalyst. I fused with its essence, and now it¡¯s part of me. If you want to reach that next level, you¡¯ll need to find your own stimulant."


    Abel listened carefully, mentally taking notes. The idea of needing a stimulant to focus mana and create a mana pool was a revelation. It gave him direction¡ªsomething tangible to work towards. Around him, the others were nodding thoughtfully, clearly thinking the same thing. This information could be vital for their futures, and Gravedigger had just handed it to them.


    The group continued their journey, their conversation quieting as they neared the Tower. The trees seemed to loom closer as if the forest was reluctant to release them. The wind picked up again, carrying with it strange, unidentifiable noises that sent shivers down Abel¡¯s spine. The forest was filled with odd flickers of light in the distance, ghostly and pale, but none dared comment on them. Shadows danced and flickered, their movements unnatural, as if the forest itself was alive with secrets.


    The sight of the Tower¡¯s faint glow in the distance was a relief, and as they broke through the edge of the forest, Abel felt the weight of the woods lift ever so slightly from his shoulders. The others seemed to relax too, their steps quickening as the towering stone structure came into view, a beacon of safety.


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    Gravedigger¡¯s mood was buoyant despite the eerie atmosphere. As they reached the Tower¡¯s entrance, he immediately called out to Glandel, his voice echoing in the stillness. Glandel emerged from the task office, his face impassive as always, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes when he saw the group return.


    Gravedigger stepped forward, addressing him formally. "I seek an audience with the Faculty Overseer," he said, his tone respectful but confident. "I¡¯m ready for my promotion to Apostle."


    Glandel¡¯s gaze sharpened as he looked Gravedigger over, clearly assessing him. After a moment of silence, he gave a single nod. "Very well," he said, his voice low. He reached for his badge, the smooth metal glowing faintly as he touched it. A subtle pulse of light spread from the badge, a signal to the higher-ups.


    As this happened, a few recruits from other rooms had gathered at the top of the stairs, drawn by the commotion. Their eyes gleamed with curiosity and awe as they peered down at Gravedigger and the group. Abel shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, feeling the sudden pressure of being in the spotlight. He moved to the side, slipping into the shadows, hoping to avoid the attention. He preferred to remain unnoticed, especially now.


    The Faculty Overseer would be arriving soon, and the atmosphere in the hall grew tense as everyone waited for what would come next.


    As the soft glow from Glandel''s badge faded, the air in the main hall grew thick with anticipation. The recruits above, their faces half-hidden in the shadows of the staircase, leaned in closer to see what was happening. Whispers floated through the air, growing louder as the seconds passed.


    Gravedigger stood tall, his demeanor calm yet filled with a quiet triumph. The bone strapped to his back still hummed faintly with the lingering power of the ritual, and his eyes seemed to gleam with a newfound confidence. It was clear to everyone that something fundamental had changed within him.


    Glandel, however, couldn''t mask his surprise. His dark eyes studied Gravedigger carefully, the flicker of disbelief crossing his usually stoic face. Of all the recruits who had passed through the Tower''s doors, Gravedigger was not one he had expected to rise to such heights. Glandel had seen many like him¡ªquiet, unassuming, lacking the natural charisma or raw power that often marked a future Apostle. In fact, Glandel had pegged Gravedigger as one of the recruits who would likely fade into obscurity or, worse, perish on one of the many dangerous missions the Tower offered.


    But now, as he stood before Glandel, there was no mistaking the shift in his presence. He had survived, thrived even, where others had faltered. And the bone strapped to his back¡ªan ancient relic that now pulsed with a strange, arcane energy¡ªwas proof enough that Gravedigger had found his own path. He had not only endured but also uncovered a rare power that was both unique and formidable.


    Gravedigger¡¯s success stood as a quiet reminder to Glandel that even the most unassuming recruits could defy expectations, especially in a world as unpredictable as the one surrounding the Stone Tower. The magic that flowed through the land had a way of choosing its champions, often from those least expected.


    With a subtle shake of his head, Glandel stepped forward, his expression softening ever so slightly. "You¡¯ve surprised me," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "I didn''t think you¡¯d last long enough to see this day, Gravedigger. But here you are, standing on the brink of becoming an Apostle."


    Gravedigger gave a small, respectful nod, but there was a fire in his eyes that spoke of determination and quiet pride. He had earned this moment.


    The tension in the room thickened as the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. The Faculty Overseer was arriving, their presence carrying the weight of authority and judgment. Glandel stepped back, his gaze lingering on Gravedigger for just a moment longer before turning toward the approaching figure.


    The recruits above, who had been eagerly watching, now buzzed with whispers. Gravedigger¡¯s ascension was not just a personal victory¡ªit was a moment of inspiration, a reminder that even those who seemed destined to fade could rise with the right spark.


    Abel, still tucked away in the shadows, observed it all in silence. There was a strange sense of admiration swelling inside him. He had always known that the journey to become an Apostle was filled with trials, but watching Gravedigger¡ªsomeone who had been seen as a likely failure¡ªstand at the edge of such an achievement reminded Abel that the path ahead wasn¡¯t reserved for the most obvious candidates. It was open to anyone with the grit and resourcefulness to seize it.


    The Faculty Overseer¡¯s arrival would mark the next stage of Gravedigger¡¯s journey, but for Abel, it was a chance to reflect on his own. The power, the knowledge, the strange mysteries of the Tower¡ªall of it seemed closer than ever, and yet still veiled in shadow.

 Chapter 28: Becoming an Apostle

    Chapter 28: Becoming an Apostle


    The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, silencing the whispers of the recruits and bringing a palpable tension to the air. The Faculty Overseer entered the room, his presence casting a long shadow across the stone floor. A man of considerable height, draped in a red robe that shimmered faintly with symbols of power, he exuded an authority that made even Glandel stand a little straighter. His mere arrival felt like a shift in the atmosphere, as though the room itself was holding its breath in anticipation.


    Abel, still tucked away to the side, felt his chest tighten as he watched the Overseer approach. Something was unsettling about the man¡¯s calm demeanor, as though he carried the weight of secrets too heavy for mortal minds. His face was mostly obscured by the hood of his robe, but Abel caught glimpses of the sharp glint of his eyes as they methodically scanned the room. The tension among the recruits was thick, and Abel could feel the unease ripple through the crowd as the Overseer¡¯s gaze passed over them.


    The Overseer stopped in front of Gravedigger, whose face remained impassive despite the thick tension. The recruits¡¯ eyes were wide, fixed on the strange bone protruding from the bag strapped to Gravedigger¡¯s back which occasionally glowed in a faint ghastly light. Many had never seen anything like it, and the sight of it, combined with the gravity of the moment, sent whispers surging through the crowd. They could feel the pressure of something ancient lingering in the air, a weight that bore down on them like a storm on the horizon.


    For a long moment, the Overseer and Gravedigger stood in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Then, the Overseer¡¯s voice cut through the silence, low and commanding, a sound that made every recruit in the room shiver.


    "You¡¯ve summoned me to witness your ascension, Gravedigger?" the Overseer asked, his tone carrying an authority that made the room feel even smaller, as though it was shrinking under the weight of his presence.


    Gravedigger nodded respectfully, the ancient bone strapped to his back vibrating softly with residual power from the ritual. "I¡¯ve completed the ritual and am ready for the Tower¡¯s judgment," he replied, his voice steady, though those closest to him could detect a faint edge of nervousness.


    The Overseer¡¯s sharp eyes lingered on the relic for a moment, a flicker of interest flashing across his otherwise stoic face. He raised a hand, and the bone on Gravedigger¡¯s back responded, humming with a deeper resonance. The power within it stirred the air, sending a cold ripple through the room. Abel felt it in his bones¡ªa deep, unsettling vibration that resonated with something primal and far beyond his understanding.


    "An ancient relic," the Overseer mused, his fingers hovering just inches above the bone. "You¡¯ve chosen a dangerous path, Gravedigger. These bones are not to be trifled with lightly."


    Abel could feel the collective breath of the room hitch, as if everyone present realized the magnitude of what was happening. It wasn¡¯t just the ritual or the relic¡ªit was the culmination of Gravedigger¡¯s path, a journey that now carried a tangible sense of danger and power. The other recruits exchanged uneasy glances, some unable to fully comprehend what they were witnessing, but all of them could feel the raw, untamed force radiating from the bone.


    "I¡¯ve done what was necessary," Gravedigger replied, his voice resolute, though his hands tightened slightly at his sides. "The mana within this relic guided me, and now I am ready to become an Apostle."


    The Overseer¡¯s expression remained unreadable, his hand hovering over the bone for a moment longer before withdrawing. The tension in the air eased, though only slightly.


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    "Very well," the Overseer said, his voice even. "The Tower will now decide your fate."


    With a flick of his wrist, the Overseer traced an intricate symbol in the air¡ªan ethereal pattern of glowing lines that formed into a sigil hovering between his fingers. He pressed the sigil against Gravedigger¡¯s chest, and for a moment, nothing happened. The room held its breath.


    Then, without warning, the air around Gravedigger warped and shifted, as though reality itself was bending to accommodate the surge of power. The relic on his back vibrated violently, its mana intertwining with his own in a swirling storm of energy. Gravedigger¡¯s body tensed, and a faint glow emerged from beneath his skin, illuminating his veins in a way that made him appear almost ghastly and ashen. The power surged outward, rolling off him in waves that made the recruits flinch and recoil. Abel could feel the immense pressure¡ªthe weight of Gravedigger¡¯s mana pool forming, like a whirlpool pulling everything into its orbit.


    Small bones began to protrude on Gravedigger''s temples, curving downward in an almost grotesque display. His appearance changed before their eyes, no longer just a man but something fused with the ancient power of the bone. It was like the relic had become part of him, a living extension of his will and essence.


    The pressure in the room intensified, and Abel could see the strain on the faces of the other recruits. Some gripped the arms of their chairs, others stared wide-eyed, mouths slightly agape as the realization dawned on them: Gravedigger, a non-gifted, was ascending. The fact that he was not naturally born with the ability to manipulate mana like the gifted made this all the more shocking, and for many, inspiring. If someone like Gravedigger could achieve this, then perhaps they, too, had a chance.


    Abel¡¯s thoughts raced. He felt a strange mixture of awe and envy¡ªhere was proof that the path of a non-gifted was not a dead end, but it was clearly not a path without its dangers. The power swirling around Gravedigger was both beautiful and terrifying, a reminder that the line between success and catastrophe was razor-thin.


    A soft gasp rippled through the recruits as Gravedigger¡¯s eyes snapped open, now glowing faintly with a strange, otherworldly light. He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing as the transformation solidified. The bone relic on his back had become something more, a physical manifestation of the power he now commanded.


    "Your connection to the ancient bone has been accepted," the Overseer said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "You are now an Apostle of the Stone Tower."


    The room erupted into murmurs of awe and disbelief. Abel could feel the energy in the room shift¡ªa mix of respect, fear, and inspiration. For the non-gifted recruits, Gravedigger¡¯s ascension was a beacon of hope, a testament that even they could rise through the Tower¡¯s ranks. Yet there was also a recognition of the price paid for such power. Gravedigger''s chosen path was unique, but it was fraught with danger, as the Overseer had warned.


    "You¡¯ve defied expectations, Gravedigger," Glandel said, his gruff voice cutting through the murmurs, his expression a mixture of surprise and grudging respect. "I didn¡¯t think you would make it this far."


    Gravedigger met Glandel¡¯s gaze with quiet confidence. "I¡¯ve always had my own path," he replied. His voice was steady, but the weight of what he had accomplished was clear in his tone. He had survived the ritual, and now the power was his.


    The Overseer, satisfied with the results, gave a final nod. "You may now ascend the Tower and claim your place as an Apostle," he said. "But be warned¡ªthe power you wield is not without its dangers. Master it, or it will master you."


    Gravedigger bowed respectfully, his expression calm but resolute. Without another word, he turned toward one of the halls. The recruits parted as he passed, some whispering congratulations, others still too stunned to speak. Abel watched as Gravedigger made his way toward the other entrance reserved for Apostles¡ªan entrance not used by recruits. It led directly to the fourth floor, bypassing the grand stairwell the rest of them were required to use. Although, apostle could use the main tair if they so choose.


    Abel let out a slow breath as the Overseer turned and left the hall, his robes whispering against the stone floor. The room buzzed with excitement and tension, but Abel¡¯s mind was elsewhere. He had just witnessed something monumental, something that made the path to becoming an Apostle seem more real, and more dangerous, than ever before.

 Chapter 29: Echoes of Danger

    Chapter 29: Echoes of Danger


    Abel went up the winding staircase back to his room, his thoughts heavy with the events of the night. Glandel had dismissed the other recruits, leaving the tower¡¯s halls quieter than usual. The eerie moonlight filtering through the stone lattice windows cast long, pale shadows across the walls, giving the familiar surroundings a strange, unsettling feel. It was as if the silence of the tower held something deeper¡ªa warning, or perhaps a reminder of what lay beyond its walls.


    When Abel reached his door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. The day had been intense, and his mind buzzed with new information. He closed the door softly behind him and let out a long sigh, the weight of it all pressing down on him. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the flickering light of the lantern that bathed the room in a dim, orange glow. The soft crackle of the flame was the only sound, filling the space with a quiet warmth that was almost comforting.


    Abel¡¯s thoughts drifted back to Gravedigger¡¯s breakthrough¡ªthe raw power of the ancient bone glowing with untapped energy. The image replayed in his mind, over and over. Gravedigger had succeeded where others had failed, using the relic to gather mana and create a mana pool, a feat not easily accomplished by any recruit. The process had been dangerous, yet Gravedigger had walked that razor¡¯s edge and come out victorious.


    Gravedigger had shared crucial information during the ritual, revealing more about the process¡ªdetails about concentrating mana and using a stimulant to propel the breakthrough. It was something Abel had heard before. His own Knowledge Book from those first few weeks had hinted at similar methods: the importance of inscriptions, magical beast blood, and the concept of "uniqueness" to gather and channel mana.


    But without the book in his possession, Abel was left to rely on fragmented memories. His understanding was incomplete, and if he wanted to move forward on his path, he needed more information. His mind turned toward the one place that might have the answers: Marcella¡¯s library. Tomorrow, during his next shift, he would delve deeper into the archives, searching for any texts that might help him unlock the mysteries of mana concentration and inscription work.


    As he mulled over his thoughts, a soft knock broke the silence. Abel blinked, momentarily pulled from his reverie. Another knock followed, more insistent this time. He stood and opened the door to find the other members of Room Eighty gathered outside¡ªSena, Isabella, and Nando. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and concern, their eyes reflecting the flickering light from the lantern in the hall.


    Sena, always the first to speak, stepped into the room with a questioning look. ¡°How did it go?¡± he asked, his voice quiet but urgent. ¡°Did Gravedigger succeed?¡±


    Abel leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as the others filed in behind Sena. The room suddenly felt smaller, their presence bringing a sense of shared anticipation. "Yeah, he did," Abel replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions still swirling inside him. "The ritual worked. He used an ancient bone¡ªsomething powerful¡ªto gather mana and create a mana pool. That¡¯s how he broke through to become an Apostle."


    Isabella¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°That sounds¡­ intense. And risky. I¡¯ve never heard of anyone using bones in a ritual like that.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± Abel agreed. ¡°But Gravedigger had a specific goal¡ªhe wanted to fuse the power of bones into his abilities. It was dangerous, but it worked. The bone wasn¡¯t just a tool; it was part of the process, part of him.¡±


    Sena¡¯s eyes widened as he leaned forward, intrigued. ¡°So, he created a mana pool by using the bone as a catalyst? That¡¯s¡­ incredible. And terrifying.¡±


    Nando, who had been quiet up until now, shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Did he say anything else about how it works? Something we could use?¡± His voice was lower than usual, but there was a clear hunger for knowledge in his tone.


    Abel¡¯s gaze flicked to Nando. He recalled Gravedigger¡¯s words clearly. "He mentioned that becoming an Apostle isn¡¯t just about gathering mana¡ªyou have to concentrate it within yourself. Sometimes, though, you need a catalyst to spark the process. In Gravedigger¡¯s case, it was the ancient bone. But it could be other things too¡ªlike magical beast blood or something unique to your path."


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    The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of Abel¡¯s words sinking in. Sena leaned against the wall, his face thoughtful. "The Knowledge Book we had said something similar," he murmured. "That gathering mana is personal¡ªdifferent for everyone. It makes sense that the process isn¡¯t one-size-fits-all."


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Abel replied, nodding. ¡°Each person¡¯s path is different, but it¡¯s all about finding the right catalyst.¡±


    For a moment, the room was filled only with the soft sounds of their breathing and the distant echoes of the tower. The seriousness of Gravedigger¡¯s achievement had affected them all. It was proof that even a non-gifted recruit could rise to the rank of Apostle if they were determined enough¡ªand willing to take enormous risks.


    The conversation shifted as Nando¡¯s expression grew darker. He cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice. ¡°Did you hear about Erin?¡±


    Abel frowned, unfamiliar with the name. ¡°Erin? Who¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°The chubby guy from our class,¡± Nando replied, his voice tinged with unease. ¡°He went out on a gathering task recently¡­ and didn¡¯t come back. They say he was taken by a Nightcrawler.¡±


    Sena gasped, his face paling at the mention of the creature. ¡°A Nightcrawler?¡±


    Abel¡¯s stomach twisted. He had heard of Nightcrawlers before¡ªdark, twisted creatures that stalked the forest under the cover of night, preying on the unwary. They were known for their speed and ability to vanish into the shadows, leaving behind little more than the whispers of their victims. The thought of encountering one in the wild sent a chill down his spine.


    Isabella, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up, her voice heavy with the weight of the news. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ horrible. I didn¡¯t know Erin well, but no one deserves that.¡±


    The room grew tense as they absorbed the grim reality of the tower¡¯s dangers. Each of them understood the risks that came with living and training here, but hearing about someone their age¡ªsomeone who had sat in the same classes as them¡ªbeing taken by a Nightcrawler brought that danger closer to home. The fear was no longer a distant concept; it was real, tangible, and terrifying.


    ¡°It¡¯s a reminder,¡± Sena said softly, his eyes dark with worry. ¡°No one is safe.¡±


    The silence that followed his words was thick, and heavy with unspoken fears. Abel felt the weight of it pressing down on him. The danger outside the tower¡¯s walls was far greater than he had ever imagined. It wasn¡¯t just magical beasts or rival recruits; it was creatures like Nightcrawlers¡ªbeings born from nightmares that stalked the darkness, unseen and lethal.


    Isabella, sensing the mood in the room, shifted uncomfortably. "I heard another rumor today," she added hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Some recruits who ventured too far to the north have been seeing¡­ strange lights that would sing alluring melodies in the sky. No one knows what they are, but a few recruits have come back talking about it. They say it¡¯s best to avoid that area, especially at night."


    Nando raised an eyebrow. "Strange lights? Like magic?"


    Sena shrugged. "Maybe. Or something worse. No one¡¯s sure, but I overheard some recruits talking about it in the hall. They seemed spooked. Whatever it is, I¡¯m not eager to find out."


    Isabella nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. ¡°Could be anything. The Stone Forest is full of mysteries, and the north isn¡¯t exactly the safest place to wander.¡±


    The conversation tapered off as the weight of these new rumors settled in the room. The idea of unknown forces at play¡ªstrange lights in the sky, mysterious creatures lurking in the dark¡ªonly added to the growing tension that seemed to hang over the tower like a dark cloud.


    After a few more murmured conversations, the members of Room Eighty began to file out, each lost in their thoughts. Abel watched them leave, his mind still racing as the door closed softly behind Nando, the last to go. The silence in his room felt heavier than before, almost oppressive in the wake of everything he had learned.


    Abel lay back on his bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. Erin¡¯s fate, the bone ritual, the Nightcrawlers, and now rumors of strange lights in the north¡ªall of it swirled in his mind, a chaotic mix of fear, curiosity, and determination. The world outside the tower was far more dangerous than he had ever realized, and the path to becoming an Apostle seemed more mysterious and perilous than ever.


    As sleep slowly overtook him, Abel made a silent promise to himself¡ªto learn everything he could. The next time he ventured beyond the tower¡¯s protection, he wouldn¡¯t be caught off guard. No matter what lay ahead, he would be ready.


    With that, he drifted into a restless sleep, the shadows of the Stone Tower stretching long into the night.

 Chapter 30: Idle Days in the Tower

    Chapter 30: Idle Days in the Tower


    The sun hung high in the sky, casting its warm light through the towering, arched windows of the gifted recruits'' common area. The room was grand, with high ceilings supported by intricate stone pillars, their surfaces etched with magical runes that softly pulsed, giving the space an otherworldly glow. The large windows framed a view of the Tower¡¯s grounds, where the vast expanse of the surrounding forest stretched out toward the horizon, the tops of the trees swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.


    Ronald leaned back in his cushioned chair, upholstered in soft, dark fabric that contrasted with the cold, polished stone beneath his feet. The air in the common area was light, tinged with the scent of freshly brewed tea and the faint hum of distant conversations. A few other gifted recruits lounged around the room, their voices blending into the background, while others sat alone, lost in their studies or daydreams. Today was another free day¡ªno classes, no tasks, and no obligations. As gifted recruits, there was little pressure to do anything beyond honing their natural abilities. The freedom felt luxurious, but at times, it was a reminder of the subtle distance growing between him and those who weren¡¯t as fortunate.


    Across from him sat Edmund, the ever-cocky and brash recruit. He absentmindedly caressed a small glass bottle with a wooden cork, the strange, gaseous liquid inside swirling lazily like a storm trapped in a jar. The light from the window hit the bottle just right, causing the liquid to shimmer in shades of amber and gold. Nearby, Tina perched on the edge of her seat, swirling a cup of tea in her hands, the gentle clink of ceramic breaking the silence.


    ¡°You know,¡± Edmund started, turning the glass bottle between his fingers, ¡°being a gifted here is so much better than being an aristocrat out in the mundane world. Think about it¡ªfree room, free meals, and we get to learn magic that makes us more powerful than any noble could dream of.¡± He grinned, holding the bottle up as the light refracted through the swirling liquid. ¡°Even the nobles with all their wealth can¡¯t touch this.¡±


    Tina laughed softly, nodding in agreement as she leaned back in her chair. ¡°It¡¯s true. Knowing magic puts us on a different level. We¡¯re above normal people. Even the non-gifted recruits here, as much as they struggle, will never reach where we are.¡± Her words were light, but there was a certain edge to them, a casual dismissal that made Ronald¡¯s stomach twist slightly. He shifted in his seat, glancing around the room as if searching for something to distract him from the discomfort settling in his chest. He felt like a hypocrite for being with these people, however, the world had blessed him with this gift, should he really be ashamed?


    The gifted had their own floor in the Stone Tower¡ªa private, privileged space far from the more crowded quarters of the non-gifted recruits. The common area, with its expansive view and elegant furnishings, was a constant reminder of the divide between the two groups. While the non-gifted recruits scrambled for contribution points, fighting for progress and survival, the gifted were free to focus on learning, developing, and choosing their paths. Everything was provided for them, from meals to access to rare materials and texts. It was a life of luxury compared to the hustle and strain of the non-gifted, and Ronald couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of that disparity.


    He thought back to his earlier days before his magical potential had been recognized. Back then, he¡¯d had friends among the non-gifted, people he had shared stories, dreams, and laughs with. But since joining the ranks of the gifted, the unspoken rule had become clear¡ªdon¡¯t mingle with the non-gifted unless necessary. It wasn¡¯t official, but it was there, an unspoken boundary reinforced by the other gifted of the Tower. Ronald hadn¡¯t seen his old friends in some time. He often wondered what they were up to, and how they were managing, but shame held him back from seeking them out. His status, his new life, separated him from them now, and the guilt of it gnawed at him in quiet moments like this. But the guilt would often turn into anger as he believed just feeling this way because he was gifted was unfair and something he shouldn''t be proud of. He would often think; I''ve had friends that were left behind, I can''t be brought down with those meant to die on the inner perimeter trying to learn about mana, whilst I''m meant for greatness blessed by the world itself.


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    ¡°I feel like I¡¯m getting close to sensing mana,¡± Tina¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts, filled with excitement. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing the meditations, and I can almost feel it... like a distant hum beneath everything.¡±


    Edmund smirked, rolling the strange bottle between his hands. ¡°I¡¯ve sensed flickers of it,¡± he said, his tone cocky but casual. ¡°Not much, just hints. It''s always just out of reach, though¡ªlike trying to grab something through a fog.¡±


    Tina¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯ve actually sensed it?¡± she asked, clearly impressed.


    Ronald leaned forward slightly, intrigued. ¡°What did it feel like?¡±


    Edmund grinned, clearly relishing the attention. ¡°Warm. It¡¯s hard to describe, but I¡¯d say it felt like an orange glow, just out of reach. It was there for a second, and then¡­ gone.¡±


    Ronald nodded, his mind turning. ¡°That makes sense,¡± he said. ¡°What you sense is tied to your affinity. With your fire affinity, it¡¯s not surprising that you¡¯d experience something warm and orange. For someone with a water affinity, it might feel cooler or softer, like a blue current.¡±


    Edmund tilted his head thoughtfully, his fingers absently caressing the cork of the strange glass bottle in his hand. ¡°So, because you¡¯ve got a water affinity, you should be expecting something blue and calm, right?¡±


    Ronald shrugged. ¡°Something like that. Each affinity manifests differently, but we won¡¯t know for sure until we can actually control mana.¡±


    Tina chimed in, her eyes alight with curiosity. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about my earth affinity lately,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s this recruit, Tobias. He¡¯s been using his wind affinity to create wind daggers and even lighten his body to move faster. He¡¯s becoming a real stealthy type. I was thinking about focusing my path on something similar, but using earth¡ªenhancing my strength, endurance, maybe even fortifying my body.¡±


    Edmund¡¯s eyebrows rose in interest. ¡°That Tobias guy, yeah, I¡¯ve heard about him. He¡¯s on his way to something big. As for me,¡± he said, tapping the glass bottle lightly, ¡°I¡¯m doing some research on flame familiars. That¡¯s the path I want to take. Once I can sense mana properly, I¡¯m hoping to shape it into something alive¡ªsomething that can fight alongside me.¡±


    Tina smiled. ¡°That¡¯s interesting. I¡¯ve been inspired by Tobias too. I think focusing on enhancing my body is the way to go, especially with an earth affinity. It just makes sense.¡±


    Ronald nodded along with the conversation, but inside, he felt a growing unease. Edmund and Tina were so confident in their paths, so sure of what they wanted to pursue. But for him, the path forward wasn¡¯t so clear. He knew he had an affinity for water, but the exact direction he wanted to take remained elusive. Should he focus on healing, like some of the older gifted recruits? Or should he pursue something more offensive, like Edmund¡¯s desire for a flame familiar? The options swirled in his mind, but none felt quite right.


    Just as he was about to voice his uncertainty, a voice called from the side. Another gifted recruit appeared, a tall boy with a sly smile and an easy air of confidence. He waved them over with a beckoning hand.


    ¡°Hey, we¡¯ve got some games going on in my room,¡± he said casually. ¡°You guys in?¡±


    Edmund sat up, his face lighting up with interest. ¡°Games? Sounds like fun,¡± he said, standing and pocketing the bottle. ¡°I could use a break.¡±


    Tina grinned and set her tea aside. ¡°I¡¯m in.¡±


    Ronald hesitated for a moment, his earlier thoughts of uncertainty still lingering. But as Edmund and Tina moved toward the door, laughing and chatting about which games to play, he decided to let his concerns fade for the time being. There would be plenty of time to figure out his path, but for now, a distraction didn¡¯t seem so bad.


    With a small smile, Ronald stood and followed the others out of the common area. As they passed through the grand stone arches leading to the hallway, the laughter of the gifted recruits echoed softly, their voices blending into the quiet hum of the Tower. For now, the weight of future decisions could wait.

 Chapter 31: Library Comes to Life

    Chapter 31: Library Comes to Life


    The morning sun filtered through the small window of Abel¡¯s room, casting a soft, golden light on the wooden floor. He stirred awake, feeling the stillness of the day. No class was scheduled, giving him ample time to focus on other matters. Today, his agenda was simple: head to the library early for his daily task and, hopefully, gather more information about uniqueness, mana accumulation, and the use of magical entities as catalysts.


    After freshening up, Abel left his room and made his way down the winding hallways of the Stone Tower. The air was unusually quiet today, the usual bustling of recruits preparing for their tasks noticeably absent. It gave the Tower an eerie sense of calm, as if it was holding its breath.


    As Abel walked, he mentally recapped his goal for the day¡ªuncovering more about what made the creatures around the Tower unique, and more importantly, how that knowledge could aid his path toward becoming an Apostle.


    Reaching the library, he was greeted by the familiar smell of aged paper and dust. Marcella stood at her usual spot, a serene expression on her face as she attended to some of the magical books that floated lazily nearby. She glanced up and smiled warmly when she saw Abel.


    ¡°Morning, Abel,¡± she said in her usual calm, motherly tone. ¡°For today, I need you to take a look at the underground section. Things have become a bit¡­ disorganized down there. After that, just continue as usual.¡±


    Abel nodded, slightly apprehensive. The underground section of the library had always given him a strange feeling, but he pushed the thought aside. He knew Marcella wouldn¡¯t send him somewhere unsafe¡ªat least, not without warning him first.


    As Abel descended the narrow staircase into the underground section of the library, the air grew cooler and carried a weight of ancient knowledge. The faint light from the torches along the walls flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed almost alive. The creaking of the wooden floor above was barely audible down here, and every step felt heavier, as though the stone beneath him was soaking in the sound of his movements.


    The underground section of the library was vast, and its shelves were taller and more densely packed than those above. A strange, musty scent hung in the air, mingling with the scent of old parchment. Abel had been here once before during his previous task, but he had never spent much time in these forgotten corners.


    He began his work, organizing the books, many of which looked like they hadn''t been touched in years. Their leather covers were cracked, and some of them had titles written in languages he didn¡¯t recognize. There was something different about the books here¡ªan energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He couldn''t quite place it, but something about this place felt... alive.


    As Abel worked his way down the long aisle of shelves, something caught his attention. There was a faint rustling sound coming from one of the upper shelves, like the sound of paper fluttering in the wind. Abel paused, eyes narrowing as he scanned the rows of books above him. One book seemed to be sticking out slightly, as though it had been placed there haphazardly. Its spine was a deep, shimmering black, and faint symbols glowed along its cover.


    Curious, Abel reached up and pushed the book back into place. But the moment his hand touched the spine, the air around him shifted. A sudden, soft wind blew through the underground section, despite there being no windows or open doors. The torches flickered violently, casting erratic shadows across the stone floor.


    Then, without warning, the book clicked open with a soft thud, releasing a faint, inky mist from its pages. The mist swirled and danced in the air, quickly taking the shape of shadowy figures. Abel stepped back, his heart pounding as the figures multiplied, forming long, flowing silhouettes. They hovered for a moment, seeming to observe him with invisible eyes, their forms shifting and undulating like smoke.


    For a moment, Abel was frozen in place, unsure of what to do. The shadows didn¡¯t seem aggressive, nor did they make any sound. They merely floated, watching him in silence, their formless bodies flickering like shadows cast by firelight.


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    And then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the shadows dispersed. They shot across the room, merging with the darkness between the shelves, slipping into the narrow spaces and corners that Abel couldn¡¯t reach. He spun around, trying to follow their movements, but they moved too fast¡ªdarting through the air like swift phantoms. Within seconds, they were gone, swallowed by the deep shadows of the underground library.


    Abel stood there for a moment, his breath shallow as he tried to process what had just happened. There was no sign of the book or the strange mist anymore. Everything appeared exactly as it had been, save for the lingering feeling that the air was now somehow... different.


    The only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the torches. Whatever had happened, it didn¡¯t seem to be a threat¡ªjust an odd, otherworldly occurrence that left him feeling both awed and unsettled. The shadows were harmless, but their sudden appearance had reminded Abel that the magic of the Tower was unpredictable, even when it wasn¡¯t dangerous.


    Abel shook his head, trying to rid himself of the unease that lingered in his chest. He knew the Tower held secrets far beyond his understanding, but something about the way those shadows had disappeared made him wonder if they were watching him¡ªor if they had simply been released from their long slumber.


    He took a deep breath and continued his task, though the eerie stillness of the underground section now seemed to press down on him even harder.


    He got to the regular work on the first floor, quietly reorganizing the books. As he did, he couldn¡¯t help but think of Gravedigger¡¯s words from the night before¡ªabout concentrating mana within oneself, or using a powerful stimulant to spark the breakthrough into becoming an Apostle. Gravedigger had used an ancient magical bone for his ritual, which had given Abel an idea¡ªperhaps the secret to his own path lay within the creatures and magical entities mentioned in his knowledge book. If only he could understand how to channel their power¡­


    Just as Abel was shelving a particularly large tome, he overheard two recruits talking a few shelves away. He paused, listening carefully.


    ¡°¡­the trade happening tomorrow on the first floor,¡± one of them said in a hushed tone. ¡°I heard it¡¯s going to be huge. Everyone¡¯s bringing something. Artifacts, creature parts, even books.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m definitely going,¡± the other replied. ¡°Who knows what we could find there?¡±


    Abel made a mental note to attend. If magical items or creature parts were going to be traded, it might offer a chance to acquire something valuable for his studies¡ªor even a piece that could help him with his breakthrough.


    Finishing his task in the underground section, Abel returned to the main library. He found Marcella still attending to her floating books, her calm demeanor unwavering. Approaching her, he hesitated for a moment before speaking.


    ¡°Marcella, is there a section in the library that talks about creatures and their uniqueness? Specifically, how they use mana or how we might use them as catalysts?¡±


    Marcella¡¯s brow furrowed thoughtfully for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ll want to check the Bestiary section,¡± she said after a pause. ¡°There¡¯s a particular set of volumes on magical creatures that may have what you¡¯re looking for. Just be cautious. Those books have a habit of changing their order when you¡¯re not looking.¡±


    Abel nodded, giving her a grateful smile. He navigated through the twisting shelves until he found the Bestiary section. It was a vast collection, filled with knowledge on various magical creatures¡ªsome Abel had heard of, and others that seemed straight out of a nightmare. He browsed through several volumes, pausing at entries on creatures like giant spiders with venom that could dissolve steel, or flying serpents whose wings emitted a strange hum that could entrance their prey.


    Finally, after flipping through several more pages, he found a small section that mentioned uniqueness. The passage described uniqueness as the point where a creature¡¯s mana was most concentrated¡ªthe core of its power. In many cases, it was a physical part of the creature¡¯s body, such as a fang, a bone, or a piece of its hide. The more potent the creature, the more powerful its uniqueness, and in some rare cases, this part could be used to fuel magical rituals or enhance a person¡¯s mana.


    Abel¡¯s pulse quickened as he read further. This was the piece of the puzzle he had been missing. Gravedigger had used the ancient bone¡¯s uniqueness to achieve his breakthrough¡ªcould Abel do the same with another creature¡¯s essence?


    Satisfied with what he had learned, Abel carefully closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. He couldn¡¯t shake the excitement bubbling inside him, but he knew there was more to uncover. Tomorrow, at the trade, he might be able to find something¡ªor someone¡ªthat could further his understanding.


    As he left the library, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the stone floor of the Tower. He made his way back to his room, thoughts racing. Tomorrow¡¯s trade could hold the key to his next steps, and he was determined not to miss it.

 Chapter 32: Segregation

    Chapter 32: Segregation


    The morning had passed quietly for Abel, as it often did on his days in the library. There was a certain comfort in his routine¡ªgreeting Marcella, organizing the shelves, and disappearing into the maze of knowledge. His task today was simple, as usual, and the underground section hadn''t held any surprises since that eerie incident with the shadows. After completing his shift, Abel thanked Marcella, and she gave him her usual nod of approval. It was time for him to explore something new.


    Abel had been looking forward to the trade ever since he overheard two recruits talking about it in the library. He had been saving up his contribution points and wanted to find something that would help him with his inscriptions¡ªmaybe a feather from a magical creature or more information on creatures that could aid his breakthrough. The anticipation buzzed inside him as he made his way toward the first floor, where the trade was taking place.


    As Abel entered the main hall, the atmosphere felt charged. Groups of recruits gathered in clusters, talking in low voices, their eyes darting to the various items being traded. Stalls were set up in the corners of the room, and tables were covered in a range of rare and valuable objects: magical trinkets, enchanted weapons, and alchemical ingredients.


    But something was off.


    Abel immediately noticed how the room was divided. Near the center of the hall, gifted recruits clustered together, their robes shimmering with intricate embroidery, their laughter louder and more carefree. Around the edges of the room, where the light didn¡¯t reach as well, non-gifted recruits like Abel lingered, glancing warily at the central stalls, but few dared approach.


    There was a silent exclusion at play. It wasn¡¯t official, but it was obvious¡ªthe gifted dominated the main trade area, and the non-gifted were kept to the outskirts, ignored or dismissed before they even tried to participate. Abel hesitated, feeling the invisible wall between the groups, but he shook off the unease and decided to push through.


    He wandered closer to one of the central stalls, eyes locked on a gleaming feather that caught his attention. As he neared, the conversations around him quieted, and he felt the weight of eyes turning toward him. The stall was manned by a tall recruit with a regal air, his silver-embroidered robes glinting in the dim light. Abel could sense the subtle shift in the atmosphere¡ªthis was a gifted recruit, and the disdain was palpable before a word was even spoken.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t for you,¡± the recruit said coldly, his voice cutting through the brief silence like a blade. His eyes raked over Abel, from his plain robes to the hesitant way he approached.


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    Abel blinked, caught off guard by the hostility. ¡°I have the contribution points¡ª¡± he began, trying to keep his voice steady.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about points,¡± the recruit interrupted, leaning in with a smirk that made Abel¡¯s stomach twist. ¡°It¡¯s about who you are. Don¡¯t waste your time.¡± The words were sharp, laced with the kind of condescension that made it clear Abel was beneath even considering as a customer.


    A few of the surrounding gifted recruits laughed softly, exchanging amused glances as if Abel¡¯s presence was a joke. The silence that followed only heightened Abel¡¯s discomfort. The recruit at the stall didn¡¯t move, his posture still casual, but his eyes were like cold steel¡ªhe wasn¡¯t going to entertain the idea of trading with someone like Abel.


    Abel¡¯s hand froze halfway to the feather. The air around him felt heavy with judgment, and he realized all too quickly that the trade wasn¡¯t just about contribution points. It was about status¡ªabout whether you were worth their time. The gifted recruits had made it clear that he wasn¡¯t.


    His heart sank, but he quickly withdrew his hand, trying to hide the frustration building inside him. Without a word, Abel turned and moved to another stall. As he passed, he could feel their eyes still on him, their low voices and stifled laughter echoing behind him.


    At another table, Abel spotted a vial of glowing liquid that looked promising. He stepped closer, but before he could ask about it, the recruit behind this stall¡ªher deep green robes similarly embroidered¡ªgave him the same look of disdain. Her eyes scanned him briefly, and she shook her head with a haughty smile.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, her tone clipped and dismissive. ¡°We¡¯re only trading with those who actually belong here.¡±


    Abel clenched his jaw. The rejection wasn¡¯t just personal¡ªit was systemic. The gifted recruits, with their shimmering robes and superior attitudes, had carved out an exclusive space, one where non-gifted recruits were simply not welcome. His presence wasn¡¯t just ignored; it was actively rejected, and the weight of that realization settled like a stone in his chest.


    As Abel moved away from the second stall, his gaze landed on a familiar face¡ªRonald, standing near the edge of the room, observing the scene with an unreadable expression. For a moment, Abel felt a flicker of hope. Ronald had been in Room Eighty with him before the division between gifted and non-gifted had widened. Maybe he¡¯d offer a nod, a small gesture of solidarity in this moment of rejection.


    But as their eyes met, Ronald quickly glanced away, turning his attention back to the group of gifted recruits he stood with. The silent dismissal hit harder than Abel expected, and his stomach twisted. Whatever connection they¡¯d once had was gone, replaced by the cold reality of the divide between gifted and non-gifted.


    Abel swallowed his frustration and made his way toward the exit. The sting of rejection clung to him, but as he stepped out of the hall, the cool air of the Tower¡¯s corridors brought a sense of clarity. He wasn¡¯t going to waste time fighting for the approval of recruits who saw him as nothing more than an inconvenience. If they wouldn¡¯t trade with him, he¡¯d find another way.


    In his room, Abel sat on the edge of his bed, reflecting on everything that had happened. The gap between the gifted and non-gifted recruits felt more tangible than ever, but Abel knew one thing for sure¡ªhe wasn¡¯t going to stay at the bottom forever. He still had the library, still had his growing knowledge. He would use every resource available to him, and one day, he¡¯d prove them all wrong.

 Chapter 33: A Heart for Power

    Chapter 33: A Heart for Power


    A few days had passed, and Sena sat in his dimly lit room, eyes focused on the items scattered across the wooden table in front of him. His brow furrowed as he ran his fingers over the objects, feeling the weight of responsibility they carried. A basket-like backpack lay open, ready to carry the other tools he had meticulously prepared. Thin knives, each honed to a sharpness only a surgeon would appreciate, gleamed under the faint candlelight. There were jars as well, strange magical lines etched across them in a spiraling pattern, the lines expanding horizontally near the lids. These jars were essential, containers for preserving the essence of whatever he would encounter.


    The tools weren''t meant for combat. They were instruments for precision, for surgery¡ªa procedure so dangerous that even the knowledge of it had come at a cost. Sena still remembered the old tome, the one he''d studied so intensely before it had vanished once the trial period was over. Its pages had detailed something incredible but equally horrifying: the art of replacing one¡¯s heart with that of a magical creature. The heart, combined with the blood essence of the creature, was supposed to awaken the individual¡¯s latent magical properties and propel them into the rank of Apostles. But the risk¡­ the risk was astronomical.


    The procedure required more than just surgical skills. It needed magical substances to even stand a chance of success. "Holy Juice," a rare magical liquid, was necessary to prevent contamination during the operation. Without it, any attempt at replacing a human heart with a magical entity would result in immediate death from infection or magical backlash. Even if that hurdle was passed, there was the trauma¡ªthe body had to withstand the shock of the transformation. Only a specific magical plant, known as "Traumarest," could dull the body¡¯s response and allow the heart to settle within its new host.


    Sena''s fingers traced the surgical tools once more, his mind racing. He had no idea where to find the Holy Juice or Traumarest, but the idea of performing the operation haunted him, night and day. What if it worked? He could become stronger, ascend to Apostlehood, and be free of the limitations that plagued all recruits. But if it failed...


    A shiver ran down his spine. He stood from his chair and walked to the window, staring out into the expanse of the Stone Forest beyond. Clouds hung low, casting eerie shadows over the forest, their edges glowing faintly from the light of the setting sun. Today would mark a crucial step in his journey. He had accepted a task to venture near the border of the Inner and Outer Perimeter, a dangerous area that held greater threats but also greater rewards. The task was led by Cloudbreaker, a recently returned recruit¡ªless famous than figures like Gloomeyes or Salamander, but a survivor nonetheless.


    Cloudbreaker¡¯s goal was the same as Gravedigger¡¯s had been: to achieve a breakthrough and rise to the level of an Apostle. Sena was determined to learn from the experience, to observe firsthand what it took to succeed in such a dangerous ritual. On top of the promise of knowledge, the task was generous in terms of contribution points, and any spoils they found¡ªwhether it be magical plants, monster materials, or hidden treasure¡ªwould be theirs to keep. Sena knew that any remains of a magical beast could be invaluable to his future plans.


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    He would not miss this opportunity.


    Just then, a soft knock at the door broke through his thoughts. Sena turned to find Abel standing in the doorway. They had spoken earlier about the mission, and Abel had seemed intrigued by it. Both of them had gone to Poole¡¯s store to gather supplies for the journey, including the jars and backpack Sena now had. Abel had seemed particularly interested in the jars, marveling at the intricate magical lines etched onto them which preserved the things within for longer than normal. Sena had been too focused on the upcoming mission to fully engage with his friend, but he appreciated the company.


    "Ready?" Abel asked, stepping inside and glancing at the table full of tools.


    Sena gave a tight smile. "As ready as I¡¯ll ever be. Cloudbreaker¡¯s mission could be my chance to gather what I need for the¡­ procedure."


    Abel nodded, though his expression was cautious. "That¡¯s dangerous work, Sena. You sure about this?"


    Sena sighed, picking up one of the knives and turning it over in his hand. "I know. But if I don¡¯t take risks now, I¡¯ll never move forward. The procedure¡ªreplacing my heart¡ªis risky, but it''s the only way to ascend. I can¡¯t stay a recruit forever, besides we will be going on expeditions at some point too and they are dangerous, why not temper ourselves now?."


    Abel crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Just be careful. I¡¯ll be watching your back today."


    Sena chuckled, but the weight of the situation wasn¡¯t lost on him. "I appreciate it, Abel. Really. I just hope Cloudbreaker¡¯s ritual goes smoothly. Gravedigger gave us all a huge hint¡ªconcentrating mana within yourself or using a stimulant to trigger the breakthrough. It sounds so simple when you say it, but in practice¡­" His voice trailed off as he thought of the grueling trial ahead.


    "Yeah, well, nothing¡¯s simple out there. The creatures, the environment, all of it¡¯s out to kill you," Abel said, his tone serious. "We¡¯ll get what we need, but we¡¯re going to have to be sharp."


    Sena nodded in agreement. "I just hope I can find the remains of a magical beast. If I do, I might just have what I need to move forward."


    The two fell into silence for a moment, contemplating the dangers ahead. Finally, Abel clapped Sena on the shoulder, breaking the tension. "Let¡¯s go meet Cloudbreaker. We¡¯ll figure it out as we go."


    Sena nodded, gathering his things and slinging the basket pack over his shoulder. He grabbed the jars, carefully placed them inside, and picked up his set of knives, securing them to his belt. He gave one last glance at the room before following Abel out into the dim hallway.


    The air outside was thick with tension as they made their way toward the gathering point. The sky above the Stone Tower loomed heavy with clouds, and the strange lights and shadows that flitted through the Stone Forest gave the evening an unsettling feel. Sena couldn¡¯t help but feel that something dark lingered just out of sight, watching and waiting.

 Chapter 34: The Summits Omen

    Chapter 34: The Summit''s Omen


    Abel and Sena found themselves in the grand hall of the Stone Tower¡¯s first floor, adjusting the straps of their baskets and bags, their faces tense with anticipation. Around them, non-gifted recruits¡ªlike themselves¡ªwere preparing for their respective tasks. Abel glanced around, noticing the differences in robes. The gifted had intricate, embroidered details that distinguished them, their auras filled with confidence. Meanwhile, those like Abel and Sena seemed more subdued, their plain robes marking them as ordinary amidst the exceptional.


    Among the non-gifted, Lorne spotted Abel and made his way over, giving a brief wave. ¡°Abel! Didn''t expect to see you on this task.¡±


    Abel gave a slight smile, though his nerves made it hard to relax. "Yeah, thought it¡¯d be worth it."


    Lorne turned to Sena, introducing himself with a firm handshake. "Lorne. Nice to meet you."


    "Sena," came the reply. His voice was steady, but the tension was palpable.


    The three of them stood in silent expectation, their eyes shifting to Cloudbreaker, the leader of their mission. The young man stood near the towering stone pillars, idly spinning an umbrella in his hand. His rectangular glasses reflected the dim light, hiding the subtle intensity behind them. Cloudbreaker was an enigma¡ªnot as famous as the returning Apostles like Gravedigger or Salamander, but there was something unsettling about the quiet air around him. The umbrella, odd as it seemed, felt more like a weapon than a prop in his grasp.


    Soon, the final member of their group arrived¡ªa girl named Alisa. Abel recognized her from the library, while Sena greeted her with a nod of familiarity. She moved quietly, her footsteps barely a whisper as she took her place beside the others. Three more recruits joined them, their faces pale and somber.


    Cloudbreaker stepped forward, his voice smooth yet strangely hollow. ¡°We¡¯re heading west today, toward the highlands. My goal is simple¡ªto reach the summit of a hill and attempt my breakthrough during the coming storm.¡± He paused, letting the silence sink in before continuing. ¡°Your role is to ensure I remain undisturbed. Protect me from any threats¡ªbe they beasts or¡­ other forces.¡±


    The words ¡°other forces¡± lingered in the air, sending a shiver through Abel. He glanced around at the others, all nodding in agreement despite the tension that weighed heavily on the group.


    ¡°And remember,¡± Cloudbreaker added, his tone softening, ¡°this experience is as much for your growth as it is for mine. Witnessing a breakthrough could change everything for you.¡±


    Abel thought back to Gravedigger¡¯s breakthrough, the chaos of it still fresh in his mind. That night had been filled with strange occurrences, and the atmosphere surrounding this mission felt eerily similar. Yet this time, the darkness ahead seemed more foreboding, more dangerous.


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    With a final word, the group set off, passing through the colossal stone gates that led out from the safety of the Tower. The familiar path into the forest was dimly lit, the last traces of sunlight fading beneath the thick canopy. The towering trees, ancient and twisted, cast long shadows across their path, stretching like skeletal fingers that clawed at the ground. The statues that lined the perimeter of the Tower¡¯s grounds emitted a faint, pale glow, their features distorted in the fading light.


    As they ventured deeper into the woods, the light from the statues disappeared, replaced by the suffocating darkness of the forest. The wind howled through the twisted branches above, carrying with it strange, distant whispers. Abel tightened his grip on the straps of his bag, his heart beating a little faster with each step.


    Every now and then, a rustling sound would break the eerie silence¡ªtoo far to be seen, yet close enough to keep the group on edge. Abel¡¯s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, unsure of what lurked just out of sight. The trees seemed to bend inward, their gnarled branches swaying ominously, as if they were leaning in to listen to the whispers of the wind.


    Sena walked beside him, his face grim. "This forest feels alive today," he muttered under his breath.


    Abel nodded silently. There was something wrong with the air¡ªit was thick with something¡­ unnatural. He felt watched, the sensation of eyes constantly peering at them from just beyond the trees. Each creak of the forest floor beneath their feet felt amplified, as though the woods themselves were listening to their every move.


    The deeper they went, the colder it became. The wind cut through the trees like icy blades, and the deeper shadows seemed to swallow the light entirely. Faint glimmers of light danced in the distance¡ªsmall orbs, glowing in soft greens and blues, flickering for brief moments before vanishing. Abel¡¯s breath hitched as he caught sight of one floating between the trees, its glow pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat.


    "What is that?" Lorne whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the flickering lights.


    Cloudbreaker glanced back, his face expressionless. ¡°Forest spirits,¡± he said softly. ¡°They linger in the darkness, watching¡­ waiting.¡±


    The way Cloudbreaker spoke sent a chill down Abel¡¯s spine. The lights, once mesmerizing, now seemed far more sinister, like eyes watching from the void. None of them spoke further, the forest¡¯s eerie stillness forcing them into a tense silence.


    After what felt like hours of walking, they finally emerged from the dense forest into a clearing at the foot of the highlands. Before them, the landscape sloped sharply upward, jagged rocks and thorny bushes dotting the terrain. Above, the sky had turned an ominous shade of gray, dark clouds rolling in from the east. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind carried with it the scent of rain.


    Cloudbreaker stopped, gazing up at the darkening sky with a calm expression. "This is the place. We climb to the summit, and there, we begin the ritual."


    The recruits spread out at Cloudbreaker¡¯s command, taking their positions around the clearing. Abel and Sena exchanged glances, their nerves frayed from the eerie atmosphere of the journey. The storm was approaching fast, and the highlands, with their jagged rocks and barren hills, felt even more hostile than the forest. The wind was picking up, howling through the rocks and carrying strange whispers that seemed to echo from every direction.


    The ground beneath their feet felt alive with tension, as though the land itself was preparing for what was to come.

 Chapter 35: Secrets Buried in the West

    Chapter 35: Secrets Buried in the West


    Nando moved quietly through the halls of the Stone Tower, his thoughts heavy as he descended toward the first floor. Unlike the other recruits, today he had no task to occupy his time, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t on a mission. His contribution points had been steadily increasing, and he had saved enough to indulge his curiosity¡ªa dangerous curiosity that had been gnawing at him since he overheard whispers about a forgotten Apostle.


    The Apostle known as FiendFinger.


    The name alone had sparked something in Nando¡ªa mix of awe and intrigue. FiendFinger was one of the first non-gifted to become an Apostle of the tower, and his rise in power had been nothing short of miraculous, yet unsettling. There were rumors about how he had grafted a demon''s finger onto his own hand, a procedure so taboo and strange that it sounded more like a horror story than reality. And yet, eight years ago, FiendFinger had disappeared, vanishing without a trace on a task assigned by the Tower. Before the disappearance, he had been scrutinized by the other apostles for his research involving other humans. In fact, some say his disappearance was purposeful as to avoid the punishment from the tower.


    Nando reached the library¡¯s entrance and pushed open the large wooden doors. The room was cloaked in shadows as the dim light filtered through the towering windows. The air inside felt still, as though it held secrets waiting to be unraveled. He stepped in, his boots echoing against the stone floor, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, Marcella''s eyes were on him.


    ¡°Looking for something, Nando?¡± Marcella¡¯s voice was warm but laced with curiosity as she sat behind the grand desk, her sharp eyes peering over her spectacles. There was something about her calm demeanor that always unnerved him slightly as if she already knew the answers to questions he hadn''t even asked yet.


    Nando hesitated for a moment, his gaze briefly darting around the vast expanse of shelves filled with books before he responded, ¡°Yes, actually. I¡¯m looking for any information on an old apostle of the Tower... someone called FiendFinger.¡±


    Marcella leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk. ¡°FiendFinger, you say? He¡¯s not a name I hear often, certainly not from recruits like you. Why are you looking for him?¡±


    Nando met her gaze, trying to appear casual. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a few things. Rumors, mostly. They say he was one of the first non-gifted to become an apostle. I¡¯m interested in the way he did it.¡±


    Marcella raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening. ¡°You mean the finger of a demon he supposedly transplanted onto himself?¡±


    Nando nodded.


    For a brief moment, the air between them seemed to shift, a tension creeping in as Marcella considered his words. Then, with a sigh, she rose from her chair. ¡°Follow me,¡± she said, her voice soft but firm.


    Nando trailed behind her as they wound through the maze of bookshelves. Deeper and deeper they went, the light growing dimmer, the silence growing more oppressive. Marcella led him to a secluded section of the library, a place where the dust seemed thicker, and the books older, their spines cracked and weathered.


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    She stopped and gestured to a row of books on a low shelf. ¡°You¡¯ll want to start here,¡± she said. ¡°This section covers the darker aspects of alchemy and forbidden arts. You may find something useful about FiendFinger¡¯s methods... or, at the very least, you¡¯ll learn about the Black Alchemists.¡±


    Nando furrowed his brow. ¡°Black Alchemists?¡±


    Marcella¡¯s eyes darkened as she explained, ¡°A secretive and dangerous group that existed long before the Rollan Kingdom. They were known for their twisted rituals and experiments. They specialized in transplanting body parts from creatures¡ªdemons, beasts, and other treacherous beings¡ªinto humans. Their methods were brutal and often resulted in madness, but for those who survived, the rewards were... substantial.¡±


    The mention of madness made Nando¡¯s stomach churn, but his curiosity only deepened. He couldn¡¯t help but think of the mossy floater arm he had recovered and the possibilities it held.


    ¡°What happened to them?¡± Nando asked.


    ¡°They were wiped out¡ªor so it¡¯s believed,¡± Marcella replied, her voice lowering. ¡°Leaving behind forgotten ruins throughout this continent.¡±


    Nando¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Could it be? The possibility of finding such a place¡ªof learning their methods¡ªwas both thrilling and terrifying. He nodded to Marcella, thanking her for the guidance.


    She gave him one last look, her expression unreadable. ¡°Be careful, Nando. Knowledge, especially the kind you¡¯re seeking, always comes with a price.¡±


    With that, Marcella turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the library, leaving Nando alone with the ancient tomes.


    He reached for the nearest book, its cover cracked and aged. The title, written in a language barely recognizable, seemed to pulse with a faint glow as he opened it. Inside, the pages were filled with diagrams¡ªhuman bodies with foreign limbs attached, eyes glowing with unnatural power, rituals drawn in circles with arcane symbols.


    Nando read through the passages, learning more about the Black Alchemists and their twisted practices. They weren¡¯t just interested in transplantation¡ªthey were obsessed with control, with mastering the body and turning it into something more. To them, the human form was merely a canvas, waiting to be altered, and improved.


    One section in particular caught his attention. It spoke of how the transplanted parts, especially those of magical creatures, held a concentrated essence¡ªwhat the Black Alchemists called unique mana. This was the key to the transformation, the reason why a demon¡¯s finger could grant such power. The demon¡¯s essence was more than just flesh¡ªit was a concentrated form of its power, and if one could survive the process of merging that essence with their own, they would unlock immense abilities.


    Further on, the book mentioned a location¡ªthe West. Hidden within the Highlands, there were said to be ruins of a Black Alchemist stronghold, a place where their rituals were once conducted. The thought sent a thrill through Nando. This could be it¡ªa chance to learn more, to find a way to use the strange arm he had in his possession. He had to head west and explore to find the remains of the Black Alchemists.


    He closed the book, his heart racing, and carefully placed it back on the shelf. This was more than just idle curiosity now¡ªthis was a path. A dangerous path, yes, but one that might lead him to power beyond anything he¡¯d ever imagined.


    Nando returned to the library¡¯s entrance, his mind racing with possibilities. Marcella was at her desk once more, watching him as he approached.


    ¡°Find what you were looking for?¡± she asked, her voice light but her eyes sharp.


    ¡°I think so,¡± Nando replied, trying to keep his excitement in check. ¡°Thank you, Marcella.¡±


    She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. ¡°Just remember¡ªknowledge is a double-edged sword. Don¡¯t let it cut too deep.¡±


    With a final nod, Nando left the library, the weight of what he had learned pressing heavily on his mind. The path ahead was dangerous, but the lure of power was too strong to resist. He knew what he had to do next, as he headed to the task office curious to see if there was any task that would allow him to travel west.

 Chapter 36: Cloudy Horror

    Chapter 36: Cloudy Horror


    The highlands were an unforgiving place. Cold winds howled across the barren landscape, tugging at the robes of the recruits who stood near the base of the hill, watching the strange spectacle unfold. Above them, Cloudbreaker stood tall with his short, buzzed blonde hair slick from the rain. His umbrella, a strangely out-of-place object in such a desolate setting, shielded him from the storm. Yet the storm seemed to be of his own making. Dark clouds churned in the sky above him, swirling in violent patterns that mirrored the ancient words that rolled off his tongue.


    Abel stood amongst the recruits, his eyes locked on Cloudbreaker. The scene was eerily reminiscent of Gravedigger¡¯s ritual, yet there was something distinctly different this time¡ªsomething darker, more unsettling. The highlands, though open, offered no comfort. They lacked the familiar cover of trees, and the vast emptiness seemed to magnify the storm¡¯s intensity. The wind roared like a beast, tearing at the recruits¡¯ clothing, but they could do nothing but watch.


    Cloudbreaker¡¯s robe fluttered wildly in the wind, his arms now spread wide in a crucifix-like stance. In his right hand, he held the severed head of a strange bird. Its beak was unnaturally long, as if carved from the very clouds swirling above them. In his left hand, he grasped a substance that defied logic¡ªa strange, gaseous foam that pulsed and shifted as though alive.


    The sky above Cloudbreaker responded to his murmured incantations, swirling faster and faster, forming a dark vortex directly above his head. A beam of dense clouds shot downward, enveloping him in a cyclone of pale mist. The air around him crackled with energy as Abel and the other recruits instinctively took a step back, their hearts racing in sync with the storm.


    Abel''s instincts screamed at him, something was coming. He glanced at Lorne, who stood nearby, wide-eyed and tense.


    ¡°We should get ready,¡± Lorne muttered, barely audible over the storm.


    Before Abel could reply, a distant roar ripped through the sky, freezing them in place. It was a sound unlike anything Abel had ever heard¡ªraw, ancient, and filled with unrelenting malice. The recruits'' gazes shot upward, and there, in the storm-filled sky, it appeared.


    A creature¡ªno, a horror¡ªemerged from the swirling clouds. It looked like something birthed from the sky itself, its body formless and shifting like storm clouds, but with monstrous limbs that extended and contracted in unnatural ways. Its face was a nightmarish amalgamation of jagged, lightning-like features, glowing eyes, and a gaping maw of shadow and mist.


    Abel¡¯s breath caught in his throat. The recruits stood frozen, the cold creeping up their spines.


    "What... what is that?" Lorne whispered, his voice trembling, very uncharacteristically.


    ¡°That¡¯s no beast...¡± Abel replied, his voice barely a whisper. He had seen fearsome creatures before, but nothing like this¡ªa creature made of the storm itself, an entity that looked as though it could swallow the sky.


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    ¡°How are we supposed to fight that?¡± Lorne asked, his voice breaking into panic as the horror moved closer, each second amplifying the dread within them.


    ¡°Cloudbreaker!¡± Alisa shouted, her voice cracking with terror, trying to break through the cyclone and the storm. But Cloudbreaker was lost in his trance, arms wide, eyes closed, still chanting in that strange ancient tongue as the storm intensified around him.


    The recruits scrambled backward as the sky horror surged forward, its form twisting and expanding as it descended upon the lone figure atop the hill. Abel¡¯s heart pounded as the air crackled with electricity. The storm lashed out violently, rain turning to sheets of ice-cold needles.


    ¡°Fall back!¡± one of the recruits yelled, panic setting in as they realized the full magnitude of the danger before them. ¡°We can¡¯t fight that thing!¡±


    The horror let out another roar, the sound vibrating through Abel¡¯s bones. He took a step back, and the recruits around him followed suit, their eyes wide with fear. They couldn¡¯t stay¡ªthey had to retreat. But before they could act, the sky horror made its move.


    With terrifying speed, the creature descended upon Cloudbreaker. Its shadow engulfed him completely, and for a brief moment, everything was still.


    Then, with a sickening crunch, Cloudbreaker was obliterated.


    The storm horror¡¯s mass slammed into him with such force that his body was reduced to a gruesome paste of flesh and bone, splattering across the hilltop. The bird¡¯s head and the foam-like substance disintegrated as if they had never existed, consumed by the raw power of the entity.


    Abel felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His stomach churned as the storm beast, its task complete, turned its gaze toward the remaining recruits.


    ¡°Run!¡± Abel shouted, his voice desperate as the recruits snapped out of their paralysis. They scattered, their feet pounding against the muddy ground as they fled into the dense forest surrounding the highlands.


    The wind howled behind them as the horror gave chase, its enormous form moving unnaturally fast for something so massive, although once it flew over the forest its speed decreased drastically as if it was being suppressed by an unknown magical force.


    Abel could hear the crackle of lightning striking behind them, the scent of burning ozone filling the air. His heart hammered in his chest, his legs aching as he pushed himself to run faster. He had taken off the basked just like the other recruits to boost his speed, and he simply hoped to make back further into the inner perimeter and hope for the towers protection to handle this abomination.


    The forest closed in around them, the trees becoming their only shelter from the relentless pursuit of the storm horror. Branches whipped at Abel¡¯s face as he tore through the underbrush, the sounds of thunder and crashing trees growing louder behind him.


    Just when it seemed like they could run no more, Abel spotted a large, gnarled tree in the distance. Its thick trunk loomed before them, a strange hollow at its base.


    ¡°Over there!¡± Lorne shouted, pointing toward the tree.


    Abel didn¡¯t hesitate. They sprinted toward the hollow, diving into the darkness just as a deafening crash echoed through the forest, the storm horror¡¯s rage tearing apart the landscape behind them.


    One by one, the recruits scrambled into the hollow, the darkness swallowing them as they tumbled into the unknown depths beneath the tree.

 Chapter 37: Nandos Path

    Chapter 37: Nando''s Path


    Nando stood just outside the towering stone gates of the Tower, gazing out at the vast expanse of forest that stretched beyond the perimeter. The early morning mist clung to the trees like a veil, the dense, twisted branches casting long shadows on the ground. The task he had taken¡ªharvesting golden duckweed¡ªwas, on paper, a simple one. But in truth, it was only a cover for his true objective: the Black Alchemist ruins, a long-lost site rumored to contain dark, forgotten knowledge.


    He adjusted the sack slung over his shoulder, feeling the dead weight of the small magical chickens inside¡ªthe necessary components for the luck ritual he''d memorized. The ritual was dangerous, but he''d be foolish to go on such an expedition without it. His family had ensured he was prepared with a few additional trump cards, and as he stood there, watching groups of recruits laugh and talk among themselves in front of the tower, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of resentment.


    The gifted students, with their smug expressions and easy camaraderie, were worlds apart from him. For them, the process of forming a mana pool would be as natural as breathing. They could take their time, and explore the Tower¡¯s secrets at their leisure, knowing that the power they sought would come to them without the same peril that Nando faced. They didn''t have to worry about the looming deadline of their twenty-third birthday¡ªthe age at which a non-gifted recruit would become locked out of the potential to form a mana pool entirely. That cruel fate hovered over Nando like a storm cloud, pushing him to act with urgency, knowing that failure would mean not only stagnation but also the possibility of being forever powerless.


    He clenched his fists, feeling the cool metal of the silver ring on his finger, a reminder of his family¡¯s last gift to him. The ring was an offensive weapon, capable of transforming his hand into solid silver, granting him immense strength. But like all things in this world, power came at a cost. Overuse of the ring could leave his hand a disfigured mess, perhaps even cripple him if he wasn¡¯t careful. He looked down at the ring for a moment, his jaw tightening. It would have to be a last resort. His other trump card¡ªa magical necklace that heightened his senses¡ªwas a more passive tool. It allowed him to be more alert, and his awareness sharper, but it too came with drawbacks. Prolonged use had a way of souring his mood, leaving him irritable and, at times, unstable.


    He exhaled slowly, reminding himself that this was a calculated risk. As much as he hated it, this was the world they lived in. A cruel one, where only the strongest or most cunning could rise. He adjusted the sack on his shoulder, giving the laughing recruits one last glance, before stepping into the shadowed forest, disappearing from sight.


    The forest within the inner perimeter was vast, a labyrinth of trees that stretched for miles. The journey would take hours, maybe more, on foot. Nando moved swiftly, his eyes scanning the dense brush for any signs of danger. He had prepared well, pouring over maps and books in the Tower¡¯s library, cross-referencing ancient texts with more recent reports. His search for the Black Alchemists¡¯ ruins had led him to several potential sites, all within the western territories bordering the outer perimeter. These locations matched the descriptions he had found, and he was determined to visit each one.


    As he walked, the sounds of the forest surrounded him¡ªthe rustling of leaves, the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. The wind carried with it a cool, earthy scent, mingled with the distant smell of pine. His thoughts turned to the stories he had read about Fiendfinger, the treacherous apostle who had once been a thorn in the Tower¡¯s side. The rumors painted Fiendfinger as a figure of defiance, a non-gifted who had somehow clawed his way to power through dark and forbidden means. It was said that he harbored a deep resentment toward the Tower¡¯s gifted recruits, a hatred born from years of conflict and perceived injustice.


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    Nando couldn¡¯t help but feel a strange sense of connection to the long-gone apostle. He too had felt the sting of being overlooked, of being told that his potential was lesser simply because he wasn¡¯t born with a natural gift. But unlike Fiendfinger, Nando had no desire to challenge the Tower directly. He was smart enough to know that any overt opposition would be suicide. Still, the thought of Fiendfinger¡¯s rebellion gnawed at him. What had he found there that had made him so dangerous?


    Nando shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. It didn¡¯t matter now. Fiendfinger was long dead, and whatever secrets he had uncovered were buried with him. This was Nando¡¯s journey now, and he wouldn¡¯t allow the specter of a long-gone apostle to haunt his steps.


    As he ventured deeper into the forest, the trees began to thin, giving way to a more rocky terrain. The ground beneath his feet became uneven, littered with stones and patches of dry grass. He paused for a moment, glancing around at the changing landscape. This was one of the areas he had marked on his map, a place that matched the descriptions of the ruins¡¯ potential location. His pulse quickened as he scanned the area for any signs of old structures, hidden pathways, or anything that could indicate he was close to his goal.


    But there was nothing. Just rocks and dry grass.


    Nando cursed under his breath. He had known this search wouldn¡¯t be easy, but still, the disappointment stung. He pressed on, his eyes sharp and focused, hoping that the next location would yield better results.


    The hours passed slowly, the forest growing darker as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Nando¡¯s feet ached, but he kept moving, driven by a mixture of determination and desperation. The ruins had to be out here, somewhere. They had to be.


    As he walked, his thoughts drifted again to the rumors of Fiendfinger. The apostle had been obsessed with unlocking the secrets of the Black Alchemists, a group known for their dark experiments and forbidden magic. They had once delved into the deepest, most treacherous corners of the magical world, manipulating life and death itself. Nando had read enough to know that their methods were dangerous, their research steeped in cruelty and madness. But he also knew that power often came at a cost. If the Black Alchemists held the key to creating a mana pool for the non-gifted, then the risk was worth it.


    He glanced down at the silver ring on his finger, feeling its weight. He would use it if he had to. If the ruins were as dangerous as the rumors suggested, then he would need every advantage he had. His necklace, too, would come in handy, heightening his senses as he explored the ancient structures¡ªif he could find them.


    The sun was beginning to set now, casting long shadows through the trees. Nando knew he would have to set up camp soon, but something urged him to keep going, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. It was as though the forest itself was pulling him forward, guiding him toward something just out of reach.


    And then, in the distance, he saw it¡ªa faint glimmer of light, just barely visible through the trees.


    Nando¡¯s heart leaped in his chest. Could it be?


    He quickened his pace, moving toward the light, his pulse racing. As he drew closer, the trees parted, revealing a small clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a crumbling stone archway, half-buried in the earth. The structure was old, ancient even, its stones weathered and cracked, covered in moss and vines. But there was no mistaking what it was.


    The ruins.


    Nando stood at the edge of the clearing, his breath catching in his throat. He had found it. After all the hours of searching, after all the doubts and frustrations, he had finally found the Black Alchemist ruins.


    But as he stepped closer, a strange feeling washed over him¡ªa sense of unease, as though something was watching him from the shadows. The air grew colder, and the wind seemed to whisper through the trees, carrying with it a faint, eerie hum.


    Nando¡¯s hand instinctively moved to the sack at his waist, his fingers brushing against the dead chickens inside. He had a feeling he might need that luck ritual sooner than he thought.


    With a deep breath, he stepped into the clearing, ready to uncover the secrets that lay hidden within the ancient stones.

 Chapter 38: Bound by Roots, Lost in Time

    Chapter 38: Bound by Roots, Lost in Time


    The recruits stumbled through the hollow of the great tree, their bodies sliding down its strange, slick roots. It was as though the earth itself was pulling them deeper and deeper, the soil around them tightening and twisting as they descended in an almost endless spiral. Abel felt the pressure of the earth closing in, squeezing him from all sides as the roots coiled around them like serpents.


    For nearly ten minutes, they were dragged downward, weightless yet bound, their surroundings nothing but an all-encompassing darkness. Abel¡¯s heart pounded, his senses overwhelmed by the claustrophobic descent, the silence deafening. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pull stopped, and they were spat out of the earth like debris, collapsing onto the cold, wet mud below.


    Abel hit the ground hard, his breath knocked out of him. The air smelled of damp rot and decay, the thick mud clinging to his robes as he struggled to his feet. Around him, the other recruits stirred, disoriented, and coated in the same filth. A strange, oppressive silence hung over the place, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing.


    One of the recruits, a pale girl named Alisa with a trembling hand, pulled out a thin, twisted branch¡ªa magical artifact. As she muttered a soft incantation, the stick bloomed with pale flowers that emitted a dim, ghostly glow, casting long, wavering shadows across the chamber.


    The faint light revealed their surroundings. They weren¡¯t in a cave, but rather, a decrepit and forgotten hall¡ªa place that had once been grand, now consumed by time and nature. Pillars, broken and moss-covered, lined the chamber, and fragments of ancient architecture jutted from the earth like the bones of some long-dead beast. Vines snaked through the walls, their tendrils coiling around the ruined stone as if trying to pull the hall further into the depths.


    Abel¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the scene. There was something deeply unsettling about the place. It felt like they had stumbled upon a tomb that wasn¡¯t meant to be found¡ªa forgotten relic from a time best left buried.


    ¡°This... this place,¡± one of the recruits whispered, their voice trembling with fear. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Lorne muttered, his eyes darting around, scanning for any sign of danger. ¡°We¡¯re alive, that¡¯s what matters. Let''s find a way out before that thing follows us down here.¡±


    Abel nodded, though his unease grew with every passing moment. He looked at the others. They shared his relief at having escaped the storm horror, but that relief was rapidly being replaced by a creeping dread as they realized where they had ended up. The air itself felt thick and heavy, as if something ancient was watching them from the shadows.


    As they moved further into the hall, Abel noticed something strange. One of the recruits, the one holding the glowing stick, had stopped moving. She was staring intently at one of the walls, her face slack, her eyes wide and unfocused.


    ¡°Sena?¡± Abel called out softly, noticing that his friend had also frozen in place. Sena was standing beside the girl, his gaze fixed on the same section of the wall. His body was rigid, his expression blank, as though he had been hollowed out from the inside.


    ¡°Lorne!¡± Abel hissed, motioning towards them. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong!¡±


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    Lorne rushed over, his own face pale with fear. ¡°Don¡¯t look at the wall!¡± he snapped, his voice shaking. He grabbed the girl by the shoulders and yanked her away from the wall. Her eyes fluttered, and she gasped as though waking from a nightmare.


    Sena was harder to pull away, his body stiff as a statue. Abel reached out and grabbed his arm, shaking him violently. ¡°Sena! Snap out of it!¡±


    For a moment, it seemed hopeless¡ªSena¡¯s eyes remained locked on the wall, his mind lost somewhere beyond the veil of reality. But then, with a shudder, he blinked and gasped, stumbling backward into Abel''s arms.


    "What¡­ what was that?" Sena stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. He looked shaken, his usually calm demeanor shattered. His hand trembled as he brought it to his face, wiping the sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead.


    "I don''t know," Abel replied, almost glancing warily at the wall. "What did you see?"


    Sena shook his head, eyes wide. "I¡ªnothing. I don''t remember looking at anything. It just¡­ swallowed me. I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t think. I didn¡¯t feel anything. It was like¡­ like I wasn¡¯t even here anymore."


    Alisa, who had also fallen victim to the wall¡¯s eerie lure, clutched her head, her breath shallow and uneven. ¡°Same for me,¡± she murmured, her voice trembling. ¡°It was like¡­ everything disappeared. I couldn¡¯t feel myself.¡±


    Abel glanced toward the wall but quickly turned his gaze away, the sense of something malevolent emanating from it too overwhelming to ignore. Lorne, his face as pale as the others, whispered harshly, "Everyone, avoid looking at that wall. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s on it, but whatever it is... we can¡¯t afford to lose anyone else."


    The other recruits, already spooked, exchanged nervous glances and nodded quickly. They moved with deliberate caution now, keeping their eyes firmly fixed on the path ahead, their gazes skirting the haunted wall. No one dared look back.


    As they continued, the silence grew more oppressive, broken only by the occasional drip of water or the soft shuffle of their feet. Every shadow seemed to creep closer, every flicker of light from the flowered stick casting twisted shapes across the broken stone. Abel felt the weight of the place, a tangible sense of dread curling around them like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.


    They were in a cursed place, that much was clear. Whatever power had entranced Sena and the girl was not something they could face¡ªat least, not here, in this forgotten, decayed hall. Abel¡¯s heart pounded as the realization settled deep into his bones. They needed to leave.


    "We should hurry," Abel whispered, his voice tight with anxiety. "There¡¯s no telling what else could be here."


    The others agreed without argument, and they quickened their pace, all the while avoiding the walls that seemed to hold some terrible secret. Abel¡¯s eyes flicked nervously to the side whenever he caught the faintest glimpse of movement in the dark. The walls, cracked and ancient, seemed to hum with a low, unnerving energy.


    Finally, after what felt like hours of creeping through the eerie ruins, they came upon a half-open gate. The massive stone doorway was adorned with ancient symbols and glittering jewels that had dulled with age. Beyond the gate, a long, dimly lit stone hallway stretched out like a black void, the air within it colder than the rest of the hall.


    They hesitated at the threshold, staring into the darkness beyond. The hallway seemed to lead nowhere, swallowed by shadows.


    ¡°This looks like our only way forward,¡± Lorne said, though his voice was barely above a whisper. There was no excitement or confidence in his words, only quiet fear.


    Abel swallowed, his throat dry. The ominous feeling pressed harder against his chest as they stepped closer to the void. It felt as though the darkness was beckoning them, waiting with patient hunger.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he murmured, steeling himself. They needed to move, and whatever lay ahead had to be better than the walls behind them.


    Without another word, they all stepped through the ancient gate and into the black void beyond, hoping that whatever horrors waited for them inside were kinder than the ones they had already left behind.

 Chapter 39: Footsteps of Fear

    Chapter 39: Footsteps of Fear


    The recruits moved silently through the mossy tunnel, the air around them thick with unease. Each step echoed faintly off the damp walls, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the oppressive darkness. No one spoke, their fear palpable. The memory of the strange room they had fallen into still haunted their thoughts, but the tunnel they now traversed was no less eerie. It felt alive, as though the walls themselves were watching them.


    The seven recruits walked close together, their nerves taut, as if at any moment something might lunge from the shadows. The tunnel twisted and turned, the air growing heavier the farther they ventured. They couldn¡¯t tell which was worse¡ªthe suffocating darkness of the tunnel or the unsettling unknown waiting for them at its end.


    After what seemed like an eternity, they came upon another half-opened ancient gate, its stone surface cracked and weathered by time. A warm breeze seeped through the narrow opening, brushing against their skin like the breath of some hidden entity. It carried with it the faint scent of burning wood, making the recruits exchange uneasy glances. The warm air and dim light emanating from beyond the gate offered a sliver of hope, but the strangeness of it sent a shiver through Abel¡¯s spine.


    They exchanged hesitant looks but moved forward, pushing the gate open with a groan. As they stepped into the room, their breaths caught in their throats.


    It was a large, grand chamber, far bigger than they had anticipated. Extravagant furniture, much too elegant for such an ancient place, was scattered around the room. A richly adorned rug covered the stone floor, and shelves lined the walls, their surfaces filled with old, rotting trinkets. But what froze them in place wasn¡¯t the furniture¡ªit was the lit fireplace. The flames crackled softly, casting a warm glow that seemed entirely out of place in this cold, eerie environment. Several lanterns flickered along the walls, their soft light adding to the unease.


    The recruits exchanged horrified glances. This place was ancient, lost to time. So why was there a fire burning? Who had lit it? The very thought sent a wave of fear through them.


    "This... this place is alive," whispered Gato, a short and stocky boy with wide eyes. He clutched his pack tightly, glancing around the room with mounting panic. "Maybe it''s a vengeful ghost or another horror¡ªexcept this time we''re underground."


    His words echoed in the silence, the suggestion hanging ominously in the air. Alisa, the girl with the glowing stick, clutched it closer to her chest as though it might ward off whatever haunted this place. Her voice, barely above a murmur, trembled as she offered, ¡°M-maybe it¡¯s a fellow apostle from a different tower. Maybe... they¡¯re not dangerous.¡±


    Lorne, standing tall with his arms crossed, shook his head gravely. ¡°This is Stone Tower territory. No one should be here, no other apostles from other towers. Whoever lit these fires, they''re not from the outside.¡±


    The silence stretched on, their fear thickening as they slowly absorbed the situation. The crackling of the fire became almost sinister, the warmth of the room suddenly suffocating. It felt wrong¡ªan ancient place, half destroyed by time, should not have a fire burning. The very thought chilled them to their bones. They looked around and decided to see if they could find an exit.


    The recruits moved deeper into the strange, haunting place, their steps cautious as the unsettling atmosphere of the ancient ruin pressed down on them. The crackling of the distant fire in the room behind them had unnerved them, but what lay ahead seemed no more inviting. Every shadow in the long corridors seemed to move, twisting and curling in ways that defied the flickering light of the lantern Alisa held.


    Abel¡¯s breath hitched as they entered a new chamber, larger than the previous ones. His heart sank at what he saw¡ªa collection of grotesque, bizarre taxidermy creatures mounted on stone pedestals. They were twisted, unnatural things that defied explanation, a mockery of nature''s laws. The closest one was a chimera-like creature with the body of a lion, but where its mane should have been, there was the head of an owl, its large, unblinking eyes forever staring into nothingness. Its wings, jagged and uneven, jutted out awkwardly from its back, as if sewn on by a madman.


    The recruits recoiled in disgust. Gato, his face pale, muttered, "These can¡¯t be real... these things¡­"


    Sena shook his head, eyes wide as he stared at another creature, an abomination that looked like a dog with the torso of a snake and the legs of a human. The stitching around the joints was crude, almost haphazard, as if whoever had crafted it didn¡¯t care about making it functional¡ªonly about creating something horrifying.


    Abel couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the morbid display. "What is this place?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His hand unconsciously brushed the hilt of his dagger, the only comfort he had in the nightmare they were now walking through.


    "This isn''t just an old ruin. This is... a laboratory," Alisa said quietly, her voice shaking. "Whoever was here wasn¡¯t just experimenting with magic. They were experimenting with life itself."


    They skirted around the taxidermy creatures, making sure not to get too close to any of the abominations. Each step was slow, deliberate, as if any sudden movement might bring the grotesque things to life. Abel could feel the tension in the air, as if the room itself were holding its breath, waiting for something to break the silence.


    Finally, they reached the far side of the chamber, and to their relief, a doorway led them out of the macabre display. They entered another, smaller room, the air slightly cooler but no less unsettling. The walls here were bare, save for a single large painting that hung in the center of the back wall. The painting¡¯s frame was ornate, gilded with gold, and seemed out of place amidst the ruin and decay surrounding them.


    "Let''s... just keep moving," Abel suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn¡¯t want to look at the painting, and yet, as if by some unseen force, his gaze was drawn to it. The others hesitated, but one by one, their eyes fell upon the painting as well.


    It was grotesque¡ªa depiction of a man with two heads, each face twisted in a permanent expression of agony. The body was disturbingly small, that of a toddler, but the arms were long and muscular, the hands almost grotesquely oversized. The creature in the painting stood upright, its two heads watching in opposite directions, and the background behind it was an indistinct swirl of dark colors, as though the very canvas itself was alive with movement.


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    The recruits stared, frozen in place, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. Abel took a step forward, letting out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he had been holding.


    ¡°Thank the gods,¡± Sena muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I thought¡ª¡±


    The painting shook violently, cutting Sena off mid-sentence. The recruits jumped back in alarm, their hands flying to their weapons. Abel''s heart leaped into his throat as he watched the canvas ripple, the figure in the painting twitching as though it were struggling to break free from its confines.


    And then, to their horror, the creature began to emerge.


    With a sickening slurp, the two-headed abomination crawled out of the painting, its bloated, grotesque form wriggling as if it were being birthed from the very canvas itself. It flopped onto the stone floor with a wet thud, its oversized hands scrabbling against the ground as it tried to find its footing. One of its heads twisted unnaturally, locking its gaze onto the recruits. Its eyes were filled with fear, as though it were just as confused by its sudden freedom as they were.


    The recruits stood frozen, their weapons drawn but unsure of what to do. Abel felt the cold sweat trickling down his spine, his hand gripping the hilt of his dagger so tightly that his knuckles turned white.


    The creature scrambled to its feet with awkward, jerky movements, its heads swiveling erratically as it took in the group of recruits. Then, without warning, it turned and bolted for a door at the far end of the room, its heavy footsteps echoing as it fled into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of strange, dark liquid that oozed from its malformed body.


    ¡°What... the hell was that?¡± Abel gasped, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Gato, ever the curious one, cautiously approached the spot where the creature had fallen. A puddle of the dark liquid had formed on the ground, viscous and thick, almost like tar. Without hesitation, Gato reached into his robe and pulled out a small jar.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Sena hissed, still shaken by the bizarre encounter.


    ¡°This could be useful,¡± Gato replied calmly, crouching down to fill the jar with the strange substance. The others watched in disbelief as he carefully sealed the jar and tucked it back into his robe.


    ¡°We just saw something crawl out of a painting, and you want to take a sample of that... that goo?¡± Alisa asked, her voice incredulous.


    ¡°Knowledge and curiosity are power,¡± Gato muttered, standing up and brushing his hands off. ¡°I have a feeling this place holds more secrets than we can even imagine.¡±


    Abel shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering unease. ¡°Let¡¯s just keep moving. We need to figure out what¡¯s going on here.¡±


    They continued their exploration, moving through narrow corridors and passing through rooms filled with strange objects and abandoned experiments until they reached the initial fireplace toom they had first encountered. The air grew colder, and the silence became heavier, as if the ruin itself were watching them, waiting for something to happen.


    And then they heard it¡ªa sound that sent a chill down their spines. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, coming from somewhere deeper within the ruin.


    The recruits froze, their hearts pounding in unison. The footsteps grew louder, echoing through the stone halls, until it sounded like they were right behind them.


    Abel¡¯s breath hitched as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes searching the darkness for the source of the sound. ¡°Something¡¯s coming,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible.


    And then, as if on cue, the footsteps stopped, plunging them into an eerie, suffocating silence.


    Lorne, standing tall with his arms crossed, shook his head gravely. ¡°This is Stone Tower territory. No one should be here, no other apostles from other towers. Whoever lit these fires, they¡¯re not from the outside.¡±


    The recruits exchanged fearful glances, their imaginations running wild. Whatever had been lurking in the shadows was closer than ever, and now, they knew they were not alone in this strange, twisted place.


    As they stood frozen, trying to comprehend the situation, a sound broke through the silence. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, coming from the depths of the room. They were soft at first, but the unmistakable sound of boots against stone echoed louder with each step.


    Abel¡¯s heart raced. His body froze, fear coursing through his veins like ice. Without a word, the recruits scattered, hiding behind whatever they could find. Abel ducked behind a large, ornate chair, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Lorne slipped into the shadow of a massive bookshelf, his eyes wide and frantic. Gato clung to the side of the fireplace, trying to make himself as small as possible. Alisa crouched behind a fallen pillar, her glowing stick dimmed under the cover of her cloak.


    The footsteps grew closer, each one a thunderous beat in the stillness of the room. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªwas approaching, the recruits prayed it wouldn¡¯t see them.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, back at the Stone Tower, Isabella was walking away from the task office, her mind on her next task. She was tired but determined to keep herself busy. As she moved towards the stairs leading to her quarters, a commanding voice echoed through the hall, catching her attention.


    "I seek the Overseer," the voice demanded.


    Isabella turned and saw Gloomeyes standing tall and fierce at the center of the hall. Her deep blue hair flowed down her back, matching the ferocity in her piercing eyes. She carried her tribal axe strapped across her back, the sheer presence of it making Isabella¡¯s pulse quicken. Gloomeyes looked like a force of nature, her muscular shoulders squared as she waited with an air of quiet confidence.


    The Overseer, sensing her arrival, made his way towards her. "Are you ready to ascend the tower?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative.


    Gloomeyes nodded, her eyes flashing with determination. "Yes," she said, her voice like a low growl. "I am ready."


    The Overseer nodded slightly, then asked, "Show me proof of your readiness."


    Without hesitation, Gloomeyes planted her feet firmly, squatting slightly as she spread her stance. The air around her seemed to warp and distort, and suddenly, a powerful heat erupted from her body. Flames roared to life, swirling around her form like a living inferno. The air crackled with raw energy as the flames danced around her, but just as suddenly, a strange black hue bled into the fire. The black flames mingled with the red, creating an otherworldly display of power and danger. The heat was intense, but the darkness within it made it feel cold, and eerie, as if the fire itself was sentient. Then a whirlpool of flames which contained streaks of black appeared above her, sending heat all around and causing the nearby recruits to step back.


    The Overseer watched, impressed, his gaze lingering on the black flames as they intensified. He nodded slowly, his respect clear. "So, you''ve mastered the berserk transformation from the knowledge book you found. That¡¯s no easy feat, especially for someone of your level. You¡¯ve become proficient in harnessing the power within and created your own mana pool. I¡¯m impressed by your control¡ªboth over the fire and the darkness."


    Gloomeyes extinguished the flames, the heat dissipating into the air as quickly as it had come. She gave a curt nod and began her ascent. Isabella, standing in awe, felt a wave of inspiration wash over her. Seeing Gloomeyes¡¯ ascension fueled her own determination. She turned and made her way back to her room, her thoughts racing with the desire to one day ascend herself.

 Chapter 40: The Forgotten Apostle

    Chapter 40: The Forgotten Apostle


    The recruits huddled in the dark, hidden among the elaborate furniture and eerie decor of the ancient room. Their breaths were shallow, hearts pounding in their chests as the footsteps grew closer, their slow, deliberate rhythm heightening the suspense. Each soft step felt like a countdown, and Abel, crouched behind a dusty armchair, could barely control his nerves. His fingers gripped the edge of the chair, feeling the old fabric tremble slightly beneath his touch. In the silence, every rustle and breath felt magnified, as if they were being drawn into a dark vacuum.


    Then, abruptly, the footsteps stopped.


    Abel¡¯s pulse thundered in his ears, but he dared not move. The room was suffocatingly still. His eyes darted to his companions, and he could see their fear mirrored in their eyes. Lorne was gripping the hilt of his blade, his knuckles white, ready to act at a moment¡¯s notice. Alisa had her glowing stick tightly clutched, but even that faint light did little to ward off the overwhelming sense of dread.


    A raspy voice cut through the silence, like the sound of dry leaves crackling underfoot. It echoed throughout the room, hollow and eerie, carrying a mocking undertone that sent chills down Abel¡¯s spine.


    "Do you really think I can''t tell you''re here?" the voice rasped, low and threatening. "Do you think I''m an idiot, unable to sense when someone has invaded my living quarters?"


    The recruits froze, their breaths caught in their throats. Whoever this man was, he knew they were there all along.


    ¡°Come out,¡± the voice commanded, now even colder. ¡°Show yourselves, before I lose patience.¡±


    One by one, trembling and hesitant, they stepped out from their hiding places, their eyes scanning the shadows for the figure. Abel''s heart raced faster than ever as he moved from behind the chair, keeping Lorne in his peripheral vision for support.


    As the recruits assembled, Lorne was the first to speak, his voice cautious but steady, "We mean no harm. We''re recruits of the Stone Tower... we got lost and just want to return to the surface."


    For a moment, the figure said nothing, only moving closer. The air around them seemed to grow heavier with his presence. Then the voice spoke again, this time with a cryptic tone, like riddles sewn into his speech.


    ¡°Lost, are you?¡± the voice said, stepping into the faint light. A dark, hooded figure stood before them, his face obscured by shadow. ¡°You say you are not looking for trouble¡­ but trouble might have found you nonetheless.¡±


    His words sent shivers down their spines, the recruits instinctively taking a step back. The man turned, motioning for them to follow him deeper into the dark labyrinth of the room.


    "You will follow me," he said simply, "or you will never see the light of day again."


    The recruits walked in silence, their footsteps barely audible as they trailed behind the hooded figure. The oppressive darkness around them seemed to breathe, closing in with every step, and the air was thick with a stench of decay. The flickering lamps along the walls cast unsettling, shifting shadows, making the twisting corridors feel alive with an eerie, watchful presence.


    Abel¡¯s heartbeat pounded in his ears, his eyes darting to the others. Lorne kept his jaw clenched, his face hard, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. The others exchanged nervous glances, their fear palpable in the narrow space. No one spoke.


    As they moved deeper into the labyrinth, the hooded figure began to speak again, his voice now low and distant, but with an edge that hinted at something darker lurking beneath the surface. "I was once an Apostle of the Tower," he muttered, almost to himself, as if the words were an echo from a forgotten past. ¡°Once, long ago, I stood where those arrogant Gifted now stand. But the Tower... it does not reward those who strive from nothing. No. It abandons us, the ones without gifts.¡±


    The bitterness in his voice grew sharper with each word, and the recruits felt the tension rising. Abel¡¯s mouth was dry, but he dared not speak. He could feel the weight of the figure¡¯s past like a suffocating shroud around them.


    "I had a gift," the figure continued, his pace quickening as if spurred by the anger bubbling within him. "Not a Gifted¡¯s talent, but a true gift... of knowledge. But knowledge, my dear recruits, is not cherished by the Tower if you are not born with their magic. No, they cast you aside, mock you, abandon you in the shadows." He spat the last word, his voice trembling with a growing intensity.


    They turned a corner, and suddenly, the corridor opened into a larger room. The recruits stumbled to a halt, their eyes widening in shock. It was a laboratory, but not just any lab¡ªit was a macabre, ancient place, like something out of a twisted scholar''s nightmare. The stone walls were lined with shelves cluttered with ancient tomes, strange artifacts, and countless jars filled with grotesque specimens suspended in murky liquids. The soft gurgle of bubbling beakers filled the air, and the pungent scent of chemicals and decay mingled together, burning their nostrils.


    In the center of the room stood long, wooden tables covered with dusty, half-finished experiments¡ªalchemical devices, glass tubes, and flasks bubbling with unknown substances. The low, flickering light from several old lamps illuminated the scene, casting grotesque shadows that danced across the stone floor. It looked as though this lab had been untouched for centuries, but now someone had brought it back to life, refurbishing it, using it once more for dark and unspeakable experiments.


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    The hooded figure walked confidently through the room, his hand brushing over the equipment, almost lovingly. "This place," he said softly, "was once a sanctuary for those like me. A refuge from the arrogance of the Tower. The Black Alchemists, they called us¡ªlong forgotten, erased from history by the Gifted who feared what we could achieve."


    He turned to face the recruits, his hood still obscuring his face, but the madness in his voice was unmistakable. "But I have revived their work. I have taken it further than they ever could. Do you know why?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Because I don¡¯t have the curse of the Gifted holding me back."


    Abel¡¯s stomach churned, his eyes darting to the bubbling beakers and strange, writhing forms in the jars. He had never seen anything like it, and yet the sight filled him with a deep, primal fear.


    The hooded figure continued, his voice growing more manic with each word. "The Gifted are a disease, you see¡ªa plague upon the human race. They take their power for granted, never realizing that they are the very thing holding humanity back. And you... all of you... are free of that curse."


    The recruits stiffened at his words, fear creeping into their bones. The figure noticed their reactions and smiled beneath his hood, though none of them could see it. "Ah, yes, I see it now. You are all non-Gifted, aren¡¯t you? How fortunate. How perfect." His voice became a hiss, filled with sick pleasure. "You understand what it¡¯s like to be powerless. To be discarded. To be nothing."


    Lorne¡¯s voice, usually steady, cracked slightly as he asked, "What do you want from us?"


    The figure straightened, his tone turning to one of triumph. "I want to give you a gift, the gift of true power. My experiment¡ªit¡¯s almost complete. I have worked for years, refining the ancient knowledge of the Black Alchemists. Soon, non-Gifted humans like us will have a way to claim the power denied to us for so long. The power to eradicate the Gifted once and for all."


    Abel felt a chill run down his spine as the figure¡¯s words sank in. The recruits exchanged terrified glances. This man was insane, driven by a hatred that had consumed him entirely.


    "The experiment only needs a few... final ingredients," the figure continued, his voice lilting with an almost childlike excitement. "And that¡¯s where you come in."


    The recruits backed away instinctively, horror filling their faces. "What... what do you mean?" Alisa stammered, her voice shaking.


    The figure stepped toward them, his presence now overwhelming, like a suffocating weight pressing down on their chests. "You will help me complete my experiment, and in return, I will give you power beyond your wildest dreams. You will rise, stronger than any Gifted, and together, we will remake the world."


    His voice was now a twisted mix of zeal and madness. "Imagine it¡ªnon-Gifted ruling over the arrogant fools who have held us down for so long. The Gifted will be no more."


    The recruits were paralyzed with fear, their minds racing. Abel could barely comprehend what was happening, the weight of the situation crashing down on him like a wave. This man was a madman, consumed by his hatred of the Gifted, and now they were caught in his deranged plans.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded as he whispered to Lorne, "We have to get out of here."


    But before Lorne could respond, the hooded figure turned abruptly, leading them deeper into the lab. "Come now," he said with eerie calmness, "there¡¯s no need to fear. You¡¯ll see soon enough. Once the experiment is complete, you¡¯ll thank me. You¡¯ll all thank me."


    As they followed, trapped in this nightmarish situation, Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were descending into something far worse than they could ever have imagined.


    ¡°I worked hard to overcome my hurdles as a non-gifted,¡± the man said, his raspy voice a haunting echo. ¡°I survived... but I found something more. Something that will propel me far beyond the limits of what any Apostle could ever dream of.¡±


    Suddenly, the man stopped and lifted his arm, exposing his forearm. The sight of it made Abel''s stomach turn¡ªan extra, twisted finger jutted from the man''s hand. It looked unnatural, almost demonic, as if it didn¡¯t belong to him. The finger twitched, and the recruits couldn¡¯t hide their revulsion.


    ¡°I discovered this,¡± he whispered, his voice filled with eerie pride. ¡°A discovery that will make me something far greater than an Apostle. A Magian.¡±


    The term was unfamiliar to the recruits, but they didn¡¯t dare ask. The man¡¯s presence was too terrifying, too unstable. Lorne clenched his jaw but said nothing, his eyes fixed on the figure''s malformed hand.


    They continued to follow him in tense silence, deeper into the belly of the labyrinth. Abel¡¯s mind was racing. What kind of power did this man wield? What was he planning? His gut screamed danger, but he knew there was no turning back now.


    The man led them through a heavy stone door, opening into a nightmarish lab. Green, bubbling liquid filled large glass tubes that lined the walls, casting an eerie glow over the room. The walls were adorned with ancient symbols and strange, grotesque objects¡ªsome of which looked like they had been pulled from a nightmare. Above the tubes, hanging in iron chains, were strange artifacts and organic objects that pulsed with unnatural energy.


    The man turned to face them, his hood falling away to reveal his full visage. His face was horrifying¡ªcovered in cysts, with yellow pus oozing from them. His eyes were sunken, dark bags heavy beneath them, and his dry, cracked lips bled slightly as he grinned at them.


    ¡°I need your assistance to achieve my breakthrough,¡± he rasped, his voice full of deranged enthusiasm. ¡°Afterwards, I will set you free.¡±


    The recruits felt their hearts sink, the ominous green light from the tubes casting sickly shadows across their faces. Abel looked at the others; they were equally terrified, the hope of survival slipping away.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask the Tower for help?¡± one of the recruits stammered, her voice shaky.


    The man¡¯s grin widened, his lips splitting further as blood trickled down his chin. He didn¡¯t answer the question. Instead, he stepped closer to them, his gaze locking onto Abel.


    ¡°You are here now,¡± the man whispered. ¡°Fate has brought you to me. And you will help me¡ªwhether you want to or not.¡±


    Abel¡¯s skin crawled as the deranged figure raised his hand, revealing the extra, twisted finger once more. The room around them hummed with dark energy, and the air became thick with tension. They knew that promises of power without any repercussions were impossible things, and something that the Tower always highlighted in class.


    They were trapped.

 Chapter 41: The Madmans Experiment

    Chapter 41: The Madman''s Experiment


    The man¡¯s raspy voice reverberated through the damp, suffocating lab, each word laced with venom and madness as he paced around, his wild eyes glinting in the eerie green glow of the bubbling tanks. The recruits stood frozen, paralyzed with fear, their eyes wide and frantic as they struggled to process the man''s twisted words. His malice hung in the air like a blade, ready to fall.


    ¡°It¡¯s been so long,¡± the man hissed, his voice a deranged whisper that cut through the silence like a knife. ¡°So long since I realized the truth. The Towers care nothing for the non-gifted. We are expendable. Disposable. But I... I found a way to survive. To fight back!¡±


    His manic grin widened as he gestured toward the grotesque tubes lining the walls, each one filled with a viscous green liquid that bubbled ominously. The flickering light from the tanks cast unsettling shadows on his face, making his already twisted features look monstrous. The tanks seemed to pulse with a strange life of their own, as though the horrors trapped inside were still struggling to break free.


    ¡°I will raise the non-gifted above the rest! I will kill the gifted! I will make the Towers pay for their arrogance!¡± His words were filled with a fervor so intense that it made the recruits shudder. His hatred, festering for years, was now fully unhinged, and it felt like they were standing in the presence of something far worse than a simple madman.


    Abel swallowed hard, glancing at the others. The same fear that gripped him was evident on their faces. They had stumbled into a nightmare with no way out.


    The man paused, his wild, bloodshot eyes locking onto them. His voice turned mocking, as if he were relishing the fear in their eyes. ¡°You¡¯re wondering what I need from you, aren¡¯t you?¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°These tanks¡­ they hold the essence of horrors¡ªtraits I¡¯ve gathered from ancient creatures that roamed this world long before you were born. Traits I intend to harness for my breakthrough into a Magian.¡±


    Abel¡¯s breath caught in his throat. Horrors? Magian? The man¡¯s words barely made sense, but the weight of them was terrifying. Horrors were creatures far beyond anything they could face¡ªand this man claimed to have captured their essence. Abel¡¯s skin crawled at the thought.


    One of the recruits, barely keeping their voice steady, asked, ¡°What... what do you want us to do?¡±


    The man¡¯s grotesque smile widened further, stretching unnaturally across his face. His lips cracked, and blood oozed from the corners of his mouth. ¡°You¡¯ll help me contain them,¡± he rasped.


    The recruits exchanged fearful glances, their confusion turning to dread. Abel¡¯s heart raced as his mind spun, trying to comprehend what the man meant. Contain them? How could they possibly contain the essence of horrors? The man¡¯s explanations were full of madness, and yet, the danger was real.


    ¡°Get into the tanks,¡± the man growled impatiently, stepping toward an ancient black chair that stood ominously in the center of the room. It was carved from dark stone, its gothic design twisted and unnatural. Spiked edges protruded from the armrests, and strange symbols were etched into the backrest, glowing faintly in the dim light. The chair looked more like a throne for some forgotten king of nightmares than anything meant for a human. ¡°And find out,¡± the man added, his tone filled with malicious glee.


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    Lorne, who had been standing quietly at the back, clenched his fists in rage. His anger boiled over, and without thinking, he lunged forward with a roar of defiance. His serrated blade gleamed in the green light as he charged the madman, his shout echoing through the chamber.


    It was over in an instant.


    The man moved with impossible speed, his figure a blur. Before Lorne could even react, the man¡¯s grotesque finger¡ªthe one that didn¡¯t belong, the one twisted and malformed¡ªshot forward, piercing Lorne¡¯s skull with a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed from the wound as the finger drove through his head and exited the other side.


    Lorne¡¯s eyes went wide with shock, a gurgled sound escaping his lips as his body crumpled to the floor. His lifeless form hit the stone with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath him.


    Abel¡¯s stomach turned, and his vision blurred as nausea welled up inside him. He felt his knees weaken, barely able to process the horror he had just witnessed. Lorne¡­ was dead. Just like that. Gone.


    The man wiped his finger on his robe, completely unfazed, as if killing Lorne had been no more than swatting a fly. His patience was gone, his expression turning cold and cruel. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± he snarled. ¡°Move. Now. Or you¡¯ll end up like your friend here.¡±


    The recruits stumbled forward, their legs moving on instinct alone. Fear gripped them, making every step feel like they were walking toward their doom. Abel¡¯s mind was in turmoil, his thoughts spiraling out of control. Are we all going to die here? he wondered, his heart pounding wildly.


    As they approached the tanks, Abel¡¯s gaze was drawn to the one directly in front of him. The green ooze inside bubbled and swirled, but something else caught his eye¡ªa faint, glittering light within the liquid, shimmering like distant stars. It was as if the essence of whatever horror had been captured inside was trying to break free, its malevolent power barely contained.


    Each tank had its own unique hue. Some were tinged with a deep purple, others with a sickly yellow, and one even flickered with strange red sparks. These weren¡¯t just random horrors¡ªthe man had collected their essence, each one a different nightmare, and now he wanted the recruits to step into them.


    Abel¡¯s hand trembled as he reached out and touched the cold glass of the tank. The surface was slick and unyielding, but the liquid inside pulsed with a terrifying energy. His stomach twisted in fear as he realized he was about to step inside something that could consume him entirely.


    The man¡¯s twisted smile grew wider as he watched them. ¡°Yes... yes, that¡¯s right. Get inside,¡± he crooned. ¡°You¡¯ll help me unlock a power far beyond your comprehension.¡±


    Abel swallowed hard, glancing at the others. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with terror. They were all thinking the same thing¡ªthere was no way out. No escape. They were trapped in this nightmare, and their only choice was to follow the madman¡¯s orders... or die.


    The room was filled with the oppressive hum of the bubbling tanks, the scent of chemicals and decay thick in the air. The black chair loomed in the center, casting a dark shadow over everything. The air seemed to thrum with malevolence, as if the very essence of the horrors was seeping into the room, waiting for the moment it would consume them all.


    Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath and prepared to step into the tank. He knew that whatever awaited him inside could be far worse than death¡ªbut with Lorne¡¯s blood still fresh on the floor, he knew he had no choice.

 Chapter 42: Luck and Madness

    Chapter 42: Luck and Madness


    The recruits¡¯ fear mounted with every passing second. The air in the strange lab was thick with tension, and the low hum of bubbling green liquid was their only companion. Abel¡¯s breathing was shallow, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to steady himself. The deranged man before them seemed almost gleeful in his madness, pacing erratically, oblivious to how close to disaster they truly were.


    His overconfidence was clear¡ªeach step exaggerated, his voice dripping with self-assurance. He muttered to himself, his rasping voice filling the room with fragmented sentences, disconnected thoughts, and wild ambitions. His robes, stained and tattered, hung loosely from his gaunt figure. Every time he turned, the recruits caught sight of his hideous, cyst-covered face, his sagging flesh oozing with pus.


    "Ah... yes," the man mumbled, rubbing his chin with a grotesque, extra finger protruding from his hand. ¡°You¡¯ll see, you¡¯ll all see... soon enough, I¡¯ll transcend... become more than any of you ever dreamed... Magian... Magian, yes, that¡¯s what I¡¯ll be.¡±


    His words made no sense to Abel, but there was no doubt this man had lost his grip on reality long ago. His sheer disregard for caution was terrifying. Despite the tension in the room, something about how carelessly he treated the situation¡ªlike nothing could stop him¡ªmade it clear how deeply consumed he was by his twisted scheme. His arrogance blinded him to details that any sane person would never overlook.


    The man¡¯s grin widened, his voice taking on a disturbing, sing-song quality as he gestured toward the tanks. ¡°Into the tanks... into the tanks, yes... don¡¯t be shy now. It¡¯s your fate, after all,¡± he chuckled darkly, stepping forward as if the horror of what was about to happen was beneath his notice. ¡°You should be honored... to be part of something... so grand.¡±


    The recruits exchanged terrified glances. Their faces were pale, but they knew they had no choice. Lorne¡¯s body lay crumpled on the ground, blood pooling around him, and none of them could afford to resist after what they had seen. Abel¡¯s fingers trembled as he approached one of the tanks, struggling to suppress the rising panic. The green liquid inside the tanks seemed alive, swirling, bubbling as though it was waiting to devour them whole.


    Abel climbed to the top of the tank, the cold metal biting into his skin as he hesitated, staring down into the strange liquid. It moved as if it sensed him, as if it knew. Faintly, within the depths of the green fluid, he saw a soft, glittering light¡ªlike starlight trapped in the swirling liquid. There was something ancient and malevolent in the fluid, but the deranged man was too consumed by his ambitions to notice the danger. It was as if he had gone too far, lost in his twisted thoughts, unable to distinguish fantasy from reality.


    ¡°Come on now, don¡¯t keep it waiting!¡± the man rasped, impatience creeping into his voice. He turned his back on Abel, too confident, too sure of his success. Abel¡¯s foot slipped into the liquid, and he winced as the icy coldness shot up his leg.


    The room descended into chaos. The eerie green liquid bubbled and swirled within the tanks as Abel and the other recruits entered, paralyzed with fear. The deranged figure continued pacing, his malformed face twisted in triumph, his voice rising in a mad chant. Dark whispers echoed throughout the chamber, and the shadows themselves seemed to move, writhing and twisting as though they were alive. Abel¡¯s heart shook, his mind racing to make sense of what was happening. The man¡¯s overconfidence was terrifying, but now it seemed as though something far worse was looming.


    As the liquid churned violently in the tanks, Abel felt a surge of unnatural energy course through him. It was as if the very essence of the horrors contained in the tubes was fusing with him. His vision blurred, his muscles tensed uncontrollably, and the cold spread through him, deeper and more chilling than anything he had felt before. The other recruits'' faces twisted with fear and confusion as they, too, underwent the transformation. as they were slowly losing consciousness in the green liquid.


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    The man reveled in the chaos, his body convulsing as he absorbed power from the twisted throne-like chair in the center of the room. His eyes glowed with an unholy light as he threw his head back, laughing maniacally. "Yes... yes! The power... it¡¯s mine!" he screamed, his voice thick with madness as a dark aura swirled toward him, entering his body and filling him with power. The room trembled, the very walls vibrating as though reality itself was bending under the weight of his unnatural transformation. Shadows swirled more violently, and Abel felt the crushing weight of dark magic pressing down on him¡ªsuffocating, relentless.


    But then, just as the man seemed on the verge of completing his breakthrough, the door to the chamber burst open.


    Nando stumbled into the room, his face tense but determined. He had been following the deranged man¡¯s movements since discovering these ruins, guided by rumors of the Black Alchemists. His search had taken him across dangerous terrain, through forgotten passages, and into a massive, overgrown well that led to this forsaken underground lab. He had spent hours clawing his way down the stone walls of the well, his hands bloody from the effort, driven by the intrigue of what lay beneath.


    When he had seen Abel and the others dragged into this strange lab, he knew something far darker than treasure was at play. Luck had been his only ally. Before entering the room, Nando had performed a Luck Ritual, hoping it would tip the odds in his favor. He wasn¡¯t strong¡ªcertainly not enough to face the deranged figure head-on¡ªbut he had relied on chance. And now, seeing Abel and the others trapped in these horrific experiments, he knew he had to act.


    The moment Nando entered, the man faltered. His attention snapped away from the recruits. The shadows flickered, the power swirling around him stuttered, and confusion crossed his face.


    ¡°No! You... you can¡¯t interrupt this!¡± the man screeched, his body trembling with fury as he felt control slipping from his grasp. He struggled to rise from his chair, but it was as if gravity itself held him down, as though the dark energy still clung to him, forcing him into submission.


    Nando moved without hesitation. He lunged toward one of the tanks, his hands glowing faintly silver from the silver ring artifact he wore, feeling confidence guide him after activating the Luck Ritual. His movements were precise, almost instinctive, as he struck the delicate machinery. With a sharp crack, the first tube shattered, spilling green liquid across the floor and freeing one of the trapped recruits.


    The backlash hit the deranged man like a hammer. He screamed, his body convulsing violently as the dark magic he had been absorbing lashed out at him. His face contorted in agony, his hands clutching at his chest as the power that had once promised transcendence now tore him apart. Blood poured from his mouth, and the shadows around him turned against him, the whispers that had once fueled his ambitions now growing louder, more frenzied.


    "You... fool! You¡¯ve ruined everything!" the man screamed, his voice full of fury and pain as he fought against the power consuming him.


    Ignoring the man¡¯s cries, Nando rushed to the next tank, smashing it open and freeing Sena, who collapsed into a pool of green ooze, gasping for air, barely conscious. Nando hurried to Abel¡¯s tank, his heart racing as he slammed his fist into the control mechanism. The tube shattered, and Abel tumbled to the ground, drenched in the strange liquid, his body wracked with pain as he tried to claw his way back to consciousness.


    The deranged man, now on his knees, let out a final, agonized scream as the shadows consumed him entirely. His body crumpled in on itself, dissolving into a blackened mass of ooze and filth. The dark energy that had fueled him now devoured him from the inside out, leaving nothing but a twisted, grotesque pile in his place.


    The room fell silent, save for the dripping of green liquid from the shattered tanks. Nando stood amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily, his eyes scanning the fallen recruits.


    Abel groaned, pushing himself up, his mind still foggy from whatever transformation had begun inside him. He looked around, his heart still pounding as he tried to make sense of the chaos. "Nando...?" Abel croaked, his voice weak and full of confusion. "What... what are you doing here?"


    Nando, still catching his breath, knelt beside Abel and helped him sit up. "I¡¯ve been looking into the history of the Black Alchemists and never thought I¡¯d stumble upon Fiendfinger," he explained, his voice low and tense. ¡°I came here searching for treasure or knowledge... but when I saw what was happening, I couldn¡¯t just let him complete whatever twisted experiment he was trying to do.¡±


    Sena, still dazed from his own experience, managed to crawl over to them, his face pale. ¡°You... you used the Luck Ritual?¡± he asked, his voice barely a whisper.


    Nando finally let out a shaky laugh. "I can¡¯t believe it worked."


    Abel and Sena exchanged a weary glance, both too weak to fully comprehend what had just happened. They were alive

 Chapter 43: Crumbling Ruins

    Chapter 43: Crumbling Ruins


    Abel''s vision was still hazy as he pushed himself up from the pool of green goo. His limbs felt heavy, almost as if they didn''t belong to him anymore. A strange tingling sensation coursed through his veins, a subtle reminder of the transformation that had occurred. He wasn¡¯t sure what it meant, but he knew he was different now¡ªchanged in some fundamental way. His robe, drenched in the strange liquid, began to clean itself as if the green goo was being absorbed and washed away by the fabric.


    Sena groaned beside him, trying to shake off the disorientation. Abel caught his eye, and both recruits exchanged a look of exhaustion and uncertainty. They were alive, but they had no idea what had just been done to them.


    ¡°Get it together!¡± Nando¡¯s voice cut through the confusion, sharp and urgent. He was already gathering anything useful he could find, stuffing papers, books, and strange artifacts into his pack. The room was shaking violently now, dust and debris falling from the ceiling with each tremor. ¡°This place is coming down! Grab everything you can, but hurry!¡±


    Abel blinked, snapping back to the present moment. The walls groaned under the weight of the crumbling ruin, and bits of the ceiling began to collapse around them. He forced himself to his feet, the strange tingling still dancing under his skin as he moved. His instincts took over as he began to grab anything that seemed useful¡ª due to his disorientation, he was unable to grab as much as he wanted grabbing a few things instead..


    Despite the panic rising in his chest, Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong inside him. The green goo had seeped into him, leaving behind a residue of power that both intrigued and terrified him. What had that deranged man done to them? And what had Abel become?


    The ruins shook harder, large chunks of stone falling from above and smashing into the floor with deafening crashes. The dark whispers that had once filled the room were now silent, but the oppressive energy lingered in the air, suffocating and heavy.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Nando urged, his eyes darting around the room as he made his way toward the exit. ¡°I know a way out, but we need to move. Now!¡±


    Abel stumbled toward Nando, clutching his last handful of papers as the room shook violently. Sena followed closely behind, looking just as rattled as Abel felt. The ceiling was beginning to collapse in earnest now, each tremor bringing more of the ancient ruin crashing down around them. There was no time left.


    Together, they rushed through the crumbling corridors of the ruin, following Nando as he led them deeper into the labyrinth of the underground. The walls were slick with moss and grime, and the floor trembled beneath their feet with every step they took. The strange tingling sensation within Abel¡¯s body grew stronger as they moved, but he didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it. Survival was all that mattered now.


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    Finally, they reached a room where a large hole had been blown into the wall, revealing the night sky outside. Vines stretched down from the broken wall, leading toward a well overgrown with thick foliage.


    ¡°There! We climb out through there!¡± Nando shouted, his voice barely audible over the sound of the collapsing ruin behind them. Without hesitation, he grabbed onto one of the vines and began to scale it, his movements quick and fluid despite the chaos.


    Abel and Sena exchanged a glance before following, gripping the vines tightly as they climbed toward the surface. The vines were slick and rough, but they held fast as the recruits pulled themselves up, their muscles aching with effort. Behind them, the ruin continued to collapse, the sound of stone crumbling filling the air like distant thunder.


    After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the top of the well, pulling themselves out onto the grass of the Stony Forest. Abel collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving as he gulped down the cool night air. The relief of being back on solid ground was overwhelming, and for a brief moment, all he could do was lie there, staring up at the sky.


    The forest around them was dark and foreboding, the tall, twisted trees casting long shadows in the moonlight. Strange noises echoed in the distance¡ªrustling leaves, far-off growls¡ªbut for now, the recruits were safe. The danger had passed.


    Sena lay beside Abel, his breath ragged as he tried to regain his composure. ¡°We... we owe you, Nando,¡± he muttered, still dazed from the ordeal. ¡°You saved us.¡±


    Nando, who was standing a few paces away, only shrugged, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± he said, his tone casual despite the gravity of what had just happened. ¡°I got what I wanted, too.¡±


    Abel turned his head to look at Nando, noticing the bulging pack slung over his shoulder. ¡°What... were you even doing down there?¡± he asked, still struggling to piece everything together.


    Nando grinned, clearly pleased with himself. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking into the history of the Black Alchemists. I figured there might be some treasure or knowledge buried in their ruins, and when I saw that deranged guy leading you all down there, I figured I¡¯d follow and see what I could find.¡±


    ¡°So you saved us for... treasure?¡± Sena asked, his voice laced with disbelief.


    ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t just going to let him complete whatever twisted experiment he was doing,¡± Nando said with a smirk. ¡°But yeah, I found what I was looking for. And then some.¡±


    Abel couldn¡¯t help but shake his head in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡±


    Nando just laughed, adjusting the strap of his pack. ¡°Maybe. But it worked out, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    As the three of them sat in the grass, catching their breath, the weight of what had just happened began to sink in. The dark ruins, the twisted experiments, the strange changes they had undergone¡ªit was all too much to process. But they couldn¡¯t stay there forever. Night had fallen, and the forest around them was alive with danger.


    ¡°We should get back,¡± Nando said, breaking the silence. ¡°It¡¯s too dark out here, and who knows what else is lurking in these woods.¡±


    Abel and Sena nodded in agreement, slowly pushing themselves to their feet. Their bodies ached, their minds were still reeling, but they had survived. And now, they had to make it back to the Stone Tower, whatever changes had taken hold of them in that dark ruin left to unravel in time.


    They began the long trek back through the forest, the weight of their strange new reality hanging over them like a shadow.

 Chapter 44: Strangeness

    Chapter 44:  Strangeness


    The recruits trudged back through the Stony Forest, the night pressing in on them like a living thing. The trees, tall and ancient, swayed gently in the breeze, their branches creaking and groaning as if they whispered secrets to one another. Normally, walking through this forest at night would have terrified Abel, but something felt different now.


    Though the shadows seemed darker than before and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures raised the hairs on the back of his neck, Abel felt an odd sense of security. It wasn¡¯t that the forest had grown any less eerie¡ªin fact, its twisting, jagged trees and the way the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet still unsettled him. But now, after everything they had been through, the presence of the Stone Tower¡¯s influence reassured him.


    They were still within its protective reach.


    The others must have felt it too. Even though they were tired and shaken, there was no panic, no rushing like there might have been under other circumstances. They walked with measured steps, their eyes adjusting to the dim light that barely trickled through the canopy of the dense forest. The fog hung low to the ground, swirling lazily around their feet like a living thing.


    Abel glanced at Nando, who was leading the group with his confident strides. He hadn¡¯t said much since they left the ruins, but Abel could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, as though Nando¡¯s mind was more on what he¡¯d gained than the danger they had barely escaped. Sena, on the other hand, looked pale, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. Something was clearly wrong with him, but Sena said nothing and continued walking.


    The soft hoot of a distant owl echoed through the forest, adding to the eerie atmosphere, but it was familiar. This place, for all its creeping shadows and lurking dangers, was part of the Stone Tower¡¯s territory. Abel knew that within these boundaries, they were relatively safe¡ªsafer than they would be outside the tower¡¯s influence, anyway.


    They pushed forward, the towering silhouette of the Stone Tower eventually coming into view, looming like a silent guardian in the distance. Its walls glowed faintly, imbued with the protective magic of the tower, casting long shadows that stretched out toward them like fingers.


    Finally, they reached the entrance, exhausted and drenched in sweat. They had made it. The relief was short-lived, however, as a figure stepped out from the shadows to greet them.


    Glandel.


    He stood there, his eyes cold and sharp, arms crossed over his chest. His presence was unnerving, and though he was not the largest man, there was something about him that commanded attention and demanded respect. His sharp gaze swept over the group, taking in their disheveled appearance and the items they carried.


    ¡°Where were you?¡± Glandel asked, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for evasion. Although it felt like a few hours due to the high suspense, they were trapped in that ruin for over a day.


    The recruits hesitated for a moment, exchanging uneasy glances before Nando stepped forward, speaking on behalf of the group. ¡°We were on a task with Cloudbreaker... to assist in his breakthrough,¡± he began, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°But something went wrong. He... didn¡¯t make it.¡±


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    Glandel¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly but gave no indication of surprise. "Go on," he said, motioning for them to continue.


    Abel cleared his throat and added, "After Cloudbreaker died, we stumbled upon some ruins... deep underground. We had no choice but to hide there, but inside... there was a man. We later identified him as FiendFinger. He... he tried to use us in some sort of experiment.¡±


    Glandel¡¯s expression remained unreadable, though his eyes flickered briefly with what might have been recognition. "FiendFinger, you say?" His gaze shifted to Nando, who had been quiet until now. "And how did you all escape?"


    Nando stepped forward, his voice calm and measured. ¡°I¡¯d been searching for information on the Black Alchemists and happened to follow them down there. When I realized what was happening, I... intervened and interrupted the breakthrough causing a backlash of magic to kill Fiendfinger.¡± He shrugged slightly as if it were no big deal.


    Glandel studied them all for a long moment, then nodded. "I see. The ruins... were they destroyed?"


    "Mostly," Abel answered. "The place collapsed after we escaped."


    Another pause, then Glandel¡¯s eyes softened ever so slightly. "Return to your rooms. I¡¯ll report this to the higher-ups. And don¡¯t speak of this to anyone else until I have more information." His tone carried an unspoken warning.


    Without another word, they nodded and headed for their rooms, too drained to process much of what had just happened.


    ¡­


    Abel entered his room and immediately dumped everything he had gathered onto the small table. His hands shook as he pulled out the items from his robe: an old booklet filled with strange, cryptic writings, a thin research paper theorizing the existence of something called the Demonic Realm, and a handful of other odd trinkets that seemed to hum with faint magic.


    He couldn¡¯t shake the tingling sensation still crawling under his skin. The strange green liquid... whatever it was, had done something to him. He felt different¡ªchanged in a way he couldn¡¯t yet explain. His mind was racing, but his body ached for rest.


    His gaze fell on the booklet, the cover worn and faded. It bore a strange symbol¡ªone that sent a shiver down his spine. He opened it to the first page and quickly realized it was a catalog of horrors¡ªdetailed notes on the creatures FiendFinger had experimented with. Abel¡¯s stomach churned as he skimmed through the pages, each entry more grotesque than the last.


    Feeling the weight of exhaustion pull him down, he shoved the papers aside and collapsed onto his bed. He hoped that sleep would help calm the strange feeling inside of him, but as he closed his eyes, the images from the ruins¡ªLorne¡¯s death, FiendFinger¡¯s grotesque face, and the bubbling green liquid¡ªhaunted his thoughts.


    ¡­


    In another part of the tower, Sena had barely made it to his room. The moment he shut the door, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, his vision blurring. His body felt heavy, as if the very energy had been drained from him. He staggered to his bed and collapsed, too weak to even change out of his clothes. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his head pounded with a dull ache that spread throughout his body.


    Something was wrong.


    The cold, creeping sensation that had settled in his bones back in the ruins hadn¡¯t faded¡ªit had grown worse. Sena tried to fight the growing fatigue, but his body refused to cooperate. Within minutes, he had succumbed to sleep, though his rest was far from peaceful.


    In the stillness of the night, as both Abel and Sena lay unconscious in their beds, the remnants of FiendFinger¡¯s twisted experiments began to stir within them.

 Chapter 45: Containing Horrors

    Chapter 45:  Containing Horrors


    Abel''s eyes snapped open, his breath hitching in his throat as the remnants of the dream clung to his mind like a thick fog. His heart pounded violently in his chest, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. The air in his room felt heavy, stifling¡ªlike something unseen was pressing down on him. He had dreamt of the lab again. The dark green liquid, the writhing shadows, and the horrific, distorted faces of the horrors. But this time, there was something more¡ªa sense of vastness, of cosmic hunger.


    In the dream, he had gained fragmented memories of a horror that went by Star Eater¡ªan incomprehensible being of the void, devouring entire stars with its monstrous maw, its form barely distinguishable from the darkness that surrounded it. He could still feel its presence, a deep, gnawing hunger lingering inside him. Abel sat up, running a hand through his damp hair, his fingertips cold to the touch. He tried to shake off the unsettling feeling, but it lingered, wrapping around his thoughts like a web.


    His reflection in the window caught his attention. The dim light cast strange shadows on his face, making his features appear gaunt and hollow. His eyes¡ªhe squinted, stepping closer¡ªwere not the same. For just a fleeting moment, they shimmered with a faint, distant glow. It was almost like the light of stars, but hollow and unsettling, as if they were being consumed from within.


    "What... what is happening to me?" he whispered to himself, staring at his reflection, but no answer came¡ªonly the echo of his own voice in the still room. He could feel it, though. Deep inside, something was changing, and he was terrified of what it might mean.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Sena was struggling just as much. The moment he entered his room, an overwhelming sense of fatigue had washed over him. His muscles felt heavy, as though each step required tremendous effort. A dull ache pulsed through his body, and every breath felt labored. He collapsed onto his bed, his head swimming with dizziness. His hands trembled as he reached for the edge of the bed, trying to steady himself, but it was useless. He felt... off. Wrong.


    His skin, usually warm, was cold to the touch, yet he felt an unbearable heat coursing through his veins, as though an ember had been ignited deep within him. His vision blurred, and in the dim light of his room, he thought he saw smoke¡ªjust a wisp¡ªrising from his hands.


    "Am I... burning?" Sena rasped, his voice hoarse.


    He pulled up his sleeve, and to his horror, he saw it¡ªhis skin was changing. It was faint, but beneath the surface, his flesh had begun to take on the texture of thick, tough hide. For a split second, he thought he saw the faint outline of dark, ember-like veins crisscrossing his arms, glowing faintly beneath the skin, as if his blood had been replaced with molten fire.


    He kept losing consciousness and having strange dreams involving a Devilish Bull. The memory of the horror surged back into his mind¡ªits fiery eyes, the massive horns wreathed in black flames, and the way it seemed to breathe destruction. He had been infused with its essence, and now, that power was settling in within himself.


    "Dammit..." Sena mumbled weakly, collapsing back onto the bed. "Something¡¯s... happening to me."


    ¡­


    Abel knew something was wrong, and his instincts told him that Sena was likely going through the same thing. Without wasting a moment, he rushed to Sena¡¯s room, the cold, gnawing sensation in his own body growing stronger with each step. When he opened the door, the sight that greeted him was far worse than he expected.


    Sena lay slumped on his bed, his skin slick with sweat, his breath shallow and uneven. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, trembling as though he was in the grip of some unseen force. Abel noticed the faint shimmer on Sena¡¯s skin¡ªthe same dark, ember-like veins that pulsed beneath the surface, glowing faintly like dying embers in a forge.


    ¡°Sena!¡± Abel rushed to his side, shaking him gently. ¡°Sena, can you hear me?¡±


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    Sena¡¯s eyes fluttered open, his pupils dilating before narrowing into slits. He looked up at Abel, but there was a strange gleam in his gaze¡ªsomething wild and primal. Abel could feel the heat radiating off his friend¡¯s body, the air around him heavy with the scent of smoke and charred earth.


    ¡°It¡¯s... it¡¯s inside me,¡± Sena gasped. ¡°The Devilish Bull... I feel it... burning...¡±


    Abel recoiled slightly. It was the same for him¡ªthe Star Eater. He could still feel that insatiable hunger, gnawing at him, whispering in the back of his mind. It wanted to consume, to devour everything. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the rising panic. He couldn¡¯t let it take control.


    ¡°I¡¯m going through it too,¡± Abel said quietly, his voice trembling. ¡°The Star Eater. I don¡¯t know what it did to me, but... we need to figure this out. Ever since the experiment and my dreams¡­ This name has been embedded into my mind.¡±


    Just as they were trying to make sense of their shared transformation, a soft knock sounded on the door, startling them both. Before either could respond, the door creaked open, revealing Nando, his face drawn with concern as he stepped into the dimly lit room.


    "Are you two okay?" Nando asked, his voice steady but low. His eyes scanned over Abel and Sena, taking in their disheveled appearances and the faint, unnatural glow in their eyes.


    Abel hesitated, glancing at Sena before speaking. "We... we''re having strange dreams," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Ever since the experiment... Something feels wrong. It¡¯s like there¡¯s this... presence inside of me. It¡¯s not just the dreams, it¡¯s... physical. I feel it changing me."


    Sena nodded, still lying back on his bed, his breath shallow but more controlled now. "The Devilish Bull... it''s in me too. I can feel the power, but I can¡¯t control it. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening."


    Nando''s expression darkened as he shut the door behind him, his footsteps quiet as he approached them. "It¡¯s part of the experiment," he said grimly. "FiendFinger didn¡¯t just plan on fusing those horror characteristics with you¡ªhe was trying to extract them into himself. That¡¯s what the ritual was for. He wanted to harness the power of those horrors, but... when I interrupted him, it seemed like the process backfired. The characteristics stayed with you instead."


    Abel and Sena stared at him, wide-eyed. "What does that mean for us?" Abel asked, his voice barely a whisper.


    Nando crossed his arms, his face thoughtful. "It means you''re going to be dealing with this for a while. The dreams, the symptoms¡ªthey''re part of the process. The characteristics are trying to settle within you, but you¡¯re not just passive vessels. You have to understand these dreams, understand the power that¡¯s trying to manifest. If you can tame it, control it... you''ll be stronger than ever before."


    Sena groaned, sitting up on the edge of the bed, still holding his head in his hands. "You make it sound so easy," he muttered. "But what if we can¡¯t control it? What if... it takes over?"


    Nando shook his head, his voice firm. "It¡¯s dangerous, yes. But this is also an opportunity. The power you¡¯ve been given is far beyond what most could dream of. If you can survive this... you¡¯ll be on a whole new level. The horrors are ancient, primal forces¡ªif you can harness their power, you¡¯ll be unstoppable."


    Abel¡¯s heart raced at the thought, the gnawing hunger inside him still whispering in the back of his mind. The Star Eater. It wanted to consume everything, to devour all in its path. Could he control that? Could he truly tame something so vast and terrifying?


    Nando¡¯s gaze softened slightly. "But you have to be careful. These characteristics... they¡¯re not just power. They have a will of their own. If you let them, they¡¯ll take control. That¡¯s why the dreams are important. They¡¯re your key to understanding what you¡¯re dealing with."


    Abel and Sena exchanged a glance, their fear still palpable but now laced with something else¡ªdetermination.


    Abel clenched his fists. "So, we have to fight back, learn from these dreams, and take control."


    Nando nodded. "Exactly. If you don¡¯t, the characteristics will overwhelm you, and you¡¯ll lose yourself in the process." He glanced toward the door, his expression tense. "For now, rest. Gather your strength. I¡¯ll help you with what I can, but the hard part... that¡¯s on you."


    With that, he left the room, leaving Abel and Sena alone once again. The unsettling silence crept back in, but this time, it felt different. It wasn¡¯t just fear anymore. There was a flicker of hope.


    Abel sighed, lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "We have to figure this out," he murmured, his thoughts still on the Star Eater.


    Sena grunted in agreement, staring at his hands, the ember-like veins still faintly glowing beneath his skin. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Before it¡¯s too late."


    And so, they sat there, knowing that the real battle had just begun¡ªthe battle to tame the horrors inside them

 Chapter 46: Wishing Upon a Star

    Chapter 46: Wishing Upon a Star


    Abel made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the Stone Tower, his steps heavy with fatigue. His mind was restless, still haunted by the unsettling hunger gnawing at him since his escape from the ruins. His thoughts kept drifting back to the strange dreams, the unnerving memories of the Star Eater, and the hollow feeling in his stomach that food couldn''t satisfy.


    He reached the entrance to the library, its tall doors looming before him, and pushed them open. The familiar scent of ancient parchment and leather greeted him, mixed with the warmth of candlelight. Marcella was at her usual place behind the desk, her sharp eyes immediately catching Abel¡¯s troubled expression as he approached.


    "Marcella," he began, his voice low and uncertain, "I¡¯ve been feeling... strange ever since I came back from the ruins."


    Her eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him. "Strange how, Abel? Elaborate."


    He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I¡¯ve been having strange dreams...I''ve been getting cold sweats. And I¡¯ve been feeling this... hunger. It¡¯s not normal. No matter what I eat, it doesn¡¯t go away. It¡¯s like I¡¯m starving, but not for food."


    Marcella¡¯s expression grew stern. She leaned forward, her hands clasped on the desk. "Were you part of the group that discovered the ruins?"


    Abel nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him.


    "You¡¯ve been careless, Abel," Marcella said, her voice laced with both concern and disappointment. "Those ruins are dangerous for a reason. There are things in this world far older and more powerful than any of us can comprehend, and you walked right into their domain. You came out alive this time, but you might not be so lucky next time."


    "I understand," Abel replied, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn¡¯t know how dangerous it was until it was too late. I¡¯m sorry."


    Marcella¡¯s expression softened. She sighed and shook her head. "I¡¯m not here to scold you, Abel. But you need to be more cautious. The Tower is unforgiving to those who act without understanding the consequences. Take a few days off to rest and regain your strength. Use that time to reflect on what¡¯s happening to you."


    Abel felt a weight lift off his shoulders as her words sank in. He nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Marcella. I¡¯ll do that."


    With a brief nod, she gestured for him to leave. Abel left the library, his mind buzzing with a mixture of relief and confusion. He decided to head straight to the cafeteria, hoping that a good meal might at least calm the gnawing hunger that continued to plague him.


    The cafeteria was mostly empty, with only a few recruits scattered at the various tables. Abel ordered a plate of steak and vegetables and sat down in a corner, away from the others. He devoured the meal quickly, hoping the rich flavors would fill the void inside him. But when the plate was empty, the hunger persisted, clawing at him from the inside, as if demanding something else¡ªsomething he couldn¡¯t provide.


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    Frustrated and confused, Abel stood up and left the cafeteria, his mind churning. The hunger wasn¡¯t physical. It was something deeper, something tied to the Star Eater. He needed answers, and the only place he could hope to find them was in the book he had taken from the ruins.


    Back in his room, Abel pulled out the book¡ªa collection of notes from Fiendfinger, the deranged apostle who had once sought power from the horrors that dwelled in the ancient world. He flipped through the pages, his fingers tracing the strange symbols and sketches that littered the margins. Eventually, he found the section he was looking for¡ªthe Star Eater.


    Fiendfinger¡¯s notes described the Star Eaters as elusive, ancient horrors that would stare at a star for centuries before devouring it entirely. They fed not just on the physical matter of the stars but on their very essence¡ªtheir light, their energy. According to Fiendfinger, they had long been extinct, their power too dangerous and destructive even for the darkest of magicians to wield. The notes mentioned that Fiendfinger had been lucky to find the remains of one, a rare discovery that had allowed him to study the creature¡¯s essence.


    Abel stared at the words, trying to make sense of them. The Star Eater had consumed stars, their light, their energy... Was that what he was feeling? Was the hunger he was experiencing tied to the same insatiable craving that drove the Star Eaters?


    But the notes didn¡¯t offer any solutions. There was nothing about how to deal with the lingering effects of a Star Eater¡¯s essence, nothing that could help him understand the strange hunger he felt.


    As he sat in frustration, there was a knock on the door. Abel looked up to see Nando entering, his face a mixture of concern and curiosity.


    "Are you alright?" Nando asked, closing the door behind him. "You¡¯ve seemed... off lately."


    Abel hesitated before answering. "More or less," he said, not wanting to reveal too much about the hunger gnawing at him. "I¡¯ve just been thinking a lot."


    Nando eyed him closely, his usual friendly demeanor shifting slightly. "You know," he said, his tone changing abruptly, "I did save you in the ruins. Don¡¯t you think I deserve those research papers you found there?"


    Abel blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in Nando¡¯s attitude. His posture had changed too, more aggressive, more demanding. Abel frowned but nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right. The papers don¡¯t align with my path anyway."


    He handed over the research papers, though he couldn¡¯t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the room.


    Nando took the papers, his expression softening again. He seemed to realize how he had come off, and quickly apologized. "Sorry about that," he said, scratching the back of his head. "It happens sometimes. Mood swings. Comes with the artifacts, I guess."


    Abel nodded, still slightly wary but understanding. "It¡¯s alright."


    Before leaving, Nando paused by the door, his usual friendly smile returning. "You know," he said, "my family always used to say, ¡®If you ever feel stuck, wish upon the stars.¡¯ It¡¯s kind of a silly tale, but maybe it¡¯ll bring you some comfort, at least for tonight."


    Abel smiled, appreciating the gesture. "Thanks, Nando."


    Once Nando had left, Abel sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts racing. He stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the night sky. The stars twinkled above, distant and cold, yet somehow comforting. For a brief moment, Abel allowed himself to believe in Nando¡¯s tale.


    With a deep breath, he whispered a silent wish to the stars, hoping they might offer some guidance.

 Chapter 47: Quelling The Hunger

    Chapter 47: Quelling The Hunger


    Abel stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the night sky above. The stars shimmered in the vast expanse, distant and eternal, their cold light flickering in the darkness. Nando''s words echoed in his mind, and though he had dismissed them earlier as a simple folk tale, something about the idea of wishing upon a star now seemed oddly comforting. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, silently wishing for clarity, for peace from the strange hunger gnawing at him.


    But when he opened his eyes again, something changed.


    The world around him seemed to blur, the stone walls of his room fading into the background as his vision tunneled toward the stars above. It was as if the very fabric of reality had shifted, narrowing down to nothing but the shimmering lights in the sky. His heart began to race, not out of fear, but in awe and confusion as his gaze locked onto the stars. He could feel a pull, something deep within him resonating with the celestial bodies, and his body went rigid.


    Abel¡¯s eyes began to glow, faint at first but steadily brightening with an ethereal, starry light. He was no longer just staring at the stars¡ªhe was absorbing them. The light from the stars seemed to pour into his eyes, filling him with a strange warmth that radiated through his entire body. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, a pure, untainted energy that pulsed through his veins like liquid starlight.


    He couldn¡¯t break free. His mind felt distant, lost in the vastness of the cosmos as if he had become one with the stars themselves. There was no hunger, no pain, no frustration¡ªjust an overwhelming sense of connection to something ancient, something far greater than himself.


    Time seemed to dissolve. Abel had no idea how long he stood there, eyes glowing, body frozen in place. The world outside his window faded into nothingness, and all that remained was the vast, starry sky above. His body seemed to grow lighter as if the pull of gravity no longer applied to him. He felt weightless, adrift in the cosmos.


    The hours passed, unnoticed by Abel. The stars twinkled on, and Abel remained entranced, his mind completely overtaken by the mysterious pull of the sky. He felt as if he was no longer grounded in the Tower, no longer tethered to the earth¡ªhe was drifting among the stars, one with their ancient, eternal glow. It was like floating in a warm, endless sea of light, every flicker and pulse of starlight a whispered secret from the cosmos, inviting him to stay longer.


    For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt at home. It wasn¡¯t just comfort, though¡ªit was as if this was where he truly belonged. There was an indescribable sensation of being accepted, enveloped by the stars like a lost child returning home. The weight of the world, the gnawing hunger inside him, the questions that had plagued him since the ruins¡ªall of it melted away in the brilliance of the starlight.


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    Outside the Tower, Abel could hear distant voices and the usual commotion of daily life. But the sounds were clearer than ever before. He could distinguish individual voices, each footstep, the whisper of the wind¡ªeverything was amplified. His hearing had somehow sharpened beyond anything he had known before. Yet even the noises of the waking world felt far away, insignificant compared to the boundless expanse above him. Abel was lost in the stars, and for now, that was all that mattered.


    The first rays of dawn began to break over the horizon, their soft golden light pushing the stars into hiding. Abel blinked as the trance broke, his eyes returning to their normal state. The glow that had enveloped him faded with the stars, and the full weight of the world came crashing back down. He stumbled back from the window, disoriented, his body feeling impossibly heavy as gravity reasserted itself. Abel collapsed onto his bed, gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest.


    What had just happened?


    He lay still for a moment, his mind reeling from the experience. Slowly, the realization dawned on him: the hunger was gone. The insatiable void that had gnawed at him for weeks had vanished, replaced by a deep sense of fulfillment. Abel sat up cautiously, his hands trembling as they ran through his hair. He felt lighter, stronger¡ªno longer burdened by the strange, internal hunger that had plagued him since the ruins.


    ¡°Could it be?¡± he whispered to himself. ¡°Was the solution to the hunger... stargazing?¡±


    The thought seemed absurd at first, but as he replayed the events of the night in his mind, it began to make sense. The energy of the stars had filled the void inside him. By staring at the stars, by absorbing their light, he had somehow fed that insatiable hunger. But it wasn¡¯t just hunger that had been sated¡ªthere was something more. He felt a new power coursing through him, as if the very essence of the stars themselves now resided within him.


    The sunlight streamed into the room, casting long, warm shadows across the stone floor. Abel stared out the window, his mind still spinning with questions. What had he truly absorbed from the stars? What was this new power he felt growing within him? He could still sense the faint glow of the stars in the back of his mind, lingering there like a memory he couldn¡¯t quite shake. Whatever had happened to him, this was just the beginning.


    Despite the confusion, he felt energized, more alive than he had in weeks. His body felt ready to move, to act, as though it had been revitalized. But his thoughts were still buzzing, and as much as he wanted to keep exploring this newfound power, he knew he needed rest. He lay back down on his bed, pulling the blanket over him. The stars still lingered in his mind, their light casting faint, ethereal patterns in the darkness behind his eyelids.


    He knew, deep down, that this was a turning point. The stars had shown him something¡ªgiven him a gift. But what that gift truly was, and where it would lead him, was still unknown. For now, though, he would let the mystery wait. Abel closed his eyes, finally letting himself drift into a dreamless sleep, feeling whole for the first time since his return.

 Chapter 48: Combustion

    Chapter 48:  Combustion


    Abel woke suddenly, the acrid smell of smoke invading his senses. For a split second, his heart raced as he scanned his room in panic, but everything seemed fine. The smoke wasn''t coming from his quarters. He shot up from his bed, quickly moving to the door. As he opened it, a wave of heat rushed down the hall. His pulse quickened when he realized the smoke was coming from Sena¡¯s room. A burning smell thickened the air, and Abel could already see flickers of fire reflecting off the stone walls.


    "Sena¡¯s room!" Abel whispered urgently to himself. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the flames, but the closer he got, the more unbearable the heat became. He tried to shield his face with his arm, but the intensity of the fire forced him to stop several feet away, unable to approach any further. The heat was like a barrier, pushing him back with its scorching force.


    Other recruits began peeking out from their rooms, their faces a mixture of confusion and worry. Whispers spread among the small crowd as the fire grew, but nobody dared to approach.


    "What''s happening?"


    "Is someone trapped in there?"


    ¡°Is that Sena¡¯s room?¡±


    Abel clenched his fists, helpless as he watched the flames consume everything. Just as he was about to call out for help, a blur rushed past him, swift and silent. It was Marcella, the faculty in charge of the Stone Tower''s library. She moved with incredible speed, a controlled urgency in her step. Her long black hair trailed behind her as she made her way toward the burning room. The air around her seemed to ripple with energy as she raised her hand toward the inferno.


    Marcella stopped at the threshold of Sena¡¯s door, her gaze locked onto the flames. Her hand began to glow with a soft blue light, and the temperature in the hallway shifted slightly as if a cooler breeze had suddenly entered the space. The recruits watched in awe, their eyes wide as Marcella channeled her power.


    With a swift motion of her hand, the air shimmered, and a bubble of water appeared in the center of the burning room. It rapidly expanded, growing larger and larger until it filled the space completely. Then, with a soft popping sound, the bubble burst, drenching the entire room in water. A hiss filled the hall as the fire was extinguished, leaving behind nothing but thick clouds of smoke.


    For a moment, everything was still.


    Then, through the haze of smoke, a figure emerged. Abel strained his eyes to see more clearly. It was Sena, but not the same Sena Abel knew. His skin had taken on a golden hue, glowing softly as if his very flesh had been kissed by fire. His hair, once brown, was now a deep, fiery red. He walked with slow, laborious steps, and Abel noticed his frame seemed slightly larger, more solid than before. He was completely naked¡ªhis robes having been reduced to ash in the blaze¡ªbut he seemed utterly unbothered, his eyes focused ahead as if deep in thought.


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    Abel¡¯s heart raced. Could this be the result of Sena overcoming his issue? It was clear something had changed. Abel felt the stirrings of something inside himself as well, an awareness of his own body. He glanced at the reflective glass window nearby, catching a glimpse of his own eyes¡ªnow a starry gray, filled with a faint shimmering light. The transformation wasn¡¯t just affecting Sena. Abel had undergone some changes too. Were these the side effects of their strange connection to the horrors they had encountered?


    Marcella stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Sena. Her voice was stern but not unkind. "What in the world were you doing?" she demanded, her tone thick with disapproval. "You were careless, Sena. Do you realize how dangerous this could have been?"


    Sena, looking slightly embarrassed but determined, stood tall. "I wasn¡¯t doing anything, Marcella. I¡ªsuddenly combusted. Everything caught on fire without warning."


    Marcella¡¯s eyes flashed with disbelief. "Combusted?" She crossed her arms, a skeptical look crossing her face. "You expect me to believe that? You know the rules¡ªno dangerous experiments in your room. It¡¯s reckless."


    Sena¡¯s gaze dropped for a moment, his face flushed with embarrassment. ¡°I wasn¡¯t experimenting. My body needed to burn... to be reborn. I was fighting the heat, trying to hold it off, but in the end, I had to let it happen. It was part of the process."


    Marcella shook her head, clearly still not convinced, but she sighed, rubbing her temples as if she¡¯d seen this sort of thing too many times before. ¡°Fine,¡± she said at last. ¡°But you¡¯re going to pay for the damage to this room, out of your contribution points. And get yourself some new clothes.¡±


    Without another word, Marcella turned and left, the recruits parting for her as she walked down the hall. The tension in the air slowly dissipated, though some recruits lingered, still whispering about what had just happened.


    Sena, though clearly embarrassed by his naked state, walked toward Abel, a strange confidence in his step. ¡°It¡¯s done, Abel,¡± he said, his voice quiet but firm. ¡°I¡¯m different now. I had to let the flames consume me... to transform. I was holding back, afraid of what might happen, but this... this was part of my path.¡±


    Abel nodded, taking in Sena¡¯s new appearance. There was something undeniably different about him now. An aura of power and calmness radiated from him, as though he had emerged stronger, more sure of himself. Although the oppression feeling wasn''t on par with the apostles as Sena had not yet broken through, however, he had definitely gotten something out of it. Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel proud of his friend for overcoming whatever challenge had been placed in front of him.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay,¡± Abel said with a small smile. ¡°Seems like you¡¯ve figured it out.¡±


    Sena chuckled softly. ¡°It wasn¡¯t easy. But yeah, I think I have. At least for now.¡±


    As the other recruits continued to murmur and gawk, Sena nodded toward the stairs. ¡°I need to head down and get some clothes. I¡¯ll see you later, Abel.¡±


    ¡°Take care,¡± Abel replied, watching as Sena descended to the first floor, his glowing golden skin catching the faint light in the stairwell.


    Abel lingered for a moment, watching the other recruits as they slowly retreated back to their rooms. He could see the way some of them eyed him as well, their gazes lingering a little too long on his face, his eyes. They had noticed his transformation too. The changes weren¡¯t just happening to Sena. Abel hurried back to his room, eager to avoid any further attention.


    Once inside, he leaned against the door, his mind racing. There was something undeniably different about the two of them now¡ªsomething that set them apart from the other recruits. Whatever had happened to them in the ruins had left a mark, a deep and lasting change.


    And Abel had a feeling that this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 49: Stargazing

    Chapter 49: Stargazing


    Abel had spent the past few days in quiet isolation, taking full advantage of the time off Marcella had granted him. His body was still adjusting to the strange changes he had undergone, and each night, he found himself stargazing, driven by a hunger he could no longer ignore. It had become routine¡ªa need to consume the starlight itself, as bizarre as that sounded. The hunger would return daily, gnawing at him until he fed it again by staring into the vast night sky.


    During the day, Abel rested, though he noticed odd transformations continuing to take root within him. His vision had sharpened considerably in the dark, to the point where dimly lit rooms appeared almost fully illuminated. As long as starlight could reach him, even in its faintest form, he could see clearly. True darkness still posed a challenge, but under the light of the stars, his surroundings were crystal clear. A tingling sensation had also begun to spread through his fingertips, though he hadn''t yet figured out what that meant. Despite the strange new path he was walking, Abel¡¯s thoughts occasionally returned to his old knowledge book¡ªthe one that had guided his initial studies. It still held value, especially the idea of inscriptions. Though he was unsure if he wanted to inscribe the symbols on his body, he wondered if they could be used on objects. The thought intrigued him, and he decided it was worth exploring further when the time was right.


    Meanwhile, Sena had been adjusting to his own transformation, though his circumstances were different. After the fire that had erupted during his rebirth, his original room had been rendered uninhabitable, forcing him to use most of his contribution points to purchase a new one. The new room, much like his old one, was modest in size¡ªno larger or more luxurious than what he¡¯d had before. The stone walls were bare, the bed plain but comfortable, and the only decoration was a simple desk with a mirror tucked into the corner. Despite the unfortunate cost of replacing his room, Sena didn¡¯t mind. What mattered most to him was how his body had changed.


    He stood before the small mirror in the corner, inspecting the visible differences. His hair had turned a deep crimson, a shade so rich it almost seemed to glow under the dim light. His skin had taken on a faint golden hue, and he appeared slightly taller, more muscular. There was a newfound strength in his limbs, an energy that pulsed through him with every step he took. Sena flexed his fingers, marveling at how much more connected he felt to the world around him. Whatever had been holding him back before was gone. He was reborn, in more ways than one.


    Sena¡¯s thoughts drifted back to the moment of the fire, the heat overwhelming him until he had finally let go, allowing his body to burn and be remade. The fire had been a test, and now that he had passed, he felt a sense of confidence that he had never known before. His new body wasn¡¯t just stronger¡ªit was the embodiment of his path forward.


    Just as he was settling into his room, there was a knock at the door. It was Nando and Isabella, coming by for their usual chat. Sena greeted them with a wide smile, letting them in, though they couldn¡¯t help but comment on his new appearance.


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    "You look different," Nando said, his eyes scanning Sena from head to toe. "A lot more... fiery."


    Sena laughed. "Yeah, feels that way too. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve been set free. I think I¡¯ve found my path¡ªat least now I know what I¡¯m aiming for."


    Isabella, ever the observer, nodded in approval. "That¡¯s good. Knowing where you¡¯re headed makes all the difference."


    They talked for a while longer before there was another knock at the door. This time, it was Abel. He looked slightly dazed, his expression distant, but still managed to smile as he entered the room.


    "Your eyes... they¡¯re glowing," Isabella said, tilting her head curiously as she studied him.


    Abel rubbed the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious. "Yeah, it¡¯s from the stargazing. I¡¯ve... been feeding on the light, I guess."


    Sena nodded, understanding completely. "We all go through changes. At least you¡¯ve found a way to deal with it, right?"


    They spent the next few hours talking and catching up, sharing stories about their individual tasks and experiences. Nando made a few jokes about Sena¡¯s new hair, and Isabella mentioned an upcoming task where she would be transporting beast carcasses back to the Tower. She seemed more excited about the opportunity to keep some parts for herself, which her snake familiar would undoubtedly enjoy.


    As the night wore on, the group eventually parted ways. Nando and Isabella headed back to their own quarters, leaving Abel and Sena to their thoughts. Sena gave Abel a knowing look before heading off to his own room. Abel, still feeling the effects of his unusual path, made his way toward his room as well.


    However, just as Abel reached the end of the hall, something caught his attention¡ªthe large window that framed the night sky.


    Without thinking, his gaze locked onto the stars, and just like before, the world around him seemed to blur and fade. He stood frozen, entranced by the starlight, unable to pull himself away. His eyes glowed faintly as the light filled him, sating the hunger that had gnawed at him since sunset. He was vaguely aware of other recruits passing by, whispering and glancing in his direction.


    "Is he... stargazing again?" one recruit murmured to another.


    "Look at his eyes," another whispered. "They¡¯re sparkling... that¡¯s strange."


    "Yeah, he¡¯s been doing this a lot lately. Weird guy."


    Abel didn¡¯t hear the rest of their comments. He was too lost in the stars, drawn into their infinite glow, feeling the hunger inside him fade away with every second. Hours passed, and though recruits came and went, Abel remained, standing motionless in the hall, his eyes locked on the window.


    Eventually, as the night stretched on and the Tower quieted, Abel finally blinked, the trance broken. He sighed, shaking his head as if clearing the fog from his mind. This was something he needed to work on¡ªthe uncontrollable urge to stargaze could become a problem, especially if it left him vulnerable like this.


    With a final glance at the stars, Abel turned and headed to his room, already thinking about how he could gain better control over this strange new power.

 Chapter 50: The Expeditions Unveiled

    Chapter 50: The Expeditions Unveiled


    It was another class day, and this time, Glandel stood before the non-gifted recruits. His stern face, scarred from battles no recruit could imagine, surveyed the room. The class was more packed than usual, with all the non-gifted recruits present. Abel sat in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of eyes on him, his new nickname, "Stargazer," whispered among the recruits whenever they thought he wasn¡¯t listening. But no one had dared call him that to his face yet. Not that it mattered. Abel was more focused on what Glandel had to say.


    Glandel cleared his throat, bringing the murmurs in the class to a stop. His voice was gruff, commanding attention as always.


    "You''re aware that after around six months in the Tower, recruits are required to go on expeditions, yes?" he asked, his sharp eyes scanning the room. A few recruits nodded, while others exchanged glances, unsure of what was coming next.


    Glandel continued, ¡°These expeditions aren¡¯t just some glorified camping trip. They¡¯re not for gathering herbs or fighting a few creatures. These expeditions are much more significant than you think.¡±


    He paced the front of the class, his boots making a steady rhythm against the stone floor. "Each of you will be assigned to strategic locations across the surrounding territories¡ªareas that are critical to the Stone Tower¡¯s interests. Magical points of power, sites that the Tower Master needs to secure and control. You won¡¯t be on your own. Each expedition location will have an Apostle leading it. You¡¯re there to assist the Apostle in carrying out their mission."


    Whispers rippled through the class. Abel leaned forward slightly, feeling the weight of Glandel¡¯s words. A real expedition, with an Apostle leading? The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through him, tempered by a sharp undercurrent of fear. He knew how dangerous the world outside the Tower could be.


    "The missions vary," Glandel continued. "Some might be clearing out lairs of evil sorcerers, slaying creatures that threaten the Tower¡¯s influence, or securing important magical sites. Every task will be dangerous, and you¡¯ll be gone for several months, at the very least."


    Abel exchanged a glance with Nando, who looked equally apprehensive. The idea of being out in the field for months was both exhilarating and terrifying.


    "But," Glandel said, stopping his pacing to face them directly, "this is where you¡¯ll learn the most. Out there, your survival depends on the skills you¡¯ve gained, and the experience you¡¯ll get is invaluable. If you want to become an Apostle, these expeditions are your trial. It¡¯s where you either prove yourself or die trying."


    The room fell silent, every recruit now fully aware of the gravity of what lay ahead. Glandel¡¯s words hung in the air like a weight pressing down on their chests.


    "Being an Apostle," Glandel said, his voice softer but no less serious, "is only the beginning of your path toward mastering magic. Becoming an Apostle means you¡¯ve unlocked the foundation of real power¡ªthe ability to harness and manipulate mana. But it¡¯s just that, a foundation. Only with a mana pool can you properly control mana and create magic."


    He paused, letting the statement sink in before asking, "Does anyone know what a mana pool looks like?"


    A girl sitting near the back raised her hand. ¡°It¡¯s like a whirlpool of energy,¡± she said, her voice uncertain. "Like Gloomeyes, who ascended."


    Glandel nodded. ¡°A whirlpool is one way a mana pool can manifest, yes. But each person¡¯s mana pool is different. Some may appear as a vortex of flames, a pool of water, or even something entirely abstract. The key is, that your mana pool is unique to you. Don¡¯t limit yourself by thinking it will look a certain way. When you¡¯re ready, you¡¯ll know.¡±


    Abel felt a spark of curiosity. The idea fascinated him. What would his look like? The thought stayed with him as Glandel continued the lesson, explaining that their expeditions would test them in ways they couldn¡¯t yet understand, and that preparing started now¡ªthrough outdoor missions, improving their magical understanding, and growing their contribution points¡ªwas essential for their survival.


    As class ended, Glandel gave them one final warning: "You¡¯ll find out your expedition assignments in a some time. Until then, prepare. As some of you might know, we will have an open gate after your second month here in the tower. This means you are free to explore the inner perimeter before heading out on the expedition. Gain experience outside the Tower. You¡¯ll need every bit of it."


    Abel stood up and made his way toward the door, but he could feel the eyes of the other recruits on him. The nickname ¡°Stargazer¡± had spread quickly, and now, whispers followed him as he walked.


    He heard a few hushed voices as he passed by: ¡°Did you see his eyes? They glow, like he¡¯s been staring at the stars for days.¡± Abel frowned. He knew he had to work on controlling his new abilities, especially when it came to stargazing. If he wasn¡¯t careful, his strange behavior could make him a target.


    As Abel stepped into the hallway, the whispering recruits disappeared from his mind. He had much to think about. He had to prepare for the expedition, and with his new abilities tied to the stars, he would have to figure out how to control his growing hunger and understand his path better. There was no room for distractions now.


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    He had a lot to plan for.


    Abel was determined not to waste any more time. He needed to train and practice what he had learned from the knowledge book. His next stop was the Tower¡¯s shop, where he planned to buy a few essentials. Inscriptions, the intricate patterns of arcane energy, fascinated him more now than ever. The knowledge book had been clear¡ªif he could master the art of creating them, he could imbue objects with magic. And if he could inscribe an object with the right combination of runes, it might even take on the characteristics of the magical creature whose blood he used in the process.


    As he walked through the winding corridors, his steps quickened. The Tower''s shop was tucked away in a corner on the first floor, a strange place that both intrigued and unnerved him every time he passed by. He had heard about it but had only visited once to check things out. The shop wasn''t managed by any person. It was something far more unusual, and today, Abel was about to deal with it again.


    The entrance to the shop was marked by two twisted stone columns that looked as though they had once been tree trunks, petrified over the centuries. Inside, the shop was lit dimly by the soft, glowing light that seemed to come from the ceiling itself, making the air feel dense. But what truly drew attention was the tree.


    At the heart of the shop stood a massive, gnarled tree. Its bark was dark and twisted, with silver veins of magic running through it. The roots spread across the floor like the tentacles of some ancient creature, creeping toward the shelves that lined the room. The tree pulsed with a strange, almost sentient awareness that sent a shiver down Abel¡¯s spine every time he looked at it.


    Abel approached carefully, taking in the sight. The shop was eerily quiet¡ªno clerks, no voices, just the slow creaking of the tree¡¯s branches shifting above him.


    ¡°I need some writing utensils and parchment,¡± Abel said, his voice quiet but clear.


    The tree responded with movement. One of its roots snaked its way across the floor with fluid grace, heading toward a shelf where the supplies were kept. With a gentle curl, the root wrapped around a stack of parchment and lifted it down to Abel. Another root stretched toward a row of quills and plucked one from the shelf¡ªits tip glowing faintly, infused with magic. It handed the items to Abel with a smooth, almost mechanical precision.


    It was unsettling, but Abel had grown accustomed to the strange happenings in the Tower. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small pouch of contribution points. Without hesitation, one of the tree¡¯s thicker roots extended toward him, forming a small hollow at its base where the points could be placed. Abel deposited the points, watching as the hollow sealed up with a soft rustle, absorbing his payment.


    Abel gave the tree a wary glance as he tucked the supplies under his arm. ¡°Thank you,¡± he murmured, though he doubted the tree cared for his words. The only response was the slow creaking of its branches overhead as the tree seemed to settle back into its silent vigil.


    Abel left the shop quickly, relieved to be out of its unsettling presence. The strangeness of the Tower never ceased to amaze him, but he had no time to dwell on it now. His mind was focused on what lay ahead.


    Returning to his room, Abel set his supplies on the desk and began organizing the parchment and quills. He had a clear plan: practice the intricate rune patterns from the knowledge book. Although he didn¡¯t yet have the magical items needed for a full experiment, he was eager to hone his skills.


    The inscriptions fascinated him. The idea that he could imbue objects with magical properties through the precise drawing of arcane symbols excited him. If he could inscribe an object using magical blood, he wondered if it would absorb some of the properties of the creature it came from¡ªjust as the knowledge book had hinted.


    Abel spread the parchment out carefully on the desk. The enchanted quill felt light in his hand, and the ink seemed to glow faintly as he dipped the quill into it. He had memorized many of the patterns from the book, but replicating them by hand would take practice.


    His hand moved slowly but steadily, tracing the intricate symbols and lines that he had studied so closely. The mana-infused ink seemed to guide him, shimmering slightly as it flowed onto the page, forming loops, curves, and jagged edges in precise order. His concentration deepened as he worked, blocking out the world around him.


    Hours passed as Abel practiced, lost in the flow of drawing the complex runes. He occasionally paused to consult the open knowledge book on his desk, checking the finer details of a particular pattern. The symbols seemed to hum with power as he sketched them, and though they were not yet functional, he could sense the potential behind them.


    Finally, after what felt like both minutes and hours, Abel set down the quill. His fingers ached from the steady, delicate work, but he was satisfied with his progress. The parchment before him was filled with intricate runes, each one carefully crafted to perfection. He wasn¡¯t ready to try inscribing an object just yet¡ªhe needed the right materials, the right magical blood¡ªbut he was one step closer to mastering the art.


    As he glanced out the window, the night had already fallen. Starlight filtered in through the glass, casting a soft glow across the room. The familiar hunger stirred within him again, growing stronger as the stars appeared one by one in the sky. Abel felt the pull, the irresistible draw of the stars calling to him.


    He moved toward his chair and positioned it to face the window. Stargazing had become a necessary part of his life now, a routine that helped ease the hunger he felt whenever the night sky emerged. The stars, distant and cold, seemed to fill him with energy, and as he gazed at them, the gnawing hunger inside him slowly subsided.


    Sitting in his chair, Abel let himself fall into the familiar trance of stargazing. His eyes locked onto the sky, and as always, the stars seemed to respond. Their light filled his vision, and for a while, he felt as though he could see more than just the stars¡ªshapes, patterns, and movements in the cosmos, something far beyond what normal eyes could perceive.


    He wondered what this connection meant. Why had the stars chosen him? And more importantly, what path was he now walking?


    As the night deepened, Abel remained at the window, gazing up at the stars with a sense of both wonder and trepidation. The expedition loomed in the near future, and while he knew the dangers that awaited him outside the Tower, he also knew that his strange new abilities would play a crucial role in his survival.


    For now, though, he allowed himself to relax, stargazing the night away. The hunger ebbed, and the starlight filled him with a strange sense of peace.


    But as always, questions lingered. What else did the stars have in store for him?

 Chapter 51: Ronalds Determination

    Chapter 51: Ronald''s Determination


    Ronald stood with Tina and Edmund in the common area of the third floor, the familiar sound of their voices echoing softly against the high ceilings. The room was spacious, with tall arched windows casting long streaks of sunlight across the stone floor. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, displaying ancient scenes of magic and conquest, and plush chairs were scattered around, offering a comfortable space for the gifted recruits to lounge in between their studies.


    Today, they were all more relaxed than usual, the air around them filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement. They had been talking about the gates¡ªhow in just a few days, they would finally open, allowing recruits to explore the inner perimeter freely. This was a significant moment; up until now, the only times they had been outside the Tower¡¯s walls were for assigned tasks, and gifted recruits rarely took part in those.


    ¡°For us,¡± Edmund said with a grin, tapping the side of the strange glass bottle he always carried, ¡°this is our first real chance to explore the inner perimeter. We¡¯ve been cooped up in here, while the non-gifted have been running all over the place, doing their little tasks. But now? Now we get to see what¡¯s out there for ourselves, and we¡¯re not limited by some boring assignment.¡±


    Tina nodded enthusiastically, her fingers tracing small patterns in the air as she spoke. ¡°Exactly! We didn¡¯t need to go out for tasks like the non-gifted do. Contribution points and chores aren¡¯t required for us, so we never really bothered. But now, with the gates opening, we can explore without restrictions¡ªand we get to see what the Tower has been hiding from us all this time.¡±


    Ronald felt a flicker of excitement, though it was tempered by a bit of hesitation. He had spent more time in the library than most of the other gifted recruits, but he knew this was an opportunity he couldn¡¯t ignore. Like Tina and Edmund, he hadn¡¯t explored much of the outside yet, and this was their chance to see what the world beyond the Tower¡¯s walls had to offer. A world they would eventually be navigating as Apostles.


    Tina was clearly proud of her recent progress. ¡°I¡¯ve been able to gather enough mana lately to form a soft layer of earth over my skin,¡± she said, her tone brimming with satisfaction. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect yet, but it strengthens me. With my earth affinity, I feel more grounded¡ªmore secure. It¡¯s like I can feel the weight of the ground beneath me, giving me stability.¡±


    She raised her arm slightly, and Ronald could see the faint shimmer of mana as a soft brown hue flickered over her forearm. It was a tangible sign of the control she had gained over her earth affinity.


    Edmund, never one to be outdone, leaned forward, his face animated as he spoke. ¡°That¡¯s great, Tina. I¡¯ve been working on something myself,¡± he said, his voice brimming with pride. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to pull in a decent portion of fire mana, though creating a full mana pool is still a ways off. But check this out¡ªI¡¯ve been learning a technique that lets me concentrate that fire mana into a whip.¡±


    He raised his hand, and for a brief moment, concentrated mana gathered around his fingers, forming a fiery whip that cracked through the air before flickering out. ¡°It doesn¡¯t last long, but it¡¯s a start. It¡¯s meant for taming beasts with a fire affinity, but I figure it can be useful in combat too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s impressive,¡± Ronald said, nodding in approval. He had to admit, Edmund¡¯s progress was remarkable, even if the technique took a toll on his mana reserves.


    Tina leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ¡°We¡¯ve all made progress,¡± she said, her voice thoughtful. ¡°But it¡¯s only going to get better once we can roam the inner perimeter. Who knows what we¡¯ll discover out there? We might find new techniques, artifacts, maybe even creatures that can help us grow even stronger.¡±


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    Ronald remained quiet, his thoughts drifting. He had indeed made progress, but his approach had been different from that of his friends. He had spent more time in the library, quietly studying and avoiding the days when Abel, was working. Unknown to anyone, the glasses Ronald wore weren¡¯t for vision. They were a magical artifact, allowing him to "see" those touched by magic and certain magical properties¡ªpeople or objects with anomalies, artifacts, or relics of power. This ability had helped him align himself with Tina and Edmund, both of whom also carried strange magical anomalies, though they didn¡¯t know it.


    His glasses had also led him to a book that intrigued him¡ªa story about a gifted recruit named River Spirit, who had used the essence of a river to infuse himself, creating a unique and powerful mana pool. This idea had fascinated Ronald, and he had been quietly researching ever since, though he kept his findings to himself.


    When it came time to show off techniques, Ronald preferred to keep things simple. He raised his hand, letting a soft blue hue envelop his fingers as he demonstrated a basic water affinity spell. ¡°This is a technique called Water Hand,¡± he said, allowing the faint glow to pulse from his palm. ¡°It¡¯s mainly used for healing minor injuries. It¡¯s not flashy, but it¡¯s useful.¡±


    Tina and Edmund nodded approvingly, each recognizing that Ronald had his own path, even if it seemed less dramatic than theirs.


    As they continued discussing their progress, Edmund¡¯s tone shifted, a hint of amusement in his voice. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve heard we might run into some of the weirdos below us¡ªthe non-gifted¡ªwhile we¡¯re exploring. They¡¯ll be out there too, probably scrambling to keep up with us.¡±


    Tina chuckled, rolling her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope we don¡¯t have to deal with them. The inner perimeter is big enough for everyone to explore, but honestly, I¡¯d rather not waste my time crossing paths with them. We¡¯ve got more important things to focus on.¡±


    Ronald felt a pang of guilt as they spoke. He had aligned himself with Tina and Edmund out of necessity, drawn to the power and potential he sensed in them. But hearing them talk this way about the non-gifted¡ªpeople he had once been close to¡ªmade him feel uneasy. Still, he remained silent, knowing that as a gifted recruit, it was best not to meddle with the non-gifted unless absolutely necessary in addition his path different.


    Tina¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts. ¡°Have you heard about that recruit they call Stargazer?¡± she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. ¡°Apparently, he¡¯s cursed. People say every night, he gets trapped in some kind of hallucination, staring at the stars like he¡¯s lost his mind.¡±


    Ronald felt his stomach twist. He knew exactly who Stargazer was¡ªAbel. The rumors had spread quickly, painting a picture of a recruit cursed by the stars, forever trapped in a state of madness. It was unsettling, but it also validated Ronald¡¯s decision to distance himself from the non-gifted. Hearing about curses and strange occurrences only strengthened his resolve.


    ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before something bad happens to them,¡± Edmund added dismissively. ¡°A lot of the non-gifted were cursed during one of their tasks. It¡¯s just a waiting game until they start dropping off.¡±


    Ronald shook his head, feeling a sense of detachment from the fate of the non-gifted. He had chosen his path, and they had chosen theirs. The more he heard about curses and death, the more comfortable he felt with his decision to distance himself.


    ¡°So, where do you guys want to explore first once the gates open?¡± Tina asked, shifting the conversation back to their plans.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about heading east,¡± Ronald replied. ¡°There¡¯s a body of water there I¡¯d like to check out. It might help with my research into mana pools.¡±


    Tina smiled. ¡°That sounds interesting. I might explore the forested area to the north. I¡¯ve heard rumors about some unique creatures there.¡±


    Edmund leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. ¡°Wherever we go, it¡¯ll be good to finally get out there. Just remember, if we see any of the non-gifted, we keep walking.¡±


    The three of them chuckled, their conversation drifting to lighter topics as they discussed their upcoming exploration. For Ronald, the path ahead felt clear. He had chosen his allies wisely, and soon, the inner perimeter would open up a new world of possibilities.

 Chapter 52: The Gates Open

    Chapter 52: The Gates Open


    It was a busy day in the Stone Tower. The air was thick with anticipation as the recruits buzzed with excitement. Today, the ¡°Gates¡± would be opened. This was a figurative declaration of their freedom to explore the Inner Perimeter without the limitations of tasks or supervision, although the tower¡¯s gate would be also opened permanently. For many, this was their first real taste of freedom in months since arriving at the Tower, and it showed in the gleam in their eyes and the way they jostled with barely contained energy.


    The first floor of the Tower was packed with recruits, Abel among them, standing shoulder to shoulder with Sena, Nando, and Isabella with baskets on their backs. Abel''s thoughts were a swirl of both eagerness and focus. This was what he had been waiting for. The freedom to explore, learn, and grow in his own way. He glanced around at the others, noticing how the months of training and struggle had formed cliques¡ªgroups of recruits who had bonded during their time together and now planned to explore the wilderness in those same tight-knit groups.


    Abel¡¯s mind was on his own path. The work in the library had given him insight into the strange power he had tapped into, and the time spent stargazing had revealed things to him that he was still processing. He knew he needed to build his foundation¡ªunderstand more about the magic, the stars, and the power within himself. But beyond that, there was also a thrill in the thought of seeing the Stone Forest up close, of walking through the shadows of those towering, ancient trees without the strict oversight of tasks.


    Beside him, Sena seemed restless, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His physical transformation since the fire had left him stronger, his muscles more defined, and his hair a deeper shade of red. Yet despite the changes, there was something grounded about him now¡ªa sense of calm that hadn¡¯t been there before. ¡°Finally,¡± Sena muttered under his breath, his eyes on the massive gate ahead of them. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for this. Time to see what we can really do.¡±


    Isabella stood nearby, her arms crossed but her eyes alight with curiosity. She had always been practical, focused on progress and her own studies, but Abel could see the same excitement in her gaze. Her connection with her snake familiar had grown, and the idea of gathering rare beast parts from the forest undoubtedly intrigued her. She smiled slightly, tilting her head toward Abel. ¡°It¡¯s time we push our limits,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m tired of being cooped up in here.¡±


    Nando, on the other hand, was pacing slightly, his usual carefree attitude dimmed by a layer of apprehension. He had grown more serious in recent weeks, no longer making the lighthearted comments he used to. ¡°We need to stick together,¡± he muttered. ¡°The forest is one thing, but I¡¯m more worried about what¡ªor who¡ªwe¡¯ll run into out there. The Tower isn¡¯t the only place with eyes on us.¡±


    Suddenly, the massive gates in front of them began to groan, shifting with a deep rumble that echoed through the hall. The noise sent a thrill through the gathered recruits as the thick stone doors slowly swung open, revealing a blinding light that cut through the shadows of the Tower. The light split the hall like a blade, spilling over the stone floor and creating a dazzling path forward. The recruits leaned forward, drawn by the promise of adventure that lay just beyond.


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    The gates revealed the Stone Forest, its towering trees standing like ancient sentinels, their bark dark and twisted, covered in thick vines. The forest was shrouded in a light mist, with beams of sunlight breaking through the canopy to cast shifting patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. It looked both beautiful and forbidding, as if it held secrets and dangers that could either lead to great rewards or destruction.


    Glandel, standing to the side, raised his voice over the growing murmur of the recruits. ¡°Listen up,¡± he called out, his tone sharp and commanding. ¡°The Inner Perimeter is open to you now, but there are rules. Venture into the Outer Perimeter, and there will be consequences. Follow the rules, and you¡¯ll stay safe. Fight amongst yourselves, and you¡¯ll regret it.¡± His gaze swept over the crowd, making sure his words sank in. ¡°You¡¯re free to explore, but remember¡ªthis freedom comes with responsibility. Don¡¯t be stupid.¡±


    With that, Glandel stepped aside, and the recruits surged forward, their excitement palpable as they prepared to leave the Tower and head into the forest. Abel was just about to take a step when a sound came from above¡ªfootsteps on the grand staircase.


    All heads turned as a group of gifted recruits descended from the upper floors. They moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, their polished robes and elegant postures setting them apart from the non-gifted recruits. Abel felt the shift in the atmosphere immediately. The gifted group walked with an air of superiority, their expressions distant and dismissive, as if they had little regard for the others. It was clear they saw themselves as the elite.


    The non-gifted recruits parted automatically, stepping aside to allow the gifted to pass. There were murmurs, some of them bitter, and Abel noticed a few recruits glaring at the gifted with barely concealed resentment. The divide between the gifted and non-gifted had always been there, but now it was painfully obvious. As the gifted recruits strutted past with their noses in the air, Abel could feel the tension rise, but no one said a word.


    As the gifted group left the Tower, the non-gifted recruits stood frozen for a moment, the weight of that encounter lingering in the air. Then, as if shaking off an invisible pressure, the non-gifted began to move again, following the path out of the Tower and into the forest.


    Abel glanced at his companions. They had always been aware of the divide between the recruits, but today, it felt sharper. ¡°Let¡¯s just get moving,¡± he said quietly, nodding toward the open gates. ¡°We¡¯ve got things to do.¡±


    The group headed out, moving through the gates and stepping into the cool, misty air of the Stone Forest. The scent of earth and greenery filled Abel¡¯s lungs as they walked beneath the towering trees, the light dimming as the thick canopy overhead blocked out most of the sunlight. The forest felt alive, the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls filling the air. It was both beautiful and ominous, like stepping into another world.


    Isabella walked slightly ahead, her eyes scanning the underbrush for any signs of creatures or useful materials. Sena flexed his hands, clearly eager to test his strength in a real environment. Nando, though quieter, seemed more alert than usual, his eyes darting between the trees as if expecting something to jump out at them at any moment.

 Chapter 53: Flames and Failures

    Chapter 53: Flames and Failures


    The dense canopy of the Stone Forest loomed overhead, casting a familiar shroud of dimness that once unnerved Abel, Sena, Nando, and Isabella. Now, after their many encounters with its eerie quiet and shadow-filled depths, the darkness no longer unsettled them as it once had. Their senses were sharper, more attuned to the subtle sounds of the forest, and the foreboding atmosphere that had previously left them on edge now felt like an extension of the Tower¡¯s trials.


    They moved with purpose, the baskets on their backs swaying lightly with each step as they made their way deeper into the woods. The strange trees, twisted and gnarled, reached toward the sky like ancient sentinels, their branches intertwined to create a canopy so thick that only slivers of sunlight broke through. The air was cool, almost damp, carrying with it the earthy scent of moss and decaying leaves. Occasionally, the soft rustling of the underbrush would make one of them pause, but they were used to it now. They had seen enough to know that most of the forest''s tricks were just that¡ªtricks of the mind, meant to test their resolve.


    It was no longer the unnerving strangeness of the forest that troubled them. They had learned to move through it with confidence, alert but not fearful. Abel had heard murmurs from other recruits¡ªparticularly from the gifted¡ªabout how difficult they found the Stone Forest to navigate. Many of the gifted, despite their power, hadn¡¯t ventured outside as much as the non-gifted. The gifted had relied heavily on their privilege, rarely stepping into the forest except for specific tasks. Now that the gates had opened and the inner perimeter was theirs to explore, Abel wondered if the gifted recruits would struggle to adapt to the forest''s hidden dangers.


    Abel glanced at his companions, noticing how comfortable they had become in this environment. Sena¡¯s broad figure led the group, his hulking form no longer out of place among the towering trees. Nando moved with a quiet confidence, always prepared, while Isabella''s sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, her demeanor calm and collected. They had come far from the anxious recruits they had once been.


    Their progress through the forest was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle up ahead. Abel motioned for the others to stop as they crept forward quietly. The sounds of clashing, grunts, and the crackling of elemental magic filtered through the trees. As they neared a clearing, they spotted three gifted recruits engaged in a battle.


    The gifted recruits were fighting a grotesque creature¡ªsomething that resembled a massive frog with snail-like eyes protruding from its head. Its long, worm-like tongue lashed out violently, snapping at the recruits as it tried to get a hold of them. Isabella leaned closer to Abel and whispered, ¡°That¡¯s a Bodysnatcher. They implant their eggs into their victims if they manage to grab hold.¡±


    Abel grimaced at the thought, the idea of such a fate sending a shiver through him. But as he watched the gifted recruits battle, he noticed that they were struggling far more than he would have expected. They had elemental techniques at their disposal¡ªfire flared and spikes of earth rose from the ground¡ªbut the Bodysnatcher was proving to be a more formidable foe than they had anticipated.


    One of the gifted, a recruit with a fire affinity, shot a jet of flames toward the creature, scorching its slimy skin. The Bodysnatcher roared in pain but retaliated swiftly. Its grotesque tongue lashed out, faster than the recruit could react, and wrapped around his leg. He screamed as the tongue began to pull him toward the creature¡¯s gaping mouth, his hands frantically trying to free himself.


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    Another recruit, with an earth affinity, tried to help, summoning jagged spikes from the ground in an attempt to pierce the creature¡¯s body. But his aim was off, and the spikes only managed to graze the creature''s side, doing little to slow it down. The fire user struggled in the creature''s grip, his face contorted in pain as the Bodysnatcher''s tongue squeezed tighter.


    ¡°Help me!¡± the fire-controlling recruit shouted, panic edging into his voice.


    The earth-controlling recruit, clearly flustered, conjured another set of earth spikes, this time managing to land a hit that stabbed deep into the Bodysnatcher''s flank. The creature shrieked and loosened its grip, allowing the fire recruit to stumble backward, clutching his leg where the tongue had left deep bruises.


    But the fight was far from over. The Bodysnatcher reared up, its snail-like eyes twitching violently as it lashed out once again, this time aiming for the earth user. He tried to dodge, but the creature''s tongue snapped around his midsection, knocking the wind out of him and dragging him toward its maw.


    The fire user, despite his injured leg, gritted his teeth and summoned another jet of flames, aiming directly for the creature''s head. The flames engulfed its face, and the Bodysnatcher screeched in agony, thrashing wildly as it released the earth user. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath, his ribs clearly bruised.


    Despite their coordination, it was clear that the gifted recruits were barely holding their own. Their techniques, while powerful, were draining their energy fast, and the Bodysnatchers'' relentless attacks were pushing them to their limits. Abel could see the exhaustion in their movements, the way they hesitated just a little too long before each attack.


    Finally, with a combined effort, the fire recruit unleashed one last burst of flame, searing the creature¡¯s already scorched skin. The earth recruit, bleeding and battered, mustered the strength to summon another spike of earth, this time driving it directly through the creature''s chest. The Bodysnatcher let out a final, guttural shriek before collapsing to the ground in a smoldering heap.


    The recruits stood there, panting heavily, their bodies visibly shaking from the strain. The fire recruit clutched his leg, wincing in pain, while the earth recruit leaned against a tree, his chest rising and falling in labored breaths.


    They had won, but barely. Abel and his group exchanged glances, impressed at their elemental control but also reminded that even the gifted, with all their training and elemental powers, could be pushed to their limits.


    One of the gifted recruits, still catching his breath, turned to Abel¡¯s group with a sneer. ¡°What are you looking at? Screw off and don¡¯t bother our training.¡±


    His tone was harsh, filled with exhaustion and irritation, but Abel and the others weren¡¯t looking for trouble. They had only stopped to watch the fight out of curiosity.


    Without a word, Abel motioned for his group to move on. As they walked away, Nando glanced back at the battered recruits, shaking his head. ¡°Let them have their pride,¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re not as invincible as they think.¡±


    Sena, his hulking frame standing out even more in the forest''s dim light, cast a glance over his shoulder. He noticed the way the gifted had looked at him, their eyes lingering on his imposing size and strange crimson hair, but he said nothing, simply continuing forward.


    Abel kept walking, his mind swirling with thoughts of the fight. The gifted had more power at their disposal, but they had struggled¡ªreally struggled. It reminded him that the dangers of the forest didn¡¯t care about titles or magical prowess.

 Chapter 54: Battle in the Stone Forest

    Chapter 54: Battle in the Stone Forest


    As Abel, Sena, Nando, and Isabella ventured deeper into the dim expanse of the Stone Forest, they felt a familiar unease settle around them. Unlike their first ventures into the forest, however, this time the eerie shadows no longer unnerved them. The forest¡¯s twisted trees and unnatural silence were still unsettling, but they had experienced enough to adapt to its strangeness. Where once they had flinched at every rustling leaf or distant howl, now they moved with quiet confidence, their senses sharp and their abilities honed.


    The gifted recruits they had encountered earlier, however, were likely still adjusting to the environment. It was clear they struggled against the forest¡¯s oppressive atmosphere, something that Abel and his companions had already learned to deal with. Though the Stone Forest was still dangerous, Abel¡¯s group had learned to blend with its dark, winding paths, becoming part of the shadowy landscape rather than fighting against it.


    After a short while, the four came upon a new clearing. Standing in the shadows was a grotesque creature, its monstrous form barely visible in the dim light. It resembled a massive boar, but its appearance was far more revolting. Its body was covered in matted fur, slick with mud and disease. Patches of its flesh were raw and exposed, riddled with oozing sores. The beast¡¯s jagged tusks jutted out at odd angles from its gnarled face, and its eyes were sunken into its skull, giving it a wild, feral appearance.


    Abel recognized it immediately. ¡°A Dirtyhog,¡± he muttered under his breath. Poole had warned them about these creatures during one of his lectures. They were aggressive, filthy beasts, known for their tendency to call for reinforcements and fight in packs. Their tusks were prized for their unique magical properties, but getting close enough to harvest them was a dangerous task.


    Without warning, the Dirtyhog charged at them, its hooves thundering across the forest floor as it barreled toward them with terrifying speed.


    Abel was the first to react. His newfound agility kicked in, his body moving with a speed and grace he hadn¡¯t fully realized until now. He sidestepped the charging beast, his muscles responding effortlessly to the movement. As he evaded, he noticed his senses had sharpened¡ªhe could see even the faintest flicker of the boar¡¯s muscles beneath its thick hide, allowing him to anticipate its next move. The knife in his hand felt natural, as if it were an extension of his body, and he slashed at the boar¡¯s side with swift, precise strikes.


    Sena wasted no time. His hulking frame moved with surprising speed as he lunged toward the Dirtyhog. His fists, wrapped in the chain he had revealed earlier, connected with the beast¡¯s thick hide, sending it stumbling back. Sena¡¯s magical artifact, a chain imbued with restraining magic, uncoiled from his fists with a sharp snap. With a quick flick of his wrist, he lashed the chain around the Dirtyhog¡¯s legs, pulling it off balance. The beast thrashed wildly, but Sena¡¯s strength kept it pinned, the heavy chain digging into its filthy flesh.


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    Before they could finish the boar off, two more Dirtyhogs emerged from the underbrush, their bloodshot eyes locked onto the group as they charged in unison.


    Nando sprang into action, pulling a rolled parchment from the folds of his robe. With practiced precision, he unfurled the parchment and hurled it toward the nearest boar. The parchment glowed with a soft golden light as it arced through the air, landing squarely on the creature¡¯s snout. A moment later, the parchment exploded in a flash of energy, sending the Dirtyhog tumbling to the ground, disoriented and injured.


    Isabella moved swiftly, her movements fluid and controlled as she danced around the second boar. She pulled out her green Katar, its blade gleaming in the faint light as she slashed at the beast¡¯s legs. Each strike was calculated, weakening the boar¡¯s mobility until it could no longer keep up with her. As the creature staggered, bleeding from multiple wounds, Sena finished it off with a final, crushing blow to its skull.


    Meanwhile, Abel continued to fight, his movements growing more confident with each passing second. He could feel his body changing¡ªhis agility, his speed, and his reflexes had all improved dramatically. His eyes, once ordinary, now seemed capable of tracking even the smallest movement. The faintest twitch of a muscle or shift in weight from the creatures around him was immediately noticeable, allowing him to anticipate and evade with ease.


    after he dodged another attack and gave it a crippling slash, he felt a strange tingling sensation in his fingers. He glanced down briefly and noticed the tips of his fingers glowing with a faint, starry blue light. It wasn¡¯t the same glow he had noticed before¡ªthis light was different, ethereal, like the distant shimmer of stars. Confused and unsure of what it meant, Abel quickly hid his hand under his sleeve, not wanting to draw attention to it. Whatever it was, now wasn¡¯t the time to figure it out.


    Sena and Nando gave the final hog its deathblow leaving the bodies of three Dirtyhogs laying on the grass.


    With the Dirtyhogs finally defeated, the group set to work harvesting the valuable parts from the creatures. Abel used his knife to carve out the tusks, while Sena worked to gather the blood and bones, which were known to have unique magical properties. As they packed the materials into their baskets, they noticed the remains of one of the carcasses lying discarded on the ground.


    ¡°I want that,¡± Isabella said, stepping forward.


    From the sleeve of her robe, a small gray snake slithered out and moved toward the carcass. The snake swiftly consumed the remains before coiling itself back up Isabella¡¯s arm, disappearing back into her sleeve.


    The others watched in silence, slightly unnerved by the sight, but too tired to question it. Isabella simply smiled and said, ¡°It¡¯s my familiar.¡±


    No one pressed for further explanation.


    With their baskets full, they continued on their journey through the forest. The strange dimness of the Stone Forest, once terrifying, had now become something they could navigate with ease. They were learning, adapting, and growing stronger with each battle. The challenges of the Stone Forest, once daunting, were now opportunities to test their strength and skills.


    Abel, however, couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something inside him was changing. The starry blue light on his fingertips, the enhanced agility, the sharpness of his senses¡ªit was all connected, but he didn¡¯t yet understand how. For now, the mystery would have to wait.

 Chapter 55: Unveiling Strengths

    Chapter 55: Unveiling Strengths


    Almost a month had passed since the recruits of the Stone Tower had been granted the freedom to explore the inner perimeter, and in that time, Abel and the rest of Room Eighty had made significant progress. The days of tentative exploration were behind them, replaced by a growing confidence in their abilities and a deeper understanding of the powers they wielded.


    For Abel, his transformation had begun to reveal more secrets. The faint glow at his fingertips, once a mystery, now made sense. He had come to realize that the glowing signified a concentration of mana, one that was attuned to his connection with the stars. The starlight he absorbed was more than just a source of energy, it was unlocking something ancient within him. The fragmented memories of the Star Eater horror, which had initially felt like fleeting whispers, now came more frequently, filling his mind with knowledge he hadn¡¯t learned but instinctively understood.


    It was as if each night, as he gazed at the stars, he was unwrapping layers of an ancient power that had been passed down to him. He felt the subtle changes in his body. His heightened senses allowed him to hear the faintest rustle of leaves or feel the most delicate shift in the wind. His eyes, sharper than ever, could pick up even the slightest movement in the dimmest light, making the shadowy depths of the Stone Forest feel less menacing. In fact, in the moonlight or under the scattered glow of stars, the forest became almost a second home.


    This connection with the stars was not just physical. It was mental, almost spiritual. Abel had begun to understand how to harness starlight to enhance his agility, speed, and even his reactions. He could anticipate movements in battle before they happened, a gift of both his enhanced perception and the knowledge trickling into his mind from his strange transformation. But the true weight of his power came with the understanding that he was inheriting part of the Star Eater¡¯s nature¡ªa creature that consumed light and knowledge.


    The nickname "Stargazer," once whispered in hushed tones and used to mock him, had now taken on a new meaning. Recruits in the Tower began to speak of him with reverence, acknowledging his growing strength. It wasn¡¯t long before tales of his nightly vigils under the stars and his keen abilities began to spread. "Stargazer" had become a name of respect, even fear, as Abel''s reputation as a skilled and unique recruit solidified within the Tower¡¯s walls.


    Throughout his exploration and wanderings within the tower, he felt a sensation of being followed and watched much more intensely, as if someone in the tower was keeping tabs on him. Abel was only able to feel this presence lightly, and only due to slowly digesting his newfound boons. In addition, some of the other members were experiencing the same, leaving them to deduct that maybe the Tower was somehow keeping an eye on their group in case their transformations caused any type of issue. It made sense to Abel, therefore he tried to keep a low profile so as not to make the higher-ups in the tower feel suspicious of him becoming corrupted by their past experiments.


    But Abel wasn¡¯t the only one whose strength had grown. Sena, with his hulking figure and the fiery aura that radiated from him, had garnered his own share of attention. His physical transformation had been the most dramatic of the group. His once-brown hair had turned a deep crimson, and there was an unmistakable pressure around him that radiated heat. It was as if the air itself bent to his presence, growing warmer and more oppressive when he was near. His raw strength had made him a force to be reckoned with, and the recruits had taken notice.


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    Sena had earned the nickname Crimson Titan, and it was well-deserved. His sheer physical power, combined with his imposing stature and the chain he wielded, made him a fearsome opponent. Many of the non-gifted recruits kept their distance, wary of his temper and the almost volcanic energy that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. Even the gifted recruits had taken notice, giving him a wide berth in the hallways and casting nervous glances whenever he passed by.


    Isabella, though quieter than the others, had also made significant progress. Her connection with her small, gray snake familiar had grown stronger, and she had been feeding it regularly with the spoils of their hunts. The creature was growing, both in size and in the depth of its connection to Isabella. It was clear that her familiar was becoming a more potent force, and there was a glint in her eye whenever it slithered out of her sleeve to devour the remains of whatever creature they had slain. Isabella had also honed her combat skills, wielding her green Katar with deadly precision. She was quick, agile, and unafraid to get close to her enemies, always finding the weak points in their defenses.


    Nando, meanwhile, had been meticulous in his preparations. Though the ruins of the Black Alchemists had already been cleared by the time they found them, Nando had gleaned valuable knowledge from what they had left behind. His aptitude for inscriptions and his methodical approach to battle had made him a formidable strategist. He had gathered various resources, using them to further his experiments and create more powerful scrolls. His ability to fuse magical elements into parchment had reached a new level, and he was always ready with a scroll or explosive charm whenever they encountered danger.


    Together, the four of them¡ªAbel, Sena, Nando, and Isabella¡ªhad become a formidable group. Their synergy in battle was unmatched, and their combined strength was more than enough to handle the dangers of the inner perimeter. They had learned to trust each other, relying on their unique abilities to overcome obstacles and enemies alike.


    It wasn¡¯t just their power that had grown, but their reputation as well. Room Eighty had become known throughout the Tower for producing recruits that were not to be trifled with. Other recruits had started watching them closely, some with envy, others with admiration. The balance of power within the Tower was shifting, and it was clear that Room Eighty was no longer seen as a group of ordinary non-gifted recruits. They were rising, and everyone could feel it.


    Abel, now more attuned to the subtleties of power within the Tower, could sense the growing tension between the gifted and non-gifted. While the non-gifted recruits like himself and his friends were gaining recognition for their hard-earned strength, the gifted remained in their elevated position, enjoying privileges and resources that the non-gifted could only dream of. The divide between the two groups had only grown more palpable as time passed.


    Yet, Abel couldn''t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. There was a storm brewing in the Tower¡ªan undercurrent of unease that Abel could sense but not fully understand. With each passing day, the Tower revealed more of its mysteries, and Abel knew that if they were to survive, they would have to uncover them all. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Room Eighty was ready for whatever came next.


    For now, they continued gathering resources, training, and preparing for the inevitable challenges that lay ahead. The Stone Tower held many secrets, and Abel and his friends were determined to unlock them, one by one.

 Chapter 56: Nando’s Experiment

    Chapter 56: Nando¡¯s Experiment


    Today was a special day for Nando. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now, after countless hours of preparation, he was finally ready. He moved swiftly up the spiral stairs toward his room, his heart pounding in his chest. The glances from other recruits felt sharper than usual, but Nando knew the attention wasn¡¯t really directed at him. It was because he had been associated with Abel and Sena, whose reputations had grown steadily, casting a long shadow over everyone in their circle. Still, he ignored the stares. Today wasn¡¯t about them. Today was about him.


    Reaching his door, Nando pushed it open and slipped inside. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of what was about to happen. His room was cramped¡ªfar smaller than he would have liked for an experiment of this magnitude. The device, a knockoff of Fiendfinger¡¯s ancient experiment, dominated the space. Tubes coiled like snakes across the floor, and jars filled with strange, viscous liquids lined the shelves, some glowing faintly. The centerpiece, though, was a large jar sitting on his desk, containing a dark brown liquid. Suspended inside was the decayed hand of a Tombwalker¡ªa grotesque, withered limb with long, bony fingers.


    Nando had been working on this for months, pouring all of his time and resources into it. Every contribution point he earned had gone toward gathering materials or researching the ancient methods Fiendfinger had once used. But Nando, ever the clever strategist, hadn¡¯t merely replicated the experiment. He had altered it, modified the formula, made it his own. It wasn¡¯t just about absorbing the magical properties of the hand. No, Nando had a far more ambitious goal.


    He paced around the room, checking the tubes and the strange liquids one last time, making sure everything was in order. His heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The knowledge his family had passed down was invaluable, dark and ancient as it was. With this experiment, he wasn¡¯t just going to absorb the power of the hand; he was aiming to take a portion of the Tombwalker¡¯s essence itself. If this worked, he would no longer just be a regular recruit. He would be something more¡ªsomething feared.


    He told his friends earlier that day not to visit him, brushing off their concern with a smile. He didn¡¯t want them here for this. Not because he was afraid of failing, but because he needed to do it alone. This was his path, his strategy for elevating himself in the Tower.


    Taking a deep breath, Nando lay down on his bed, which he had modified to serve as the platform for the experiment. It wasn¡¯t as grand as Fiendfinger¡¯s original chair, but it would serve its purpose. He methodically began attaching the tubes to his body, feeling a sense of unease settle over him. A few stray thoughts flickered in his mind¡ªquestions, doubts, warnings. But he quickly pushed them aside. This was his moment.


    The tubes, connected to the jar containing the Tombwalker¡¯s hand, pulsed faintly, a sickly glow emanating from the liquid. Nando began to chant, his voice low and rhythmic, the ancient words wrapping around the room like a dark incantation. As he spoke, the sound in the room seemed to disappear, as though his words were absorbing the very air. The light dimmed, and soon, the room was pitch black, except for the ominous glow from the jar.


    Suddenly, the hand in the jar convulsed violently, its withered fingers twitching as if trying to escape. The light within the jar intensified, and Nando could feel the energy radiating from it. The liquid inside the jar began to swirl, then it surged through the tubes, rushing toward him in a brilliant display of light and shadow. It was both beautiful and terrifying.


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    As the energy reached him, Nando felt it invade his body. A sharp, searing pain coursed through him, and his muscles tensed as the power of the Tombwalker flooded his veins. Black veins spread across his skin, writhing like snakes as they etched themselves deeper into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He had expected pain, but this... this was almost unbearable.


    But Nando was no ordinary recruit. His mind, sharp and calculating, remained focused even through the agony. He wasn¡¯t just absorbing power¡ªhe was adapting it, controlling it, shaping it into something that would give him an edge in the Tower. As the power surged through him, he could feel his body changing, mutating in subtle ways. His mind raced with visions, memories not his own, fragments of the Tombwalker¡¯s existence.


    He couldn¡¯t help but laugh¡ªa soft, almost manic sound that echoed through the dark room. Not because he was losing control, but because he was so close. He could feel the power, the potential. He knew this would change everything. He had always played the game smarter than the others, and now, he would have the strength to match his intellect.


    Outside the room, Marcella, the Tower¡¯s ever-watchful librarian, paused in her duties. A strange current of mana had rippled through the Tower, and her sharp instincts immediately caught the disturbance. She frowned, her thoughts drifting back to Abel¡¯s room, which he had accidentally destroyed during his transformation. She also recalled the strange case of Gato, whose transformation had left him with feathers that could be used as deadly projectiles. The current batch of recruits was unlike any she had seen before. Their potential¡ªand their danger¡ªseemed to grow with each passing day.


    Marcella made her way up the tower, her heart heavy with curiosity and concern. The mana she sensed now was vile, almost corrupted, unlike anything she had felt from the other recruits. She reached Nando¡¯s door and paused, her hand hovering just over the entrance to his room. The door itself trembled slightly, and she could feel the vile aura emanating from within.


    Back in the room, Nando lay still, the black veins throbbing across his skin as the final waves of power settled into him. His body felt... different. Stronger, but also strange. The connection to the Tombwalker, however faint, had left its mark. He had taken not just its power, but part of its essence. His experiment had succeeded¡ªhe could feel it in every fiber of his being.


    But as the last of the energy flowed through him, a strange calm washed over Nando. His manic laughter died down, replaced by the cold, calculating mind that had always guided him. The power was his, and he would use it, but he knew that this was only the beginning. The Tower was full of rivals, and now, he was ready for them.


    Marcella¡¯s hand finally touched the door, and she hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing it open. The sight inside made her breath catch. Nando lay on the bed, his body marked with black veins that were almost hidden under the robe, but the aura of corruption lingered in the air. The room was still, but the damage had been done noticing some black veins on his neck and ending near his chin.


    "Nando?" she asked cautiously, stepping inside.


    Nando turned his head slowly, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Marcella," he said softly, his voice calm. "I wasn¡¯t expecting company."


    Marcella narrowed her eyes, studying him carefully. There was something different about him¡ªsomething dark and dangerous. But she kept her voice even. "What have you done?"


    Nando¡¯s smile widened slightly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief and determination. "I¡¯ve simply leveled the playing field."


    Marcella remained silent, her gaze never leaving his. She could feel the shift in him, the corruption that clung to him like a second skin. This batch of recruits... they were dangerous indeed

 Chapter 57: The Divide

    Chapter 57: The Divide


    Ronald, Tina, and Edmund moved carefully through the dim, eerie depths of the Stone Forest. The forest always felt alive, like it was breathing just out of sight, its strange sounds creeping up on them at unpredictable moments. Twisted roots jutted out from the forest floor, snaking in between the trees like the tendrils of some forgotten creature. In the stillness, the occasional rustle of leaves or snap of a twig set their hearts racing, their nerves on edge. It had been over a month since the Tower had opened the gates to the Inner Perimeter, and yet the unsettling nature of the forest never seemed to fade.


    Ronald couldn''t shake the feeling that the Stone Forest was watching them. The dim light barely penetrated the dense canopy, casting strange shadows across the ground. Every time they ventured out, there was a creeping sense of something unnatural lurking just beyond their vision. The oppressive atmosphere clung to him like a second skin. He hated it. He glanced at Tina and Edmund, noticing the tension in their faces. Even they, with all their confidence and pride as gifted, were on edge. But they would never admit it.


    Tina broke the silence first, her voice dripping with disdain. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the non-gifted walking around here like they¡¯re invincible. It¡¯s laughable. They don¡¯t even realize how pathetic they are.¡± Her tone was casual, but there was an undeniable venom behind her words. She kicked a rock aside as they walked, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Freaks. Some of them will be lucky if their experiments don¡¯t turn them into something worse than what we fight out here.¡±


    Edmund nodded, his face twisted into a sneer. ¡°They¡¯re used to filth. It¡¯s no surprise they¡¯re not as afraid of dark and dirty places. They¡¯ve lived like that their whole lives. We¡¯re different¡ªthis is beneath us. We come from families that understand magic and have wealth and power. We weren¡¯t meant for crawling around in the mud.¡± His voice was sharp, with a layer of superiority that Ronald had come to expect from him. ¡°Besides, once we¡¯ve grasped our mana fully, none of this will matter. We¡¯ll be able to crush anything that comes our way.¡±


    Ronald stayed quiet, his stomach twisting with discomfort. He had been around Tina and Edmund, and their haughty attitudes weren¡¯t new to him. They both came from noble families with deep connections to magic¡ªfamilies that had given them a head start in understanding mana and its applications. For them, the non-gifted were little more than pests, an inferior group destined to struggle and fail. But Ronald couldn¡¯t help but feel a strange sense of unease as he listened to them. He¡¯d met non-gifted recruits before, Sena, Nando, Abel, and Isabella, and they were anything but weak. In fact, they seemed stronger in ways that made him question everything he''d been taught.


    As they traversed deeper into the eastern part of the forest, Tina¡¯s eyes flickered with suspicion. ¡°Ronald, remind me again, why did you want to come out here? You¡¯ve been quiet since we left the Tower.¡±


    Ronald hesitated. He had brought them to the eastern lakes under the guise of gathering resources, but the truth was far more complicated. He had been delving into some non-gifted research recently, and the thought of exposing that to his friends made him uneasy. He knew how they would react, but he had hoped¡ªfoolishly, perhaps¡ªthat they might understand.


    ¡°I... I¡¯ve been looking into something,¡± Ronald began, his voice tentative. ¡°Something tied to non-gifted techniques.¡±


    There was a sharp pause. Tina and Edmund exchanged incredulous glances before bursting into laughter.


    ¡°Non-gifted techniques?¡± Tina scoffed, her voice dripping with mockery. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding. Why in the world would you waste your time on that?¡±


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    Edmund¡¯s smile was smug as he shook his head. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious, Ronald. We¡¯re gifted. Why would you even think about dabbling in something so beneath us? It¡¯s pointless.¡±


    Ronald felt his face flush with frustration. He had expected ridicule, but it still stung to hear their dismissal. ¡°It¡¯s not about that,¡± he said, trying to keep his voice steady. ¡°It¡¯s about power. The non-gifted have found ways to become stronger, to manipulate magic in ways we haven¡¯t even considered. And if it makes us stronger¡ªstrong enough to protect the Tower, to protect humanity¡ªthen why does it matter where the knowledge comes from?¡±


    Tina folded her arms, her expression turning cold. ¡°Because it¡¯s dirty magic, Ronald. It''s unnatural. The non-gifted are obsessed with trying to keep up with us, but they¡¯ll never succeed. We have the real power. We¡¯re the ones who will make a difference.¡±


    Edmund nodded in agreement, his voice laced with scorn. ¡°You need to rethink this, Ronald. We¡¯re above that. The non-gifted can scramble for scraps all they want, but in the end, they¡¯ll still be beneath us. Let them rot.¡±


    Ronald clenched his fists, feeling the weight of their words. He had hoped to convince them to see the bigger picture, to understand that strength was the only thing that mattered in the end. But it was clear they couldn¡¯t¡ªor wouldn¡¯t¡ªsee past their own arrogance. Defeated, he nodded. ¡°Fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s just go.¡±


    Just as they turned to leave, a sharp sound pierced the air¡ªa low, guttural growl that sent shivers down their spines. Ronald spun around just in time to see a large, grotesque creature lunging at them from the shadows. It resembled a rat but was far larger and more nightmarish, with glowing red eyes and jagged teeth that dripped with saliva. A dark, pulsating aura clung to its mangy fur, making it clear this was no ordinary creature¡ªit was tainted with some twisted form of magic.


    ¡°Get back!¡± Edmund shouted, his hand already reaching for his mana, but the creature was fast¡ªfaster than they had anticipated.


    Tina was the first to react, drawing upon her earth affinity. The ground beneath her feet trembled, and with a swift motion, she summoned a jagged wall of stone, blocking the creature¡¯s initial charge as she also made her skin tougher. The beast slammed into the barrier, snarling viciously, but it didn¡¯t stop. It clawed its way up the stone, leaping over the top with terrifying speed.


    Ronald felt his heart race as he tried to summon his own mana. His hands glowed faintly with the blue hue of water affinity, but the creature was relentless, swiping at him with razor-sharp claws. He dodged, narrowly avoiding the strike, but his mind was racing¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just any forest creature. It was something far worse.


    Edmund finally unleashed his own power, focusing his fire mana into a whip of flame that engulfed the creature¡¯s side. The rat-like beast screeched in pain, its fur catching fire, but it didn¡¯t fall. Instead, it turned its glowing red eyes on Edmund, snarling with a terrifying intensity. It lunged again, but this time Ronald was ready.


    With a quick motion, Ronald sent a surge of water mana toward the creature, the liquid striking its burning body. It struggled, the flames sizzling against the water. Tina took the opportunity to strike, sending a earthen strike on the creature followed by picking up a stone on the side and smashing it down on its side, finally pinning it to the ground.


    They stood there, panting and shaken, as the creature writhed beneath the stone before finally going still.


    ¡°We need to get out of here,¡± Tina said, her voice breathless but steady. ¡°This place is worse than I thought.¡±


    Ronald glanced at the creature, his mind still racing. He offered to heal the minor injuries they had sustained, but both Tina and Edmund shook their heads, rejecting his help. It was clear the tension between them hadn¡¯t been lessened by the fight¡ªif anything, it had grown worse.


    ¡°We¡¯re leaving,¡± Edmund said, his voice firm. ¡°This was a waste of time. Let¡¯s get back to the Tower.¡±


    Ronald watched as they turned and started back toward the Tower, leaving him standing there alone. He felt a strange mix of defeat and frustration, but also something else¡ªdetermination. He knew what he had to do.

 Chapter 58: The Familiars Feast

    Chapter 58: The Familiar''s Feast


    Isabella moved quietly through the forest, the eerie silence of the Stone Forest not bothering her in the slightest. The twisted trees and strange sounds that made even seasoned recruits tense up had no effect on her. She had grown used to the murmurings and strange energies in this place. After all, her mind was preoccupied with more pressing matters.


    She walked alone, her soft footsteps blending into the forest floor, seemingly talking to herself. The other recruits had begun to notice her strange behavior, the mumblings, the half-conversations, and the occasional odd glance around as if someone unseen were answering her back. It didn¡¯t take long before they had started calling her "Witch."


    Abel had his nickname, "Stargazer," and Sena had become known as the "Crimson Titan," both names filled with a mix of awe and respect. Isabella¡¯s title, however, carried the weight of disdain. People whispered that she was losing her mind, cursed by some unseen force. But those closest to her, the members of Room Eighty, knew the truth. They knew that Isabella wasn¡¯t speaking to herself¡ªshe was talking to her familiar, the small gray snake she had been nurturing for over a month now.


    Isabella glanced down at the creature as it slithered beneath her cloak, barely noticeable to the outside observer. ¡°I¡¯ve fed you so much already,¡± she whispered softly, as if the snake could sense her growing impatience. ¡°How much more do you need?¡±


    Though no audible response came, Isabella felt the snake¡¯s thoughts pulse through her mind¡ªa strange connection that had deepened over the weeks. More, the snake seemed to say, its mental voice smooth and cool. I¡¯m growing stronger, but I need more magical beasts. Their essence fuels me.


    Isabella sighed. She knew the snake¡¯s growth had been slow, but she also knew this process was necessary. Her family, deeply connected to serpents for generations, had passed down the knowledge of raising and bonding with snake familiars. The bond was unique, and when her familiar fully matured, it would become more than just an animal. It would merge with her, becoming her mana pool¡ªan extension of herself in the purest sense. This process was familiar to her, and it was a guarantee, unlike the knowledge book she possessed before, in which there was simply a chance of creating a mana pool. In addition to the possible corruption, it was not better than her other options.


    The old scrolls and her grandmother¡¯s teachings had prepared her for this, but the reality of waiting for the familiar¡¯s evolution was harder than expected. She glanced toward the trees as she moved, the cool breeze stirring the leaves, adding to the unsettling aura that lingered in the forest. One day, she thought, one day, I¡¯ll return home with you fully grown, and we¡¯ll restore what¡¯s been lost to my family.


    Yet, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being left behind. Abel had garnered admiration with his strange powers, and Sena, with his raw strength, had earned respect even from the gifted. Nando had recently joined their ranks with his own experiments and mysterious progress. But Isabella¡­ she still felt like the girl with a knife and a snake. Her Katar techniques had improved, but it wasn¡¯t magic. Not like the powers her friends were developing. Still, she had faith in her familiar. Soon, they would both ascend.


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    Her snake slithered beneath her robe as if sensing her thoughts. It had grown strong, able to expand to a massive size¡ªa six-meter-long creature capable of paralyzing foes with a single bite. She had fed it well, and the snake was finally beginning to reveal its true potential. It was no longer just a pet; it was a weapon.


    Isabella¡¯s thoughts were interrupted when she noticed movement in the distance. A rat-like creature, its fur patchy and its body grotesque, slinked between the trees. She recognized it immediately¡ªa magical beast. Its eyes gleamed with a savage intelligence that betrayed its rat-like appearance. If Ronald had been here, he would have recognized it from his own encounter. But Isabella wasn¡¯t afraid. She murmured to her snake, preparing for the fight ahead.


    Before she could make her move, however, a voice called out from behind her.


    ¡°Witch!¡±


    Isabella didn¡¯t need to turn to know who it was. Three gifted recruits had appeared from the shadows, all wearing smug expressions. She had seen them around before but had never bothered to learn their names. They were nothing more than annoyances¡ªarrogant and dismissive of anyone who wasn¡¯t gifted like them.


    ¡°Get lost,¡± one of them sneered, stepping forward. ¡°That beast isn¡¯t something you can handle alone. Let the gifted take care of it.¡±


    The others chuckled, their eyes gleaming with superiority. One of them leaned forward, smirking. ¡°We¡¯ll do it out of pity for you, crazy witch. You don¡¯t belong out here.¡±


    Isabella¡¯s hand tightened around her Katar. She murmured softly to her snake again, and one of the gifted recruits laughed. ¡°There she goes again, talking to herself. What¡¯s wrong, Witch? Losing your mind?¡±


    With calm precision, Isabella turned to face them. ¡°I¡¯m not alone,¡± she said, her voice steady but cold.


    The gifted recruits exchanged mocking glances. ¡°Not alone?¡± one of them scoffed. ¡°What, did you bring more freaks with you?¡±


    Isabella ignored their taunts and instead murmured again. A soft hiss echoed from her robe as the small gray snake began to slither out. The recruits, still confident in their abilities, barely glanced at it. ¡°Oh look, she brought a pet. How cute. Maybe we¡¯ll hunt two magical beasts today.¡±


    But as the snake began to grow, their confidence faltered. The serpent expanded, its body thickening, muscles rippling beneath its scales. It grew and grew until it towered over them, six meters long and as wide as Sena¡¯s thighs. Its forked tongue flickered in the air, tasting their fear.


    The recruits stepped back, their expressions no longer mocking but cautious, even afraid. The rat creature that had been ready to attack also paused, its instincts kicking in as it took a step back, its sharp teeth bared, but its body hesitating.


    Isabella smirked, her eyes gleaming. ¡°I told you. I¡¯m not alone.¡±


    One of the recruits, clearly shaken, spat on the ground. ¡°Freak,¡± he muttered, backing away. ¡°This whole Tower¡¯s full of freaks.¡±


    Without another word, the three gifted recruits turned and left, casting wary glances over their shoulders as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest. Isabella watched them go, her heart steady, her mind focused. She turned back to the rat creature, her smirk returning.


    ¡°Dinner is ready,¡± she whispered to her snake.


    The massive serpent lunged forward, quick as lightning, sinking its fangs into the rat¡¯s side. The beast screeched, its body twitching as the paralysis set in, rendering it helpless. The snake coiled around it, crushing it with ease before devouring the creature whole.


    Isabella stood in silence, watching her familiar feed. The eerie stillness of the forest returned, but Isabella felt none of the tension that plagued the other recruits. Her bond with her snake had deepened, and with every battle, they grew stronger together.


    The whispers about her in the Tower didn¡¯t bother her anymore. Let them call her a witch. Soon, they would see what true power looked like.

 Chapter 59: A Celestial Encounter

    Chapter 59: A Celestial Encounter


    The Stone Forest during the night was a different world. Most recruits wouldn¡¯t dare venture into its depths once the sun set, for the forest seemed to come alive with whispers, shifting shadows, and unseen threats. But Abel was not like most recruits. The darkness no longer frightened him. Instead, it felt almost like home.


    As he moved through the dense undergrowth, the dim starlight filtering through the canopy above, Abel¡¯s eyes adjusted effortlessly. His transformation had sharpened his senses beyond what he had ever thought possible. Where others saw darkness, he saw detail¡ªthe soft glow of starlight illuminating every branch, every leaf, and every twitch of the creatures lurking in the shadows. His ears picked up the faintest rustle of movement, and even his skin seemed to tingle with the energy of the night air.


    The Stone Forest had terrified him once. But now, it was simply an extension of himself.


    Tonight, Abel was experimenting with his newfound abilities. His connection to the stars had grown stronger, and with each night of stargazing, he felt his power deepen. The more he absorbed starlight, the more his vision sharpened, and his body became faster, more agile, and strangely attuned to the world around him. The overwhelming trance that had once overtaken him when stargazing was gone¡ªnow, he could gaze at the stars and still remain fully aware of his surroundings. It was as if the stars themselves were whispering secrets directly to him.


    As he stopped in a small clearing, Abel gazed up through the breaks in the canopy, his glowing eyes reflecting the light of the stars. He could feel it¡ªsomething more. Starlight felt similar to mana, and he could sense its flow through his body, like a current of energy surging through him. His heart raced with excitement. This wasn¡¯t just some random power¡ªit was an affinity, a connection to something ancient and powerful. The stars had chosen him.


    His eyes glowed with a faint, starry blue light, and he couldn''t help but smile. "Finally," he muttered under his breath, "I''m sensing mana."


    The realization filled him with a strange sense of fulfillment. Abel had known that non-gifted recruits would eventually develop an elemental affinity though their means, but it would always be something uncommon, something outside the typical six elements the gifted were born with. For him, it was clear now, his affinity was connected to the stars, to the very light that filled the sky above him.


    But just as he was about to revel in his newfound power, something caught his attention. Through the canopy, in the corner of his vision, he noticed the movement of a shadow. It was subtle, hidden beneath the thick cover of trees, but it happened, there was a shift in the cold night. His senses heightened, Abel could feel a presence, a figure standing just out of sight. Whatever, it was, it wasn¡¯t a beast. It was human.


    Without moving, Abel¡¯s glowing eyes shifted toward the direction of the shadow. His heightened awareness tingled, and he could almost feel the eyes of the hidden figure locked onto him.


    ¡­


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    In the shadows of the forest, Agatha watched him.


    She had heard the rumors¡ªwhispers of Stargazer, the non-gifted recruit with strange, glowing eyes who had been touched by something unnatural. But now, seeing him in person, standing beneath the stars with that eerie glow in his eyes, Agatha felt a chill run down her spine. She had always prided herself on remaining unseen, her darkness affinity allowing her to blend seamlessly into the shadows, but tonight¡­ tonight was different.


    Even hidden in the deepest shadow, she felt exposed. Stargazer¡¯s glowing eyes were fixed on her, as if he could see right through the darkness. For a moment, her confidence wavered. How could he see her? No one ever saw her.


    She stayed perfectly still, her heart pounding in her chest. But there was something unsettling about the way Stargazer held himself. He seemed calm, almost serene, as if he was aware of everything around him.


    Then, to her shock, Stargazer spoke, his voice breaking through the silence of the night.


    "How long are you going to stay there?" he asked, his tone almost casual, but laced with certainty.


    Agatha froze, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she thought he was bluffing¡ªhe couldn''t possibly see her. But the way his glowing eyes followed her, as though they were locked in an unspoken stare, sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She was used to the darkness, used to being unseen, but now it felt like she was the one being watched.


    Realizing she had no choice, Agatha stepped out from the shadows, her pitch-black hair catching the faint glimmer of starlight as she revealed herself. She stared at Abel, trying to mask her shock with a cool expression.


    "How did you see me?" she asked, her voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of disbelief.


    Abel didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, observing her with a calm intensity. "People have their secrets," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "What do you want? Did you come here to mock me for being non-gifted?"


    Agatha frowned, shaking her head. "No," she replied. "I¡¯m not like the others."


    Abel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.


    "I don¡¯t care about status or privilege," Agatha said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I don¡¯t agree with the gifted recruits who think they¡¯re better just because of their birthright. I care about power, real power. And I know you¡¯ve already grasped the concept of mana. I can feel it¡ªyou¡¯re closer to a breakthrough than most of the gifted here."


    Abel was silent for a moment, studying her carefully. There was a sincerity in her voice that he hadn¡¯t expected, and it intrigued him. "I appreciate that," he said, his glowing eyes softening slightly. "But the work is never done. There¡¯s still so much I need to figure out."


    Agatha nodded in understanding. "We all have our paths. But I¡¯m telling you¡ªwhat you have, what you¡¯re doing, it¡¯s going to take you far. The Tower is going to see a new Apostle one day."


    The two stood in silence for a moment, the tension easing slightly as they acknowledged the weight of their shared ambitions. Agatha then stepped back, her form starting to blur as the darkness around her seemed to bend and twist, swallowing her whole.


    "My name is Agatha," she said, her voice fading into the night. "I¡¯ll be watching your progress, Stargazer."


    And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Abel alone once more beneath the stars.


    He let out a slow breath, his glowing eyes reflecting the starlight as he returned to his stargazing. Whatever lay ahead, he was ready to face it.


    The night as long as there were stars in the sky, it was his domain.

 Chapter 60: Seeking Forgiveness, Seeking Power

    Chapter 60: Seeking Forgiveness, Seeking Power


    The hallways of the Gifted Floor were quiet, the stone walls glistening under the soft light of the enchanted sconces. Ronald stepped out of his room, his expression unreadable as he moved with purpose through the corridor. He had been avoiding Edmund and Tina ever since their confrontation in the Stone Forest, and he could feel the weight of their disdain before he even saw them.


    As expected, Edmund and Tina stood in the main hall, chatting with two other gifted recruits. The moment they spotted Ronald, their conversation slowed, and their gazes hardened. Ronald could feel the sting of their judgment. Edmund¡¯s eyes were cold, and Tina¡¯s lips twisted into a faint sneer, as if mocking him for daring to defy their expectations.


    But Ronald didn¡¯t flinch. He knew they didn¡¯t support his choice to explore non-gifted methods to enhance his strength, but he had already made peace with it. Gloomeyes and Wolf had also faced ridicule for walking unconventional paths, but now they stood as Apostles¡ªtheir success spoke for itself. Ronald was determined to follow his own path, no matter how much the other gifts looked down on him.


    ¡°They¡¯ll see,¡± Ronald thought as he walked past them, his steps unwavering. ¡°Once I become stronger and prove that this path works, they¡¯ll have no choice but to respect me.¡±


    He didn¡¯t look back at Edmund or Tina as he headed toward the stairs leading down to the non-gifted floor. The air grew cooler as he descended, the warmth of the gifted floor fading behind him. The second floor, where the non-gifted recruits lived, was a stark contrast¡ªdarker, smaller, more confined. But Ronald wasn¡¯t here for comfort. He was here to make amends and prove his worth.


    ¡­


    The scene shifted to Sena''s room, where the four of them¡ªSena, Abel, Nando, and Isabella¡ªsat gathered in the dimly lit space. The small room felt warm despite the cool air outside, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. They were deep in conversation, each of them reflecting on their recent changes.


    ¡°Nando, you ever gonna get a nickname like the rest of us?¡± Sena teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.


    Nando, always quick with a joke, grinned. ¡°What, ¡®Shadowlord¡¯ doesn¡¯t suit me?¡± he quipped, referring to the dark aura that seemed to cling to him ever since his transformation. ¡°Though, if you ask me, Isabella¡¯s the one with the best nickname. Snakewitch¡ªnow that¡¯s a title.¡±


    Isabella chuckled, her gray snake lazily coiled around her arm. ¡°Yeah, after some recruits saw my snake grow, they¡¯ve been calling me Snakewitch behind my back,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°Not sure if it¡¯s a compliment or a curse, but I¡¯ll take it.¡±


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    ¡°Sounds better than Stargazer if you ask me,¡± Abel chimed in, though his tone was light. ¡°At least Snakewitch has some bite.¡±


    Nando leaned back, his expression shifting from playful to contemplative. ¡°At least people are calling you something,¡± he muttered, rolling up the sleeve of his robe to reveal the black veins crawling up his arm. ¡°All they do is avoid me like I¡¯m carrying the plague.¡±


    The group fell silent for a moment as they studied the dark tendrils spreading across Nando¡¯s skin. It wasn¡¯t just the veins¡ªthe aura surrounding Nando had changed too. There was something unsettling about it, something that made people instinctively keep their distance.


    ¡°Those veins¡­¡± Abel began, ¡°Do they feel foreign? Like they¡¯re something added to you?¡±


    Nando shook his head, running his fingers over the black lines. ¡°No. That¡¯s the thing¡ªit doesn¡¯t feel like some outside force. It feels¡­ natural, like these veins were always there, just waiting to be unlocked.¡±


    Sena nodded, understanding the sentiment. ¡°Same with my strength. It¡¯s like my body¡¯s been holding back, and now that I¡¯ve tapped into it, it¡¯s just¡­ there.¡±


    Isabella glanced at Sena, who had already gained a reputation for his overwhelming power. ¡°You¡¯ve been tempering yourself, haven¡¯t you? Going out of the tower and fighting creatures just to keep the burn under control?¡±


    Sena shrugged. ¡°Helps keep the fire in check. And since I don¡¯t need all the spoils, I¡¯ve been trading them in for contribution points. Isabella¡¯s been getting the leftovers, so it¡¯s a win-win.¡±


    Nando raised an eyebrow. ¡°Guess that¡¯s why you¡¯ve got all the cool nicknames. Crimson Titan¡ªpretty fitting.¡±


    Sena laughed. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t ask for it, but I¡¯ll take it.¡±


    Just as they were about to continue their conversation, a knock echoed from the door. Abel¡¯s senses, heightened since his transformation, had already alerted him to someone¡¯s presence. The gray snake around Isabella¡¯s arm stirred slightly, sensing the shift in the room¡¯s atmosphere.


    Sena stood, his massive frame blocking the light as he moved toward the door. When he opened it, standing there was Ronald¡ªhis small, slight figure a stark contrast to Sena¡¯s towering form.


    For a moment, Ronald hesitated, adjusting his glasses as if to steady himself. The pressure in the room was almost suffocating. Sena¡¯s aura was intense¡ªfar more intense than Ronald had expected.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Sena¡¯s voice was low, almost a growl.


    Ronald cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. ¡°I came to apologize,¡± he said, his voice steady despite the tension. ¡°And I have information, useful information, that I think you¡¯ll want to hear. I just¡­ I want to make amends.¡±


    The words hung in the air for a moment, surprising everyone. Gifted recruits didn¡¯t usually apologize, especially not to the non-gifted. Sena looked back at the others, who exchanged glances before nodding. Information was valuable, and an apology from a gifted wasn¡¯t something they could afford to ignore.


    Sena stepped aside, allowing Ronald to enter. ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°Come in. Let¡¯s hear what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    Ronald stepped inside, feeling the weight of their gazes on him as the door closed behind him. The room was small and humble compared to the luxurious spaces on the gifted floor, but Ronald didn¡¯t care about that. He was here to prove himself.


    As he took a seat, he could feel the unease in the air. But he was ready. This was his chance to make things right¡ªand he wouldn¡¯t waste it.

 Chapter 61: Upcoming Expeditions

    Chapter 61: Upcoming Expeditions


    The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as Ronald stood in front of Abel, Nando, Isabella, and Sena. The flickering light from the single lantern cast long, dancing shadows on the stone walls, amplifying the feeling of unease in the cramped space. Ronald¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the pressure mounting with every passing second.


    He had expected this meeting to be difficult, but not like this. The weight of their collective gazes made it almost impossible to focus. Nando, with his dark aura and unsettling black veins, looked predatory, like a beast ready to pounce. His expression was blank, but there was a sense of danger radiating from him, an almost feral intensity that kept Ronald on edge. Sena was no better. He sat with his hulking form slouched, his eyes burning with a primal intensity that made Ronald feel like prey. There was something wild about him, like a barbarian waiting for the right moment to strike. Abel was the most composed, but his glowing eyes pierced through Ronald¡¯s composure. That quiet, mysterious air Abel had always carried was now magnified, making him seem even more unsettling, like he knew far more than he let on. Isabella, however, was the one who unnerved Ronald the most. It wasn¡¯t just her presence¡ªit was the feeling that two entities were staring at him, the sense that her familiar was observing him as well. The subtle movement of the gray snake coiled around her wrist only added to the tension.


    Ronald swallowed hard, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as Nando leaned forward, his voice cutting through the silence with an impatient snap. ¡°Speak up already, Ronald. What¡¯s all this about?¡±


    Ronald straightened, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He had prepared for this moment, but the pressure in the room made it hard to think clearly. ¡°I¡­ I have information,¡± he began, his voice shaky but gaining strength. ¡°Information about the upcoming expeditions."


    The mention of expeditions caught their attention, and Ronald noticed how their gazes sharpened. He continued, feeling the need to prove himself. ¡°I¡¯ve been hearing things¡ªrumors, details that others haven¡¯t been privy to. It¡¯s about the kingdom, about the Bask Territory to the south. The kingdom is large, yes, but it doesn¡¯t cover the entire continent. Much of the southern lands remain unexplored, and they stretch far until they meet the Southern Isles along the ocean¡¯s edge.¡±


    Sena leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°The Stone Tower, where we are, is in the center of the Bask Territory,¡± Ronald explained. ¡°But there are two other Towers in the region, far apart from each other on opposite sides of the Stone Tower, each with its own politics and territory to manage. We¡¯re separate from them. These Towers are newer, just like ours, and have their own apostles, their own dynamics. They¡¯re preparing expeditions just like we are.¡±


    Nando¡¯s eyes narrowed, his impatience growing. ¡°Get to the point, Ronald. What about the expeditions?¡±


    Ronald nodded, pushing forward. ¡°There will be five expeditions coming up in a few months within this bask territory which we reside. Two of them will involve delving into forgotten ruins¡ªplaces that haven¡¯t been explored in centuries. Dangerous, but the rewards could be unimaginable. Two more expeditions are about securing magical mines and fruit farms that are being attacked by vile creatures and dark forces. These are important for the Tower''s resources.¡±


    Isabella¡¯s fingers tightened around her katar as she listened, her snake coiling tighter on her arm, its small tongue flicking out as if sensing the tension.


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    Ronald hesitated for a moment before dropping the real bombshell. ¡°And then there¡¯s the fifth expedition. It¡¯s the one we need to avoid. It involves restraining a magical terror.¡±


    Abel, who had been silent until now, spoke, his voice calm but carrying an edge of curiosity. ¡°A terror? What exactly is that?¡±


    Ronald felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of the creature. ¡°A terror is¡­ well, it¡¯s not quite a Horror, but it¡¯s close. It¡¯s a monster, a terrifying creature with abilities that make it a nightmare to face. Even apostles struggle with them. It would take several apostles to bring one down, and even then, it¡¯s not guaranteed.¡±


    The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation settled in. The idea of facing a terror¡ªa creature that could potentially challenge apostles¡ªwas terrifying, even for these recruits, who had seen their fair share of danger.


    Sena cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing in the room. ¡°And who¡¯s leading these expeditions?¡± he asked, his voice low and serious.


    Ronald continued, his confidence growing slightly. ¡°Each expedition will be led by an Apostle. Gloomeyes, Wolf, Salamander, Gravedigger, and Threeeyes. For the terror mission, Greenthumb will assist Salamander.¡±


    Isabella raised an eyebrow. ¡°Salamander and Greenthumb handling a terror together?¡± she mused. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them¡­ That¡¯s no small task.¡±


    Nando, ever the pragmatist, leaned forward again, his dark aura flaring slightly. ¡°You¡¯re telling us we get to choose which expedition to go on?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ronald replied. ¡°We¡¯ll have the choice, it''s the way it seems to have been since the tower opened. But I wanted to warn you about the terror. That¡¯s not something anyone should face unless they have a death wish.¡±


    Abel nodded thoughtfully, his glowing eyes narrowing. ¡°And you¡¯re sharing this with us because¡­?¡±


    Ronald hesitated again. This was the hard part. ¡°Because I don¡¯t agree with the way the gifted treat the non-gifted,¡± he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s right. The prejudice, the arrogance¡­ it¡¯s wrong. We¡¯re all trying to become apostles, to protect the kingdom, to grow stronger. When we make it¡ªwhen we become apostles¡ªI want us to break that stigma, to prove that the non-gifted are just as valuable as the gifted.¡±


    For a moment, no one said anything. Ronald could feel their gazes on him, weighing his words, judging his sincerity. Nando¡¯s lips twitched as if he was about to crack a joke, but he remained silent, his expression unusually serious.


    Isabella was the first to speak, her voice soft but firm. ¡°It¡¯s rare to hear that kind of honesty from a gifted recruit.¡±


    Abel nodded in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ve heard plenty of words like that before in life, but actions speak louder. Still, it¡¯s good to know there are some gifted who don¡¯t look down on us.¡±


    Sena glanced at the others, then back at Ronald. ¡°We¡¯ll think about what you¡¯ve said,¡± he rumbled. ¡°If you really want to prove yourself, you can come to one of our meetings in a few days.¡±


    Ronald felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn¡¯t exactly an acceptance, but it wasn¡¯t a rejection either. He stood, bowing his head slightly. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Without another word, he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, his thoughts raced. He had taken the first step, but the path ahead was still uncertain. Whether or not they would accept him, he didn¡¯t know. But at least now, he had a chance.


    Inside the room, the four recruits remained silent for a moment, each of them processing the conversation. Nando was the first to speak, his usual grin returning. ¡°Well, that was unexpected. A gifted apologizing. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d live to see the day.¡±


    Abel chuckled. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s hope for him yet.¡±


    Sena, however, remained quiet, his brow furrowed in thought. ¡°Let¡¯s keep an eye on him,¡± he said finally. ¡°Gifted or not, information like that could be useful. But trust? That¡¯ll take time.¡±


    Isabella nodded, her snake flicking its tongue out again. ¡°Agreed. Let¡¯s see what he does next.¡±

 Chapter 62: Fate From a Boot

    Chapter 62: Fate From a Boot


    Time passed within the Stone Tower and the five members of Room Eighty¡ªAbel, Sena, Isabella, Nando, and Ronald¡ªmoved in unison down the spiraling stone staircase of the Stone Tower. The walls around them hummed faintly with the presence of magical wards, their arcane energy hanging heavy in the air. Each step echoed through the tower, matching the tense silence of the recruits who passed them by, casting curious glances but saying nothing. Ronald walked slightly behind the others, feeling the weight of his recent return to the group. He had been accepted back, but proving his loyalty still lay ahead, and he could feel the unspoken pressure.


    As they descended, Abel could sense the mix of nervous energy in the air, both from his friends and the recruits they passed. His heightened senses made everything sharper¡ªthe clatter of boots on stone, the murmur of hushed conversations, even the faint whispers of the wind outside seemed amplified. Sena walked at his side, his massive form gaining some attention, while Isabella¡¯s quiet footsteps were almost inaudible. Nando, as unpredictable as ever, whistled softly to himself, his fingers tapping absently against the folds of his robe. Ronald kept his head down, glancing occasionally at the others, his thoughts swirling.


    The tension in the air was undeniable as they finally reached the bottom floor. The grand hall was filled with recruits, both gifted and non-gifted alike. The air felt thick with anticipation. Abel¡¯s eyes quickly swept across the room, noticing the wide range of expressions, some recruits stood confidently, while others fidgeted with visible anxiety.


    At the far end of the room, in front of the massive stone gate, stood the Overseer. His tall, looming figure was shrouded in a blood-red robe, the hood pulled low to conceal his face entirely. The dim light from the torches flickered against the dark fabric, casting him in an eerie glow. In one hand, he held an ancient, worn leather boot¡ªits surface cracked and aged, exuding an aura of mystery. The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the recruits waited in silence for the Overseer to speak.


    Sena leaned slightly toward Abel, his voice a low rumble. "I don¡¯t like the feel of this. Something¡¯s off."


    Abel nodded subtly, his eyes fixed on the Overseer. "Yeah, there¡¯s a strange energy today... something more than just the usual nerves."


    Isabella shifted uneasily beside them, her fingers brushing against the sleeve of her robe where her familiar rested, coiled and silent. Nando shot a quick grin at the group. "Whatever it is, it''ll be interesting. Always is."


    Ronald, though quiet, couldn¡¯t shake the gnawing sense of dread that had settled in his stomach. He had worked so hard to get back in with the group, but the looming threat of the unknown expedition weighed on him. This wasn¡¯t just about gaining trust anymore¡ªit was about survival.


    The Overseer finally raised his head, his voice booming through the hall with an unnatural resonance. ¡°Recruits of the Stone Tower, the day of your expedition is upon you.¡±


    His voice, deep and hollow, seemed to reverberate in the very walls. Abel felt a chill run down his spine as the Overseer continued, his tone calm but heavy with warning. "This expedition will be unlike anything you¡¯ve faced so far. You will be tested, and the dangers that lie beyond these walls are not to be taken lightly. You¡¯ve had time to prepare, but understand this¡ªyour success, your very survival, will depend on your strength, your knowledge, and your will."


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    The room was silent, each recruit absorbing the weight of his words. No one dared move or speak.


    The Overseer held up the boot, its presence commanding the attention of everyone in the hall. "This year," he continued, "we are trying something new. You will not choose your expeditions. Instead, fate will choose for you."


    Confusion rippled through the crowd. Abel¡¯s brow furrowed as he exchanged glances with his companions. Sena crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. ¡°What does he mean by that?¡± Nando whispered, the edge of a grin still lingering on his face despite the tension.


    The Overseer tapped the boot lightly, and as if responding to some ancient magic, the boot began to hum with a strange, melodic tune. From within the boot, colored slips of paper suddenly shot into the air, swirling above the recruits like a cloud of restless birds. The slips hovered for a moment, casting an eerie, glowing light across the room.


    "Each color represents a different expedition," the Overseer explained, his voice cutting through the murmur of unease. "Once a slip lands before you, it will reveal your task. Head to the task office to receive the full details of your expedition."


    The slips floated gracefully through the air, each glowing faintly with a color¡ªred, green, blue, yellow, orange. Abel watched with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as the first few slips landed before some recruits. He heard frustrated whispers and murmurs of protest from a few who were clearly unhappy with their random assignments. Still, no one dared raise their voice too loudly.


    Abel¡¯s heart raced as two slips drifted toward him and Ronald. A blue slip settled in front of both of them, glowing faintly against the stone floor. Sena and Isabella received green slips, while Nando¡¯s landed with a sharp flicker of red. The five exchanged glances, realization dawning that they would not all be together for this expedition.


    Abel caught Sena¡¯s eye. The hulking figure gave a slight nod, his expression serious but calm. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re splitting up,¡± Sena muttered, his voice low.


    Isabella ran her fingers across the green slip, her expression unreadable as she glanced at Abel and then Sena. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± she said softly, though there was a tension in her voice. ¡°We¡¯ve prepared for this.¡±


    Nando twirled his red slip between his fingers, a flicker of excitement crossing his face. "Guess I''m flying solo this time," he quipped, though the dark undertones of his transformation showed in the gleam of his eyes. The black veins beneath his skin seemed to pulse as if in response to the magic in the room.


    Ronald remained quiet, staring down at the blue slip in his hand. This was his chance to prove himself, but the weight of the unknown pressed heavily on him. He glanced at Abel, who gave him a reassuring nod.


    The Overseer¡¯s voice rang out once more, pulling their attention back to the front of the room. ¡°Do not underestimate the challenges ahead. You may find allies where you least expect them, and dangers in places you thought safe. Learn from this experience, and grow stronger. Only the worthy will survive.¡±


    With a sudden, almost blinding flash of light, the boot disappeared, leaving a lingering sense of unease in its wake. The Overseer¡¯s hooded gaze swept across the recruits, his presence both intimidating and inscrutable.


    ¡°Proceed to the task office,¡± he commanded. Without another word, the recruits began to move, the tension in the room palpable. Abel, Sena, Nando, Isabella, and Ronald all exchanged final glances before stepping into the crowd, each lost in their own thoughts.


    As they made their way to the task office, Abel couldn¡¯t shake the ominous feeling that lingered in the air. This expedition would be unlike anything they had faced before.

 Chapter 63: Expeditions

    Chapter 63: Expeditions


    The atmosphere was thick with tension as the five members of Room Eighty¡ªAbel, Ronald, Nando, Sena, and Isabella¡ªgathered on the crowded first floor of the Stone Tower. The air buzzed with murmurs of confusion, displeasure, and outright frustration. Abel glanced down at the colored slip in his hand, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling within him. He and Ronald had received a mission to explore ruins, while the others had been assigned equally daunting tasks. The Tower¡¯s method of task allocation had stirred unrest among the recruits, both gifted and non-gifted alike.


    As they made their way to the task office, they passed clusters of recruits, their complaints barely concealed behind sneers and whispers. Abel overheard a group of gifted recruits nearby, their voices dripping with disdain.


    "I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re being paired with the non-gifted for such a dangerous expedition. They¡¯ll slow us down," one of them said, rolling their eyes dramatically.


    Tina, a gifted recruit who had once sided with Ronald, crossed her arms in irritation. "It¡¯s ridiculous. As if we don¡¯t have enough to worry about. Babysitting the non-gifted on a mission like this is a waste of our talents."


    Ronald¡¯s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with irritation, but he kept his focus forward. Abel, too, remained quiet, but the sting of their words hung in the air. Even now, with the Tower emphasizing collaboration, the divide between the gifted and non-gifted felt as vast as ever. Abel glanced at Ronald, who walked beside him with a stiff determination, though Abel could tell the weight of the upcoming mission was pressing down on him.


    Nando, however, was less composed. His usual unpredictable demeanor had darkened into something more brooding, and his frustration was palpable. "Why am I always stuck with the worst jobs?" he muttered, his voice low. ¡°I swear, this better be the weakest terror in the world¡­¡±


    Isabella glanced at him, offering a small, thoughtful nod but said nothing. She had learned to expect Nando¡¯s mood swings, especially in stressful situations. Sena, beside her, seemed calm but focused, the primal energy inside him simmering just beneath the surface. He was eager to get the details of his task, ready for whatever challenge lay ahead.


    The line for the task office stretched through the hall as recruits filed in and out, each with expressions ranging from fear to outright anger. Some were clearly unhappy with their assignments, but there was little they could do. The Tower¡¯s decisions were final, and complaining wouldn¡¯t change their fate.


    Finally, it was their turn to enter the office. The room was dimly lit, the shadows casting an eerie atmosphere over the ancient stone walls. Behind the heavy desk sat Glandel, the instructor clad in his familiar blue robe. His hood was pulled low, obscuring most of his face, but the harsh lines of his jaw and the faint glow of his eyes beneath the hood gave away his stern, authoritative presence. He glanced up as the group entered, his gaze settling on them with cold indifference.


    "Slips," he said flatly, his voice deep and commanding.


    Abel and Ronald handed over their blue slips first. Glandel unrolled a thick parchment in front of him, his fingers tapping lightly as his eyes scanned over the details.


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    "You two are assigned to explore the ruins of the Malancia Nomads," Glandel began, his tone matter-of-fact. "The Malancia Nomads were a group that traveled across the continent for centuries guided by their own astrology, trading rare goods and artifacts. They would often set up camp for years before moving on, but one of their final camps in the south became permanent¡ªthough it was never intended to be. The Tower has recently located what¡¯s believed to be their last settlement, overgrown with thorns and surrounded by strange abnormalities."


    He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "Your mission is to scout the area, explore the ruins, and gather any information of value. This mission will be long¡ªfour to six months¡ªand will be led by Gravedigger."


    Ronald''s stomach dropped slightly at the mention of Gravedigger, an Apostle known for his no-nonsense attitude and the sheer intensity of his tasks. Abel''s expression remained neutral, but a flicker of anxiety crossed his eyes. They both knew this would be no simple mission.


    Glandel shifted his gaze to Nando, who stepped forward reluctantly, red slip in hand. He tossed it onto the desk, his scowl deepening. "What¡¯s my task?"


    The instructor opened the parchment slowly, his expression hardening as he read the contents. "You¡¯ve been assigned to track and contain a terror that has been moving closer to a human village under Tower jurisdiction." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto Nando. "The terror is a gargoyle¡ªa vicious creature that feeds on fear and can easily turn an entire village into stone. It has been weakened after being dormant for centuries, with a fraction of its power remaining"


    Nando¡¯s scowl faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of disbelief. "A terror? A gargoyle? Great," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. The weight of the mission was sinking in fast, and it was clear that this was more than he had bargained for.


    Glandel ignored Nando¡¯s outburst, turning his attention to Sena and Isabella. "You two have been assigned to secure an ancient mine in the western region," he explained, his voice as cold and steady as ever. "This mine has been deemed strategically important by the Tower due to its rare ores. However, there have been reports of creatures lurking within the mine. Your task is to clear the area and secure it for future extraction."


    Sena nodded, his expression focused and calm, while Isabella absorbed the details with a thoughtful look. The mission didn¡¯t sound easy, but both seemed ready to tackle it head-on.


    With the tasks assigned, Glandel rolled up the scrolls and handed them back to the recruits. "You leave at dawn tomorrow," he said with finality. "Make your last-minute preparations today. Gather your supplies, and be ready. The Tower does not tolerate failure."


    As they turned to leave, the weight of their missions hung heavily in the air. The silence between them was tense as they processed the gravity of what lay ahead.


    Once outside, Nando broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "A gargoyle... a damn terror. Why do I always get stuck with the worst jobs?" His voice was laced with frustration, but there was a hint of resignation as well.


    Sena smirked slightly but didn¡¯t comment, already focused on what awaited him and Isabella in the ancient mine. The thought of clearing out unknown creatures excited a part of him, the primal urge for battle flickering in his eyes.


    Abel exchanged a glance with Ronald, both of them still coming to terms with the fact that they would be exploring ancient ruins for six long months. The Malancia Nomads were a mystery, and the thought of the strange thorns and abnormalities surrounding their camp sent a shiver down Abel''s spine.


    "We should get ready," Abel said finally, breaking the tension. "We don¡¯t have much time."


    The others nodded in agreement, their minds already turning toward the tasks ahead. Tomorrow, their paths would split¡ªeach group facing its own unique dangers and challenges.


    Tomorrow, they would set out into the unknown, ready to prove themselves once more.

 Chapter 64: Sea of Clouds

    Chapter 64: Sea of Clouds


    The morning air was crisp as Abel tightened the straps of his tall, overstuffed bag. The pack rested on his shoulders with surprising ease, the weight barely registering¡ªa side effect of his transformation, no doubt. Though not as physically powerful as Sena, Abel had noticed subtle changes in his strength over the past weeks. His movements felt lighter, his steps quicker. Even the adrenaline coursing through him seemed to bring something new¡ªhis fingertips occasionally glowing with a faint, starry light whenever he tapped into his stellar power. It had become something of a curious phenomenon for him.


    As he stepped out of his room, adjusting the straps of his bag, he saw Ronald approaching from down the hall. Ronald, too, was ready, his own bag slung over his shoulder, though not nearly as stuffed.


    "You ready?" Ronald asked, giving Abel a quick nod of acknowledgment.


    "Yeah," Abel replied, the slight tremor of anticipation making his heart race. He hadn¡¯t been on such an extensive journey since his arrival at the Tower, and the idea of venturing into unknown ruins filled him with excitement¡ªand no small amount of nervousness.


    They descended the tower¡¯s spiraling stairs together, the distant hum of activity growing louder with each step. When they finally reached the ground floor and stepped outside, the sight before them was something to behold. Dozens of recruits were already gathering in clusters, their hushed conversations blending into a low murmur. The mood was tense but charged with energy.


    "Looks like everyone¡¯s getting ready to leave," Ronald observed, his eyes scanning the crowd of recruits.


    Abel nodded, noting the different groups forming outside the tower, each gathering before the apostles who would lead their respective expeditions. Dark, flowing black robes of the apostles stood out against the recruits¡¯ simpler attire, their presence commanding attention even from a distance. There was a clear sense of hierarchy here¡ªthe apostles were at the top, and the recruits, both gifted and non-gifted alike, were preparing to follow their lead.


    As they weaved through the crowd, Abel spotted the familiar faces of his companions from Room Eighty. Sena stood tall, his imposing frame unmistakable as he prepared for his mission. Isabella was nearby, her green Katar strapped to her side, her familiar, the snake, coiled loosely around her wrist. Nando was his usual bipolar self, alternating between a scowl and an amused grin, clearly brooding over his assigned task. Abel caught Sena¡¯s eye, and they exchanged a nod¡ªsilent understanding between old comrades.


    "They¡¯ve got their own mission with another apostle," Ronald muttered, glancing at the group. "We¡¯ll be heading out soon too."


    Abel and Ronald continued walking until they reached Gravedigger, their assigned apostle leader. Gravedigger, with his dark, brooding presence, stood tall and quiet, his eyes scanning the recruits as they gathered before him. Abel noticed a few other familiar faces among their group: Gerald, a non-gifted he had sparred with once, and Tina, standing next to another gifted recruit, Jane, who Ronald seemed to recognize.


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    As they waited, Abel could feel the eyes of several recruits on him. Some nodded in acknowledgment, a silent respect growing for the "Stargazer"¡ªthe nickname Abel had earned. His strange abilities had not gone unnoticed, and the recruits'' recognition filled him with a quiet sense of pride, though he remained humble. Gravedigger¡¯s gaze lingered on Abel for a moment longer than on the others, a subtle nod of approval passed between them. Perhaps Gravedigger still remembered how Abel had supported him during his breakthrough. Abel had earned his respect, and that was no small feat.


    Gravedigger finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "This journey will take hours. We¡¯ll head to our transportation vessel first. Stick together, and stay alert."


    Without further delay, Gravedigger began leading them into the Stone Forest, the massive trees looming above them as they made their way through the familiar yet eerie woods. The other groups of recruits were heading in different directions, each following their respective apostle. The forest, usually quiet and foreboding, seemed alive with the buzz of activity. The air felt charged, and Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of excitement as they ventured deeper.


    After what felt like thirty minutes of steady walking, they arrived at an open clearing in the forest. There, waiting for them, was a creature Abel had never seen before¡ªan enormous, floating manta ray. The sight of it took his breath away. Its massive wings were like sails, gently rippling as if caught in an unseen breeze. A large, intricately crafted wooden carriage rested on its back, complete with a roof and padded seats. The creature emanated a soft, magical glow, its body hovering effortlessly above the ground.


    Abel¡¯s eyes widened in awe. "Is this...?"


    Gravedigger chuckled softly, breaking his usually stern demeanor. "Surprised? I was too the first time I saw this thing. One of the Tower Lord¡¯s companions. It¡¯ll take us to our destination."


    The recruits stared in wonder, some exchanging excited whispers. Even Ronald, who rarely showed much emotion, was visibly impressed. Abel couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the manta ray as they climbed aboard. The interior of the carriage was cozy, with cushioned benches and enough room for all of them to sit comfortably. It reminded Abel of a luxurious traveling cart, though far more magical.


    Once everyone was seated, the manta ray slowly began to rise. The sensation of lifting off the ground was exhilarating. Abel felt his stomach drop slightly as they ascended, the ground beneath them shrinking as the creature carried them into the sky. The forest, once towering and intimidating, became a sea of green below them. The wind rushed past, cool and refreshing, as they soared higher and higher, breaking through the thick canopy and into the open air.


    As they climbed above the clouds, the sight was nothing short of breathtaking. A vast expanse of white, fluffy clouds stretched out in every direction, like a sea gently rolling beneath them. The sunlight above the clouds cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the scene in a soft, ethereal light.


    "I¡¯ve never seen anything like this," Abel whispered, his voice filled with wonder.


    "Neither have I," Ronald admitted, his tone replaced with genuine awe. "This is... incredible."


    Around them, the other recruits were equally mesmerized. Even the gifted recruits, often so composed and arrogant, couldn¡¯t hide their amazement at the spectacle unfolding around them. For a brief moment, all the tension and rivalry seemed to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of awe and unity.


    Gravedigger, sitting near the front, allowed them a moment to take it all in before speaking again. "Enjoy the view while you can," he said with a slight smile. "Once we reach the ruins, things won¡¯t be this peaceful."


    The words hung in the air, a reminder of the danger that awaited them. But for now, as they sailed above the clouds, Abel let himself savor the moment¡ªthe calm before the storm. The expedition had begun.

 Chapter 65: The Omen of the Ruins

    Chapter 65: The Omen of the Ruins


    As the manta ray soared through the sky, the tension among the recruits became evident. The golden hues of the setting sun soon gave way to the bruised grays of twilight, and Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest. The others shifted uneasily, all aware that the mysteries of the ruins awaited them, but there was still an uncertainty among them. Gravedigger¡¯s voice cut through the silence, stern but measured.


    ¡°Before we reach the ruins,¡± he began, his deep voice resonating through the cool night air, ¡°we need to understand each other¡¯s strengths. If we don¡¯t, none of us are making it out alive. This is no ordinary mission. Now, what are your abilities? I¡¯ll go first. I control bones,¡± he continued, motioning to the massive femur strapped to his back. ¡°I can manipulate them, shape them, even animate them. You¡¯ll see it in action soon enough.¡±


    He turned to Abel, his eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°You, Stargazer, what can you do?¡±


    Abel hesitated for a moment, still uncertain about how much to reveal. He wasn¡¯t comfortable exposing the full extent of his connection to the stars, not yet. ¡°I¡¯m connected to the stars,¡± he began, his voice measured. ¡°I can sense their energy, and it helps me navigate¡­ and sometimes, guide me. It¡¯s not fully developed yet, but I¡¯m working on it.¡±


    Gravedigger nodded. ¡°That will be useful. Next.¡±


    Ronald stepped forward, looking at the group before speaking. ¡°I¡¯ve got a water affinity. I can manipulate water¡ªcreate barriers, and heal minor cuts. I can also sense moisture in the air, which might come in handy when we¡¯re in the ruins.¡± His voice was calm but serious, reflecting the weight of the mission.


    Tina, arms crossed, rolled her eyes slightly but spoke up next. ¡°Earth affinity,¡± she said, her tone sharp. ¡°I can manipulate stone and soil. I¡¯ve trained for a while to build barriers, and manipulate terrain. I¡¯m not a liability if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about.¡± Her eyes flicked toward Abel as if daring him to question her abilities.


    Jane, standing beside Tina, nodded politely before speaking. ¡°Wind affinity,¡± she said softly. ¡°I can control air currents, create gusts, and even use the wind to fly short distances. I¡¯ll help with mobility if we need it.¡±


    Gravedigger listened, his eyes sharp and attentive. He turned to Gerald, a non-gifted who shifted awkwardly before speaking. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve been experimenting,¡± he began. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to grow a magical fungus inside me. It gives me a kind of regenerative ability and a connection to certain Fungi. It¡¯s¡­ weird, but I¡¯m still figuring out how to use it offensively.¡±


    Abu, the sharp-eyed non-gifted recruit, cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯ve got the eye of a Dirt Eagle implanted. I can see far distances, and I¡¯ve been learning to communicate with birds. It¡¯s still a work in progress, but it helps with scouting.¡± He looked around for a bit which allowed everyone to see that one of his eyes glowed in a faint brown color.


    Lastly, Luke stepped forward, scratching the back of his neck nervously. ¡°Uh, I consumed a Marsh Parasite. My body can produce dangerous fumes that disorient others, and I can make a cloud of smoke around myself¡ªgood for stealth and escaping. It¡¯s¡­ not the most glamorous power, but it¡¯s gotten me out of a few tight spots.¡±


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    Gravedigger nodded, his expression unreadable as he processed the information. ¡°Good. We have a range of abilities here. We¡¯ll need every one of them if we¡¯re going to survive what¡¯s ahead. This expedition isn¡¯t just about strength¡ªit¡¯s about teamwork. Learn to rely on each other, or we won¡¯t make it out alive.¡±


    Before the group could fully digest Gravedigger¡¯s words, the serene night was abruptly interrupted. A thick, supernatural black fog began creeping in from the horizon, rolling over the landscape at an unnatural speed. The stars above disappeared, swallowed by the mist, and the manta ray beneath them began to tremble, its once graceful movements becoming erratic and panicked.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Jane asked, her voice barely audible over the strange hum that filled the air.


    The manta ray let out a deep, unsettling sound¡ªa resonant hum that vibrated through the air, shaking the entire group. Abel gripped the side of the wooden carriage, his heart racing as the fog twisted around them, creating eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. The smog played tricks on their senses, the shadows taking on grotesque, nightmarish shapes before dissolving into nothing.


    ¡°We¡¯re losing altitude!¡± Ronald¡¯s voice was tight with urgency as the manta ray¡¯s wings faltered.


    Gravedigger acted quickly. ¡°Hold on! I¡¯ll stabilize it.¡± He grabbed the femur from his back and raised it high into the air, summoning his bone magic. With a swift motion, he created a series of skeletal tendrils that wrapped around the manta ray¡¯s body, anchoring it in place and preventing it from shaking to the point of breaking the carriage.


    The creature¡¯s shuddering slowed, but the fog continued to distort their senses. Shadows moved and flickered at the edge of their vision, the whispers growing louder¡ªvoices that seemed to come from nowhere. Abel could barely focus, the strange hallucinations disorienting him.


    ¡°Abel!¡± Gravedigger barked, his voice cutting through the confusion. ¡°We need you to guide us!¡±


    Abel closed his eyes, shutting out the eerie whispers and the moving shadows. He focused on the faint pull of the stars that he could no longer see. They were still there, beyond the fog, their celestial energy calling to him. Slowly, he let that energy wash over him, guiding his senses. His eyes glowed with a faint blue light, cutting through the fog.


    ¡°There,¡± Abel whispered, his voice steady. ¡°The clearing is that way.¡±


    Gravedigger didn¡¯t question him. He directed the manta ray toward the direction Abel had indicated, using his bone constructs to keep the creature stable as it glided through the mist. Gradually, the hallucinations faded, and the oppressive fog began to thin.


    They escaped the fog, and the manta ray seemed to calm as Gravedigger retracted his bone structure, turning it back into the femur and placing it on his back.


    As the ruins came into view, Tina shot Abel a glance, her expression conflicted. She hated relying on him, hated that she had to depend on a non-gifted recruit for their survival. But she couldn¡¯t deny the truth¡ªwithout Abel, they would have been lost in the fog.


    The ruins loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, their ancient stone walls covered in thick, twisted vines that pulsed with a strange energy. The fog clung to the ruins, casting long, eerie shadows across the landscape.


    ¡°We¡¯ve made it,¡± Gravedigger said, his voice heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. ¡°But this is only the beginning.¡±


    As the manta ray touched down near the base of the ruins, the group disembarked, each recruit silently preparing for the trials that awaited them. Abel¡¯s connection to the stars had saved them, but the tension between the gifted and non-gifted was far from resolved. And deep down, Abel knew that this was just the first of many challenges they would face in the ruins of the Malancia Nomads.

 Chapter 66: The Devouring Maze

    Chapter 66: The Devouring Maze


    The journey to the overgrown village felt like stepping into a forgotten corner of the world. As the manta ray descended, the group disembarked into a scene of eerie stillness. Half of the village lay consumed by an unnatural web of gray-green vines, twisting and creeping over the remnants of stone buildings and once-bustling streets. The air carried a damp, heavy scent, like the earth after a long rain, but tinged with something sour¡ªan acidic undertone that made the hair on Abel¡¯s arms stand on end. The quiet was oppressive, the only sound the soft creak of the vines shifting as though they were alive, twisting in place, waiting.


    Gravedigger, ever vigilant, scanned the area. His gaze was focused on the vines, thick as a man¡¯s arm, pulsing faintly as if drawing life from the very ruins they consumed. ¡°These vines are no accident,¡± he muttered, his tone grim. ¡°They¡¯re coming from the heart of the ruins. That¡¯s where we need to go.¡±


    Abu, standing a few paces behind, narrowed his eyes. His ability to communicate with birds had always been useful, but even the birds had gone silent in this place and were hard to find. He raised his arm, and from the misty treetops, a small bird descended, perching on his wrist. Its keen eyes darted in the direction of the ruins. ¡°The vines thicken further in. They¡¯re strangling everything,¡± Abu reported softly, his eyes distant as he communed with his companion.


    Abel¡¯s gaze wandered across the village. The buildings, though crumbling, still bore the signs of a long-forgotten civilization¡ªthe Malancia Nomads. Stone structures, once carved with intricate patterns, were now marred by the vines¡¯ relentless grip. Where there should have been signs of life, there was only decay, an unsettling aura hanging over the place like a heavy mist. It felt like they were walking through the final breaths of a dying world, and Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the village was watching them, waiting for something.


    Gravedigger led the group toward a large cathedral that seemed untouched by the vine¡¯s corruption. The towering spires of the building stood defiantly against the encroaching death that surrounded it, casting long shadows across the stone square below. ¡°We¡¯ll make camp here,¡± he said, his voice cutting through the stillness.


    The cathedral itself was imposing, its once-glorious architecture now a shell of what it had been. Massive wooden doors, weathered and creaking, opened into a vast, barren interior. Dust clung to every surface, and long-forgotten banners hung limply from the ceiling, their colors faded beyond recognition. The air was dry inside, carrying a scent of rot and old stone. Shafts of dim light filtered through the cracked stained-glass windows, illuminating patches of the ground, where the dust swirled as the group moved.


    ¡°This will be our base for the expedition,¡± Gravedigger continued, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. Each recruit spread out, laying down their gear and assessing the areas they could use for rest. The recruits exchanged uneasy glances. There was no sign of life here¡ªjust the long-forgotten shadows of those who had come before. Abel¡¯s eyes wandered to the large stone altar at the far end of the room, a cold chill running down his spine.


    That night, sleep came slowly, the weight of the village pressing down on them, the quiet too thick, too strange. Abel lay awake, listening to the subtle creak of the cathedral settling around him, but beyond that, there was nothing. Just silence.


    When morning broke, the group gathered quickly, eager to press on. The ruined part of the village, half-devoured by the vines, loomed ahead. As they ventured deeper into the consumed streets, the landscape became more distorted. Vines wrapped around collapsed buildings like grotesque snakes, curling into windows and through doorways, choking the life from the village. The ground felt spongy beneath their boots, as though the earth itself had become corrupted by the vines¡¯ slow, consuming hunger.


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    Abu¡¯s bird returned, circling overhead and then landing on his arm. ¡°The concentration of vines is strongest to the east,¡± he said, nodding toward where the bird had indicated. ¡°We¡¯ll need to head that way.¡±


    They followed Abu¡¯s guidance, though unease settled over the group as the village''s eerie atmosphere intensified. The vines pulsed with a faint, unnatural light, casting an eerie glow on the walls they consumed. Their movements seemed to shift subtly when no one was watching, as though they were alive¡ªwaiting to strike.


    Abel could feel the pull of the ruins ahead, the quiet thrum of celestial energy that connected him to something far beyond the mundane. But even that sensation was tempered by the oppressive presence of the vines, as if they were fighting against the very stars themselves. ¡°These vines¡­ They¡¯re not just consuming the village,¡± Abel murmured. ¡°They¡¯re alive.¡±


    As the group was pulled into the heart of the devoured village, they found themselves standing together, surrounded by high walls of vines that twisted with a life of their own. Above them, strange, thick leaves floated, completely obscuring Abel¡¯s view of the stars. The maze was alive, and without the guidance of the stars, Abel felt lost.


    The leaves floating above the maze were unnaturally suspended in the air, not connected to any branches or trees, as if they existed solely to block the view of the stars and the world beyond. These magical leaves were dark and thick, their surfaces shimmering faintly with an eerie glow, like a veil between them and the outside. They pulsed with a low hum of energy, shifting slightly as though they were alive, weaving together to form a perfect cover, cutting off any chance of navigation by sight.


    "We need to clear the sky," Abel muttered, his frustration building. Jane, understanding, summoned a powerful gust of wind that tore through the thick canopy of leaves. The wind howled, swirling upwards, pushing the leaves apart to reveal the night sky. Stars twinkled down on them, bright and clear, filling Abel with a sense of relief. The stars'' patterns offered him guidance, illuminating the way forward. As he traced their path, he couldn''t help but wonder if this was how the ancient nomads once roamed the land¡ªguided by the stars, lost in the wilderness of this strange world.


    Abel¡¯s head throbbed slightly, a dull headache creeping in from the strain of constantly using his celestial powers. But they had no choice; they needed to push forward. With Abel leading the way, they navigated the maze for several minutes, twisting through dark corners and vine-covered paths.


    They soon reached a sudden drop-off. Before them lay a massive hole in the ground, its depths obscured by shadows. Across the gap, a set of ancient stairs descended into the earth, beckoning them into the heart of the ruins below. But there was no easy way across, and before they could even discuss a plan, the vine-covered walls around them began to tremble and close in.


    ¡°Tina!¡± Gravedigger shouted.


    Without hesitation, Tina slammed her hands against the ground, summoning pillars of earth to reinforce the collapsing walls. Her power flowed through the earth like a lifeline, holding the walls back as they shuddered under pressure. Gerald stepped forward, his fungal affinity flaring to life as he sent thick mats of fungi growing over the earthen supports, bolstering Tina¡¯s structure with the spongy resilience of his spores.


    "We can''t hold it forever!" Tina warned, her brow furrowed in concentration.


    Gravedigger, sensing the urgency, lifted his femur staff into the air. With a focused wave, he manipulated the bones buried deep within the earth. They twisted and extended, forming a narrow but sturdy bridge across the chasm.


    "Run!" Gravedigger bellowed, and one by one, they sprinted across the bridge, the walls groaning behind them. Just as the last of them crossed, the walls collapsed inward, crushing the earthen pillars Tina had raised.


    Panting, the group gathered at the far side of the chasm, their eyes fixed on the stairs leading downward. They had made it, but the dangers were far from over. With the labyrinth behind them, they could now descend deeper into the ruins, where untold mysteries¡ªand dangers¡ªawaited.

 Chapter 67: Whispering Stones

    Chapter 67: Whispering Stones


    As Abel and the group ventured deeper into the ruins, the air became thick and oppressive, the walls lined with decaying stone and the faint glow of Gerald¡¯s mushroom casting flickering light over the dark surroundings. The sound of their footsteps echoed eerily, bouncing off the walls and returning as unsettling whispers. Abel didn¡¯t need the mushroom¡¯s light; his vision in the dark, a gift from his boon, sharpened his awareness, making him acutely aware of the unnatural presence around them. The deeper they went, the more the silence seemed alive, pressing down on them like a weight, and before long, the oppressive quiet gave way to something far worse.


    The voices began as a faint murmur, barely perceptible at first, but soon they swelled into a cacophony of distorted whispers rising from the stone itself. Abel''s senses sharpened as the whispers grew more intense, filling the air with a sinister energy. The chamber seemed to twist with malevolence, every stone and vine bearing a memory of ancient suffering. The voices grew louder, warping their words into cruel, mocking echoes.


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Jane¡¯s voice trembled, breaking the eerie silence. She glanced around, her usual calm rattled by the unfamiliar, haunting sound.


    Her words were mimicked, distorted into a taunt: ¡°Did you hear that?¡± The voices laughed, cruel and mocking. Tina stiffened, the tension in her shoulders growing as the air seemed to press heavier upon them. A warped echo of her own voice followed soon after, dripping with derision: "You think you¡¯re strong? You¡¯re nothing.¡±


    Tina¡¯s patience snapped first. ¡°Is this some kind of joke, Abel?¡± she spat, her anger flaring as she turned to him, the tension getting the best of her. ¡°You think this is funny? Are you mocking us too?¡±


    Abel blinked in shock, taken aback. ¡°No, Tina, I¡ª¡±


    Jane¡¯s voice joined in, bitter and sharp. ¡°Why are we relying on them, anyway? We could handle this ourselves.¡±


    The whispers fed off their anger, twisting their frustrations and insecurities into accusations. The group, once unified in purpose, seemed to fray at the edges, their emotions heightened by the dark energies coursing through the chamber.


    Gravedigger, standing slightly apart from the others, narrowed his eyes. He could feel it, the presence lingering in the air¡ªsomething older, something cursed. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the room, until it fell on the bones. They were embedded in the very walls of the ruins, woven into the fabric of the stone itself. Ancient and cursed, the bones radiated a dark energy, pulsating with the agony of the lives trapped within them.


    "Enough," Gravedigger¡¯s voice boomed, cutting through the escalating tension like a blade. His voice was commanding, a force that stilled the rising conflict. "It¡¯s not us," he growled. "It¡¯s the ruins. More specifically..." He trailed off, stepping toward the walls. ¡°These bones."


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    As if in response to his words, the whispers rose again, screaming in a violent crescendo, but Gravedigger was unmoved. He placed his hand on the cold stone, feeling the ancient suffering that was etched into the bones. The bones, partially protruding from the wall, vibrated under his touch, rattling as if they were trying to break free from the curse that bound them.


    His massive femur bone strapped to his back began to glow faintly, a red light pulsing from within it. The room was bathed in an eerie crimson glow, casting shadows that flickered and danced along the walls, like specters born from the bones¡¯ suffering. Gravedigger¡¯s bone seemed to draw in the cursed energy from the room, feeding off the ancient pain as the whispers screamed in protest.


    "The bones are the source of the madness," Gravedigger said, his voice steady as the glow from his weapon intensified. "Prisoners left here to rot, their souls and bones cursed. This place is a relic of their suffering, an anomaly born from centuries of pain and hatred."


    With a sudden, deliberate motion, Gravedigger slammed his glowing femur into the stone. The entire chamber shuddered as a ripple of energy pulsed through the walls. The cursed energy surged, flowing into the femur like blood being drawn from a wound. The whispers grew louder, screaming in anguish as the bones relinquished their hold on the room.


    The glow of the femur grew brighter, turning from red to a brilliant, blinding crimson. An insignia¡ªan ancient rune¡ªetched itself into the bone, glowing with a power that pulsed in time with the ancient curse. Gravedigger knelt, his breath heavy as he absorbed the energy into his weapon.


    For a moment, the tension in the air hung thick around them. The energy surged, wild and untamed, before finally settling into a quiet hum. The whispers, once so loud and insistent, fell silent.


    Abel stepped forward cautiously, still shaken from the earlier confrontation. ¡°Gravedigger... what did you do?¡±


    Gravedigger¡¯s voice was heavy with weariness, his hand still gripping the femur tightly. ¡°I absorbed the curse," he said, his voice low. ¡°It¡¯s contained for now, but it won¡¯t be easy to keep it that way. There was something else, too¡ªtraces of a rune. I was lucky to come across this, It might take me time to absorb it and comprehend it, but this might be my most successful loot ever, but... we may have disturbed something that should¡¯ve stayed buried."


    "What¡¯s a rune?" Abel asked, curiosity and apprehension mixed in his tone.


    Gravedigger''s eyes narrowed. "You''ll find out in time."


    Ronald, sensing that the danger had passed, moved closer to Abel. ¡°We can¡¯t let this place turn us against each other. That curse¡ªit was feeding off our emotions, using our fears and anger to break us.¡±


    Abel nodded in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll need to stay united if we¡¯re going to survive this.¡±


    Tina stood off to the side, arms crossed, her expression conflicted. Though she said nothing, the realization that the non-gifted had saved them gnawed at her pride. She wouldn¡¯t admit it, but she knew that without them, they¡¯d be dead.


    Gravedigger rose slowly, the glowing red insignia on the femur still pulsing with power. ¡°We¡¯ve neutralized this chamber, but the deeper we go, the more dangerous this place will become. We¡¯ll rest for now, but stay alert. There¡¯s more darkness here than we¡¯ve seen.¡±


    The group, still rattled but resolute, pressed onward. Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the ruins had only just begun to reveal their true horrors.

 Chapter 68: Into The Depths

    Chapter 68: Into The Depths


    As the group made their way back to the cathedral, the air seemed heavier with each step. Their torches flickered against the old, decaying stone walls, and the dim light only heightened the tension hanging between them. When they reached the cathedral¡¯s main chamber, the silence was suffocating. The group, weary from their dangerous exploration, sat in a tight circle, their faces marked with fear and unease.


    Gravedigger was the first to speak. A grim seriousness that instantly captured everyone¡¯s attention. His voice, low and deliberate, filled the chamber. ¡°What we¡¯ve witnessed today,¡± he said slowly, ¡°is just the beginning. These ruins, this place¡ªit''s far more dangerous than we realized.


    The statement sent a shiver through the group. Abel, his nerves still on edge from the day¡¯s events, exchanged a glance with Tina and Ronald, whose faces mirrored his concern. The events of the day had rattled everyone¡ªthe strange whispers, the illusions that seemed to pull them apart. The deeper they ventured into the ruins, the more it became evident that they were dealing with forces far darker and more sinister than they¡¯d ever imagined.


    Tina clenched her fists, her earlier frustration with the group replaced by a tense silence. Ronald¡¯s usually calm demeanor had cracked, and even Jane, usually composed, wore an expression of fear and disbelief. They all looked to Gravedigger, hoping for clarity, for some form of guidance that would make sense of what they¡¯d just faced.


    ¡°The illusions, the whispers¡­ they were not just tricks of the mind,¡± Gravedigger continued, his eyes hardening. ¡°Something in these ruins is manipulating us, drawing on our fears. And it¡¯s only going to get worse.¡±


    As the words settled in, a chilling quiet fell over the cathedral once more. Each of them knew that the journey ahead was only going to get harder, and whatever awaited them deep within the ruins was a force far beyond their understanding at the moment.


    Jane, broke the silence. ¡°What are we really doing here? Why did the Tower send us?¡±


    Gravedigger hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "The Tower Master didn¡¯t give me all the details. Only that there are secrets buried within these ruins that we must uncover and, if necessary, eradicate. The Tower has reason to believe..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "That a false divine being¡ªa force that could corrupt our world¡ªis attempting to break through into our land. These ruins were once home to an intelligent, nomadic civilization, but they disappeared mysteriously. And the Tower believes this divine corruption is what caused it."


    The room fell into a heavy silence, each of them processing the implications. Abu shifted uncomfortably, his bird-like eyes scanning the room as if expecting danger to leap from the shadows at any moment. ¡°Divine corruption?¡± he murmured, his voice barely audible.


    Ronald leaned forward, his expression hard. ¡°If that¡¯s true, then this place is far more dangerous than we thought. Are we even equipped to handle something like this?¡±


    Gravedigger¡¯s eyes met his, steady but filled with caution. ¡°The Tower Master wouldn¡¯t send us here if he believed we were walking into certain death. But make no mistake¡ªthis will not be easy.¡±


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    Tina clenched her fists, frustration evident in her stance. "So, we¡¯re just supposed to trust that? Trust that we¡¯re not being sent to our deaths?"


    Gravedigger didn¡¯t answer right away, but after a long pause, he spoke, his voice quieter. ¡°We have to trust each other. If we let this place get into our heads, we¡¯re finished.¡±


    The recruits exchanged uneasy glances, but there was a grim understanding among them. They were in this together, whether they liked it or not.


    After some further discussion and planning, the group decided to rest for the night. As they settled into their makeshift quarters within the cathedral, sleep came reluctantly to most of them. The eerie atmosphere of the ruins weighed on their minds, and Abel found it hard to shake the feeling of being watched.


    ¡­


    The next morning, after a quick meal and final preparations, the group headed back toward the ruins. As they ventured deeper into the devoured village, the unsettling presence of the vines became more apparent. Gray-green tendrils twisted around what remained of the crumbling houses and skeletons of buildings, pulsing faintly with some kind of eerie energy. Entering the ruinss they began to follow towards the cause of the vines.


    ¡°This place feels alive,¡± Gerald muttered as he walked beside Abel and Ronald. He seemed disturbed by the creeping vines. Every now and then, one would reach out like a predator testing its prey.


    Abu, his eyes sharp with his implanted bird vision, scanned the area ahead. ¡°There¡¯s a concentration of magical energy up ahead,¡± he reported, his voice low. ¡°Looks like the vines are thicker around that area.¡±


    Abu nodded in agreement. ¡°I¡¯ll keep watch. The vines are moving strangely today.¡±


    The group moved cautiously, following Luke¡¯s guidance until they reached the entrance of a hidden underground tunnel, almost completely concealed by the thick vines. Abel could feel the air grow colder as they neared it, the magic in the atmosphere becoming almost oppressive.


    ¡°Stay close,¡± Gravedigger ordered as they descended into the tunnel. The walls were slick with moisture, and the faint glow of the vines cast eerie shadows that danced across the stone. The deeper they went, the more unsettling the atmosphere became.


    At the end of the tunnel, they stumbled upon a large sacrificial altar. Surrounding it were murals depicting scenes of the nomads offering themselves to a celestial being. The murals were ancient, the colors faded and cracked, but the story they told was clear¡ªsacrifices made to something far beyond human understanding.


    Abel¡¯s eyes lingered on the paintings, his breath catching in his throat. Every time he tried to focus on the being the nomads worshipped, his mind seemed to go blank. It was as though his brain refused to process the image, only able to retain the memory of the sacrifices themselves.


    ¡°What... is this?¡± Jane whispered, her voice trembling.


    Ronald shook his head, disturbed by the same phenomenon. ¡°I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t look at it. It¡¯s like my mind won¡¯t let me.¡±


    Gravedigger, his expression dark, stepped forward. ¡°It¡¯s starting to make sense. Whatever being they worshipped, it had the power to influence minds, to erase memories.¡±


    Abel shuddered, feeling a cold dread settle in his stomach. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the picture they were forming was far more terrifying than he had imagined.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a ruin,¡± Gravedigger said, his voice grim. ¡°It¡¯s a gateway to something far worse.¡±


    The group stood there in uneasy silence, the eerie murals watching them, waiting. They knew there was no turning back now.

 Chapter 69: The Twisted Bodies

    Chapter 69: The Twisted Bodies


    The tunnel''s air grew colder as the group ventured deeper into the ruins. Flickering torchlight revealed more intricate murals lining the stone walls. Abel''s eyes scanned the paintings, which began to tell a story of transformation. What had started as peaceful depictions of nomadic life¡ªtribes gathering around fires, traveling under the stars¡ªsoon warped into unsettling scenes. The figures in the murals shifted from serene to frenzied, their faces contorted in ecstatic worship of a large, unidentifiable being shrouded in a celestial aura. Abel¡¯s pulse quickened as he realized the full scope of the nomads'' descent into fanaticism.


    "They were worshiping something," Ronald muttered, his hand brushing over a depiction of a sacrificial altar. "Something powerful. And it drove them mad."


    Tina, standing just behind him, frowned. "What kind of god would do this?" she asked quietly, more to herself than anyone else.


    Gravedigger stepped closer to a cluster of ancient text carved into the stone beneath the murals. His eyes scanned the writings with growing unease. ¡°It looks like they performed a ritual to awaken this god,¡± he said grimly. ¡°Whatever it was... it consumed them."


    As they continued, Abu''s bird-like sight came into play. "Wait," he whispered, his voice tight. "Something¡¯s ahead, pulsing... like magic." He gestured toward the thicker vines that blocked their path, which now emitted an eerie green glow. Abel noticed the same thing.


    The group exchanged wary glances. Abu''s ability had been invaluable, guiding them deeper into the ruins, but now even he seemed shaken. Gerald took a step forward, brushing against the vines, only to recoil as one of them lashed out, cutting across his arm. His regenerative abilities kicked in immediately, the wound knitting itself back together, but the attack had rattled him. The vines were growing more aggressive.


    As they moved further in, Luke paused, glancing at the strange green mist hovering in the air. "Is that your smoke?" Ronald asked, his voice tense.


    Luke shook his head, his face pale. ¡°No... my smoke is darker, more controlled. This... this is something else.¡±


    The mist had a strange, pungent smell that made the group uneasy. Abel''s instincts screamed that they were venturing into dangerous territory. They followed Abel¡¯s and Abu¡¯s lead, their sharp eyes guiding them through the increasingly twisted maze of vines, until they found themselves standing before a massive chamber. The air was heavy with the stench of death.


    Inside, the sight that greeted them was horrific. Dozens of bodies¡ªmummified figures of the nomads¡ªlay scattered across the floor, vines protruding grotesquely from their mouths, eyes, and nostrils. Some corpses were curled into fetal positions, others clutched their knees as though trying to protect themselves. The sight was almost too much to bear, and the putrid odor in the air turned their stomachs.


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    ¡°We should move quickly,¡± Gravedigger warned, his voice steady. ¡°Don¡¯t disturb them.¡±


    They began to move quietly through the room, but the moment they stepped past the first row of bodies, the vines twitched violently. The corpses stirred. One by one, the twisted bodies began to rise, their dead eyes locking onto the group.


    "Move!" Gravedigger commanded, grabbing the massive femur from his back. As it morphed into a bone spear, he summoned two skeletal warriors to his side. They leaped into action, but the corpses were relentless, slow but impossibly strong.


    Abel dodged a decaying fist aimed at his head, the stars in his eyes flaring as he moved with newfound agility. He sidestepped the creature''s next swing and slashed its neck clean through with his dagger, decapitating it in one swift motion. The body collapsed to the floor, but there were still many more to face.


    Gravedigger fought furiously, his bone spear whirling with deadly precision. He had once been known for his mastery of a magical shovel, but now, as an apostle, his skill with the bone spear was unmatched. With a roar, he skewered one of the corpses, shattering its chest.


    Nearby, Jane used her wind affinity to push several of the corpses back toward Tina, who summoned sharp pillars of stone from the ground to impale them. They worked seamlessly together, dispatching several of the undead with a brutal efficiency.


    Ronald, holding his ground, summoned a torrent of water, blasting one of the creatures with enough force to slam it into a wall, its body crumbling on impact. He panted, beads of sweat forming on his brow, but he pressed on.


    The fight was grueling, and the creatures were relentless. Gerald, pulled out a small shield magical artifact the size of a plate and raised it, blocking a powerful swing that sent him sprawling against the stone wall. His regenerative abilities allowed him to recover quickly, but the creatures were too fast for him to fully regain his composure. His fungus-enhanced body could heal, but his slower speed made him vulnerable.


    Abu and Luke were fighting side by side, with Abu¡¯s enhanced vision giving him a slight advantage in anticipating the creatures'' moves. He worked with his short sword, slicing and dodging, but Luke¡¯s smoke was proving ineffective against the undead. Then, in a horrifying moment, one of the corpses grabbed Luke in a headlock. Abu, seeing his friend in danger, lunged to help, but it was too late. With a sickening crunch, the creature squeezed, crushing Luke¡¯s skull. His body went limp, his lifeless eyes staring ahead as his brains splattered across the stone floor.


    Abu¡¯s heart raced, his mind reeling with shock and horror. He barely had time to process what had happened, but the fight wasn¡¯t over. He choked back his nausea and slashed at the creature that had killed Luke, beheading it with a single stroke. His hands trembled, but there was no time to mourn. Another corpse charged at him, and he barely managed to deflect its attack.


    The fight continued, fierce and unforgiving, but eventually, the group emerged victorious. The last of the corpses fell, and the room fell into a tense silence. Gravedigger stood over the fallen, his bone spear dripping with black ichor.


    Abel, panting heavily, glanced at the spot where Luke had died, a grim sense of loss settling over him. Abu, still pale, wiped the blood from his sword, his face twisted in a mix of grief and anger.


    "We need to regroup," Gravedigger said, his voice steady but low. "We¡¯ll come back another day."


    With heavy hearts and a growing sense of foreboding, the group turned back, making their way to the cathedral for some much-needed rest. But the memory of what they had seen¡ªand lost¡ªstayed with them.

 Chapter 70: Fangs of Stone, Breath of Decay

    Chapter 70: Fangs of Stone, Breath of Decay


    Nando walked behind the group, his eyes scanning the darkening horizon. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and he could sense the unease in the other recruits. His veins pulsed beneath his skin, the black threads of the curse crawling across his arms, reminding him of the changes he had yet to fully master. Though his powers continued to evolve, they carried a weight he wasn¡¯t sure he could control¡ªnot yet.


    Their expedition had been led by two powerful apostles¡ªGreenthumb, who commanded nature with ease, manipulating plants like they were an extension of his body, and Salamander, a fearsome figure who channeled draconic power, his red scales shimmering faintly even under the faint light of dusk. Together, they were formidable, and yet the task at hand had put everyone on edge.


    Nando and his group had been tailing a gargoyle for days. A creature of stone, once feared and worshipped, now broken and decaying as pieces of its body littered the trail. They were nearing it, closer with each passing moment, but something about this mission bothered him. The gargoyle wasn¡¯t just a beast on the verge of death. It had a plan, a terrible one¡ªone that would see it consume an entire village to restore itself. A blood sacrifice of such magnitude would allow it to regain its former strength, something Nando couldn¡¯t let happen.


    He glanced at the recruits around him. Edmund, with his flame whip coiling in his hands, wore a confident smirk. His control had improved dramatically since people like Ronald had last seen him. But it wasn¡¯t the flame that caught Nando¡¯s attention¡ªit was the subtle arrogance in his stance, the belief that his power was enough to solve anything.


    Gato, however, was different. He and Nando had bonded through their shared experiences with Fiendfinger. Gato¡¯s transformation was less gruesome than Nando¡¯s, but just as irreversible. His bird-like eyes glinted in the fading light, and Nando knew Gato was itching for the skies. There was a quiet yearning in him, a pull toward something greater, but it wasn¡¯t time yet. Gato would soar eventually, Nando knew that much, but for now, they were both grounded, caught in the web of this cursed mission.


    The other recruits, non-gifted and gifted alike, kept their distance. Nando had grown accustomed to the cold stares and the unease people felt around him. The veins crawling across his skin, the dark aura that followed him¡ªthey were a constant reminder that he wasn¡¯t quite like the others. But that suited him fine. He didn¡¯t need their approval. He just needed to get this mission over with.


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    As they trudged through the dense undergrowth, Greenthumb raised his hand, signaling the group to halt. ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± he muttered, his voice low and commanding. His fingers twitched, and the surrounding plants bent to his will, parting to reveal the remnants of stone. ¡°The gargoyle¡¯s injured, but that doesn¡¯t make it any less dangerous. Stay alert.¡±


    Nando tensed, feeling the vibration in the earth beneath his feet. His powers were still new to him, but he had learned enough to recognize the signs. The ground felt different here, charged with something darker. He instinctively pressed his hand to the dirt, allowing his veins to stretch out like webbing, sinking into the soil. The earth whispered to him, its secrets spilling into his mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s moving,¡± Nando murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°But... something¡¯s wrong. It¡¯s slower, maybe decaying, but it¡¯s not far.¡±


    Greenthumb nodded, his sharp gaze scanning the area. Salamander, on the other hand, remained silent, his imposing form covered in shimmering scales, ready for battle. The dragon apostle exuded raw power, his draconic transformation always teetering on the edge of control. He would be their vanguard when the fight came, that much was clear.


    As they moved deeper into the forest, the broken remnants of the gargoyle¡¯s body began to appear more frequently¡ªchunks of stone littering the ground, some still glowing faintly with ancient marks. Nando couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the gargoyle was more than just a monster. There was something ancient about it, something connected to the dark power he was only beginning to understand.


    Edmund whipped his flame forward, his cocky grin in place. ¡°Let¡¯s just find this thing and put it out of its misery.¡±


    Gato, quiet and calculating, kept his bird-like eyes focused on the horizon. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, Edmund,¡± he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of their shared experiences. ¡°We don¡¯t know how desperate it¡¯s become.¡±


    Nando nodded in agreement. ¡°And desperate creatures are very unpredictable.¡±


    As they continued to follow the trail, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the forest. The air grew colder, and Nando¡¯s breath came out in visible puffs. The group pressed on, moving with purpose, though the tension was palpable.


    Then they saw it¡ªa silhouette against the twilight, hulking and broken. The gargoyle. Its once-majestic wings were cracked and crumbling, its stone body riddled with fractures, but its eyes glowed with an unnatural light. It was monstrous and magnificent, an ancient thing clinging to life with fierce determination.


    Salamander stepped forward, his body shifting as red scales began to ripple across his skin, his form growing larger, more imposing. ¡°Get into position,¡± he growled, his voice low and dangerous.


    Nando couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this wasn¡¯t just a simple kill. There was something more at play, something deeper. As Salamander prepared to charge, Nando caught Gato¡¯s eye. They both knew this mission wasn¡¯t over. The gargoyle was just the beginning.

 Chapter 71: The Infinite Well

    Chapter 71: The Infinite Well


    As Abel sat outside the cathedral, the night air was crisp, a chill clinging to the remnants of the damp ground. The ruined village loomed ominously behind him, their shadows long and jagged against the cold stone walls. His eyes, however, were drawn upward, locked on the heavens. The stars were different tonight, their light flickering with a strange rhythm that resonated deep within his chest. It was as if they were trying to speak to him, their distant glow calling out with a message he could not fully comprehend. There was a tension in the air, one that had been growing ever since his transformation. His connection to the stars had always been strong, but tonight, it felt¡­ alive, as though the celestial bodies above were whispering secrets long forgotten.


    He sat there, motionless, the cold biting at his skin, but he barely noticed. The stars shimmered, their light distant and indifferent, but the pull they exerted on him was almost overwhelming. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled over him like a fog. When he opened them again, the stars pulsed, and for a brief moment, Abel felt a surge of clarity, as though he were on the cusp of understanding something profound. But just as quickly, the moment passed, leaving only questions in its wake.


    Dawn came slowly, the pale light of the rising sun doing little to dispel the lingering sense of unease. Abel couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the stars had shown him something important, something crucial to their journey. As they prepared to venture deeper into the ruins, Abel mentioned the sensation to Gravedigger. The apostle, always grim, listened with a sharp gaze, his dark eyes betraying a flicker of interest.


    ¡°These ruins,¡± Gravedigger began, his voice low and gravelly, ¡°were once sacred to the nomads. They followed the stars, trusted them to guide their fates. But then, something changed. They turned away from the heavens, and in doing so, sealed their own destruction. Some say they sold their souls to an ancient, fallen god. If that¡¯s true, their fate was never theirs to control.¡±


    His words hung heavy between them, the weight of history pressing down like a physical force. As they ventured further into the crumbling halls of the ruins, Abel¡¯s connection to the stars only deepened. Each step seemed to pull him closer to something ancient, something twisted yet disturbingly familiar. The air was thick with the remnants of old magic, corrupted and distorted by whatever had consumed the nomads so long ago.


    The group moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the silence as they made their way through the dark, narrow corridors. The ruins were a labyrinth, each turn leading them deeper into the forgotten world of the past. The light from Gerald¡¯s glowing mushroom cast eerie shadows on the walls, flickering as if the ruins themselves were alive and watching their every move.


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    After what felt like hours, they entered a massive chamber. The ceiling stretched high above them, disappearing into the darkness, while the stone walls were covered in strange, indecipherable markings. At the center of the room stood an ancient well, its black surface gleaming ominously in the dim light. As they approached, a thick, green mist began to rise from the well¡¯s depths, swirling through the air like ghostly tendrils reaching out for them.


    Abel stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his chest. The mist was thick and unnatural, moving with a purpose that made his skin crawl. It clung to the air, twisting and curling around them, though it wasn¡¯t connected to anything. It was as though the mist had no source, no tether to the world around it. It simply existed¡ªominous, suffocating, alive.


    Gravedigger stepped closer to the well, his brow furrowed in suspicion. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a well,¡± he muttered, his voice filled with a strange mix of awe and dread. ¡°It¡¯s a gate. A gate to something strange.¡±


    As the words left his mouth, Abel felt the stars pulse within him, their rhythm slow and deliberate, matching the energy emanating from the well. The vines they had encountered before seemed to stretch from this very spot, feeding off the dark energy that pulsed beneath the ground. This was the source of the corruption, the reason the ruins were so twisted and dangerous. Whatever lay beneath this well had consumed the nomads, drawn them in with promises of power and salvation, only to destroy them.


    ¡°We need to step back,¡± Jane whispered, her voice trembling with fear. ¡°This¡­ this place is wrong. We shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    But no one moved. Despite the growing sense of danger, they found themselves drawn toward the well, as though something unseen was pulling them forward. The green mist continued to swirl around them, wrapping itself around their limbs, whispering silent promises that made their hearts race and their minds fog. Abel¡¯s thoughts became distant, his body moving on its own accord as he stepped closer to the edge.


    He peered into the well, his eyes straining to see into the darkness that stretched down into oblivion. The blackness seemed to go on forever, an infinite void that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic beat. It wasn¡¯t just a void¡ªit was alive, filled with dark energy that beckoned him forward, promising answers to the questions that plagued his mind. The stars, once so clear and bright, now felt distant and far away, their light barely reaching him as the darkness pulled him in.


    Without a word, Gravedigger stepped into the well, his form swallowed by the blackness. One by one, the others followed, their faces blank, devoid of fear or hesitation. Abel watched as they disappeared into the void, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he should stop, should turn back, but something held him in place, urging him forward. Before he could think to stop himself, he too stepped into the well, the cold, all-encompassing blackness wrapping around him like a shroud.


    The last thing he remembered was the rhythmic pulse of the dark energy that filled the well, the stars flickering faintly in the distance through hi connection to them, and the sudden, overwhelming sense of falling. Then, there was nothing. The darkness consumed him, pulling him deeper into the void.

 Chapter 72: The Village of Bliss

    Chapter 72: The Village of Bliss


    As Abel and the others descended into the mysterious well, they never hit a bottom. Instead, they found themselves stepping out into a radiant, peaceful village. The air was warm, filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sounds of laughter and music echoed throughout the streets. People were everywhere, dressed in vibrant clothing¡ªflowing robes of rich greens, golds, and soft purples. Their garments, though simple, were adorned with intricate embroidery, depicting symbols of the sun, stars, and strange patterns that Abel couldn''t place. It felt inviting, yet deeply foreign.


    The architecture of the village was a charming mix of simplicity and beauty. Wooden houses lined the cobblestone streets, each structure adorned with flowering vines that crept up the sides of the buildings, their petals open in full bloom. Roofs were thatched with soft reeds, yet they seemed almost polished, gleaming in the sunlight as though the place was caught in a perpetual spring. At the heart of the village was a large stone fountain, water flowing from a sculpted figure resembling a woman who cradled a vessel. The water sparkled with an otherworldly glow, reflecting the vibrant life surrounding it.


    The village square was alive with festivities. A large party was underway, with villagers dancing to songs that sounded ancient yet cheerful, sung in a language Abel didn¡¯t recognize. Drums beat in a hypnotic rhythm while flutes played soft, whimsical melodies. Laughter rang out as children ran through the square, their faces painted with bright colors, while adults clapped and swayed to the music. Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel at home in this place, as if he had stumbled into a long-lost memory of joy and belonging.


    Even though he had only just arrived, the warmth of the villagers¡¯ welcome wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. He smiled at the strangers who greeted him as though they had known him for years. Abel¡¯s heart stirred with an unfamiliar happiness¡ªsomething deep within him softened. There was a flicker of something that told him this was right. Or at least, it felt right. His confusion about why he had come here began to dissolve.


    The village elder, an old man with silver hair and a bright smile, welcomed Abel and the others, guiding them toward the heart of the celebration. His voice was kind, and his presence gentle as he placed a hand on Abel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Join us, child. There is joy here¡ªjoy you have been searching for,¡± he said. The words struck something deep within Abel, and even though he felt like he should ask questions¡ªabout the well, about the mission¡ªthose thoughts slipped away, replaced by a desire to join the villagers in their happiness.


    As the elder led them through the square, the recruits were gradually pulled in different directions. Ronald was ushered toward a group of men building something near a pretty lake located close to the village. He laughed alongside them, learning how to craft wooden tools and enjoying the simplicity of the work. His previous skill with his water affinity seemed a distant dream as he focused solely on this new task, losing himself in the camaraderie of the village life, as he adjusted the glasses on his face.


    Jane had found her place among the village women, who sat together weaving colorful tapestries. Her fingers moved deftly through the threads, each knot and pattern bringing her a quiet sense of peace. The fierce wind manipulator who had once battled beside her comrades was now engrossed in conversations about the village¡¯s history and the beauty of its culture.


    Abu, too, had found his own version of paradise, venturing out into the meadows for birdwatching. His once calculating eyes now softened as he watched the vibrant birds flutter between the trees, the worries of battle left far behind. Each bird seemed to offer him a sense of joy, and with each sighting, his heart felt lighter, his mind clearer. Gerald, on the other hand, was deeply content tending to the village¡¯s gardens, already making plans to grow mushrooms wherever he could. He had a natural gift for caring for plants, and here, it blossomed. He walked among the lush greenery, nurturing the vibrant life around him. The plants responded to his care, flourishing under his attentive hands. Each leaf and flower seemed to glow with health, reflecting the peaceful energy Gerald exuded.


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    Even Tina, always so proud and distant, seemed to have let down her guard. She stood near the village elder, listening intently as he spoke of the village¡¯s traditions. Her sharp demeanor had melted away, replaced by a soft smile that Abel had never seen before. She no longer carried the same weight of arrogance¡ªhere, in this paradise, they were all equals, all part of something greater.


    For Abel, the allure of the village was irresistible. He soon found himself laughing and talking with the villagers, his previous worries slipping away like leaves carried by the wind. There was a strange comfort in it all. Why couldn¡¯t life always be like this? He wondered. The question echoed in his mind as he sat with the village elder, enjoying the festive atmosphere.


    At the height of the party, the village elder offered Abel a drink¡ªa golden liquid called the Holy Nectar. It was presented to him in a simple, wooden cup, yet it seemed to glow from within. ¡°This is the essence of our joy,¡± the elder explained with a smile. ¡°Drink, and you will understand the peace we have found here.¡±


    Abel hesitated for only a moment before taking a sip. The nectar flooded his senses¡ªsweet, rich, and filled with warmth. It wasn¡¯t just a drink; it was an experience. The moment the liquid touched his lips, Abel felt something shift inside him. His mind became light, his body relaxed, and a feeling of pure contentment washed over him. The troubles of the past¡ªwhatever they had been¡ªseemed like distant shadows compared to the brilliance of this moment. This is it, he thought. This is the life I¡¯ve always needed.


    Days melted seamlessly into weeks, and the recruits had fully integrated into village life, completely abandoning their past duties and memories of the Tower. Abel, once driven by the urge to grow stronger, had become utterly consumed by the allure of the Holy Nectar. He drank it daily, savoring its euphoric effects, and the idea of sharing this blissful secret with the world filled his heart with joy. The beverage had become his obsession, the liquid itself a symbol of peace and everlasting contentment. Abel now spent his days talking about the Nectar to anyone who would listen, weaving it into every aspect of his new life. He believed it was the true key to eternal happiness, his former ambitions erased from his mind.


    Ronald, usually practical and grounded, found joy in the camaraderie of village life. He spent hours by the lake, laughing and building boats with the village men.


    Jane, ever the fierce wind manipulator, now found peace in weaving. She developed a close relationship with an older woman from the village, who taught her the delicate art of crafting tapestries. Her hands, once used for controlling the winds in battle, now wove intricate patterns into beautiful fabrics. Jane cherished these lessons, the quiet wisdom of her teacher, and the long conversations they had as they worked. She even began to imagine herself settling here forever, teaching others the skills she¡¯d learned.


    Tina, who had always maintained her distance from the non-gifted recruits, found herself strangely drawn to the village¡¯s tranquility. She would often spend hours listening to the elder speak of the village''s rich history and traditions. The arrogance she once held had melted away, replaced by a newfound humility. She had grown particularly close to a young farmer named Lior, whose straightforward kindness soothed her fierce independence. Their connection blossomed, and the fire within her dimmed, replaced by something gentler¡ªperhaps even love.


    Abu and Gerald were the most content of them all. Abu, a quiet man by nature, took to birdwatching as if it were his calling. Every morning, he would rise with the sun, a peaceful smile on his face, and venture into the meadows to watch the birds take flight. His days were spent in silent awe, surrounded by the fluttering of wings and the gentle songs of the wild. Gerald, always attuned to nature, spent his time in the village gardens, cultivating the lush greenery that thrived under his care. He nurtured every plant with devotion, talking to them as if they were old friends, watching them grow and bloom with pride. For the first time in his life, he felt truly at peace, as if his purpose had been found among the soil and vines.


    The village seemed to exist in its own bubble, untouched by the worries of the outside world. None of the recruits spoke of their mission, of the Tower, or of the dangers they had once prepared to face. Life had slowed, and they had all succumbed to the gentle pull of the village¡¯s blissful routine.

 Chapter 73: Into the Crystal Depths

    Chapter 73: Into the Crystal Depths


    The cavern was illuminated by an eerie glow from the blue crystals embedded in the walls, casting faint, shifting light that danced with every breath. Sena stood tall, his powerful frame glistening with the remnants of battle as his body regenerated from a few scrapes and bruises. The shattered crystalline creatures littering the floor were no match for him, but the battle had been fierce. The gentle glow of the crystals lulled them into a brief sense of peace, though a tension still simmered beneath the surface.


    ¡°This place is something else,¡± Isabella murmured, her serpent coiled around her arm. The snake''s once smooth scales now resembled the crystals of the fallen enemies. She fed it a fragment of one of the creatures, and it shrank, returning to its small, wrist-sized form, content but tense, as though sensing the growing tension.


    Apostle Wolf stood at the forefront of the group, exuding an aura of control and barely contained power. His transformation was striking: a towering figure with thick, dark fur covering his muscular body, wolf-like features accentuating his heightened senses. His eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness, and his elongated limbs, ending in razor-sharp claws, only enhanced his lethal appearance. The wind seemed to obey his every movement, swirling around him in soft gusts as if awaiting his command. Wolf¡¯s entire form, though humanoid, was a terrifying blend of man and beast, perfectly complementing his wind affinity. The combination made him nearly untouchable; the wind flowed around him as if part of his body, enhancing his speed and precision. Each breath he took was measured, and even in his beast-like state, he radiated calm¡ªan assurance that no matter what foe lay ahead, it would fall to his claws.


    His voice, a deep growl, sliced through the tense silence of the cavern, ¡°Don¡¯t get too comfortable,¡± he warned, his words carrying a natural authority that made even the bravest of recruits flinch. Wolf, with his wind-like movements and devastating power, was a force of nature¡ªa storm ready to be unleashed.


    The group moved deeper into the mine, and as they did, the atmosphere began to shift. The once warm blue light from the crystals gave way to a strange, oppressive purple glow. The air grew thicker, almost suffocating, heavy with some unseen malice.


    Isabella¡¯s serpent hissed softly, mirroring her unease. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong with these crystals¡­¡± she trailed off, her eyes scanning the darkening environment.


    The group entered a large clearing, where the ground was littered with massive shards of purple crystal. At the center stood a jagged tower of pulsating purple light. It seemed to be alive, quivering and shifting, before cracking open to reveal a grotesque creature¡ªa massive snail-like being with a shell made of purple crystal, its body dark and slimy. Instead of eyes, sharp spikes of purple crystal jutted from its head, and it hummed rhythmically as if drawing power from the surrounding crystals.


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    Its slow, deliberate movements filled the cavern with a terrifying dread. Each undulating step seemed to carry the weight of the mine itself, as though it controlled the entire space. A deep, malicious hum filled the air as if the creature itself was feeding off the energy in the room.


    ¡°Ready yourselves!¡± Wolf commanded, his claws extending as he crouched low, preparing for the fight.


    Sena¡¯s heart raced, excitement bubbling up. He craved the challenge this creature posed. His crimson gauntlets glowed with the heat from his fists, which had grown so hot they radiated a molten red hue. His magical chains responded in kind, glowing as they wrapped around his arms, enhancing his strength. With a powerful roar, Sena charged forward, aiming a powerful punch at the creature¡¯s shell.


    The impact echoed through the cavern, but to Sena¡¯s surprise, the shell barely cracked. The snail groaned, its deep voice shaking the walls as it swung one of its crystal-covered tentacles toward Sena. He leaped back just in time, but the tentacle struck a non-gifted recruit square in the chest, launching him into a crystal wall. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the cavern as his body fell lifeless to the ground.


    For a brief moment, the group froze, horror settling in as the recruit¡¯s body lay crumpled and broken. ¡°Damn it!¡± Wolf cursed, his body blurring as he darted toward the creature. His claws sliced through its slimy flesh, but the snail¡¯s ability to regenerate was frightening. Every wound Wolf inflicted was quickly healed, and the creature''s crystal shell pulsed brighter, drawing power from the surrounding shards.


    ¡°We need to cut off its power source!¡± Isabella shouted, her snake growing larger as it lashed out, shattering one of the purple crystals. The snail screeched in pain, its movements slowing.


    ¡°She¡¯s right!¡± Wolf barked. ¡°Take out the crystals¡ªit¡¯s feeding off them!¡±


    Sena, grinning with determination, redirected his attacks, aiming for the glowing crystals around the snail. With each blow, the creature¡¯s strength diminished. Yet the fight was far from over. The snail lashed out more violently, its tentacles crashing down with increased speed, each strike filled with a desperate fury.


    A gifted recruit, manipulating the wind, sent a gust that knocked the snail into the shattered remnants of its crystal shell. The creature screeched, writhing in agony as it tried to regenerate. Isabella¡¯s snake tore through another cluster of crystals, its large body crushing the stones with ease.


    With a final burst of strength, Sena charged toward the last of the crystals, his gauntlets glowing brighter than ever. He slammed his fists down, shattering the pillar into dust. The snail¡¯s shell cracked under the pressure, and the creature let out one final, deafening screech before its body collapsed in on itself, turning to dust.


    The cavern fell into silence. The oppressive energy that had filled the room lifted as the last of the purple crystals dimmed and died. The recruits stood, breathing heavily, their victory tinged with the sorrow of loss.


    ¡°We¡¯ve lost one,¡± Wolf said quietly, looking at the lifeless recruit. His voice, usually hard, was soft with regret. ¡°But we move forward.¡±


    Sena clenched his fists, the adrenaline of battle fading into the grim reality of their situation. Victory had come at a cost.


    As they gathered their remaining strength, Wolf turned to the group. ¡°Take some of the crystals back to the Tower. They¡¯ll want to know what happened here.¡± The remaining recruits nodded in agreement, their faces pale but determined. They had won this battle, but the deeper they ventured into the mines, the greater the dangers they would face.

 Chapter 74: The Nectar’s Deception

    Chapter 74: The Nectar¡¯s Deception


    More days, possibly weeks, passed in the idyllic village, and Abel had become closely intertwined with the village¡¯s daily life. Every morning felt the same, yet filled with a warmth that kept him from questioning too much. The villagers greeted him with smiles, and the village head had grown fond of him, assigning him to various tasks¡ªsmall jobs that helped keep the village thriving. Abel found himself drawn to this peaceful life, losing track of time in this place that seemed free of worries or hardships.


    The village head was especially impressed by Abel¡¯s work ethic and spirit, gradually involving him in more intimate tasks: Protecting the village''s precious garden or being with the elder more often than others.


    As the sun bathed the village in its golden light, the village elder beckoned Abel to follow him. They walked through narrow stone pathways, past vibrant homes where villagers sang in joy. The village felt alive, buzzing with energy. Abel couldn''t help but feel a sense of belonging, despite the strange, distant nagging sensation in the back of his mind¡ªsomething important that he couldn¡¯t quite remember.


    They arrived at a secluded garden behind the elder¡¯s home, a place Abel had never seen before, different from the village''s garden that Gerald seemed to adore. The air here was different, thicker with an almost palpable energy. At the center of the garden stood a plant. Not just any plant, but a mesmerizing, ethereal vine wrapped around a stone pillar. Its leaves shimmered with colors Abel had no name for, and flowers bloomed from it, their petals pulsing faintly, almost in sync with his own heartbeat. The sheer beauty of the plant struck him hard; tears welled in his eyes as he gazed at it, overcome with emotion. How could anything be so perfect?


    The village head stood beside him, his voice reverent. ¡°This is the source of the nectar, Abel. The Holy Nectar. It has blessed our village for generations, and with it, we stay eternally happy, content. But to keep it thriving, to keep its gifts¡­ it requires sacrifice.¡±


    Abel didn¡¯t flinch. The plant was too beautiful, too otherworldly for him to question. In his mind, the sacrifices made sense¡ªa necessary offering to the divine to ensure the village¡¯s joy. He nodded, his heart swelling with an almost unnatural devotion. ¡°What must I do?¡± he asked, his voice soft, almost eager to serve.


    The village head placed a hand on Abel¡¯s shoulder, smiling in approval. ¡°There will be a ritual in a few days. I would be honored if you assisted. Together, we will bring more nectar, more joy, to the village.¡±


    Abel felt a rush of pride. He would help. He would do anything to make sure the nectar continued to flow.


    ¡­


    The day of the ritual had arrived, and the village buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with the scent of the plant that was at the heart of everything. Abel followed the village head to the garden, where the plant seemed to pulse with life, its vibrant colors shifting in hypnotic patterns beneath the dim evening light. Villagers had gathered around, their eyes fixated on Abel and the elder, watching in a reverent silence as if something divine was about to happen.


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    The elder approached Abel with a dark smile and revealed a worn leather bag. Without hesitation, he opened it to reveal its grisly contents¡ªsevered heads, lifeless eyes staring back at Abel. The bloodied remains of whatever sacrifices they had made for this ritual stared blankly into the distance. Strangely, Abel felt no horror or disgust. Where he might have once recoiled in revulsion, now there was only emptiness.


    The elder''s voice was low, almost reverent as he said, "These offerings will strengthen the plant. The nectar will flow freely."


    Abel nodded, his expression blank but inside, something felt... off. His mind was clouded, the village¡¯s intoxicating energy clinging to his thoughts. Still under the spell of the village¡¯s nectar, his sense of self seemed distant, muffled by the all-consuming illusion. Yet, through the haze, an idea formed, a flicker of memory of his past. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the villagers'' eyes on him.


    "I... I know of a ritual too," Abel began, his voice uncertain but genuine. "One that brings good luck. It¡¯s something I learned from a friend... If we do our rituals simultaneously we might have a better harvest and ritual."


    The elder¡¯s eyes gleamed with interest, his lips curling into a sly grin. ¡°Luck? That would be most welcome,¡± he mused, his voice laced with anticipation. ¡°Perform your ritual, Abel. Let¡¯s see what fortune it brings."


    Abel asked for additional materials to complete the luck ritual. The elder''s grin never faltered as he gestured for one of the villagers to retrieve additional bodies¡ªmagical creatures that Abel requested.


    In no time at all, the butcher returned with the twisted remains of these creatures, their essence still clinging to their lifeless forms. Abel hesitated for just a second before accepting them and preparing to perform the ritual. He arranged the bodies in a circular pattern around the plant, his mind spinning with both the task at hand and the strange pull he felt from the stars. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced.


    As Abel went through the motions of the ritual, he felt a change in the air. The plant¡¯s colors intensified, shifting from vibrant greens and yellows to deeper, darker hues. It pulsed in time with his movements, almost as if it were alive, responding to his ritual. The air around them thickened, growing even sweeter, intoxicating. The villagers watched with bated breath, their eyes fixed on the ritual unfolding before them.


    Then, something happened.


    For a fleeting moment, the world around Abel wavered, and the illusion cracked. The stars above, which had always seemed like distant, static points of light, flickered with a strange, almost real energy. Abel¡¯s connection to them surged through him, sharper than ever before, almost overwhelming. His chest tightened as he realized something was very wrong. The plant wasn¡¯t a divine gift as the village had claimed. No, it was a curse¡ªa dark, twisted presence that had ensnared them all. The joy, the nectar, the tranquility of the village¡ªit was all an elaborate trap. They were prisoners here, trapped in a facade that had consumed their lives and minds.


    His heart raced, but he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn''t reveal what he''d just discovered¡ªnot yet. Abel masked his horror, plastering a disappointed expression on his face as he finished the ritual. ¡°It didn¡¯t work,¡± he said softly, his voice deliberately flat and disheartened.


    The elder¡¯s eyes darkened, but he offered Abel a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they were still able to harvest a bit of nectar. ¡°No matter, my boy. Not all rituals are meant to succeed on the first attempt. One day, we will find the key, and the nectar will bring us even greater fortune.¡±


    Abel nodded numbly, his thoughts racing as he tried to process the enormity of what he had seen. Behind the elder¡¯s warm smile, Abel saw the truth¡ªa sinister undertone that had been hidden beneath the illusion. He had to escape. He had to warn the others, but not yet. He couldn¡¯t let on that he knew. There was too much at stake, and the village¡¯s grip on him was still strong.


    As the elder and the villagers began to disperse, Abel remained by the plant, his gaze turning upward once more to the stars. They flickered again, but this time their message was clear.


    Get out.


    Abel stood there for a few more moments, the weight of his discovery pressing down on him. He had to find a way to break free from the village¡¯s hold, but the path ahead was murky. One thing was certain¡ªif he didn¡¯t act soon, the village, the nectar, and the curse it held would consume him entirely.

 Chapter 75: Awakening

    Chapter 75: Awakening


    The morning sun bathed the village in a soft, warm glow, but to Abel, the world seemed off-kilter. He felt out of place, as if there was a fog around his memories that was slowly dispersing, and yet, deep within, something stirred. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became¡ªhe needed to find Gravedigger. He set out, walking through the peaceful streets of the village. Everywhere he looked, people went about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of any larger purpose beyond their perfect little world.


    He passed Ronald near the lake which made him feel pity for Ronald, who was focused on building a boat. The sight was strange yet comforting. ¡°Hey, Abel,¡± Ronald called, wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°Good day for a build, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Abel waved back. "Yeah, it¡¯s... peaceful," he said, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. Peaceful wasn¡¯t right¡ªit was too peaceful.


    Moving through the village, Abel noticed just how picturesque everything was. The villagers were dressed in simple, colorful garments, their clothes reflecting the joy they seemed to radiate. Yet the more he saw, the more unsettling it all became. The bright flowers blooming unnaturally, the harmony in their songs, the carefree laughter. It felt forced¡ªmanufactured. As if this wasn¡¯t where he was meant to be.


    Eventually, Abel found himself at the cemetery, an oddly quiet place compared to the rest of the village. The scent of fresh earth and flowers mixed in the air as he passed rows of gravestones. Gravedigger stood at the far end, his large frame hunched over a grave he was tending. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, dark bags shadowing his usually sharp features.


    Abel approached cautiously, testing the situation. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve really come to love that Holy Nectar... It¡¯s, well, pretty incredible.¡± Abel''s tone was light, probing for a reaction.


    Gravedigger grunted, nodding slightly. ¡°Mmm¡­ yes, quite the drink.¡± His voice was neutral, but his expression lacked the zeal Abel had come to expect from those enthralled by the village¡¯s charm.


    Abel took another step. ¡°Feels like this village has become home for us. Almost makes me forget about... the Tower, the expedition. Crazy, right?¡±


    Gravedigger froze. His hand tightened on the shovel, and his tired eyes flickered with recognition. He turned to Abel, his voice low and urgent. ¡°Not here. Follow me.¡±


    They moved to the far corner of the cemetery, hidden behind an ancient stone wall. Gravedigger let out a long, weary sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve been awake for a while now... but I couldn¡¯t act. The village head¡¯s been watching me. Rejecting the nectar more than once drew his suspicion.¡±


    Abel felt a wave of relief and excitement. ¡°I snapped out of it too,¡± he admitted, his voice quickening. ¡°I think it¡¯s my connection to the stars¡ªit helped me see through the illusion.¡±


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    Gravedigger nodded, as if this was no surprise to him. ¡°The stars...¡± he mused. ¡°Before the nomads were corrupted, they were known for their devotion to the celestial bodies. They looked to the stars for guidance. It wasn¡¯t until they abandoned them, until they turned to that dark god, that everything went wrong. Maybe the stars are still watching over us.¡±


    Abel was stunned. He had always felt a pull toward the stars since his transformation, but this revelation felt like a missing piece to a puzzle. ¡°We have to destroy that plant,¡± Abel said, determination growing. ¡°It¡¯s the source.¡±


    Gravedigger nodded grimly. ¡°I¡¯ve been planning it. But we need to be careful. The village elder is no ordinary man... and that plant is no ordinary plant.¡±


    They spoke in hushed tones, plotting their move. As they parted ways, Abel felt a renewed sense of purpose. The stars had guided him this far¡ªhe would trust them to help him see this through.


    That night, Abel sat in the backyard of his small village house, staring up at the sky. The stars twinkled down at him, brighter and more alive than they ever had been. They seemed to pulse with an energy that called out to him, beckoning him to join them.


    He raised his hand, fingers outstretched toward the heavens, and to his amazement, the stars above began to dance. Not just twinkling, but truly moving, as if they were communicating with him. The sky shimmered with their brilliance, and Abel felt the connection deepening. His fingertips began to glow, bright and ethereal, as tiny stars formed at the tips of his fingers.


    A surge of emotion flooded him. Awe. Wonder. Gratitude. He was no longer just watching the stars¡ªhe was part of them. He stood, feeling the energy course through him as the stars above mirrored the ones now floating around his fingers. Ten bright, shining stars danced in a circle around him, their light soft yet powerful.


    Abel moved instinctively, a dance of sorts, as the stars followed his every motion. With each movement, the stars pulsed, teaching him something new. He began to understand their language¡ªthe way they communicated through light and energy. He flicked his wrist, and the stars spun faster, creating a spiral of light around him. He manipulated them as if they were an extension of his body, with a thought a single star broke away from the cluster, and with his will, Abel made the star spin incredibly fast. Suddenly abel lowered his arm as if in a choreographed movement and the star shot a fast powerful beam of starlight at the ground, causing it to burn and char. The beam disappeared as fast as it came simultaneously, the star¡¯s spin came to a pause slowly returning to its cluster like a duckling going back to its brood.


    And then, with a single thought, he willed the stars to press down.


    The air around him rippled, and suddenly, the gravity shifted. The grass at his feet flattened, the trees bent slightly, and the very earth seemed to bow to the force he had summoned. Abel¡¯s eyes widened in amazement. He had done it¡ªhe had bent gravity itself. He had learned new techniques from the illusory stars themselves. An unbelievable feat even he was unable to grasp.


    The stars above shone brighter for a moment, as if they were acknowledging his achievement. Then, slowly, the stars surrounding him dimmed and collapsed back into his fingertips, their light disappearing into the night sky. Abel stood there, breathless, staring at the now still stars, as if thanking them for their guidance. He knew this was an illusory world, but how could these stars feel so real?


    His heart raced with excitement and clarity. He had unlocked something incredible, something that would help them all. But now, the next step was clear¡ªhe had to destroy the plant and free the others.


    With a newfound sense of power and purpose, Abel returned to his house, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. He and Gravedigger had to act soon. The stars had given him the strength he needed, and now it was time to bring this illusory paradise crashing down.

 Chapter 76: Reflections in Ghost Water

    Chapter 76: Reflections in Ghost Water


    Ronald moved through the village streets, his steps light, dancing and singing like the rest of the enchanted villagers. A warm, fake smile adorned his face, blending perfectly with the ongoing revelry. He twirled as a villager handed him a cup of Holy Nectar, which he accepted graciously, keeping his movements as carefree as ever. He faked a long sip, bringing the cup to his lips, though he didn¡¯t let a drop pass his throat. Instead, with a deft and practiced movement, he passed the cup to another villager, continuing his dance.


    Ronald had mastered the art of faking. His affinity for water allowed him to control liquid even within his mouth. Every time someone offered him the Holy Nectar, he¡¯d take it in and hold the liquid in a small water barrier before discreetly spitting it out. His other advantage was the glasses brought with him from his family; they allowed him to see through magic and illusions.


    These glasses showed him something horrifying: the happy villagers, so full of life and joy to everyone else, were nothing but ghostly apparitions when viewed through the lenses. Their faces contorted in terror, mouths open in silent screams, eyes pleading for help. The stark contrast between the illusion and the reality haunted Ronald, but he knew he had to keep his calm. Exposing himself too soon would risk everything.


    As he strolled through the village, greeting others and pretending to be as entranced as they were, he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the eerie contrast between the illusion and the reality he saw through the glasses. The most disturbing sight wasn¡¯t the villagers but the Village Elder. Through the glasses, he looked perfectly normal¡ªno distortion, no screams¡ªjust a calm, unsettling figure. This was the most concerning thing of all.


    Ronald understood he had to be cautious. The Elder wasn¡¯t just part of the illusion; he was something far more dangerous. Perhaps even the puppet master. Ronald didn¡¯t know how powerful the Elder was, so until he could be sure of his own strength, he had to bide his time.


    He walked to the nearby lake, a part of his daily routine that offered some solace and, more importantly, privacy. The other villagers rarely bothered him there. The lake, however, wasn¡¯t as serene as it seemed. Even when viewed through his glasses, it remained a lake¡ªbut there was something off about it. The water was ghastly, and sometimes, Ronald could hear faint whispers, see ghostly faces rippling in the water. The lake seemed to hold secrets, much like the village itself.


    Ronald¡¯s thoughts often wandered to the rituals and techniques he had learned before the expedition. He had explored many non-gifted paths to power, including methods that could bind elements to his affinity. He considered whether the lake could be part of a greater ritual¡ªsomething he could assimilate into his water affinity to increase his strength. Could he bond with the lake, making it an extension of himself? The prospect was risky, but if it worked, it would push him toward building his mana pool¡ªan essential step to escape and free his friends.


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    While working on the boat by the lake, Abel walked by, greeting Ronald cheerfully, his smile wide and carefree. Ronald played along, forcing a bright smile to mask the pang of guilt that pierced his heart. His friend, Abel, one of the brightest recruits Ronald knew, was now completely lost in this illusion. Seeing Abel so devoted to the Village Head, who was likely orchestrating all of this, made Ronald uneasy.


    ¡°Hey, Abel,¡± Ronald called, wiping sweat from his brow. Trying to play it all off, ¡°Good day for a build, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Abel waved back. "Yeah, it¡¯s... peaceful," he said, making Ronald inwardly shake his head determined to help Abel snap out of it one day. This interaction felt like it occurred so often, Ronald never found it strange in this strange place.


    Ronald felt the weight of the situation crush down on him. Abel was fully enthralled, working directly with the Village Head, blissfully unaware of the horrors beneath the surface. The sight of his friend so far gone only made Ronald more determined. He had to move quickly. Time seemed fluid here, and he couldn¡¯t tell how long they¡¯d been trapped in this illusion, but he feared that too much time had already passed.


    Ronald turned back to the lake, staring into its dark waters. He could hear the whispers again, see the strange faces within its depths. His fingers clenched tightly on the wooden edge of the boat he was building.


    ¡°If this is going to work,¡± he muttered under his breath, ¡°then I¡¯ll need to take a risk.¡± He had no choice. The lake might hold the key to breaking free, and if assimilating it into his water affinity gave him the power he needed, he was willing to gamble. But first, he would need to perform the ritual in secret, away from the eyes of the villagers and, most importantly, the Village Head.


    Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Ronald knelt by the lake¡¯s edge, dipping his fingers into the cold, ghostly water. He closed his eyes, feeling the ebb and flow of the water against his skin, listening to the strange whispers beneath the surface. The voices were growing louder, more insistent, and they seemed to be calling to him.


    Taking a deep breath, Ronald began to murmur the ancient words of the ritual he had learned¡ªa binding technique to connect with a body of water, to make it a part of himself. His words were quiet, barely audible over the wind, but the lake responded. Its surface rippled, and the ghostly faces beneath the water became clearer. The whispers grew louder.


    Ronald opened his eyes. This was just the beginning. He would need more time, more preparation¡ªbut this was his path forward. The lake could give him the power he needed to challenge the illusion and the Village Head.


    As he stood, he looked once more at the village in the distance, the cheerful figures dancing and laughing in the streets. ¡°I¡¯ll get us out of here,¡± Ronald whispered, his resolve hardening. ¡°I just need a little more time.¡±


    The weight of the world seemed to press down on him, but he wouldn¡¯t let it break him. Not yet.

 Chapter 77: Different Forms of Terror

    Chapter 77: Different Forms of Terror


    For two grueling months, Nando¡¯s expedition team had been locked in a brutal struggle with the Gargoyle terror. The creature was relentless, reforming from its shattered remains after every encounter, shrinking in size but growing in sheer intensity and danger. What had begun as a towering stone monstrosity now loomed smaller, but each time it reformed, its speed and power became sharper, more concentrated, as if its very essence had been distilled into a purer, deadlier form.


    They now faced the Gargoyle on a battlefield of broken stone and scattered rubble, remnants of the countless battles that had taken place here. The body of a non-gifted recruit, crushed beneath a boulder, was a grim reminder of how lethal this enemy had become. Tension hung in the air as the surviving recruits stood ready. The apostles, Nando, Gato, Edmund, and a few other recruits, stood on edge, battle-weary but determined.


    The Gargoyle was still intimidating, even in its shrunken form. Its stone body gleamed, no longer cracked and crumbling, but sleek, reinforced with glowing veins of energy that pulsed through its core. Its wings, once massive, had shrunk but were more agile, allowing it to glide swiftly across the field. Its eyes, glowing red with malice, watched them, calculating.


    Greenthumb was the first to strike. His hands glowed with a green aura as he called forth vines from the earth, wrapping them tightly around the Gargoyle. The thick vines coiled around its limbs, straining as they attempted to bind it. For a moment, it seemed as if they would succeed.


    But the Gargoyle screeched¡ªa deafening, unnatural sound that reverberated across the battlefield. The power of its roar shattered the vines with ease, the energy pulsing from its core in a shockwave that sent debris flying. Greenthumb cursed under his breath, his hands glowing brighter as he summoned more plants to ensnare the beast.


    Nando, his veins pulsing with dark energy, readied himself. His skin rippled as black tendrils emerged, twisting and forming into four muscular, shadowy arms behind him. He looked almost monstrous, his six black fists glowing with dark power. The Gargoyle, undeterred by Greenthumb¡¯s attempts, charged at him with terrifying speed.


    "Alright," Nando muttered, lowering his stance. "Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got."


    The clash was ferocious. The Gargoyle¡¯s stone fists collided with Nando¡¯s dark tendrils, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Nando held his ground, but the sheer force of the Gargoyle¡¯s blows sent tremors through his body. Each strike was devastating, and though smaller, the Gargoyle¡¯s power was frighteningly focused. Nando gritted his teeth, pushing back with all his might, but the creature was relentless, its movements almost impossibly fast.


    Edmund lashed out with his flame whip, its fiery crack slicing through the air with precision as the Terror was distracted by Nando. Each strike landed on the Terror¡¯s stone form, leaving scorched marks in its wake, but the blows only seemed to sear its surface without penetrating deeper. The Gargoyle hissed, barely flinching under the burning lashes. Edmund¡¯s frustration mounted as he swung harder, the crackling flames intensifying, yet still not enough to slow the creature down as it ent powerful trikes toward Nando. His whip danced through the air with deadly grace, but the Terror seemed almost impervious to its fiery strikes.


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    On the other side of the field, Salamance¡¯s patience snapped. His red-scaled arms gleamed under the sunlight, his draconic nature fully awakened as he let out a furious roar. His muscles bulged, and his claws, sharp and deadly, glinted in the light as he rushed forward to join the fray.


    "I¡¯ve had enough of this thing!" Salamance bellowed, his voice echoing with draconic fury.


    He launched himself at the Gargoyle, his claws tearing through the stone with raw, brutal force. Chunks of the Gargoyle¡¯s body flew off with each slash, but it didn¡¯t go down easily. The beast screeched again, its stone body crumbling more violently this time as Salamance¡¯s claws carved deeper. But even as it began to fall apart, the Gargoyle¡¯s eyes blazed with even fiercer intensity.


    Greenthumb saw his chance. Vines surged from the ground once more, wrapping around the disintegrating remains of the terror. He poured everything he had into containing it, tightening the vines until the Gargoyle was nearly immobilized. For a moment, it seemed like they had won.


    But then, from the rubble, a single fragment¡ªa chunk of stone no larger than a fist¡ªbroke free. It pulsed with energy as it shot into the air like a bullet, propelled by some unseen force. Gato, quick as always, fired a flurry of razor-sharp feathers, but the fragment was too fast, disappearing into the sky before anyone could stop it.


    "Again!" Salamance roared in frustration, slamming his fist into the ground, leaving a deep crater beneath his claws. "How many more times is this thing going to escape?"


    Nando wiped the sweat from his brow, his tendrils slowly retracting into his skin. The fight had taken its toll, and his arms trembled from the strain. "Looks like it¡¯s getting smaller, but stronger," he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Next time, it¡¯s going to be even worse."


    Greenthumb, still holding onto the remnants of his vines, let out a heavy sigh. "We¡¯ll keep chasing it down until there¡¯s nothing left. It has to wear down eventually¡­ right?"


    But no one was convinced. The Gargoyle had become more dangerous with every encounter, and the toll it had taken on their team was beginning to show. Two non-gifted recruits had already been lost, their bodies buried beneath the debris of past battles, and the rest of the team was nearing their breaking point.


    Standing off to the side, Edmund flicked his flame whip into the air, the weapon crackling with fire. His face was grim, his eyes locked on the sky where the Gargoyle fragment had vanished. "Next time, we don¡¯t let it get away," he said, his voice low and dangerous. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the whip ignited fully, burning with a fierce intensity. "I¡¯ll burn it until there¡¯s nothing left to reform."


    Nando exchanged a glance with Gato, both of them worn out from the relentless pursuit but still resolute. "We¡¯re ending this," Nando said, his voice calm but determined. "Next time, we finish the job."


    With that, the team gathered what little strength they had left, preparing themselves for what would likely be their final confrontation with the ever-evolving Gargoyle terror. It had become more than just a battle for survival¡ªit was now a fight to end a terror that had haunted them for months, once and for all.

 Chapter 78: Confronting the Elder

    Chapter 78: Confronting the Elder


    The night air was thick with tension as Abel and Gravedigger made their way through the quiet village streets. Shadows danced along the walls of the cottages, the faint sounds of villagers sleeping or murmuring to themselves within. Each step felt like a risk, each creak of the wooden pathway like a signal for discovery. The village, once a serene place, now felt suffocating, its cheerful facade masking something sinister.


    Gravedigger''s voice was barely a whisper. "Stay close. We can¡¯t afford to be seen. If they realize what we''re doing, everything could unravel."


    Abel nodded, his senses heightened by the strange magic that lingered in the air. He kept glancing at the sky, where the stars were hidden behind a veil of mist. He felt disconnected from them, but there was still a faint pull, guiding him, keeping him steady. Tonight, everything felt wrong. The joy in the village was too forced, too fake.


    Gravedigger summoned the bones of a rat from his pouch, letting it skitter ahead as a scout. The tiny creature vanished into the shadows, its bony frame clattering softly on the cobblestones. Abel watched as it disappeared around the corner, their only assurance that the path ahead was safe.


    As they moved deeper into the village, every creak of a door or the sudden flutter of a curtain felt like an impending threat. Abel''s pulse quickened. The villagers were all under the spell of the nectar, but what if they woke? What if they realized what was happening? His mind buzzed with worry, but he forced himself to focus.


    "We''re almost there," Abel whispered.


    The garden loomed ahead, its fence silhouetted against the moonlight. Abel led the way, retracing the path he¡¯d walked with the village elder before. The garden was strangely beautiful, with tall, wild plants twisting upward, their petals glowing faintly. At the center was the plant¡ªthe source of the nectar. Even now, without the drink clouding his thoughts, Abel couldn¡¯t deny the plant¡¯s allure. It was mesmerizing.


    Gravedigger moved to the side, hiding in the shadows just in time. Footsteps approached¡ªslow, deliberate. Abel tensed, trying to act naturally as the village elder appeared. His eyes glowed faintly in the dark, a predatory gleam to them.


    "Abel," the elder said, his voice soft but sharp. "What are you doing here? Shouldn¡¯t you be preparing for the next ritual?"


    Abel forced a smile, playing along. ¡°I... I had to see the plant again. I can¡¯t stop thinking about it. It¡¯s beautiful.¡±


    The elder¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Is it, now? Or have you forgotten your place?" His voice was laced with suspicion. "Do you really want to betray your God?"


    Abel''s heart pounded in his chest. His mind scrambled for a response, but before he could think of something, the elder took a step closer, eyes gleaming with a piece of dark knowledge. "Do you truly wish to go against the will of my God? If you want to prove your devotion, become the sacrifice of The Night Sage of Forgotten Growth." he hissed, his tone shifting from friendly to menacing.


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    For a moment, Abel''s vision blurred, a sharp pain shooting through his mind as if the elder''s words carried some dark power. Even Gravedigger on the side experienced intense head pain as the name sounded out. It was as though the very mention of the god¡¯s name was designed to break his will. But instead of succumbing, Abel focused on the stars above. He remembered their guiding light, the way they had broken through the illusion. Slowly, clarity returned. He steeled himself, ignoring the elder¡¯s dark stare.


    "You¡¯re making a mistake," the elder whispered, his voice full of venom. "My god will return, and when he does, no one will stand in his way. Not you. Not anyone."


    Abel took a step back, his hand instinctively going for his dagger. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your god,¡± he spat, ¡°or his return.¡±


    With a roar, the elder lashed out, summoning dark tendrils of vine magic, aiming directly for Abel. Abel jumped back, his advanced agility helping him evade the initial strikes, but the elder was relentless. A vine caught him across the chest, knocking him to the ground. He gasped, the wind knocked out of him, but before the elder could strike again, Gravedigger emerged from the shadows, his bone spear ready.


    ¡°Sneaking around, boy?¡± the elder sneered, summoning more vines from the earth.


    Gravedigger didn¡¯t respond. He simply charged, summoning two skeletal warriors to his side. The garden erupted into chaos as the elder fought back with terrifying force. Vines lashed out, wrapping around the skeletons, crushing them with ease. Gravedigger thrust his spear forward, striking at the elder, but the man dodged with surprising speed. Abel could see the fury in Gravedigger¡¯s eyes¡ªthe apostle wasn¡¯t used to being pushed back.


    ¡°Your god, our god ruled this world once,¡± the elder sneered, deflecting the bone spear with a swipe of his hand. ¡°He had millions of followers before he was betrayed. Expelled! But soon... soon he will rise again.¡±


    Gravedigger gritted his teeth, summoning more bones to form a barrier between him and the elder¡¯s onslaught. Abel, still dazed from the attack, pushed himself to his feet. His fingers glowed faintly as he summoned his connection to the stars, feeling their pull grow stronger. The lights that left his fingers began to around the garden almost in a planned formation. With a wave of his hand, the gravity in the garden shifted, causing the elder to stumble slightly.


    Gravedigger took the opportunity and lunged, his spear cutting through the air, but the elder wasn¡¯t finished yet. His body twisted and contorted, his face splitting open as eyes sprouted across his head. A massive mouth opened on his torso, lined with jagged teeth. The abomination roared, shaking the very ground beneath them.


    Abel and Gravedigger fought with everything they had, but the elder was stronger than they expected. Vines and bones clashed as Abel used his gravitational abilities and some of the star beams he had learned to distort the battlefield and frustrate the abomination, while Gravedigger summoned more skeletons to join the fray. But it wasn''t enough, as both members of the tower were blasted away, as they coughed and gasped for air. This new transformation from the Elder made him quite powerful.


    Then, without warning, the ground trembled, a low rumbling sound coming from the direction of the lake. The elder paused, his grotesque form twitching. "No..." he muttered, his voice distorted and terrifying.


    Without hesitation, the elder scooped up the plant, cradling it in his vine-covered arms. "It¡¯s not time yet! I need more time, this ritual cannot be disturbed!" he screeched, his voice full of desperation. The abomination bolted from the garden, rushing toward the lake with frightening speed.


    Abel, still reeling, forced himself to stand. He couldn¡¯t let the elder escape. Gravedigger, bruised and battered, picked himself up from the debris and followed closely behind.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Abel muttered, his eyes wide with confusion.


    Gravedigger¡¯s expression was grim as they ran. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said, ¡°but we have to stop it.¡±

 Chapter 79: Lake Spirit

    Chapter 79: Lake Spirit


    Ronald floated on the lake, his body relaxed, his face serene as if lost in deep contemplation. The whispers, which once haunted the waters, were silent now. He had prepared for this moment, the ancient ritual that would fuse the lake¡¯s essence with his water affinity, drawing him closer to creating his mana pool. He didn¡¯t care how the gifted recruits viewed his unconventional methods anymore¡ªthis was his path, and he was determined to follow it.


    Drifting gently on his back, Ronald murmured the words of the ancient incantation, each syllable slipping from his lips like water. His body moved with the lake, a part of it, as the stars above twinkled faintly through the light mist that hung over the water. The process was slow, deliberate, and the water surrounding him seemed to respond to his words. He remembered the doubts from before, how Edmund and Tina had refused to support him in this path, but it no longer mattered. He was alone, yet resolute.


    As his chant came to an end, a strange silence fell over the lake, even the usual whispers from the spirits below ceased. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, without warning, Ronald felt a sudden force seize him, pulling him downward beneath the surface of the water. He didn¡¯t fight it¡ªthis was what he had prepared for. His body submerged into the cold, dark depths, still facing the sky, his expression calm.


    Beneath the water, ghostly forms swirled around him¡ªspirits of the lake, perhaps the souls of those who had lost their lives here. They danced around him in a chaotic spiral, their ghostly faces and forms moving like tendrils of mist. Despite their frantic energy, Ronald remained calm, focused on the process. He had known that this lake was not ordinary, but he hadn¡¯t known exactly what it would hold. Now he was at its mercy.


    Before him, the water rippled unnaturally, and he watched as a sphere of glowing, greenish-blue energy began to form. It materialized out of nothingness, drawing the very essence of the lake into a single, pulsating point. The spirits howled silently as they spun faster, almost as if caught in the orbit of this mystical energy. Ronald felt the water around him tremble with a sense of anticipation.


    The orb grew larger, brighter, its color shifting from a deep, ominous blue to a vivid green. The water was being drawn into it, consumed, until the lake itself seemed to shrink before Ronald¡¯s eyes. The orb hovered just in front of him, and with a final pulse, it shot forward and buried itself in his chest.


    Ronald gasped as the energy surged into him, his entire body glowing for a brief moment. The water spirits spiraled away, disappearing into the depths of the lake as Ronald''s eyes burned with the greenish glow of the orb. And then it was over. The orb had become a part of him, the lake and its spirit was now within him.


    He swam to the surface, emerging slowly from the water. As he floated there, he could feel the lake itself inside him, like a second heartbeat. He had succeeded¡ªthe lake was now his domain. Testing his new power, Ronald summoned a glowing sphere of ghastly water, its surface rippling with faces and voices, all bound to his will. With a simple thought, he caused the sphere to expand, and as it grew, the lake itself began to drain into it, collapsing into the sphere until nothing remained but the dry lakebed beneath him.


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    He stood atop the barren ground, water swirling around him in small orbs, feeling the surge of power within him. He had done it¡ªhe had taken the lake into himself, and with time, he would master this new ability.


    Before Ronald could fully bask in his brief victory, the ground trembled violently. From the edge of the lake, a grotesque figure emerged¡ªan abomination, its body writhing with eyes, twisted vines, and tendrils, all while gripping the mesmerizing plant from the village garden.


    Ronald¡¯s eyes widened as the creature lumbered forward, each of its heavy steps rattling the illusory world around them.


    "You... you stole my lake! Those souls were mine! I will not let you claim what I worked for!" it screeched, its voice a blend of gurgles and snarls. The abomination''s many eyes fixated on Ronald, a venomous hatred burning in each of them. "You will die for this!"


    With a guttural roar, the abomination reached for a massive boulder, one so large it seemed impossible for anything to lift. Effortlessly, it hurled the stone toward Ronald, aiming to crush him where the lake once stood.


    In response, Ronald¡¯s eyes flashed with steely resolve. A ripple of energy coursed through him, and from the depths of his core, ghastly water began to materialize. The air around him shimmered with eerie green light as a sphere of translucent liquid formed, surrounding him in a protective bubble. The moment the boulder neared, the water surged outwards, transforming into a colossal hand. With a deafening slap, the watery limb batted the boulder aside, sending it crashing into the distance.


    But Ronald wasn¡¯t finished. With a sharp motion, the water twisted again, forming a sturdy platform¡ªa palm beneath his feet. He leaped onto it, elevated above the battlefield, his calculating eyes locked onto the abomination. Every detail of the creature''s grotesque form pulsed in his vision. He stood tall, balancing on the shimmering water, as his mind raced through the possibilities.


    The creature, enraged by Ronald¡¯s calm defiance, let out another ear-splitting roar. Its form shifted, vines sprouting from its body, lashing wildly around. The illusory world began to warp and shift, but Ronald remained steady. His mind worked quickly, analyzing every move the abomination made. He knew he had to end this, and he had to do it soon.


    "Let¡¯s see who really owns this lake," Ronald muttered, his voice low but filled with determination. His power surged as he prepared for the abomination¡¯s next attack, his every movement calculated and precise.


    Ronald internally tensed, unsure if he could take on such a creature alone, especially after his ritual, which he hadn''t had time to digest yet. But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Abel and Gravedigger were approaching, weapons drawn, their expressions serious. Ronald¡¯s heart sank. He now had to take these zealots into consideration as they might implicate things.


    Gravedigger spoke first, his voice urgent but firm. ¡°Be careful, Ronald. That thing¡¯s more dangerous than it looks.¡±


    Relief washed over Ronald as he realized Abel and Gravedigger were not under the illusion either. They were here to fight alongside him. As the abomination growled and charged, the three of them prepared for battle. Ronald¡¯s hands glowed as he summoned his new power, ready to test the limits of his newfound abilities.


    The battle had begun.

 Chapter 80: Ethereal Reckoning

    Chapter 80: Ethereal Reckoning


    The night was still, eerie as if the village itself was holding its breath. The tension in the air thickened as Abel, Gravedigger, and Ronald stood ready. They faced the grotesque abomination on the dried lake bed¡ªits form twisted with vines, stone, and eyes. Its body radiated a sinister energy, and a chilling hiss escaped its tooth-filled torso, sending shivers through them.


    Abel¡¯s hands tingled as his connection to the stars hummed, but fear gripped him. This creature was different from anything they¡¯d faced so far.


    Without warning, the abomination lunged at Ronald, its massive form moving faster than expected. Ronald reacted instinctively, summoning his newly acquired powers. Ghastly water, dark and thick, materialized in front of him, swirling and forming into a giant spectral fist. He sent it crashing into the abomination¡¯s chest, but the creature only staggered, shaking off the attack with a sickening snarl. It seemed glad that the marvelous plant on its viney hand was safe.


    "It''s strong," Ronald grunted, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Too strong."


    The abomination roared in defiance, charging again. This time, Abel focused. He called upon the stars, his fingers glowing with that familiar celestial light. With a flick of his wrist, he manipulated the gravity around the abomination, pulling it to the ground. Abel pushed himself to the limit, calling upon all of the starlight he had devoured and accumulated in the past, even the star above seemed to assist him quietly. The creature slowed, its movements becoming obviously sluggish, yet its fury did not wane. It let out a guttural, haunting cry that seemed to echo through the village shaking the world, turning the surrounding environment darker than before.


    Gravedigger stepped forward, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Time to end this." He raised his hand to the femur bone strapped to his back. "Show your true form," he commanded.


    The bone flew from his back, rising into the air as if carried by an unseen force. A brilliant light enveloped it, and the air crackled with power. Abel and Ronald watched in awe, their eyes wide with disbelief as the bone transformed before them. It grew larger, heavier, reshaping itself until a massive skeletal T-rex stood before them, its hollow eyes glowing with a fiery red light. The ground trembled beneath its weight. The ancient aura it exuded almost brought everyone in time.


    "By the stars¡­" Abel whispered, unable to tear his eyes away. "This¡­ this is the power of an Apostle?"


    Ronald stood frozen for a moment, his glasses reflecting the immense skeletal beast. "I didn¡¯t think it was possible," he muttered. "This level of power..."


    Gravedigger smirked, his expression hard and focused. "Watch closely¡ªthis is what you should aim for."


    The skeletal dinosaur roared, a sound that reverberated through the air like thunder. The abomination screeched back, but it was no match for the sheer size and power of Gravedigger¡¯s creation. With a thunderous crash, the T-rex lunged forward, its skeletal jaws clamping down on the abomination¡¯s arm, tearing through vines and stone with brutal efficiency.


    The abomination fought back, slamming its massive claws into the side of the T-rex. However, it movement was much more predictable as the stars bore down on it with their gravitational weight. The skeletal beast stumbled slightly from the strike but did not fall. It countered with another vicious bite, snapping off a chunk of the abomination''s torso. The battle was fierce, each blow shaking the ground, sending shards of stone and debris flying through the air.


    Abel could feel the weight of the stars pressing down on him as well. His heart raced, and his hands trembled, but there was also a deep, burning desire within him. This¡ªthis raw power¡ªwas what he wanted. He could see his path now, clearer than ever.


    The fight raged on. Gravedigger, controlling the T-rex with masterful precision, sent the skeletal beast crashing into the abomination again and again. But the abomination, desperate and enraged, began to change. Its body twisted and contorted, eyes multiplying across its form glowing in a vile red light, its mouth stretching grotesquely. With a final, deafening roar, the abomination tore through the air, smashing through the T-rex¡¯s ribcage with its grotesque arms.


    Abel pulled a star away from putting gravity weight onto the abomination making it hover far from the cluster, as it began to spin. It spun faster and faster, and it didn''t top. The star spun so fast that it looked ethereal as it began to absorb the starlight from the sky of the illusory world. The starlight surrounding the star thumping with intense pressure whenever a chunk of starlight fed into it.


    ¡°Ronald, can you restrain it with your water?¡± Abel asked


    Ronald nodded materializing ghastly water again, creating chains that began to wrap around the abomination''s legs. His control of the water was incredible leaving both Abel and Gradevidder impressed. The slight screeches of spirits within the water echoed, and it really restrained the abomination for a brief moment. Despite the chains, the abomination proceeded with the assault, as it began to make strange dark melodic sound from the void that was its mouth.


    The skeletal beast stumbled, its bones cracking and breaking apart under the abomination¡¯s relentless assault. Gravedigger grimaced, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he struggled to maintain control. "It¡¯s calling to its god¡­" he muttered. "We need to end this¡ªnow."


    The abomination''s eyes locked onto Abel. With a swift movement, it tried to lunge for him, its massive claw raised to strike. The chain broke with a boom! As Ronald staggered coughing blood. The Abomination ran with killing intent. But before it could land the blow, Abel¡¯s hands shot up instinctively. His connection to the stars surged, and a gravitational force unlike anything he had ever felt surrounded the abomination, pulling it to the ground with crushing intensity. The creature screeched in pain, struggling against the weight.


    ¡°Agh!¡± Abel made a sound as he placed all of his efforts into this one little star which had accumulated so much star power at this point it was ready to cause destruction, and destruction it did as a huge powerful beam of starlight shot down with a speed that no one could react to.


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    Zong!


    BOOM!


    The beam sliced through the abomination as it hit the soil carving the ground and charring it as it cut the abomination almost in half, while one half was still connected to him, the other half of the abomination¡¯s torso was flapping by its side, dripping disgusting liquid on the ground. The abomination still held the plant as it cried in pain, its mouth now half of what it used to be.


    Gravedigger seized the moment. "Enough!" he shouted, his voice full of power. He leaped into the air, calling the T-rex¡¯s remaining bones to his side. The femur reformed into his massive bone spear, glowing with an ominous light. With a final, powerful strike, Gravedigger plunged the spear deep into the abomination¡¯s remaining chest.


    The abomination¡¯s final, guttural scream echoed through the village, shaking the ground beneath them. Its monstrous body convulsed, crumbling into dust as its grotesque form collapsed. All that remained was the plant¡ªbeautiful and radiant, standing amidst the devastation like a serene, ethereal figure, shimmering under the moonlight. The silence that followed the abomination¡¯s death was deafening, an unsettling calm that only deepened the eeriness of the scene.


    Abel and Ronald stared at the plant, mesmerized by its beauty. Its glow intensified, and the plant began to expand, transforming into a towering, ghostly figure with a radiant aura. It was otherworldly¡ªits leaves flowing like silk in an unseen breeze, its petals shimmering with a strange, captivating light. Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel the allure tugging at his senses once more, the same allure that had nearly trapped him before.


    The plant¡¯s voice echoed through the night, vibrating with a haunting, melodic tone. "If you destroy me," it began, its voice rich and layered, as if a thousand whispers spoke in unison, "all the souls trapped here will perish. I am their salvation. I am all that keeps them from eternal suffering. And once I return I shall bring salvation to all of you as well."


    The voice was chilling, yet persuasive, as though it wasn¡¯t merely speaking¡ªit was promising. Abel felt his resolve waver slightly, but then he glanced at Ronald.


    Ronald¡¯s sharp eyes, enhanced by his magical glasses, cut through the plant¡¯s ethereal glow. He shook his head, his voice cold and unwavering. "You¡¯re lying. These people are already dead, and you¡¯ve trapped them in endless torment. I can see them for what they are¡ªsuffering, enslaved souls. This world is an illusion, and you¡¯re just feeding off their misery."


    The plant hesitated, its glow flickering for a moment, revealing cracks in its facade. It seemed uncertain for the first time, as if Ronald¡¯s words had struck a chord.


    "You seek power, do you not?" the plant said, its voice changing to a more seductive, enticing tone. "I can give you more power than you can imagine. Let me live, and I will make you gods among men. All the strength, all the influence you could ever desire¡­ just spare me."


    For a split second, Abel felt the weight of those words settle over him. Power. The promise of unlimited potential. But then he remembered the illusion¡ªthe twisted, nightmarish mental world they had just escaped, the suffering of the souls trapped by the plant¡¯s magic. This was no gift; it was a prison, and the plant was the warden.


    Gravedigger, standing tall with his bone spear still glowing faintly, stepped forward. His expression was one of cold, unyielding determination. "I¡¯m not interested in your bargains," he growled, his voice low and threatening. "We¡¯ve had enough of your tricks."


    Without waiting for another word, Gravedigger leaped into the air, his spear glowing with an ominous, bone-chilling light. Abel and Ronald watched in awe as Gravedigger, with the precision of a battle-hardened Apostle, drove the bone spear deep into the heart of the ethereal plant.


    The plant let out a final, desperate cry,¡± This is simply one of my manifestations in this world. You will pay!¡± its shimmering light fading rapidly as its body began to disintegrate into dust, just like the abomination before it. The once beautiful plant crumbled into nothingness, leaving only a lingering sense of dread in the air.


    Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The village itself seemed to shudder violently, the fabric of reality ripping apart as a massive crack appeared in the sky above. The world¡ªthis false, illusory world¡ªwas collapsing.


    "Reality¡¯s breaking," Abel whispered, eyes wide as the crack in the sky grew larger, tendrils of light and shadow swirling around it.


    Gravedigger¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. "We need to move¡ªnow!" he barked, urgency in his tone. "This world is falling apart. We need to find the others and get out of here before it takes us down with it."


    Abel nodded quickly. "I¡¯ll get Tina and Jane!" he said, already sprinting towards where he had last seen them.


    The ground shook violently as Abel raced through the crumbling village. Houses collapsed in on themselves, fading into dust as the illusion shattered piece by piece. The vibrant, colorful world that had seemed so perfect was now disintegrating, revealing the hollow, lifeless shell it had always been.


    Abel found Tina and Jane, still dazed and confused, struggling to comprehend the collapse. He grabbed them both by the arms. "No time to explain! We have to leave¡ªnow!" he shouted.


    They didn¡¯t argue. They ran with him, dodging falling debris and broken structures as the village tore itself apart.


    As they reached the gathering point, Abel paused allowing Tina and Jane to head towards the others. Abel turned his gaze to the sky one last time. The stars¡ªthose beautiful, eternal stars that had guided him, and helped him¡ªwere still there, twinkling faintly amidst the chaos. Even in this crumbling illusion, they shone brightly. Almost as if they were trapped here along with all of the other fakeness.


    Abel raised his arms toward them, his heart swelling with a deep, unshakable connection. "I won¡¯t let you fade away, You might be from this fake world, but you are not fake to me¡­" he whispered, his voice filled with determination.


    The stars above him began to move, dancing once more in that mesmerizing, celestial pattern that had spoken to him so many times before. But this time, they descended toward him, forming a single, brilliant orb of light that hovered above his head. Abel reached out, fingers glowing, and with a deep sense of purpose, he consumed the star.


    His body shone with radiant light, his skin glowing as the celestial energy settled within him. The warmth of the stars filled his soul, and for a moment, he felt as though the entire universe was within his grasp. As the light faded, an imprint formed on his forehead¡ªan eye, with an iris shaped like a perfect star.


    He gazed up at the now-fading sky, feeling a deep, profound connection to the stars that transcended the boundaries of reality.


    The world around them continued to crumble, Gravedigger who was helping others into a crack in reality took a pause to look at the scene in front of him. He has been through a lot, but this was a first for him. As Abel¡¯s ritual concluded Gravedigger called out, "Time¡¯s running out, Abel! We have to go!"


    Abel nodded, his heart racing as he rejoined the group. Together, they stepped through the crack in reality, leaving the collapsing illusion behind and returning to the cold, dark ruins of the real world. They were sent to a dark spacious room inside of the ruins, which seemed to have no dangers around. No one spoke as they made their way back to the cathedral, each of them lost in their thoughts, knowing that what lay ahead was even more dangerous than the illusion they had just escaped.


    Abel glanced at his reflection in a shard of broken glass, touching the star-shaped eye insignia on his forehead. His connection to the stars had deepened, and he knew this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 81: Rest and Resolve

    Chapter 81: Rest and Resolve


    Inside the cathedral, the recruits gathered, bodies weary from their ordeal, grateful to be alive. The cathedral¡¯s vast stone walls, dimly lit by flickering torches, echoed with an eerie silence that amplified their exhaustion. The heavy, cold air made each breath feel labored, a reminder of how far they had come. Outside, the wind howled faintly, carrying with it the unnatural quiet of the ruins beyond.


    The recruits were slumped in their seats, their faces pale and drawn, shadows of the vitality they once had. The arched windows of the cathedral let in slivers of moonlight, casting long, distorted shadows across the stone floor. Dust hovered in the air, illuminated by the thin beams of light, giving the room an otherworldly, almost haunted atmosphere. Despite the towering majesty of the cathedral, the room felt claustrophobic, the weight of their experiences pressing down on them.


    Gravedigger stood at the front, his massive form silhouetted against the faint glow of the altar behind him. He looked at the recruits, pride evident in his otherwise stoic gaze. His voice, low and steady, echoed through the hall. "You¡¯ve all proven yourselves," he began, his words a balm to the tense silence. "Each of you has faced dangers that could have easily taken your lives. But you survived. And more than that, you grew."


    His eyes landed on Ronald, whose aura had changed dramatically. Ronald sat quietly, his glasses catching the light, but there was a new intensity about him. His water affinity, once gentle, now carried a ghastly, eerie undertone, like a silent lake hiding dark secrets beneath its surface.


    "Ronald," Gravedigger said, his voice reverberating through the room. "What you gained in that illusion... it¡¯s clear that this path was meant for you. This water affinity is no longer simple. It carries an edge, something more. You¡¯ve found your way, and it¡¯s stronger for it."


    Ronald, calm yet inwardly changed, nodded in acknowledgment. "Although I had interest in this path before, it¡¯s not the path I expected to take," he admitted, his voice soft but steady, "but it¡¯s one I¡¯m committed to now. My power, it¡¯s different. And I¡¯m ready to see where it takes me."


    The room was quiet again, the weight of Ronald¡¯s transformation felt by all. Tina, sitting at the edge of the group, glanced at Abel and Ronald with a mix of guilt and respect. Her prejudices toward the non-gifted recruits had begun to crumble, piece by piece. She had witnessed their strength firsthand, and now, sitting in the eerie silence of the cathedral, she couldn''t deny their value. She also was beginning to understand why Ronald focused on such a nongifted path.


    Gravedigger continued, turning his gaze to the group as a whole. "All of you have shown potential to become apostles. What you¡¯ve endured, what you¡¯ve overcome, has placed you on that path." His tone was grave, yet hopeful. He pulled out a small rectangular badge, its surface the color of stone, resembling the Tower itself, with a dragon¡¯s head carved into the center.


    "This," he said, holding it up so they could all see, "is the badge of an apostle. It marks you as a member of the Tower, but it is more than just a symbol. It allows us to communicate with the Tower itself. It has other uses as well, though you¡¯ll learn those in time."


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    The recruits watched in silence, the significance of the badge not lost on them. The moonlight flickered across the stone surface of the badge as Gravedigger held it out, his expression serious.


    "I¡¯ve just received confirmation from the Tower," he said, his voice breaking the tension. "We¡¯ve completed our mission. We¡¯ve uncovered the truth. The nomads abandoned their old ways, turning from the stars they once revered to follow a false god. This being used illusionary powers, trapping them in a twisted version of reality, much like what we experienced."


    Abel felt a chill crawl up his spine at the mention of the false god. His connection to the stars had been his only anchor during the illusions, and hearing that the nomads had once shared that same connection but had forsaken it sent a wave of unease through him.


    "But before we depart," Gravedigger added, "I want to ensure we leave nothing behind. A final sweep of the ruins is necessary¡ªto gather anything of value and ensure no dangers remain."


    The recruits nodded in agreement, though the exhaustion in their eyes was clear. Gravedigger¡¯s presence was a grounding force, but even he knew they needed rest.


    "We¡¯ll rest for now," Gravedigger said, his voice softening slightly. "You¡¯ve earned it."


    As the recruits began to settle in for the night, the cathedral¡¯s heavy silence grew even more pronounced. The air was thick with the weight of their shared experiences, the tension between them slowly giving way to something resembling camaraderie. The flickering torchlight created deep shadows in the cathedral¡¯s corners, making the room feel both vast and confined, as though the stone walls themselves were pressing in on them.


    Abel found a quiet spot near one of the windows, his body aching from the ordeal they had endured. The stars outside were barely visible through the high, arched windows, but he could feel their presence. The hunger that had gnawed at him was gone, but a new, deeper understanding had taken its place. He was connected to something far greater than he had ever imagined.


    As he lay back on the cold stone floor, his eyes grew heavy. Outside, the wind howled softly, a reminder of the eerie, desolate ruins that lay just beyond the cathedral¡¯s walls. The silence was almost oppressive, but within it, there was a sense of peace¡ªhowever fleeting it might be.


    Ronald, sitting by one of the darkened alcoves, stared into the distance. The lake spirit¡¯s power pulsed faintly within him, like the steady beat of a drum. He would need time to understand it, to harness it fully, but he felt more grounded than ever. His path was clear.


    Tina, lying nearby, stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. The weight of her previous prejudices against the non-gifted recruits now felt like a burden she could no longer carry. She couldn¡¯t deny the truth anymore¡ªthey had saved her life. And now, as the cathedral¡¯s eerie silence wrapped around them all, she realized how wrong she had been.


    Gravedigger remained by the altar, his eyes scanning the room one last time. The recruits were tired¡ªexhausted even¡ªbut they had proven themselves. He could see it in their faces, in the way they carried themselves. They were no longer just recruits. They were survivors, warriors in their own right, and perhaps, one day, apostles.


    As the night deepened, the cathedral¡¯s silence grew heavy, but it was a restful silence, the kind that followed the end of a long battle. For the first time in months, the recruits allowed themselves to rest, knowing that while their journey was far from over, they had made it through the worst.


    For now, at least.

 Chapter 82: Down it Crumbles

    Chapter 82: Down it Crumbles


    The battlefield where Nando and his expedition group were battling the gargoyle was littered with jagged stones and dust, remnants of countless skirmishes. The group had pursued the gargoyle for nearly five months, enduring the loss of several non-gifted recruits. Each battle chipped away at the gargoyle¡¯s form, but somehow, the creature had grown stronger. Now, it was no larger than a child, but its speed was unmatched, darting through the air like a dark shadow of death.


    It flew low over the field, barely avoiding the sharp vines Greenthumb had summoned from the earth. The air felt thick, charged with tension as the gargoyle dodged every attack with effortless grace. Gato, with his feathers ruffling in the wind, shot volleys of sharp plumes from a distance, but the gargoyle twisted and turned, avoiding each one as though it could see them coming long before they were fired.


    "Keep up the pressure!" Salamander growled, his voice gravelly, draconic red scales shimmering as his full transformation took hold. His muscles bulged beneath his robes, his long tail swishing through the dust. The gargoyle swooped low, and Salamander met it head-on, his claws colliding with the creature in a flurry of strikes. Their battle was fierce, the sound of stone against scales reverberating through the field like thunder.


    As Salamander grappled with the gargoyle, Greenthumb sent a fresh wave of thick, twisted vines shooting up from the earth. The vines coiled around the gargoyle¡¯s wings and legs, pulling it down with a thunderous crash. For a fleeting moment, the team felt the hope of victory.


    ¡°It¡¯s over!¡± Gato shouted, his breath ragged as he hovered above, his legs trembling with exhaustion. His words, however, rang hollow.


    The gargoyle¡¯s body trembled, its glowing red eyes burning with fury. A surge of violent energy rippled through it, and with a terrifying roar, it shattered the vines that bound it. Before anyone could react, it took off toward Gato like a streak of stone fury.


    ¡°Look out!¡± Nando shouted, his voice tinged with desperation, but the gargoyle was faster than they had anticipated.


    Panic surged through Gato¡¯s veins and from his back feathers burst into life materializing into bluish winges that expanded outwards like a leaf blooming for the first time. Quickly his wings flapped furiously, propelling him higher into the sky. He soared higher, his heart pounding, certain he had outrun the beast. The battlefield below grew smaller, and for a brief, glorious moment, relief flooded through him. He had escaped¡ªhe was free from the gargoyle¡¯s reach.


    The ground fighters below watched in silence, their gazes following Gato as he ascended. The tension in the air began to lift, and for a heartbeat, they allowed themselves to believe it was finally over.


    But the gargoyle had no intention of letting its prey slip away.


    With a deafening screech, the gargoyle¡¯s wings flared, sending it rocketing into the sky at a speed that defied its heavy, stone body. Gato turned just in time to see it coming. His eyes widened in horror as the monster bore down on him with unnatural speed.


    ¡°No!¡± Gato screamed, but his cry was drowned out by the roar of the wind and the gargoyle¡¯s approaching wrath.


    In an instant, the gargoyle¡¯s razor-sharp claws, now glowing with an eerie red light, tore through the air and ripped into Gato¡¯s body with savage precision. The sickening sound of flesh being shredded echoed across the battlefield as Gato¡¯s blood sprayed into the sky, streaking it with crimson. His lifeless form plummeted downward, wings crumpled like a broken bird, spiraling toward the earth in a tragic, chaotic dance of death.


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    The battlefield was silent as his body hit the ground, the brutal finality of his fall sinking in.


    ¡°GATO!¡± Nando''s voice cracked with disbelief. The sight sent a wave of shock through the entire group. The one moment of hope had shattered instantly. Grief clung to their chests, but there was no time to mourn.


    Salamander''s rage flared, his eyes burning with fire as he roared and leaped high into the air. His draconic strength seemed to double as he slammed into the gargoyle mid-flight, sending it hurtling toward the ground with a deafening crash. The earth shook with the impact, dust, and rocks exploding outward.


    As the gargoyle tried to recover, vines from Greenthumb wrapped around its ankles, pulling it back down into the dirt, and trapping it. From the side, Edmund appeared atop his fiery stallion, flames licking at the air as he galloped toward the pinned gargoyle. This new addition to his strength was acquired through the pursuit of the gargoyle. Edmund was able to tame a familiar that worked well with his fire affinity, although the stallion seemed young, there was still a chance for growth.


    "Flame Knight, coming through!" Edmund shouted, his voice brimming with newfound confidence. His sword, engulfed in fire, glowed brilliantly as he charged. With a powerful swing, he sliced at the gargoyle, releasing a torrent of flames that engulfed the terror, sending it screeching in agony.


    The air shimmered with heat, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The gargoyle¡¯s wings flapped desperately, trying to escape the vines and flames, but it was too weak. Edmund''s stallion reared back, releasing a fiery neigh as it circled around, leaving the gargoyle charred and barely clinging to life.


    Nando stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he gathered his power. Black tendrils sprouted from his back, forming a dark, pulsating sphere between his six hands. The air grew thick with tension as he released the sphere toward the gargoyle, the disgusting aura oozing through the air.


    The sphere struck the gargoyle dead-on, exploding with a sickening splatter. Black, stringy ooze wrapped around the gargoyle, pinning it to the ground like a grotesque web. The creature struggled, its body shaking as it tried to escape, but it was stuck fast.


    With a jump Salamander took to the skies again, rising high above the battlefield. His muscles bulged, his scales glowing a deep red as he prepared for his final strike. With a mighty roar, he descended, behind him the image of a strange draconic creature with red scales, six legs, and one eye on its ferocious face appeared as his fist slammed into the gargoyle with the force of a falling meteor. The ground cracked beneath the impact, sending shockwaves through the earth as the gargoyle¡¯s body shattered into pieces.


    The ground stilled. Dust settled. The gargoyle¡¯s remains crumbled into nothing more than rubble, a faint red aura dissipating into the air, signaling the end of its existence.


    Nando, Edmund, and Salamander stood in awe of the destruction. Their breathing was ragged, but there was a sense of finality in the air. The terror was gone.


    Nando muttered, still staring at the crater Salamander had left. ¡°That kind of strength... I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±


    "That''s the power of an apostle," Edmund said, his voice filled with admiration as he stroked the mane of his fiery stallion. ¡°One day, I¡¯ll reach that level.¡±


    The exhaustion hit them all at once. The five months of endless battles, losses, and relentless pursuit had come to an end. They stood amidst the wreckage, their hearts heavy with both victory and loss. Gato was gone, his wings now lying lifeless on the battlefield, a stark reminder of the cost they had paid.


    Salamander, his body reverting from its draconic form, stood tall, surveying the aftermath. "We¡¯ve done it," he said quietly, though the weariness in his voice was clear. "It¡¯s finally over."


    Greenthumb nodded, his vines retracting back into the earth. "Let¡¯s head back. We all need to rest."


    The survivors turned, leaving the battlefield behind, their minds numb from the ordeal. They had survived, but the price had been high.

 Chapter 83: The Canopy of Lost Souls

    Chapter 83: The Canopy of Lost Souls


    As the team ventured deeper into the decaying ruins, the oppressive fear that once suffocated them had evaporated, replaced by a haunting, eerie silence. The once-vibrant vines, pulsating with malevolent energy, had now withered to brittle tendrils. Walls, once fortified by the vines, crumbled into dust, their structural integrity gone with the malevolent force that once held the ruin together.


    Abel led the group cautiously, his eyes scanning the darkened corridors. Each step echoed against the ancient stones, reinforcing the desolation that pervaded the air. He felt a strange emptiness here, but there was also something peaceful in this absence of danger.


    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d say this, but it feels almost peaceful now,¡± Jane murmured, glancing around at the now harmless, dead vines. Her earlier wariness seemed to dissipate with every step they took.


    Despite the change in atmosphere, Ronald remained on edge. His body was tense, his eyes darting around with suspicion. ¡°Peaceful or not,¡± he muttered, ¡°We should stay alert.¡±


    The group pressed forward, and as they walked, the architecture became more foreboding. The air felt heavier as though the deeper they ventured, the more they were stepping into a long-forgotten evil. After what felt like hours of walking, they finally reached the heart of the ruins¡ªa massive chamber that exuded an aura of malevolent history.


    The sight before them was awe-inspiring and terrifying.


    In the center of the room stood a towering ancient tree. Its gnarled, twisted trunk reached up into the darkness above, its branches stretching like skeletal arms into the unseen abyss. The bark was long dried out, cracked, and withered, but its presence was overwhelming¡ªlike a monument to some forgotten atrocity.


    ¡°This¡­ this must be it,¡± Gravedigger murmured. His tone was grave as he cautiously approached the ancient tree. ¡°The source of the corruption.¡±


    Abel hesitated for a moment, feeling a pull deep within him as though the tree was somehow connected to the vines that had entangled the village. He raised his hand, summoning the ethereal star he had brought from the illusory world. The star appeared beside him, casting its soft glow around the room. Its light was otherworldly¡ªpulsing gently, as though it existed between reality and illusion.


    As the star illuminated the chamber, they realized the true horror of what they had found.


    Hanging from the branches of the colossal tree were mummified bodies¡ªhundreds of them. Human corpses dangled from the skeletal limbs, their heads impaled on the jagged branches. The bodies swayed gently in the unseen breeze, their hollow, lifeless eyes staring out into the void.


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    ¡°Gods¡­¡± Tina whispered, her voice trembling as she gazed up at the grotesque sight. ¡°They¡­ they¡¯re all¡­ people. Nomads.¡±


    Abel¡¯s star pulsed with a brighter light, casting long, twisting shadows across the grim scene. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. ¡°This is what happened to them. The nomads didn¡¯t just disappear. They were consumed.¡±


    Ronald¡¯s eyes darkened as he stared at the bodies. ¡°If we hadn¡¯t escaped the illusion, we would¡¯ve been like them.¡±


    The grim realization washed over the group like cold water. Each of them was lost in thought, processing the horrifying fate of the people who had once lived here.


    Gravedigger, ever stoic, approached the ancient tree, his hand brushing against the brittle bark. ¡°They didn¡¯t abandon the stars willingly,¡± he said, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of the discovery. ¡°They were led here¡­ sacrificed to this thing.¡±


    Jane¡¯s voice was barely audible as she spoke, her eyes locked on the lifeless bodies. ¡°How could they do this? How could they abandon the stars for this nightmare?¡±


    ¡°Desperation,¡± Gravedigger answered, his fingers tracing the ancient grooves in the bark. ¡°Or maybe madness. But this is their fate.¡±


    Abel felt a deep chill run through him as he stared up at the canopy of corpses. His thoughts drifted back to the illusory world they had narrowly escaped. ¡°If we had stayed even a moment longer,¡± he murmured, ¡°we would¡¯ve ended up just like them.¡±


    The weight of that truth hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Tina swallowed hard, her earlier arrogance gone, replaced by a somber humility. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know how to feel,¡± she admitted. ¡°We were fighting for our lives, and now we see what could have happened to us.¡±


    Gravedigger looked up at the tree, his expression unyielding. ¡°This is where it ends. The corruption is gone, but this is a reminder of how far it spread.¡±


    For a moment, there was only silence as they stood in the chamber, staring up at the tree and the ghastly bodies that hung from its limbs. The star beside Abel flickered, its light casting a final glow over the haunting scene before dimming. They all knew it was time to leave.


    ¡°This was their fate,¡± Abel whispered, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°But it won¡¯t be ours.¡±


    The group turned and made their way back toward the exit, the eerie silence of the ruins following them. They had uncovered the truth about the nomads, and now, with the corruption purged, they could finally leave this cursed place behind.


    As they walked through the decaying halls, Gerald and Abu lagged slightly behind, exchanging hushed whispers.


    ¡°You know, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever get the image of those bodies out of my head,¡± Abu muttered, his normally cheerful demeanor subdued. He had always been the optimistic one in the group, but even he couldn¡¯t shake the horror of what they had witnessed.


    Gerald, usually calm and collected, nodded in agreement. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ unsettling,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I keep wondering what would have happened if we hadn¡¯t made it out of that illusion. If we¡¯d ended up like them.¡±


    Abu sighed, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Let¡¯s just be glad we didn¡¯t.¡±


    As they left the ruins behind and emerged into the open air, there was a sense of closure among them. The sky above was clear, and the oppressive weight of the ruins seemed to lift as they stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Abel glanced up at the stars, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.


    There was still so much to learn, so much to understand about the mysteries of the world and his place within it. But for now, they had survived, and that was enough.

 Chapter 84: A Return Amidst New Faces

    Chapter 84: A Return Amidst New Faces


    After the harrowing experience in the illusionary world and the final confrontation, Abel and his group made their way back to the surface. The journey out of the ruins was quieter than before, with the vines decayed and the tension gone. When they reached the surface, they were greeted by the large flying stingray that had previously brought them to the expedition. The smooth and silent journey back to the tower aboard the creature felt surreal compared to the chaos they had faced below, almost like a final cleansing before they returned to their normal lives.


    The stingray glided gracefully through the skies, its massive body casting a shadow over the landscape. Abel and the others, exhausted but relieved, reclined on the soft, pulsating surface of the creature. The wind ruffled their hair as they watched the ground pass below in silence, the vast greenery and rivers winding like ribbons. The entire flight back felt like a blur, but it was peaceful, allowing them to decompress. Even the tension between some of the members seemed to have dissipated after what they had faced together.


    The sky was a gradient of oranges and purples as the sun began to set, painting the horizon in warm hues. Abel found himself staring up at the emerging stars. Despite the exhaustion weighing on his bones, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a deep connection to those faraway lights. It was as if they were calling out to him, urging him toward something greater.


    By the time they arrived at the Stone Tower, dusk had settled. The stingray hovered at the base of the Tower, lowering itself gently as the team descended. Each member of the expedition was quiet, lost in their thoughts as they made their way back inside. The sight of new recruits didn''t surprise the group at all as they were too tired to even pay attention to them. They walked facing forward as the new batch of recruits looked toward them with a light in their eyes,


    Time passed and Abel had done what was needed with Glandel after completing the expedition, he went up to his room to digest all that had occurred. Abel sat in his dimly lit room, the weight of the events still clinging to his thoughts. His fingers traced the window¡¯s ledge, cool to the touch, as his gaze drifted upward into the night sky. The stars blinked down at him, their celestial glow like distant promises. Each pulse of starlight felt like a lifeline, feeding the ethereal star still hovering within him, just out of reach. The star, born of the illusionary world, had become a part of him¡ªsomething not quite real but brimming with potential. Abel could feel its warmth flickering deep inside him, aching to take form in the real world. But for now, he needed time, time to absorb the light of the real stars, to bring this ethereal presence into existence fully.


    The room around him felt distant, as though the stars themselves had wrapped him in a cocoon of quiet. His breathing slowed as the pulse of the stars became more rhythmic, more familiar. The connection was stronger than it had ever been. He was at the edge of something monumental. Abel closed his eyes, focusing entirely on the stars. He would stay like this for hours, days even, if that¡¯s what it took.


    ¡­


    Ronald descended from the third floor, his steps deliberate as he made his way down the grand staircase to the Tower¡¯s first-floor main hall. The cool stone walls echoed with the quiet footsteps of recruits bustling in the distance, unaware of the significant moment about to unfold. As he reached the ground floor, a hush fell over the room as the new batch of recruits sensed something important was about to happen. Ronald stood still, his posture calm but commanding.


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    "Overseer," Ronald called out, his voice steady yet filled with anticipation. The sound reverberated through the hall, silencing any remaining chatter. New recruits, wide-eyed, watched as the Overseer appeared from the shadows, his crimson robe flowing behind him like an apparition.


    "You''re ready, then," the Overseer said, his voice calm yet filled with subtle intensity. He stepped closer, his gaze piercing through Ronald.


    Ronald nodded silently, his confidence clear in every gesture. The ghastly lake within him stirred, a strange energy swirling just beneath the surface. His new power felt vast, cold, and unlike anything the new recruits had seen before. Ronald could feel their awe, their fear, and the growing tension in the room.


    "Show me," the Overseer commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding.


    Without hesitation, Ronald extended his hand, and an eerie transformation took place. Ghastly, spectral water materialized from thin air, swirling upward in slow, deliberate motions until it formed a floating, ghostly lake above him. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as whispers and faint echoes resonated from the water, sending a chill through the air. The recruits, who stood observing in a wide circle, watched in awe, with some taking a cautious step back, clearly unnerved by the ethereal manifestation.


    The lake wasn¡¯t like any ordinary water¡ªits translucent, otherworldly texture shifted and rippled in unnatural ways, almost as if it were alive. It carried a presence within it, something dark, as though it was tethered to memories, perhaps spirits, long trapped within its spectral depths.


    The Overseer stepped closer, his eyes narrowing with intense focus as he studied the intricate details of the manifestation. His gaze traveled along the tendrils of water, the floating particles within it, and the whispers that seemed to linger on the edges of consciousness. Each moment passed with a weight of suspense as he quietly scrutinized Ronald¡¯s creation, his face impassive yet calculating.


    The silence in the room grew thick, the tension palpable. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the Overseer extended his hand toward the ghostly lake. A pulse of controlled mana radiated from his palm, a soft but undeniable force. As it touched the water, the lake shuddered for a split second before calming. The restless whispers quieted, the ethereal turbulence fading into a serene stillness. It was as if the Overseer''s energy had brought order to the chaos within.


    Satisfied, the Overseer finally spoke, his voice low but resonating with authority. "Now," he said, locking eyes with Ronald, "your ascension is complete."


    The words seemed to echo in the room, their weight heavy with significance. Ronald lowered his hand, the lake dissolving slowly into mist, fading into nothingness. The recruits exhaled, many of them unaware they had been holding their breath.


    Ronald, for his part, remained silent, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a subtle nod of acknowledgment at the completion of his trial. His ghastly lake had been accepted¡ªhe had crossed a threshold, stepping into his new role with a sense of newfound power.


    As the Overseer turned to leave, the room remained steeped in quiet, the significance of what had just transpired hanging in the air.


    With a final glance at the awe-struck recruits, Ronald turned and, without a word, moved back toward the stairs leading upward. His power, now fully realized, lingered in the room long after he was gone, a chilling reminder of the path that lay ahead for the rest.

 Chapter 85: Blackheart

    Chapter 85: Blackheart


    The atmosphere on the Tower¡¯s first floor was buzzing with gossip, mostly revolving around two names: Stargazer and Ronald. Two non-gifted recruits stood near the entrance, exchanging whispers as new faces walked by, their curiosity piqued by the legends forming within the Tower.


    "Have you heard about Stargazer?" one recruit said, leaning in closer. "He¡¯s on the verge of becoming an apostle, or so they say. I mean, that connection to the stars... it¡¯s something else entirely. He¡¯s not like us."


    The other recruit nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah, but the real talk is about Ronald. They¡¯ve started calling him ¡®Lake Spirit.¡¯ You should¡¯ve seen his breakthrough¡ªit was terrifying. The whole room felt like it was drowning in his aura. It¡¯s like his power has a life of its own now."


    Before they could continue their hushed conversation, the Tower¡¯s grand gate creaked open, and the recruits turned, eyes widening in surprise. Two figures stepped through, both showing clear signs of battle. Edmund, his arrogant posture unmistakable, strode forward, his body bruised but head held high. Behind him, Nando followed, his expression dark and brooding, covered in the same battle scars but carrying none of the pride Edmund seemed to revel in.


    "Guess the rumors about the gargoyle terror were true," the first recruit whispered, noting the evident signs of conflict on both of them.


    Nando barely glanced at the new recruits as he followed behind Edmund, his steps heavy with exhaustion. His mood, as usual, fluctuated between frustration and indifference. Edmund, ever the condescending one, made a point to walk faster, positioning himself ahead of Nando as they approached the center of the hall.


    The room fell silent as Edmund called for the Overseer, his voice echoing with the authority of someone who already believed he was above the others. Nando, who had long stopped caring about the fanfare, stood a few steps back, arms crossed, his dark gaze fixed on the floor. He had spent most of their return listening to Edmund talk his head off. At some point, Nando had considered ending his own life just to stop the endless bragging. At least it would be peaceful, he thought grimly. The silence now felt like a blessing.


    A small smirk played at Nando¡¯s lips as he muttered to himself, "If being prejudiced means Edmund doesn¡¯t talk to me anymore, then I¡¯m fine with it."


    The hall¡¯s grand entrance shimmered, and the Overseer appeared with his usual imposing presence, draped in his red robe that signified his rank. His gaze swept across the room before landing on Edmund. With an air of casual authority, he addressed the room.


    "It seems this year has been plentiful," the Overseer said, his voice carrying the weight of his power. "The Tower will see many new apostles before long."


    His eyes settled on Edmund. "Show me."


    Edmund¡¯s smirk widened, his confidence radiating with every subtle motion. His hair ignited first¡ªvibrant flames shot upward, crackling with fierce intensity. The fire flowed from him, not in bursts or chaotic flashes, but with controlled elegance, almost like it was a natural extension of his being. With a swift, theatrical flick of his wrist, Edmund exhaled deeply, and from his lips, a powerful stream of fire flowed forward, twisting and coiling like a serpent in midair.


    The flames began to dance, flickering more aggressively before taking shape¡ªa towering stallion, born from the very essence of the fire. Its fiery mane whipped wildly in the air, its body radiating blistering heat. Hooves, glowing like molten metal, stomped against the stone floor, leaving charred imprints beneath them. The creature stood beside Edmund, its presence as regal as it was terrifying.


    The recruits scattered instinctively, stepping back as the heat pressed uncomfortably against their skin. Faces were awash with a mixture of awe and discomfort as the fiery familiar snorted flames into the air, radiating its own fiery arrogance in the room. The blistering warmth radiating from it made the air shimmer and warp slightly, distorting their surroundings.


    The flaming stallion snorted, its eyes glowing faintly, like the heart of a burning ember. The sound of crackling flames filled the room, intensifying as the stallion shifted its weight, pawing the ground impatiently. The sheer force of its presence threatened to suffocate the air, its fiery essence almost overwhelming.


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    The Overseer observed in silence, his sharp gaze studying every flicker of flame, every shift of power as if dissecting Edmund¡¯s abilities piece by piece. After a long, tense pause, he finally spoke, his voice calm but filled with a certain gravity. "Forming a bond with a flaming familiar and turning it into your mana pool¡ªa clever approach. You¡¯ve stayed true to your gift."


    Edmund¡¯s smirk remained in place, but a flicker of pride crossed his features. ¡°Of course,¡± he replied smoothly, his voice laced with arrogance. "I¡¯ve learned to control this better than before. It¡¯s not just about the power¡ªit¡¯s about precision." As if to prove his point, he raised a hand, and the fiery stallion obediently trotted forward, its form shrinking slightly as it merged closer to Edmund. The flames danced, curling around him like a living flame shield, enveloping him in a fiery aura.


    The other recruits watched in awe, their reactions ranging from impressed murmurs to silent admiration. For all of Edmund¡¯s arrogance, his mastery over his fire affinity was undeniable.


    The Overseer took a step forward, his piercing eyes narrowing as he studied the familiar more closely. With a slight wave of his hand, a pulse of energy spread through the air, a calming wave that rippled across the room. The fiery stallion¡¯s flames flickered in response but didn¡¯t extinguish. Instead, it bowed its head slightly, almost as if in submission, before stepping back


    As the stallion flared briefly before dissipating into embers, the other recruits remained quiet, uncertain how to react. The tension that had filled the room only moments earlier remained, though now it was tinged with an odd mix of admiration and intimidation. Some recruits seemed relieved as the overwhelming heat began to dissipate slightly. Still, the aura of power remained, heavy in the air.


    Without further comment, the Overseer allowed Edmund to ascend. Edmund, ever the showman, didn¡¯t linger long. He strode toward the staircase, his flaming stallion dissipating behind him as he ascended to the higher floors.


    Now, all eyes turned to Nando. He hadn¡¯t moved from his spot, but the frustration on his face was evident. The Overseer, sensing the shift in mood, allowed a small, amused smile to form.


    "Are you always this serious, Nando?" the Overseer asked, almost playfully. But Nando didn¡¯t react, his expression darkening instead.


    In response, Nando¡¯s eyes darkened into an abyssal black, a terrifying transformation unfolding as tendrils of inky darkness surged from his back. These tendrils twisted grotesquely, shaping into a pulsating black heart that hung above him like a specter of death. The heart throbbed with unnatural, rhythmic beats, each pulse sending ripples of malevolent energy through the room. The air thickened, oppressive, and suffocating, as a palpable wave of dark power radiated from the heart. Several recruits gasped in fear, some collapsing as they were overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the energy. The heart''s surface writhed like living veins, its grotesque form growing more menacing with every beat, exuding malice. The room was plunged into a stifling, eerie silence, punctuated only by the ominous pulsing.


    Nando''s black heart mana pool was an eerie and unnatural creation, something he had discovered during his arduous return from the expedition. His affinity for dark magic, specifically tied to the concept of misery, had grown during the harrowing battles they faced, unlocking a potential within him that he hadn¡¯t anticipated. The transformation took place when he was returning with the others to the tower¡ªthe black tendrils that had become a part of himself imbued with the misery of the long-gone Tomb Walker. The black tendrils'' essence fused with his body, and over time, as Nando absorbed the suffering from both his enemies and the chaotic mana of the environment, the dark tendrils first started appearing, wrapping themselves around him in moments of intense combat. It had so happened to accumulate into this strange beating heart that sat within himself like a second of the organ. This grotesque pulsating mass became his mana pool, allowing him to tap into a vast reservoir of misery-fueled energy.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± the Overseer said, his tone firm but measured. He held Nando¡¯s gaze for a moment, his expression unyielding.


    Nando blinked, pulling back the swirling tendrils with a sharp breath, the black heart fading into the dark void within him. The air in the room instantly lightened, and the pressure that had weighed on everyone began to lift. The recruits, who had been trembling in the face of his overwhelming power, breathed a collective sigh of relief, though some still looked shaken by what they had witnessed.


    The Overseer took a deep breath and turned toward Nando, his expression now more contemplative. ¡°You¡¯ve been gifted with a rare and dangerous affinity, one tied to concepts most avoid. Misery is not an easy path to tread.¡±


    Nando nodded slowly, his face set in grim determination. ¡°I understand.¡±


    The Overseer looked at him for a long moment before speaking again. ¡°This power will grow, but you must learn to control it, lest it consumes you. Your mana pool is unique, but it carries with it the burden of others'' misery trapped within. Misery has a way of latching onto everything around it¡ªif you¡¯re not careful, you will drag others down with you.¡±


    Nando remained silent, knowing the Overseer¡¯s words were not a warning to be taken lightly.


    Nando nodded, his tone sharp. "Yeah, I¡¯ve heard it before."


    Without further delay, the Overseer gestured for him to ascend. Nando cast one last glance at the room¡ªbarely acknowledging the recruits still watching in awe or terror¡ªbefore he made his way to the stairs, disappearing from sight.


    The hall fell into a strange silence after that, the lingering presence of the dark heart still etched into the minds of those who had witnessed it. The recruits, once buzzing with excitement and curiosity, were now filled with a mix of admiration and fear. The path to becoming an apostle was no simple feat, and the power that came with it could be as terrifying as it was awe-inspiring.

 Chapter 86: The Towers Future

    Chapter 86: The Tower''s Future


    On one of the upper floors of the Tower, the atmosphere was thick with an eerie silence, the kind that would unnerve any recruit stumbling upon it. The room was vast, filled with golden light that cast long shadows on the stone walls. At its center, a figure knelt, none other than the Overseer himself, a man feared by many within the Tower. His crimson robes draped around him, contrasting starkly with the dark, mysterious figure he knelt before.


    For any who might witness the scene, the sight of the Overseer kneeling would stir unease. It was a display of submission, something rarely seen by anyone, let alone one as powerful as him. The man standing over him was adorned in regal robes of gray, with golden threads tracing the hem, the intricate design marking him as someone beyond ordinary authority. On his chest, a golden dragon head gleamed, matching the brilliance of the accessories that decorated his form. His smile was disarming, yet it held a deep power.


    The Vice Tower Master was a figure cloaked in mystery, someone both feared and revered within the Tower, second in command to the elusive Tower Master. His presence seemed to carry an almost tangible weight, and wherever he went, it felt as though the air itself grew heavier.


    "There will be many recruits and soon-to-be apostles returning," the Overseer began, his tone steady but filled with deference as he addressed the Vice Tower Master. "This year¡¯s intake could see the Tower rise in power once again. Ronald has already made his breakthrough, followed by Nando, Edmund, Tina, Agatha, and Tobias. Word from Wolf reports that Sena and Alisa are on the verge as well, returning soon, only steps away from their own ascensions. Isabella is not far behind either among others. The number of Rank One Apostles will increase significantly."


    The room felt charged with an unspoken tension, the air thick with anticipation as the Overseer paused, letting the gravity of his statement sink in. He stood before a towering figure, the Vice Tower Master, a man who commanded not only power but a presence that was impossible to ignore. Every word the Overseer spoke was weighed carefully, knowing full well that the Vice Tower Master dissected each syllable, searching for deeper meaning beneath the surface.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s golden eyes gleamed, a sharp contrast to his otherwise calm demeanor. They held a mixture of anticipation and something darker¡ªa hidden intent that only those who knew him well could detect. His charisma was undeniable, drawing attention effortlessly, yet beneath that polished exterior lay an ambition so cold, it could freeze the soul.


    ¡°More apostles,¡± he began, his voice like velvet, soft yet with a weight that pressed down on the room. He paused, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. ¡°Each as unique as the other¡­ Strange affinities, some we¡¯ve never seen in this tower before.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s voice was deceptively smooth, filled with a dangerous allure. There was purpose behind every word, a vision that extended beyond the simple matters of recruits and Tower duties. He wasn¡¯t concerned with mere talents or individual distinctions. His focus was on power¡ªpure, undiluted power.


    ¡°Gifted or not,¡± he continued, his tone hardening just slightly, ¡°it matters little. Power is the only currency that holds true value. And with more apostles at our disposal, we can finally deal with the true threat in the South.¡±


    His words hung in the air like a dark omen, heavy with intent. Despite the soft cadence of his voice, the underlying excitement was unmistakable. He leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes glinting with barely concealed eagerness.


    ¡°Almost fifty apostles in total,¡± he mused, the corners of his lips lifting into a subtle smile. ¡°That makes us the most formidable Tower in the entire Bask Region.¡±


    The Overseer remained silent, but his eyes flickered with a hint of unease. For all his own stature and experience, he could not entirely mask the trepidation that had settled within him. He knew all too well what the Vice Tower Master referred to. The southern dungeons¡ªremnants of an ancient, forgotten enemy¡ªhad long been a looming threat, their dark magic left unchecked for centuries.


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    ¡°Master,¡± the Overseer began cautiously, choosing his words carefully, ¡°the southern dungeons¡­ They aren¡¯t like the ones we¡¯ve dealt with before.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s smile widened slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on the Overseer. ¡°Precisely. That¡¯s what makes them interesting, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    The Overseer suppressed a shudder. He had seen the reports and had heard the whispers of what lurked in those cursed places. Dungeons are designed not just to challenge, but to drain mana itself from the land, leaving entire regions barren of magical essence. The creatures inside were horrors not meant to be faced by ordinary apostles¡ªbeings of immense power that could only be tackled by those Apostles ranked above RankTwo.


    ¡°The northern dungeons,¡± the Overseer continued, ¡°they¡¯ve been cleared thanks to the combined efforts of all of the central towers. But the South¡­ It¡¯s different. We¡¯ve barely scratched the surface here. The surrounding area is fine but further south some dungeons have never been challenged.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master waved a dismissive hand, his golden eyes gleaming with something that almost resembled excitement. ¡°The North is tame now,¡± he said, his voice dripping with disdain. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve dealt with the threats there. But the South¡­ The South holds potential. There¡¯s power there, old power. Power that we can harness, if we¡¯re willing to take the risk.¡±


    He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze never leaving the Overseer. ¡°That¡¯s why these new apostles are so important. They are the key to unlocking the South. Every one of them is a piece on the board, and I intend to use them wisely.¡±


    The Overseer swallowed, feeling the weight of the Vice Tower Master¡¯s words. For all the excitement in his voice, there was something deeply unsettling about his ambitions. The way he spoke of the new apostles¡ªlike tools to be used, pawns in a much larger game¡ªsent a chill down the Overseer¡¯s spine.


    ¡°I want you to monitor the progress of the new apostles closely,¡± the Vice Tower Master continued, his tone sharp and commanding. ¡°Especially those with the strange affinities. I sense something different about this batch, something we haven¡¯t seen before.¡±


    The Overseer nodded, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment. ¡°Of course, Master. I will make sure their progress is¡­ closely observed.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± the Vice Tower Master replied, his voice softening slightly. ¡°Because soon, we will need all of them. The South won¡¯t conquer itself, and if we can get the thirteenth tower to be here in the Bask region, our influence would improve, and we would have another hand in eradicating the dungeon from the whole south.¡±


    The southern dungeons weren¡¯t like the ones near the central regions, where the Kingdom had eradicated some of these corrupted towers over the centuries. These were deeper, older, and far more dangerous. Towers in the central lands, near the capital of Lorencia, had more resources, more powerful apostles, and better defenses to fight against these dungeons and their corruptions. But here, in the southern region, Bask, the fight was still raw, and the dungeons remained an ever-present danger.


    The Vice Tower Master gestured out of the window. The sunlight fell through, bathing the room in a golden glow that seemed to only accentuate the tension between his lofty ambitions and the harsh realities the Overseer knew all too well. Outside, the land stretched out, seemingly peaceful, but both men knew that beneath it, the ancient threats still stirred. ¡°The dungeons are waiting," the Vice Tower Master said quietly. "And this Tower, with its apostles, will be the ones to end it."


    The Overseer nodded, the weight of the task ahead pressing down on him. For all the excitement that lingered in the Vice Tower Master¡¯s words, the Overseer felt the gravity of what they would soon face¡ªthe cursed dungeons that were far more than simple structures.


    ¡°The three Towers of the South, the newest of the Rollen Kingdom, stand as the first line of defense,¡± the Vice Tower Master continued, his gaze intense. ¡°Verdant Sanctuary and Duskfang Bastion are our sister Towers and the only other ones allowing non-gifted recruits apart from us. Together, we protect our territories from the corruption of the dungeons, our duty as guardians.¡±


    The Overseer remained quiet, absorbing the gravity of the words. Finally, he responded, ¡°The more apostles we create, the better chance we have of destroying these dungeons. It¡¯s our best hope of protecting the mundane lands from corruption and solving the strange magical cases that keep emerging.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s approving nod held a weight of expectation. ¡°Indeed. These new recruits will prove to the rest of the Towers in the central region that strength is not limited to the gifted. We will show them that our path, including non-gifted, is the future.¡±


    As he turned toward the window, overlooking the vast lands below, the Overseer rose from his kneeling position. His heart was filled with anticipation, but also an undercurrent of anxiety. The future of the southern Towers and the Kingdom¡¯s defense against these ancient threats now lay in the hands of the recruits. Only time would tell if they were up to the monumental challenge awaiting them.

 Chapter 87: The Ascension of Stars, Hell, and Serpents (End of Volume 1)

    Chapter 87: The Ascension of Stars, Hell, and Serpents


    The second floor of the tower was quiet but for the occasional flickering of light that could be seen through the cracks under the wooden door of a particular room. It wasn¡¯t a natural light¡ªits source pulsed with a rhythm like that of a heartbeat. Recruits had started to take notice of it. Whenever someone passed by, they could see a sliver of brightness leaking through the crevices, as though the very air was glowing within. At night, it was far more prominent¡ªlike a lighthouse casting its beam into the void.


    Abel had been locked inside for days. The room itself seemed to hum with his energy, yet no one dared interrupt his mysterious process. Inside, Abel was bathed in a brilliant, otherworldly light¡ªso bright, that the walls and floors were lost in the overwhelming white radiance. The light wasn¡¯t static, though; it pulsed, it shimmered, it grew and contracted in a cycle, as if the room itself was breathing.


    Abel stood in the center of this sea of light, his body shimmering as though it were made of pure starlight. He had been absorbing the energy for days¡ªstarlight that pulsed through him, overfilling his being. His skin glowed with a deep luminescence, so bright it was almost blinding. The intensity was overwhelming, but Abel showed no signs of strain. Instead, he appeared calm, his eyes closed, his face serene.


    It felt as if he had become the star he once consumed¡ªa celestial body, radiating warmth and power. The star he had devoured spun rapidly inside him, its energy coursing through every vein, igniting every cell with its radiance. Faster and faster it spun, the pressure building as the light intensified, threatening to burst from within.


    Then, in an instant, it happened.


    The light that had filled the room¡ªso intense it seemed ready to explode¡ªsnuffed out like a candle. The silence that followed was eerie. But as quickly as the light vanished, something new appeared. In front of Abel¡¯s chest, a swirling, pulsating star materialized¡ªan ethereal, powerful star that hovered just beyond his skin. It emitted a gentle, calming light, as though the purest essence of the cosmos had taken form.


    Abel looked down at the star with awe. His body had transformed yet again, rejuvenated, reborn. The swirling star then enters his body with a gentle touch, within him, it was no longer wild or chaotic¡ªit had become a reservoir, a vast pool of mana he could now easily pull from. The energy was endless, and it flowed through him like a river. He had succeeded. Although the star still looked ethereal within him, it held an undeniable connection to himself, as he could feel much stronger than before.


    Abel had broken through.


    The star within him was now his core, his anchor to the celestial powers he had bonded with. He felt invincible. The sheer potential of his newfound strength filled him with a sense of awe. Anything seemed possible now, as if he could command the very forces of the universe. Calm yet brimming with energy, Abel¡¯s ascension had only just begun.


    ¡­


    While Abel was breaking through, on the first floor of the tower Sena stood before the Overseer. His body radiated intense heat as flames crackled along his skin, wrapping him in a fierce aura of fire. His normally dark eyes now glowed a brilliant crimson, reflecting the immense power coursing through him. The recruits watched in awe, feeling the oppressive heat emanating from him, forcing them to take a few steps back.


    From his temple, a single, gleaming curved horn emerged, shimmering with a deep red light. The horn pulsed rhythmically, as though alive, becoming Sena''s new mana pool, a core from which his immense power flowed. It wasn¡¯t just an accessory¡ªit was his source of energy, a reservoir for his hellish abilities. Each throb of the horn sent ripples of mana through the air, distorting the space around it as though the sheer power it contained was too great to be restrained.


    Sena raised a hand, and the flames surrounding him danced in response, controlled and deliberate. His mastery over hellish fire was evident, it was vile and unbelievably hot¡ªwhat had once been an uncontrollable force now obeyed his every command. The flames flickered and swirled, casting long shadows on the stone floor and illuminating his massive frame in a crimson light. Even the recruits, gifted in their own rights, could feel the overwhelming energy radiating from him, their awe mixed with a hint of fear.


    The Overseer, ever the calm observer, took a step closer, inspecting Sena¡¯s transformation. His gaze lingered on the single horn, recognizing its significance. "A rare manifestation of power," he said softly, his voice carrying through the room. "Your mana pool has taken physical form¡ªa living source of your strength."


    Sena stood tall, feeling the raw energy coursing through him, his body resonating with the heat of his flames. He was no longer just a warrior¡ªhe was a beacon of power, his horn marking the culmination of his transformation. His strength had evolved beyond what he had once known, and the fire that had once threatened to consume him was now his to command.


    The Overseer gave a slight nod of approval, a real gesture. "You¡¯ve harnessed it well," he said, his voice firm. "With this, you are ready to ascend."


    With a grateful nod, Sena bowed slightly, his body still ablaze with flames as he turned to climb the stairs, moving to the higher floors, leaving behind the murmurs of admiration from the watching recruits.


    Soon after he left Overseer was called by another figure that approached. Isabella stepped forward, her eyes filled with determination. ¡°Overseer, I wish to be assessed as well,¡± she stated firmly.


    Isabella walked, her movements fluid and controlled. The Overseer, his curiosity piqued, watched as she prepared to demonstrate her newfound power. With a simple gesture, Isabella raised her hand, and from the folds of her robe, a small crystalline snake slithered out, glistening as it hit the light. The tiny creature coiled briefly around her wrist before leaping onto the ground. In that instant, the entire room seemed to shift as the air thickened with energy.


    The recruits around them watched in awe, gasping as the snake began to grow, its form expanding in size and power. From the floor, a massive serpent materialized, towering over everyone in the room. Its body coiled protectively around Isabella, each scale now a radiant, crystalline structure that pulsed with raw, unfiltered energy. The serpent¡¯s scales reflected light in every direction, casting the room in a rainbow of shimmering colors. What had once been a simple serpent was now a living, breathing statue of power, brought to life by the energies Isabella had gained from the expedition.


    The atmosphere shifted further, growing almost divine in presence. The crystalline snake looked like it belonged to another world, its very existence challenging the boundary between magic and reality. Its eyes, bright and piercing, locked on the Overseer for a moment before returning to Isabella, its mistress. As it hissed softly, a faint, glowing pattern appeared on Isabella¡¯s cheek¡ªa snake-scale motif that shimmered with the same radiant energy as her serpent.


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    With another smooth motion, the gigantic serpent began to dissolve, its crystalline form breaking apart into shards of light. But it wasn¡¯t disappearing. Instead, the snake¡¯s entire essence merged back into Isabella, flowing into the glowing pattern on her cheek. The recruits, still processing the spectacle, could almost feel the immense power coalescing within her, as if the serpent had become one with her body, fusing with her very being.


    The room was silent, save for the faint crackling of magical energy still lingering in the air. Isabella¡¯s transformation was now complete¡ªher serpent had become her mana pool, an endless well of serpentine strength that she could summon at will. She was no longer just a gifted fighter; she had become a force to be reckoned with, her mana pool alive and intertwined with her body.


    The Overseer, though not easily impressed, took a step forward, his eyes narrowing in approval. He nodded, his gaze lingering on the now faint, glowing pattern on her cheek. ¡°Impressive,¡± he said, his voice low but filled with acknowledgment. ¡°Your mana pool has taken a form rarely seen¡ªboth a weapon and a part of you. You¡¯ve harnessed its power well.¡±


    Isabella bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, her expression calm but the glow of satisfaction clear in her eyes.


    ¡°You, too, may ascend,¡± the Overseer finished, his words carrying a weight of finality.


    Isabella thanked him, her eyes glimmering with satisfaction as she acended.


    Just as the Overseer was about to turn and leave, a faint light illuminated the base of the staircase, catching his attention. His eyes, sharp and seasoned, fell upon a figure that had been hidden in the shadows. It was Abel. The light surrounding him was not from a lantern or the sun but from within. A soft, ethereal glow radiated from his skin, a lingering remnant of the starlight he had absorbed during his transformation.


    Abel walked with calm confidence, but there was a distinct power in his stride¡ªa quiet, controlled strength that made the room feel heavier, more charged. His presence was unmistakable now, drawing the eyes of the remaining recruits who had watched the previous ascensions in awe. Now, they turned their attention to this glowing figure who seemed to carry the weight of the cosmos within him.


    The Overseer¡¯s expression, typically unreadable, shifted ever so slightly. His lips parted in mild surprise, his eyes narrowing in interest as he watched Abel approach. The Overseer had seen many ascend, but something about this young man was different. There was a quiet energy about him, a presence that wasn¡¯t like the fiery rage of Sena or the serpentine grace of Isabella. Abel¡¯s power was subtler, but far more profound¡ªlike the steady pull of gravity or the distant glow of a star on the horizon.


    As Abel reached the base of the stairs, the faint light that emanated from his body flickered for a moment before stabilizing, brighter than before. It wasn¡¯t just a glow now¡ªit was a pulse, a rhythm that matched the very beat of the world around him. The whole of the first floor seemed to be engulfed in a starry light, as some apostles covered their eyes due to the brightness. The star he had once consumed seemed to thrum in sync with the universe itself within him, and it was this connection that made Abel so distinct. He had his own personal star, a real star, a mana pool.


    The Overseer stepped forward, his imposing presence casting a deep shadow across Abel, but Abel remained firm. His gaze met the Overseer¡¯s, his calm, unflinching eyes reflecting the light of the growing star within him. The air in the room grew thick with tension, as if the very space around them was holding its breath, waiting for the final acknowledgment of Abel¡¯s power.


    ¡°Your time has come, Stargazer,¡± the Overseer intoned, his voice carrying a rare tone of respect. He had witnessed Abel¡¯s evolution firsthand, the boy who had once been a mere recruit now standing before him as something far more powerful and profound. The Overseer¡¯s tone had shifted, no longer one of authority, but of recognition.


    Abel remained silent, his expression focused yet serene. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his chest, revealing the star that now hovered above him¡ªa radiant, celestial body that spun gently, pulsating with a soft glow. It was more than just a source of power; it was the very essence of his being, a link between himself and the vast, unknowable cosmos. Its light bathed the room in a calming, ethereal glow, drawing the awe-struck gazes of the recruits around them.


    Gasps of amazement rippled through the onlookers. The star wasn¡¯t just a symbol of Abel¡¯s power¡ªit was a manifestation of his will and his deep connection to the stars themselves, a bond forged through his trials and growth. The orb, so gentle and serene in appearance, seemed to contain within it the raw, limitless potential of the universe, its soft light brushing against the walls like a distant nebula.


    For a moment, time itself seemed to slow, the atmosphere charged with expectation. Abel¡¯s heart beat in rhythm with the star, each pulse aligning him closer to the infinite energy that lay beyond the reach of normal human understanding. He could feel it¡ªan energy so vast, so incomprehensible, yet so intimate. The stars had guided him here, and now they responded to his will.


    The Overseer, though calm, couldn¡¯t entirely mask the slight flicker of awe in his gaze. The transformation was complete. Abel had crossed the threshold from apprentice to apostle, from student to master of his own affinity.


    ¡°A star that might not be born of this world,¡± the Overseer said thoughtfully, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°The light within you is unlike any I¡¯ve seen. You stand on the edge of something extraordinary.¡± He paused, his golden eyes studying the boy¡ªno, the apostle¡ªbefore him with a deeper intensity. ¡°But even the greatest light casts shadows. Remember that.¡±


    The warning was clear, though it didn¡¯t diminish the sense of pride and accomplishment that radiated from the Overseer. Abel had become a beacon of potential, a star in his own right. But the cosmos, with all its beauty, also carried dangers beyond comprehension.


    Abel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. He understood the risks but also knew that his journey was only beginning. This power¡ªthis connection to the infinite¡ªwas both a blessing and a burden, and it was up to him to master it.


    The other recruits could only watch in silence, feeling as though they were witnessing something beyond themselves. Abel wasn¡¯t just another recruit or apostle¡ªhe was becoming something else entirely. Whispers spread through the group, filled with awe and wonder.


    The Overseer turned to the recruits, his voice sharp and commanding once more. ¡°This is what you all must strive for,¡± he said, gesturing toward Abel. ¡°Power, yes, but more than that¡ªa connection. True mastery doesn¡¯t come from brute strength alone. It comes from understanding the force that flows through you, and bending it to your will.¡±


    The recruits nodded, though many looked as though they were still processing the sheer magnitude of what they had just seen. For some, it was inspiring¡ªa glimpse of what they, too, might one day achieve. For others, it was daunting, a reminder of the impossible heights they would need to scale.


    Abel, feeling the weight of the room¡¯s attention, exhaled softly. He lowered his hand, and the star dimmed slightly, retreating back into the space just above his heart. Its light still flickered, a silent reminder of the cosmic power now at his command.


    But even as the star quieted, Abel¡¯s mind raced. There were still so many mysteries to unravel¡ªabout the star, about himself, and about the path that lay ahead. The Overseer¡¯s words lingered in his mind, their weight pressing against him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been preparing for this moment,¡± Abel said, his voice low but steady, resonating with a newfound confidence. ¡°I¡¯m ready to ascend.¡±


    The Overseer nodded. ¡°You have been touched by the stars themselves, it seems. You have broken through the barriers that hold others back. Your ascension is not just an acknowledgment of your power¡ªit¡¯s a recognition of the path you¡¯re destined to walk.¡±


    He stepped aside, granting Abel access to the stairs that led to the higher levels of the tower. The path was now open, the way forward clear as Abel moved up the stairs..


    As he approached the second level, the soft glow from his star spread out, casting a faint light over the entire chamber once more. Abel stood still for a moment, turning to glance down at the others. He wasn¡¯t the same person who had entered the tower all those days ago, unsure of his place in this world. Now, he was something more¡ªsomeone more. The star within him pulsed with life, ready to take him to heights he had never imagined.


    And as he disappeared from sight, moving toward the unseen challenges that awaited him, there was a sense of finality in the air. His time had come. But the question remained: how far would Abel¡¯s star take him?


    End of Volume 1.

 Chapter 88: The Path of Apostleship

    Chapter 88: The Path of Apostleship


    The chamber was immense, bathed in an eerie, mystical glow that pulsed in time with the ancient magic woven into the very stone of the Tower. The light came not from any visible source but seemed to seep from the walls themselves, casting long shadows that flickered and danced across the room. Abel stood among the newly promoted apostles, each adorned in sleek black robes, their silver badges catching the dim light, glinting with a faint glow of their own. On the back of each badge, their new titles were engraved¡ªsimple, elegant, yet weighty.


    Abel¡¯s hand brushed over the smooth surface of his badge, the etching of his name ¡°Stargazer¡± deep and precise. It wasn¡¯t just a symbol of his rank, but a mark of everything he had endured. The sleek black robes clung to his form, a far cry from the attire he had worn as a mere recruit. On Top of the self-cleaning magic, it had some minor defense against magical spells. Now, standing in the Tower¡¯s most sacred hall, Abel felt both pride and a strange sense of isolation, as if his journey had only just begun. He glanced around at his fellow apostles. Tina, Edmund, Nando, and the others from Room Eighty were all there, their expressions a mix of awe, exhaustion, and anticipation.


    Above them, vast murals painted the ceiling, telling the stories of long-forgotten battles, epic struggles against evil forces, and humanity¡¯s rise to claim its own power in a world that often seemed indifferent to its fate. These images weren¡¯t just for decoration; they were reminders¡ªlessons etched in the stone for future generations to learn from. Abel found his eyes drawn to a scene where warriors clashed with monstrous beings under a blood-red sky, their weapons glowing with an ethereal light, much like the one pulsing in the room now, the area felt truly magical.


    At the far end of the hall, the Tower Master stood like a sentinel, his figure shrouded in a robe of dark gray, trimmed with intricate gold patterns that pulsated a magical aura. His presence was heavy, the kind that demanded attention without saying a word, however just gazing towards him made their eyes sting and water. In addition, his face was hidden deep within the folds of his hood, but the weight of his gaze was unmistakable. Each apostle could feel it. It was as though the air thickened around them, pushing down on their shoulders, making even breathing a task of focus.


    But Abel didn¡¯t yield. Despite the immense pressure, despite the oppressive atmosphere, he stood tall. The energy around him was his own, the starlight-infused power swirling gently within his chest, his ethereal star hovering just behind his thoughts. The other apostles, too, stood firm, each of them drawing on the strength they had earned through trials, battles, and suffering.


    ¡°You are apostles now,¡± the Tower Master¡¯s voice echoed through the vast space. It was deep, resonant, and carried a weight that made the air tremble. ¡°No longer recruits, no longer children of the unknown.¡±


    His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken challenges that lay ahead. Abel¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as the Tower Master continued, the words slicing through the silence like a blade.


    ¡°This is but the beginning. Your journey from this point will define more than just yourselves¡ªit will define the fate of those you protect, and the very balance of the world as you know it.¡±


    Abel glanced at his comrades¡ªat Tina, standing tall and unflinching; at Ronald, whose sharp eyes missed nothing. They had all come so far. The weight of their responsibility was not lost on them. Yet, there was no fear in their eyes¡ªonly determination, the quiet kind that comes from having survived what others could not.


    The Tower Master¡¯s voice softened, yet the power in it lingered like a quiet storm. ¡°Your power is your own, but you must wield it wisely. The path ahead is fraught with dangers, both seen and unseen. Remember this¡ªwhat you choose to protect will also define who you are.¡±


    The hall fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air, reverberating with an ancient authority. Abel stood motionless, feeling the warmth of his badge as his heart thrummed with unspoken purpose. The ethereal star within him pulsed faintly, as though stirred by the Tower Master¡¯s command. His thoughts briefly drifted to the quiet village he had left behind¡ªthe faces of his family, his home. It was for them that he stood here now, seeking not just power but answers. Yet, in the vastness of the Tower, those answers seemed more elusive than ever.


    ¡°As apostles,¡± the Tower Master continued, his voice weaving through the air like a spell, ¡°you are not just warriors. You are a special group of selected few in the human race. The selected few aware of more than just the magical world around you. The dungeons¡ªthe cursed remnants of enemies long forgotten¡ªthreaten our very existence. They drain mana from the land, they sap our strength, and they linger like poison in the veins of our world.¡± His tone darkened, a shadow passing over the room. "Your duty, from this moment onward, is to combat this great evil."


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    The mention of the dungeons sent an almost palpable wave of unease through the apostles. Even after all their experiences, the thought of entering those legendary labyrinths¡ªsaid to stretch endlessly beneath the earth, or perhaps even pierce the sky¡ªfilled them with dread.


    The Tower Master seemed to sense the tension building in the room, his eyes glimmering beneath the heavy hood of his robe. His robed arms rose slowly, the gold threads of his garment shimmering in the dim light of the hall. ¡°The time will come when each of you will face the dungeons, and maybe we''ll even work together one day. But for now, the Vice Tower Master should shine a light on a few things¡­¡±


    His voice trailed off as his towering figure stepped back, allowing himself to fall backward, and as he was about to hit the ground, he simply fell into it, his presence becoming more of an echo, like a fading whisper of power. Abel exhaled softly, tension unraveling slightly within him, but he couldn¡¯t shake the ominous weight of the Tower Master¡¯s words.


    In the silence that followed, A golden door materialized where the Tower Master once stood. The door was oval with many intricate shapes and geometric designs. The door opened slowly as a dazzling golden light was emitted from the other side of the door. From within that light, the Vice Tower Master stepped out and towards the hall, causing the oval door to disappear with a last flash of light. The Vice Tower Master. Dressed in gray and gold robes almost similar to the Tower Masters bar the aura that gleamed with a faint light, he was a striking figure with his sleek, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Unlike the distant, almost overwhelming presence of the Tower Master, the Vice Tower Master¡¯s smile was disarming, friendly even, but there was no denying the sharpness in his gaze or the hidden strength beneath his pleasant exterior.


    ¡°Now, new apostles,¡± he said, his voice smooth and authoritative, ¡°let¡¯s speak of what comes next.¡± He paced slowly in front of them, his robes swaying lightly with each step. ¡°Your trials may be over, but your real journey is only beginning. And as you¡¯ve heard, the dungeons will be a part of that journey. Each one more dangerous than the last.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s voice carried a warmth that filled the room, distinctly different from the oppressive aura of the Tower Master. ¡°You¡¯ve taken your first steps into a larger world,¡± he said, his tone rich with pride. ¡°As apostles, you are the hope of the Stone Tower. Here in the Bask region, we stand alongside Verdant Sanctuary and Duskfang Bastion, guarding the southern reaches of the Rollan Kingdom. Together, we will conquer the dungeons that drain our lands of mana and secure this continent for humanity.¡±


    The apostles shifted, some puffing up with pride, while others like Abel felt a mix of awe and anticipation. The Vice Tower Master continued, his voice taking on a weightier tone. ¡°These dungeons... they are not mere ruins. As you¡¯ve heard from the Tower Master, they are the remnants of cursed powers left by the strange races that once threatened humanity. These places siphon mana from the land, weakening it, and within them lurk creatures that defy reason. But with that danger, there are many rewards, such as Magical Runes.¡±


    Abel¡¯s pulse quickened at the mention of runes, a fragment of the arcane knowledge he had been eager to learn more about. The Vice Tower Master¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd, sensing their heightened curiosity. ¡°Runes,¡± he explained, ¡°are pieces of the world¡¯s natural laws, crystallized in these cursed towers or strange places around the world. They hold the power to transform your mana pool, strengthening it, evolving it, and giving you a perspective of the world unique to the rune you''ve acquired. With each rune you absorb, you grow not just in power but in your connection to the magic that flows through our world. Those who master five runes can ascend to Rank Five apostles, well on their way to becoming Magians.¡±


    He paused, allowing the weight of this knowledge to sink in, before continuing. ¡°But,¡± the Vice Tower Master¡¯s voice grew more serious, ¡°it is not so simple for all of you. Those of you with unique affinities will find that not every rune will align with your powers. Some of you, the non-gifted especially, may struggle to find runes that resonate. But don¡¯t lose hope. Rare as they may be, some runes will call to you, and you must seek them out. There are many strange runes in this world, each holding secrets of powers beyond reason, through hard work, knowledge, and research anything is possible.¡±


    Abel¡¯s heart thudded as the gravity of the Vice Tower Master¡¯s words took hold. His thoughts flicked back to the starry mana pool within him. Would there be a rune that aligned with something as otherworldly as the stars? He knew his path would be fraught with challenges, but there was something else¡ªan electric thrill at the idea of discovering something that could elevate his power, something that could truly make him understand his strange affinity.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s gaze lingered for a moment longer on the non-gifted apostles before stepping back, his presence commanding without being overbearing. ¡°You are apostles of the Stone Tower now. Seek your path, strengthen your powers, and know this: every challenge you face will mold you into something greater.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s face softened, his tone growing lighter. ¡°Your task is not just to conquer the dungeons, though that is your primary duty. Despite your advancement to a Rank One Apostle, your power will not be enough to help you survive within these dungeons, therefore, there is another duty that is just as important.  As apostles, you will serve as protectors of humanity¡ªguardians of the mundane lands. You will receive missions through your badges while you are overseeing these locations, and in time, you may establish your own quarters within our territory, making your discoveries with hopes of growing your strength to further prepare you for these dungeons. But for now, follow me, I''ll show you around the new environment.¡±


    With that, the Vice Tower Master stepped to the side and then towards the door, gesturing for the apostles to follow him through the halls of the upper floors.

 Chapter 89: The Upper Floors of The Tower

    Chapter 89: The Upper Floors of The Tower


    The apostles followed the Vice Tower Master through the halls towards the common area, their footsteps echoing faintly in the otherwise silent corridors. The air was dense with energy as they moved, each step bringing a subtle shift in the atmosphere, thick with an ancient magic that seemed to live within the very walls. As they moved, the weight of history pressed upon them, as though they were intruding on a sacred space meant only for the few who had proven worthy.


    When they reached the common area of the seventh floor, Abel felt his heart quicken. The common area was an architectural marvel; vast, open, and bathed in a soft, enchanted glow that illuminated its grandeur. The walls were enchanted to display vivid landscapes of the region surrounding the Tower. The enchantment was so realistic that it appeared as if the walls had melted away, leaving only an unbroken view of sky, forest, and distant mountains. It was breathtakingly beautiful, yet hauntingly silent, an invitation to look beyond the stone walls and imagine the world they were now bound to protect.


    Abel¡¯s eyes fell upon the statues that stood vigilantly in each corner of the room. Carved from smooth, cold stone, the knights'' statues loomed tall, their expressions a stoic reminder of duty and sacrifice. Each held a different weapon, and the stonework was so fine that the apostles could almost see the shimmer of ghostly armor reflected in the dim light. The shadows cast by the statues stretched across the floor, intertwining in intricate patterns, almost as if they, too, were watching¡ªjudging¡ªeach apostle as they entered.


    Abel leaned toward Ronald, speaking softly, ¡°There¡¯s no one here.¡± His voice was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to carry through the room. Ronald¡¯s gaze flickered to Abel¡¯s, his nod subdued yet in agreement. They were alone in this grand space, a reminder of the solitary journey each apostle faced, no matter how many allies surrounded them.


    The Vice Tower Master broke the silence, his voice steady, imbued with an almost fatherly warmth that contrasted with the Tower Master¡¯s otherworldly tone. ¡°This space is yours to find peace, to reflect,¡± he said, glancing around as if to appreciate the beauty of the room himself. ¡°The Tower will demand much from each of you. Remember, here you can return to the quiet.¡±


    As they descended to the sixth and fifth floors, the atmosphere shifted tangibly. Where the seventh floor had radiated a solemn tranquility, these floors pulsed with an electric intensity, almost as if the walls themselves buzzed with the residual energy of countless past experiments. Abel noticed faint scorch marks along the walls, barely visible cracks, and the slight scent of burning herbs and metal¡ªa testament to the potent magic that had been harnessed here. These floors were designed to push the apostles beyond what they thought possible.


    The Vice Tower Master led them through, his tone becoming stern. ¡°These laboratories are vital to your growth,¡± he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of countless lessons learned and challenges overcome. ¡°Here, you¡¯ll deepen your understanding of your affinity, conduct research, and¡ªif fate permits¡ªdelve into the study of runes capable of evolving your mana pool.¡±


    The word ¡°runes¡± sparked an immediate reaction among the apostles. The mention brought both excitement and unease to their faces. Abel¡¯s mind raced with questions and ambitions, but alongside them came uncertainty. He exchanged a glance with Tina, catching the flash of apprehension mirrored in her expression. Runes were a powerful tool in an apostle¡¯s journey, and yet their mysterious nature made the prospect of wielding them intimidating.


    As they passed by a series of intricately locked chambers, Abel could feel the faint energies radiating from within. The chamber walls seemed to pulse slightly, as though containing forces straining to escape. Inside each laboratory, strange shapes and art were etched into stone tables, and shelves brimming with rare and strange monster body parts lined the walls, as well as some ancient tools. These tools hummed with dormant energy, their designs intricate, delicate, each one a potential breakthrough waiting to happen¡ªor a dangerous misstep.


    One chamber was aglow with blue light emanating from a series of magical crystals, another filled with plants with shifting, luminescent leaves. A faint trace of magical spores floated from them, filling the air with an earthy, almost intoxicating scent. Other apostles, already further along in their research, could be seen hunched over their workbenches in their own laboratories, lost in concentration as they ran delicate fingertips over their tools and experiments, causing sparks of energy to flicker and crackle like miniature lightning bolts.


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    The Vice Tower Master gestured to the chambers. ¡°You will need focus, patience, and above all, discipline to harness the power you seek here,¡± he warned. ¡°You may be apostles now, but power without knowledge is dangerous. Mastery takes time, so remember to respect the limits of what you can handle.¡±


    Abel took in the enormity of it all. The path ahead was daunting, the prospect of expanding his mana pool exciting, but he couldn¡¯t help the flicker of anxiety that stirred within him. He understood, perhaps more deeply than ever, that these floors held both the key to his growth and the peril of his ambitions. But it was in these chambers, he realized, that he would push the boundaries of what he could become.


    The apostles continued their descent, and soon the grandeur of the Tower¡¯s upper floors gave way to the more grounded atmosphere of the fourth floor. Their footsteps echoed in the dimly lit corridors, the soft hum of magic from the laboratories above now faint, barely perceptible. The faint scents of old wood and parchment filled the air, a reminder that this floor was more practical compared to the mystical chambers above.


    ¡°Why do you call these quarters ¡®temporary?¡¯¡± Tobias¡ªa tall, dark-haired man with sharp features asked, breaking the quiet tension. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of curiosity and challenge, as though testing the response.


    The Vice Tower Master stopped and turned, his intense blue eyes fixed on the young apostle with a calm authority. ¡°Because you won¡¯t always reside here,¡± he replied, voice resonating with a subtle strength. ¡°In time, you will establish your own quarters outside the Tower. But your residence must remain within the Bask region. You will be protectors, both here and among the villages and towns that rely on us for stability. It will be your role to balance the worlds of magic and the mundane, ensuring the safety and harmony of both.¡±


    Abel¡¯s heartbeat quickened at the mention of the villages. Thoughts flooded his mind, vivid memories of his own village nestled on the region¡¯s edge. The small, familiar streets, the humble homes, his family. He wondered if his village already had a protector¡ªa thought that stirred both hope and anxiety within him. If he were allowed to return as an apostle, what would that mean for him and his family? Would he be able to truly safeguard them from the strange, hidden threats he had only just begun to understand?


    The words rang in his ears, settling into a mix of inspiration and trepidation. The apostles around him seemed to share in this collective anticipation, each of them likely thinking of a place or a person that felt like home. The possibilities now stretched out before them, both promising and uncertain.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s tone shifted, his words filling the dim hallway with an ominous weight. ¡°Dungeons are not our only threat. Throughout the Bask region, there have been reports of strange gatherings, magical disturbances, and peculiar forces disrupting the balance. You¡¯ll face these threats head-on, investigating and restoring stability where it¡¯s been compromised. This duty is not to be taken lightly. Your skills, your endurance, and even your loyalty will be tested in ways you have yet to imagine.¡±


    The gravity of his words wrapped around the apostles like a dense fog, each of them standing a bit more still, listening intently. Abel felt his heart pound, his gaze drifting to the surrounding walls as if they, too, were absorbing the Vice Tower Master¡¯s message. This wasn¡¯t just a fight against creatures in forgotten places; they were guardians against an undercurrent of mysteries and dangers woven into their everyday world. As he looked around at his comrades, he sensed that each of them understood this responsibility with fresh intensity.


    The Vice Tower Master shifted his gaze among them, his piercing blue eyes seeming to see through each apostle. ¡°For now, prepare yourselves. In time, each of you will be called to meet with me through your new badges. Then, you¡¯ll be told of your personal quarters outside the Tower,¡± he continued, his voice dropping to a softer tone. ¡°These quarters will be a reflection of your commitment to serve and protect this land. Think carefully about the path you now walk and the dangers that lie ahead.¡±


    The apostles nodded in silent agreement, though a palpable sense of tension flickered across their faces. One by one, they began to make their way down the hall, murmuring in low tones, and sharing glances of anticipation and apprehension. As they passed Abel, he caught a glimpse of their expressions¡ªsome determined, others nervous, all carrying an awareness of the gravity of what lay ahead.


    Abel lingered for a moment, watching as the others slowly dispersed. Unsurprisingly, the members of Room Eighty began to congregate as if they were ready to discuss something very important. With a quick agreement, they decided to head back upstairs towards the seventh floor to resume their conversation.

 Chapter 90: Room Eighty Meets Again

    Chapter 90: Room Eighty Meets Again


    The apostles of Room Eighty gathered in the grand common area of the seventh floor, each adorned in the sleek black robes and silver badges that marked their new titles. The enchanted walls displayed sweeping views of the Bask region beyond the Tower. Still, the four barely noticed, too wrapped in recounting their recent experiences and the scars, both visible and hidden, they now bore from them.


    Nando started, a wry grin tugging at his lips, his eyes flickering with both pride and frustration. "That gargoyle wasn¡¯t just some mindless hunk of rock," he muttered, shaking his head. "It was smarter than we gave it credit for, reforming smaller and stronger every time we shattered it. That beast led us on a merry chase and cost us¡­ more than we expected." His voice dipped, remembering the losses they¡¯d suffered, an unspoken weight settling in the room. He shook off the memory, shooting a quick look at his friends. "But, hey, made us apostles, didn¡¯t it?"


    Sena nodded, his face hardened by the memories of the crystalline mine. ¡°We were neck-deep in those crystal creatures, the caves within the mines were riddled with them,¡± he said, his jaw clenching briefly. ¡°I thought we were finished more than once. But Apostle Wolf¡­¡± He shook his head in awe, the shadows casting sharp lines across his face. ¡°That guy''s on another level. Cut through those monsters like he was born for it. Without him, we¡¯d be done.¡±


    Isabella¡¯s calm voice broke through next, tinged with gratitude and a trace of exhaustion. "I agree, the mines nearly got us,¡± she murmured, her eyes distant. ¡°Wolf saved us countless times. I thought I¡¯d had it, too, until I saw him turn those creatures to dust like it was nothing." She drew a steady breath, and her gaze softened as she looked at the others. "But now that it¡¯s over, I hope I¡¯ll be stationed somewhere near home, closer to my family. It¡¯s been so long.¡± Her words hung in the air, a reminder that beneath their newfound power, they were still bound to those they¡¯d left behind.


    Sena grunted in response. "Home¡¯s not for me. I want to be where the action is. I¡¯ll pick a town where the fighting never stops. That¡¯s the only way to grow."


    "Is fighting all you care about?" Abel asked, his tone curious but not mocking. He¡¯d seen Sena''s thirst for battle before, but now they were apostles¡ªthere had to be more to it than just fighting.


    "Fighting¡¯s how I survive," Sena replied simply. "And how I get stronger."


    Abel glanced around the room. It was a far cry from their old dormitories. The lush carpets, the enchanting views, and the vastness of the space felt almost too much after the intense challenges they''d just survived. But his thoughts kept circling back to one thing: his village.


    "I want to go back," Abel said quietly. The others turned to him. "To my old village. I need to see if they¡¯re okay¡ªif my family is still there." His voice had an edge of vulnerability that hadn''t been there before.


    "Do you even know what¡¯s waiting for you there?" Ronald asked, his voice steady as he looked at Abel. "These places aren¡¯t the same as when you left. Not after what we¡¯ve been through. The world is constantly changing and so are the supernatural phenomena."


    "I know that," Abel replied, determination hardening his voice. "But I have to know. I have to see."


    Ronald nodded slightly. "I get it. But it won¡¯t be easy. We don¡¯t know what kind of threats are lurking out there, especially in the south. And let¡¯s be honest, we still don¡¯t understand everything about these... runes."


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    A weighted silence settled over the room, each member of Room Eighty caught in their own thoughts about the complexity of the path ahead. Runes were a mystery that lay at the heart of their advancement, guiding apostles toward new heights of power. Yet, only Ronald seemed to have a grasp on their nuances, having delved into gifted classes on mana and its deeper laws.


    ¡°For most of us, the rune system is still a mystery,¡± Nando muttered, breaking the silence. His expression was uncharacteristically serious. ¡°Being gifted makes things any easier, and for non-gifted like me... Well, figuring out how to make this work with our affinities isn¡¯t exactly straightforward. We might have our badges now, but there¡¯s a long way to go if we want to stand a chance against real threats.¡±


    Abel glanced at his own badge, the dragon emblem gleaming in the low, enchanted light. The image was bold, and it reminded him of the long line of apostles who had once stood where he now stood. "We¡¯ll figure it out," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "There has to be information on affinities beyond the main six. I mean, there must have been Magians in the past who were non-gifted, right?"


    Ronald nodded, his gaze contemplative. ¡°The human continent has a longer history than we¡¯re sometimes given credit for. It¡¯s true, our recent years might not match the great powers of the world, but even so, we¡¯ve discovered things¡ªlost them, maybe¡ªbut they¡¯re waiting to be found again.¡±


    The room collectively fell into thought. The dim light of the laboratory cast shadows across the walls, and the faint hum of magic was like a quiet, ever-present heartbeat in the room, a reminder of the power they sought to master.


    ¡°Sometimes I wonder what was lost along the way,¡± Abel said softly, staring into the distance as though he could see those ancient days for himself. "Power and knowledge that faded. But they left pieces behind. We¡¯ve just got to find them.¡±


    Nando shrugged, his signature smirk returning to soften the somber tone. ¡°Well, I¡¯m all for finding hidden power, just as long as we don¡¯t end up like those legends who got too close to it and¡­ well, you know.¡±


    Everyone chuckled, but there was an unspoken resolve in each of them. The mysteries of the Tower and the runes might be shrouded in history, but they were ready to face them, to uncover the truths that had been forgotten for too long.


    The conversation dwindled as each of them sat in their own quiet thoughts, the tension stretching through the room like a coiled spring. Then, the quiet was broken by a soft vibration from Nando¡¯s badge. He glanced down, his gaze sharpening as he read the message, and without a word, he rose from his seat.


    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s my turn,¡± he murmured, his usual smirk absent, replaced by an expression of calm resolve. He left the room, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving the others in a thick silence that seemed to amplify the pressure they all felt.


    Abel¡¯s eyes drifted to his own badge, the engraved dragon insignia shining in the dim light, a reminder of what awaited each of them. His thoughts tangled as he considered the weight of this new responsibility and the paths that lay ahead. The magnitude of their journey felt real now, a burden that had settled over them like an unshakable shadow.


    Ronald finally broke the silence, his voice a soft murmur. ¡°This is only the start. There are a few things that I want to research, something that might allow me to become more attuned to the ghastly world and allow it to complement his water technique better.¡±


    Isabella gave a faint nod. ¡°True. We¡¯ve already crossed a line we can¡¯t go back from. And I am the same way, the knowledge book that I had when we first joined the tower, might allow my affinity towards serpents and crystals to work together more seamlessly.¡±


    Abel inwardly nodded as he recalled the knowledge book he used to have and how much he wanted to expand his understanding of enchantments and inscriptions through the blood of magical beasts and their uniqueness. It could truly aid him in the future and add an extra edge to his techniques.


    They shared a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they had forged through their trials. Whatever the coming days held, they would face it together, bound by purpose and the weight of the journey they had chosen.

 Chapter 91: Reinhart

    Chapter 91: Reinhart


    Abel sat quietly in the Vice Tower Master¡¯s chambers, a large, ornate room adorned with tapestries and elegant furnishings that contrasted with the austere atmosphere of the rest of the Tower. The air was thick with an air of formality and subtle pressure. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls, while moonlight streamed through the large windows, bathing the room in a pale glow.


    Across from Abel sat the Vice Tower Master, a figure of undeniable authority. His regal gray robes, trimmed in gold, shimmered in the low light, and the dragon insignia on his chest gleamed with the fire¡¯s reflection. His blonde hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp blue eyes studied Abel with an intensity that made the young apostle shift slightly in his seat. Yet, despite his aura of power, there was a calm charisma about him, a warmth beneath the layers of his formidable presence.


    "You¡¯ve done well, Stargazer," the Vice Tower Master began, his voice smooth but laced with authority. "You¡¯ve caught my attention. Now, tell me about your background. Your full name, specifically."


    Abel hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the question. ¡°My name is Abel Noria,¡± he said, his voice steady, though his nerves buzzed beneath the surface.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s golden eyebrows lifted slightly, and his gaze sharpened. ¡°Noria, you say? Are you from the Noria family of the central region?¡±


    Abel blinked, his confusion evident. He shook his head slowly, unsure of what the Vice Tower Master was referring to. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean. I¡¯ve never been to the central region. I¡¯m from a small village called Duskton, near the black ravine which is what we called it in my village. It¡¯s¡­ far from here.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s expression softened slightly, disregarding his comment about the Noria family, though his surprise remained. ¡°Duskton?¡± he echoed, as though the name carried a weight of its own. ¡°That village is not part of our typical recruitment route. How, exactly, did you find your way into the Tower?¡±


    Abel took a deep breath and began to recount his journey, explaining how he had stumbled upon the Mossy Floater and the strange events that had led him to the Tower. He spoke of the hardship of leaving his village, of being thrust into this world of magic and danger without warning. As he spoke, a flicker of pity crossed the Vice Tower Master¡¯s face, but it was quickly replaced with his usual calm demeanor.


    ¡°I see,¡± the Vice Tower Master said thoughtfully, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his chair. ¡°Yours is a tragic story, Abel. But,¡± he continued, his voice hardening slightly, ¡°you must understand that your past hardships do not grant you special treatment here. The Tower is not a place for favoritism. You will be assigned where you are needed, not necessarily where you desire to go.¡±


    Abel¡¯s heart sank slightly at the words, though he tried not to show it. ¡°But¡­ is there any way I could be stationed near my old village? Just to check on my family? To see if they¡¯re alright?¡± His voice held a quiet urgency, the longing to return home clear in his tone.


    The Vice Tower Master regarded him with a measured gaze. ¡°I understand your desire to return, but Duskton is not under the Stone Tower¡¯s jurisdiction. It lies beyond our reach. However, I will not forbid you from traveling there, provided it does not interfere with your duties here and the town you''re overseeing. But remember,¡± his voice dropped slightly, ¡°your primary responsibility is to the Tower and the wider picture. You cannot let personal matters take precedence over that.¡±


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    Abel swallowed his disappointment but nodded. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± The Vice Tower Master leaned back in his chair, his demeanor softening again. ¡°You will be stationed in a town called Reinhart, to the southwest of the Tower, near the southern border of the Bask region. It¡¯s an up-and-coming town, quite beautiful from what I¡¯ve heard. Historically, the area has been safe, untouched by the dungeon corruption that plagues the southern territories. However, the recent influx of immigrants from other less fortunate villages in the far south has made things more difficult for the local authorities.¡±


    He paused, studying Abel¡¯s reaction before continuing. ¡°You will be working closely with the town mayor, ensuring his safety and that of the village. Your task will also involve investigating any strange magical phenomena in the area. There have been reports of strange sightings¡ªnothing confirmed yet, but we cannot take any chances.¡±


    Abel nodded slowly, processing the information. He was disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t be closer to Duskton, but the idea of being stationed in Reinhart didn¡¯t seem so bad for the moment. Besides, whenever he had the chance and power to do so, he would visit his family.But this was a new adventure, another step on his journey. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever is needed,¡± he said, his voice determined.


    ¡°There is one more thing,¡± the Vice Tower Master added, his tone turning more serious. ¡°You must keep your magical abilities hidden from the civilians as much as you can. Only the mayor is vaguely aware of our presence, and even then, his knowledge is limited. I understand that the town''s knowledge towards the world of magic is growing due to the introduction of Magical artifacts and with that more individuals touched by magic, however, we ask that even if you do use your magical abilities, remain coy. You will act as a protector, but from the shadows. The townspeople must not know of your powers unless absolutely necessary and even then leave room for possible reasoning that might explains some of the magical phenomena.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± Abel replied, though the thought of hiding his abilities felt strange to him. However, he was aware of how certain people will react once discovering that there is a vast magical world hidden in plain sight.


    The Vice Tower Master nodded, satisfied with Abel¡¯s response. ¡°In half a year, you will be assigned as the leader of an expedition. It is a rite of passage for apostles, leading the new recruits into the unknown. It is a dangerous task but necessary. Expeditions will help you grow¡ªboth in power and in knowledge.¡±


    Abel felt a surge of excitement at the mention of an expedition. He had always craved more understanding of his affinity for the stars, and the thought of exploring unknown territories thrilled him. ¡°I look forward to it,¡± he said, his voice brimming with anticipation.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s lips curled into a small smile. ¡°I thought you might. And there¡¯s more. Reinhart''s location is near Apostle Iron Knight, stationed in a nearby village toward the north about one hour or two away from yours by foot. I will give you his information later so that you can communicate through your Tower badge. There are a few other apostles stationed farther away, but I am sure you will meet them in time.¡±


    Abel nodded, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement as the Vice Tower Master continued. ¡°Reinhart was chosen for a reason,¡± he said, his voice lowering slightly, as if revealing a secret. ¡°There is an ancient, forgotten nomadic settlement near the village. Its history is tied to the stars, much like your affinity. You may find your talents¡­ useful in more ways than one. And I''m sure that your experience with the last nomadic ruin might give you an edge.¡±


    Abel¡¯s eyes widened at the implication, his heart racing with curiosity. The possibility of discovering more about his connection to the stars was tantalizing. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to uncover whatever I can,¡± he promised.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s gaze lingered on him for a moment, then he stood, signaling the end of their conversation. ¡°Good luck, Abel.¡±


    As Abel left the room, the weight of his new responsibilities settled on his shoulders, but so too did the excitement for what lay ahead. Reinhart, the stars, the forgotten settlement¡ªit all awaited him.

 Chapter 92: Quirk

    Chapter 92: Quirk


    The group from Room Eighty moved around the large laboratory, their eyes filled with curiosity and awe as they admired the various tools, convenient magical artifacts, and vast space that stretched before them. The lab was a marvel, its walls adorned with glowing glyphs that pulsed faintly, casting a soft light that illuminated every corner. Shelves lined with mysterious ingredients, glass vials, and ancient scrolls filled the room, their soft shimmer giving the place an aura of untapped potential.


    The group moved together, yet each was lost in their thoughts. Nando, always the most vocal of them, ran his hands across a table filled with strange devices. His expression was one of mild frustration. ¡°I can¡¯t believe they stuck me in some rundown mining town with greedy hopefuls,¡± he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance. ¡°It¡¯s dusty, ugly, and nothing worth looking at, since when have I been so unlucky.¡±


    Sena, on the other hand, was grinning, his excitement palpable. ¡°I¡¯m thrilled! My town is developing in the far south, close to the border. Plenty of action there¡ªI¡¯ll get to fight some real monsters.¡±


    Abel smiled at Sena¡¯s enthusiasm but added, ¡°I¡¯m stationed in Reinhart, in the southwest. It¡¯s not a huge village, but there¡¯s an old nomadic ruin nearby. I¡¯m looking forward to exploring it.¡± As he mentioned the ruins, a shiver ran through Ronald. He adjusted his glasses, the memory of their shared encounter with a similar ruin still fresh in his mind.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± Ronald said, his voice low and serious. ¡°You remember what happened last time. Those ruins hide things far worse than we expect.¡±


    Abel nodded in understanding, though a spark of curiosity flickered in his eyes. ¡°I know. But that¡¯s what excites me. There¡¯s so much more to learn.¡±


    Ronald sighed but didn¡¯t argue further. ¡°I¡¯ve been sent to a fishing town in the east. Nothing special, but there¡¯s a lot of water for me to work with.¡±


    Isabella, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. ¡°I¡¯ll be heading north,¡± she said, her voice calm and collected. ¡°There¡¯s an underground forest discovered near a small town up there. I¡¯ve been assigned to explore it, make sure nothing dangerous is lurking beneath.¡±


    As they continued to explore the lab, their conversation turned toward the logistics of their stationing. ¡°We¡¯ll still come back to the Tower regularly, right?¡± Abel asked, glancing at the others. ¡°We can meet here, at least once a month. Besides, I might be using these labs often.¡±


    The mood lightened as they shifted the conversation to their newfound strengths. Sena, always keen to discuss battle, glanced at Abel. ¡°That star of yours,¡± he said, ¡°it¡¯s fascinating. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it, we should spar one day, I want to see how strong the stars are.¡±


    Abel chuckled. ¡°The mana pool you have, which manifested into a scorching horn is intimidating dude,¡± he replied. ¡°But Ronald¡¯s ghastly water bubble is what really catches my eye.¡± He grinned and nodded toward Ronald. ¡°And I see you went with the nickname ¡®Lake Spirit.¡¯ Very fitting.¡±


    Ronald blushed slightly, embarrassed by the attention. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ it¡¯s better than nothing. Besides, it makes sense with my affinity¡­ I''m still getting used to the random whispers during the nighttime.¡±


    Isabella smiled, shifting the topic to herself. ¡°As for me,¡± she said, stroking the small snake coiled around her wrist, ¡°my mana pool has become my snake. It¡¯s one with me now, but this¡±¡ªshe gestured to the snake¡ª¡°is just a manifestation. The true mana pool is the mark on my cheek.¡±


    The others listened with interest as Isabella explained that the snake was a protective shell, able to change its size to assist her in combat, if destroyed, it would reform over time as long as she lived. ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± she admitted, ¡°but also reassuring. I feel¡­ connected¡­ just like Ronald, I struggle with my own issue or quirk and that is having two thoughts within my head. It can get confusing but as I progress we should be more in sync.¡±


    ¡°What is a quirk?¡± Sena asked.


    Isabella looks towards him and speaks,¡± It''s similar to the side effects that magic artifacts have. No power in this world comes free of consequence, although not as problematic as the side effects from artifacts they are still a permanent problem for all apostles. To some, it might become more intense when you rise the ranks, but as a Rank One Apostle, it shouldn''t be too much of an issue.¡±


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    Sena, Ronald, and Abel were listening keenly impressed by the information but also surprised that they hadn''t heard of this before. Nando smiled and tapped Isabella on the shoulder, ¡°I''m not surprised that a member of the Adder Family would know this information. Even big families overlook their quirks and neglect the fact that they possess one.¡±


    Isabella looked towards him curiously but smiled, ¡°Well our name precedes us, we are no longer a family of the central region.¡±


    ¡°Well, it''s all central region political crap. Hmph.¡± Nando said, crossing his arms and looking away with a dark face.


    Isabella chuckled, ¡°I''m sure your Andrade family knows a lot about it, you guys were in the central region even before mine, and now one of the most well-known in Bask.¡±


    Abel and Sena looked at one another as they obviously couldn''t relate as their family heads were simply mayors just now grasping the idea of magical artifacts, however, Nandos and Isabella''s family being knowledgeable in magic and being from the central region did not come as a shock, as they had showed knowledge about certain magical matters before. Ronald was a little different than the previous two but also different from Nando and Isabella as his family never had an apostle before but were aware of the world of magic.


    Abel began to put things together as finding out about quirks made him realize a dew things. He felt that having a quirk as an apostle wasn''t a rarity and it came in many different ways and it seemed to affect the individual uniquely. Sena seemed to itch for a battle at all times, Nando seemed to be very miserable at times, and so on. He felt his own quirk materializing the last few days as he felt alone, a sense of longing. Maybe due to his star not being in the sky amongst the others, maybe from him being away from his family, and maybe a combination of both. But he did feel as though quirks were more than just setbacks, maybe they were a way to progress and find a way forward.


    The group marveled at her ability again for a bit but soon turned their attention to Nando. Abel was the first to ask, ¡°What about your mana pool? What¡¯s the deal with that black heart of yours?¡±


    Nando¡¯s face darkened slightly, his eyes flickering with an emotion none of them could place. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated,¡± he began, his voice quieter than usual. ¡°The Tomb Walker I¡¯m aligned with had an affinity for Misery. It¡¯s dark, but it¡¯s powerful. Affinities can be abstract, you know?¡±


    The others looked at him, puzzled. ¡°Misery?¡± Ronald asked. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ an affinity?¡±


    Nando nodded. ¡°The more abstract the affinity, the harder it is to progress through the ranks. But it also means there¡¯s potential. I just have to figure out how to use it.¡±


    Abel couldn¡¯t help but wonder how difficult it would be to progress with his own star affinity. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll all have our challenges,¡± he muttered.


    The conversation lulled as they finished inspecting the lab, but their camaraderie didn¡¯t fade. As they left the lab and began walking toward their rooms, they passed several other newly promoted apostles. Among them were Tina and Jane, who both greeted Abel and Ronald with warm smiles. It was a strange sight¡ªTina, especially, had once been cold and distant.


    Nando and Sena exchanged confused glances. ¡°What¡¯s going on there?¡± Sena asked with a grin. ¡°Since when do they get along with you two?¡±


    Ronald, embarrassed, quickly dismissed any assumptions. ¡°It¡¯s nothing like that,¡± he said, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°We¡¯ve all grown closer through¡­ well, everything that¡¯s happened. We¡¯ve been through a lot together. Even Tina has changed. Our prejudices were broken down.¡±


    Nando chuckled and nudged Ronald with his elbow. ¡°Just as long as Edmund doesn¡¯t interact with me,¡± he joked. ¡°That guy¡¯s insufferable.¡±


    To their surprise, as they continued down the hall, they crossed paths with Edmund himself. He wore his new black apostle robe. His eyes briefly met theirs, and though the tension was palpable, Edmund gave them a curt nod of acknowledgment.


    Awkwardly, the group nodded back, exchanging looks of disbelief. They had expected some kind of confrontation, but instead, they were left with a strange sense of relief. Perhaps even Edmund had changed.


    They finally arrived at their rooms, each one spacious and grand, fit for royalty. Abel, in particular, was taken aback by the luxury. The room was far more lavish than anything he had ever known, especially when compared to the average-looking halls right on the other side of the door. The bed was large, draped in fine silk sheets, and the furniture was polished and elegant. A large window overlooked the Tower grounds, providing a view of the distant horizon.


    Despite the beauty of the room, Abel felt out of place. It was too grand, too luxurious for someone like him. Even his home back in Duskton, though comfortable, had been modest. As he sat on the edge of the bed, his thoughts drifted to the village he would soon be stationed in¡ªReinhart, a place full of unknowns and potential.


    With a deep sigh, Abel leaned back, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts of the future.

 Chapter 93: Guests

    Chapter 93: Guests


    Abel sat in his room, marveling at the luxurious space that was now his. He fondled the silver badge in his hand, its dragon insignia glinting faintly under the warm glow of the lamps. His mind drifted as he manipulated his starry mana, swirling it around the badge. As the mana flowed, a stream of information entered his mind¡ªcontacts from the Tower: Lake Spirit, Snake Witch, Crimson Titan, and Blackheart¡ªNando''s new nickname. Abel smirked. Blackheart? Really?


    Intrigued by the badge''s capabilities, he was tempted to test out its communication feature which allowed apostles to communicate with one another from far distances, but before he could do so, a sharp knock echoed from the door. Abel frowned, confused. They had all just separated¡ªwho could be visiting so soon? He got up and swung the door open. To his surprise, Agatha stood there, her pale face more defined under the warm lighting. She looked different from their last encounter, her sharp features softened by an awkward attempt at confidence. Her black hair still absorbed the light surrounding the hall, and her thin eyebrows were raised slightly.


    "Stargazer," she said, her voice wavering a bit. She extended her badge toward him, clearly trying to be composed but failing miserably. "I need your contact info."


    She wasn''t a girl of many words, and the fact that she hadn''t made many allies in the tower was evident as even amongst the gifted she was a mystery. Therefore, she seemed to be making a last attempt to acquire a few acquaintances that she could find a bit trustworthy and maybe rely on in the future.


    Abel blinked. He hadn''t expected this. They¡¯d barely exchanged words when he was a recruit in the tower. Still, he wasn¡¯t against her, he had never heard of an instance where she acted badly towards the nongifted, and to him it showed a lot of her personality and morals. "Uh, sure," he muttered, tapping his badge against hers. The contact info flashed through his mind¡ªher nickname was Lightless. He cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, watching as Agatha nodded, satisfied.


    For a moment, they stood there in awkward silence. Abel scratched the back of his head, unsure of what to say next. He wasn''t the most sociable outside of the usual five from Room Eighty, especially with the gifted recruits.  Agatha, equally uncomfortable, glanced at the floor and then back at him. "My village isn¡¯t too far from yours and it is also towards the southwest," she added, as if trying to fill the void. "I think we should¡­ keep in touch. You seem¡­ capable."


    "Uh, thanks," Abel responded, unsure how to process this sudden burst of formality. Agatha nodded once more, her attempt at confidence faltering entirely before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the hallway shadows without another word. She had obviously been touched by their last meeting and all of the rumors she had heard truly made her see Abel as a formidable person.


    Abel stood there, still processing what had just happened. That was... odd, he thought. He shrugged, closing the door behind him and moving back toward the center of the room. No sooner had he settled down than another knock echoed through the room.


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    He groaned. Who now?


    Opening the door, he found Tina standing there. Her usual stern expression was nowhere to be found, replaced by something much softer. "Hey," she greeted him, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Thanks again¡­ for everything. If it wasn''t for your efforts along with Apostle Gravedigger and Ronald I would''ve died."


    Abel¡¯s cheeks flushed. He didn¡¯t know what it was about these girls, but they were acting weirder than usual. "Uh, yeah. No problem, we all worked hard," he replied, trying to hide his confusion.


    Tina blushed a little herself and shifted awkwardly on her feet. "Mind exchanging contacts?"


    Abel considered rejecting the request, not wanting more awkward encounters, but something in Tina''s genuine demeanor made him change his mind. She had shown growth in her perception towards the nongifted, and to him that spoke volumes of her character. They tapped badges, and he caught her new nickname: Earth Sentry. She nodded, her face still tinged with red, and quickly walked away before things could get any more awkward.


    Abel closed the door once again, rubbing his temple. "What in the world is going on today?" he muttered to himself. Putting some mana into the badge once more and seeing more information enter his brain, but before he could even delve deep into this new information as if on cue, there was yet another knock.


    He let out a dramatic sigh. Really?


    Opening the door, he was greeted by Jane¡ªwho immediately launched herself at him in an enthusiastic hug. Abel flinched, his arms awkwardly hovering in the air as he tried to step back without completely shoving her away. "Oh! Sorry!" she stammered, pulling back, her face flushed with embarrassment. Why would I do that? He thought to herself feeling embarrassed at her lapse of judgment, as she did not consider anything else other than the fact that Abel had saved her life.


    "Uh, it¡¯s okay," Abel replied, mentally trying to recover from the sudden attack.


    "I just wanted to say thanks!" Jane beamed, her enthusiasm undeterred. "You really helped out during the expedition, I wouldn''t have been able to become an apostle without your heroics."


    Abel scratched the back of his head, still recovering from the hug. "I''m no hero, besides, it wasn''t just me. We all worked together." He stressed once more, wondering if Ronald was going through the same thing.


    "Yeah, but still. Here¡ªlet¡¯s exchange contacts!" she said, holding up her badge. Abel, too tired to resist at this point, tapped his badge against hers. Cold Breeze flashed in his mind as her nickname. He nodded, not entirely sure how to handle her bubbly energy.


    "Bye!" Jane called out, smiling brightly before bouncing off down the hallway.


    Abel closed the door behind her, this time locking it. He stood in silence for a few moments, letting out a long breath as he finally processed the bizarre string of visits.


    "That was¡­ something," he muttered to himself. He fell back onto his bed, the soft sheets embracing him as he stared up at the ceiling. The room was far too grand for his taste, the lavish furniture and spacious layout making him feel slightly out of place. Yet, it wasn¡¯t the room that had him feeling overwhelmed.


    He closed his eyes, letting the day¡¯s events wash over him. The new responsibilities as an apostle, the constant stream of surprises¡ªit was exhausting. As he lay there, trying to relax, a headache began creeping in. Soon followed by a lonely sensation that made his chest feel slightly heavier, It wasn''t an overwhelming feeling, however, it was enough to get him thinking.


    "Maybe I¡¯ll just¡­ stay in here for a while," he whispered to himself, hoping that peace would finally settle in.

 Chapter 94: Wall of Scrolls

    Chapter 94: Wall of Scrolls


    Abel sat on the edge of his bed, the silver badge in his hand reflecting the soft light of his room. His thoughts were a whirlwind, and the weight of his new responsibilities pressed down on him. He stared at the badge, knowing it represented so much more than just his title as an apostle. It connected him to the Tower, to the world of magic, and to his new life.


    His thoughts drifted to Reinhart, the village where he was about to be stationed. He¡¯d be living there, stationed as a secret protector under the guise of a mayor¡¯s guest and a worker in the mayor¡¯s office who occasionally would assist in the new library. The idea made him chuckle, as it almost felt like fate. It didn''t seem like anything too difficult. But he knew the position was just a cover, a way to integrate into the village without drawing attention to his magical abilities.


    He ran his fingers over the surface of the badge, feeling the cool metal against his skin. The Tower would transport him to Reinhart for his initial journey, but after that, he¡¯d be on his own. He needed a way to travel quickly between the Tower and the village, especially if he ever wanted to visit his family in Duskton, which lay far to the south. The thought of seeing his family again filled him with both hope and dread. He didn¡¯t even know if they were still there. The distance between Reinhart and Duskton was vast, and while his role at Reinhart would keep him busy, Abel couldn''t shake the thought that one day, he¡¯d make the journey back.


    But before any of that could happen, there was much to learn. Abel had originally planned to visit the library on the first floor, where Marcella resided, to research the stars, encryption, and the history of Reinhart. However, he¡¯d discovered that the lab¡¯s enchanted wall of scrolls could grant him the same access to this information if not more. Although it still lacked in comparison to the Library of the Giants, but that was the Tower Master¡¯s personal library and only he himself could go in and out as he pleased.


    He still could use contribution points to return to the Library of Giants, which was part of his future plans as the knowledge books could be very useful even as an Apostle due to the diverse information it possessed. He still had some contribution points remaining from when he was a recruit, and he would receive an allowance of a certain amount of contribution points while he was stationed in Reinhart, therefore, he would save and use the contribution points when he returned to the tower next.


    In the meantime, using the wall of scrolls came at a cost though even if it wasn''t contribution points. Mana was required to activate the wall¡¯s magic, draining more the longer he used it. This resource wasn¡¯t available to recruits who had no way to store mana as they lacked a mana pool, but now that Abel had one, he could use it freely. And use it he did.


    Abel stood in quiet awe, his fingertips brushing the ancient scrolls embedded within the wall. His black Apostle robe fluttered, as though stirred by an unseen current emanating from the wall itself, the air thickening with energy. Gradually, a faint bluish glow spread from the scrolls, as fragments of light began detaching and circling, like moons drifting away from their orbit. Slowly, the light coalesced before him, forming lines of text that shimmered with knowledge yet unseen. The scene looked otherworldly and Abel could only think back at what the old Abel or even his family would think seeing such a thing. I probably would think I''m dreaming.


    For days, Abel remained engrossed in his research, diving into ancient texts about the stars and constellations. He wanted to understand his star affinity better, as well as the significance of the area around Reinhart and the nomadic ruins nearby. His studies revealed that the star affinity was rare, but not without its dangers.


    One passage mentioned that those attuned to the stars must tread carefully, for the cosmos held horrors beyond comprehension, they gave examples of certain areas in the sky to stay away from, dark parts of the void strange otherworldly manifestations full of destruction and horrors. Abel found the idea unsettling, yet intriguing.


    His research also revealed that an apostle with the star affinity would be connected to a star in the sky having their own position in this world, becoming attuned to it. But Abel¡¯s situation was unique. His ethereal star didn¡¯t seem to belong to this world, and there was no visible star in the sky tied to his power. This fact left him puzzled, unsure of what it meant for his future as an Apostle. He couldn¡¯t find any answers in the texts, but one thing was clear: if he wanted to become a Magian, he would need to look toward the constellations and how the stars within them worked in tangent. All of the information he was now taking in would''ve taken a large sum of contribution points on the first floor.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Abel also uncovered more information about the nomads who once roamed the land near Reinhart. The ruins he was about to investigate were connected to the nomadic ruins he had encountered during the expedition¡ªboth were part of the Star Walker Nomads, a tribe that followed the stars in search of fortune and guidance. This revelation filled Abel with a sense of purpose. There was more to his journey than just protecting the village. The nomads had a connection to the stars, just like him. Perhaps exploring these ruins would unlock answers about his affinity.


    Abel had also taken note of three stars in the sky, the Mareka star that was always glowing in the northern direction, the Vareth Star towards the east, and the Edryss star toward the West. These three stars were usually the brightest in the sky, and used by certain nomads for guidance through the world. There seemed to be some illusive information on the brightest star of old towards the southern skies but it is said to have ceased to exist after being around since ancient times.


    As he continued reading, Abel learned more about the Bask region itself. Reinhart, though located in the southern part of Bask, wasn¡¯t too close to the border compared to the other towns where he could have been stationed. It was a pretty area, not as heavily forested as the land surrounding the Tower, and despite its rapid growth, it had been historically safe. The closest dungeon was still farther to the south, yet there were always other dangers to consider. Strange sightings had been reported, and it would be Abel¡¯s job to investigate any magical phenomena in the area.


    He sighed, taking a moment to digest everything. The wall of scrolls was a remarkable resource, but it was draining his mana faster than he¡¯d anticipated. He needed to pace himself. He was aware of the dangers of overusing the mana within his mana pool, as an Apostle with a damaged mana pool had no future, staying stagnant in power for life. There was still time before he would leave for Reinhart, but Abel wanted to absorb as much information as possible before he set off. His mind buzzed with thoughts of the village, the nomads, and the unknown challenges that awaited him. There was so much to learn, and the more he uncovered, the more questions seemed to arise.


    The room was quiet except for the soft hum of magic from the wall of scrolls. Abel looked around, appreciating the beauty and elegance of his new surroundings. The Tower had provided him with luxuries he could have never imagined in Duskton. But despite the grandeur of his room, he felt a sense of unease. Reinhart would be his home for the foreseeable future, and while the prospect excited him, it also felt like stepping into the unknown.


    As his thoughts wandered, Abel stood up and walked to the window. The view outside was breathtaking¡ªthe landscape bathed in the soft glow of twilight, with the distant mountains casting long shadows over the horizon. The world felt vast, and for the first time, Abel truly understood the scope of his journey. He was no longer just a recruit. He was an apostle now, with responsibilities that stretched far beyond what he had ever imagined.


    There was a knock at the door, pulling Abel from his reverie. He opened it to find a small pink jellyfish floating in the air delicately, holding a sealed letter. "Your instructions for Reinhart, Apostle Stargazer," the messenger said, its voice faint with a high pitch but understandable, handing him the letter before spinning in the air and leaving without another word. The scene almost shocked Abel, but with all the strangeness in this world, this wasn''t out of his expectations.


    Abel closed the door and opened the letter. Inside were the final details of his assignment. The town mayor also believed Abel was arriving as a secretive guard, tasked with protecting both the mayor and the village while secretly investigating any magical threats, although Abel''s capabilities were left as a mystery for the mayor. The letter also mentioned that Abel would be working closely with the head of law enforcement to maintain order, though the specifics of his role would remain hidden from the public.


    He had received a detailed report on some of the important people he would keep an eye out for, particularly two big families, the Usman family, and the Murman Family who were quickly gaining power in the town as well as being associated with rumors of strange happenings. He was also given some information on parts of the surrounding area near the town that also had magical influences and he needed to investigate over time.


    As he read on, Abel learned that Reinhart was rapidly growing, with new homes and buildings being constructed to accommodate the influx of immigrants. The village was already becoming a much more bustling town, and with that growth came new challenges.


    He smiled as he read the final line of the letter. He would be receiving a permanent residence in the town¡ªa place to call his own. It was a far cry from the humble home he had grown up in, but it would serve as his base of operations for the foreseeable future.


    Abel folded the letter and placed it on his desk. The next chapter of his life was about to begin, and he was determined to face it head-on. There was so much to uncover in Reinhart¡ªsecrets tied to both the village¡¯s future and his own destiny. And though the path ahead was uncertain, Abel felt ready to take the first step.

 Chapter 95: A New Beginning

    Chapter 95: A New Beginning


    Abel stood by the window, gazing at the vast expanse outside, his thoughts a swirl of excitement and uncertainty. Over the past few days, he had devoted himself to studying from the wall of scrolls in his lab. The magical archives had proven to be an invaluable source of knowledge, and it wasn¡¯t just Abel who felt this way¡ªevery new apostle in the Tower seemed to be engrossed in their personal studies, eagerly absorbing the free-flowing information before being sent out to their station. For the new apostles, this knowledge was a gift, an essential tool to survive and thrive in their new roles.


    But today was different. Today marked the beginning of a new chapter in Abel''s life. It was time to leave the Tower and head to his new assignment in Reinhart Village. With a sigh, he looked at his silver badge, feeling the weight of responsibility resting upon him. His starry mana swirled around it, activating its magical properties. The badge had already provided him with some valuable contacts, but he had yet to fully explore its capabilities.


    Abel packed his few belongings in a small bag, a quiet determination settling over him. He had spent days preparing, but now, faced with the reality of leaving, a strange blend of excitement and apprehension churned in his gut. With a final look around his room, he made his way out. The halls were eerily silent. Most of the other apostles were either still deep in their studies or had already departed to their respective villages. The solitude weighed on him, but he brushed it off¡ªthere was no turning back now.


    As Abel descended the Tower, he was met by the stoic figure of the overseer who had seen him rise from a mere recruit to an apostle. The Overeer¡¯s expression was, as usual, unreadable, but his eyes held a glint of respect.


    "Stargazer," The Overseer greeted with a firm nod. "Ready for your journey?"


    Abel returned the nod, though his heart raced with anticipation. "I am, sir."


    "Good," the overseer said, his voice low and steady. "I¡¯ll be leading you to your transportation. Follow me."


    Curiosity gnawed at Abel, but he held his questions as they walked through the Tower''s massive stone corridors. After a few moments, he couldn¡¯t help but ask. "What kind of transportation am I taking, exactly?"


    The overseer¡¯s lips twitched, a rare hint of amusement crossing his usually stern face. "You¡¯ll see soon enough."


    After what felt like an eternity of walking, they reached the outer courtyard. As the stone doors groaned open, revealing the open sky, they entered the forest and proceeded to walk through the trees, the overseer moved with purpose as Abel followed. This time the forest no longer felt oppressive, and instead, it felt almost like a calm safe place. Nothing seemed to lurk or watch them, as their presence alone made sure any lowly creature would avoid their path. They kept on walking for a while longer until reaching an opening inside of the forest and Abel froze in shock.


    Floating serenely before him was a massive, glowing purple jellyfish¡ªa creature unlike anything he had ever seen. Its translucent body shimmered with a faint glow, and its small stingers drifted lazily in the air. It was massive, easily the size of a house, and its small tendrils tick, almost looking like translucent toes underneath. The body was see-through and the clouds in the sky could still be seen through the jellyfish almost like purple-tinted glasses. The grass and stones on the ground beneath the jellyfish reflected the purple light emitted by the giant above.


    "What is that?" Abel muttered, eyes wide in amazement, purple light reflected off his face, as he tilted his head upwards.


    "The Big Jelly," The overseer replied matter-of-factly. "The Tower Master¡¯s own creation. It¡¯s how you¡¯ll be traveling."


    The jellyfish began to descend slowly, making the purple light that reflected off the ground and Abel''s face more intense.


    Abel stared in disbelief. He had heard of magical creatures used for transportation, flying birds, and underground worms, but nothing quite like this. He didn¡¯t know whether to be terrified or impressed. As he took a hesitant step forward, The overseer¡¯s patience waned. He had other apostles to guide, and he had a schedule to keep. With a swift motion, he pushed Abel straight into the jellyfish¡¯s body.


    Abel tumbled inside, his heart racing as he found himself floating within the jelly-like substance. For a moment, panic set in, but the sensation wasn¡¯t uncomfortable¡ªin fact, it was strangely soothing, like being cradled by water. He couldn''t feel the wind, or hear the sound of trees rustling outside, instead, his body felt a warmth that covered him in comfort.


    Before he could fully comprehend what had just happened, the jellyfish began to ascend. Abel¡¯s breath caught in his throat as the ground fell away, and he was lifted high into the air. He felt weightless, the sensation of flying unlike anything he had ever experienced. The Tower shrank below him as they drifted higher, and for a moment, all his worries melted away as he marveled at the beauty of the landscape. His stomach sunk further as the Big Jelly pierced through the clouds stopping momentarily to shift its body, allowing Abel to witness the clouds moving slowly beneath him like a white sea, as the rays of sunlight covered the clouds in an ethereal layer of gold. Incredible. Abel thought, as simultaneously the Big Jelly moved in a flash above the clouds and towards Reinhart Town.


    <hr>


    Reinhart Town was bustling with life. The streets were paved with neatly arranged cobblestone, and the houses had a distinct charm¡ªa blend of medieval architecture with artful enhancements, each building seemingly crafted with care. The village was alive with activity as people went about their daily routines. In the market district, stalls lined the roads, filled with colorful wares, fruits, and goods from across the region. Vendors shouted out prices, and the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air. There was a sense of prosperity in the town, yet underneath it, a subtle tension seemed to linger.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    In one of the more lavish homes on First Street, a meeting was taking place. The room was wide and furnished with finely crafted furniture covered in floral patterns. Mayor Elliot, a tall, refined man dressed in noble robes, stood before a gathering of Reinhart¡¯s key figures. His brow furrowed slightly as he addressed the room. Next to him stood Burt, the head of law enforcement, a grizzled man with a no-nonsense demeanor. Burt wore durable, deep-gray leather tunics, reinforced at the shoulders and elbows with stitched padding, and a slim leather belt with polished metal buckles carrying basic equipment and a short sword. Bellow the belt he wore dark trousers and sturdy boots, laced high and weather-resistant. Vander, the wealthiest merchant in town, sat across from them, listening intently and so did some of the heads of the other bigger families.


    Mayor Elliot sat behind his desk, addressing the gathered nobles with measured authority. "We have a special guest arriving soon," he began. "This individual has connections to an influential organization in Bask."


    Vander, the stout merchant, shifted uneasily. "And what does this guest want from Reinhart? We''ve had one of these before¡ªan ''advisor'' someone sent to support our growth at that time but instead, he was someone who drained our resources, then left us with nothing but promises."


    Other nobles nodded in agreement, still bitter from past experiences. The arrival of the previous "advisor" had left a sour taste, and they were not eager to welcome another stranger who might meddle in the town¡¯s affairs.


    "This one will be different, The previous guest arrived under different orders, in addition to the fact that the last guest was almost two years ago," Elliot assured, though the doubt was clear on the nobles¡¯ faces.


    One of the noblemen, a tall, gray-haired figure named Lord Hadrick, leaned forward, his voice low with skepticism. "And what exactly is he supposed to help with, Mayor? These strange occurrences you speak of¡ªrandom disappearances, sudden outbreaks of sickness. We don¡¯t even know what¡¯s causing them. How is this guest supposed to provide any answers?"


    Burt, the head of law enforcement, stood silently beside the mayor, his muscular arms crossed. Despite his stoic expression, he shared the same doubts as the others. The village had been dealing with strange happenings for months now¡ªfarmers complaining of livestock going missing, houses mysteriously catching fire, and villagers reporting odd shadows in the woods. But Burt wasn¡¯t ready to jump to conclusions. The very idea of magic might cause many of the townspeople to be terrified it felt too surreal, almost like a fairy tale, even though he had noticed strange patterns emerging, he hoped it wasn''t anything that could truly hurt the people of Reinhart.


    "He¡¯ll work in one of our departments within my office, I am told the guest possesses keen eyes and would be assisting in certain investigations. He will also take some of his time to help manage the new library in our town," Elliot continued, ignoring the growing murmurs of doubt. "He¡¯s an expert in... well, many things. He¡¯ll help ensure the town continues to grow safely."


    "An expert?" Vander cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What kind of expertise could possibly help us with the unexplained? We don¡¯t even know what we¡¯re dealing with! For all we know, this could be something natural¡ªa disease, A crazed individual, or a series of unfortunate events. You¡¯re pinning our hopes on a stranger when we can¡¯t even say for sure what¡¯s going wrong."


    Several nobles nodded in agreement, and even Burt remained silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation. The mystery behind the town¡¯s problems was still unresolved, and bringing in an outsider didn¡¯t sit well with him either. He had been working in law enforcement for years and had seen the town¡¯s fair share of troubles, but nothing like this. And this "guest" from a Bask organization seemed like another gamble.


    Elliot, aware of their growing apprehension, maintained his composure. "This guest will be here to observe, investigate, and provide any insight. We don¡¯t have all the answers, that¡¯s true. But that¡¯s exactly why we need outside help. We can''t sit here and remain unaware, and incapable."


    Burt finally spoke up, his voice deep and commanding. "With all due respect Mr. Elliot I¡¯m not entirely convinced either. We¡¯ve handled our problems just fine befoe¡ªespecially without outsiders meddling in our business. The previous guest promised to fix things too, and look where that got us."


    Elliot¡¯s tone softened, but he remained firm. "I understand your reservations. But this time will be different. The town is expanding, and with that growth comes challenges we might not be fully equipped to deal with. We¡¯ve already had several incidents¡ªunexplained, yes¡ªbut I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s just bad luck. Something is happening, and we need to be prepared. This guest may have the resources or knowledge to help us. If we don''t address these issues now, they could grow beyond our control."


    The nobles exchanged wary glances, still unconvinced but unwilling to challenge the mayor directly. They respected Elliot for his leadership and the fact that Reinhart had thrived under his guidance, but their distrust of outsiders lingered.


    Vander finally spoke up again, though his tone remained doubtful. "Well, if it¡¯s already decided, we can only wait and see. But mark my words¡ªif this guest turns out like the last one, it¡¯ll be on your head, Elliot. The town can¡¯t afford another misstep."


    Elliot nodded, accepting the challenge in Vander¡¯s voice, though his own expression remained neutral. "Understood."


    After the meeting adjourned, Elliot turned to Burt as they stood alone. "We can¡¯t let the town fall apart," the mayor said quietly, his earlier confidence slipping away.


    Burt sighed, leaning against the desk. "You¡¯re taking a risk, Elliot. The people don¡¯t trust outsiders, and frankly, neither do I. But if there¡¯s more to these incidents than meets the eye¡­ maybe we do need someone who knows what to look for."


    The mayor nodded, his eyes distant with thought. "I just hope we aren¡¯t too late."


    <hr>


    As Abel¡¯s journey aboard the jellyfish drew to a close, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. The village of Reinhart appeared on the horizon, nestled among rolling hills and lush forests. The sight was beautiful and serene, but there was a strange energy about it¡ªa sense that something was just beneath the surface, waiting.


    The jellyfish began to descend, and Abel¡¯s heart raced. This would be his home, his base of operations. But more than that, it was the start of a new chapter¡ªone filled with mystery, duty, and danger. As the creature touched down gently on the outskirts of Reinhart, Abel stepped out, taking a deep breath as he prepared to face whatever awaited him.


    For better or worse, his journey had only just begun.

 Chapter 96: The Town

    Chapter 96: The Town


    Abel strolled down the bustling streets of Reinhart, his eyes wide with curiosity. The air smelled of fresh bread and blooming flowers, mingling with the distant scent of freshly cut wood. For those with allergies to pollen, this place would be quite the problem as the town''s relationship with flowers seemed to be historic. It was a lively, organized town¡ªfar larger and more sophisticated than Duskton, his home village. He marveled at how much the town seemed to be growing, stretching beyond anything that those who first found this land imagined.


    As he walked, the sound of his boots clicking against the cobblestone road echoed through the air. The streets here were well-maintained, the stones polished and laid out meticulously. He found himself on First Street, the largest and widest of the village¡¯s thoroughfares. Its sheer size was impressive¡ªwide enough for four caravans to travel side by side, and framed by tall, elegant homes with gated courtyards. The houses along this street were a far cry from the modest structures in Duskton; they were grand, each one adorned with intricate designs on the gates, carved stone walls, and flourishing gardens.


    Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit out of place. The homes exuded wealth, and the air carried a sense of exclusivity and superiority. Guards stood in front of several gates, their sharp eyes scanning the streets. They wore light armor that depicted different insignias and on their hip hung a sheathed knife. Weapons weren''t illegal to carry, however, unsheathing one required a justification. Otherwise, pulling out a weapon could deemed a crime in Reinhart, and the individual would be handled by the Enforcement Officers. Even so, the town was welcoming in its own way, with shopkeepers calling out to passersby and customers milling about in the markets.


    He stayed on the side of the street facing the huge mansions, walking past the shops that lined First Street: jewelers, tailors, and various antique stores that displayed their finest goods in glittering windows. The prices ranged from one thousand coins to ten thousand coins, which felt pricey but Abel understood that those living across the street saw no issue with the pricing. He paused for a moment outside a jeweler''s, where ornate necklaces and rings sparkled under the sunlight. Abel chuckled to himself, wondering if the Tower would ever let him indulge in such luxuries.


    As he continued down the street, Abel noticed that the village had grown in a purposeful design from the street placements to their names. First and Fifth Streets were the largest and on opposite sides of the town, while smaller roads connected them vertically, dividing the town into neat blocks. He turned onto Oak Street, one of the smaller roads leading away from First Street.


    Oak Street was lined with family-run businesses, and the atmosphere was immediately different¡ªmore intimate, and less polished than First Street. He passed a butcher shop where the scent of fresh meat wafted into the air, the butcher wiping his hands on a stained apron while chatting with a customer. Nearby, a tailor worked diligently on a new garment in the window of her shop, her needle moving with quick precision. The whole street buzzed with activity, people coming and going, chatting, laughing, and making deals. A real community vibe exuded from Oak Street, from First and Oak Street to Second and Oak Stree, all the way down to Fifth and Oak. The smaller streets referred to as "side streets" stretched perpendicular to First and Fifth St, but a fraction of the size. Second, Third, and Fourth stretched across the town. Walking down Oak Street he would look down these side streets but they weren''t as eventful, with people using them to reach the main streets faster.


    Next, after reaching Fith and Oak St, Abel turned down Chestnut St. The homes were more modest, but the sense of community was palpable even more so than Oak St. Children ran down the cobblestone paths, laughing and playing games, their carefree joy contagious. As Abel passed some of the people standing outside of their doors, they would nod to him with friendly smiles. Abel watched as a small caravan trundled by, its driver waving to a family who stood outside their home, the smell of stew wafting from their open windows. Chestnut Street felt warm, alive with the rhythms of family life. As he walked Abel didn''t even notice a warm smile on his face, as it felt natural to him walking down Chestnut St.


    He continued, making his way to Chestnut and First St, welcomed by the extravagant homes once again, He proceeded to turn over the corner to Walnut Street, the center of Reinhart¡¯s market district. Here, the air was filled with the sounds of haggling merchants, shouting out the prices of their wares. Abel could hear the clinking of coins and the rustling of sacks as townsfolk purchased goods.


    "Come get your Pink Flowers! The dance is not too far away!" A voice came from the side as a man raised a fist full of pink flowers.


    "Gray Rice going out fast, only three bags remaining!" A woman yelled.


    People rushed about, some carrying baskets of vegetables or bags of grain, while others crowded around stalls selling exotic spices, leather goods, flowers, and finely crafted tools. The prices here were much more sensible as items varied from one to one hundred coins. The people selling and buying here were modest and honest folk, as the men wore cotton shirts in earthly colors, mostly olive and brown, while women wore blouses. One thing that Abel noticed was the detail many of their clothing possessed as flowers and plant-like patterns were sewn in various parts of their clothing, as it flapped in the wind due to their quick movements through the market. It was organized chaos, but there was a charm to it, a sense of a thriving community.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Next, Abel found himself on Pine Street, where essential services like the town¡¯s medical building, the enforcement office, and the school were located. The buildings here seemed to be the tallest in the town as the smallest one was at least two stories high The library, which sat proudly at the far end of Pine Street near Fifth Street, caught his eye. Modest yet beautiful, the building was made of smooth, light stone with ivy creeping up its walls. The arched windows gave it an almost serene, timeless look, and the large wooden doors were polished to a gleam. Abel made a mental note to visit soon¡ªhe would need to familiarize himself with this place, after all.


    Caravans passed through the cobblestone streets here frequently, although less frequently than First and Fifth St. People who walked on the sidewalks of these streets didn''t talk much as they had a purpose in each step heading to a building in Pine St. The Town Hall where the mayor stayed was crafted from the town¡¯s own stone and brick, it presented a sturdy yet inviting presence in the heart of the village. Its symmetrical structure and broad, arching entrance convey a welcoming formality. The exterior features a garden flourishing with native flowers, symbolizing the town¡¯s deep-rooted pride and tradition.


    Another building stood out to Abel; the Reinhart Enforcement Office was a no-nonsense structure that commanded respect without excessive grandeur. Constructed from gray stone and fortified wood, its facade looked sturdy, with thick walls and high, narrow windows designed for both practicality and security. If Chestnut St, gave Abel the feeling of community, Pine St gave off a serious, more purposeful vibe.


    Finally, Abel turned onto Maple Street, which carried a livelier, almost bohemian energy he hadn¡¯t yet felt in Reinhart. He stopped to watch the unusual scene unfold around him. Unlike the quiet, orderly street he¡¯d just walked through, this one had buildings that expanded along the cobblestone paths, each filled with homes called "apartments." Abel overheard a young man passing by, speaking with his friend in an excited tone.


    "Meet you back at the apartment?" he asked with a grin.


    "Yeah," the friend replied, adjusting his hat. "Gotta drop off my stuff. Then let¡¯s grab something to eat."


    Abel took in the sight of the bustling crowd¡ªmostly younger people, chatting and laughing as they moved in and out of the buildings. They wore bright, colorful outfits, each person¡¯s hat seeming to reflect a different style. Abel noted how everyone sported these hats, with wide brims, feathers, ribbons, or even curious fabrics. A small group of friends emerged from an apartment doorway, their laughter ringing out as they started down the street.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try that new place on Second Street!¡± one of them suggested, pointing down the way.


    The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, mingling with the cheerful sounds of clinking glasses and lively chatter from nearby eateries. Abel watched them head toward a bustling restaurant, intrigued by the lively scene and by how different this corner of Reinhart felt from anywhere he¡¯d seen so far.


    The apartments fascinated him. Why would people choose to live so close to one another like this? It was a far cry from the open spaces and quiet solitude of Duskton. But here, it seemed to be the norm¡ªyoung professionals, families, and even some older residents choosing this bustling, close-knit life. Abel couldn¡¯t help but wonder what it would be like to live in such a place, surrounded by so many people every day.


    By the time he reached Fifth Street, he had a much clearer picture of Reinhart. Fifth Street was just as wide as First, but on this side of the village, there was much more construction. New homes and buildings were being built or recently done, their foundations freshly laid, and workers bustled about, hammering nails and carrying lumber. The expansion of Reinhart was obvious, with streets like Third and Maple being extended as new roads branched off. It was clear that Reinhart was growing, and fast.


    Abel headed toward Pine Street, where the mayor¡¯s office was located. As he approached the large stone building at the corner of Pine and Third, two guards stood at the entrance. Their uniforms were well-kept, and they watched Abel carefully as he approached.


    "Halt," one of them said, stepping forward. "State your business."


    "Abel Noria," Abel replied confidently, "I¡¯m here to meet with Mayor Elliot."


    The guards exchanged glances, their eyes widening slightly at the mention of his name. "Ah, my apologies, young master Noria," one of them said quickly, stepping aside. "We were told to expect you. Please, follow me."


    Abel nodded and followed the guard into the building, the stone halls echoing with their footsteps. The air inside was cool, and the scent of freshly polished wood lingered in the air. The mayor¡¯s office was grand, with high ceilings and large windows that let in the warm afternoon light. Abel couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of importance as he was led toward the mayor¡¯s door.


    The guard knocked, and a deep voice called out from inside. "Enter."


    Abel stepped into the room and was greeted by the sight of Mayor Elliot, a tall man with graying hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. He wore fine robes and stood behind a large oak desk, flanked by maps of Reinhart and the surrounding region.


    "Ah, Abel Noria," the mayor said with a smile, stepping forward to shake his hand. "Welcome to Reinhart. We¡¯ve been expecting you.

 Chapter 97: Welcoming

    Chapter 97: Welcoming


    Abel entered the mayor''s office, feeling the weight of the new chapter in his life settling in. The room was well-furnished, filled with wooden furniture that emitted a faint scent of polished oak, giving the space a comfortable yet authoritative air. Behind a large desk sat Mayor Elliot, a tall man with graying hair and sharp features. Standing beside him was Burt, the head of law enforcement, a man who exuded vitality despite his middle age. Both men had an air of authority, but Abel noticed something else: a faint aura of magic, indicating they had magical artifacts. This intrigued him, as only the wealthier nobles or certain high-ranking individuals understood the power of mana or possessed such artifacts.


    Mayor Elliot smiled as Abel entered, his eyes momentarily lingering on Abel¡¯s apostle robes and the knife that hung by his side which occasionally was hidden by the robe. However, he seemed to lack a full understanding of their significance. The mayor rose to shake his hand, his voice warm. ¡°Abel Noria, welcome to Reinhart. It¡¯s a pleasure to have you here in our town. We¡¯ve heard quite a bit about you.¡±


    Burt extended his hand as well, his grip firm and steady. ¡°I¡¯m Burt, head of law enforcement. We¡¯re glad to have someone of your... expertise around.¡± His tone was respectful, but there was a subtle weight behind his words, hinting at the challenges ahead. Burt was no stranger to chaos and issues as he had delt with plenty in his many years working with the enforcement office, and he hoped this guest wouldn''t add to hi list of issues.


    Abel smiled politely, shaking both men¡¯s hands and taking a seat. ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure to be here. The town is beautiful.¡±


    The mayor beamed at the compliment, clearly proud of his town. ¡°Reinhart is growing fast, as you can see. It wasn¡¯t always like this. People came here for the flowers¡ªReinhart flower, to be specific. It¡¯s rare, and its beauty brought people from far and wide. Now, we¡¯re an up-and-coming village, nearly a town, and we¡¯re building for the future. We hope to create something similar to those huge cities in the central region one day.¡±


    Abel nodded, taking in the mayor¡¯s words. The more Elliot spoke, the more Abel could sense the ambition that drove him. This wasn¡¯t just a simple village expansion; there were larger goals at play.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll come to enjoy your time here,¡± Mayor Elliot continued. ¡°You¡¯ll be staying in the Lully Grove Villa on First and Oak Street for the time being. In the coming week, you¡¯ll be able to choose an estate on Fifth Street.¡±


    Abel raised his eyebrows slightly at this. A villa jut for himelf? That was certainly a luxury he hadn¡¯t anticipated. "Thank you, that sounds... wonderful."


    Burt leaned forward, his expression more serious. ¡°Once you¡¯re settled, we¡¯ll have you come down to the Reinhart enforcement building. It¡¯s on Pine and Second Street. I¡¯ll give you a rundown of everything that¡¯s been happening¡ªthe town¡¯s growth, the strange occurrences, and the people you need to keep an eye on.¡±


    Abel nodded, appreciating the straightforwardness. He would need to familiarize himself with everything quickly. ¡°I look forward to it.¡±


    As they spoke, Abel couldn''t help but notice the short sword hanging from Burt''s waist. It wasn''t an ornamental piece¡ªit was well-maintained and seemed to hum faintly with energy, as if it had seen real battle. Abel made a mental note of it, his curiosity piqued.


    ¡°You¡¯ll also be working closely with the mayor¡¯s office and my Fuzon family,¡± Elliot added. ¡°Reinhart¡¯s in a transitional period. With more people moving in, especially immigrants from other parts of Bask, we need someone with your... talents. There have been some magical disturbances lately, things our normal people can¡¯t explain.¡±


    Although Elliot was aware that Abel was arriving from a powerful organization within the Bask region, he didn''t know the intricacies and how much power an organization like the Stone Tower possessed.


    Abel¡¯s attention sharpened at the mention of disturbances. It seemed his work here would be more complicated than he initially thought. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m here to help with whatever you need.¡±


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    The mayor gave a nod of approval, his eyes sincere yet filled with a glimmer of something more¡ªperhaps the weight of his ambition to grow Reinhart even further. Burt, on the other hand, looked more cautious, as if sizing Abel up.


    Elliot had a guest before sent by the Tower, the guest was able to delve into magic, which Elliot and his Fuzon family had been trying to learn of for centuries, but have never gotten far into understanding much about it. He possessed his own personal library and items that delved into the history of certain people and their possible relation to magic, as he was a stout fan of magic.


    The previous guest stayed for three years, and although he was knowledgeable in magic, his prowess wasn''t impressive. He was physically inept and seemed to stay reserved and mysterious, he had chosen a small hut on the outside of the village back then before the expansion and didn''t interact with the village much. At that time the village was dealing with range flora that were terrorizing the locals but over time that issue came to a halt, and Mayor Elliot assumed that the guest took care of that issue. Obviously, these guests seem to have a different purpose each time, however, Elliot hoped that this guest was at least capable and may be willing to satisfy his magical obsession.


    Magical Artifacts were no longer a secret within the bigger families of Reinhart, however, their dangers and unpredictability had yet to impact these families making them more wary and careful.


    At that moment, the mayor called out, ¡°Jet!¡±


    The door opened, and a young man entered. He was tall and well-built, wearing finely tailored clothes that hinted at his noble upbringing. His hair was dark, and his features were sharp, not unlike his father¡¯s. A small olive hat sat on his head with a colorful flower sewn on the side. He greeted Abel with a firm handshake, his tone polite. ¡°I¡¯m Jet Fuzon, the mayor¡¯s son. I¡¯ll be showing you to the villa and helping you settle within Reinhart.¡±


    Abel smiled and shook his hand. Jet looked to be around the same age as him, though there was a confidence in the way he carried himself¡ªlikely from his noble background. Yet, beneath that confidence, Abel could sense traces of magic. A magical artifact, perhaps? This family seemed more connected to the magical world than he initially thought. If most big families within this town were like this, it was no surprise that strange occurrences were happening.


    Abel bd his farewell to Elliot and Burt who stood there looking at him as he followed Jet out of the room.


    Jet led Abel out of the office, and as they walked down towards First Street toward the villa, the town unfolded before them. Jet was personable, though not overly talkative. ¡°You¡¯ll like Reinhart,¡± he said as they walked. ¡°It¡¯s growing fast, but it¡¯s still got that charm of a small village.¡±


    Abel nodded, taking in the sights. ¡°It¡¯s certainly much bigger than my home village. I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    Jet chuckled. ¡°Yeah, my father¡¯s been pushing for the expansion for years. There are a lot of opportunities here. I know this town like the back of my hand, so if you ever run into trouble, just find me. I¡¯ll make sure no one causes you any issues.¡±


    Abel inwardly smiled at the thought of needing protection but kept his tone polite. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Thank you.¡±


    As they neared the Lulli Grove Villa, Abel paused, taken aback by the beauty before him. The villa was a grand, gated property nestled among vibrant flowers and lush greenery, the combination of wood and stone architecture blending elegantly with the natural surroundings. The air was thick with the scent of blooms, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze created a serene atmosphere that felt almost otherworldly. Abel''s senses sharpened, absorbing every detail of the villa as he took in the scene with quiet amazement.


    Jet moved forward, nodding respectfully as he opened the gate. ¡°Welcome to Lulli Grove Villa,¡± he said. ¡°My father wanted you to have the best location. You¡¯ll stay here until you¡¯re ready to choose an estate.¡±


    Abel nodded, stepping inside the gates, feeling the warm glow of gratitude at such thoughtful hospitality. ¡°It¡¯s incredible,¡± he murmured, smiling with genuine appreciation. ¡°Thank your father for me. This place¡­ it¡¯s beyond what I imagined.¡±


    Jet returned the smile. ¡°Settle in and make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, you know where to find me.¡± He turned, striding back toward the street, leaving Abel alone in the villa¡¯s serene beauty.


    With a deep breath, Abel took a step forward, feeling the weight of this new chapter. Inside, the villa was just as impressive: polished wood floors caught the soft sunlight streaming through expansive windows, illuminating the carefully crafted furniture, each piece seeming to whisper of elegance. The faint scent of fresh blooms mingled with the faintly earthy aroma of polished wood, grounding him in the present.


    Retrieving his badge, he focused his mana on it, sending a faint but steady glow through it. The badge pulsed, confirming his arrival to the Tower and signaling his readiness for whatever lay ahead. For the first time, he felt the stir of possibilities, both exciting and uncertain, knowing that his time in Reinhart had only just begun.

 Chapter 98: Head of Law Enforcement

    Chapter 98: Head of Law Enforcement


    Abel sat in the lavish villa, surrounded by light streaming through the wide windows and the gentle scent of flowers that escaped the open flowers within this temporary home of his. The villa''s beauty was undeniable, yet Abel¡¯s thoughts lingered elsewhere. He had spent the previous night in quiet meditation, focusing on his ethereal star and feeling the constant pull of its bottomless energy. It consumed starlight without end, an endless reservoir, different from anything he''d read in the Tower¡¯s scrolls. The answers he sought seemed elusive, especially without access to dungeons, as the Tower controlled those expeditions tightly. He understood that mana pools came with their own mysteries, but some obviously more difficult than others.


    Abel yearned to understand his elusive star affinity, the mysterious runes that might amplify his powers, and the ancient nomadic ruins scattered near Reinhart. His control over his starlight had advanced, and the small orbs now danced between his fingers with fluidity, but they remained an enigma, incomplete formations whose full power he struggled to unlock. Experimenting, he discovered that these starlit orbs could not only intensify gravity but also relieve it, balancing him between heaviness and weightlessness. Curious, he spread them throughout the room, feeling the air grow almost buoyant, like the soft resistance of water.


    A lightness seeped into everything as if the room itself floated in a gentle void, and Abel, along with the furniture, began to drift upward. He marveled, feeling a surge of exhilaration as he floated freely, watching chairs and tables lazily spin around him as if under an ethereal spell. Every item hung in midair, suspended as though sharing his wonder in this magical suspension. But, with one command, the orbs released their hold, and in a chaotic rush, everything crashed to the floor in a flurry of sound¡ªwood clattering, vases shattering, and papers scattering in all directions.


    "Great..." Abel muttered, staring at the fragments of broken vases now spread across the floor. The room, moments ago enchanted, was now a mess, but Abel couldn''t help but smile. Although he couldn''t comprehend constellations and how these formations could affect him and others, his knowledge of his affinity was indeed improving slowly but surely. The gravity control being stronger than before still felt a little heavy on his mana pool and it did require a large amount of mana for upkeep, but the uses were vast.


    The knowledge he had gained in the Tower about constellations felt incomplete, as he couldn¡¯t fully visualize them. He hoped the nomadic ruins could provide insight into the mysteries of the stars, perhaps helping him reach deeper into his celestial powers.


    The villa, while grand, lacked one thing Abel desired: a basement. He wanted a space for private experiments and hoped that when he selected his future estate on Fifth Street, it would include that crucial addition.


    His thoughts were interrupted by a noise from outside. Abel peered through the window and saw Jet standing by the gate. Stepping outside, Abel greeted him, shaking hands with the young man who was dressed sharply, exuding confidence and politeness.


    ¡°Good day,¡± Jet began, his voice smooth. ¡°My father wanted me to help you settle in and make sure you¡¯re well taken care of. I¡¯ll assist in hiring staff for the villa¡ªcooks, assistants, anyone you need. We¡¯ll make sure they have clean records and simple backgrounds.¡±


    Abel nodded appreciatively, glad for the assistance but still surprised by the lengths the town¡¯s leaders were going to accommodate him. Jet then led Abel through several streets and toward the town''s library, located just down Pine Street.


    As they walked, Jet explained, ¡°My father believes in knowledge as the cornerstone of any prosperous town. This library may be small now, but we¡¯re working to expand it.¡±


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    The library¡¯s interior was modest yet inviting, with a quiet elegance that struck a careful balance between simplicity and charm. The scent of freshly polished wood mingled with the faint mustiness of old pages, creating an atmosphere that felt timeless. Sunlight filtered through narrow, tall windows, casting warm, golden beams onto the neat shelves, which were organized with care, each book snugly tucked in place. The limited selection of books, primarily on mundane topics, gave the room a cozy feeling; the simple, handmade bindings hinted at the knowledge they held about the local culture and everyday life of Reinhart¡¯s people.


    The walls were lined with carefully carved wooden panels, displaying faint etchings of local plants and symbols, adding a sense of quiet reverence to the space. A single reading table stood in the center, its surface smooth and cool to the touch, with chairs that invited visitors to sit, read, and linger. Abel¡¯s eyes lingered on these details, feeling the library¡¯s gentle energy and savoring the atmosphere¡ªa humble yet potent reminder that knowledge here was valued as much as in any grander library he had known.


    After spending a short time admiring the library, Jet guided Abel down Pine Street to the Enforcement station, which served as the headquarters for the town''s officers. The station was larger than Abel had expected, a sturdy stone building with armed guards patrolling the perimeter. Inside, the atmosphere shifted to one of discipline and order. The stone walls held paintings of previous officers or people who had contributed to the town. The guards, tough-looking men and women, wore matching black uniforms with a flower insignia on their sleeves that marked them as Reinhart¡¯s enforcers. Their stern expressions softened as they greeted Jet, clearly recognizing his status in the town hierarchy.


    Jet led Abel through the station¡¯s halls until they arrived at Burt¡¯s office. Jet waited outside, respecting the privacy of Abel¡¯s upcoming meeting with the head of law enforcement. Abel entered the room, greeted by Burt¡¯s strong handshake and the older man¡¯s direct, no-nonsense demeanor.


    ¡°Good to finally meet you,¡± Burt said, his voice firm but respectful. His eyes studied Abel, not with suspicion, but with the careful gaze of a man who had seen much in his years. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a bit about you. Let me be clear: we¡¯ve had another guest like you before, someone connected to the powers beyond Reinhart. He was sharp, but not as physically capable. I¡¯m hoping you can bring something different to the table¡ªsomething that keeps this town safe.¡±


    Abel nodded, appreciating Burt¡¯s straightforward approach. He could sense that the head of law enforcement was someone who valued strength and reliability.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can,¡± Abel replied, his voice calm but filled with determination.


    Burt leaned back slightly in his chair, his face softening. ¡°Reinhart is growing. We¡¯ve had a few issues cropping up¡ªstrange occurrences, things I can¡¯t explain. That¡¯s where you come in. I¡¯ll fill you in on the details as you get settled, but I want you to be ready for anything. I ask you to put the town first, and even if you are a guest our laws will still apply to you.¡±


    Abel noted Burt''s words with a quiet, focused nod, fully aware of the subtle yet significant task being placed upon him. Reinhart¡¯s prosperity, as exciting as it was, came with hidden dangers¡ªand it was clear Burt expected Abel to take on the responsibility of safeguarding the town against them.


    Burt leaned in, his tone lowering. "Be cautious around the yellow forest to the east, past the flower fields. Word has it that some unsavory types are settling there, causing trouble for travelers. It''s technically out of my reach, but keeping our town unaffected... well, I hope you''d lend a hand."


    Amused but intrigued, Abel accepted the challenge with a nod. Exploring the surrounding areas aligned with his purpose in the town. "Understood. I¡¯d appreciate any updates or details about this situation, as well.¡±


    Burt¡¯s eyes lit up, clearly pleased with Abel¡¯s response. "Good. Expect to have a report waiting by your gate in a few days," he said, satisfied.


    As the meeting wrapped up, Burt extended his hand again. ¡°Welcome to Reinhart, Abel. I hope you¡¯re ready for what¡¯s ahead.¡±


    Abel smiled and nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and unease. Reinhart was beautiful, prosperous, and full of potential, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of danger¡ªone that Abel was determined to uncover. With Jet waiting outside, Abel knew he wasn¡¯t alone in his journey, but the path ahead felt both thrilling and uncertain. As Abel stepped back into the sunlit streets, his mind raced with thoughts of what was to come.

 Chapter 99: Hiring Workers

    Chapter 99: Hiring Workers


    Abel had been in Reinhart for two days now, and the transition had been peaceful. The bustling village had a calming charm to it, far larger and more sophisticated than his humble upbringing had prepared him for. There were rarely any loud noises on First St, apart from caravans riding by the villa and the sound of horses galloping along.


    As he sipped his tea, Abel glanced across the room at Jet, the mayor¡¯s son, who had quietly become something of an unofficial assistant to him. Jet had been handling various matters behind the scenes¡ªeverything from organizing his day to arranging and rejecting meetings with important townsfolk. Abel was grateful for the help, even if he suspected Jet¡¯s assistance was more his father¡¯s idea than his own.


    Jet, dressed in formal yet comfortable attire, had a youthful energy about him, but he carried himself with a calm professionalism. Despite being the mayor''s son, he didn¡¯t exhibit the typical arrogance or entitlement one might expect. His approach to Abel showed genuine respect, making their dynamic easy and amiable.


    ¡°I have some guests coming by to meet you today,¡± Jet said, breaking the silence. He spoke casually but with a hint of formality, trying to balance his role as both assistant and the mayor''s son. "Nobles from town, hoping to curry favor or simply get a feel for who you are. I can send them away if you''d like."


    Abel set his cup down on the table, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. The last thing he wanted was to waste time entertaining idle nobles with ulterior motives. He wasn''t here to get tangled in the local political web. He had a job to do, a mission. Although he did want to investigate these noble families, it wasn''t time yet, he had just been getting acclimated to Reinhart and had his own puzzle to solve.  The mysteries surrounding his ethereal star gnawed at the back of his mind constantly, its bottomless potential both exciting and terrifying.


    ¡°No, I¡¯d prefer not to meet with them today,¡± Abel replied calmly, his voice betraying none of the irritation he felt. "Can you make an excuse for me?"


    Jet nodded, understanding. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll handle it.¡±


    Before leaving, Jet added, "However, we do have a few people coming in for job interviews¡ªhousekeepers, cooks, gardeners, that sort of thing. They should be arriving shortly."


    Abel leaned back in his chair, nodding absentmindedly. ¡°Fine. Let''s see them. Bring them in one by one when you''re ready.¡±


    As Jet left to greet the guests, Abel allowed himself a moment of introspection. His ethereal star, born from the illusory world, pulsed within him like a distant heartbeat, its hunger for starlight insatiable. Every night he meditated, drawing the light from the heavens to feed the star, but it was never enough. The star¡¯s capacity felt endless, and though it functioned as his mana pool, there was something deeper¡ªsomething Abel could not fully comprehend. Was this vast hunger a side effect of the Soul Eater¡¯s influence? Or was it tied to the fact that his star was from an illusory world, rather than the true sky?


    He¡¯d pondered these questions every night, his mind wandering into the mysteries of constellations and ancient nomadic ruins. Perhaps the ruins near Reinhart held answers. He hoped so. The Tower had been clear¡ªdungeons were off-limits to newly ascended apostles, and without the Tower¡¯s approval, he wouldn¡¯t be seeing one any time soon. That left the nomadic ruins as his only hope for uncovering the nature of his affinity.


    Jet returned after a short while, leading the first candidate into the interview room where Abel sat, observing keenly. Their first interview was with a housemaid applicant, a young woman named Marta. She was slender with a warm but quiet presence, her brown hair tied back neatly. She had worked previously for a family in a nearby town and took pride in her meticulous attention to detail.


    Marta smiled softly as she explained, ¡°I make sure every corner is spotless, and I enjoy tending to plants just as much. Gardens, especially¡ªmakes the home feel lively.¡± Abel noted her calm demeanor, nodding approvingly. Her experience as a gardener was an added benefit, as the villa was surrounded by beautiful but demanding foliage.


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    The next candidate was a chef named Lyle, a burly man with thick arms and a firm voice. He spoke with a slight southern accent, an unusual but welcome change in the region. ¡°I¡¯m not fancy, but I make hearty meals,¡± he declared confidently. ¡°My specialty is seasonal dishes¡ªevery ingredient fresh and local.¡± Lyle¡¯s straightforward approach earned a small smile from Abel, who appreciated his dedication to keeping things simple yet authentic.


    Jet leaned in and whispered, ¡°Solid experience, but I think he could get creative if the job demanded.¡±


    They next interviewed Tomas and Rian, two guards who had trained in enforcement in a different town before settling in Reinhart. Tomas was stoic and older, with a few streaks of gray in his hair, while Rian, his younger counterpart, seemed eager but balanced it with a calm, observant attitude. Both men were tall and muscular as some scratches littered their bodies showing previous signs of battle. When Abel asked what had drawn them to guard work, Tomas shrugged slightly, stating in his gravelly voice, ¡°Protection. There¡¯s honor in keeping people safe.¡±


    Rian added with a smile, ¡°And it¡¯s not all about the brawn. You¡¯d be surprised how much listening comes in handy.¡± Abel appreciated their sincerity, sensing they would both bring commitment and experience to the job.


    After the last interview, Jet looked to Abel. ¡°Seems like we have a good mix of skills here.¡±


    Abel nodded thoughtfully, ¡°Yes. It¡¯ll be interesting to see how they all blend into the villa¡¯s life. Each of them has something distinct to offer.¡± With that, they began making their final selections, confident they had chosen the right fit for his new home. The villa he would permanently be stationed in would be as big as this one


    As they progressed through the interviews, three candidates for the villa keeper position stood out: one was a former assistant from a nearby town, experienced but displaced after their employer left. The second was a young man, orphaned but resourceful, who had once managed his late family¡¯s household. The third was an older man with a wealth of experience but clearly nearing the end of his working years.


    ¡°I like the second one,¡± Abel said quietly to Jet after the young man¡¯s interview. ¡°He¡¯s young, capable, and he knows the area. Plus, he seems hungry for the opportunity.¡±


    Jet nodded in agreement. ¡°I thought so too. He¡¯ll be useful to have around, especially since he¡¯s from Reinhart.¡±


    After they finished the interviews, Abel had Jet give a small compensation to the applicants who didn¡¯t get the job. "It¡¯s only fair," he said, aware that many of them needed the work desperately. He didn''t come here for charity work, be he knew when to compensate for someone''s time. He wasn''t too afraid of any ulterior motives at the moment as these people didn''t seem touched by magic and for a mundane to seriously hurt an apostle, a miracle would need to happen. Despite his confidence, he did plan on investigating their background further, but as things stood, Abel was pretty happy with what had happened so far.


    As the candidates left, Jet remained, leaning against the doorframe with a thoughtful expression. ¡°I think you made good choices,¡± he said.


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Abel replied, standing up and stretching. ¡°By the way, do you know where I can get some resources? Things not typically found in the market.¡±


    Jet raised an eyebrow, understanding immediately. He shifted uncomfortably before answering, lowering his voice. ¡°There¡¯s a black market, or there used to be. Law enforcement raided their meeting spot near Maple Street, but I¡¯m not sure where they¡¯re gathering now.¡±


    Abel smirked, amused by Jet¡¯s unease. ¡°Let me know if you find anything. I¡¯d like to keep my options open.¡±


    Jet hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. My father... well, let¡¯s just say he prefers things to run smoothly. But I¡¯m sure I can find something out.¡±


    "Good," Abel said. He could sense that Jet was genuinely trying to be helpful, but there was a slight undercurrent of apprehension, likely due to the influence of his father, Mayor Elliot. Abel didn¡¯t mind; as long as Jet proved useful, they would get along just fine.


    The day was winding down, and Abel found himself alone in the lavish villa once more. The villa, though extravagant, had a sense of peace to it. Large windows let the evening sun pour in, casting golden light across the room, while the scent of the town¡¯s renowned flowers filled the air.


    The quietness allowed his mind to drift back to his star, always lurking within his psyche. He could feel it, the mystery and power it held. But there was so much he still didn¡¯t understand¡ªabout the star, about his own abilities, and the path ahead. With a sigh, he headed towards his bedroom to meditate, knowing that his journey was only just beginning.

 Not A Chapter

    As some of you might have known, I''ve always had plans to involve some of my readers in my writing, not in very obvious ways, but in ways that blend in with the story and don''t divert from what I am writing. I have many plans for this novel, as the towers within Bask and the Central Region will be explored further, later in Volumes 2 and 3. With that, there will be many opportunities to implement some of the people who give their time to this novel as well as those who go above and beyond to comment and give feedback. With that being said, please keep Apostle titles and Affinities grounded, without any world-breaking elements. As you''ve noticed, affinities come in many different forms as some are abstract and others follow a more elemental approach. With that being said, Here is the format with an example:


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    Apostle Title: FogBlade


    Affinity: Fog


    Reason for affinity: Why do you like it?


    Additional Info: Whatever you want.


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    Another chapter coming in two hours or so. Cheers!!

 Chapter 100: Danger In The Sky

    Chapter 100: Danger In The Sky


    Jet stood before his father, Mayor Elliot, in the office of the Fuzon family, recounting his recent actions. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the polished wood furniture and the thick carpets. The office had a certain gravitas, with the faint scent of old books and worn leather blending with the soft crackle from the fireplace.


    "I''ve done what you''ve asked, Father," Jet said, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. "Abel asked about the black market and anyone connected to it."


    Elliot, seated at his desk, rested his chin on his hand, eyes narrowing in thought. The weight of the situation hung between them. Jet had always looked up to his father¡¯s shrewd leadership, but now he sensed a different kind of concern lingering in the mayor''s expression. The mayor¡¯s deep-set eyes, once always calm and assured, now flickered with subtle anxiety.


    "What is Abel''s intention in wanting to know something like that?" Elliot finally asked, his voice measured but probing. His fingers drummed lightly on the oak desk, a rhythm of impatience cloaked in contemplation. He knew that Abel had been sent to assist the town, but these guests always seemed to have their own motives as well, which sometimes although allowed them to complete their missions, might not always leave the town in a better position.


    Jet hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "Maybe he believes the black market has some connection to the strange things happening in Reinhart. He might think those involved in illegal dealings know more than they let on, and maybe they are connected to more than just the black market. We are aware that artifacts pass through that market and into our town, the least we can do is prevent the rapid distribution of these magical Items, They aren''t cheap, so we can rule out the majority of the town."


    Elliot''s brow furrowed, and the lines of his face deepened in thought. He glanced at his son, weighing the possibilities before responding. "Perhaps. But we can''t assume his intentions just yet."


    Jet stepped forward, speaking more confidently. "Father, I think it''s wise to stay close to him. He¡¯s clearly not an ordinary man. If I continue assisting him, I can figure out more about what he''s really after, and maybe help you learn more about the organizations controlling Bask. It has always been your dream¡­"


    Elliot looked up sharply, his expression serious. "Yes, stay close to him. Be his ally if you have to. There''s more to this Abel than meets the eye. The organizations in Bask have always been powerful and secretive, and I¡¯m certain Abel isn¡¯t just some wandering guest. There could be benefits to aligning ourselves with him. You remember the Blue Disturbance¡­"


    Jet nodded in agreement, though deep down he couldn¡¯t help but wonder about his father''s ambitions. But the thought of the event his father brought up definitely placed things into perspective for him.


    A few years ago there were strange noises and screams coming from a forest not too far away from the village, and at night a certain part of the forest would glow in a blue mystical light. Locals went missing several times, in addition, when Burt sent out several groups of enforcement officers, they never returned.


    After hitting several dead ends, Mayor Elliot filed a request for assistance to the closet Bask organization, which from his last guest he had learned that it was named the Stone Tower.  This organization was a complete mystery as it seemed that this cloud of mystique was on purpose, and any attempts to know more seemed way too difficult for him.


    Not even a week after filing for support, strange lights and sounds could be heard coming from the forest, sounds that he had never heard before. The feeling emanating from that location was overbearing as no one in the town was able to approach the forest even if they wanted to. After that night with spectacular lights, everything went back to normal as if the abnormality had never existed. This obvious show of power cemented his ideas of these organizations and enriched his passion for magic.


    Elliot¡¯s gaze drifted to the ring on Jet''s finger¡ªa simple band of wood adorned with intricate symbols. He gestured towards it. "Do you remember when I gave you that ring?"


    Jet raised his hand, looking at the worn ring that had become a part of him. He studied the strange markings etched into the wood, each one pulsing faintly with an unseen energy. "Of course, Father. When I put it on, I felt... different. Able to move my body in flexible ways I''ve never been able to before. Like it enhanced me somehow, although, I get a cold almost once a week though."


    Elliot nodded slowly, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "That ring, as you know is a magical artifact. It¡¯s one of the few things I¡¯ve managed to obtain from those who truly understand magic in the Bask region and the previous guests we housed sent by the organization. The organizations that control magic in this land know how to harness such power, I''m sure of it."


    Jet¡¯s eyes widened in surprise but he felt like this was so. "Magic? I¡¯ve always thought it was more of a legend, something far removed from our lives here in Reinhart. Even with the boons we receive from these artifacts, the thought of magic feels ancient and unattainable. Why don¡¯t more people know about this?"


    Elliot leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. "That''s what I''ve wrestled with for a long time, however, after seeing the patterns and how related these strange happenings had been to the influx of magical artifacts, I believe that magic invites danger. Strange occurrences, and anomalies¡ªare just the beginning when magic is involved. And we both know Reinhart has already started to feel the effects of something we don¡¯t yet understand."


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    Jet frowned, his thoughts racing. "Do you think we should get rid of these magical artifacts, then? If they¡¯re causing the problems¡ª"


    "It¡¯s not that simple," Elliot interrupted, shaking his head. "There are more people in this town with magical artifacts than you¡¯d think. Over a thousand people are living in Reinhart, and I believe that five percent of the population in possession of one. Some are likely aware of what they possess, but many don¡¯t understand what it means to be around magic. And as our town grows, more people with these artifacts will come in. If we¡¯re not prepared, we¡¯ll be sitting ducks for strange entities we can''t control. Thats why we must have artifacts of our own, if we fail to adapt to these changes, well be left behind."


    Jet absorbed his father¡¯s words carefully, understanding the gravity of the situation. "So what do we do?"


    Elliot¡¯s voice took on a firmer edge. "For now, give Abel the information he wants about the black market, but don¡¯t tell Burt. The fewer people who know about this, the better."


    Jet gave a respectful nod, understanding the unspoken order. He turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back at his father, who stared pensively out the window.


    Elliot was alone now, the flickering light from the fireplace casting shadows on the walls as his thoughts darkened. He understood better than anyone that as Reinhart continued to expand, it would inevitably collide with the world of magic. He had spent years meeting with representatives from the Stone Tower even before he knew of their significance, discussing courses of actions,  knowing that magic would soon become an undeniable part of their reality, he just wished it happened a little slower.


    "I''ve prepared for this," he muttered to himself, his hand absentmindedly touching a bracelet on his wrist. The bracelet was simple but ornate, made with colorful glossy beads that gleamed faintly under the light¡ªa magical artifact of his own.


    As he ran his fingers over it, Elliot thought about the future. The Bask region was still young, its foundations shaky, and there were too many eager to profit from the town''s growth. He had ambitions, yes, but he wouldn¡¯t allow his town to fall victim to outside forces¡ªespecially those vying for his position as mayor. The path ahead was treacherous, but he would not be easily toppled.


    <hr>


    Elsewhere, in the garden of his villa, Abel stood under the setting sun. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of pollen, the flowers swayed with the breeze as their colors were vibrant under the twilight. His villa, with its sprawling greenery and serene atmosphere, was the picture of peace. But despite the calm surroundings, Abel¡¯s mind was elsewhere¡ªfocused on the strange star within him.


    Since his arrival, Abel had spent much of his time in meditation, trying to unlock the mysteries of his star affinity. His ethereal star pulsed within him, constantly drawing in starlight from the sky above. As the soft evening light dimmed, Abel felt the familiar pull, a connection that had become stronger with each passing day.


    He closed his eyes, focusing intently on a faint star barely visible in the dusky sky. The star flickered weakly, almost imperceptible, but Abel could sense its distant energy. He attempted something different¡ªconcentrating all of his focus on consuming the light of this single faint star instead of drawing from the general starlight around him.


    As he channeled the energy, his ethereal star within began to spin faster, its light growing brighter with a purple and golden hue. Abel could feel the faint celestial body in the sky resisting, as if it was alive, pushing back against him. But he didn¡¯t stop. The more he pressed, the more the faint star yielded, until finally, the resistance broke, and his ethereal orb began to devour its light entirely.


    Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over Abel. The star in the sky¡ªonce faint but still visible¡ªslowly began to dim, its light fading into the void until it vanished completely. A wave of comfort overwhelmed his body as a starry aura surrounded him, and although it was small he could feel an improvement with his body. Abel¡¯s eyes snapped open, a cold chill running down his spine.


    Had he just... consumed a star? Not just its light, but the star itself?


    Abel took a step back, his breath quickening as the realization settled in. He had felt powerful before, but this¡ªthis was something entirely different. He had snuffed out a star. And yet, the power inside him had only grown.


    He quickly retreated to the safety of his villa, his mind racing with questions and an underlying sense of danger. What had he done? And more importantly¡ªwhat consequences would follow?


    <hr>


    Unbeknownst to Abel, far away in different parts of the world, powerful figures with a star affinity glanced up toward the night sky, their gazes unwavering and intent. Each one inhabited a realm steeped in magic and myth, their lives woven into the fabric of the cosmos. As they stood atop ancient mountains, within enchanted forests, and beside sprawling oceans, their senses tingled with the disruption rippling through the starlit expanse.


    In the ethereal heights above the clouds, a majestic figure draped in a cloak of shimmering constellations surveyed the heavens. With eyes like twin moons, he watched the swirling galaxies dance with urgency. His presence emanated an ancient wisdom, as if he had witnessed the rise and fall of countless worlds. A magical fishing rod, adorned with jewels that sparkled like the night sky, extended down toward the earth, the line disappearing into the depths of a vast ocean below. The rod wasn''t merely a tool for angling; it was a conduit of power, its thread connecting the stars to the reflections dancing on the water''s surface. The gentle ripples mirrored celestial constellations, each movement sending shockwaves of energy across the realms.


    Far across the ocean, where the waves crashed against the shore with a rhythmic pulse, another figure emerged¡ªa woman with hair like cascading stardust. Her bare feet kissed the cool sand as she raised her hands toward the sky, summoning the whispers of the winds. She could feel the loss of the faint star that had once graced the horizon, a beacon now extinguished. Her heart sank with a knowing dread, for she understood the balance of the universe was faltering. The stars, once a guiding light, were becoming obscured by a growing darkness that threatened to engulf the realms.


    In a forest dense with ancient trees, their trunks gnarled with the passage of time, a third figure knelt in meditation. Clad in robes woven from the very essence of twilight, he traced patterns in the soil with his fingertips, drawing energy from the earth. When he opened his eyes, they gleamed with an intensity that reflected the cosmos. He, too, had felt the disruption.


    Their expressions darkened, for they knew one thing: the sky was in trouble.

 Chapter 101: Gloomy Beginning

    Chapter 101: Gloomy Beginning


    Nando stood on the edge of Pipa village, staring at the dreary landscape before him. The village, known for its struggling mining industry, seemed suffocated by its own misery. Small dirt hills were scattered everywhere, minecarts rusted from lack of use, and the streets felt empty as the only time life was seen was when people walked by with dirty faces and hollow expressions. The very air seemed heavy with the weight of their despair and lack of hope.


    He trudged along the uneven paths, his black apostle robes catching the attention of a few miners who shot him looks of disgust. One man, particularly filthy from a day''s work and extremely malnourished and carrying a pickaxe in his hand, made a face at Nando as they passed each other. With his characteristic sarcasm, Nando smirked and quipped, "I think you¡¯ve got dirt on your face, not me." The man cursed under his breath and walked away, muttering about his shift starting soon.


    Nando scowled at the overall state of the village. He hated it here already. The rundown buildings and the overwhelming atmosphere of sadness clung to him like an unwanted cloak. The people were unfriendly and guarded, a people would close their windows once Nando walked by. Why was I sent to this forsaken place? The question gnawed at him constantly. Why was it always him who got stuck in these miserable situations? His arrival hadn¡¯t been any better, either. The Big Jelly that had delivered him here had spat him out as if he were something repulsive, before flying away with an almost vindictive speed. It was like even the creature knew this was a hopeless place. Which was what Nando told himself refusing to believe it was his presence that caused the Big Jelly to react in such a way.


    As Nando made his way through the grimy streets of Pipa, he spotted the mayor standing ahead, arms crossed, with a less-than-thrilled look plastered across his round, ruddy face. The man was almost two heads shorter than Nando, his paunch accentuated by the only clean outfit Nando had seen all day¡ªa spotless cotton shirt under a hay-straw hat that barely covered his bald head. Before the mayor could open his mouth, Nando smirked, feigning curiosity.


    "Tell me, Mayor," Nando began, ¡°how is it you¡¯re the only spotless thing in this dump? Is that intentional?¡±


    The mayor scoffed, his lips twisting in irritation. "I didn''t ask for your comments on my attire, outsider," he shot back, a sneer creeping into his voice. "We don''t exactly roll out the welcome mat here. Your arrival was imposed on me." He gave Nando a disdainful once-over, clearly displeased. "And don''t get any ideas that I¡¯ll be bending over backward for some... lawman with an ego.¡±


    Nando grinned, unfazed. "Good to see hospitality''s still alive out here, Mayor. Now, about the ¡®luxury accommodations¡¯ you¡¯re assigning me.¡±


    The mayor ignored Nando as his face was red in both anger and embarrassment. In this village no one had the courage to speak to him in such a way, this outside had truly taken him by surprise. If you weren''t a guest I would''ve had you hanged for those remarks. Hmph! The Mayor thought leading Nando through the village and towards the forest just outside of the village.


    The mayor paused as he looked towards Nando with a hidden smirk.


    Nando''s brows twitch as he says, "Now, tell me Great Mayor why is this abandoned house on our way to my luxury abode? I gotta tell you, you should guide your guests through a different area next time, maybe a more scenic one."


    The mayor''s grin remained as he nodded toward the rickety shack ahead, the door sagging on its hinges, and the roof sporting enough holes to give him a perfect view of the sky. The mayor barely hid the smirk anymore as his yellow almost shark-like teeth could be seen through his dry lips.


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± he drawled, feigning innocence. ¡°Well, it¡¯s what we¡¯ve got, so if it¡¯s beneath your standards, that¡¯s your problem. Do whatever fixing you need, or leave¡ªfrankly, I don''t care.¡±


    Nando shrugged, glancing over the pitiful structure before turning to the mayor with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s charming, Mayor. Perfect for an ¡®imposed guest¡¯ such as myself, but be real Mayor, I know you care whether I leave or not as you''ve got big issues that require bigger people.¡± he replied, his sarcasm glinting.


    There was a moment of silence after what Nando said as the mayor took a second to process the fact that Nando might''ve been making a height joke, and a few more seconds to contain the anger that swelled up within his heart.


    "Good, then we''re done here," the mayor snapped, his eyes visibly shaped into a malicious gaze. "Do what you''re here for, and keep your nose out of my business. Go deal with the problems in the mines!" With that, he turned sharply, heading back towards the village, leaving Nando standing with a lingering smirk and a mental checklist of repairs for his ¡®luxury¡¯ shack.


    "Seriously?" Nando had muttered, staring back at the decaying walls. But there was nothing he could do. This was his life now, at least for a while. He was expected to stay here, to carry out his mission. Part of that mission was investigating not just the mines, but also the mayor himself. There was something off about the whole place, something more than just a failing industry and rampant criminal activity.


    As Nando gazed towards the direction that the Mayor had left once more, his mind wandered. He could feel it¡ªthe misery that seemed to seep from every corner of the village. Pipa village was drowning in it, and that alone made Nando suspicious. There had to be a deeper reason for the overwhelming misery here.


    His black veins had retreated into his body, leaving behind only the telltale signs of his transformation: the black heart that now served as his mana pool, and the pitch-black irises that gave him an intimidating, almost monstrous look. His under-eyes were darker as if he hadn¡¯t slept in days, adding to his already unsettling appearance. With his black apostle robes, Nando looked every bit as miserable as the people around him, though for entirely different reasons.


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    He caught sight of a few more villagers as he walked. Their eyes avoided his, and the few that did make eye contact quickly looked away as they too continued making their way towards the village as the mayor did. He didn¡¯t blame them. His appearance could be very scary for the mundane, but that suited him just fine. The less interaction, the better. He wasn¡¯t here to make friends. He was here to uncover whatever secrets this wretched place held.


    At least his hut was located on the outskirts of the village, giving him a small measure of privacy. He appreciated the solitude. Being away from the main village meant he could focus on his mission without constant interruptions. He had only been here for a short time, but he already felt the weight of the village¡¯s misery pressing down on him.


    His mind drifted back to his affinity for misery. Since aligning with it, he had noticed subtle changes in himself. He had become more attuned to the emotions of others, especially their sadness and despair. It was almost as if the misery of the people around him fed his powers, strengthening the connection between him and his black heart. He could sense the ebb and flow of misery like a tide, and in Pipa village, that tide was constantly rising.


    But that wasn¡¯t all. There was something wrong with the mines. The mayor didn¡¯t speak of it openly, but Nando could feel it in the air. There was an underlying tension, a fear that ran deeper than just the miserable state of their lives. Something was happening in the mines, and he had a feeling it wasn¡¯t just about the dwindling resources.


    With a final glance in the direction of the mining village, Nando entered his so-called residence as the sun was setting in the background, shutting the door behind him as it groaned on its rusty hinges. The interior was even worse than the exterior had hinted. Dust hung thick in the air, catching the dim light filtering through gaps in the walls, and the smell of stale, damp wood clung to everything. The floor was uneven and cracked, with patches of exposed dirt showing through the warped wooden boards.


    He eyed an old, wobbly chair, the closest piece of furniture in the room to him, and cautiously pressed his hand against its back. The moment he did, it crumbled to dust, the wood so dry and brittle that it gave way instantly. Nando brushed the dust off his hands, stifling a grimace.


    There was a flimsy table near the wall, its surface marred with dark stains he preferred not to investigate. A tiny window on one side allowed a single ray of light to illuminate the room, highlighting the pitiful state of the furnishings. Even the bed¡ªa thin mattress stuffed with what seemed like straw¡ªlooked like it might disintegrate if he so much as sat down on it.


    Nando sighed his initial amusement at the ¡°accommodations¡± fading. Still, his grin returned as he surveyed the rundown hut. The perfect place, he thought, for keeping a low profile.


    As Nando pondered his new surroundings, he noticed faint footsteps approaching from outside. He wasn¡¯t exactly an amateur; he could tell from the pacing and weight of each step that at least four individuals were positioning themselves around the shack, attempting¡ªpoorly¡ªto stay hidden. He couldn¡¯t help but grin. So much for maintaining a low profile.


    Creak!


    Nando swung the door open, rusty hinges groaning like a rusty saw, and faced four men staring back at him in surprise. They each held a knife, blades glinting even in the dim light, their eyes gleaming with a practiced malice. These weren¡¯t harmless troublemakers¡ªthey¡¯d seen blood before.


    Nando spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, his grin wide and mocking. ¡°Welcome to my humble, luxurious abode, gentlemen! Why don¡¯t you come on in and make yourselves comfortable?¡±


    The men exchanged wary glances, instinctively stepping back at Nando¡¯s unexpected response. One of them, a scarred man with greasy blond hair, stepped forward, attempting to maintain his composure. ¡°Cut the crap Bastard. Do you think you can stroll into our town like you own the place? We don¡¯t take kindly to fancy outsiders like you. So, hand over your coins and your clothes, or we¡¯ll show you why we¡¯re called the Four Backstabbers.¡±


    Feigning shock, Nando raised a hand to his mouth, eyebrows lifted high. ¡°The Four Backstabbers? Don¡¯t tell me the plan is to betray each other?¡±


    The men scowled, one of them clutching his knife a bit tighter, while another cracked his knuckles. Nando could see the flash of irritation and confusion on their faces. His smirk widened, his posture relaxed and nonchalant.


    ¡°Listen here, rich boy,¡± another of them growled, stepping forward, ¡°we¡¯re not playing games. Hand it over or you¡¯ll regret it.¡±


    Nando chuckled softly, almost as if entertained by the spectacle. ¡°Tell you what, boys,¡± he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, ¡°how about I show you how we do ¡®fancy¡¯ where I¡¯m from?¡±


    ¡°Kill him!¡± the blond man snarled, brandishing his knife in a stiff gesture of command, but his legs seemed rooted to the ground, refusing to obey. He glanced down, eyes widening as he realized that his legs¡ªand those of his companions¡ªwere ensnared in thick, writhing black tendrils. One by one, their faces contorted into horrified expressions.


    ¡°You¡­freak!¡± one spat, his voice cracking, but it quickly morphed into a shriek as the tendrils crept higher, coiling up their bodies like constricting snakes.


    Nando chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming. ¡°Now, show me how you got that fearsome nickname.¡±


    With a flick of his wrist, the tendrils pulsed, and suddenly, the four men lurched forward, their knives raised against each other, unable to stop themselves. The air was filled with the sickening sounds of flesh tearing and bones crunching. One man plunged his blade deep into his friend¡¯s gut, his eyes bulging as intestines spilled out in a wet, crimson heap. He choked out a sob, his blood-soaked hands trembling as he was forced to drive the blade in further.


    Another man¡¯s eyes widened in silent horror as his hand, controlled by Nando¡¯s tendrils, drove his knife into the temple of the man next to him. Blood spurted out in violent arcs, and the unfortunate victim dropped instantly, his face frozen in an expression of agonized surprise.


    The final survivor, his body quivering and drenched in blood, struggled to maintain his grip on sanity as he drove his knife into the throat of the last of his companions. A gurgling noise escaped the dying man¡¯s lips, his hands clawing feebly at the air before he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The sole remaining thug, now covered in his comrades¡¯ blood, swayed unsteadily, his gaze fixed on Nando, pupils dilated in terror.


    ¡°Good job,¡± Nando said coldly, a twisted smile on his lips. From his back, four shadowy arms sprouted, clawed hands extending towards the lone survivor. The shadowy limbs gripped him, raising him into the air like a doll. The man¡¯s body dangled, immobilized, while Nando¡¯s tendrils coiled tighter around him, binding him like a spider spinning its web.


    The claws twisted, rotating the man slowly as if he were nothing more than meat on a spit. Nando watched the scene with detached amusement, extending his hand as a web of inky tendrils enclosed the man¡¯s body, snaring him in an unbreakable black web.

 Chapter 102: Starry Villa

    Chapter 102: Starry Villa


    Abel followed Jet down Fifth Street, where cobblestones gleamed underfoot, flanked by homes in various stages of grandeur. These were houses for the elite of Reinhart, echoing the style of First Street but with fresh touches of their own. The air carried a mingled scent of cut wood and freshly hewn stone, punctuated by the rhythmic clang of hammers and low grunts from the workers. The street buzzed with the activity of artisans, carpenters, and stoneworkers, giving life to the row of lavish new homes, each hinting at opulence and tailored elegance.


    As they walked, Jet pointed to houses in different stages of construction. Some structures boasted tall, wide windows framed with polished wood, while others showcased intricately carved stone facades. Jet, his voice steady and personable, greeted passing townsfolk with a nod or a smile, a gesture of familiarity and respect that was returned by those who recognized him as the mayor¡¯s son. His calm voice cut through the noise as he asked, ¡°So, what exactly are you looking for in a home, aside from, I imagine, having private spaces?¡±


    Abel thought a moment, eyeing a nearby house with tall iron gates and ivy creeping along its stone wall. ¡°A basement,¡± he began, turning his gaze back to Jet. ¡°Somewhere I can work, study, and avoid disturbances¡ªa place where I can manage my affairs in peace. Privacy is essential, along with enough space to be comfortable without feeling excessive. Spacious, but not flashy.¡±


    Jet nodded, gesturing for Abel to follow as they approached the first villa. The building was grand yet reserved, constructed from dark-stained wood and accented with elaborate carvings that wrapped around its facade like a shadowy tapestry. The front gate, crafted from matching dark stone and wood, opened onto a gravel pathway that led up to an imposing front door. Abel admired the detailed craftsmanship, noting how the darker tones of the structure gave it a distinct air of mystery, almost like it was meant to keep secrets rather than reveal them. However, as he studied the property, he couldn¡¯t ignore how close it stood to its neighboring villa¡ªtoo close for his liking.


    "Too close for comfort," Abel murmured, shaking his head with a faint smile.


    Jet chuckled knowingly. "I figured you¡¯d say that. You¡¯ll have to decide quickly, though. Noble families from nearby towns are moving into Fifth Street fast. These two homes are the latest to become available, but if they¡¯re not to your liking, it might be some time before others are ready."


    Jet gestured subtly to the rows of similar estates in various stages of construction along the street, bustling with activity as carpenters and stonemasons worked. The newcomers brought commerce and influence, yes¡ªbut also new dynamics, which Jet¡¯s father hoped Abel could monitor. ¡°My father hopes that by staying on Fifth Street, you¡¯ll have a safe vantage point and be able to keep an eye on things¡­ in the mayor¡¯s interests, of course,¡± Jet added with a meaningful glance.


    Abel¡¯s gaze narrowed. Being surrounded by noblemen was not particularly appealing. They were prideful, nosy, and more trouble than their titles were worth. But he caught Jet¡¯s hint and knew this aligned with the task before him. If the mayor¡¯s concern was security and vigilance, Abel could make that work.


    They approached the second property, a villa that managed to be both grand and welcoming. Its exterior combined marble and light wood, the creamy white stone catching sunlight while the pale wood gave it a warm, grounded feel. Abel felt an immediate sense of calm. The massive windows illuminated the spacious interior, bathing it in natural light. In the living room, a stunning spherical skylight opened directly to the sky above, framing a perfect view of the stars when night came. Abel envisioned himself here, beneath that open sky, feeling connected to his ethereal affinity.


    Outside, the garden extended into a private oasis bordered by thick, towering trees. The garden was adorned with soft yellow flowers, their fragrance filling the air. Despite being in the heart of Reinhart, the yard felt secluded, almost like a personal sanctuary removed from the bustle of town. Abel liked the feel of the smaller, more manageable space¡ªonly half the rooms of the previous house, allowing the garden to occupy a generous portion of the property.


    Jet led him to the basement, which was unfinished and bare, a simple, wide room with cool stone walls. Abel ran his fingers along the rough stone, his mind racing with the possibilities for transforming the space into a hidden lab for his research.


    ¡°This one has potential,¡± he said, his tone final, though a subtle smile hinted at his satisfaction.


    Jet grinned. ¡°So, does this mean we¡¯ve found the one?¡±


    Abel nodded. "Yes. I¡¯ll take it. I¡¯ll call it¡­ the Starry Villa.¡±


    Jet beamed at the decision. "I¡¯ll get the paperwork started at the mayor¡¯s office and send over the staff we hired for the house. It¡¯s a beautiful place, Abel."


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    Abel¡¯s smile widened slightly. "Thanks, Jet. I appreciate the help."


    Jet nodded, making a note in his journal before continuing, "Oh, and before I forget¡ªthere¡¯s been some information on that black market you were curious about."


    Abel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jet handed him a small list of names, each with strange nicknames, and basic information on them. Jet then mentioned a bar near Maple and Second Street that might house people with useful information and at least some people of interest.


    "Be wary of the Vander and Morman family," Jet added, his tone dropping. "The Vander family is a noble family that moved here a few years ago, and they¡¯ve been gaining influence rather quickly. They may have some connections that could interfere with your goals. The same goes for the Mormon family, but they have been in Reinhart for as long as my Fuzon family. They have their own motives and might be trying to cause chaos in the town.


    Abel took note, thanking Jet for the information. After a few more exchanges about the paperwork, Jet left to handle the formalities, and Abel made his way toward Maple Street, determined to learn more about the strange happenings and this black market.


    <hr>


    The bar on Maple Street was tucked between an apartment building and a few businesses. From the outside, it appeared cozy¡ªwooden beams framing the entrance, with ivy creeping up the sides. Inside, the dim lighting and low hum of conversation created an intimate, comfortable atmosphere. The scent of wine lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of leather and wood.


    The bartender, a gruff man with salt-and-pepper hair, greeted Abel as he took a seat at the bar.


    "Evening," the bartender said, wiping a glass. "You from out of town?"


    Abel nodded, putting on a polite smile. "Yes, just moved here recently. It¡¯s a nice town¡ªlooking forward to settling in."


    The bartender smirked. "Well, welcome. Word of advice¡ªstay away from gray flowers. They can be pretty addictive if you¡¯re not careful."


    Abel had heard of gray flowers in passing, usually smoked by the younger people in town, it gave them a momentary high but it was quite addictive. Abel had no interest in such things but did wonder if it would affect an apostle the same way it did a mundane.


    "Thanks for the tip," Abel replied with a nod. "What drink would you recommend?"


    The bartender reached for a bottle of red wine. "This is produced in North Bask by a wealthy family that has been growing these grapes for many years¡ªthe technique is from the Central Region, though. You¡¯ll taste the difference."


    Abel accepted the glass, taking a sip of the deep red liquid. The taste was bold, with strong notes of plum and a sharp acidity that lingered on his palate. He enjoyed it, all while keeping his ears open. Abel¡¯s heightened senses allowed him to catch snippets of conversation from the patrons nearby.


    One man excitedly told his friends about a small bag of gray flowers he had bought, eager to enjoy them. Another man complained to his girlfriend about his new, rude neighbors from Pipa Village. But it was a strange riddle whispered between two figures at a nearby table that truly caught Abel¡¯s attention.


    One of the men obviously bigger than the other was wearing a hooded cloak over his cotton clothing, while the other simply looked like a normal civilian. Abel didn''t gaze at them too long to avoid getting attention.


    The bigger guys spoke first, ¡°Tell me little brother, what did they tell you?¡±


    ¡°Towards Mareka, under the sand, lies the meeting of a lifetime, happening on the day after the Flower Dance,¡± the small man said quietly before murmuring a few more things to one another and then proceeding to get up and leave the bar together.


    Abel froze for a moment. The name Mareka was one of the brightest stars in the sky, often visible in the northern hemisphere. But what puzzled Abel was the mention of sand. There were no deserts or areas with sand north of Reinhart. In addition, what was this Flower Dance that was mentioned? Abel had to ask Jet when he saw him again. He wanted to ask the bartender but decided against doing so as he wasn''t sure about the significance of the Dance of Flowers and if it was a secretive thing.


    Intrigued, Abel decided to follow the two men from a distance, keeping his pace slow and casual. They walked in silence, heading from Maple Street towards First Street, occasionally glancing around to ensure they weren¡¯t being followed. Abel used his great senses to maintain a comfortable distance, keeping his presence hidden.


    The two men eventually split off from one another, each going their separate ways. Abel chose to follow the smaller man who had taken a path toward Chestnut Street. The man didn¡¯t seem in a hurry, walking calmly down the street until he reached a modest house. He entered, closing the door quietly behind him.


    Abel walked by the house nonchalantly, taking note of its location. He was sure that this man could lead him to more answers regarding the black market and possibly even the strange happenings in Reinhart. But for now, he wouldn¡¯t make any sudden moves. Patience was key.


    <hr>


    As Abel strolled back to his villa, his thoughts were consumed by the strange riddle. "Towards Mareka, under the sand¡­" he muttered to himself. The faint star he had focused on during his meditation earlier flashed in his mind. Could it be connected?


    His gaze flickered to the sky as he neared his villa, the stars twinkling brightly above him. He knew there was more to this town than what met the eye, and his instincts told him that magic was just the tip of the iceberg. With the black market and the potential involvement of the Vander and Morman family, Abel was prepared for what lay ahead.


    Returning to his villa, Abel reached for his badge and sent a message to his old companions and friends to see how they were fairing in their first days thus far. In addition, he sent greetings to the surrounding apostles too, Iron Knight, Flaming Iris, and Huntsman were the closest, so building a relationship with them now could prove to be helpful in the future. Besides, who knew what these families were planning, it was best to be well prepared.

 Chapter 103: A Nobles Visit

    Chapter 103: A Noble''s Visit


    Abel sent out messages to the nearby apostles and his friends, their replies trickling in as he waited. With each response, he felt a web of support forming quietly around him, reinforcing his confidence in his observations.


    Abels mind still lingered on the mysteriou figure he had encountered in the bar, so when he approached his temporary villa, he made a quick turn nd headed to Chestnut st to take a few extra laps.


    Abel began strolling down the street near the man¡¯s residence, weaving his presence into the everyday flow of the town. His walks appeared casual; he¡¯d pause here and there, glancing idly at the surroundings, blending into the street¡¯s quiet rhythm. Passersby barely noticed him, and he kept his focus light, observing without lingering too long.


    Once satisfied, Abel turned back toward his temporary villa, blending back into the winding streets, his mind already planning the next steps he would take.


    The sun was setting as Abel approached his temporary villa, casting a warm orange glow over the town. As he neared the gate, he noticed a luxurious carriage parked outside. It was adorned with gold trimmings and pulled by finely groomed horses¡ªan obvious display of wealth. Standing beside it was a guard, clad in light armor with a sword strapped to his side. The guard''s sharp eyes locked onto Abel as he approached, and he quickly knocked on the carriage door.


    Abel sighed, regretting that he hadn¡¯t yet moved in the staff he had hired for the villa. If they were present, they could have dealt with these unwanted visitors before they even reached him. Despite being a new arrival, it seemed nobles were eager to get a meeting with him¡ªlikely to probe his intentions in town.


    As Abel reached the gate, the carriage door swung open, revealing a well-dressed nobleman with a pointed nose, neatly trimmed goatee, and a thin mustache. His attire screamed wealth¡ªembroidered silk clothing, adorned with golden accessories that glittered in the fading sunlight.


    The nobleman approached Abel with an exaggerated smile, extending his hand. "Good evening, sir. A pleasure to finally meet you. I am Vander Cinco, of the Cinco family here in Reinhart."


    Abel shook his hand, keeping his expression neutral. "Abel Noria."


    "Ah, yes, Mr. Noria! I¡¯ve heard much about your arrival. Esteemed guests such as yourself don¡¯t often grace our humble town. May I have the honor of a conversation inside?"


    Abel hesitated but ultimately nodded, leading Vander toward the villa. He kept his thoughts to himself, sensing faint traces of mana from Vander. Something about this man felt off. As they approached the entrance, Abel glanced at the guard following them, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.


    "Your guard will need to leave his weapon outside," Abel said, his tone polite but firm.


    The guard¡¯s eyes narrowed. "I don¡¯t think¡ª"


    Abel stepped closer, his calm gaze unwavering. "I insist."


    Vander, sensing the tension, nodded at his guard, who reluctantly removed his sword and left it by the door. The guard shot Abel a cold look before following them inside, clearly unhappy with the situation. Abel wasnt afraid of the sword nor the guard, however, he had to show his authority in his own home.


    Once inside, Abel led them to a spacious, luxurious room adorned with rich wooden furniture and tall windows that let in the last rays of the setting sun. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, thanks to the flowers that decorated the corners of the room. Abel gestured for Vander to sit, and after a moment, offered him tea.


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    "Tea would be delightful," Vander said, reclining into one of the plush chairs.


    Abel moved to the kitchen, quietly making the tea. With his sharp hearing, he caught the guard¡¯s whispered words to Vander. "Just say the word, and I¡¯ll deal with him. He doesn¡¯t look like much."


    Vander chuckled softly. "Looks are always deceiving. Let¡¯s not be too hasty."


    Abel smirked to himself as he carried the tea back into the room, placing it in front of Vander. The guard raised an eyebrow expectantly, clearly waiting for his own cup.


    "I¡¯m afraid I didn¡¯t make enough for three," Abel said with a feigned apology. "Perhaps next time."


    The guard¡¯s face reddened, but Vander waved his hand dismissively, eager to move on. "Thank you, Mr. Noria. Now, I like to be a straightforward man, so I¡¯ll get right to the point."


    Abel sipped his tea, watching Vander closely.


    "I know that you are not just any ordinary guest," Vander began, his voice low and smooth. "You¡¯re here because of your... connections. You belong to an organization that deals with magic. And, like all men with power, you seek to further your personal gain. I respect that."


    Abel raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting Vander continue.


    "That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. I¡¯m a man of means, Mr. Noria. I have resources¡ªmoney, influence¡ªand I am willing to pay for what I want. So, tell me, what would it cost for you to share some of that magical knowledge with me? Or perhaps a magical item or two?"


    Abel chuckled softly, setting down his cup. "I think there¡¯s been some misunderstanding. I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about."


    Vander¡¯s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Come now, Mr. Noria. Let¡¯s not play games. I¡¯ve been in this town long enough to know how things work. You and your kind don¡¯t come here out of the goodness of your hearts. You want something, just as I do."


    "Even if I were connected to some organization, what makes you think I¡¯d be interested in selling anything to you?" Abel asked, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.


    Vander¡¯s expression darkened slightly. "Because Reinhart is a dangerous place, Mr. Noria. There are people here¡ªpowerful people¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t hesitate to make things difficult for you if you don¡¯t align yourself with the right allies. There is magic where you come from but best believe there are some here too."


    Abel¡¯s eyes gleamed with mild interest. "Is that so?"


    "Indeed," Vander said, leaning forward. "I can protect you. I have connections in this town that can ensure you avoid any... unfortunate accidents. All I ask in return is for a little cooperation."


    Abel let a silence stretch between them for a few seconds, then smiled. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Cinco, but I assure you, I¡¯m not too worried."


    Vander frowned, clearly not expecting such a casual dismissal. He stood abruptly, placing his cup on the table. "Well, if you change your mind, my offer still stands. But remember, this town can be... unpredictable."


    Abel remained seated, taking another sip of his tea. "Thank you for the tea, Mr. Noria. I¡¯ll see myself out."


    Abel didn¡¯t bother getting up. "Please do. And close the door behind you."


    Vander¡¯s face twisted in annoyance, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and left, his guard trailing behind him. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the villa.


    Abel chuckled to himself. "Petty," he muttered, swirling the tea in his cup. Vander Cinco was clearly underestimating him. He couldn¡¯t tell if it was ignorance, or if the Cinco family really had some trump card up their sleeves.


    Whatever it was, Abel knew this wouldn¡¯t be the last he heard from Vander and his Cinco family as this validated Abel''s thought that they had a hand in the magical changes in town.


    He leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. The town of Reinhart was proving to be far more complicated than he¡¯d anticipated, and with people like Vander lurking around, he would have to tread carefully.


    Taking one last sip of tea, Abel rose and walked to the window. The sun had fully set, and the moonlight bathed the town in a pale glow. He watched the streets for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around him.

 Chapter 104: Abduction

    Chapter 104: Abduction


    Abel stepped out of his villa, the quiet night air cooling his face as he made his way towards Fourth Street. Hours had passed since Vander¡¯s visit, and his thoughts swirled as he aimed to clear his head with a walk. Reinhart was peaceful at night, though recently there had been murmurs of strange disappearances after sundown, even the reports Jet gave him mentioned so¡ªparticularly on Fourth Street a small street between Fifth and Third. Abel figured it was as good a time as any to investigate, or at least access the situation and general vibe of the environment.


    As he walked down the cobblestone road, the town was eerily silent. He wore his hood, which made him almost unrecognizable. The occasional hoot of an owl echoed in the distance, and the dim street lanterns cast long shadows against the stone buildings. He passed a few homes, their windows dark as their inhabitants slept soundly inside. The air felt thick with a kind of tension, something lurking just beneath the surface of the ordinary town.


    Suddenly, a hooded figure appeared, turning from Chestnut Street and walking down Fourth Street toward him. Abel noted the figure''s movements¡ªtheir steps deliberate and cautious. There was a strange familiarity to this person''s walk. As they passed one another, Abel¡¯s senses tingled. Magic. He could sense traces of it emanating from the person. It felt faint yet real.


    The figure stopped abruptly, and so did Abel, turning slightly to observe him. It was obvious now that the figure had intentions. Abel smirked inwardly. Mundanes with magical artifacts always thought they were untouchable. The gap in power between a mere human with an artifact and an Apostle was laughable, and Abel was well aware of his superiority.


    The figure turned slowly, raising a masked face that revealed almost nothing at this time of night, and proceeded to pull out a chained watch from his cloak. The man began to swing the watch side to side, murmuring a strange ritual under his breath, it sounded foreign with each word causing the watch to vibrate intensely. The watch glew with a faint pinkish light as it moved side to side like a pendulum. Abel felt a wave of energy brush over him¡ªit was weak but designed to control minds or at least perspective. If he was a mundane, this attack, might¡¯ve had some affect, but on him, this was children''s play, especially compared to the holy nectar of the illusory world that entrapped his mind and body when he was in the expedition.


    Abel decided to play along.


    Feigning the effects of mind control, he let his body slacken slightly, his expression dulling. The man chuckled triumphantly, believing his trick had worked. He took a good look at Abel¡¯s face which was lightly obscured by the hood he wore to confirm he was trully under control. He approached Abel and commanded him to follow. Abel obliged, allowing himself to be led further into the town, feeling amused at how gullible the man was and how much faith he placed in his simple artifact.


    The streets were deserted, making their journey swift. Abel noted the fact that there simply weren''t enough patrolling officers around, something he would have to ask Burt about. The figure led Abel to the same house he had noticed earlier¡ªthe one connected to the man he had followed from the bar. Abel¡¯s curiosity piqued as the man tied his arms with a rope and blindfolded him. Of course, the bindings were paper-thin to Abel¡¯s Apostolic strength, but he remained docile, listening carefully for any useful information.


    Another voice greeted the man, clearly a second individual involved in whatever plot was unfolding.


    "Got another one, huh?" the second man asked, his voice hoarse and filled with glee.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Yeah big bro," the man with the watch replied. "This one''s clean. He was easy. We¡¯ll have enough for the ritual soon."


    They spoke openly, thinking Abel was under their full control.


    "The new night bazaar will be glorious," the younger brother boasted, clearly excited. "With the materials we gather, we¡¯ll create an artifact that''ll make us rich after we sell it at the next meeting. Maybe even the one most wealthy in Reinhart!"


    "Yeah, with the ritual we bought from the last bazaar and the right sacrifices, we''ll enchant the weapon and be unstoppable."


    The mention of enchantment caught Abel¡¯s attention. There was something deeper going on here. This wasn¡¯t just petty crime¡ªit was connected to the night bazaar which was another name for the black market that Jet had mentioned, and these men were trying to craft powerful magical items to sell. This Idea peaked his interest due to the knowledge book he used to possess back in the tower. This could be something that helps him learn more of these so called enchantments.


    "Throw him in the room with the others," the second man ordered.


    Abel was guided into a room and shoved inside, the door closing behind him with a loud thud. His acute hearing picked up whimpering and cries. There were others in the room, no doubt ordinary townsfolk caught up in this grim scheme. The air smelled of sweat, dirt, and fear, heavy and oppressive.


    Despite the grim situation, Abel remained calm. He had the power to end this whenever he wanted, but now wasn¡¯t the time. Acting too quickly would expose his presence, and he wasn¡¯t ready to show his hand. The greater goal was information¡ªhe needed to understand who these men worked for, how the night bazaar operated, and who else was involved.


    He could feel the fear in the room around him, the despair of those trapped, and it kindled a small flame of anger inside him. But Abel had always been patient. He knew that rushing in would jeopardize everything. So, he sat silently, his mind carefully processing every sound and word spoken by the men outside.


    "They said the ritual circle needs to be painted with their blood," one man said. "Then we carve the symbols on their bones. Ten buckets of blood from them, and we¡¯ll have enough for the enchantment."


    "The last bazaar didn¡¯t have anything this good, Cant believe this was real, ontop of the fact that we were also able to buy the watch, we might become powerful figues in reinhart soon enough" the other man replied. "We really hit the jackpot with this one bro."


    Abel¡¯s ears perked up as he listened intently. The ritual was a means of creating magical weapons¡ªclearly, these two brothers were trying to move up in Reinhart¡¯s growing underworld, hoping to capitalize on the town¡¯s increasing hunger for magical artifacts.


    Though Abel had no desire to play hero, the thought of these two bumbling criminals killing many innocent lives and amassing enough power to disrupt the town¡¯s balance was concerning. His goal wasn¡¯t to save the captives in this room¡ªnot directly, at least. But he needed to stop the brothers before they succeeded in creating a powerful artifact that could throw the entire town into chaos.


    As the men outside continued talking, Abel¡¯s mind worked quickly. He needed more details, more names. The brothers were clearly small-time criminals, but someone had sold them the ritual and the crafting technique¡ªsomeone with deeper connections to the magical black market. If Abel could trace this back to the source, he could learn more about how the underworld in Reinhart functioned.


    His lips curled into a faint smile. He had stumbled upon far more than he had expected tonight. His decision to follow that man on Fourth Street had paid off, and now he had the chance to uncover secrets that could aid him in his mission.


    For now, though, he would wait. Let the night unfold. Let the brothers think they were in control. Abel was always focused on the bigger picture¡ªhis own growth and his family¡¯s well-being. Everything else was secondary.


    The cries of the prisoners softened in the background as Abel¡¯s thoughts deepened. He had always despised injustice, but life had taught him that patience was the key to mastering both power and survival. Acting on impulse never ended well, he told himself thinking back at Lorne who had a hero''s heart but ultimately met his demise by FiendFinger. And tonight, patience would reward him with the answers he sought.

 Chapter 105: Unveiling Secrets

    Chapter 105: Unveiling Secrets


    The room where the brothers plotted was dimly lit, casting shadows that danced across the stone walls. The space felt claustrophobic and cluttered, filled with strange powders, bones, and ritualistic materials stacked haphazardly. The air was thick with the earthy smell of herbs and dried plants, mingling with a more pungent, metallic scent¡ªlikely from dried blood. The flickering light from a single lantern threw ominous shapes across the brothers¡¯ faces, enhancing their already sinister expressions.


    The brothers themselves wore dark, tattered robes¡ªevidence of their attempt to mimic some higher magical order. Both men¡¯s bushy eyebrows and oval faces looked eerily similar, their beady eyes reflecting greed and fear. The younger brother, slightly more skittish, fidgeted with a kitchen knife in one hand while his other hand swung a chain-bound watch that shimmered faintly with magic. The older brother, more composed but just as vile, paced the room, occasionally picking up dried herbs or peering into a sack of collected bones. The scent of decay hung around him.


    "Maybe we should sell the artifact once it¡¯s complete. I bet we could get a hundred thousand coins easy," the younger brother chuckled, though there was nervousness behind his excitement. He scratched his chin, eyes darting to the materials piled on a worn wooden table.


    The older brother stopped pacing and gave a low laugh, the shadows stretching behind him ominously. "Or maybe we keep it and take over the town ourselves," he mused, though his voice carried doubt. "But no, there are stronger artifacts in this town. We¡¯re not the only ones looking for a shortcut to power." His voice lowered as if admitting a hidden fear.


    The younger brother shifted uneasily, his voice dropping. "But how do we even know this ritual works? What if we just end up with a room full of blood and bones for nothing? Doyou know how long it would take to clean some of that dried blood?"


    The older brother¡¯s face twisted into a smirk as he approached the table. "The seller was clear. We carve the symbols into the bones, paint the circle with their blood, and then, once the chant is done, we¡¯ll channel the mana from the world into the artifact. Normally, we¡¯d need the blood of a magical beast, but the seller said human blood works just as well¡ªif we add a few extra magical words." He paused, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. "It¡¯ll draw power from the world, and once the enchantment is complete, whatever we place in the circle will become a weapon unlike any other."


    Taking a moment to breathe, he continued. ¡°The watch he has given us works. And it has been a huge help in gathering these fools, so why shouldn''t we trust the ritual? We have physical proof that magic is real.¡±


    The younger brother gulped, staring at the array of bones and powders, now more aware of their eerie significance. "And you''re sure it¡¯s gonna work? We only get one shot at this, otherwise, I''m sure gathering this many people within one room again will be very difficult."


    The older brother snapped back, his voice sharp. "Of course, it''ll work. We''ll follow the instructions exactly as we were told. This town¡¯s never seen real magic before, but once we have this artifact, we¡¯ll be untouchable." His voice faltered, betraying a hint of anxiety. "The mayor doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s happening, or if he does, he¡¯s too scared to admit it. Either way, he won¡¯t be a problem for much longer."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    A strange mad look was evident on the big brother¡¯s face as his long wish of gaining power and money was almost in his hand. Even the little brother seemed a little afraid of his brother''s sinister look, as there was a strange vile feeling emanating from him.


    They continued preparing the ritual, their conversation punctuated by the clatter of materials and the rustling of robes as they moved. The younger brother spoke up again, his voice filled with awe. "If the mayor knew about all this magic, why wouldn¡¯t he tell the town? Wouldn¡¯t he want the power for himself?"


    The older brother¡¯s laughter was bitter, a sound that echoed in the cramped room. "The mayor might be ignorant, but more likely, he¡¯s scared. He knows if the town starts figuring out magic, he¡¯ll lose control. We¡¯ll be the ones with power."


    As the two brothers continued talking, the room suddenly grew silent when they heard a faint clicking sound¡ªthe door handle slowly turning. They both froze, exchanging nervous glances.


    "You think they¡¯re trying to escape?" the older brother growled, anger creeping into his voice. "Idiots. Tied up and blindfolded, and they think they can get out."


    The younger brother drew his knife, the blade glinting dangerously in the dim light as he crept toward the door. His watch swung hypnotically from side to side, murmuring the beginning of a binding spell, as the younger brother prepared for the worst.


    The door creaked open slowly, revealing Abel standing calmly in the doorway. His eyes, calm and inscrutable, locked onto the two brothers as he stepped into the room. The lantern light flickered against his face, casting long shadows, but Abel didn¡¯t flinch.


    "How...how did you get out?" the younger brother stammered, his voice rising an octave in panic. He raised the watch higher, swinging it wildly, as the knife in his hands trembled slightly, his earlier confidence faltering. "You¡¯ll pay for this, I swear! Take one step, and¡ª"


    Abel¡¯s expression remained eerily calm, his voice soft but filled with an unsettling amusement. "You¡¯re the ones who should worry," he said coolly, his presence suddenly overwhelming the room. There was no fear in his eyes, only the quiet certainty of someone who had long surpassed the likes of these two brothers. He wanted his questions answered.


    The younger brother¡¯s hands trembled as he looked back at his sibling for reassurance. But the older brother, usually calm and composed, looked just as shaken. His voice faltered. "What... what are you? If you have an artifact so do we!"


    Abel took a step forward, his voice even quieter now, carrying the weight of a promise. "I¡¯m the one who¡¯s going to end this farce."


    The two brothers took an instinctive step back as the room seemed to shrink around them, the once-cluttered space now suffocating under Abel''s presence. The shadows grew longer, the air colder, and in that moment, it became clear that the ritual they thought would bring them power was nothing compared to the force standing before them.


    The younger brother, gripping his knife until his knuckles turned white, raised it in a final act of defiance. "You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re messing with!" he shouted, his voice breaking under the weight of his own fear.


    Abel¡¯s lips curled into a dangerous smile, his eyes gleaming in the dim light as he pulled out his dagger and played with it in between his fingers. "Oh I know, that''s what I''m about to find out."


    Things had changed quickly and the older brother was quickly thinking of ways out of this situation. He knew who to avoid and who not to start any issues with. This man in front of him wasn''t anyone he had met before, therefore he was unsure of how this would go. He cursed his younger brother inwardly blaming him for not trying the ropes around correctly. He stepped forward standing next to his little brother as Abel smiled murmuring just loud enough for the two brothers to hear, ¡°Good¡­¡±

 Chapter 106: A Blade’s Judgment

    Chapter 106: A Blade¡¯s Judgment


    Abel wasn''t particularly worried about the two brothers standing before him. Compared to the magical beasts in the Stone Forest or his experiences at the Tower, this situation seemed trivial. He observed them with calm detachment, sensing their anxiety despite their blustering confidence.


    "Who do you work for?" Abel asked casually, though his tone carried the weight of command.


    The older brother, the bigger man with a ratty cloak draped over his hunched frame, attempted to keep his composure. He puffed out his chest, his beady eyes narrowing. "We work for someone very powerful in Reinhart," he bluffed. His voice shook slightly, betraying the bravado he was trying to project. "If you don''t go back you will surely regret it. Just let us tie you up again."


    The younger brother, a thinner and more twitchy version of his sibling, eagerly backed up the bluff. "Yeah! You don¡¯t stand a chance if you don¡¯t stop causing trouble!"


    Abel shook his head, unfazed. "And who might that be?" His voice was dripping with amusement.


    "You don¡¯t deserve to know," the older brother spat out. "Someone like you could never understand the magical world hiding in plain sight! We''ve taken the lives of more people than an ignorant fool like you have ever seen!" His tone turned haughty, trying desperately to regain control of the conversation.


    Abel let out a laugh, the sound echoing off the grimy stone walls of the room. The noise only deepened the tense atmosphere.


    "You should¡¯ve untied the others to help you," the younger brother snapped, regaining some of his earlier arrogance. "Because there¡¯s no way you can take us both down!"


    The elder tried to interject, his face turning red with embarrassment, but before he could stop him, the younger brother lunged at Abel. His hand swung wildly toward Abel''s face, but it was clumsy, fueled more by fear than any real skill.


    With a simple sidestep, Abel effortlessly dodged the attack. His movements were smooth and fluid, almost casual. Before the younger brother could react, Abel twisted his arm behind his back in one quick motion and held a dagger to his throat.


    After absorbing the faint star in the sky, Abel experienced a profound transformation. His once-lean physique had become subtly but noticeably more defined, with compact muscles rippling beneath his skin. He felt an extraordinary vitality coursing through his veins, as if his body had been awakened on a cellular level.


    The most striking change was in his agility and strength¡ªabilities that surpassed anything he had ever known. Each movement felt precise and effortless, his speed uncanny, his strength deceptively overwhelming for his lean frame.


    The older brother cursed, a mixture of frustration and fear clouding his features. "You fool," he snapped at his sibling, "always too damn careless!"


    Abel tightened his grip on the younger brother. "You know," he mused, his voice dangerously calm, "I don¡¯t have time for games. Now, tell me what you know about this ritual."


    The older brother hesitated, his mind racing to find a way out. Abel pressed the blade closer to the younger brother¡¯s neck, causing a thin line of blood to appear.


    "Fine!" the older brother snarled. "It''s a ritual I learned from a man at the Night Bazaar. He sold me the instructions, the items, everything. The circle drawn in blood, the engravings on bones¡ªit¡¯s all part of the process. We''re using human blood to bypass the need for magical beasts. It¡¯ll give power to whatever item we place in the circle, although there are some dangers¡­ We¡¯ve tried a similar ritual before using the body of animals and the blood of the elderly but it never bore fruit, but this time¡­"


    Abel narrowed his eyes, intrigued. This knowledge reminded him of something he''d read back at the Tower minus the gruesomeness, perhaps in one of the forbidden sections of the Wall of Scrolls, but also his initial Knowledge book. "Who sold you this information? And your plan was truly to kill these people?"


    The older brother¡¯s eyes flickered, and for a moment, Abel saw the briefest hint of cunning. "I don¡¯t¡ª" He didn¡¯t finish the sentence. Instead, he lunged toward Abel with a kitchen knife, hoping to catch him off guard.


    But Abel was already gone, darting to the side before the older man¡¯s blade could even come close. He released the younger brother, tossing him aside like a ragdoll, and dashed across the room, avoiding the attack easily.


    The older brother was much larger than Abel, but that size came with a price¡ªhe was slow. His movements, while powerful, were clumsy and lacked precision. Abel could see every swing coming long before it reached him.


    The man spun around to face Abel, his chest heaving, and raised the knife again thinking of charging. But Abel was already there, moving with the speed and grace of an experienced warrior. His small dagger, gifted to him by his parents, gleamed in the dim light. In one swift motion, Abel plunged it into the older brother¡¯s torso.


    Thud!


    Thud!


    Thud!


    ¡­


    The older man gasped, his eyes wide with shock. He barely had time to process the first stab before Abel struck again, and again. Seven quick, precise thrusts landed on his chest before Abel leaped back, out of reach.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The older brother staggered, his hand weakly trying to grasp Abel, but his body was betraying him. Blood gushed from his wounds, each one spurting crimson onto the floor. His eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and disbelief as he murmured gurgling blood out of his mouth, "Monster¡­"


    He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his body shook for a moment before it went still; apart from the occasional twitch causing more blood to leave his mouth and wounds.


    The younger brother, now watching the scene in horror, broke down into sobs. "Y-You¡¯re a monster!" he screamed, scrambling to back away, but the wall behind him blocked his escape. His eyes darted around, desperate for a way out. He could barely even process the speed at which the person in front of him had moved in. Who had they messed with? This was supposed to be a simple abduction of their last missing peace for the ritual.


    Abel turned toward him, his expression unreadable. The younger brother tried to hold out the watch, as if the trinket would offer him some protection. But it did nothing.


    Abel walked calmly over to the younger brother, each step deliberate. He knelt, plucking the watch from the man¡¯s trembling hands and tucking it into his robe.  "Now," he said quietly, "tell me about the Bazaar. Where is it? What is the Dance of Flowers exactly? Speak now or end up like that brother of yours over there. At least I''ll make your death short and painless."


    Abel points to the side toward the laying big brother who was still twitching occasionally, and still showering the floor with crimson liquids. The big brother was obviously not dead yet, as he seemed to be suffering unable to die momentarily.


    The younger brother, tears streaming down his face, was too terrified to lie. "It¡¯s in a cave to the north," he whimpered. "There¡¯s quicksand¡­ you have to hold five different flowers when you step on it, or the sand won¡¯t take you down¡­ It''s a holiday, man... How dont you know this¡­"


    Abel raised an eyebrow not caring about the last part of what the younger brother said. "And the man who sold you the ritual?"


    "He was wearing a rat mask! Everyone at the Bazaar wears masks that cover their whole faces. That¡¯s all I know!" the younger brother cried, his voice breaking.


    "Anyone else in town with magical artifacts?" Abel pressed.


    "We¡­ we bluffed earlier. We work for the Murman family sometimes doing odd jobs. They deal with strange things¡­ They gave us the information to the Bazaar, that¡¯s all I know, I swear!"


    Abel studied the man for a moment longer, then straightened up, sheathing his knife. ¡±Our conversation is over." He was satisfied with the information gathered, he even contemplated using this person to do his dirty work in the town, but why rely on such clumsy people when he could do an easier and quicker job? Besides, these two individuals had killed many people in the past and their sins could never be forgiven.


    Abel gave one last pity look toward the younger brother, ¡°You can end your own life now as you please.¡±


    The younger brother¡¯s face twisted as he knew he couldn''t come to terms with ending his own life, his hand shook as he gripped the kitchen knife. Abel shook his head in disappointment as he pulled out the watch he had taken from the younger brother before. Abel could tell that the watch was barely considered an artifact as the mana it possessed was very minimal, however, it truly did have some uses.


    Abel¡¯s voice was steady and devoid of emotion as he commanded, ¡°Try it now.¡± With a surge of mana, the watch trembled in his hand, its surface glowing faintly with a pinkish aura, although barely considered a magical artifact, it had its uses. The younger brother¡¯s expression went slack, his glazed eyes devoid of will as the artifact took control. Like a marionette, he raised the knife clutched in his trembling hand and plunged it into his chest. His body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, lifeless, a pool of blood spreading to meet the cold remains of his brother nearby.


    Abel¡¯s face remained impassive, his sharp gaze drifting momentarily over the two bodies. With methodical precision, he began collecting the remnants of the ritual¡ªscraps of parchment, strange powders, and bone fragments¡ªinto a bag, his movements deliberate and silent. He paused as he prepared to leave, a faint sound catching his ear from the adjacent room.


    The muffled cries and soft sobbing led him to the room where the captives were held. The sight was grim: several men and women, some gaunt and pale, others bound so tightly their skin had begun to bruise. Among them, a single figure stood out¡ªa woman who remained eerily calm amidst the chaos. Her posture was steady, her breathing controlled, and though she bore the marks of captivity, she seemed unbroken.


    Abel¡¯s blade sliced cleanly through the ropes binding her, the sharp sound silencing the sobs for a brief moment. ¡°Release the others once I¡¯m gone,¡± he instructed, his voice low but commanding. Without removing her blindfold, the woman gave a single, resolute nod.


    Satisfied, Abel turned and melted into the shadows, his footsteps fading into the eerie quiet of the aftermath. Moments later, the woman pulled off her blindfold, her grimace deepening at the state of the room. Her eyes darted over the other captives¡ªsome were children, their frail bodies trembling as they huddled in the corners. It was clear many of them had been there for days, their faces etched with hunger and fear.


    Clutching the severed ropes in her trembling hands, she began moving to untie the others, her mind racing with questions about the enigmatic figure who had freed her.


    The woman stood by the doorway, her gaze falling upon the grisly sight of the two brothers'' lifeless bodies sprawled on the floor. Blood pooled around them, its crimson tide seeping into the room where the captives were tied. She gagged, her stomach lurching, but years of experience as an Enforcement Officer took over, steadying her quickly. Breathing deeply, she suppressed the wave of nausea and focused.


    Her boots squelched in the blood as she stepped outside, leaving behind smeared, darkened tracks. She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small brass bell, its metal cool against her fingers. The fact that these bothers didnt search her for extra items showed their inexperience or rush to get whatever diabolical actions they were planning going. With a purposeful shake, the bell rang out sharply, its piercing chime shattering the stillness of the night. The sound echoed through the streets, a signal recognized by all enforcement personnel¡ªa desperate call for backup.


    As the last echoes faded, she paused, scanning the area for any sign of movement. The eerie silence persisted, broken only by her heavy breaths and the distant rustle of leaves. Gratitude flickered briefly in her mind¡ªshe owed her freedom, and likely her life, to whoever had intervened. Though the shadows gave no clue to her savior¡¯s identity, she silently promised herself to make use of the opportunity she¡¯d been given.


    Returning to the room of captives, she moved with renewed urgency. Her hands trembled as she untied the first of the ropes binding a frightened child, her composure sharpening as she murmured reassuring words. ¡°You¡¯re safe now. Just hold on a little longer.¡± The child¡¯s wide, tear-streaked eyes reflected a fragile trust, and it strengthened her resolve.


    Her gaze swept over the room, determination replacing fear. The sight of those still tied filled her with a sense of duty. Whatever darkness had led to this moment, she vowed to ensure that these people would find safety again¡ªand to uncover the truth behind the horrifying events that had unfolded.

 Chapter 107: A Night of Resolve

    Chapter 107: A Night of Resolve


    Abel dashed across the rooftops, his body light and nimble as he moved under the dark, starlit sky. The bell''s sound echoed behind him, he knew this was how the officers communicated but he paid it no mind. He was heading back to his temporary villa after a long night of discoveries, exhilarated by the information he had uncovered. The cool night air felt refreshing, and the presence of the stars above gave him a sense of calmness and power, as though the starlight itself was guiding him home.


    He leaped from roof to roof with an effortless grace, each landing soft and controlled, barely making a sound. His control of every muscle was clearly at its peak, and by the day he felt his body change and improve, reborn anew from the star he had consumed. The streets below were quiet, eerie even, with most of the townspeople locked away in their homes for the night. Abel wasn''t concerned about the outcome as the strange feeling he had felt seemed to vanish that same night, however, he would restrain his desire to consume stellar bodies for the moment, as he was unsure of the dangers that lurked in the sky. His thoughts swirled with the plans he had for the following day¡ªmoving his belongings into his new Starry Villa, welcoming his housekeeper, and beginning his deep dive into the mysteries of encryption and enchantments.


    He was also curious about the Murman family, a name that hadn¡¯t been on the center of his radar until now. If they were hiring people for magical tasks, it would be worth learning more about their involvement in the town. Tomorrow, he''d ask Jet for information about them, as well as about the upcoming Dance of Flowers holiday. The festival was widely celebrated in Reinhart, and Abel wanted to understand more about its significance, especially how it might tie into the town¡¯s magical undercurrents.


    As he neared First Street, the villa''s gates came into view. He slowed down, blending seamlessly with the quiet of the night, his mind now calm and composed. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.


    <hr>


    The scene of the brothers¡¯ gruesome deaths was chaotic. Enforcement officers swarmed the house, meticulously combing through its every corner. The cries of terrified survivors filled the air, their pale faces and trembling bodies a testament to the horrors they had endured. Officers, trying their best to maintain composure, offered reassurance while escorting the victims to safety.


    Burt, the head of law enforcement, arrived with two officers, his hardened demeanor betraying the weight of the situation. His sharp eyes scanned the carnage, taking in the blood-streaked floor and the broken remnants of the brothers¡¯ operation. ¡°What in the world happened here?¡± he demanded, his tone gruff yet steady.


    Jenny, the officer freed earlier by Abel, stepped forward. Her uniform bore signs of the ordeal¡ªdirt and blood streaked her sleeves¡ªbut her stance was firm. Recognizing her, Burt asked with concern, ¡°Jenny, are you alright?¡±


    Jenny nodded, her expression grim. ¡°Yes, sir. But it¡¯s... complicated.¡± She recounted the events in detail. ¡°The younger brother approached me while I was patrolling. He claimed to need help but used a strange technique¡ªpossibly linked to the glowing watch he was holding¡ªto control me. I felt paralyzed, like my mind and body weren¡¯t my own.¡±


    She paused, her voice steady despite the unease in her eyes. ¡°They tied me up and masked themselves, but the dim light made identification nearly impossible. Hours later, someone else was brought in¡ªa stranger. There was a scuffle, and that person freed me before leaving. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing.¡±


    Burt''s jaw tightened. ¡°And they took something, didn¡¯t they?¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Jenny hesitated, then nodded. ¡°Yes. Tools for some kind of ritual. It¡¯s clear they had plans¡ªdark ones¡ªbut whatever those plans were, they¡¯re gone now.¡±


    Burt let out a heavy sigh. ¡°This just keeps getting worse.¡± His fingers pressed against his temples as he absorbed her words. ¡°We can¡¯t let the townspeople know about this. The last thing we need is panic. Here¡¯s the story: these brothers went rogue, got into a fight, and it ended... messily. Nothing more.¡±


    Jenny hesitated, her skepticism evident. ¡°What about the watch? That wasn¡¯t exactly normal, sir. What do we tell people if they ask?¡±


    Burt¡¯s brow furrowed as he weighed the options. ¡°We¡¯ll say they used Sleep Flower powder¡ªa hallucinogen from the south. It explains the unusual behavior. Keep searching for the watch. If it¡¯s still here, it could reveal more about what they were doing. If not...¡± His voice trailed off, the implications clear.


    Glancing at the surrounding officers, Burt barked orders. ¡°Double your efforts. This scene needs to be secured, and I want a full report on my desk by sunrise. No detail is too small.¡±


    As he turned to leave, his steps slowed. The unsettling thought that magical artifacts were spreading through the town gnawed at him. It wasn¡¯t the first incident, and it wouldn¡¯t be the last. If this trend continued, Reinhart could face a catastrophe.


    Pausing at the door, Burt added grimly, ¡°Jenny, take care of the survivors. I need to speak with Mayor Elliot about this mess. Keep this quiet until we have more answers.¡±


    Jenny nodded, turning back to the room where survivors huddled together. Their wide, fearful eyes met hers as she knelt to reassure them. Despite her exhaustion, she felt a renewed determination to uncover the truth. Whatever dark forces were at play, Reinhart¡¯s peace hung by a thread¡ªand she wasn¡¯t about to let it snap.


    <hr>


    As Abel entered his villa, a deep sense of contemplation washed over him. The soft click of the door shutting behind him echoed through the quiet halls, blending seamlessly with the faint hum of the night outside. He set the bag containing the remnants of the ritual near the entrance, his movements deliberate, as though each step carried the weight of the night¡¯s events. The brothers¡¯ deaths, the strange watch now in his possession, and the unsettling aura that lingered¡ªit all painted a picture of a town teetering on the edge of something darker.


    He crossed the room to the large windows overlooking the garden. The stars above continued their silent vigil, their serene light filtering through the glass to dance across the polished floor. For Abel, they were more than just celestial ornaments; they were a reminder of the infinite mysteries of the universe, an anchor in a world rapidly growing more complex.


    Abel let his gaze drift across the garden, where flowers swayed gently in the night breeze, their vibrant colors muted under the night. There was an eerie beauty to the scene¡ªa fragile tranquility that stood in stark contrast to the chaos brewing beneath Reinhart¡¯s surface. His mind churned with questions: Who was supplying these magical artifacts? What were the Murman family¡¯s true intentions? And how did the threads of these mysteries intertwine with the town¡¯s recent unsettling occurrences?


    The watch felt heavier in his pocket, its presence a constant reminder of the secrets it held. He retrieved it, letting the faint, pinkish light reflect off its surface. Abel studied it carefully, his sharp eyes tracing the intricate designs carved into the metal.


    With a sigh, Abel tucked the watch back into his robe, his movements slow and deliberate. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as he turned away from the window and moved toward the stairs. His body was beginning to feel the weight of the night¡¯s exertions. Tomorrow, a new chapter of his life would begin in the Starry Villa, a fitting name for the sanctuary he now called home. It would be a fresh start, one that promised challenges and revelations in equal measure.


    He paused at the foot of the staircase, his thoughts still lingering on the night¡¯s events. The brothers had mentioned the Bazaar, the strange rituals, and the Dance of Flowers¡ªthreads that all seemed to lead somewhere. Abel¡¯s resolve hardened. Reinhart¡¯s mysteries weren¡¯t going to unravel themselves, and he was determined to uncover the truth.


    The stairs creaked softly under his weight as he ascended, his mind already working through the plans for the days ahead. For now, he would rest. The stars above would watch over him, their light a constant reminder that even in the darkest of times, clarity could be found.

 Chapter 108: Home

    Chapter 108: Home


    The morning air was cool and fresh as Abel stepped outside, carrying only a small pack containing his few personal items. Today marked the beginning of his stay at his new residence, the Starry Villa, and he was eager to see the place in full daylight. Waiting outside, however, was a surprise: a sleek, dark green caravan with gilded accents parked in front of his temporary villa. The caravan glistened faintly in the morning sun, its finish polished to a high shine, and drawn by two muscular gray horses. Abel blinked in surprise as Jet, standing proudly next to the vehicle, gestured for him to step forward.


    "Good morning, Mister Abel," Jet greeted with a formal bow, though his voice held a note of excitement. "I had a caravan prepared for you. Father agreed that someone of your station shouldn¡¯t be seen walking about on foot¡ªespecially with some of the eyes of the town on you."


    Abel let out a small chuckle, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the gesture. "Well, it feels a little unnecessary, but I can¡¯t say I dislike the thoughtfulness." Jet¡¯s genuine enthusiasm softened the formality of the situation, making the whole affair feel less ostentatious.


    Jet smiled, opening the caravan door with a flourish. "Allow me to escort you to the Starry Villa. Everything has been prepared, and it¡¯s been furnished for you. I¡¯ve ensured all the finer details were seen to."


    Abel climbed into the caravan, glancing out the window as they began moving down the cobblestone path. Outside, he could see townsfolk stopping to watch, a few waving at the spectacle, while others seemed to eye the caravan curiously. Private carriages were a luxury in Reinhart, usually reserved for the wealthiest families, so it was unsurprising that the townsfolk took notice. As they moved through the town center, passing open shops, cheerful market-goers, and bustling small stalls, Abel allowed himself a moment to relax and enjoy the journey. His eyes drifted to the people haggling over fresh fruits, laughing at small gatherings, and making their way across the bustling streets, all going about their lives seemingly unburdened by the shadowy happenings in the town.


    Jet¡¯s face darkened, bringing Abel¡¯s attention back into the cabin. "There was¡­ an incident last night," he said, lowering his voice. "Two brothers were found dead, brutally murdered. And not just that¡ªit was as if they¡¯d been planning something malicious. There are whispers about it being an evil magical ritual amongst the nobles."


    Abel nodded, keeping his expression neutral despite already knowing much more about the incident than Jet likely suspected. "Two brothers?" he repeated, feigning curiosity as he let Jet elaborate.


    Jet nodded, his brows furrowed with concern. "Yes. They were known troublemakers, but even so never to this extent, and the way it happened¡ªso sudden, so brutal¡ªhas left people in shock. The law enforcement suspects foul play but isn¡¯t sure who might be behind it."


    Abel allowed his expression to harden, feigning a sense of seriousness as he replied, ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out, Jet. I was planning on speaking to Burt soon after I got settled at the villa. Perhaps he¡¯ll have more insight.¡±


    Jet shifted uncomfortably, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. ¡°Honestly, don¡¯t take Burt¡¯s attitude too seriously¡­ He does care for this town. With everything going on lately, he¡¯s had more on his plate than usual.¡± Jet paused, his gaze drifting to the window. ¡°Besides, the last¡­ ¡®guest¡¯ we had didn¡¯t do us any favors.¡±


    Abel raised an eyebrow. "Did he now?"


    Jet nodded, a hint of irritation crossing his face. ¡°You could say he caused more harm than good. People thought he¡¯d be a protector, but he only fueled problems. It¡¯s why people are wary of outsiders, especially those who are¡­ knowledgeable in magic. That¡¯s why Burt¡¯s cautious around you.¡±


    Abel¡¯s curiosity piqued. He nodded slowly, understanding the importance of making a good impression¡ªand the hurdles he¡¯d need to overcome.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    As the caravan approached Starry Villa, Abel¡¯s eyes fell upon the grand estate. It was beautiful, with large, arched windows that allowed sunlight to flood the interior and a domed skylight that shimmered like polished glass. From the outside, the villa¡¯s stone walls seemed to gleam with an understated elegance, and a tall iron gate marked the entrance, decorated with delicate floral patterns that gave a nod to the town¡¯s love for nature.


    Jet opened the caravan door, stepping aside for Abel to exit. "Welcome to your new home, Abel," he said, bowing again.


    Abel stepped forward, taking in the vibrant flowerbeds that lined the path up to the front door, each flower as meticulously arranged as if preparing for a royal visit. The sight pleased him, filling him with a sense of calm as he moved toward the house. Entering the villa, the spacious layout, colorful d¨¦cor, and warm light filtering through the skylight all contributed to an immediate feeling of warmth and welcome. The wooden beams were rich in color, the floors were made of polished stone, and the walls were decorated with art that reflected the town¡¯s floral heritage.


    "It¡¯s incredible, Jet," Abel said sincerely. "I have to thank your father for this."


    Jet nodded. "He¡¯ll be glad to hear it. We¡¯ve also arranged for staff to arrive in a few hours. They¡¯ll handle various duties, and I made sure the head chef and caretaker would meet with you today to go over your preferences."


    Abel couldn¡¯t deny that the attention to detail was impressive, though he couldn¡¯t shake the sense that this hospitality came with its own price. It was clear to him that the mayor saw him as a powerful ally and was likely hoping to secure that relationship. He gave Jet a small nod. "Please tell your father I appreciate his generosity."


    Jet smiled, seemingly relieved. "Absolutely. I¡¯ll pass along your gratitude."


    As Abel wandered the villa, he took his time examining each room. There was a spacious kitchen, a luxurious common area, and several bedrooms that were carefully furnished to reflect the town¡¯s rustic yet elegant style. He could easily imagine making this place a home, a base of operations. When he finally reached the basement, he felt a jolt of excitement¡ªan open, empty space just waiting to be transformed into his personal laboratory. He envisioned the layout, already planning where he might place various magical tools and objects to conduct his experiments. It was the perfect setting, a private space that would allow him to dive deep into his studies.


    Jet followed behind him, watching Abel¡¯s expressions with satisfaction. "Everything meets your approval?" he asked, a touch of pride in his voice.


    "More than meets it," Abel replied. "When can I expect the staff?"


    "A few hours from now," Jet answered, leading Abel back upstairs. "Once they arrive, they¡¯ll receive their assigned duties, but the head chef and caretaker will meet you first to go over details like meals and specific needs for the villa."


    "Good," Abel replied. "It seems I¡¯ll have a lot of support."


    Jet nodded, and a thought seemed to cross his mind. "One more thing," he added. "The Dance of Flowers festival is in a few days. It¡¯s a town tradition. We honor a princess who once blessed this land, and ever since, we¡¯ve held the festival in her memory. She¡¯s seen as a kind of guardian spirit of the town, and people believe as long as the flowers bloom, she¡¯ll watch over Reinhart."


    Abel raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the story. "A princess who blessed the land? Where does this tale come from?"


    "It¡¯s been passed down through generations," Jet replied, his tone turning nostalgic. "My grandfather told it to me, however, many years ago the Muman family had discovered this fact through a strange item they have now labeled the Flag Bearer''s Scroll. This Item has since become a family heirloom to the Murmans, but the story that came with it is forever engraved into the history of Reinhart. Supposedly, the princess was captivated by the beauty of the village, so much so that she spent a whole day here, dancing among the flowers. Ever since then, Reinhart has honored her with this festival, and the flowers have been a symbol of our prosperity."


    Abel nodded, filing away the information. "I look forward to it, then. It seems like an important tradition. What else can you tell me about the Murman Family?"


    Jet smiled, pleased by Abel¡¯s interest. "It is. The people will be glad to see you participate and in regards to that family... I''ll bring you some information that we have on them later, they do have a deep history here so you must tread carefully as not even the Cinco Family would dare to start anything with them."


    Abel smiled and turned, gesturing to the staircase. "I¡¯ll check the rest of the villa while I wait for more information and the staff. Thank you, Jet."


    "Of course," Jet said, giving a small bow. "I¡¯ll be by the front gate, welcoming the staff when they arrive. Let me know if there¡¯s anything you need."


    With that, Jet left, and Abel made his way upstairs to the second floor.

 Chapter 109: The Serpents Path

    Chapter 109: The Serpent''s Path


    Isabella moved with a quiet elegance through her large but austere room, her movements precise and unnaturally smooth, as if she herself were a serpent gliding through water. Each flip, each twist of her body was almost mechanical in its control, yet cold and calculated like a coiled snake assessing its prey. As she shifted from pose to pose, the faint glow on her cheek¡ªan imprint of delicate, scale-like shapes¡ªintensified, casting a pale light that seemed to sharpen the air around her. Each motion added to her awareness of her own power, and each flicker of that glow reminded her of her unique strength as an apostle. She felt a slight thrill as her crystalline scales briefly caught the dim light, knowing she was so much more than she had once been. The scales were a clear mark of her transformation, yet also her pride.


    When her routine ended, she stilled, taking a deep breath and letting her crystalline gaze settle on her reflection. Her transformed serpentine eyes, shifting with subtle rainbow hues, revealed a cold satisfaction, a faint smile revealing her sharpened, snake-like teeth. She felt beyond the realm of the townspeople who had given her cautious glances and nervous stares as she walked through the town on her first day.


    Isabella was, unmistakably, an apostle¡ªa warrior who had not only trained but endured things that most could never imagine. Yet, despite her accomplishments and lineage, she had been stationed here, in a quiet village far from her family and the larger schemes of the world. A pang of disappointment lingered; she had hoped for a post nearer to those she loved, where her family might witness her accomplishments firsthand. But duty called her to this place, to protect it from the mysterious forces emanating from the strange sinkhole at its edge.


    It was a complicated role for her, this guardian position in a town unversed in magic. The townsfolk only saw a reserved young woman, aloof and withdrawn, yet her purpose here was far beyond anything they could imagine. She knew they would never understand what it meant to be an apostle, to bridge the realm of magic with the mundane. Despite the quiet strength she felt, a feeling of responsibility outweighed her pride, reminding her that she was here for a greater cause.


    Isabella¡¯s family was no ordinary one in the Bask region. Their history with the Tower ran deep, their knowledge of ascension rites and apostolic rituals woven into their legacy. She was the latest in a line of her family members who had risen through the Tower¡¯s ranks, thanks in part to an ancient family ritual.


    In this rite, a particular serpent was needed for the aspirant to gain the strength of an apostle¡ªa rare creature that only appeared once every few years. Isabella had been one of the fortunate ones, blessed to be chosen by her family¡¯s tradition, inheriting a small gray snake, a strange intelligent creature her grandmother had gifted her. Her family had pampered her since then, anticipating her potential, yet her grandmother knew that Isabella¡¯s will would shape her as an apostle even more than her family¡¯s blessings.


    As she glanced around the modest home that the townsfolk seemed afraid of approaching due to the huge hole in the ground near it, Isabella felt a subtle mix of detachment and pride. This place, with its humble surroundings, seemed worlds away from the structured halls of the Tower. Still, she resolved to make it her own. It didn¡¯t matter that this was a remote posting. She was an apostle, and every assignment was a calling.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Leaving her room, Isabella made her way through the modest wooden house provided to her by the town¡¯s mayor. It was clean, comfortable, yet unassuming¡ªcertainly not what one might expect for an apostle. However, the mayor, though polite and matronly in her manner, had expressed a distinct wariness, her face lined with worry rather than warmth. The mayor had welcomed her with a sense of obligation, her words layered with the unspoken fear that something was terribly wrong in their quiet, close-knit town.


    When Isabella walked through the small community, she caught sight of people murmuring to one another as she passed, some offering faint smiles of curiosity while others, especially the older townsfolk, looked at her with veiled suspicion. Here, matriarchs ruled families with a reverence that ran deep, a matriarchal hierarchy woven into the town¡¯s culture. Yet, Isabella¡¯s presence was both a disruption and a mystery, and it didn¡¯t take much to see that, despite her title, she was an outsider here.


    Isabella left her wooden abode and moved toward the sinkhole, feeling both intrigued and powerful.  The house she had received was the closest to the sinkhole, which allowed her easy access to it. She moved with a calm grace, her footsteps steady as her eyes took in every detail around her, her heightened senses alert to any movement. The large, yawning mouth of the sinkhole lay before her, its dark entrance seeming to pull in the light around it, casting an ominous shadow that beckoned her forward. Her sharp senses could already detect faint traces of warm-blooded creatures moving below. But it was the unknown that stirred her curiosity most. She had heard whispers of strange creatures, strange sounds, and oddities that had emerged from within, but no one had dared to venture too close¡ªno one except her.


    As Isabella stepped into the shadowed depths, her vision sharpened to reveal every detail in the thickening darkness. The earthy aroma of damp soil and moss filled her lungs as she moved deeper, feeling the thrill of venturing into the unknown. The hole curved downward, the air growing denser and warmer, carrying faint, wild scents that hinted at life hidden below.


    Finally, the descent opened into an underground forest, unlike anything she had ever seen. Towering green trees stretched toward the cavern ceiling, their trunks wrapped in vines that glowed with a soft, bioluminescent shimmer, casting spectral hues of blue and green across the clearing. Isabella¡¯s gaze moved from the trees to the undergrowth, which was coated with moss that glistened under the strange light. This hidden forest thrummed with an eerie life, vibrant yet hauntingly still, as if it held its breath at her arrival. The silence was dense, pressing down on her senses, amplifying the faint, warm pulse of energy that drifted in the air.


    She paused, inhaling the mingled scents of strange wildflowers and earthy decay, scents that suggested both beauty and danger. Her crystalline vision allowed her to see the smallest details¡ªthe veins on the glowing leaves, the slight movements of distant plants as if something unseen moved among them. Her heartbeat quickened, the thrill of discovery awakening something primal within her.


    And then, like a faint wisp carried on the humid air, she caught the scent of human presence¡ªdistant, faded, and unfamiliar. It was the trace of someone who had been here, likely a while ago, yet close enough to suggest they had explored this space too. Her instincts intensified as her eyes narrowed, a small, sly smile curling at the edges of her mouth. Isabella felt a thrill beyond that of any hunt; here, in this untouched place, she was the apex predator, and whoever had dared enter this underground world before her had left just enough to keep her intrigued. Stepping forward with measured confidence, she let her senses open to the forest, every step resonating with the quiet pulse of the hidden world around her.

 Chapter 110: A Quiet Town, Loud Secrets

    Chapter 110: A Quiet Town, Loud Secrets


    Abel descended the staircase from his room, feeling a quiet satisfaction with how smoothly things were running. It had only been a day since the villa staff started, and already, the household was well-coordinated and lively. Two maids were tending to the villa¡¯s many flowers, moving quietly as they watered and pruned. Their shifts were brief, only three hours each morning, but they kept the gardens flourishing, enhancing the calming atmosphere Abel had come to appreciate.


    As he reached the ground floor, Abel was met by his housekeeper, a dignified older man who greeted him with a slight bow. ¡°Good morning, sir. Breakfast is prepared¡ªa local favorite from Reinhart,¡± he announced, guiding Abel to the dining area.


    The head chef stood by the table, a respectful yet confident smile on his face as he explained the dish: a savory stew with a mix of regional herbs, served alongside freshly baked bread and a selection of preserves. ¡°I hope it meets your expectations, sir,¡± the chef said before excusing himself, leaving Abel to his meal.


    The flavors were rich and satisfying, a grounding start to the day. Between bites, Abel turned to the housekeeper. ¡°Has anyone delivered messages this morning?¡±


    ¡°No, sir, none yet,¡± the housekeeper replied. ¡°Though, I imagine most people are giving you time to settle in.¡±


    Abel nodded thoughtfully, understanding what this meant. Despite the initial wave of interest from the town¡¯s nobles, their curiosity had seemed to wane. Likely, they¡¯d deemed him a curiosity but nothing too consequential¡ªa foreigner, perhaps in possession of a few magical trinkets, but hardly a force to be reckoned with. He preferred it that way; as long as they overlooked him, he could move about unnoticed.


    The housekeeper interrupted his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ve also placed the orders for your basement equipment. They should arrive within the next few days.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Abel replied, a slight smile breaking his usual calm. The basement was his next project, an ideal space for his private studies and experiments. He finished his breakfast, thanked the housekeeper, and stepped outside.


    His personal guard, a quiet but steadfast man stationed by the entrance, nodded in acknowledgment as Abel approached the carriage. Inside, he found Jet waiting with an expectant smile.


    ¡°I thought I¡¯d tag along,¡± Jet greeted him with a nod. ¡°Since you¡¯ll be going to the law enforcement office, might as well make sure you know the ins and outs.¡±


    They set off, the carriage rumbling along the cobbled streets of Reinhart. As they traveled, Abel gazed out at the passing buildings, people bustling through their morning routines. Jet leaned forward, his tone growing serious. ¡°So, we¡¯ve had a bit of trouble lately. Some say it¡¯s just bad luck; others think it¡¯s something worse. You might have heard whispers of people disappearing.¡±


    Abel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really? What¡¯s the speculation?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Jet gave a slight shrug, glancing around before lowering his voice. ¡°I¡¯m not sure anyone knows yet. Burt¡¯s been stretched thin dealing with it all, and with your arrival, he has even more pressure. I wouldn¡¯t say he¡¯s thrilled about it, but the mayor can be... persuasive.¡± He chuckled, though there was a note of sincerity in his gaze.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Abel replied, his mind already turning. He could tell Jet¡¯s insight into the town ran deep, and he appreciated that Jet was willing to share what he knew. Abel felt the weight of his own plans simmering below the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves. But for now, he would play along, gather information, and let the town''s routine reveal its secrets.


    Upon arriving at the law enforcement office, Abel was led through the familiar hallways to Burt¡¯s office. Burt sat behind his desk, his usual intense gaze softened just slightly by Abel¡¯s presence. He gestured for Abel to sit down, his tone brisk yet polite.


    ¡°So, how¡¯s the new villa treating you?¡± Burt asked, clearly more focused on other matters.


    ¡°It¡¯s... better than I expected,¡± Abel replied with a slight nod.


    ¡°Good,¡± Burt said, leaning back. ¡°Now, listen closely. I¡¯m letting you in on this because the mayor insists, but don¡¯t get in my way.¡± He met Abel¡¯s gaze firmly. ¡°We¡¯re dealing with a man we¡¯ve been watching for weeks now¡ªa beggar, supposedly, but he¡¯s got his hands in some very suspicious dealings. There¡¯s a house just outside of town that we believe is connected to him, and it¡¯s likely used for... less than legal activities.¡±


    Burt¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly as he continued. ¡°I don¡¯t need you complicating things. Just follow along, and if things get tense, leave the handling to us.¡±


    Abel nodded, fighting back a faint smirk. He could sense Burt¡¯s tension, the subtle notes of frustration laced with the confidence of someone who believed he knew the true scope of their mission. Still, Abel could also tell that Burt was no stranger to the mystical world; the faint pulse of magic from Burt hinted at an artifact, one that perhaps explained his bold approach to law enforcement in Reinhart.


    ¡°Understood,¡± Abel replied evenly. ¡°I¡¯m here to help, not interfere.¡±


    Satisfied, Burt nodded and handed him a folded parchment. ¡°Good. The full details of the mission will be sent to you later. We move in a week. This individual¡¯s visit to his house seems sporadic and we want to time it properly..¡±


    With that, the meeting was over, and Abel made his way back to the carriage. As they left the law enforcement office, he requested the driver to take him to the bar he had visited before near, feeling the allure of the bustling space once again. Once there, Abel took a seat in the same corner, greeting the bartender with a nod.


    The bartender leaned forward with a friendly smile. ¡°Back so soon, eh? Must be getting used to the town.¡±


    ¡°Could say that,¡± Abel replied, his tone light but his senses attuned to the bar¡¯s patrons. He chatted with the bartender, but his attention was on the conversations around him, his exceptional hearing picking up snippets here and there.


    It wasn¡¯t long before a conversation caught his attention. Across the room, a woman leaned close to a man, her voice low but clear. ¡°I have the zealot¡¯s blue eyes. Julius. Meet me to the south after the flower field in three hours.¡± She gave the man a sly smile as only her mouth was revealed under her low-hanging hood, before standing, brushing her cloak behind her as she exited the bar full of mystery.


    Abel¡¯s eyes narrowed as he observed the man left behind. He was wearing a cloak similar to the woman, however, his handsome face was exposed, revealing bright green eyes and vibrant blonde hair. The man glanced around before continuing to sip his drink, a look of quiet anticipation in his eyes. Abel¡¯s curiosity was piqued, a flicker of interest sparking within him.

 Chapter 111: A Dangerous Transaction

    Chapter 111: A Dangerous Transaction


    Abel made his way down Oak Street, the narrowing path bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestones, creating an air of quiet anticipation. He was aware of what a zealot''s blue eye was, a Blue Zealot was a strange bipedal creature that roamed in the dark in a particular part of Bask near Reinhart. Although elusive and evasive, their strange scorpion-like tail can leave a person paralyzed fo hours. Some say that the eyes of the creature can be used to create magical potions, or as important ingredients in rituals.


    Walking down the street Abel slowed his steps as the tailor¡¯s shop stood modestly, its sign creaking softly in the breeze. Pushing the door open, Abel was met with the comforting scent of wool and cotton. The interior was tidy, with fabrics neatly folded and garments hung on polished wooden racks.


    An elderly woman behind the counter greeted him warmly, her eyes bright with curiosity. ¡°Ah, a new face!¡± she exclaimed, her voice kind. ¡°What can I help you with, young man?¡±


    Abel offered a polite smile, feigning casual interest as he browsed the selection. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a mask... something warm for winter,¡± he said lightly. ¡°I¡¯m new here, and I don¡¯t have the right clothes for the season yet.¡±


    Her eyes twinkled knowingly. ¡°Practical choice. Let me show you a few.¡± She gestured to a nearby rack, her hands deftly selecting various masks. ¡°Any particular color in mind?¡±


    ¡°Dark would be best,¡± Abel replied, keeping his tone relaxed.


    ¡°Ah, say no more!¡± the tailor chirped, bustling toward a shelf behind the counter. She returned with an assortment of masks, each with distinct patterns¡ªdelicate vines, geometric designs, and others adorned with floral motifs.


    Abel¡¯s eyes settled on a dark, unadorned mask with a rugged design. The mask covered his mouth and nose, as it reached back and wrapped around his ears, perfect for wearing under a hood. ¡°This one,¡± he said, his voice steady. ¡°And a dark blue robe.¡±


    She smiled, pulling out a finely crafted robe with subtle embroidery near the hem. ¡°This should suit you perfectly,¡± she said, folding it neatly.


    ¡°Perfect, thank you,¡± Abel replied, handing over the payment in coins he had received before leaving the tower. After exchanging pleasantries, he left the shop, thinking of how to approach this upcoming investigation.


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    Meanwhile, Outside of Town...


    Lena stepped through the rolling fields just beyond Reinhart, her heart racing with anticipation. The flower fields stretched out like a colorful carpet beneath the evening sky, the scent of blossoms thick in the air. She wasn¡¯t a native of the town but had heard whispers about its burgeoning market for magical artifacts and the potential that the town possessed in mirroring those in the Central Region. A town that had been affected by magic so much that it becomes a norm, and rather than collapsing to these magical strangenesses, it adapts and grows.


    After months of scrounging and trading, she¡¯d finally amassed enough savings to make a proper exchange. Tonight, she would trade a rare zealot''s blue eye for a magical artifact¡ªa transaction that could open doors to unimaginable power for her and a come-up in her life.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    As she moved out of the field and into the dense forest, Lena¡¯s nerves spiked. The path was dark, lined with ancient trees that creaked under the weight of thick, trailing moss. She gripped her leather bag tightly, reassured by the small stick inside. Stopping at a clearing, she crouched and placed the stick upright on the ground nearby, she murmured in a pattern and proceeded to walk a few steps away from the stick, facing the center of the clearing. She glanced at the stick with a small sense of security knowing it could protect her if things went awry. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited.


    The silence didn¡¯t last long. Three robed figures emerged from the shadows, their movements slow and calculated. One of the men¡ªThe only one without a mask stepped forward with a malicious smirk.


    "Julius?" she called, her voice steady but laced with caution. "This was supposed to be between you and me. Why bring¡­ guests?¡±


    The masked man chuckled darkly. ¡°You¡¯re quite the optimist, aren¡¯t you?¡± He sneered. ¡°The world isn¡¯t fair. You really thought you¡¯d walk away from this with an artifact? People like you aren¡¯t worthy of magic.¡±


    Lena¡¯s eyes narrowed as two of the masked men stepped forward, each brandishing thick wooden clubs. The leader took out a small red flag, planting it firmly into the ground. A pulse of red energy surged outward, casting an ominous hue over the clearing. The smell of Iron filled the air as Lena took a step back and raised her arm to cover her nose, feeling her nostrils sting. Her eyes watered as she looked towards the red flag with amazement and frustration. A magical artifact, something she longed so much for was right in front of her, but in the hand of an enemy.


    ¡°This flag keeps things¡­ private,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°We don¡¯t want any interruptions, and no one will hear you scream.¡±


    Panic rose within Lena, but she masked it with anger. ¡°You think you can cheat me and get away with it?¡±


    ¡°Think? I know,¡± he taunted, his voice dripping with cruelty. ¡°Magical artifacts are not for the weak, and you¡¯re far too naive. Think about it, these things are capable of some incredible feats, and today Ill let you die witnessing some of those miracles.¡±


    The two thugs raised their clubs, stepping closer, their faces twisted in amusement.


    Lena took a sharp breath, she bit down on her thumb, drawing blood, then in a fluid motion took a side step and crouched whilst simultaneously pressing her bloodied thumb onto the withered stick she had placed on the ground earlier. The stick twitched, glowing faintly, and to the men¡¯s surprise, the stick began to grow, as if a timelapse of its life cycle had begun.


    As the faint greenish-brown glow brightened, the stick transformed, twisting upward into a slender, humanoid form. A woody, earthy aroma filled the air as the stick solidified into a narrow warrior, its body woven from rough, bark-like textures. The figure stood protectively in front of Lena, its wooden limbs creaking as it took a defensive stance.


    The stick was the only connection to the magical world she possessed apart from the strange eye she intended on trading. As Julius had stated, this was indeed a single-use item. These types of items were usually old broken magical artifacts on their last legs, or magical trinkets meant to be used as a trump card.


    The leader¡¯s grin faded, replaced with a hint of wariness and curiosity. ¡°Well, look at that,¡± he sneered. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you had it in you, is that a single use?.¡±


    Lena¡¯s confidence returned, a cold smile spreading across her face. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here unprepared. If you think you can scare me, think again.¡± Her voice was steely, defiant.


    The leader glanced at his companions. ¡°Enough games. Let¡¯s end this.¡±


    The two men lunged forward, their clubs raised high. The wooden warrior moved to intercept, its movements swift and fluid. It parried the first club with a loud crack, the impact sending splinters flying. Lena held her ground, watching as her protector faced off against the thugs.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± she hissed, ¡°I¡¯m not leaving empty-handed.¡±

 Chapter 112: The Red Flag

    Chapter 112: The Red Flag


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    Lena¡¯s pulse thundered in her ears as the three men closed in, their sinister grins carving shadows into their faces under the eerie red light. The oppressive atmosphere thickened with each passing second, but she refused to falter. Her wooden guardian creaked beside her, its limbs shifting into a battle stance. The faint scent of fresh-cut wood filled the air, grounding her amidst the chaos. She clenched her jaw, knowing she had gambled everything for this single-use magical item, a desperate trade-off.


    The scarred thug struck first, his eyes gleaming with sadistic glee as he swung his club. The wooden guardian met the strike head-on, the impact reverberating with a deep thud. The thug grunted, his stance faltering, but before he could react further, the guardian¡¯s arm morphed into a jagged stake. In one swift, mechanical movement, it slashed across his chest, tearing through flesh. Blood sprayed out in an arc, staining the guardian¡¯s wooden form. The thug stumbled back, gasping, his fingers trembling as they pressed against the gushing wound.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± the second thug roared, charging with wild fury. His club whooshed through the air, aiming to crush the wooden warrior. The guardian pivoted sharply, parrying with its remaining arm, but cracks spread across its limbs. Lena winced, knowing her guardian wouldn¡¯t last much longer under this onslaught.


    Behind her, Julius advanced, his twisted grin deepening as he drew his short sword. His voice cut through the din like a blade. ¡°You really thought that would be enough?¡± His eyes gleamed, reflecting the red glow that emanated from the ethereal walls surrounding them. The air seemed to pulse with his confidence, an oppressive aura that made Lena¡¯s skin crawl.


    Breathing heavily, she pulled two knives from her bag, the cool metal biting into her palms. With a swift flick of her wrists, she hurled them at Julius. He deflected both with effortless precision, the blades clanging off his short sword. His smirk widened.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± he sneered, taking another step forward. ¡°But you¡¯ll need more than that.¡±


    Lena retreated instinctively, her back pressing against the eerie, glowing walls of the domain. Her heart raced as she scanned for an opening, but there was none. The red light from the flag bathed everything in a surreal glow, making her feel trapped in a nightmare.


    ¡°Julius, stop this madness!¡± she shouted, her voice trembling with both fear and defiance. ¡°You¡¯re only digging your own grave!¡±


    Julius laughed, the sound low and menacing. ¡°You think you can talk your way out of this? You¡¯re nothing but a naive fool, playing with powers you don¡¯t understand.¡± His skin began to darken, veins pulsating with a crimson hue, his muscles swelling unnaturally. ¡°And now, you¡¯re in my domain. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.¡±


    Lena¡¯s grip tightened around the remaining knife in her hand. She knew giving in to fear would mean death. With a deep breath, she steadied herself, locking eyes with Julius.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Meanwhile, the wooden guardian struggled against the remaining thug. Its once-imposing frame was now riddled with cracks, splinters flying with each blow. One of its arms hung limp, barely attached after the latest brutal swing. Still, it retaliated, its sharp wooden limb piercing the thug¡¯s shoulder, eliciting a pained grunt. Yet, it was clear¡ªthe guardian was faltering.


    Lena clenched her fists, her heart pounding. ¡°Stop this madness, Julius! You¡¯re going too far!¡± she shouted, desperation lacing her voice.


    Julius¡¯s laughter echoed through the clearing, cold and detached. His gaze flicked to the blood-red flag fluttering ominously. ¡°A mistake? No, Lena. Within my flag¡¯s domain, I am a god!¡± His skin continued to darken to a deep crimson, veins pulsing with unnatural vigor. His eyebrows thickened into a grotesque unibrow, and his once-piercing green eyes were now an unsettling black void. The sinister red aura surrounding him pulsed with raw energy, making the air thick and oppressive.


    Julius stepped forward, his hulking figure exuding raw power. He raised his arm, and with a final, devastating punch, shattered the wooden guardian. It exploded into a rain of splinters, scattering across the ground like broken shards of hope.


    Lena stumbled back, her breath hitching. Her last line of defense lay in ruins, and Julius stood before her, grinning wickedly. His transformation wasn¡¯t just physical¡ªit was monstrous. She stared at the splintered remains of her protector, her mind racing for an escape. But deep down, she knew there was nowhere to run.


    ¡°You¡¯re pathetic,¡± he taunted, stepping closer to her. "This town will soon be a place of chaos. No one will be safe. And when the Flower Princess returns, Reinhart will be hers again.¡±


    Lena, her face etched in disbelief, glared at him. ¡°The Flower Princess is a myth. You''re insane if you think otherwise.¡±


    Julius chuckled, his gaze chilling. ¡°You¡¯re the ignorant one. Plans are already in motion. You¡¯ll understand soon enough¡ªthe Flower Princess¡¯s power is beyond what you can imagine.¡±


    Lena¡¯s heartbeat drummed in her ears as the weight of Julius¡¯s madness fully sank in. She clenched her teeth, adrenaline surging through her veins. This is my last chance. She bolted toward the glowing center of the flag, her eyes locked on its pulsating red light. Desperation sharpened her focus as she hurled another knife, aiming to sever its magic at the source.


    Clang!


    The knife ricocheted off Julius¡¯s forearm. His crimson skin gleamed in the eerie light, the blade leaving nothing but a shallow scrape. "Nowhere to run," he sneered, his voice thick with malice. In two strides, he closed the distance, his muscular form radiating raw power.


    Before Lena could react, a brutal swing connected with her side, sending her sprawling to the ground. Pain exploded across her ribs, her vision spinning as her cheek pressed into the dirt. She gasped for air, her limbs heavy, as though the domain itself was suffocating her. Darkness clawed at the edges of her sight, but she forced herself to push up on shaky arms.


    Julius loomed over her, his face twisted into a cruel grin. Slowly, he raised his foot, aiming to crush her beneath his heel. Lena braced herself, her fingers trembling as she tried to crawl away, knowing she wouldn¡¯t make it.


    Then, from the edge of the clearing, a shadow emerged¡ªa hooded figure stepping into the red-hued light. Their presence was commanding, their face hidden beneath a dark mask.


    Julius¡¯s foot hovered mid-air, his grin faltering. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by suspicion. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled, eyes narrowing at the intruder.


    ¡°What¡­? How did you get in here?¡± he hissed, his voice laced with confusion. The domain wasn¡¯t supposed to be discoverable, let alone penetrable. Realization dawned on his face, and he sneered. ¡°So, you¡¯ve got a magical artifact, then. Bad luck¡ªyou¡¯re about to join her in the dirt.¡±

 Chapter 113: The Price For Power

    Chapter 113: The Price For Power


    The air was thick with a metallic tang that prickled Abel¡¯s senses as he stepped forward, assessing the strange red flag in front of him. It pulsated, emitting an unsettling crimson glow that flickered like a heartbeat. The smell of iron was unmistakable, as though blood itself powered the artifact¡¯s chilling aura. He hadn¡¯t encountered a magical artifact quite like this one, and he found himself both fascinated and wary. The flag had somehow created a crimson world within its domain, masking the brutal acts taking place inside from anyone outside its boundaries.


    The outside made this area seem inconspicuous as nobody would feel anything strange taking place in this clearing. Thanks to Abel¡¯s strength and proficiency in controlling mana, he was able to make his way into the domain. He was an Apostle after all, and there weren''t many magical artifacts in the world that could contest with apostles on a one versus one. If there were, they would no longer be considered magical artifacts and something completely different.


    Abel eyed Julius, the leader of the three thugs, who had turned to face him with a look that promised violence. The man¡¯s skin had transformed into a sickly red hue, and Abel could feel the raw, volatile energy radiating from him. But beneath that energy, something was amiss. Julius looked almost¡­ drained, his eyes sunken and pallid. There was a sickly look that Abel could discern behind the malicious face of Julius.


    "Who the hell are you?" Julius sneered, flexing his blood-slicked knuckles. "No one is supposed to know about this place."


    Abel tilted his head, amused by the man¡¯s bravado. "Just someone who doesn¡¯t appreciate your choice of decor. Blood-red isn¡¯t really my color."


    Julius growled, swinging a heavy fist at Abel, who sidestepped the punch with practiced ease. He wanted to catch Abel off guard, as he felt like punching first and talking later had always worked in the past.


    Missing the punch, Julius looked towards Abel and then glanced at the flag before focusing on Abel again. He took a soft gulp, hoping not to show his opponent any of his thoughts, however, Abel smiled, as if reading him like a book.


    Despite the man¡¯s supernatural strength, his movements were sloppy, almost desperate. Abel¡¯s eyes narrowed as he noted the splotchy, uneven tone spreading over the man¡¯s arms and face. Whatever this flag did, it was clear the man wasn¡¯t in control of it¡ªor perhaps it was in control of him.


    Julius went in for another swing, but Abel was faster, and with a sidestep, he delivered a precise hook to the man¡¯s stomach. The impact brought Julius to his knees, a guttural groan of pain escaping him. His hands clutched his torso as he gasped, his entire form trembling from the force of Abel¡¯s blow.


    ¡°F-freak¡­¡± Julius barely managed to mouth the word, his voice strained and trembling. His body was trembling from both pain and disbelief. The blow Abel had landed felt like it shattered more than just his ribs¡ªit shattered his confidence. For a fleeting moment, he tasted the bitter edge of fear. He had battled countless foes wielding strange and powerful magical artifacts, but this was different. Never had he faced someone whose raw strength overwhelmed the Red Flag¡¯s enhancement. He knew the flag''s power was waning, and his time was running out.


    Abel wasted no time. With an iron grip, he yanked Julius up by the hair, forcing their gazes to meet. His eyes glinted coldly in the dim light. ¡°That flag¡­ where did you get it?¡± His voice was calm but carried an undeniable threat.


    Julius sneered, but it was hollow, desperation flickering behind his eyes. ¡°You think I¡¯d just tell you?¡± he spat, though his bravado cracked at the edges.


    Before Julius could act, he swung both arms upward in a desperate attempt to crush Abel¡¯s head between his hands. The air vibrated with the force of his swing, but Abel was already moving. With a swift backstep, the crushing blow missed, the loud smack echoing uselessly into the open air.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    In one fluid motion, Abel surged forward. Julius barely had time to react before Abel drove his boot into his chest, the impact sending him sprawling back onto the ground. The breath was knocked from Julius¡¯s lungs, and he lay gasping, his red-tinged skin beginning to pale as the flag''s influence faded further.


    With a flick of his wrist, Abel pulled out the hypnotic watch he¡¯d obtained earlier from the brothers, letting it swing before Julius¡¯s eyes. The watch emitted a soft, pink glow, and Abel concentrated, willing it to take hold. The energy wrapped around Julius'' eyes, his face slackening slightly as his will weakened.


    "Tell me," Abel demanded, his voice cold.


    But before Julius could answer, his eyes went stark white, and a horrible rattling sound emerged from his throat. Abel¡¯s gaze shifted, noticing thin lines of blood beginning to pour from the man¡¯s earlier wounds as well as his eyes, mouth, and ears. To Abel¡¯s fascination and mild disgust, the blood wasn¡¯t pooling on the ground. Instead, it seemed to twist in the air, drawn toward the flag like iron filings to a magnet. Abel released Julius, watching as the man¡¯s body shook violently, each drop of blood draining into the flag until his red-tinted skin turned an almost ghostly white. His skin and body reverted back to their regular look, except much more pale and void of energy.


    This was obviously the side effect of the red flag, or rather, the effects of overusing it. Abel could use his abilities proficiently due to his mana pool''s support, which he could pull mana from to power his moves, however, there were always trade-offs when it came to magical artifacts, and some could be deadly. The mundane were very careless with how they used these artifacts, as not only did they put themselves in danger, but also others.


    With a final groan, Julius collapsed to the ground, his eyes vacant and his body crumpling like a shriveled husk. The flag gave one last crimson glow before its eerie light flickered out. The strange red-hued world that had surrounded them slowly faded, restoring the forest clearing to its natural state under the dim twilight. The sound of wind moving through the trees and bushes reflected the normalcy returning to the world around them.


    Abel knelt beside the now-lifeless body, curiosity tugging at him. He stared at the man taking note of his pallid face, lifeless green eyes, and sandy blond hair. ¡°Quite a price to pay for power,¡± he murmured to himself.


    The blood-soaked flag lay discarded beside Julius. Abel examined it with interest, noticing intricate designs embroidered along its edges in deep crimson thread. He could tell it was no ordinary magical artifact¡ªits ability to consume the life force of its user was unusual, even among the artifacts he had seen. Folding it carefully, he slipped it into his robe, intending to study it further once he returned to his villa.


    His gaze drifted to the girl, Lena, who lay unconscious nearby. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow but steady. Abel could tell she¡¯d been on the verge of a terrible fate. But from what he¡¯d seen, she wasn¡¯t a threat to Reinhart; she was simply another soul caught up in the allure of magical artifacts.


    This brought up another issue that Abel hoped the Tower had considered: his role in Reinhart and the scope of his mission would need to evolve. The town wasn¡¯t just on the brink of change¡ªit was already shifting, and soon it could mirror the towns of the central continent, where magic wasn¡¯t just a tool for the elite but part of everyday life. Transitioning a community from ignorance to understanding magic was always fraught with difficulty: fear, resistance, and unintended consequences often followed. Abel''s mind churned with concerns¡ªwould the Tower be prepared to support this shift?


    He could already foresee the challenges. This wasn¡¯t just about managing rogue artifacts or magical anomalies; it was about guiding a society into uncharted territory, a task that weighed heavily on his mind. His headache intensified as the implications settled in. If the Murman family, the Bazaar, and rogue magical practices continued unchecked, the chaos could spiral beyond what even the Tower anticipated. Abel would have to be more than an observer.


    He turned to leave, taking a few steps back into the dense forest. But a slight movement behind him made him pause. He glanced over his shoulder at Lena, then sighed, walking back to her prone form. ¡°Consider yourself lucky, I suppose,¡± he muttered, carefully rolling her onto her side to ensure she was stable before stepping away. He checked the other goons, taking note of their appearances and checking for any valuables in them.


    Without another word, Abel melted into the shadows of the trees, his figure vanishing as quietly as he had appeared. The forest was silent save for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

 Chapter 114: Sentinel of the Southern Gate

    Chapter 114: Sentinel of the Southern Gate


    The morning air was brisk, the cold biting yet invigorating as Sena stepped out of the modest shed that served as his new home. He wore a patched-up farmer¡¯s outfit meant for the weather, the fabric snug over his broad, muscular frame. A straw hat perched on his crimson hair, shielding his glowing, crimson eyes that surveyed the area with sharp intent.


    The scenery was rugged but beautiful, a mix of thin trees, wide tree stumps, and rolling hills that spread toward the towering mountains in the distance. Sena inhaled deeply, the sight of the mountains soothing him in a way nothing else could. Their unyielding presence helped keep the battle-craving beast within him restrained. The mountains grounded him, tethering his restlessness to the earth as he fought against his constant urge for combat.


    As Sena picked up his axe and walked to the dirt road connecting his shed to the nearby village gate, the sound of creaking wood caught his attention. The tall stone gates opened slightly, allowing a small group of armed men to step outside. At the center of the group was a frail-looking man with a mullet and a pencil-thin mustache¡ªthe mayor of the valley village. His fine coat looked out of place amidst the rough terrain, and his eyes betrayed his discomfort.


    Sena¡¯s lips quirked slightly as the mayor approached, flanked by guards who looked far too uneasy for their station. ¡°Mayor,¡± Sena greeted simply, his deep voice carrying easily over the stillness of the surroundings.


    The mayor¡¯s voice was tense, his tone trying¡ªand failing¡ªto mask his unease. ¡°Sena, I see you¡¯ve been keeping busy. The trees near the Southern gate have thinned considerably. It¡¯s been... reassuring.¡± He gestured vaguely toward the forest. ¡°Since your arrival, the number of creatures testing our walls has decreased significantly.¡±


    Sena nodded, leaning casually on his axe. ¡°Guess they don¡¯t like what they see on this side of the gate.¡± His calm tone held a subtle undertone of amusement.


    The mayor¡¯s guards shuffled nervously, their gazes flitting between Sena and the forest beyond. The guards weren¡¯t new recruits, but even they couldn¡¯t suppress their unease around Sena. His towering presence and the sheer strength he exuded made them instinctively wary. To them, the man standing before them wasn¡¯t ordinary¡ªnot by a long shot.


    The mayor adjusted his coat, clearly trying to regain his composure. ¡°Well, whatever the reason, the village has noticed the improvement. Your efforts here are appreciated.¡± He looked over at the cleared area near Sena¡¯s shed. ¡°Again, you¡¯ve done impressive work removing the trees, and I trust you¡¯ll continue, and one day the southern gate will be as safe as our northern one.¡±


    Sena simply nodded again, his expression calm. ¡°As long as you bring me sharp tools, good food, and warm clothes, I¡¯ll keep at it.¡±


    The mayor glanced back at the guards carrying a crate filled with supplies. ¡°I¡¯ve brought some fruits from the valley orchards. I¡¯ll see to it that you get more tools and clothing next time.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Sena replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°This axe is dull enough to carve butter. If you want these trees gone, I¡¯ll need better.¡±


    The mayor gave a forced chuckle, clearly eager to end the conversation. ¡°Of course, of course.¡± He signaled his guards, and the group retreated toward the safety of the village gates.


    Sena watched them leave, their nervous glances back at him almost amusing. He didn¡¯t blame them for their unease. They were just doing their job, and to their credit, the mayor was doing what he could to support the village¡¯s development. Still, the man¡¯s discomfort around him was obvious, and Sena couldn¡¯t help but shake his head as the gates closed with a heavy thud behind them.


    With the mayor gone, Sena turned back toward the forest, hefting his axe once again. He walked up to a tree, feeling the rough bark beneath his hand. The axe swung high, and just as it was about to bite into the wood, a low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the forest.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Sena froze, his crimson eyes narrowing as the sound washed over him. A faint wisp of smoke escaped his nose, the beast within him stirring. His grip on the axe tightened, and a sharp grin split his face.


    ¡°Well, well,¡± he muttered, his voice a low rumble. ¡°Looks like I¡¯ve got company.¡±


    Without hesitation, Sena turned away from the tree and sprinted toward the forest, his powerful legs propelling him forward like a predator chasing its prey. The growls grew louder, the air thickening with tension as he delved deeper into the woods.


    The clearing behind him was quiet once more, save for the rustle of the wind through the thinning trees and the faint echo of Sena¡¯s footsteps fading into the shadows


    Deep in the forest, the air felt colder as the Spike Fish¡ªa grotesque amalgamation of amphibious features and cruel predation¡ªscuttled about on its frail, human-like legs. Its scaly body shimmered faintly in the dim light, reflecting a rusty, sickly hue. Lifeless, unblinking fish eyes gazed blankly while its snail-like appendages swiveled atop its head, scanning the area jitterily, their black tips twitching with a grotesque sense of awareness.


    The creature paused and regurgitated a vile mess of semi-digested flesh, the stench of rotting meat fouling the air. Among the slimy remains, there were remnants of creatures and perhaps human victims¡ªa grotesque testimony to its feeding habits. The Spike Fish¡¯s tail¡ªa metallic extension ending in a ball of cruel sharp spikes¡ªtwitched nervously as it began to re-ingest its rancid meal, an eating ritual that boggled the brightest minds.


    The temperature began to climb, disrupting the chilling tranquility of the forest. The Spike Fish raised its head, its snail-like eyes jerking frantically. It felt the oppressive warmth closing in and began to panic, shoveling the mess back into its maw in a desperate attempt to retreat into its feeding ritual.


    Suddenly, the thundering sound of footsteps echoed through the forest. Each step brought with it a palpable rise in temperature, causing leaves to curl and dry, and moisture to evaporate into faint steam. Sena burst into the clearing, his crimson hair catching the dim light like a flame, and his muscular frame exuding an aura of heat that distorted the air around him.


    His forehead bore a single horn glowing red-hot, radiating intense temperatures that seemed to pulsate in rhythm with his heartbeat. His hands and forearms glowed like tempered iron, the chains wrapped around his fists sizzling as if freshly forged. Sena¡¯s torso was bare, his farmer¡¯s clothes having burned away during his run, leaving only scraps hanging from his waist.


    Sena¡¯s crimson eyes locked onto the Spike Fish, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. Smoke puffed from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his body emanating waves of heat that caused the grass beneath him to smolder. ¡°Another one?¡± he remarked, his voice filled with a dangerous mix of amusement and anticipation. ¡°This forest is getting lively.¡±


    The Spike Fish lashed its tail forward with alarming speed, the spiked metal ball whistling through the air as it aimed directly for Sena¡¯s chest. But Sena stood his ground, unflinching. With a burst of movement, he grabbed the tail mid-swing, the spikes digging into his glowing hands. A faint hiss of burning metal rose as the heat from his grip warped the tail¡¯s surface.


    The creature struggled, thrashing wildly, but Sena¡¯s grip was unyielding. He let out a low chuckle before raising the Spike Fish high into the air with ease. ¡°You¡¯re not much of a fighter, are you?¡± he said mockingly. Then, with a grunt of effort, he slammed the creature into the ground.


    The impact sent tremors through the forest floor, and a sickening crunch echoed through the trees. Sena lifted the creature again, slamming it down once more, and again, each collision reducing the Spike Fish to a battered pulp. The ground became stained with its viscous blood and chunks of scaly flesh, the air now thick with the metallic stench of gore.


    As the Spike Fish¡¯s movements stilled, Sena released the mangled tail, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. The spiked tail had detached from the creature¡¯s body, lying in a pool of blood and viscera. He crouched down, wiping off the gore with a ragged scrap of his burned clothing, and grabbed the tail on the ground.


    The weapon-like object gleamed dully, an unusual hybrid. ¡°This... might come in handy,¡± Sena muttered, a pleased smile curling his lips as he inspected the strange artifact.


    The forest was quiet now, save for the crackling of dying embers left in Sena¡¯s wake. The mountains loomed in the distance, their silent grandeur serving as a stark contrast to the violent scene that had just unfolded. Wiping his hands on his singed pants, Sena slung the metallic ball over his shoulder with the ease of someone carrying a sack of grain.


    ¡°Not bad for a morning¡¯s work,¡± he said to himself, his voice filled with satisfaction as he turned back toward the village gate. Despite the carnage, the grin on his face showed he relished this new life. In a world where danger lurked around every corner, Sena had found his purpose¡ªand his strength¡ªamidst the chaos.

 Chapter 115: Beneath the Petals

    Chapter 115: Beneath the Petals


    The morning air was sweet, filled with the faint aroma of blooming flowers wafting through the streets of Reinhart. It was the Day of the Flower Dance, a cherished holiday steeped in the town¡¯s history. From young to old, everyone who resided in Reinhart knew of the legend of the Flower Princess, and believed they were were under her protection to this day. To them Reinhart was a blessed land bound to prosper, and to Abel they werent wrong.


    From his villa, Abel could see the citizens already bustling about. Each carried a basket overflowing with vibrant petals, joyfully sprinkling them along the cobblestone streets. Their chatter and laughter created a symphony of celebration. For the townsfolk, this was a day of unity, color, and tradition¡ªbut for Abel, the undercurrent of magic he felt turned the celebration into something far more intriguing.


    Abel descended the steps of his Starry Villa, his expression thoughtful as his housekeeper approached with a small, hand-woven basket of fresh blossoms.


    ¡°Would you like to join the tradition, sir?¡± the housekeeper asked with a warm smile, holding the basket out.


    Abel hesitated. ¡°No need,¡± he said at first, but then, reconsidering the attention his lack of participation might draw, he added, ¡°On second thought, I¡¯ll take it. Thank you.¡±


    The housekeeper nodded, pleased. ¡°Enjoy the festivities, sir.¡±


    Abel left his villa, blending into the cheerful streets of Fifth Street. Around him, colorful petals fluttered through the air, caught in a gentle breeze. People greeted one another warmly, exchanging flowers and stories. Children ran ahead of their families, laughing as they threw fistfuls of petals into the air. The lively atmosphere contrasted with the faint but noticeable pulse of mana that Abel had sensed since waking.


    His eyes narrowed. There was a peculiar energy threading its way through the streets, faint but deliberate. He allowed his senses to guide him as he walked, weaving inconspicuously through the crowd. His ability to sense mana has been a huge help when dealing with mundane activities as they lacked such skill.


    The pull grew stronger, drawing him toward the northeast. As he moved away from the main festivities, the lively sounds of the celebration began to fade, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of birds. He arrived at a flower field, its vibrant blooms stretching endlessly before him. Some people rushed here and there picking their last-minute batch of flower petals before rushing back into town to rejoin the celebration. Here, the mana seemed to dissipate, fading into the stillness of the field.


    Abel crouched, running his fingers over the petals. There was no sign of any magical source, but the sensation that something was hidden lingered. Was this field somehow tied to the town¡¯s history¡ªor the rumored Flower Princess? The mystery deepened and Abel walked around the fields for a moment before shaking his head with a sigh, for now, Abel filed the information away. He turned and began the trek back to town, his thoughts heavy with unanswered questions.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Back in the heart of the festivities, Abel encountered Jet and Elliot near the town square. Elliot, ever the charismatic mayor, was shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with the citizens. He himself held a basket filled with different petals.


    ¡°Abel!¡± Jet greeted warmly, motioning him over. ¡°Enjoying the Flower Dance?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ eventful,¡± Abel replied with a faint smile. ¡°I can see why it¡¯s so important to the town.¡±


    Abel stood near the duo as they exchanged formalities. The morning air was crisp but tense, and they watched townsfolk scattered around enjoying the Flower Dance celebration.


    Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed through the cobbled street. A tall, imposing man with striking blonde hair and piercing green eyes strode toward them, his fine coat trailing behind him like a king surveying his domain. His presence radiated entitlement, flanked by two guards with matching, sharp attire.


    ¡°Murman,¡± Elliot greeted stiffly, his voice polite but tight. "A pleasure."


    Ike barely spared Elliot a glance, his piercing gaze locking onto Abel like a hawk spotting prey. His lips twisted into a thin, calculating smile.


    ¡°You must be the... new visitor," he drawled, letting the last word hang with condescension. "Ike Murman, head of the Murman family.¡± His voice dripped with arrogance, each syllable weighed down with superiority.


    ¡°Abel,¡± came the curt reply. His tone was cold, unreadable.


    Ike¡¯s smirk widened as if unimpressed by Abel¡¯s lack of formality. Turning back to Elliot, his expression soured instantly. ¡°My son Hanz is missing,¡± he snapped, venom lacing his words. ¡°I warned you about keeping this town in order, yet here we are¡ªagain.¡±


    Elliot¡¯s jaw clenched, struggling to maintain his composure. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that, Mr. Murman. I suggest you report his disappearance to Law Enforcement, as there isn¡¯t much I can do personally.¡±


    Ike sneered, stepping dangerously close. ¡°Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t. The fact that you¡¯re still standing here playing town mayor instead of ensuring this doesn¡¯t happen speaks volumes about your... competence.¡± His voice lowered to a threatening hiss. ¡°You¡¯re fortunate today is a sacred day, or I¡¯d have more to say about your inability to keep our precious little town from falling apart.¡±


    With a dismissive wave, he turned sharply, his coat swirling dramatically behind him as his guards followed in perfect step.


    Abel watched Ike leave, keeping in mind the encounter. There was far more to the Murman family than met the eye. After exchanging brief farewells with Jet and Elliot, he quietly slipped away


    As he approached the Starry Villa, the quiet atmosphere provided a stark contrast to the lively streets he had left behind. His staff was preparing to depart for the day, eager to join the festivities.


    ¡°Enjoy the Flower Dance,¡± Abel said, nodding at them as they left.


    ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± one of the cooks replied cheerfully. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure to celebrate enough for all of us.¡±


    With the villa empty, Abel retreated to his study. He reached for his Stone Tower badge, his fingers brushing over its cool surface. Channeling a sliver of mana into it, the badge glowed faintly, its intricate dragon design seeming to come alive. Abel¡¯s mind sharpened as he began to map out his next moves.


    The Bazaar was fast approaching, and the threads of intrigue surrounding the Flower Dance and the Murman family were beginning to weave into a larger, darker tapestry. For now, he would wait and watch.

 Chapter 116: The Forgotten One

    Chapter 116: The Forgotten One


    Inside a grand hall adorned with opulent chandeliers and walls lined with tapestries depicting Reinhart¡¯s long, storied history, Ike Murman stood at the center. His presence radiated authority, a fierce and commanding figure dressed in dark, ceremonial robes embroidered with gold floral patterns. His piercing green eyes glinted with a dangerous mix of frustration and determination. In front of him, five sons knelt in a line, their postures tense, their blonde hair glimmering under the soft light. Each son bore the same sharp features, their expressions a mirror of focused obedience.


    Ike''s anger was obvious, his voice slicing through the tense silence like a blade.


    ¡°We¡¯re too close to fail now!¡± he bellowed, pacing furiously. ¡°The red flag is essential to the Flower Palace exploration. We¡¯ve spent years perfecting the ritual, preparing for this exact moment. We cannot afford to ¡®fumble the bag¡¯ as some of you seem to be doing.¡± His voice dripped with venom, and the words hit with the weight of years of careful planning teetering on the edge of collapse.


    The brothers remained still, eyes locked on the ground, but their attention was unwavering. If Abel were present, he¡¯d notice the faint flicker of mana emanating from each of them, subtle but undeniable. These were not ordinary men. Each one was attuned to a magical artifact, its power hidden beneath their calm exteriors.


    Ike stopped in front of his eldest son, Hector, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose presence alone exuded authority and discipline. Hector stood at attention when his father gestured for him to rise, his green eyes fierce with conviction.


    ¡°Hector,¡± Ike¡¯s voice lowered, but the intensity remained. ¡°The Bazaar is tomorrow. You will oversee everything. Continue spreading information about the Bazaar to those who are useful¡ªvaluable people who can aid us in our Flower Palace exploration. We need more hands, more fodder, and more secrecy. Our time is running out, and we will set everything in motion.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Father,¡± Hector responded, his voice steady and respectful. He gave a deep nod, his loyalty unquestionable. ¡°We¡¯ll ensure the right people are approached. The Flower Palace will be ours.¡±


    Ike¡¯s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, then hardened again. ¡°Good. You¡¯ve always understood the gravity of this. Unlike your brothers¡­¡± His glare shifted to the others. ¡°Find Hanz. If he¡¯s still breathing, bring him back. If he¡¯s not¡­then find the flag. It¡¯s more important than his life. Do you understand?¡±


    A chorus of ¡°Yes, Father,¡± followed, each voice solemn.


    Hector added, ¡°We¡¯ll search the outskirts, the hidden paths, and even the northern caves if necessary. We won¡¯t return empty-handed.¡±


    Ike nodded but couldn¡¯t hide the worry gnawing at him. He clenched his jaw, his mind spiraling through years of carefully laid plans. ¡°This town will belong to us,¡± he muttered, almost to himself. ¡°Once the Flower Palace is unlocked, Reinhart will bow to the Murman family.¡±


    He dismissed his sons with a wave of his hand. As they exited the hall, Ike¡¯s eyes flickered with something between pride and greed. They were powerful, but he knew that power alone wouldn¡¯t be enough. His plans were far too fragile for any more mistakes. He stood there, contemplating, as the door closed behind them.


    ¡­


    Abel stood in the heart of his Starry Villa, the quiet ambiance of the night settling around him like a blanket. After dismissing his staff for the evening, allowing them to join the Flower Dance celebrations with their families, the villa had become eerily serene. The absence of human presence heightened the distant sounds of celebration¡ªa faint hum of laughter and distant music echoing through the streets. Yet, Abel felt detached from it all. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the remnants of the ritual he''d uncovered.


    He descended into the basement, the new fortified door clicking shut behind him with a satisfying thud. Abel traced his fingers along the cold iron surface, nodding in approval. This door was only a temporary safeguard. In time, he intended to weave enchantments and reinforce it with more sophisticated security measures. For now, it was enough.


    The basement, still a work in progress, held the bare bones of what would one day be his sanctuary for research. Lab tables stood in neat rows, some already cluttered with parchment, ink bottles, and holders for whenever Abel decided to place his artifacts down here. Cabinets lined the walls, awaiting more tools, but the space felt alive with potential.


    Abel crossed the room and laid out his findings from the abduction and the recent battle¡ªthe loot he''d taken from the brothers and the man with the red flag. His eyes fell on the peculiar parchment he''d uncovered, and he unfurled it carefully, smoothing it across the table. Symbols and geometric shapes formed intricate patterns, and Abel''s eyes narrowed as he traced the outlines with his finger.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    The ritual was complex, relying on precise formations etched in blood. The process was unnervingly detailed: draw specific shapes in blood, arrange beast bones in a calculated order, light candles, and invoke the power of the Forgotten One. Abel leaned closer, his mind racing.


    "The Forgotten One." The name stuck with him. It was foreign, unfamiliar even in the vast array of knowledge he''d gained at the Tower. Who¡ªor what¡ªwas this entity? He tapped the edge of the parchment thoughtfully.


    ¡°The chant mentions guiding power with the assistance of that being from the blood into bone, then into the formation and, finally, into an item,¡± he murmured aloud. ¡°A way for mundanes to manipulate mana¡­ but at what cost?¡±


    The candles, the blood, the bones¡ªit was clear the ritual was more than a crude attempt at magic. Abel¡¯s gaze sharpened on the symbols within the circle. They weren¡¯t arbitrary. Each shape, each line, seemed to serve a purpose. He thought about his knowledge book specifically the section on enchantments.


    Enchantment formations were familiar to him: small, intricate patterns used to imbue objects with magical properties through mana manipulation or innovative combinations of magical attributes. But this ritual? It wasn¡¯t just an enchantment¡ªit was a colossal version of one, an elaborate web of power far beyond anything he''d encountered. Both held the same core of strange shapes and purposeful lines, both capable of reacting to mana.


    Abel frowned, comparing the shapes in the ritual to those from the knowledge book. There were parallels¡ªcertain sigils aligned with known enchantments¡ªbut others were entirely foreign, ancient perhaps. He scribbled notes in the margins of the parchment.


    ¡°What¡¯s the significance of these larger formations?¡± he pondered, his voice echoing softly in the empty basement. ¡°If enchantments are typically small¡­ why create something this massive?¡±


    The idea gnawed at him. Was it simply a matter of scale, or did the ritual serve a darker purpose? He remembered the chant¡¯s request for the Forgotten One to ¡°guide the power.¡± This wasn¡¯t ordinary magic. It was a dangerous convergence of forces beyond human understanding.


    Abel clenched his jaw, his fingers brushing over the bones he¡¯d retrieved from the scene. They were light yet dense, clearly from a beast that wasn''t very magical, but what unsettled him was the engravings¡ªsmall carvings etched into each bone, faint yet purposeful.


    ¡°These bones are more than just catalysts,¡± he realized. ¡°They¡¯re conduits.¡±


    The air in the basement felt heavier, the weight of his discovery pressing on him. He stared at the parchment one last time before stepping back. This was no ordinary magic. Whoever devised this ritual understood mana manipulation in ways even the Tower hadn¡¯t taught.


    Abel placed everything related to the ritual onto a dedicated table, organizing the parchment, bones, and notes into neat piles. He would study them further, but not tonight. He pulled out a parchment and began writing on it, ¡°Forgotten Enchantment Ritual¡ª a ritual with the purpose of creating a magical artifact. Possible malicious shapes and mental corruption from unknown beings. Investigate the link to Forgotten One.¡±


    Abel stood at the center of his dimly lit basement and moved to another part of the lab, the red flag laid flat across one of the lab tables. The fabric shimmered faintly under the light, its deep crimson hue almost pulsing with a life of its own. His fingers brushed over the strange, intricate patterns etched into the cloth, his eyes narrowing when he spotted a small number embroidered at the bottom¡ª"4."


    "Four? Does this mean there are others like it?" Abel wondered, his mind racing with possibilities.


    He decided to test its properties further. Channeling a small amount of mana into the flag, he felt it vibrate under his palm, the faint hum growing into a more pronounced pulse. Slowly, a sinister energy began to emanate from the flag, spreading out like invisible tendrils, trying to form a domain. Abel could feel the mana wave reaching for him, seeking a connection.


    His instincts flared, and he swiftly severed the link, cutting off his mana flow before the wave could anchor itself. The energy recoiled, shifting to a different, more insidious frequency. This time, it bypassed his mana pool entirely, attempting to establish a connection through his blood.


    Abel¡¯s eyes darkened. He sensed the shift in the wavelength, the wave now laced with something malevolent. It was as though the flag was alive, not just a magical artifact but a parasitic entity seeking control. Without hesitation, he reinforced his mental defenses, blocking the blood connection with precision. The flag trembled violently, its aura dimming as it failed to secure a source.


    "So, that¡¯s how it works," Abel muttered, his voice calm but his mind wary. "It communicates through mana first, and if that fails, it tries to invade the bloodline. Whoever designed this knew exactly how to manipulate both."


    He leaned closer, studying the flag¡¯s patterns again. The mana wave it projected wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d encountered before¡ªnot even in the Tower¡¯s extensive archives. This wasn¡¯t ordinary magic. It was something older, darker, and far more dangerous.


    The realization sparked a new line of thought: If this is the fourth flag, where are the others? And who¡¯s controlling them? He scribbled a note in his journal:


    ¡°Red Flag #4¡ªAttempts both mana and blood connections. Further study is needed. Connection method differs from known magical artifacts.¡±


    Abel placed the flag back on the table, deciding to revisit it later. As he turned away, his Tower badge vibrated softly against his chest. He retrieved it, his eyes flicking over the glowing surface. A message appeared, and one of his friends reached out.


    A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The weight of his discoveries lifted slightly. Despite the dark mysteries surrounding Reinhart, knowing he wasn¡¯t entirely alone gave him a rare sense of comfort.


    Tucking the badge away, he took one last look at the flag before heading upstairs. His mind churned with unanswered questions, but for now, the message from his friend was a welcome distraction.

 Chapter 117: The Fisherman

    Chapter 117: The Fisherman


    The air over Tail Lake was still, a faint mist drifting lazily across the water as the first light of dawn illuminated the glassy surface. In the middle of the vast expanse, a lone figure sat on a small wooden boat next to an oversized bucket, swaying gently with the rhythm of the water. Ronald, dressed in worn fishing clothes and a straw hat, leaned forward holding his fishing rod, humming softly to himself. His voice was low, carrying over the tranquil waters, blending into the quiet serenity of the lake.


    For the past few days, Ronald had embraced the simplicity of life in this quiet lakeside town. Fishing had become more than just a pastime¡ªit was his sanctuary.


    Each evening, he returned with a bounty of fresh fish, hailed by the townsfolk as a master fisherman. The town thrived on its aquatic resources, and Ronald¡¯s bold expeditions into the farthest reaches of the lake had earned him admiration. Others dared not venture so far; the tales of Tail Lake¡¯s dangers kept them close to the shore. Many had gone but never returned, as if the lake was a bottomless pit where souls went to disappear.


    He sat quietly by the water¡¯s edge, his gaze fixed on the rippling surface but his mind far away. He could feel the pull of his first rune, an elusive power just beyond reach. His mana pool thrummed steadily, resonating in harmony with his being, indicating that the process of assimilation was nearly complete. The first rune of an Apostle would materialize naturally after some time, although the duration was always random. Many Apostles and Magians have tried to explain what caused the materialization of the first rune to be so sporadic, linking it to knowledge and experience. Although many have tried to explain it, the truth is still yet to be discovered.


    After the first rune is materialized, the road towards the remaining four runes relies on a dangerous path that many have faltered.


    He thought about the possibilities¡ªhis affinity for the mysterious waters and his life experiences would shape the rune''s nature. Would it be something destructive or protective? The unknown thrilled and unsettled him, knowing this would mark his true entry into the world of Apostles granting him the official title of a Rank One Apostle.


    In addition, life expectancy would increase by at least forty years per rune. It wasn''t rare to see an apostle who was over two hundred and twenty years old and still capable of amazing feats.


    His attention was brought back to the lake as if he felt something strange below the surface, the lake¡¯s eerie legend echoed in Ronald¡¯s mind. It was said that a colossal beast once buried itself deep in the lake, its tail protruding above the surface, giving the lake its name. Though the tale was dismissed as myth, there was an undeniable tension and magic in the air.


    His peaceful musings were abruptly interrupted when the boat trembled violently. Ronald¡¯s eyes sharpened, his grip tightening on the rod as the surface of the lake rippled unnaturally, his mind moved quickly and efficiently as his body began to emit a ghastly green glow. Before he could react further, a massive crab-like claw shot from the depths, clamping around his waist with a crushing grip.


    The force yanked him overboard, plunging him into the cold, murky water, as he gripped the glasses on his face, not allowing it to fall off. If he was a mundane his body would''ve had some serious injuries as the grip was tight, but thanks to the fast reaction of Ronald and a higher sense of his surroundings due to his affinity, a layer of ghastly water surrounded his body in an instant, preparing for the ambush.


    Beneath the surface, Ronald remained eerily calm. He gazed at the monstrous creature dragging him downward: a grotesque yellow crab with hundreds of small legs, each covered in slimy, algae-coated armor. Five grotesque stalk-like eyes writhed atop its head, scanning the murky depths with unsettling precision. The creature¡¯s movements were mechanical yet strangely intelligent.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    So this is what¡¯s been lurking beneath, Ronald thought, his mind already assessing the situation, he had been making his way farther and farther into the lake until reaching a point of interest. Two spots previously seemed interesting but were false flags, however, it seemed like he had hit a jackpot, maybe a lead.


    He let the creature carry him deeper, the cold water pressing in on all sides. As the light from the surface faded, he noticed the lakebed below¡ªscattered with jagged rocks and skeletal remains of creatures and people that had met a grim fate. The crab pulled him toward a gaping cave-like hole, guarded by an army of similar crabs, their legs skittering restlessly.


    Without hesitation, the crabs pounced, their claws snapping viciously. Ronald¡¯s body twisted in a fluid, almost unnatural motion, dodging the attacks with a grace that defied the water¡¯s resistance. His control over the surrounding water became evident. Each movement he made sent ripples that shifted the crabs¡¯ trajectories, his body flowing through their onslaught like a phantom.


    A cold, ghastly aura enveloped him, and with a flick of his wrist, a spectral trident materialized in his hand. The weapon pulsed with eerie, spirit-like energy¡ªits translucent form distinct from the natural water around it. The temperature in the immediate vicinity plummeted as Ronald''s power seeped into the lake. The faint whispers of those long gone could not be heard but felt, as the crabs skittered backward slightly.


    One crab lunged forward after its initial caution, its claws snapping mere inches from Ronald¡¯s face. He countered swiftly, his trident piercing its armored shell. The creature let out a distorted screech as its legs flailed before falling limp. Crimson tendrils of blood drifted through the water, staining it with an ominous hue.


    More crabs surged forward, undeterred by their comrade¡¯s demise. Ronald spun his trident with deadly precision, the ghastly energy trailing behind it like a spectral dance. Each strike found its mark¡ªarmor cracking, limbs severing. Despite their overwhelming numbers, Ronald maintained his composure, his eyes sharp and unyielding. The crabs remained relentless though as their numbers seemed to be increasing. For each crab that he killed, more would appear from the darkness of the depths.


    Ronald propelled himself into the air with a powerful leap, water swirling in his wake. Below him, the crabs reacted instantly, their razor-sharp claws snapping, driven by an insatiable hunger. With a wicked grin, Ronald raised his trident high, its dark aura pulsating ominously.


    With a flick of his wrist, he released the trident, letting it hover momentarily before bursting into dozens of wailing specters. The ghostly forms howled, diving toward the ascending crabs. Upon contact, each spirit possessed a crab, causing a violent explosion of greenish, ghastly energy, scattering chitinous remains across the lake bed.


    The water around him grew darker, and the eerie silence of the lake deepened. He began to descend towards the ground on top of the carnage around him, but his eyes were focused on the black hole at the bottom of the lake. Through his glasses, he could tell that this was something very dangerous. Something about this cave resonated with an ancient, malevolent energy. Ronald could feel it, a pulsing rhythm beneath the water, synchronized with the very heart of the lake. He had to find out more.


    A crab missing several eyes managed to scrape his arm, tearing through his sleeve. He barely flinched, his eyes locked on the ominous cave entrance. There was something inside¡ªsomething more than these creatures. He pushed forward, cutting through the remaining crabs with methodical strikes, his trident carving a path of eerie light.


    As he neared the cave, the crabs faltered, hesitating for a moment as if afraid to follow, instead focusing on the remains of their comrades as they began to feast. Ronald hovered, breathing deeply. His senses sharpened, and he could feel the energy emanating from the entrance¡ªpulsing, ancient, and wrong.


    ¡°What are you hiding?¡± he murmured to himself, his voice muffled by the water.


    Summoning the last reserves of his ghastly energy, Ronald tightened his grip on the trident, and with a crouch, he pushed himself with immense force upwards, sending him back to the surface in no time. Getting back onto the boat, he decided to retreat for the day, planning to fully explore that strange cave at a later time.


    Before leaving, Ronald raised his hands, channeling the ghastly energy that shimmered like a cold mist over the water¡¯s surface. The lake rippled and churned, responding to his command. Slowly, a massive sphere of water emerged, suspended in mid-air, swirling with captive fish of varying sizes. With a practiced motion, he guided the watery orb toward the boat, releasing its contents into a sturdy bucket with a loud splash. Satisfied, he glared at the restless waters before turning the boat around, ready to head back to shore.

 Chapter 118: An Unexpected Trade

    Chapter 118: An Unexpected Trade


    Lena moved cautiously through the dense woods, her steps muffled by the soft earth beneath her feet. Tall, twisting trees surrounded her, their branches stretching overhead like skeletal fingers blotting out much of the moonlight. The cool night air was heavy with the scent of damp moss and wildflowers, adding an eerie beauty to the otherwise tense atmosphere. She adjusted the flower mask on her face, its intricate petals carefully crafted to blend in.


    Although her body had healed from the brutal confrontation with the man allegedly called Julius, the memory still haunted her. Waking up amidst the carnage with no clear explanation of how she survived left her with more questions than answers. She clutched her bag tighter, every coin she owned jingling softly inside. Along with her most precious item¡ªthe Zealot¡¯s Eye¡ªshe hoped to find something valuable at the Bazaar that could offer her protection or answers.


    Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice cutting through the stillness.


    ¡°Drop the bag,¡± it commanded coldly.


    Lena¡¯s heart sank. She turned to face the source of the voice¡ªa tall figure, a head taller than her, emerging from the shadows. His gray robe fluttered slightly in the breeze, and an owl mask concealed his face, giving him an ominous, otherworldly presence. His stance was rigid and confident, and his voice carried the weight of someone who had done this before.


    Cursing her luck under her breath, Lena¡¯s hand instinctively brushed over the small knives strapped to her belt. Of course, she thought bitterly. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to take advantage of the Bazaar¡¯s secrecy. She clenched her jaw, feeling a mix of fear and anger. Her wooden protector was gone, and without it, she had little defense against someone wielding a magical artifact.


    ¡°I¡¯m just a traveler,¡± she said evenly, masking the tremor in her voice. ¡°I have nothing worth stealing.¡±


    ¡°Cut the act,¡± the man growled, stepping forward. His eyes glinted behind the owl mask. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in small talk. Hand over the bag, or I¡¯ll take it off your corpse.¡±


    Her eyes narrowed as in a quick motion he pulled a leather glove from his belt and slid it onto his left hand. Instantly, his arm bulged unnaturally, veins pulsing with a sickly green aura, his nails turning red and sharp. The air around him shifted, growing tense and oppressive. There was something primal about the energy radiating from him¡ªwild, untamed, and dangerous.


    Lena swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She¡¯d seen magical artifacts before, but this glove was something else entirely. It seemed to fuse with his body, amplifying his strength and turning him into something barbaric. She felt a pang of envy mixed with dread. Why couldn¡¯t I have something like that?


    ¡°Last chance,¡± the man said, his voice low and dangerous. ¡°Drop the bag.¡±


    Lena gritted her teeth. She wasn¡¯t about to hand over everything she had worked for without a fight, but she knew her knives would be useless if he got close. She had to think fast.


    ¡­


    Abel moved silently through the forest, the dark blue robe draped over his frame blending him into the shadows of the trees. A dark mask and the hood of his robe obscured his face, concealing his identity in case he crossed paths with others on their way to the Bazaar. His sharp eyes scanned the dense foliage ahead, focusing on the path that led north toward the rumored cave with the magical quicksand. Each step was deliberate, his senses heightened as he sought the hidden entrance.


    Suddenly, a scuffle caught his attention. Voices¡ªone aggressive, the other desperate¡ªechoed through the trees. He shifted his gaze and spotted a woman cornered by a man with an unnaturally large, glowing green arm.


    The man¡¯s left arm bulged grotesquely, surrounded by a menacing aura, clearly enhanced by a magical artifact. Abel¡¯s eyes narrowed as he recognized the woman, even through her floral mask. It¡¯s her¡­ The woman from the night he obtained the red flag. What are the odds? He thought, amused by the sheer improbability of their reunion.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    As Abel approached, he observed the tension between the two. The man barked his demands, his voice rough and authoritative.


    ¡°Drop your bag, now! And maybe I¡¯ll let you leave in one piece!¡± the man growled, his glowing arm flexing with a threat.


    The woman hesitated, clutching her bag tighter. Fear flickered in her eyes, but she stood her ground, defiance in her posture, she wasn''t someone who gave up easily. Abel stepped closer, his calm voice cutting through the tension.


    ¡°Is there a problem here?¡± he asked, his tone light, yet carrying an edge that made both of them turn.


    The man glared at Abel, clearly irritated. ¡°None of your business. Unless you¡¯re here to hand over your belongings too,¡± he sneered.


    Abel chuckled softly. ¡°That¡¯s a fascinating artifact you have there,¡± he said, his eyes flicking to the man¡¯s grotesquely enlarged arm. ¡°Is it worth threatening strangers over?¡±


    The thug¡¯s sneer widened into a cruel smile. ¡°This arm could crush your skull in one swing. So unless you want to find out, I suggest you start handing over your valuables.¡±


    Lena glanced at Abel, her eyes pleading silently for help. She wasn¡¯t sure who this masked figure was, but she could sense his confidence, and in that moment, she hoped he was more than just talk.


    Abel sighed and slowly reached into his robe, pulling out the small knife. Its polished blade gleamed under the dim light filtering through the trees. ¡°Funny thing,¡± Abel mused, ¡°I¡¯ve got an artifact too. Care to test which one¡¯s stronger?¡±


    The man hesitated for a split second but quickly recovered. ¡°You¡¯re bluffing, my arm will crush you and your puny blade¡± he spat. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you both!¡± He charged forward, the ground trembling under his heavy steps.


    Lena reacted instinctively, throwing two knives toward the attacker. The man batted them away with his massive arm, his grin widening. Abel remained still, watching until the last possible moment before sidestepping the swing aimed at his head. The air whistled as the massive arm missed by inches, and Abel retaliated with a swift slash aimed at the man¡¯s abdomen.


    The man was more agile than Abel expected, turning his body in the last second as the knife¡¯s blade glanced off the hardened skin of the man¡¯s arm, sparking slightly.


    The thug laughed. ¡°This arm can block anything. Even your pathetic artifact!¡±


    Abel¡¯s eyes gleamed with interest. ¡°Is that so?¡± He stepped back, his movements smooth and calculated. The man charged again, raising his arm for another devastating blow. But this time, Abel didn¡¯t aim for the abdomen. Instead, he shifted low dodging the punch, and thrusted his blade into the man¡¯s unprotected stomach¡ªonce, twice, three times in rapid succession.


    Blood sprayed from the wounds, the man¡¯s laughter turning into a choking gasp. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with disbelief.


    ¡°Impossible¡­¡± he wheezed, collapsing onto his knees. The glowing aura around his arm flickered, fading as the glove slid off his hand. His arm shrank back to its normal size, lifeless as he crumpled to the ground in a pool of blood.


    Abel stood over him, wiping the blade clean. ¡°Artifacts are only as powerful as the person wielding them,¡± he murmured, glancing down at the fallen glove. He felt in the person''s robe and pulled out a small cloth bag full of strange magical creature teeth, some coins, and herbs, which Abel pocketed and then looked towards the glove. He crouched, examining it closely.


    Before he could pick it up, Lena¡¯s voice broke the silence.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady, though her hands trembled. ¡°I¡¯ll trade you for it.¡±


    Abel raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, intrigued.


    ¡°I have the Zealot¡¯s Eye,¡± she continued, pulling a small, glowing orb from her bag. ¡°I know it might not compare, but I¡¯m willing to work for you if that¡¯s what it takes. Bodyguard, retainer¡ªwhatever you need, for a year. Just¡­ please.¡±


    Abel studied her carefully, noting the desperation in her voice and the way she clutched the orb as if it were her lifeline. After a moment, he nodded. ¡°Alright. You have a deal.¡±


    He had the guards at the gate, but having a personal guard who was also aware of the magical world could solve some of his headaches, especially considering the fact that the town was heading towards a magical reality many weren''t prepared for.


    He handed her the glove, watching as her eyes lit up with awe. She cradled it reverently, her admiration for Abel deepening. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.


    Abel took the Zealot¡¯s Eye, turning it over in his hand. Its surface shimmered with an eerie, mesmerizing light. A fitting trade, he thought. Without another word, he turned to her signaling her to follow, and began walking toward the cave, Lena following close behind, the newfound artifact resting firmly in her grasp.

 Chapter 119: Dealings Under the Sand

    Chapter 119: Dealings Under the Sand


    The dim, sandy hall stretched wide before many silhouettes, its oppressive atmosphere thick with secrecy. Masked figures moved silently through the shifting space, their steps muffled by the sand underfoot.


    Stalls lined the perimeter, manned by shadowy vendors hawking everything from magical produce to strange relics, while others whispered covertly to those seeking forbidden knowledge. Everything within the hall¡ªfrom the walls to the towering pillars¡ªwas crafted entirely from compacted sand, as though molded by ancient hands. Even the faint designs etched into the surfaces depicted strange, twisting illustrations that seemed to shimmer under the flickering light of suspended orbs.


    Above them, sand fell in soft drizzles from the ceiling, cascading like an eternal hourglass, but no one seemed alarmed. This phenomenon was accepted by those present at the bazaar, a hidden marketplace buried beneath an inconspicuous cave. Abel and Lena had landed softly on the floor, emerging from the stream of falling sand, and now stood surveying the scene.


    ¡°This place¡­¡± Abel murmured, his gaze steady but sharp. He adjusted the plain, dark-blue robe he wore and glanced at Lena, who, despite her mask, seemed uneasy. ¡°Stick close,¡± he said.


    Lena nodded, gripping her floral mask tighter. Though she had come here prepared with the zealot¡¯s eye, the weight of uncertainty pressed on her. Every shadow seemed to conceal a threat.


    As they wove through the maze of stalls, Abel adopted the alias ¡°Blue¡± while Lena became ¡°Flower,¡± maintaining their anonymity. At one of the first ground stalls, they paused. A vendor knelt behind a simple spread of creature nails, furs, and strange bones, their raw forms gleaming under the soft glow of the overhead orbs.


    Abel examined the items, fingers brushing over a claw with faint traces of mana. ¡°Useful,¡± he muttered, though more to himself than Lena.


    ¡°You plan on hunting beasts?¡± she asked quietly.


    ¡°Eventually. No sense in buying when I can find better,¡± Abel replied, though his gaze lingered a second longer on a set of bloodied fangs.


    Lena¡¯s mind drifted. She clenched her hands, still marveling at her newly acquired artifact, the glove. It pulsed faintly, as though alive, and its promise of power made her feel both exhilarated and apprehensive. Still, she wanted this night to end, the heavy atmosphere gnawing at her nerves.


    They moved on, passing several vendors until a peculiar figure caught Abel¡¯s eye: a man wearing a rat-shaped mask, seated behind a small wooden stall. Four items were displayed¡ªa pair of scrolls, a broken blade, and a long, jagged fingernail. Abel¡¯s interest was piqued as he stepped closer.


    ¡°Looking for something specific?¡± the rat-masked vendor asked in a raspy tone.


    Abel examined the items, his voice calm but curious. ¡°Tell me about these.¡±


    The vendor¡¯s gloved hand brushed over the items as he spoke. ¡°Two scrolls¡ªmaps of the Wild South and a ritual of concealment. The blade? It could be useful if you know how to awaken it. The fingernail¡­well, let¡¯s just say it belonged to something ancient.¡±


    Abel¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°Where do you find these?¡±


    The vendor chuckled dryly. ¡°Trade secret. If I told you, I¡¯d be out of business.¡±


    Abel felt no significant power from the man, though the faint mana radiating from the items was undeniable. He knew the vendor wasn¡¯t an apostle, but he might have been someone who has had experiences with magic before maybe a facilitator¡ªsomeone who dabbled in dangerous goods.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the ritual,¡± Abel said, his voice steady.


    ¡°Something of equal value,¡± the vendor replied, his eyes glinting behind the mask.


    Abel first offered the teeth of a magical beast, but the vendor shook his head. Then Abel revealed the zealot¡¯s eye. The vendor¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°You have my interest,¡± he said, accepting the trade.


    Tucking the scroll away, Abel asked the rat-masked man selling the items,¡± If I want to trade again, where can I find you?¡±


    The mysterious man was taken aback by the question, but as if prepared for it, he reached into his own robe, pulled out a parchment paper, and handed it to Abel, saying, ¡°Just follow the procedure in that paper, and we will get in contact.


    With a nod Abel moved on, Lena following closely. She cast a glance back at the rat-masked vendor, wondering who Abel truly was and why he seemed so at ease in this ominous environment.


    Time stretched as they wandered deeper into the bazaar. The crowd had grown larger¡ªmore figures than Abel had anticipated. The town of Reinhart¡¯s connection to magic was evolving faster than he had expected, and it wasn¡¯t just apostles; commoners were becoming intertwined with mana.


    The commotion ahead drew Abel¡¯s attention like a magnet. Two men stood locked in a heated argument amidst the sea of masked figures.


    One wore a plain brown mask, his posture rigid with anger, while the other donned an intricate snake mask, his stance cool but defensive. Their voices cut through the eerie hum of the bazaar as others paused to watch.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°You sold me a fake!¡± the brown-masked man bellowed, pointing at the snake-masked vendor. ¡°That spear was supposed to exude a venomous aura capable of weakening any foe¡ªbut it does nothing!¡± His voice shook with both rage and humiliation.


    The snake-masked vendor sneered pulling out a fan magical artifact from his side. ¡°No refunds. That¡¯s the rule here.¡± His calmness only fueled the other man¡¯s fury.


    Without warning, the brown-masked man reached into his satchel and pulled out a worn, wooden cup, its surface etched with glowing shapes. He shook it slightly, and a strange liquid began to materialize, filling the cup as though drawn from another dimension.


    Abel¡¯s eyes narrowed. He had never seen anything like it. The liquid shimmered ominously, thick and iridescent, as it reached the brim. The brown-masked man lifted his mask slightly, revealing sharp cheekbones and a tense jawline, then downed the liquid in one swift motion.


    As he lowered the cup, his transformation began. His skin turned a shade of deep blue, his ears elongated into sharp points, and his eyes gleamed with an unnatural light. His nose and chin grew angular, and his nails sharpened into claw-like tips. Despite his shrinking stature¡ªnow a head shorter¡ªhis frame bulked with thick muscles. His entire aura shifted, becoming feral and menacing.


    Lena gasped. ¡°What in the world¡­¡± she whispered, her voice trembling. Abel had read about such transformations in rare texts, but seeing it firsthand was different. The man had become a creature from ancient tales, a Blue Goblin¡ªa creature believed to have gone extinct hundreds of years ago.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make you pay,¡± the transformed man snarled, his voice guttural. He lunged toward the snake-masked vendor, claws extended.


    Before he could strike, a powerful presence filled the air. A tall figure stepped forward, cloaked in a flowing gray robe and wearing a mask marked with a single number: 1. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.


    ¡°Enough,¡± he said, his tone calm but laced with authority.


    The Blue Goblin halted mid-charge, his glowing eyes narrowing. ¡°Who are you to interfere?¡±


    The crowd watched in silence as Mr. One moved closer, his movements deliberate and calculated.


    Abel felt an unusual energy radiating from him, faint traces of mana that seemed to be within the man himself. It wasn¡¯t the refined mana of an apostle, who held a mana pool within themselves, but something raw¡ªsimilar to the recruits in the tower who bypassed traditional methods of harnessing power, relying on grafted body parts, rituals, or parasitic enhancements.


    ¡°I am Mr. One,¡± he stated, his voice cold. ¡°And the bazaar is no place for petty scuffles. Explain your grievance, or both of you will face judgment.¡±


    The goblin-like man growled, but he lowered his claws. ¡°I was scammed,¡± he said, his voice seething. ¡°This vendor sold me a useless artifact. I demand justice.¡±


    Mr. One turned his gaze toward the snake-masked vendor, who stepped back defensively. ¡°No refunds,¡± the vendor repeated, though his voice wavered.


    ¡°Rules must be followed,¡± Mr. One said, pulling a small green flag from his robe. With a flick of his wrist, it expanded into a larger flag, its edges shimmering with power.


    He slammed it into the ground, and a pulse of green energy rippled outward. The atmosphere vibrated with a green energy that seemed to emit from the flag.


    The ground beneath them shifted. A heavy gravitational force pressed down as the ground now glowed faintly with a green hue pulled them with an invisible force, making it difficult for most to stand.


    The snake-masked vendor collapsed to his knees, gasping for air as he tried to resist. Most people around them did as well, except for Abel and the transformed Blue Goblin who stood there watching the scene. This skill was similar to his gravitational skill, however, it used completely different rules, as the flag seemed to be altering the ground beneath them to pull like a vacuum.


    Abel and Lena felt something within themselves when the flag was pulled out. They recognized the flag¡ªits eerie resemblance to the one from the night when they faced Julius. The design was similar, and the only difference was the color and the effect it had upon use.


    Lena clenched her fists, memories of the horrifying event flooding back. Abel, however, remained composed, though his mind raced. Another flag? How many of these exist? His mind began to work, as he tried to put these clues together.


    Mr. One stepped forward, his calm demeanor unwavering. He grasped the vendor¡¯s arm and, with a swift motion, snapped one of his fingers backward. The sickening crack echoed through the hall.


    The vendor screamed in agony, his mask tilting as his head snapped back in pain. Mr. One didn¡¯t stop. He methodically broke each finger, his actions devoid of emotion. The crowd watched in tense silence, some horrified, others fascinated by the brutal display.


    ¡°This is your warning,¡± Mr. One said, his voice steady. ¡°Sell genuine artifacts, or face worse.¡±


    The vendor whimpered, clutching his shattered hand. Without another word, Mr. One turned to the Blue Goblin. He nudged the fallen fan artifact toward him. ¡°Consider this compensation.¡±


    The goblin-man hesitated, then picked up the fan, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and wariness.


    Mr. One¡¯s gaze then locked onto Abel, remembering how he held his ground and remained standing even with the pressure from his green flag. ¡°You, and you,¡± he said, his voice cool but firm as he pointed towards the goblin man who was now reverting to his normal look. ¡°You both seem capable. I have a proposition.¡±


    Abel nodded, his expression unreadable. He could feel Lena¡¯s tension beside him. ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± Mr. One said, retrieving his flag. He didn¡¯t wait for a response, disappearing deeper into the bazaar.


    Abel turned to Lena. ¡°Stay close,¡± he said.


    Lena hesitated but nodded, clutching her glove tightly. She didn¡¯t know what Abel was getting them into, but she wasn¡¯t about to be left behind.


    Together, they followed Mr. One into the shadows, the weight of the bazaar¡¯s dark secrets pressing down on them.


    His voice boomed with authority as they walked to a more remote corner. ¡°An opportunity arises for those willing to risk it. A ruin lies in the western cliffs¡ªancient, dangerous, but rich in power. We seek hands to assist in the exploration. Join us, and share in the spoils.¡±


    Abel and Lena exchanged glances. Though intrigued, Abel¡¯s mind raced. The nomadic ruins? But the man continued, clarifying it was something else¡ªanother ruin hidden from the public eye, related to the Flower Princess.


    Still, Abel¡¯s instincts sharpened. He stepped forward, listening intently. This bazaar was more than a market.

 Chapter 120: Mr. One’s Proposition

    Chapter 120: Mr. One¡¯s Proposition


    Mr. One stood confidently in front of Abel and the goblin-like man who called himself Dirt. Mr.Ones¡¯s demeanor was calm, yet there was a quiet authority behind his words. The dim light of the bazaar flickered against the man''s grey robe, casting eerie shadows that danced along the sandy walls of the cavernous hall. Abel could see the sharp green iris of Mr.One, which reminded him of Julius¡¯ eyes.


    The coincidences were far too intertwined to dismiss as mere chance. Abel vividly recalled Elliot''s explanation regarding the Murman family¡¯s discovery of the Flower Dance through the Flag Bearer¡¯s Scroll. The flags were undeniably connected, and Abel pieced together a troubling theory: Ike Murman¡¯s sons were likely in possession of the remaining flags, making them key players in a larger, sinister scheme. The Murmans hadn¡¯t simply stumbled upon a historical tradition¡ªthey orchestrated it, cloaking the ritual beneath the guise of a festival.


    Their endgame was tied to the Flower Princess and the ruins beneath Reinhart, their machinations spanning years. This wasn¡¯t just about celebrating a holiday; it was a carefully crafted ritual with deeper, perhaps darker, intentions. Abel couldn¡¯t shake the ominous words of Julius, whom he now recognized as a man hiding behind a false identity: The Flower Princess will take control of Reinhart.


    That notion unsettled Abel. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªthe Flower Princess was, she posed a threat far beyond local politics. Her motives clashed with the Tower¡¯s, and Abel now realized he stood on the edge of a conflict that could alter Reinhart¡¯s fate. One thing was certain¡ªhe would not allow the Murman family¡¯s plans to succeed.


    Abel studied Mr. One intently, sensing the subtle traces of mana that clung to him. This wasn¡¯t just the residual energy from the flag. It was different¡ªingrained. Abel knew it wasn¡¯t enough to classify Mr. One as an apostle, but it was clear he had dabbled in something beyond ordinary means.


    Could it be a rogue apostle¡¯s influence? He wondered if Mr. One had either studied under one or discovered a unique path to harness mana outside a Tower¡¯s jurisdiction. Abel recalled how recruits like Abu had used unconventional methods, such as transplanting a magical eagle¡¯s eye for a boon or Luke using a Marsh Parasite, to bridge the gap between the mundane and the gifted. Mr. One had certainly tapped into something similar.


    Abel dismissed the immediate concern of a rogue Apostle, recalling the Tower¡¯s assurances that no such individual had been registered near Reinhart. However, he couldn¡¯t entirely shake the possibility.


    If there was a rogue Apostle, they were likely unregistered and operating in secrecy, posing a significant threat to the mundane population. He resolved to stay vigilant, attuning himself to any mana fluctuations resembling an Apostle¡¯s presence. Still, he understood the danger: if he could sense them, they could sense him. His goal was clear¡ªdiscover them before they discovered him.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Mr. One''s voice cut through Abel¡¯s thoughts. ¡°There¡¯s a hidden ruin beneath the flower fields of Reinhart, filled with dangers and treasures alike,¡± he said, his tone deliberate and measured. ¡°Only I know how to unlock it, and avoid its many traps.¡±


    Abel¡¯s curiosity deepened. He remembered the strange pull of mana he had felt during the Flower Dance holiday that led to the flower fields. Could this ruin be the source? He kept his expression neutral but listened intently.


    Mr. One continued, ¡°We have a group of eight already. With you two, it will be ten. You¡¯ll need to follow the instructions on these parchments.¡± He handed both Abel and Dirt sheets of paper covered in intricate diagrams and ritual instructions.


    Mr. One leaned in slightly. ¡°There¡¯s more to this ruin than meets the eye, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime. Be prepared,¡± he said cryptically before straightening and walking away, his gray mask disappearing into the shadows of the bazaar.


    Lena, who had stayed a few steps behind, remained silent but attentive. She wasn¡¯t officially invited, but she absorbed every word. As Mr. One vanished into the crowd, Abel and Dirt exchanged a glance. Without a word, they turned and continued exploring the bazaar.


    The atmosphere remained thick with tension, yet Abel felt a quiet satisfaction. He had gained valuable information and confirmed his suspicions about the growing magical influence in Reinhart.


    The bazaar was proof that the town was evolving rapidly, but it also posed a danger. Law enforcement was woefully unprepared for what lay ahead. Aside from Burt¡¯s artifact, as well as Elliors and Jet¡¯s there were no other significant defenses in place. Abel resolved to speak with Mayor Elliot soon. If Reinhart was to survive its transformation, it needed a stronger foundation.


    After finishing their exploration, Abel and Lena retraced their steps to the cave''s entrance. The ritual that had allowed them entry worked in reverse, and soon they were back above ground. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere below.


    As they walked back toward the town, Abel turned to Lena. ¡°You can stay at my estate,¡± he said, his tone calm but firm. ¡°But understand this¡ªany form of betrayal will be met with severe consequences.¡±


    Lena nodded without hesitation. ¡°I owe you my life,¡± she said earnestly, her voice steady with gratitude. ¡°I would never betray someone who saved me.¡±


    Abel chuckled softly. ¡°Twice.¡±


    Lena tilted her head in confusion until Abel reached into his robe and pulled out the crimson flag¡ªthe same one she had seen that fateful night. Her eyes widened in shock, and she stumbled back slightly. ¡°You¡­ it was you?¡±


    Abel tucked the flag back into his robe, a faint smirk on his lips. ¡°Now you understand.¡±


    Her gaze softened, filled with awe and a newfound respect. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I won¡¯t forget this.¡±


    They continued walking side by side, the quiet night enveloping them as they left the forest behind and returned to the town. In the distance, the faint hum of life in Reinhart was a reminder of the challenges ahead, but Abel felt more prepared than ever.

 Chapter 121: A Family of Schemes

    Chapter 121: A Family of Schemes


    Abel and Lena approached the Starry Estate, its grand silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the evening sky. The imposing structure with its sprawling grounds and towering windows cast a serene yet powerful presence. Lena hesitated for a moment at the gate, her eyes widening in awe. She removed her mask, revealing a face filled with wonder and disbelief.


    ¡°This place¡­ it¡¯s incredible,¡± she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±


    Abel pushed open the gate with ease looking at Rian who was standing guard as they greeted. Rian had become accustomed to his employer''s strange sleep schedule but he never pried, he just did his job and appreciated the way Abel handled things.


    Abel walked up towards the front door glancing at her reaction. ¡°Welcome to the Starry Villa,¡± he said calmly. ¡°It¡¯ll be your home from now on.¡±


    Lena followed him up the stone path, her footsteps tentative. She took in the intricately carved wooden doors and the polished marble steps leading into the villa. Once inside, her gaze darted around the spacious interior¡ªthe high ceilings adorned with intricate patterns, the soft lighting, and the gentle hum of quietness that filled the air.


    ¡°I grew up homeless,¡± she confessed, her voice echoing slightly in the grand hall. ¡°Most of my childhood was spent finding shelter wherever I could. This¡­ this feels surreal.¡±


    Abel nodded, understanding her awe but keeping his tone neutral. ¡°It¡¯s yours to explore now. I¡¯ve assigned you a room upstairs,¡± he gestured towards the staircase. ¡°But be mindful of that glove. It¡¯s a powerful tool, but power always comes with a cost. Magic doesn¡¯t offer anything for free.¡±


    Lena¡¯s fingers tightened around the glove as she studied it closely. The leather felt ancient, almost alive as if it pulsed faintly beneath her grip. The intricate designs etched into it reminded her of ancient runes she¡¯d once seen carved into stones at forgotten ruins.


    ¡°I understand,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡±


    Abel¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°Good. The house staff will be here tomorrow to help you settle in. Take tonight to rest.¡± He hesitated for a moment before asking, ¡°Why are you so fascinated with magic?¡±


    Lena¡¯s eyes flickered with memory, and she took a deep breath. ¡°When I was a child, my town was attacked by a four-headed bear. Everyone fled to safety, but no one cared enough to take me with them. I was left behind¡­ alone.¡± She paused, her voice trembling. ¡°I thought I¡¯d die. But then, a man appeared. He wielded a flaming sword and fought the beast. I couldn¡¯t see the battle clearly, but I¡¯ll never forget how he gave me a piece of bread afterward¡­ and disappeared as quickly as he came.¡±


    Abel listened intently, intrigued by her story. ¡°A four-headed bear?¡± he asked thoughtfully. ¡°And this man¡­ he was wearing robes?¡±


    Lena nodded. ¡°Yes. That moment changed everything for me. Since then, I¡¯ve been chasing that power, hoping one day I could protect others the way he protected me.¡±


    Abel considered her words. ¡°It¡¯s a noble pursuit,¡± he said


    Lena¡¯s eyes glimmered with gratitude. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said softly.


    ¡°One more thing,¡± Abel added, his tone firm. ¡°The basement is off-limits. There are things there that don¡¯t concern you.¡±


    Lena nodded, sensing the finality in his words. ¡°Understood.¡±


    Satisfied, Abel gave her a brief nod and turned, making his way down to the basement. Lena stood in the hall for a moment longer, the glove still clutched tightly in her hand. She felt something stir within her¡ªa mix of hope, fear, and excitement. She was stepping into a new world, one she had always dreamed of but never thought she could reach.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    As Abel descended into the basement, the ground shuddered violently, forcing him to steady himself. Suddenly, an ancient, vile mana surged from deep beneath the earth, pressing against his chest like an iron grip.


    Then came the wails¡ªagonized cries of lost souls, echoing through the walls. The piercing sound raked across his mind, sending searing pain through his skull. Blood trickled from his ears as he staggered back, breath ragged.


    Fighting the rising panic, Abel dropped to the ground and forced himself into a meditative stance. He anchored his focus on the steady pulse of his starry mana, driving back the suffocating force.


    After a long, tense moment, the wails faded, leaving behind a deadly silence. His breathing steadied, but the lingering chill in the air told him something ancient had stirred¡­ and it wasn¡¯t done. Abel was confused, unsure of what had just occurred.


    <hr>


    In the lavish estate of the Murman family on First Street, Ike Murman sat rigidly in his chair, his steely gaze locked on Hector, who stood before him. Hector, the eldest son, removed his mask, revealing his composed yet stern face. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and the dim candlelight cast long shadows across the intricately designed room.


    Ike¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°Did the bazaar go as planned?¡±


    Hector nodded confidently. ¡°Yes, Father. We¡¯ve recruited two capable individuals for the Flower Ruins exploration. Both have significant potential, and one of them, in particular, triggered my Metallic Leech¡¯s caution.¡±


    Ike raised a brow, curiosity momentarily overtaking his frustration. ¡°Good. But what of your brother Hanz? Any sign of him?¡±


    Hector¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°We found his remains in the forest. His body was completely drained. No flag in sight.¡±


    Ike¡¯s face twisted with rage. ¡°Hanz was always weak! He failed at the most critical moment!¡± His voice reverberated throughout the room as he clenched his fists.


    ¡°Father,¡± Hector said, his tone steady and composed. ¡°We still possess five flags. Combined with the strength of our recruits, we can still succeed. The person who made my leech react is no ordinary individual. I¡¯m confident he¡¯ll be a major asset.¡±


    Ike calmed slightly, but his fingers still drummed against the armrest. ¡°You better be right. We¡¯ve planned this for years. The Flower Princess is the key, and her power must be mine. But we must ensure everything is in place. What of your brother Hubert? How is his assimilation progressing?¡±


    Hector hesitated for a moment before lifting his robe, revealing a metallic leech embedded in his chest near his heart. The creature writhed sluggishly, its metallic body gleaming under the dim light.


    ¡°Hubert is still struggling. The process isn¡¯t easy,¡± Hector explained, his voice calm but tinged with concern. ¡°Out of the three leeches we recovered, only two could be assimilated. Mine is stable, but Hubert¡¯s leech remains aggressive. It¡¯s resisting him, but I believe he¡¯ll manage. The process is slow, Father, but necessary. Once complete, he¡¯ll gain the same ability I have¡ªturning his body into living metal, allowing him to become a pseudo as well. Imagine how useful this will be in the ruins.¡±


    Ike¡¯s eyes narrowed as he considered this information. ¡°Two sons capable of transforming into metal... That will prove invaluable. Hubert must succeed, Hector. We¡¯re too far in to tolerate failure now.¡±


    Hector inclined his head. ¡°I¡¯ll ensure he completes the assimilation. Soon, we¡¯ll be unstoppable.¡±


    Satisfied, Ike stood, his eyes gleaming with ambition. ¡°Prepare the initial rituals. After some time, we begin sending out instructions to those we''ve recruited. The Flower Princess will be ours, and with her power, I¡¯ll transcend this mundane world.¡± He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°Reinhart will bow before us.¡±


    Hector bowed deeply, leaving the room with a sense of purpose. The weight of their family''s ambition hung heavily in the air, a storm brewing beneath the serene surface of the town. Ike watched his son leave, a cold smile creeping across his face.


    Suddenly, Ike¡¯s smile vanished as the ground beneath him trembled violently, shaking with a destructive intensity that felt almost intentional. The walls groaned, and the floor quaked like a beast stirring from restless slumber.


    Ike staggered, gripping the edge of a sturdy table for support as his guards rushed in, struggling to stay on their feet. Before anyone could speak, a haunting wail echoed through the air¡ªchilling, inhuman, endless¡ªas though tormented souls were clawing their way into the living world.


    Though it lasted only ten agonizing seconds, the sound carved its way into Ike¡¯s mind like a cursed memory, leaving him unnerved and uncertain. His breath steadied, he snapped toward one of his guards.


    ¡°Find Elliot. Now. I want answers.¡±

 Chapter 122: Rank One Apostle

    Chapter 122: Rank One Apostle


    Lena sat on her bed, her eyes shimmering with excitement forgetting the shaking world of yesterday as she stared at the glove resting in her lap. Her fingers traced the intricate, ancient patterns etched into the leather, marveling at the craftsmanship and the energy radiating from it. A magical artifact¡ªher very own.


    She had dreamt of this moment for years, and now it was real. The glove was proof that she wasn¡¯t crazy, despite what others had said. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the relief wash over her, memories of the harsh life she''d endured surfacing.


    Her heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of pride and sorrow. She remembered every cruel sneer, every cold night without shelter, and every day she fought hunger and fear. Yet here she was, holding something powerful¡ªsomething that proved her belief in magic had always been justified. Finally, she was seen. She was valid.


    Taking a deep breath, she looked around her new room. It was warm and inviting, with soft lighting that made the space feel safe. The bed was plush, far more comfortable than anything she had ever known. She stretched out, allowing herself a rare moment of peace. "This... this is what safety feels like," she murmured to herself, wiping the moisture from her eyes.


    Suddenly, the room trembled. The bed shook violently beneath her, and the walls seemed to pulse with an unnatural pressure. The air thickened, almost choking, and Lena¡¯s heart raced in alarm. She clutched the glove instinctively, her fingers tightening around it.


    ¡°What the hell is going on? Again?¡± she whispered, her voice shaky. She stood but quickly sat back down as the floor trembled beneath her feet.


    Her mind raced. She had no idea if this was a magical incident or an attack. Was someone after the glove already? Had she unknowingly triggered something? She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, trying to sense the origin of the disturbance.


    Stay calm. Don¡¯t panic. You¡¯ve been through worse.


    ¡ª


    In the quiet stillness of the basement, Abel sat hunched over a set of parchments spread across a long wooden table. The faint glow of lanterns flickered around him, casting elongated shadows on the stone walls. He had meticulously examined the first parchment, which detailed a ritual to communicate with Mr. One. The ritual''s premise involved a bizarre sequence: picking a specific flower, performing an intricate dance, and ¡°mesmerizing¡± the flower, allowing its petals to drift away and deliver a message.


    Abel furrowed his brow, intrigued yet skeptical. A dance as a medium for ritualistic magic? He had encountered many arcane methods, but this was new. Unfortunately, the parchment didn¡¯t explain the complexities of the ritual itself, leaving more questions than answers. With a sigh, he set it aside and picked up the second parchment.


    This one was from the man in the rat mask at the bazaar. The instructions were straightforward: every first of the month, Abel could meet him at a ridge to the north, identifiable by a cluster of yellow bushes. The man would set up a stall there. Abel smirked. It was oddly mundane for a person dealing in magical artifacts, but it provided a lead. Satisfied, he folded the parchment neatly and placed it into a compartment in his table.


    He turned to the final parchment. This one was different. The parchment crackled with age, the symbols etched into it exuding a faint, ominous energy. A ritual of concealment.


    As Abel skimmed its contents, his pulse quickened. The shapes and formations described were eerily similar to those used in artifact creation rituals, apart from other strange shapes he had never seen before. His eyes lingered on a phrase that caught his attention: The Forgotten One.


    ¡°This again¡­¡± Abel muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening around the parchment.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The ritual described a method to render an area nearly invisible to mundanes, blending seamlessly into its surroundings and making it inconspicuous. Abel¡¯s sharp eyes traced the familiar yet complex patterns¡ªeach symbol had a distinct meaning, yet together they formed a concealed force. The similarities to the artifact-creation rituals were unsettling. Why were these shapes being reused? And who or what was ¡®The Forgotten One¡¯?


    A wave of unease crept over him, but his fascination outweighed it. He carefully placed the parchment aside, making a mental note to revisit it later.


    As he rose from his seat, Abel looked around the room as he had sensed some mana changes in the area but then he placed his hand on his chest as something shifted deep within him. It wasn¡¯t the room¡ªit was internal, something primal.


    Abel staggered slightly, his breath growing ragged. He instinctively moved to the center of the basement and sank into a meditative posture, trying to steady himself. His ethereal star, nestled deep within his mana pool, pulsed erratically. It was stirring.


    His entire body felt as though it were being pulled in different directions. His veins burned with mana, and every breath felt heavier, yet invigorating.


    Sweat glistened on his brow as he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. He had been warned about this by the Tower mentors: the process of synchronizing with one¡¯s mana pool after a breakthrough wasn¡¯t immediate. It was a delicate balance¡ªhis mana pool, spirit, and body were adjusting to each other.


    Abel''s breathing slowed as his resolve strengthened. This is the path. I¡¯m getting closer. Once the synchronization was complete, he would unlock his first rune, marking his official ascension to Rank One Apostle. Though the pain was intense, Abel welcomed it. This was the test every aspiring Apostle endured, and he would not falter.


    His eyes opened, glowing faintly with a stellar hue. A thin stream of light surrounded him, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He exhaled, calming the storm within. He wasn¡¯t just enduring this transformation¡ªhe was mastering it. His time was coming.


    The ethereal star within Abel pulsed violently, sending tremors through the walls of the Starry Villa. The entire house seemed to respond to this awakening, vibrating with energy as if in anticipation of what was about to emerge. Abel, seated firmly in the center of the basement, remained calm, though his heart pounded with excitement. He could feel it¡ªhis first rune was forming.


    The world of Apostles was one where power came through alignment¡ªaffinity, understanding, and experience shaped the nature of their runes. No rune was inherently weak, and each one was tailored to an Apostle¡¯s unique strengths, granting abilities that evolved their prowess in unpredictable ways. Abel knew that whatever rune emerged would not only complement his star affinity but open doors to powers beyond his current imagination.


    He closed his eyes, focusing on the intense energy coursing through him. Every nerve in his body tingled, his senses heightened as though he could hear the hum of the universe itself. The star within him gave a final pulse, sending out blinding starlight that enveloped the entire basement.


    The walls, furniture, and even the air around him dissolved into pure white brilliance. Abel¡¯s vision was overwhelmed, yet he remained perfectly still, feeling the energy converge above him. His breathing slowed, controlled yet deep, each breath synchronizing with the pulsating power.


    Then, at the apex of the light, a distinct shape emerged swallowing the white light that covered the basement: a circle with a dot in the center, surrounded by four smaller dots at opposite cardinal points.


    The rune hovered ominously, radiating an oppressive strength that pressed down on everything around it as if wanting to consume all. It was simple yet profound, its geometry imbued with cosmic power. The rune seemed to pulse with life, vibrating in harmony with Abel¡¯s ethereal star.


    Abel¡¯s eyes snapped open, shining like twin beacons of starlight. His mouth opened as if gasping, but instead of breath, light poured from him¡ªbright, radiant, and overwhelming. His entire body glowed like a lighthouse in the darkness, illuminating every shadow with brilliant clarity.


    The rune slowly descended, sinking into his body. The oppressive weight of it surged through his veins, fusing with his mana core as it floated around the ethereal star like a moon in orbit. He clenched his fists as the energy filled him, his body trembling under the strain. Then, in a final flash, the light vanished, plunging the room back into its dim, lantern-lit normalcy.


    Abel sat there, drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. But his expression was one of triumph.


    He opened his eyes, their usual sharpness now tinged with a faint, starlit glow. A satisfied smile crept across his face. The rune was his. He wasn''t sure if it was due to the ethereal star or the star eater essence of his, but the rune he had received was very complicated.

 Chapter 123: Rising Fortunes

    Chapter 123: Rising Fortunes


    The uppermost chamber of the Stone Tower radiated an air of solemnity and power. Sunlight pierced through narrow, crystalline windows, casting fractured beams of light across ancient stone walls that pulsed faintly with residual mana. The vast chamber, designed for meetings of the highest Tower officials, felt both imposing and sacred.


    Standing near the grand, inscribed window was Vice Tower Leader whose real name was Caelum, his expression one of uncharacteristic delight with the underlying expression of worry. His flawless features, framed by his elegant blond hair, were usually calm and unreadable, but today his smile gleamed with satisfaction.


    Behind him, the Overseer, a robed figure with his face obscured beneath a heavy hood, remained perfectly still, exuding a presence both commanding and enigmatic. The air felt charged, vibrating with anticipation.


    ¡°Are you certain?¡± Caelum asked, his voice silky yet firm, like steel wrapped in velvet.


    The Overseer inclined his head slowly. ¡°Reports from the Apostles arrived this morning.¡± His tone was measured, and precise. ¡°Our Tower Master, along with the leaders of Verdant Sanctuary and Duskfang Bastion, successfully eradicated the Stonebind Dungeon in eastern Bask. The dungeon core has been shattered, its leeching influence over the surrounding mana nullified.¡±


    Caelum chuckled softly, pacing near the rune-lit window. He was aware of things from the Tower Master''s side, but reports from the Apostles were also very important ¡°At last¡­ another shackle of this forsaken land broken.¡± He clasped his hands behind his back. ¡°And the Tower Masters, It seemed they had some important matters to attend to.¡±


    ¡°They''ve departed for the Central Region,¡± the Overseer continued. ¡°They will meet with the King and the Council of the Central Towers. Discussions of claiming a fourth Tower for Bask will begin once the final dungeon is cleansed, however, after the recent developments things could change.¡±


    Caelum¡¯s eyes gleamed with ambition and worry. ¡°The last dungeon... still standing.¡± His voice was almost reverent. ¡°One more conquest, and Bask will be reforged. Its legacy restored.¡±


    The Overseer¡¯s mood shifted slightly, though his expression remained hidden. ¡°Indeed. Once the fourth Tower is sanctioned, our presence in the region will solidify. We can extend operations deeper into the unexplored southern front.¡±


    Caelum turned sharply. ¡°What about casualties?¡± His tone cooled, adopting a calculating edge. ¡°How many of our apostles made it back?¡±


    ¡°Of the ten Apostles above Rank Two deployed from our tower, three did not return, Including Essence and Windchaser who you wanted me to keep an eye on,¡± the Overseer reported evenly. ¡°The others survived, bringing back experience... and spoils. Some have progressed as they have acquired a rune further increasing the strength of our tower.¡± He paused before adding, ¡°The other Towers fared worse. Their Masters also pressed deep into hostile territory.¡±


    Caelum¡¯s expression hardened momentarily before softening again, calculation flickering behind his icy eyes. ¡°Acceptable losses. The conquest¡¯s success outweighs their sacrifices.¡±


    He resumed pacing, boots clicking sharply against the ancient stone floor. The Overseer continued, ¡°The nature of the dungeon played to our Master¡¯s strengths¡ªan endless subterranean labyrinth of stone and enchanted golems. His attunement with earth mana made him... unstoppable. In addition, Magian Verdant has made some interesting findings between the relationship of the towers and their similarities to the dungeons.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Caelum allowed himself another pleased smirk. ¡°Our Tower Master continues to prove invaluable.¡± He paused, resting a hand on the rune-carved window ledge. ¡°Stone by stone, we reclaim what was stolen... and pave the path toward dominion.¡±


    A weighted silence followed, broken only by the hum of distant magic coursing through the Tower¡¯s foundation.


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s expression shifted, his tone steady yet speculative as he brought up the Northern Isles to the Overseer. ¡°Have you heard the reports from the Isles?¡± he asked, his voice carrying a note of cautious curiosity.


    The Overseer¡¯s hooded figure tilted slightly, his face obscured but his attention clear. ¡°Only fragments. New lands mean new opportunities, but the specifics are still unclear.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master nodded, his gaze distant as though envisioning the untouched lands. ¡°Yes, the Central Region seems intent on claiming the Isles for humanity¡¯s expansion. But with every discovery comes risk. I wonder¡ª¡± he hesitated briefly, ¡°¡ªif those lands might hold secrets better left undisturbed.¡±


    The Overseer said nothing, his silence heavy with agreement.


    The Vice Tower Master shifted topics, his brow furrowing. ¡°And what of the earthquakes in Bask? What¡¯s your assessment?¡±


    The Overseer¡¯s voice was low and deliberate. ¡°The quakes were widespread, more than what we¡¯d expect in our region. They were accompanied by... an unsettling presence, as many have reported. Something beneath the surface has stirred.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s unease deepened. ¡°A presence strong enough to affect mana-sensitive individuals. Even our recruits reported faint traces of its influence, though they couldn¡¯t describe it beyond a feeling of dread.¡±


    The Overseer crossed his arms, his voice grim. ¡°It¡¯s not just the quakes. The energy feels... malicious, unlike anything recent. Whatever stirs beneath Bask, it isn¡¯t natural.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master drummed his fingers against the table, his mind churning with possibilities. ¡°With the Tower Masters returning from their conquest, perhaps they¡¯ll have insights. Rewards are expected, yes, but more than that¡ªwe need answers.¡±


    A tense silence filled the room as both men considered the implications.


    ¡°It¡¯s as if¡­ something ancient has awakened.¡±


    The Vice Tower Master¡¯s gaze grew distant, his mind racing through half-forgotten histories. He spoke slowly as if piecing together a grim puzzle:


    ¡°The Earth Giants were eradicated from these lands long before humanity''s rise, even before our Fall. Their Giant King perished in the last age... but this trembling... it¡¯s too similar to the stories.¡±


    His voice sharpened, a cold edge of certainty settling over his words. ¡°If the Giants truly stir beneath the earth, then something triggered their awakening¡ªa forgotten contingency of the alien race we once warred against. A final gambit.¡±


    The room fell into tense silence. He clenched his fists, unwilling to accept such a dire possibility, yet knowing the echoes of the past could not be ignored.


    ¡°In ancient times, Bask belonged to the Earth Giants. Their kind was few, but their power was absolute. They could break continents and shape mountains with a thought. Their heads pierced the clouds, and only the most potent spiritual forces could harm them.¡±


    He drew a slow, steady breath. ¡°We aren¡¯t ready for them.¡±


    His gaze turned toward the horizon, mind fixed on the distant capital. Perhaps that was why the Tower Masters had been summoned¡ªto prepare for a conflict far older and deadlier than any living memory could fathom.


    He could only hope they returned with answers... before it was too late.


    The room dimmed momentarily as clouds drifted past the windows, casting shifting shadows across the stone walls.

 Chapter 124: Silent Awakening

    Chapter 124: Silent Awakening


    Morning light streamed through the grand windows of the Starry Villa¡¯s dining hall, casting gentle rays over the polished wooden table set for breakfast. Abel descended the wide staircase, greeted by the ever-efficient housekeeper, who inclined his head respectfully.


    ¡°Sir,¡± the housekeeper began, his eyes flicking toward the second set of footsteps echoing softly behind Abel. ¡°The new guest?¡±


    Abel nodded. ¡°Lena. She¡¯s my new personal guard and retainer. She¡¯ll be staying indefinitely.¡±


    The housekeeper bowed slightly. ¡°Understood.¡±


    As they proceeded to the dining room, the head chef proudly unveiled a hearty meal: roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and caramelized carrots¡ªa homely and satisfying dish. Lena¡¯s eyes sparkled with hunger, and she eagerly dug in, shoveling the food with unrestrained enthusiasm. She barely left time for a breather, devouring the food like a Star Eater consuming a stellar body.


    Abel, however, ate slowly, his mind lost in thought. His fingers brushed the faint tingling on his chest where his ethereal star pulsed quietly beneath his skin. His thoughts were consumed by the Rune of the Voidborn Stellar Feaster¡ªhis first rune, freshly integrated into his being. He knew it had to be influenced by the Star Eater essence that he had consumed, however, he felt hints of the ethereal star¡¯s influence within the rune as well.


    It lingered near his ethereal star like a celestial sentinel, mysterious and potent. Fragmented knowledge flowed into him from the rune itself, etching ancient instincts into his mind. He grasped a key truth: the rune came with a passive rune spell that would allow him to absorb and channel immense energy¡ªnot only from stars but possibly from other power sources as well, transferring into his own energy source giving him a momentary boost to overcome any obstacle, the skill¡¯s name engraved in his mind: Stellar Burst. It also enabled Abel to manipulate the starry mana consumed to a greater level than before, like a master. So now his gravity control was more intense and his starry creations more powerful than before.


    How and when it would activate the rune spell was unclear. Its passive nature hinted at untapped depths, unlike straightforward destructive or defensive rune spells. There was a subtle allure to its promise of power¡ªdangerous yet captivating.


    Abel also pondered the names of runes and their inherent significance. The moment an individual received a rune, its name, and essence would become known to them instinctively, as though the world itself whispered its secrets into their soul. Each rune carried more than just power¡ªit embodied a fragment of universal law, a truth woven into the fabric of existence since the world¡¯s very creation.


    These truths were neither simple nor uniform. Some manifested as concrete principles, like the pull of gravity or the rhythm of time, while others represented abstract concepts, such as longing, resilience, or destruction. Each rune was utterly unique, specific to the affinity and experiences of its bearer, reflecting their place within the cosmos.


    One thing that intrigued Abel most about runes was their inherent connection to real entities. These entities, often ancient and primordial, were said to embody the very laws or truths that their corresponding runes represented. To deepen his understanding of his rune and accelerate his growth, Abel considered delving into research about the Voidborn Stellar Feaster, the entity that inspired or birthed his rune. Legends spoke of such beings existing in the world at some point¡ªperhaps long ago, or perhaps even now, hidden from mortal eyes. Unraveling their mysteries could unlock not only greater insights but also practical knowledge to refine his control over the power he had been gifted.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    As he mulled over these thoughts, Abel reminded himself that up to the fifth rune an apostle could create, each rune laid the groundwork for the momentous breakthrough into the realm of Magian. This was his first step on that path¡ªa crucial foundation for everything to come. Yet, the journey was not without its challenges.


    A shadow of doubt crept over him, fueled by the quirk tied to his affinity. It whispered questions into his mind, like a persistent wind chipping away at stone. What is the point of chasing strength? Why should I strive for more? The weight of those questions threatened to stall his momentum, pulling him toward a dangerous apathy.


    But Abel¡¯s resolve was stronger than the quirk¡¯s influence. He shook himself free from the spiraling thoughts by focusing on what truly mattered¡ªhis family, still out there somewhere, waiting to be found. The memory of them cut through the haze of doubt, grounding him in his purpose. And then there was the burden of responsibility he carried: representing the human race and ensuring its survival in a rapidly changing, increasingly magical world.


    These were reasons enough to fight, to grow stronger, and to push beyond his limits. The quirk¡¯s doubts might be persistent, but Abel¡¯s determination was far greater¡ªa steady flame that refused to be extinguished.


    As Abel reflected on his rune, he couldn¡¯t help but notice how his own quirk had grown more intense. A sense of loneliness and longing lingered within him, an ever-present ache that had become more noticeable over time, causing doubts to appear in his mind. It was not overwhelming, but it was there, like a quiet whisper at the back of his mind.


    This strange pull seemed to anchor itself in the southern skies, tugging at his thoughts whenever he gazed upward. The reason for this pull eluded him, and the lack of clarity only deepened the mystery. Despite its peculiar nature, the quirk wasn¡¯t detrimental; it didn¡¯t hinder his daily life or his abilities.


    If anything, Abel found it more intriguing than troubling, a puzzle to unravel in the future.


    ¡°Gods, that was incredible!¡± Lena¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts as she pushed aside her second empty plate, her face lit with pure joy. ¡°Best meal I¡¯ve ever had!¡±


    The head chef beamed with pride. Abel, momentarily startled by her lack of etiquette, simply smiled faintly. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to be annoyed. He knew where she came from¡ªa harsh life carved from survival, hunger, and determination.


    As she reached for more food with gusto, Abel¡¯s gaze drifted back to the window, where morning clouds rolled lazily across the sky. His fingers tapped idly on the table as the pulse of his rune echoed faintly in his chest


    Lena leaned back with satisfaction after finishing her meal. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan for today?¡± she asked, curiosity sparking in her voice.


    Abel set down his utensils, his expression thoughtful. ¡°I¡¯ll be speaking with Mayor Elliot about some important matters. Tomorrow, you¡¯ll join me for magical-related tasks.¡±


    Her eyes lit up with excitement. ¡°Understood!¡±


    ¡°As for today, do whatever you wish,¡± Abel added. ¡°But don¡¯t cause trouble¡ªand ensure no one intrudes into the basement.¡±


    Lena nodded firmly, feeling a renewed sense of responsibility. She was eager to train with the glove, learning its intricacies and unlocking its hidden potential.


    Meanwhile, Abel moved into the quiet living room, retrieving his Tower-issued badge from his robe¡¯s inner pocket. His gaze lingered on it as he considered the town¡¯s fragile balance. He felt certain that the Tower had already communicated with Mayor Elliot regarding the magical changes underway in Reinhart.


    When they met later, Abel planned to urge the mayor to equip the town¡¯s enforcement forces with magical artifacts and arcane knowledge¡ªessential tools for a place teetering on the edge of magical evolution. Drawing from the models of Central Region cities, where enchanted gear was standard for law enforcement, he saw a clear path forward.


    With proper preparation, Reinhart could flourish¡ªbut only if its leaders acted swiftly and decisively. Stability demanded strength.