As the movie played on the grand screen before them, with enchanted visuals dancing across the velvet-curtained VIP room, Arthur's gaze remained distant.
His thoughts weren't on the film.
"Elaris, show me their status."
A soft chime echoed in his mind, only audible to him.
Displaying: Nyx Akers
Rank: 1 (Beginner)
Age: 15
Unique Skill: Skill Weaver
— Grants the ability to combine two compatible skills to form a new one. Incompatible skills fail to merge.
Loyalty: 1%
Extra Skills:
• A-Rank Skill: Mastery up to 20%
• B-Rank Skills ×2: Mastery up to 40%
• C-Rank Skills ×5: Mastery up to 60%
• D-Rank Skills: Mastery up to 80%
• E/F-Rank Skills: Mastery up to 100% (None mastered yet)
Affinity: — Darkness
Affiliation: Nyx Akers
Background:
An orphan. His parents—both Rank 5 adventurers—were officially declared dead during a labyrinth raid. In truth, they were executed by the leader of the Angel's Guild for acquiring a rare core-advancing artifact. Their deaths were covered up by contract.
Afterward, Nyx's relatives seized his inheritance, exploited him, and abandoned him at age six. Alone, he awakened his mana circuit and discovered his unique skill.
The Evans family found him soon after. In exchange for providing him with a powerful A-rank and two B-rank skills, he agreed to serve them. He had little choice.
Arthur's gaze darkened slightly.
Used, tossed, and now chained again…
A soft sigh escaped his lips, inaudible under the surround sound of the theatre. He nodded to himself.
"Now, show me Georgina."
Displaying: Georgina Evans
Age: 14
Rank: 1 (Beginner)
Class: Close Combat Fighter
Unique Skill: Mind Reader
— Can read the thoughts of individuals weaker than her mentally.
Loyalty: -10%
(She sees you as dangerous and wishes to stay cautious.)
Extra Skills:
• A-Rank Skills : Mastery up to 15%
• C-Rank Skills * 2 : Mastery up to 30%
• D-Rank Skills: Mastery up to 40%
• E/F-Rank Skills: Mastery up to 90% / 100% (None mastered yet)
Affiliation: Evans Family
Background:
Daughter of Seraphine Evans, an Intermediate Rank 8 powerhouse.
Assigned to accompany Nyx as insurance. Her presence ensures no other noble family attempts to recruit him without resistance.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
Mind Reader… and loyalty in the negatives. Not ideal, but expected.
He leaned back in his plush seat. The flickering light of the movie cast shadows over his expression—calm, yet calculating.
"An orphan who creates skills… a prodigy girl who can hear thoughts… And yet both are trapped in chains of loyalty and power."
His lips curled into a slight, thoughtful smile.
"Still worth keeping an eye on… definitely worth the investment."
................
After that moment in the theater, Arthur and his group stopped thinking about politics, battles, or powers. At least for a while.
They let themselves enjoy the world.
After the movie, they strolled through the vibrant night streets of Valerian County's central district. Lit by enchanted lamps and holographic signs, the city felt like a merging of magic and modern Earth. Shops, cafes, and entertainment domes buzzed with life.
They visited a bustling fair — a fest as it was called in the local tongue — where Leona got lost twice in the crowd, Drake almost got into a competitive eating contest, and Arthur just smiled at the simplicity of it all.
They tried on clothes, bought sweets, and even went on a short shopping spree. Leona argued with a clerk about sword polish. Drake bought three enchanted caps, each more ridiculous than the last. Arthur, for once, just let himself be dragged along.
But the highlight?
The game.
In this world, games weren't just for leisure — most were crafted with magical realism. Players felt the impact, the adrenaline, the movements — all in real time. And among them, the most famous was a sport that mirrored a version of Harry Potter-style aerial football. Known here as Skystride Quorun, it was played on hovering platforms and flying boards, with magical orbs and goal rings that shifted mid-air.
Arthur and his team played for hours, diving, flipping, shouting, laughing.
Just as Arthur had promised — a little training, hidden beneath play.
And so, four days slipped by.
Quietly, peacefully.
But the storm never stays far.
...............…
A sleek magitech aircraft stood parked on Valerian County's private runway, its silver-and-blue body shining under the golden dawn. Intricate runes pulsed faintly along its wings. It was fast. Advanced. Silent. A symbol of nobility with power.
The Valerian sigil—a sword piercing a golden crown—was proudly etched near the nose of the plane.
The boarding area was cordoned off. Only those selected for the capital mission stood here now.
Inside the plane, it was spacious, designed with noble efficiency. Velvet seats, mahogany tables with folding enchantments, and a full mana filtration system made even the highest noble families envious.
At the heart of it all sat Arthur Valerian, beside a wide window, the soft morning light casting golden lines across his thoughtful face.
Leona and Drake, sitting nearby, were trying to look calm. Leona picked at the seal on her new sword sheath, and Drake was testing a portable mana orb charger—pretending to understand how it worked.
Across from them, sipping black tea from a porcelain cup, sat a man exuding presence without needing to say a word.
Count Alaric Valerian, head of House Valerian.
Black hair slicked back. Black beard neat and trimmed. His eyes were darker than either — like cold iron. He wore a high-collared noble coat in black and indigo, with the Valerian crest stitched in subtle silver thread across the chest. Even seated, he had the posture of a general, or a king.
A newspaper floated before him — suspended by light telekinetic magic.
He didn't read it anymore.
He was thinking.
Arthur could feel it.
Rein stood behind the Count, quietly coordinating with Sebastian and Kael, the Knight Captain, who was clad in light armor beneath a formal cloak. Behind them sat the twenty elite knights and ten mages — the very best of Valerian County's internal guard. They sat straight. Proud. Silent.
Each bore weapons enchanted by Valerian smiths. Each wore mana-imbued travel cloaks with protection runes. This wasn't just a visit to the capital.
It was an arrival.
As the aircraft lifted into the sky — smooth and near-silent — Arthur looked toward his father.
Count Alaric slowly folded the paper and placed it on the small table between them.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
Arthur nodded once. "Yes, Father."
"Good."
The Count didn't smile. He rarely did. But his voice had warmth in it — deep and measured.
He looked toward Leona and Drake. "You brought your aides. Good. Don't let them slack once we land. The capital's different."
Drake straightened. "Y-Yes, sir."
Leona nodded seriously.
Alaric looked back to Arthur. "And you… Be sharp. The Emperor isn't the only one watching Round 3. You've made waves."
Arthur gave a calm look. "I'll handle it."
Alaric held his son's gaze for a moment. Then… nodded.
"You will."
After nearly six hours of smooth, enchanted flight — untouched by wind or turbulence — the aircraft finally began its descent.
Through the large mana-tempered glass windows, the Capital of Elydron unveiled itself.
The beating heart of the Elydrion Empire.
The strongest nation in the world.
The seat of power.
From the skies, one could see the mighty River Antheris winding through the city like a silver serpent. Vast and luminous, its waters shimmered with hues of emerald and sky blue, reflecting the spells cast within its depths. The people called it the River of Life, and it was said to have been blessed by Lunaria, the Goddess of Prosperity, Nature, and Life.
It was not just sacred. It was alive.
Legends said the river's mana nurtured the city itself, feeding both the land and the people with a divine flow that had never ceased for over 9000 years.
As the plane flew closer, the true scale of Elyndor unfolded.
Towering spires touched the clouds, some constructed of marble and gemstone-laced steel, others of enchanted crystal that reflected the sun like divine lanterns. Massive high-rise buildings lined the inner city, their designs combining ancient magic runes with modern tech architecture—a reminder that the Elydrion Empire ruled through both wisdom and force.
Across the skyline, glowing carriages powered by mana cores zipped through the air in perfectly controlled lanes. Below, the Nexus Rail System crisscrossed the city in elegant lines, forming a silver web that connected every major sector.
"It's like Earth," Arthur murmured, eyes wide as saucers.
After some time he murmured to himself
" It's even better"
Leona and drake remained silent they were too surprised after seeing this big city for first time.
As the aircraft glided toward the heart of the capital, the atmosphere changed. The mana in the air grew heavier, purer, more refined. Their destination—the Core Sector—was the most protected zone on the continent.
Surrounding it stood three colossal towers, arranged in a perfect triangle around a circular central plaza. Each tower was a symbol of dominion:
•Tower of Law and Order, led by the Empire's Magistrate Council, served as the administrative core.
•Tower of Arcana, home to the Imperial Magicians, was a monument to magical supremacy.
•Tower of Valor, garrison of the Imperial Knights, held the military backbone of the empire.
Each tower was the personal property of the Imperial Family—both in name and power.
At the very center stood the Grand Imperial Palace, a masterpiece of architecture so immense and radiant it humbled even the sky. With ivory-white walls, golden domes, and soaring towers adorned in runes, the palace bore the sigil of House Elydrion:
A phoenix crowned, wings outspread, rising above a burning sun, with three stars behind it.
The very symbol of rebirth, dominance, and destiny
As the aircraft gently touched down on a floating dock near the inner palace wall, Arthur, Leona, and Drake remained speechless.
They had read about it. Dreamt of it.
But this… this was another world.
"A fucking city like this… it could rule an entire continent," Drake muttered.
Leona nodded slowly. "This alone… is proof they rule the world."
Arthur's father, Count Alaric Valerian, finally spoke as the ramp descended.
"This is the truth most nobles never see," he said calmly. "There are those who flaunt their power in their little fiefdoms. But here… the real lords reside."
He turned his gaze to Arthur and the two at his side.
"There are many nobles who never leave their homes. But the true powerhouses — they live here, in the capital. Only Counts and above are granted estates in this city."
"Why?" Leona asked, her voice hushed.
Alaric explained as they walked down the ramp.
"Because this city is sacred. The River Antheris sustains its core. All of the Emperor's grand plans, magical research, and military intelligence stem from this city. Unless your family has someone of Rank 8 or higher, or the Emperor himself favors you… you cannot live here."
He looked to the skyline.
"Even among nobles, only eighteen houses outside the three Duke Families have such qualifications."
Arthur added calmly, "And of course, guild leaders like those of the Angels Guild or the Hunters Guild who've reached Rank 8… and select civil officers of Grade 2 or higher."
"And," Alaric said, "every Imperial Knight or Magician of Rank 6 and above—they have the right to a residence within the Core Sector. A privilege earned, not inherited."
Drake whistled. "So this is where the real monsters live."
Arthur didn't disagree.
As the shimmering mana fields of the Core Sector pulsed gently around them, Arthur turned his gaze toward his father. The imposing towers, floating carriages, and crystalline roads faded into the background.
He had to ask.
"Father… how many Rank 8s reside in our empire?"
Count Alaric Valerian, silent for a moment, glanced toward the sky as if calculating the weight of that question. Then, with measured tone, he replied.
"Thirty. Officially."
Arthur's eyes widened.
Leona's breath caught in her throat.
Even Drake, normally loose with his words, muttered under his breath, "Thirty…? That's…"
"Too many…" Arthur finished quietly.
For a second, the capital felt even larger. Each towering spire now seemed like it could house a god of war or magic. Thirty individuals strong enough to influence the fate of the continent.
"And that's just officially recorded," Alaric continued, his voice low, as if the air itself respected the names he dared not speak.
"There are… a few hidden ones. Retired, or operating in shadows. Unregistered… or unwilling."
"Why keep them hidden?" Leona asked.
Alaric smiled faintly.
"Because sometimes, fear of the unknown is more powerful than strength itself."
Arthur, regaining his composure, turned to face his father fully.
"Then… how does the Elydrion Empire compare to the others?"
Alaric laughed—short, proud, and with a hint of nobility in his tone.
"The Earthworld Empire, far to the west, has fourteen Rank 8s on record."
"The Federal Alliance, in the east, has only twelve."
"And in the mysterious seas of the south, the oceanic kingdom of Antalantis, ruled by the Whalesingers… they have fifteen."
He paused, letting the numbers settle in the minds of the younger generation.
"Again… all of these are official records. Just like us, they likely hide their trumps."
Leona spoke softly, "Even then… we have more than double some of them."
Drake blinked rapidly. "So, we really do sit at the top of the world…"
Arthur's expression sharpened, brows furrowed.
"No wonder they say the Elydrion Empire's foundation is mana, blood, and fire. Thirty Rank 8s… that's not just power. That's deterrence. That's control."
Alaric nodded slowly, gaze fixed ahead.
"It's why wars are rare. Why alliances are careful. No one wants to challenge a mountain when they're still building ladders."
They rode the enchanted platform through the crystal-lit air toward the Valerian estate.
And for the first time in years, Arthur felt something stir beneath his calm surface.
He paused for a moment, then asked, "What about Rank 9?"
His father chuckled softly. "Officially, it's Rank 6."
A collective breath escaped from everyone—Rank 6 was the closest anyone had ever come to gods.
"The Elydrion Empire is a walking legend," his father continued. "Even if the entire world rose against them, they'd stand unshaken. Truly, an empire of monsters."
"Who's the strongest in the empire?" someone finally asked.
"You're asking a lot of questions," his father said with a grin, "but it's fine. You're going to meet him anyway."
"Don't tell me…"
"Yes. The Emperor Solan Marvek Elydrion?"
Everyone was stunned. A leader with that cool, grandpa vibe being the strongest? Incredible.
Alaric nodded. "And he's not just the strongest in the empire."
Leona's eyes narrowed. "You mean…?"
Alaric chuckled. "Yes. He's currently the strongest being in this world."
"But there are the Dragon Emperor, the Demon King, the Pope of Valhalla Church—"
"You'll understand in time," Alaric interrupted. "For now, just know this: our Emperor is a living divinity."
A heavy silence fell over them all, the weight of the revelation sinking in as they sat in Kovel's chapter.