After breakfast, we went out to explore the city.
At least, that was the plan.
In reality, we didn't go anywhere.
We ended up sitting in the market, under a tree, saying nothing.
None of us had the energy to pretend everything was normal. The market was alive, full of merchants shouting and people moving in waves, but it all felt distant, like we were watching it from behind glass.
We just sat there in silence.
Feeling the cold breeze.
Watching people live their lives.
And quietly acknowledging the only thing that mattered…
We were still alive.
That alone felt… strange.
It feels heavy and unreal.
There were too many things to process.
Master's arrival.
The raid.
The fact that we survived.
What comes next?
But we didn't talk about any of it.
We just sat.
"The patrol guards look busy today."
Theo was the first to break the silence.
We followed his gaze.
Guards were moving more frequently than usual, their steps sharper, more coordinated. Some of them were stopping along the streets, pressing posters onto walls, wooden boards, and even pillars.
It wasn't normal.
"…what are they putting up?" Agni muttered.
We leaned slightly, trying to get a better look…
"Don't."
Spiro's voice cut in sharply.
We turned.
He had appeared behind us without a sound.
"Quick. Back to the inn," he said, his tone low but urgent. "Especially you, Rick, wear your hood. Don't let the guards see your face."
My chest tightened.
That tone again.
Something was wrong.
We didn't ask questions.
We moved.
Through the back alleys.
The narrow paths we had spent weeks memorizing.
Every turn, every broken wall, every hidden passage. We ran through them instinctively. No hesitation. No wasted movement.
The city that once felt wide and overwhelming had become a maze we could navigate blindly.
We slipped into the inn from the rear entrance.
Down the stairs.
Into the basement.
Straight to the room in the middle.
They were already there.
Master.
Seyren.
Eremes.
And three senior members of the Assombrir clan.
We were still catching our breath when Eremes stepped forward and handed us a sheet of paper.
"…look."
I took it.
And froze.
It was my face.
Roughly drawn, but unmistakable.
Beside it…
Spiro.
Margaretha.
"…they found us," Theo whispered.
No one corrected him.
Because it was obvious.
Our identities as a bloodline clan had been exposed.
A quick glance around.
Theo. Robert. Agni. Pritha.
Their faces weren't there.
Relief came first.
Then something else.
Guilt.
"You can't stay here anymore…"
Seyren's voice was calm, but heavy.
"Well," Master replied just as calmly, "I think it was worth it. What we gained is enormous. They've done enough."
No one argued.
Not even Seyren.
"Let's return to the hideout for now," Master continued. "We'll resume the war next year."
Seyren, Eremes, Spiro, and the Assombrir members nodded.
Decisive.
No hesitation.
"Next time," Master added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, "I will personally join the war."
Something about the way he said it…
It didn't feel reassuring.
It felt like a promise of something worse.
"I'll coordinate with Count Versailles and prepare the mercenaries," Seyren said, already turning toward the exit.
He didn't wait for a response.
Eremes and the others exchanged a few words among themselves before excusing their departure. Preparations. Wagons. Logistics.
They left quickly.
Efficiently.
And just like that…
It was only us.
And Master.
The room fell into an awkward silence.
No one knew what to say.
Or what to do.
Master walked to the only desk in the room and sat down.
Calm.
Unbothered.
"Sit," he said. "No need to be tense."
We obeyed immediately, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Even then, my shoulders didn't relax.
"Since we're in hiding," Master continued, "we might as well check your status."
A book appeared in his hand.
Just like that.
No chant. No movement.
It simply… existed.
My eyes lingered on it.
What is that…?
"Spiro first."
I felt it before I fully saw it.
Mana covers the book densely.
The book glowed faintly as something invisible connected it to Spiro.
Then I saw it.
A thin string.
Stretching from Spiro's chest to the book.
My breath caught.
Because…
I could see mine too.
And everyone else's.
Faint.
Hard to notice unless I focus.
But now, filled with mana, they glowed slightly brighter.
Like threads of light.
Master tore a page from the book and held it out.
***
Spiro Assombrir
Job: Assassin
Strength: 54
Vitality: 39
Dexterity: 64
Intelligence: 79
Mana Density Level: 4
Skills:
Assombrir's Blessing [S] | Journeyman-tier
The blessing of Assombrir, the Tyrant of Darkness.
Assombrir Dagger Art [A] | Journeyman-tier
Leadership [A] | Apprentice-tier
The art exclusive to Assombrir clan, maximizing their bloodline power.
Critical Strike [A] | Apprentice-tier
An innate authority that subtly aligns the intent and courage of those who follow.
Mana Control [B] | Apprentice-tier
An advanced sensory technique that identifies and exploits a target's structural or biological vulnerabilities.
Swift Footstep [B] | Apprentice-tier
A specialized movement art that allows for unnatural bursts of speed and weightless repositioning.
Basic Swordsmanship [D] | Apprentice-tier
The standard foundation of blade-work, focusing on the fundamental cycles of offense and defense.
Special Trait:
Fate Defier [SSS]
We stared at it.
Understanding the words.
But not the meaning.
Numbers.
Letters.
Tiers.
"…what does this mean?" Theo muttered.
I felt the same.
Was it high?
Low?
Good?
Bad?
But my eyes stopped at one line.
Fate Defier [SSS]
My chest tightened.
A memory surfaced.
Painful one.
That dream when i was saved by master and...Frans.
That voice.
[Fate Defier detected.]
[Attempting to bless through Akashic Record.]
[…]
[Blessing failed. Cause: blocked by bloodline mana.]
[Retrying…]
[…]
[Blessing failed. Cause: blocked by bloodline mana.]
[Retracting blessing...]
My head throbbed.
Akashic Record…
"Master," Spiro spoke, breaking the silence. "What do the numbers mean?"
"It's my bloodline ability," Master replied casually. "The Akashic Record. I quantify everything. your strength, abilities, potential.
Akashic Record.
The same thing from the dream.
Was that… him?
"Think of 10 as the average strength of an adult," Master continued. "For intelligence, around 40."
We started counting on our fingers.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"So…" Theo said, frowning. "Spiro is about five times stronger than a normal adult… twice as intelligent… and six times more precise?"
Master nodded.
"…what about mana level?" Margaretha asked.
"That's different," Master said. "Mana scales exponentially. Level 1 is an average adult. Level 2 is roughly ten times denser."
We froze.
Then started calculating.
"…so level 4 is…" Agni muttered.
"…a thousand times?" he finished, eyes widening.
"Not exactly," Master corrected. "It's an approximation. The higher the level, the less accurate that scaling becomes."
"…why?" Robert asked immediately.
"Because the gap within the same level grows," Master explained. "Someone who just reached level 6 is vastly weaker than someone at the peak of level 6. That difference can exceed the gap between level 1 and level 6."
Silence.
"But," he added, "mana density is only raw power. Control and technique matter more. A level 4 can defeat a level 5 with superior skill."
I nodded slowly.
So the brightness I see…
Is mana density.
Then…
"How about you, Master?" Theo asked.
"Level 8."
The room went still.
"…Seyren and Eremes?" I asked.
Not out of curiosity.
For reference.
"Both level 6."
I nodded.
Numbers.
Levels.
Now I could measure them.
Compare them.
"Patriakis is 6. Havan is 6. Elder Howard is 7," Master added. "Use them as references for your eyes, Rick."
He chuckled softly.
He knew why I asked.
"Thank you, Master."
I bowed instinctively.
"You have good eyes," he said.
A brief pause.
"Don't waste them."