NOVEL NEXT Chapter 112 - The Promise of a New Beginning
The cold, heavy blanket smothered Alaric as he blinked open his eyes to the call of the morning sun rays. Releasing a sigh, he yanked the blanket and tossed it over to the side. It was another day with no word from his mother.
For almost ten days now, he had been yearning for a sign from his mother. Something unusual that could pull his attention, or even another cat. He desperately longed to reconnect with his mother, but nothing screamed out of the ordinary in his dreams.
Why am I suddenly so worried about a woman that I've never met before in my life? He didn't know whether the emotional turmoil he felt was a part of him or a remnant of the original soul that may have inhabited his body.
He only knew one thing. No matter how exciting he made his dream world, it felt hollow and lifeless. He raked his fingers through his messy hair, grounding his emotions.
Our paths are destined to cross when the time is right. There is no reason to wallow in despair, especially when so many people are striving to keep me protected.
A yawn escaped his mouth. The pull of the bed was strong, but he didn't heed its call.
The steaming plate of soup by the bedside table caught his attention. Tasting a spoonful of the delicious chicken soup, he observed the steam dancing in chaotic patterns, mirroring the emotions inside his chest. But steam would disappear, he would not.
Alaric stirred the tiny pieces of vegetables in defiance, simply watching the swirling pattern. Let everything be chaotic. I will survive this.
The situation with the witches had caught him off guard. Especially that scar-faced witch that everybody was so apprehensive of. Even Rubina seemed to take her seriously. And to make matters worse, somehow the Inquisitor had figured out that he was the child of a witch.
He cracked a grin as the vegetable and chicken pieces settled down inside the bowl after a while. Yes, no matter how turbulent the situation seems, it will settle down in the end.
Not everything about his current life was bad, though. He couldn't assist the squad of church soldiers and black flame hunters in their fight with the witches. Nor could he suddenly become strong enough to handle this mess all alone.
Still, he did manage to fully recover his mana core and energy pathways. His intuition had been right. His idea of nourishing his living energy channels with his willpower had proved fruitful. It had accelerated the healing process and reduced complications with recovery.
Fixing the cracks in his mana core had been easy; he just needed to cultivate inside his Cultivation Sanctuary, where the ambient mana was three times as rich.
However, repairing his tangled living energy pathways was not a simple matter of nourishing them with mana. But when he imbued them with his own willpower, they responded to his call.
It didn't take long for them to regain their strength and vitality. And when they did, the rest had been super easy. His living energy pathways had rearranged themselves into their original form.
A part of him had wanted to experiment, reorganizing them to the structure that enabled him to battle Omega Prime. However, he refrained for now. It wasn't time yet, especially now when there was no room to make any mistakes.
This period of rest had also allowed him to spend more time with Edgar and his father than ever before. It was interesting to learn about the various important noble factions in the Empire, their influence, and their relationship with the church and other noble houses.
It sounded like the De Vermond family wasn't anything special in the grand scheme of things. There were plenty of big sharks in the ocean. But Alaric didn't aspire to become a shark when he could become a whale, a kraken, or even a legendary Leviathan.
He retrieved a notebook from his spatial storage ring. His father's gift was a true wonder, and he deeply studied the enchantments on it. Unfortunately, these were unlike the runic enchantments that he was familiar with.
These enchantments felt too rigid, structured, and purposefully engineered to resist scrutiny. He had a hunch that experimenting with these runic structures would be a bad idea without a thorough understanding.
To cure his boredom and anxiety, Alaric had taken an interest in note-taking and journaling. Recording his thoughts, worries, and feelings helped to ground him and keep him engaged.
He flipped to a page that outlined his father's and Edgar's commentaries on the various other authoritative factions that indirectly ruled the ecosystem within the Empire.
The Adventurer's Association oversaw the various adventurers' guilds. The Merchant's Association governed all the merchants' guilds. The Alchemist's Association directed the various alchemists' guilds.
The hierarchy of sects, clans, and great families in this new world was akin to that in his previous world. And, he had already studied many books that detailed the major powerful organizations in this empire.
Still, it had been much more insightful to hear what his father and Edgar had to say about these large organizations. He had come a long way in these past seven years and grown formidable for his own Tier. But he still had a long way to go before he could guarantee the safety of his loved ones.
He had already partially awakened six of the seven chakras, but he was yet to tread the true path of a true chakra cultivator.
Still, being a chakra cultivator might not be enough in this new realm. More than once, he had caught snippets of conversation between Edgar and his father. They were worried that Alaric might catch the attention of the true powerhouses of this world.
Beings of unimaginable power that even the Eternal Sovereign, the emperor of the Aurion Empire, and the Pontifex of the Church of Radiant Flame couldn't offend. Who lived their lives as they pleased and answered to nobody.
That was the height he aspired to reach in this world, someday. And he knew one thing for sure: all of them had ascended to the uppermost floors of the Tower of Trials. Alaric grinned, perking up at the challenge. He was competitive, if nothing else.
I cannot wait to properly master my witch bloodline. Rubina had started teaching him the basics of witch culture, preparing him to stay safe in their presence.
She had expressed her wish to accept Alaric as her disciple and impart her own cultivation technique that would allow him to strengthen the witch bloodline within.
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However, it would've been an inferior version to what his own mother could teach him. So, in the end, she urged Alaric to wait for his mother. Alaric had agreed.
Alaric pulled himself from his bed, approaching the open window with slow steps. He glanced at the dark clouds that seemed like they could fall from the sky at any moment. A flash of lightning called his attention, followed by a deep rumble.
A bubble of excitement burst in his chest. Now, I wonder how long I have before I can prepare for the Tribulation.
***
Alaric recalled all the frustration he'd bottled up for the past few days and channeled it into his next attack, launching a mana blast at Edgar. The cunning head-butler disappeared into a plume of smoke just as the swirling ball of mana hit his form.
His father appeared at his side, attempting to sneak in a blow, but he deftly evaded the strike, retaliating with his own. The three of them danced within the Whispering Woods training area.
Yes, this is the feeling I had been missing. More, I need more. Alaric weaved in mana blasts and disruptive pulses, in between dodging shadowy threads and crackles of lightning.
For almost ten days, he had refrained from sparring, focusing only on healing his mana core and restructuring his energy pathways. He had even refrained from training inside his dream world, focused on looking for signs from his mother and resting deeply.
Now, he lost himself in simultaneously sparring with Edgar and his father, refining the edge in his fighting form he had lost during the brief pause. It was simply a test to check whether he was healed properly and could handle multiple opponents.
Their attacks seemed slower, less intense. It didn't take long for him to realize that both of them were taking it a little easy on him. As if they were suddenly worried about breaking him again.
But he didn't mind the relaxed fighting pace. With so much going on, they probably decided not to overwhelm me.
After a while, all of them returned to the mansion. Today was the day he would depart for the academy, and there was a lot to do.
***
"Alaric, can you dance?" said Edgar.
For a moment, Alaric was stunned. What did the old man say right now? He scrunched his brows, trying to understand whether Edgar was just messing with him or if the question was genuine. Nothing came to his mind that could explain that sudden question.
Still, he decided to proceed with caution. "Maybe," he said. "Why do you ask?"
"There will be many girls in the academy," said Edgar, wiggling his eyebrows. "If you don't know how to dance, it will become harder to charm them."
Alaric stared at the head-butler, who seemed to be enjoying himself a bit too much.
"Well, thank you so much for your concern," replied Alaric. "But I'm not going to a prestigious academy to woo girls. I'm going there to study."
He turned to look at his father, expecting some backing. However, the disappointed look on his face told a different story.
"Are you really my son?" said the count, looking disappointed. "You have to learn how to have some fun once in a while. You know, let loose. Enjoy life." The count cracked a smile, cutting a piece of steak with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth.
They really are messing with me! Alaric didn't bother to respond, preferring to show his disappointment by shaking his head. It was almost time to leave the city.
***
The whole mansion was abuzz with activity. Servants lined the doors, witnessing the departure of Alaric with their Count and the squad of Knights. Some of them looked frightened, while others simply looked sad.
It wasn't difficult to guess that news of trouble had reached their ears. But their eyes didn't only speak of fear, but affection as well. He spotted Elara, wiping the tears from her eyes and trying her best to look presentable.
Alaric approached her with a smile and embraced her. Elara clung to him like a mother could cling to a son heading off to war.
"Now you listen to me, young master," she stared right into his eyes. "Be sure to have your meals at the correct time. And don't drown yourself in books. You need friends."
"As you wish, your majesty," said Alaric, chuckling. It was the least he could do to honor her wishes. In the end, she couldn't hold on to her tears anymore and began to sob.
Alaric suppressed his own desire to let out a few tears and gently patted her on the back. "If you keep crying, I won't leave," he said softly. "Besides, it's not like I'm going away permanently. I will return home, I promise."
That seemed to calm her down a little, but he caught a sliver of some repressed emotion in her eyes. As if she had wished to say something more, but thought better of it. Suddenly, Alaric had a hunch.
Did news of my mom somehow reach her ears? He shook his head. No, that's impossible. It is a secret. However, it seemed Elara's intuition was strong. The words she had left unspoken were expressed clearly in her eyes - Alaric, I hope you will remember me.
Alaric firmly grasped her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "I want you to know that no one can ever replace your place in my heart." Elara closed her eyes and wept into his chest once more, but the worst of it was over.
He glanced at Sir Baldwin and the squad of knights that would accompany him and the count to the capital. Originally, his father and the knights weren't supposed to join him.
It wasn't mandatory for parents to visit the Academy before a student's admission was confirmed. But with the ongoing conflict with the witches, the count couldn't take a chance.
He had decided to escort Alaric himself. Meanwhile, Captain Aldric and the house guards would safeguard the estate under the supervision of Edgar.
"Show them what you can do with your swords, kid," said Captain Aldric, flashing a grin. He was really proud of Alaric, being his first official sword instructor.
Alaric simply nodded. He wasn't interested in being a swordsman. He had learned the art of the sword because it allowed him to grasp how a swordsman fought. Knowing the methods of enemies was always valuable.
Finally, as the evening sun was just about to set, Alaric and the count stepped inside the coach. He gazed at the mansion that had served as his shelter for seven years, reminiscing about all the happy memories he had formed.
As the coach lurched into motion, heading for the train station, he silently surveyed the dimming skyline of mountains.
He smiled, relishing the excitement bubbling inside his chest. Beyond the mountains, many miles ahead lay the promise of a new beginning. And he was excited to witness how the new chapter of his life would unfold.
***
Somewhere in The Dark Continent
The ear-piercing howl of a mutated beast split the air as a cloaked figure siphoned its very life energy. The beast thrashed for a few moments, foam dripping from its mouth, before it succumbed to death.
Carefully sealing the green energy within a special container, the cloaked figure rinsed his hands in the flowing black waters of a tainted river stream. The chill of the water almost matched the coldness of his heart, but he didn't feel anything. His heart didn't beat like a normal human's would.
A golden barrier stretched across the vast horizon in the distance. He regarded it clinically. I'm close. A few more years and I'll be done.
The crunch of twigs caught his attention, but the cloaked figure didn't turn around. He had already detected the presence of the three figures - no, they were mere projections. Two Delta variants and one Alpha variant.
Huh, he is still after me after all these years? Oh well, I suppose I can't blame him after what I did to him. The cloaked figure allowed himself a smirk, slowly turning to look at the intruders.
"Smile all you want, Zero," said the Alpha, its mechanical voice filled with conviction. "But your doom is near. Very soon, you will suffer the repercussions of your actions and your plan will fail."
The cloaked figure unleashed a chilling cackle, the sound of a dying human sustained by the miracle of advanced technology.
"What makes you think I fear the Sigma, when I haven't hesitated to make an enemy of the system?" He carefully observed the three figures who wore the mask of triumph. It made him irritated. Useless lap dogs. "Tell your master to come face me himself."
"Oh, we aren't speaking of our master," said the Alpha. "Your justice will be delivered by a cultivator - an ally of the system. You were wrong to make an enemy out of the system."
It can't be. Did somebody actually conquer the Tutorial Trial completely? For a moment, the cloaked figure remained silent, mentally processing the message. However, the momentary surprise failed to unnerve him.
So be it. My trump card is almost ready. His cloak flashed a radiant blend of rainbow hues as he raised his arms, unleashing an energy wave at the projections.
The surrounding terrain exploded into a shower of earth and debris, swallowing the three projections. He flicked his arms as countless runes danced across them - a blasphemous reconstruction of rotting flesh and metal alloy. I will deal with whoever gets in my way.