NOVEL NEXT Chapter 46: Graham...
Ethan didn't answer.
A beat passed.
Then Darius sighed, a rare frown forming on his lips. But it was fleeting. He gave a slow nod, masking the concern in his eyes with a smile.
"Anything for you, brother. I'll talk to him. Expect my word soon."
Ethan nodded once.
It had begun.
The first step toward severance.
After his brief talk with Darius, Ethan decided it was time to leave.
'Celebrate with classmates?'
He scoffed inwardly.
Awakening a talent was no big deal—neither hurdle nor achievement in his eyes. It was merely the starting line. Yet around him, they celebrated as if they had conquered the world.
It reminded him too much of Earth.
Back then, people would throw parties at the smallest success — getting lost in cheers, drinks, and empty praises. They'd drown in the momentary pleasures of life, forgetting the long road ahead.
Some were even more pathetic: living without aim, drifting with the current like dead leaves on a river. No goal, no purpose — just existing until the world chewed them up and spat them out.
Ethan hated those kinds of people the most.
Being an orphan back on Earth had taught him many things — hard truths etched into his bones.
One of them: only those with a clear goal, and the iron will to pursue it through every hardship, would be able to reach anywhere in life.
It didn't matter if the goal was as grand as reaching the heavens or as small as surviving another day.
Whether it was fixed or changed with time, it was that striving — that refusal to stagnate — that separated the living from the dead.
'The moment you grow complacent… you're already falling behind.'
He knew this deep in his soul.
Dreams were like flames — bright, hungry, and fragile.
Let them burn too small, they'd wither and die.
Let them burn too wild, they'd consume you.
But tend to them carefully, with patience and persistence, and they would light the path forward.
Ethan's eyes swept over the crowds of cheering students.
Laughter, hugs, and loud boasts filled the air.
They were already losing themselves in the moment—blinded by small victories.
'Fools.'
Most of them didn't even know why they fought, why they trained. They chased after strength because everyone else did. They sought fame because it made them feel alive. But in the end, they were just dogs chasing their own tails—running in circles until they collapsed.
He had seen it before.
Back on Earth, in the slums where people dreamed big but died small.
And here, in this world, it was no different.
'Strength without purpose is empty. Talent without discipline is wasted. And victory without vision is nothing but noise.'
With a faint shake of his head, Ethan turned away.
His path wasn't here, among those lost in celebration.
His real journey was just beginning.
'It's time to call Graham,' Ethan thought as he pulled out his mana-stone powered cellphone.
While he could easily make the trip to the other Labyrinth alone, lately... Graham had been strangely fun to have around. The man's steady presence and subtle humor made things a little less dull.
He tapped the call rune and held the device to his ear, ignoring the growing noise behind him as he walked through the academy hall.
He didn't leave unnoticed.
Some of his classmates called out, stepping forward with hopeful faces. Disappointment flickered in their eyes when they realized where he was headed.
To them, the party would've been far more exciting if the Son of Gareth joined in. His presence would've elevated their gathering into something prestigious.
"Ethan, come on, just for a bit—" one urged with a forced grin.
Another tried to grab his arm lightly. "Yeah, it won't be the same without you—"
Ethan refused them as politely as he could.
A small smile, a slight shake of the head. "Not today. Got something I need to handle."
His words were calm, but inside, he was already growing annoyed.
But to their credit, they were smart enough not to push.
Everyone here knew—it wouldn't bode well for them if they crossed lines with him.
Selene? She had already disappeared, off to God-knows-where.
Ethan couldn't even bring himself to be slightly bothered about it.
The call connected.
["Young Master,"] came Graham's deep, steady voice. ["Your call is my command. Shall I come pick you up?"]
"Yeah," Ethan said, stepping through the academy gates. "I'm heading to the usual place. Be quick."
["Understood. I'll be there in a minute."]
Although Graham said a minute, Ethan had barely walked a few steps down the street when he spotted the familiar sleek hovercar weaving through traffic, gliding above the stone roads like a shadow.
The vehicle came to a smooth, silent stop right in front of him. The glass door slid down with a soft hiss, revealing Graham at the wheel.
"Please, Young Master," Graham said with utmost respect, inclining his head slightly.
He was tall and well-built, dressed in his usual dark gray uniform, gold embroidery tracing elegant patterns along his sleeves. On his left shoulder, the proud insignia of the Drakethorne family gleamed faintly under the evening light. His jet-black hair was styled neatly, not a strand out of place, and his sharp features were coolly professional.
Yet, in his dark eyes, there was a familiar warmth. A closeness he reserved only for Ethan.
Normally, Graham would've stepped out and opened the door on the other side. But Ethan had already stopped him from doing that a while back. Told him it was weird to do that for a fellow man.
Graham had laughed, a low, rumbling sound.
But he obeyed, as always.
Ethan stepped in without ceremony, the door sliding shut behind him. The hovercar eased back into motion, gliding forward with hardly a sound.
There was a moment of comfortable silence before Graham spoke again, a smile in his voice.
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A/N:
Guys am sick. It took me all my strength to write this chapter... Don't worry though, with some drugs the next chapter will be released tomorrow.