They didn't speak much on the way.
Rana simmered. Jalen walked in silence, quietly observing every tree, path, and breeze as if mapping the continent from memory.
Eventually, cliffs of red stone rose from the earth, and the city came into view.
EmberFall— the beating heart of the Ember State, and the second most influential territory on the continent of Rouna. The city rose in majestic tiers, carved from crimson stone and bathed in a golden haze that shimmered like heat-born light. Fire-veined banners danced in the summer wind, each emblazoned with the sigil of the Ember Sect—a phoenix wreathed in flame, eternal and unyielding.
They drew attention the moment they entered the upper rings. Naturally.
Rana Flare—the Flare family's princess, the Ember Sect's top female cultivator, and widely hailed as the number one beauty of Ember Fall—was known. Admired. Envied. She was used to glances, whispers, and bows.
What she wasn't used to was someone walking beside her who didn't fawn, follow, or flinch.
Jalen strolled as if the city belonged to him. Calm. Curious. Quiet.
Some admirers greeted her with polished grace. Others tried to insert themselves between her and the strange boy. A few glared outright.
None succeeded.
Rana ignored them. But she noticed how some stared at Jalen—not with recognition, but with questions. Who was he to walk beside her like that? Like he belonged?
Some scoffed at his backwater clothes and plain robes, assuming he was a servant of the Flare family.
By the time they reached the Grand Archives, Rana had already begun to wonder what this boy was after. Schematics? Alchemical treatises? Beast-companion scrolls?
Instead, he said, "You can go now."
"What?" She blinked. "That's it?"
He nodded. "Thanks for the escort." Then he turned and walked away.
She stood there, furious—unsure whether to leave or follow.
Inside, Jalen didn't browse. He swept—spirit sense flickering over tomes like invisible fire. Knowledge was absorbed faster than most could blink.
But it was useless.
Not in an absolute sense—each record held value—but none touched the truths he sought. Nothing beyond Enlightenment. Nothing that reached the horizons that haunted his dreams.
Eventually, he approached the central desk.
"I'm looking for materials on realms beyond Enlightenment," he said. "Theoretical fragments. Speculative tomes. Anything."
The old librarian snorted. "Boy, what would someone still sucking on his mother's marrow broth want with texts reserved for peak masters?" His eyes flicked to Jalen's belt—no sect sigil.
Jalen said nothing. A flick of will could end this exchange—but attention was a liability. He was about to leave and check somewhere else when
"He's with me."
Rana's voice was calm but immovable. She didn't need her crest. Her presence was enough.
"Give him what he wants."
The librarian stiffened. "Of course, Lady Rana. Right away."
Soon, a sealed codex and brittle scrolls arrived—texts even elder sect leaders handled with reverence. Jalen accepted them with a quiet nod.
"Thank you," he said to Rana. It seemed his earlier assessment of her was right. She was a spoiled princess.
She tilted her head slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity—but said nothing as he disappeared into the shadows of the reading alcove.
She followed.
He didn't invite her.
He didn't stop her.
But her presence tugged at the edge of his focus—like wind brushing parchment. Regardless, he said nothing.
And read.
There it was. Buried in fragments and half-legends, between cracked diagrams and sun-faded ink:
Three realms beyond Enlightenment.
The Star Realm—Astral Step, Cosmic Pulse, Nebula Throne. The Moon Realm—Insight, Eclipse, Lunar Crown. The Imperial Realm—Sovereign Bone, Emperor's Will, Eternal Court.
There were no diagrams of cultivation pathways. No transition rites. Just fragments. Half-erased notes. Warnings. Myths. And yet… they rang with quiet truth.
Jalen absorbed every symbol and scrap. When the last scroll dimmed beneath his spirit sense, he rose without a sound and returned the texts to the stunned librarian.
Rana fell into step beside him again.
She didn't even understand why she was following him. It wasn't like he had a kind personality—he was rude and aloof. But he had saved her life. She was starting to believe that now. It made sense: she'd been injured and on the brink of death, and yet she woke up whole. No wounds. No pain. And her attackers were gone.
And if that was true, then she owed him.
And Rana Flare didn't like owing anyone—especially not someone like him.
But more than that… she couldn't shake the curiosity. Who was he, really?
He stopped. "Are you planning to follow me forever?"
She arched a brow. "You said you needed a guide."
"And I already told you—your service is no longer required."
The nerve. Especially after she helped him access texts even her father treated with reverence.
She smiled coolly. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"
"I planned to sleep in the forest."
"How about you come to the Flare family residence with me?" she said. "My parents would be honored to meet the man who saved their daughter."
Or very, very curious, she thought.
Jalen tilted his head. "I'm flattered. But no."
She didn't flinch. "Please. Call it gratitude."
He studied her. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp—calculating.
"Alright," he said at last. "Since you insist."
She wants answers, Jalen thought as they began to walk side by side. Maybe revenge.
Then he shrugged inwardly.
There's no point in overthinking it.
All would be revealed soon enough.