Sora caught wind of the crown prince's assassination attempt the next day. The royalists' sliver of territory made secrecy impossible, and Gelfin deliberately leaked rumors to flush him out.
Assassin's accomplice in custody? That had to be Varut as the killer—did they lock up Louise too? Gelfin, after the heads-up he'd given.
After mulling it over, Sora decided to face Gelfin head-on. "Jack, thanks for the hospitality these past couple days. Time for me to hit the road." He bid the villager farewell.
"Huh? No steady place yet—stick around longer," Jack urged.
"No can do. Here's a little gratitude—next time, you're hosting." Sora dropped a hefty pouch of gold coins, grabbed his sword, and strode off.
Jack saw him to the village edge, then peeked inside the purse at home: nearly a hundred gold pieces, enough for two solid years of comfort.
Sora made no effort to hide, strolling openly into the manor's range. The eagle familiar spotted him first; Gelfin got word and stationed himself at the gate to await his arrival.
"Meet again, old timer. Louise doing alright?" Sora asked straight.
"That girl? Treated her decent enough—for now. But without a solid explanation, who knows." Gelfin replied coolly.
"I'm no foe. Last night's warning proved that," Sora said. "Let me see Louise first."
"Fine." Gelfin fell in step beside him, personally escorting Sora to the cellar holding cell.
"Louise!!" Sora dashed to the bars and called to the girl huddled in the corner, knees to chest.
"That voice? Sora—is it you?" Louise looked up, scrambled off the bed, thrust her hands through the railing, and cupped his cheek. "It's real—you're here, Sora."
"I—I knew it, I believed you'd make it," Louise wept, joy and shock mixing.
"Yeah. Not dying on me." "Missed you fierce, Louise. Hang tight—it'll sort soon."
Sora pulled back and faced Gelfin. "Questions? Fire away."
Gelfin glanced between them.
"First: yesterday's assassin—orders from Tolistine?"
"No."
"Second: who sent him?"
"Restoration Alliance. Rebel boss Kolomwe and Varut both belong."
"What! Varut..." Louise gasped, hand to mouth.
"Kolomwe." Gelfin paused, surprised. "Restoration Alliance? Back then, just nobles and merchants pushing to rally nations against goblins, reclaim the Holy Land. Didn't see that coming."
"Sounds plausible, sure. But prove your words hold water—a kid surviving wind elves?" Gelfin surged his full magic power, an oppressive wave crashing over Sora and Louise.
"You're asking now? Means you half-believe—yesterday you swung without a word." Sora smirked faintly, then nodded. "Got proof? Run an aptitude test on me."
"Aptitude test?" Gelfin blinked, thrown—how'd that tie in?
"Sora?" Louise frowned, confused.
"It's fine—trust me." Sora gave her a soft smile.
"Alright, don't fight my magic." Gelfin nodded, extended his left hand toward Sora. "Bilu Imoke Alphonse." [Aptitude Test]
A light beam lanced out, bathing Sora; he stood steady, accepting it.
Mirroring the ray, brilliance erupted from Sora's body.
Fiery red, liberated cyan, soothing blue intertwined, turning the dungeon dreamlike. The cyan and blue shone purest, blinding—peak aptitude, genius rare once in centuries, even millennia!
Gelfin, wind great mage rooted in Albion, sensed deeper. That blue hue, that wind aura—yes, wind spirit baptism!! No one but the founder had ever earned it.
"You... met the wind spirits?" Gelfin stammered, disbelieving.
"What'd I tell you? Convinced now?" Sora shrugged off the light casually, shattering the [Aptitude Test]; rays winked out.
"If wind elves favor you, your words ring true." Gelfin raised his staff-bearing right hand. A palm-wide wind blade sliced past Sora, shearing the cell lock clean.
"Sora!!" Louise shoved the door wide, flung herself into his arms, buried her face in his chest, soaking in his warmth, embrace, very being.
Sora rested his chin atop her head, nuzzling fondly.
Gelfin eyed Sora, expression tangled. Stuck at square-rank's 5000 magic points, he'd kill for wind-elf baptism. Only top-tier aptitude hit [five-star]!!!
[Five-star]—mundanes knew zilch, but square-rank great mages past 6000 points felt the path ahead; mortal frames couldn't bear more. Four royal houses' 6000-year annals noted: besides founder—the void-wielding strongest, elf-baptized 400 years back—seven more, all highest natural aptitude, reached [five-star]. One versus a nation, invincible in their eras. Latest: Tolistine's water-elf baptism 200 years ago, commoner to national teacher, spawning an earl line.
Phew, pipe dream. Wind elves shunned his cloud-touching form. Old bones done. But if this kid claimed this era's [five-star], even razed Albion? With Verus alive and [five-star] aid, restoration no joke.
Eyes gleaming, Gelfin decided, spurred by Sora's potential. He flashed a kindly smile at the couple lost in reunion: "You two, out first. Verus awaits."
Sora and Louise parted, shared a look, nodded.
Gelfin guided them to Verus's room.
Verus lay bandaged but striking: golden hair shining, gentle smile intact. Sora bristled, imagining Anrietta's feelings for him.
Louise stayed neutral.
"Prince Verus, you okay?"
"Fine—just some bruising and swelling. Rest a couple days." Verus smiled. "Louise, Anrietta's closest friend—I need you to pass a message. Alone?"
The other three glanced at Sora.
Sora and Gelfin stepped out, waiting next door.
Whatever Verus told her, Gelfin stunned Sora on return. The revered power bowed low: "Wind-spirit favored youth, I beg a favor."