The air in the Silver Spire grew thin as Alhen and Lira prepared to strike.
"Combine!" Alhen shouted.
He lunged forward, his blade a silver streak of Essence, while Lira fired a compressed [Mana Bolt] to create a distraction. It was a perfectly timed pincer attack—one that would have brought down a high-ranking Guild beast.
Lord Alaric Solari didn't even draw his wooden sword. He moved with a grace that made the air seem to step out of his way. With two fingers, he deflected Alhen's blade and pivoted, letting Lira's bolt hiss harmlessly into the sea-stone wall.
"Too rigid," Alaric said, his voice calm. "You fight like a boy trying to prove he exists. You don't fight like a son of Caelum Eldervale."
The name hit Alhen harder than any physical blow. He stumbled, his silver Essence flickering and dying out instantly. He stared at Alaric, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"How..." Alhen's voice was barely a whisper. "How do you know my father's name? No one in the village called him that. He was just... Father."
Lira lowered her hands, the blue Mana sparks on her fingertips fading. She looked between Alhen and the Sword Master, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
Lord Alaric sighed, his amber eyes filled with a heavy, ancient sadness. He walked over to a stone pedestal and picked up a weathered leather scabbard. It was empty, but it bore the same silver-leaf engravings as the training sword Alhen's father had used back in the village.
"Caelum and I... we didn't just train together, Alhen. We were the Twin Wings of the Royal Aegis," Alaric said, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Before he chose the life of a 'nameless' villager, your father was the greatest Essence-wielder the Wilren Kingdom had ever seen. He was a hero. And he was an exile."
"Exile?" Alhen stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Why? Why would a hero hide in a library for ten years?"
Alaric turned back to him, his expression grim. "Because he saw what the Kingdom was becoming. He saw the 'Purple Shadow'—the same energy you fought in the peaks—creeping into the hearts of the nobles. He was ordered to use his Essence for a massacre, and he refused. He took his secrets, his skills, and his newborn son, and he vanished into the fog."
Alaric stepped closer, placing a warm hand on Alhen's shoulder. "He didn't just train you to survive, Alhen. He trained you to be the one thing the Kingdom couldn't control: a free man. But he knew the world would eventually come looking for his bloodline. That is why I sent my scouts. I had to know if the 'Wave' had truly returned."
Alhen looked down at his hands. For ten years, he had thought he was just a quiet boy with a dream of the ocean. Now, he realized he was a piece of a much larger, darker puzzle.
"Is he in danger?" Alhen asked, his voice shaking.
"As long as he stays in the village, he is a ghost," Alaric replied. "But you... you are no longer a ghost. You are a Silver-ranked traveler with a Valencrest noble and a Guardian Hound by your side. You are the loudest signal in the world."
Alaric picked up his wooden sword again, but this time, he didn't hold it like a gardener. He held it like a King.
"The Fourth Place on your journey isn't just a town, Alhen. It's the Ruins of the Aegis. If you want to know the truth of why your father fled, and if you want to protect him... you need to learn the technique he never finished teaching you."
Lira stepped up beside Alhen, her sapphire eyes glowing with determination. "Then teach us. Both of us."
Lord Alaric Solari smiled, a sharp, noble glint in his eyes. "Very well. But forget everything you think you know about power. We begin now."