[The Whispering Woods – Night]
The crackle of a small campfire was the only sound in the dense, dark forest. Techyon sat on a fallen log, skillfully setting up his temporary camp. Even though he could cross this distance in seconds, he chose to move with caution.
"If I use my full speed and rush directly to Netland," Techyon muttered, poking the embers with a stick, "the mana signature would be like a flare in the night. Every high-rank enemy between here and the border would see me coming. I need to save my energy for whatever is waiting in those mountains."
He swiped his hand through the air, summoning his Status Window. Instead of checking his stats, he navigated to the global news feed.
A holographic video began to play. It was shaky footage from the Galactic Elite battle six months ago. The screen was filled with blinding white radiance and crackling blue arcs of energy.
Global News Anchor: "...and so the mystery remains. The being made of pure white light, covered in a divine blue aura, who saved us from Gudmaro's 'Perfection,' has vanished completely. No one knows his name. No one knows where he went. Some are calling him the 'Sovereign of Light,' while others fear he was merely a precursor to an even greater threat. Six months later, the world is still asking: Where is our savior?"
Techyon stared at the screen, a drop of cold sweat running down his neck. He realized for the first time the scale of what he had done.
"Damn it," he whispered, quickly closing the window. "While I was fighting that monster, I absolutely forgot the entire battle was being broadcasted to the whole world. I'm not just a traveler... I'm a wanted man."
The news anchor's voice took on a more somber, respectful tone. The holographic screen displayed an ancient, weathered statue of a warrior that looked strikingly similar to Techyon, though more rugged.
Global News Anchor: "But the headline tonight isn't just about the mystery. A theory is spreading across the continents like wildfire. Scholars and veterans of the Old World are saying this boy isn't just a hero—he is our Arcon of Hope returned. The legendary figure who vanished after the second Great War. Others believe he is a direct descendant, a blood-heir to the Arcon's celestial power."
Techyon froze, his hand hovering over the campfire. He looked at his own reflection in the glowing blue aura of his palms. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face—not a smile of arrogance, but one of deep, soulful pride.
"The Arcon of Hope..." Techyon whispered to the trees.
For the first time in a long time, the weight of his journey felt lighter. The loneliness he felt at his birthday party was replaced by a sense of destiny.
They're comparing me with him, Techyon thought, his heart swelling. They're comparing me with my father. I'm not just a kid from the slums anymore. I am the continuation of his light.
He stood up, the cyan fabric of his Hydro Refresh gear fluttering in the wind. The pride didn't make him reckless; it made him more determined. If he was the son of the Arcon, then Netland wouldn't just be a destination—it would be the place where he proved the world was right.
[The Northern Front – Netland Battleground]
While the rest of the world debated the return of the Arcon, the air in Netland was thick with the scent of ozone and scorched earth. Here, the snow didn't just melt—it evaporated.
In the center of a massive, cratered arena, Cynthia sat upon a throne carved from obsidian and jagged ice. Her eyes, sharp and glowing with an intense inner heat, scanned the horizon. She looked nothing like the girl Techyon remembered; she looked like a sovereign who had conquered the cold.
A citizen, trembling under the sheer pressure of her mana, knelt at the foot of the throne. "Goddess of Flame... a challenger has arrived at the gates. He wishes to challenge you for the Z+ Adventure Rank."
Z+. The rank that sat at the very peak of human capability.
Cynthia stood up slowly. As she rose, the frost on the ground for ten meters in every direction instantly turned to steam. Her crimson hair fluttered in the freezing wind, but she didn't seem to feel the cold at all.
"Z+ Rank?" she whispered, a small, confident smirk crossing her lips. "Let him come. I've been looking for a reason to let these flames go wild."