About eighteen kilometers from the raging battle, deep in a quiet grove where mist clung lazily to mossy rocks, an old man moved with unhurried grace.His simple brown tunic was patched at the seams, and at his waist hung a gourd of wine that sloshed softly whenever he bent to pluck herbs.His hands, calloused but steady, moved with the patience of someone who had spent centuries in rhythm with the earth.His eyes, however—bright and brimming with vitality—betrayed a sharpness that no ordinary villager could possess.He had been kneeling by a patch of flowering herbs, humming faintly to himself, when the heavens tore open with a KRROOOOM that shook the mountains.The thunder rolled so violently that even the earth quivered beneath his sandals.Yet the old man only sighed, stood, and turned his gaze to the distant horizon where flickers of dark azure lightning still crackled like scars in the night sky.His eyes narrowed—not with fear, but with knowing.It was as if he had seen storms

The air between them thickened, the lively melody of the zither in the background softening into something faint and almost distant as Oasis noticed the shift in Amilia’s demeanor.A faint tremor danced across her shoulders.“Are you okay?” Oasis asked suddenly.His voice cut through the air like a blade, calm but sharp enough that it made her spine stiffen.A chill slid down her back, and her hands fidgeted harder beneath the table, tapping finger against finger as though her own body betrayed her unease.“I… I… I… can… help you,” Amilia forced out.The words were strangled, trembling on her tongue.Her lips quivered, her pale skin flushing more crimson as her throat tightened.It felt as though even speaking the offer demanded all her will, like tearing open a guarded door inside her heart.!!!Oasis’s eyes widened faintly, his body tensing instinctively at her declaration.The weight of her words struck him like a silent blow, but just as swiftly as his composure threatened to crac

Around the same morning in the Kingdom of Nirvana – Rivershade TownThe sun had only just climbed above the jagged rooftops of Rivershade, painting the cobblestone streets in pale gold, when the creak of wooden shutters and the distant bray of horses signaled the town’s awakening.Inside one of the more reputable inns near the southern gate, the air carried the mingled scents of roasted barley bread, fresh onions, and ale that had been poured one too many times the night before.Two young men busied themselves within the main hall of the Golden Basin Inn.One, broad-shouldered and chubby with tightly locked dreadlocks that were tied neatly back, stood with a ledger clutched to his chest.His fine, clean tunic—dyed deep green with golden embroidery on the collar—marked him not as a servant but as someone who now had authority.This was Alon, his round face creased in concentration as he flipped through the pages and murmured numbers under his breath.The other was lean, tall, and sharp

Vesta, in her eagle form, soared high into the endless sky, her colossal wings slicing through the night winds with effortless grace.Each beat of her feathers stirred the air into rolling currents, carrying them ever eastward.The moon’s silver glow bathed her form in light, reflecting off her gleaming cyan plumage like polished metal under a divine forge.Far below, the lands passed in a blur of shadow and pale light—mountains, rivers, and valleys reduced to faint outlines beneath the vast heavens.Atop her broad back, three figures rode.Oasis sat in lotus position, his body steady as stone, his breathing deep and measured. His eyes were closed, but around him faint ripples of mist and fiery wind stirred, pulled unconsciously by his cultivation.He seemed untouched by the rushing speed, unmoved by the dizzying height—serene, as though suspended in meditation between heaven and earth.Behind him, Venak lay sprawled casually on his back, arms folded behind his head, legs crossed.His

Two Weeks LaterMeridian King PeakThe Meridian King Peak loomed vast and jagged, a natural fortress of steep cliffs and ridges that pierced the horizon like serrated blades.Though the name bore grandeur, the peak’s reputation was steeped in infamy.This was the stronghold of the Mad Vermins Bandits—a syndicate of cutthroats, deserters, and outlaws who had once belonged to prestigious sects, clans, and families across Aetheria.Each had spilled blood or committed crimes so grievous they could never return home.And yet, instead of being a den of chaos, Meridian King Peak was unnervingly structured.Towns and waystations wound along the valley paths, guarded checkpoints ensured order, and strange banners of crimson and black fluttered along the mountain passes.It served not only as a sanctuary for criminals but also as a pass-through hub for travelers, caravans, and merchants—those reckless or trusting enough to believe in their own strenght or are strong willed.About hundreds of ki