Aetherion’s groan was still echoing through the rafters of the Silver Moon Pavilion when a firm, calloused hand gripped his elbow. The Sword-Saint didn't just walk; she moved with the inevitable momentum of a landslide, and currently, Aetherion was caught in the path of destruction.
“Move,” Zinnia commanded, her voice regaining its icy edge, though her cheeks still held a faint, betraying pink. “The carriage is waiting. We’re leaving before the Imperial Envoys start asking for a blood sample or a genealogy report.”
“The ribs, Zinnia! Think of the ribs!” Aetherion pleaded, casting a longing glance back at the buffet. “They’re sitting there, cold and unloved. It’s a tragedy.”
“You’ve eaten enough for three men and a small horse,” she snapped, practically lifting him off the ground as she marched him toward the exit. “You’re coming with me to the Everdawn Estate. We have… things to discuss. Mostly involving why you’re pretending to be a beggar when you can shatter jade pillars with your nose.”
“It was an allergy! A very legitimate medical condition!”
Outside, a carriage carved from white spirit-wood and pulled by four horses with hooves made of actual fire waited. Aetherion poked one of the horses with a cautious finger.
“Does this thing have a heater?” he asked. “My cave was drafty, but at least it didn't smell like burnt hair.”
“Get in,” Zinnia said, shoving him into the plush, silk-lined interior. She climbed in after him, slamming the door so hard the spirit-wood groaned.
As the carriage lurched into the air, soaring above the Thousand-Cloud Peaks, Aetherion sank into the cushions, which were softer than anything he’d felt in three centuries.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “About this ‘betrothal’ thing. We can just tell everyone it was a prank, right? A social experiment? ‘Local Saint Gets Pranked by Cave-Dweller’—it’ll be a hit.”
Zinnia stared at him, her silver eyes Narrowing. “A prank? Aetherion, you handed me a Soul-Binding Lily in front of the most powerful people in the Empire. If I back out now, my sect’s reputation is ruined. My family’s honor is shredded. And you? You’ll be hunted down by every suitor I’ve ever rejected. And trust me, there are thousands of them, and most are better at aiming than Marius.”
“Thousands?” Aetherion whistled. “You’re a high-maintenance investment, aren't you? Look, lady, I just want to nap. I’ve been sleeping for a long time, and I’m still not quite caught up.”
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Truly. No commoner has that kind of internal pressure. You didn't even use a technique. You just… existed at him.”
“I’m just Aetherion,” he lied, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I like oatmeal, long walks to the bathroom, and not being stabbed. That’s my whole deal.”
“We’ll see what my brother thinks about your ‘deal,’” Zinnia muttered, looking out the window. “He’s been the head of the Everdawn House since our parents passed. He’s… protective.”
“Protective? Great. I love meeting brothers who want to kill me,” Aetherion sighed. “Is there a snack bar in this carriage?”
*
The Everdawn Estate was less of a house and more of a small, fortified city perched on a floating island. Waterfalls of liquid light cascaded from the edges, and the air was so thick with spiritual energy it felt like breathing warm honey.
When the carriage touched down, a man was already waiting on the marble landing. He was tall, dressed in sharp black-and-crimson robes, with a face that looked like it had been carved from a very grumpy diamond.
“Zinnia,” the man said, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me the messengers were lying. Tell me you didn't actually accept a flower from a man who looks like he’s been living in a dumpster.”
“Cassian,” Zinnia said, stepping out of the carriage. “It’s… complicated.”
Aetherion hopped out after her, stumbling slightly on the smooth stone. He looked at Cassian, then at the massive, intimidating spear the man was leaning on.
“Nice place you got here,” Aetherion said, offering a weak wave. “Love the floating rocks. Very ‘I have too much money and don’t know how to spend it.’ Is that a fountain made of wine? Classy.”
Cassian didn't respond. He simply stared at Aetherion, his eyes glowing with a faint, crimson light. Aetherion felt a wave of spiritual pressure wash over him—a deliberate, probing scan designed to crush the spirit of anyone weaker than the user.
Aetherion sighed internally. Here we go. He practiced a very specific technique he’d mastered centuries ago: The Art of Being Extremely Unimpressive. He pulled his aura inward, burying his primordial essence under layers of ‘mediocre peasant’ energy.
Cassian’s frown deepened. He increased the pressure. Aetherion just scratched his stomach and yawned.
“I don’t feel anything,” Cassian said, his voice dripping with disbelief. “Zinnia, this man has no ki. None. His meridians are as dry as a desert. He’s a literal nobody. A commoner. A zero.”
“He defeated Marius Celestine, Cassian,” Zinnia said firmly.
“Marius is a peacock who trips over his own feet!” Cassian stepped forward, looming over Aetherion. “Listen to me, you little leech. I don’t know how you tricked my sister. Maybe you found that Lily in an old ruin and thought it was a lottery ticket. But the Everdawn family doesn't marry into the mud.”
“I’m more of a ‘loam’ guy myself,” Aetherion said, unfazed. “And honestly, I’m with you, Big Bro. This whole marriage thing? Terrible idea. Why don’t you just give me a bag of gold, a nice ham, and I’ll disappear? Everyone wins.”
Cassian’s eyes flickered with surprise, then narrowed again. “A gold-digger. I knew it. You have no shame at all, do you?”
“Shame is heavy. I like to travel light,” Aetherion replied.
“Cassian, enough,” Zinnia stepped between them. “The vow was made. The High Elder witnessed it. If we kick him out now, we’re the ones who look like oath-breakers.”
Cassian gripped his spear so hard the wood creaked. “Fine. If the law says he must be tested, then he will be tested. But I won't have a coward in the family.”
He turned his gaze back to Aetherion, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
“There’s a tradition in our house,” Cassian said. “Before a consort is accepted, he must show he can provide for the table. We’re having a small hunting competition this evening in the spirit-woods. You, me, and a few of the sect disciples.”
“Hunting? Like… with running?” Aetherion looked horrified. “Can’t we just play cards? Or a nice game of ‘Who Can Stay Still the Longest’?”
“If you win, I’ll consider letting you sleep in the guest house instead of the stables,” Cassian said. “If you lose… well, accidents happen in the woods. Beasts are very hungry this time of year.”
“Cassian, that’s not fair,” Zinnia protested. “He doesn't even have a weapon!”
“He can use his nose,” Cassian mocked, turning away. “Be at the forest gate in an hour, ‘Sect Leader.’ Try not to die on the way there.”
Aetherion watched him walk away, then looked at Zinnia. “He seems nice. Very stable. Definitely doesn't have a hidden basement full of people he’s disagreed with.”
“He’s going to kill you, Aetherion,” Zinnia said, her voice full of genuine concern. “The spirit-woods are full of Grade-4 Shadow-Wolves and Razor-Boars. Even I have to be careful in there.”
“Don't worry about it,” Aetherion said, stretching his arms. “I’m a great hunter. Back in my day, I was known as the ‘Bane of the Squirrels.’ They feared my name.”
“You’re going to die for a ham, aren't you?”
“It was a very good-looking ham, Zinnia.”
*
The spirit-woods were a nightmare of glowing blue moss and trees that seemed to move when you weren't looking. Cassian and a group of elite disciples were already deep in the brush, the sounds of their bows and spirit-arts echoing through the trees.
Aetherion, meanwhile, was sitting on a stump near a small creek, tossing pebbles into the water.
“Let’s see,” he muttered to himself. “Cassian wants a show. If I catch a rabbit, he’ll call me a weakling. If I catch nothing, he’ll kick me out. If I catch a wolf, he’ll think I’m a threat. I just need something small, easy, and impressive-looking. A ‘Spark-Bunny’ maybe? Yeah, those are cute and glowy.”
He closed his eyes, extending a tiny, microscopic thread of his actual power into the surrounding forest. He didn't want to hunt; he just wanted to whistle. He sent out a gentle, beckoning vibration through the ground—a call that, in his mind, translated to ‘Hey, small, tasty animal, come here for a second so I can pretend I caught you.’
But Aetherion had been asleep for a long time. His ‘microscopic’ thread of power was, by modern standards, a tidal wave of primordial authority.
The forest went silent. The birds stopped chirping. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Cassian shout in confusion.
“Wait, where is it going?” a disciple yelled. “The Alpha-Wolf! It’s running away!”
Aetherion frowned. “Must have pushed too hard. Let’s dial it back. Just a little… nudge.”
He flicked his wrist, sending a pulse of essence toward a nearby bush.
The ground began to shake. Not a little tremor, but a deep, rhythmic thumping that felt like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. The trees parted as if pushed by an invisible hand.
Aetherion blinked as a shadow fell over him. A very large, very gold, very terrifying shadow.
Out of the brush stepped a creature the size of a house. It looked like a cross between a lion and a dragon, covered in scales that burned with white fire. It had six eyes, three tails, and a crown of antlers made of pure diamond.
It was a Solar-Emperor Chimera—a beast that hadn't been seen in the mortal realm for three thousand years. Legend said that its appearance heralded the birth of an empire or the end of an era.
The massive beast looked at Aetherion. Then, slowly, it lowered its terrifying head and let out a soft, whimpering sound, wagging its three tails like an overexcited puppy. It dropped a massive, uprooted ancient tree—one laden with golden, glowing fruit—at Aetherion’s feet.
Aetherion stared at the legendary beast, then at the golden fruit, then at the sound of crashing brush as Cassian and Zinnia burst into the clearing.
Cassian froze, his spear dropping from his nerveless fingers. His face went from arrogant to pale-white in a fraction of a second.
“Is that…” Cassian stammered, his voice cracking. “Is that a… a Solar-Emperor?”
Aetherion looked at the monster, which was currently trying to lick his face with a tongue the size of a surfboard.
“Uh,” Aetherion said, wiping chimera-drool off his shoulder. “It’s a… big rabbit? A really, really big rabbit?”
Zinnia just stared at him, her sword halfway out of its scabbard. “Aetherion… what did you do?”
“I just wanted a snack,” Aetherion whispered, as the Chimera nudged him playfully, accidentally knocking over a nearby cliffside. “I really, really should have stayed in the cave.”
Latest Chapter
Chapter 71: The Wind-Gap Pass
"Hold the brake bar steady, Alistair, or the back wheels will slide right over the edge before we even clear the turn," Zinnia shouted over the howling shriek of the mountain gale, her knuckles stark white as she threw her full weight against the leading horse's bridle. The beast snorted, its breath pluming white into the freezing air as its iron-shod hooves slipped against the polished sheet of slate that paved the narrow ledge."I am holding it!" Alistair yelled back, his voice cracking with panic as he hauled back on the rusted iron lever with both hands, his wire-rimmed spectacles instantly fogging over from the biting wind. "My feet have no purchase on this cursed frozen rock! If the carriage shifts another inch toward the abyss, you won't need to worry about my administrative incompetence anymore, because we'll be decorating the valley floor three thousand feet below!""Stop panicking and lean your weight into the frame!"
Chapter 70: The Morning After the Storm
"The chassis is holding, but if we hit another limestone shelf like that last one, the entire axle is going to snap like a dried willow switch," Zinnia said, her voice sharp and devoid of any lingering sleepiness as she kicked the heavy iron-shod wheel of the wagon.A sharp, metallic clink rang out across the silent mountain plateau, echoing off the towering white limestone cliffs that soared into the pale, cloudless dawn sky. The storm had passed as abruptly as it had arrived, leaving behind a world encased in a blinding blanket of ice-dusted hail that crunched like broken glass beneath Zinnia's heavy boots. Every surface of the plateau gleamed with an unearthly, crystalline brilliance, reflecting the harsh morning light straight up into their tired eyes.Alistair groaned, struggling out from beneath a pile of damp wool blankets inside the wagon box and rubbing his aching neck with both hands. "Must you inspect the structural
Chapter 69: The Engineer's Ledger
"Put the candle down, Alistair, before you drop hot tallow onto the only clean section of the regional land charters," Zinnia snapped, stepping briskly out of the drafty shadow of the limestone pillar and wiping her soot-stained hands on her heavy canvas trousers. "We need those documents legible if we’re going to convince a judge in Oakhaven that the magistrate’s entire property seizure was forged under an invalid emergency statute.""I am holding it perfectly steady," Alistair insisted, his voice trembling slightly as the tallow flame flickered in the whistling draft that swept through the cavernous mouth of the abandoned quarry. He squinted through his wire-rimmed spectacles at the crumbling parchment spread across an upturned crate of salted pork. "More or less steady. But look at this clause here—paragraph four of the secondary charter. It isn't just a routine tax lien. It’s an explicit assignment of feudal title, signe
Chapter 68: Cracks in the Ledger
"Move the crate, Aetherion, or we'll be trapped in the dark by our own supplies," Zinnia said, her voice cutting sharply through the echoing chill of the quarry gallery as she shoved a heavy box of iron spikes out of the way with her boot."I am moving it as fast as physics and my nonexistent enthusiasm for manual labor allow," Aetherion drawled, though he heaved the heavy timber container aside with a sharp grunt, kicking up a cloud of ancient white dust that sparkled eerily in the flickering amber glow of their single tallow candle. "Honestly, Zinnia, you treat this abandoned excavation like a forward operating base instead of a temporary hole in the wall to wait out a mountain hailstorm.""Because every abandoned hole in this godforsaken province either has wolves, bandits, or tax collectors squatting in it," Zinnia retorted, not looking up as she checked the tension of the canvas lashings over the wagon. "And right now, I'd
Chapter 67: The Quarrymen’s Shelter
"If the horses don't blow out their lungs on this incline, the approaching hailstorm certainly will," Zinnia muttered, her boots slipping on the slick, white-scoured shale as she strained against the lead mare's harness. "Alistair, drop the extra baggage out the back or we’re going backward.""Drop my ancestral land deeds and municipal charters into the mud? Absolutely not!" Alistair yelled from inside the bouncing wagon, clutching a leather-bound folio to his chest like a shield. "We are already soaked through to the skin, Zinnia. A few chunks of limestone aren't going to make us any wetter!""They will if the wagon flips over backward and crushes you!" Aetherion shouted over the sudden, violent howling of the wind, his long legs dangling off the rear tailgate as he desperately wedged a spare brake-block beneath the screaming iron wheels. "Zinnia, look up! The old quarry cut! Fifty yards!"The jagged
Chapter 66: The Limestone Climb
"The limestone track begins fifty paces past the old irrigation ditch," Aetherion murmured, his lazy drawl completely at odds with the dangerous urgency humming through his posture as he peered over the side of the creeping carriage. "And if we don't turn right this exact second, the High-Bridge garrison patrol currently chatting up the ferry master behind us is going to spot our fresh tracks and realize we didn't drown in the rice paddies.""I see the track," Zinnia bit out, her jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in her cheek as she hauled back on the left rein with all the strength in her upper body. "Alistair, keep your head down and stop rustling those wretched maps before I pitch them out the window into the mud.""These maps represent the entire legal framework of our defense, Zinnia!" Alistair protested, ducking his head hastily as a low-hanging thorn branch scraped violently across the wagon’s newly patched can
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