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Seraphina kept guiding the horses deeper into the forest, their hooves muffled by layers of damp moss. She walked between them, one rope in each hand, her posture straight and alert.

Elijah kept a few paces ahead, posture loose, but you could tell he was ready to kill anything that made the mistake of approaching him.

And ?

I followed behind, close enough to react but far enough not to annoy anyone.

The forest was too quiet.

No birds.

Not even a slight sigh from anyone.

Just hooves dragging through damp soil.

But in the end, I wasn’t the one who broke the awkward silence and surprisingly, it was Seraphina.

Yes. Her.

The one who seed to have the most composure.

The last person I expected to speak first.

"Hey, Haldrin," she called out.

I was surprised she initiated conversation at all; she seed to tolerate my presence, not welco it. Perhaps even her hardened warrior nerves couldn’t withstand this damn silence.

But then again, why ?

Why pick to break the silence?

Of all people here, I’m the last one she’d call a friend.

If anything, we’re barely tolerating each other.

She must still be stewing over Elijah’s choice to drag us through the forest instead of taking the northern road patrolled by Valorian soldiers.

Conflicted. Annoyed. Maybe even pissed. And apparently, I was the easiest target for her thoughts to spill onto.

"I realized I never bothered to ask your na," she continued, not bothering to turn her head. Her tone was completely flat, devoid of curiosity or concern—more like she was ticking an administrative box than actually caring about who I was. "Don’t expect to rember it, but I suppose it’s marginally better than calling you nothing."

"It’s Leonhardt," I replied clearly. "Leonhardt Haldrin."

The na lingered on my tongue long after I said it.

Leonhardt.

It felt strange at first, like trying on clothes that didn’t belong to .

But the more I rolled it around in my head, the more it settled, sinking into with a quiet weight.

Leonhardt Haldrin.

There was sothing steady about it.

Solid.

Like a na I have carried throughout my lifeti.

It resonated sowhere deep in my chest, threading through the three souls inside until it felt less like a borrowed title and more like sothing carved into bone.

A na I could grow into.

.

.

Then, Seraphina gave a quick nod and looked up through the branches at a thin strip of sky, then back at the forest, as if she was processing sothing before trying to say it.

"This stretch of the border is guarded less because it’s strategically worthless," she began. "It’s pressed right between Valorian claid territory and the Spirit Vein Peak.

She then pointed at a mountain peak sticking out above the treeline.

"And right here... Minnelet Woods."

’Minnelet Woods is sure a good na for a place like this.’

"It’s infamous," she went on. "It’s not known for its bloody scenery, but for the creatures that call it ho. Few dare to venture in, and almost none dare to cross it on foot."

’But here we are doing exactly that,’ I thought.

She slowly adjusted her grip on her sword, her gaze serious, "The Woods are infested with every kind of lethal monster you can imagine."

"The worst of them is the formidable Gross Wyrm," she continued. "That gigantic serpent is renowned for its venom; it kills instantly, before you can even feel the sting. Every dic in the damn Empire has tried to get their greedy hands on its glands for decades, but it’s too damn dangerous. Unless you’re a high-tier mage, you don’t even think about facing a beast like that."

Gross Wyrm?

I read thirty Chapters and thought this world was palace politics and romance.

Pathetic.

But intriguing.

If it’s anything like the wyrms I read about in those old webnovels, then yeah... it would be a worthy opponent to test it on.

My [Gravity Domain.]

Inertial Precept.

That ability already gives full comprehension of my domain, I can feel it, I already understand how to wield it, my mana domain.

I understand how gravity bends.

How montum builds.

How inertia locks a body in place or tears it apart.

Everything to its minute detail.

It’s all there.

And the weird part? It feels natural... and completely wrong at the sa ti. Like these mories were mine for years, and yet I know I never lived a single mont learning them.

Then Elijah cut in, "don’t try to frighten the kid."

"I wasn’t trying to," she quickly shot back, but her eyes said she enjoyed it a little too much.

RUSTLE!

Before I could say anything else, a low rustle rolled through the trees. Not the wind, as it was sothing heavier. Branches began to shift, and steps dragged through leaves.

Everyone froze.

Elijah didn’t hesitate. His blade was already out, the steel catching what little light filtered through the canopy. He stepped in front of us, shoulders tight, eyes locked on the tree line.

A shape then slipped out of the treeline, black and glossy. Then another. Then three more. Five in total, each one as big as a grown dog, their legs clicking against the roots.

The first one lunged.

Elijah t it without flinching. His blade flashed. Slash! The creature skidded sideways, ichor spraying across the leaves. A second spider dove for his legs, but he twisted out of range, the joints of his chanical arm hissing as the tal flexed.

"Dark spiders," he said, almost laughing.

Two more ca at him together. Elijah stepped into them. Clang! His tal arm shot forward, smashing one straight into the ground. Crack! The impact folded its legs like broken twigs. He spun fast enough that the other spider’s fangs snapped at empty air.

I watched him work, and honestly, there wasn’t a single opening to jump into. The guy moved like he’d fought these things a hundred tis. Every strike was clean. Every dodge tight. He didn’t even look stressed.

Another spider leapt at his back.

He cut it out of the air. Shhhk! The body hit the dirt in two neat halves.

The last one hesitated, legs trembling, instincts finally catching up. Elijah didn’t give it the chance. His chanical arm whirred, gears grinding, then—Smash!—he hamred the thing against a tree so hard the bark exploded.

Silence settled again, broken only by the twitching legs of the dead spiders.

Elijah twitch his shoulder, flicked the blood from his blade, and breathed out like he’d just did so chores.

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