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"And how exactly do you plan to save us from a Rank 4 Spark?" Orven asked, beginning to wonder if the boy had lost his mind.

That creature had threatened the kingdom for the past three years. Countless practitioners had fallen in its path. And now this young man, barely more than a stranger, believed he could stop it simply because he carried the title of a young lord?

As Orven’s frustration built, ready to put the boy in his place and remind him the world was far larger than he realized, Vesha’s voice cut through the tension like a blade through silk.

"Father... he’s an Astra Path practitioner."

Her tone was thin, laced with both respect and unease. Watching her father speak to soone of that level as if he were still a reckless boy was beginning to wear on her nerves.

"You said what?" Orven asked, eyes wide, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

"You...?" He stood up, turning to Adyr with a focused gaze, as if trying to see past his composed deanor. The boy was calm—too calm. Absolutely sure of himself.

As the realization settled over him like a heavy fog, Orven finally spoke. "You’re a practitioner? I’m sitting here eating breakfast with a practitioner?"

He laughed. Not out of joy, but the kind of laugh that ca from disbelief, as if soone had just told him the world had turned upside down.

A practitioner. An existence whose purpose was to face threats capable of erasing kingdoms. One who wielded the hidden forces of the world. The kind who could level mountains in anger, or turn dry riverbeds into flowing streams when pleased. And here he was, calmly sharing a al with a man like him?

It felt like a joke. But neither of them looked like they were joking.

He sank back into his chair, stunned, and muttered, "So you really are a practitioner. And of the Astra Path, no less."

He thought of the one who had shown interest in his daughter—a Nether Path practitioner. Powerful, yes. Wanting to marry his daughter, also yes. Yet still soone he had never t in person. Not because he lacked the ti, but because his status as a lord wasn’t high enough to justify such a eting. If a practitioner ever wished to speak with him, they would summon Orven, not the other way around.

And now, here he was. Sitting across from one. Sharing a al. Speaking as if they were equals.

As Orven cycled through a storm of emotions, struggling to accept the truth, Adyr spoke.

"It’s true, I’m a practitioner," he said, calmly setting down his knife and fork. "And yes, I offered to save your kingdom from a Rank 4 Spark. But I’m also fully aware that, as I am now, I don’t yet have the strength to make that possible. That’s why I need help. I may not be strong enough yet—but I have full confidence that I will be in the near future."

His confidence might have co off as arrogance to others, but neither Orven nor Vesha saw it that way. Especially Vesha—she thought he was being humble.

"Anything..." Orven tried to respond, but sothing caught in his throat. He cleared it with a few quiet coughs before continuing. "Just say the word, Lord Adyr. We would be honored to serve you."

Had Adyr asked for his daughter’s hand at that mont, Orven wouldn’t have thought twice. His willingness to offer help had already reached the point where even giving his daughter wouldn’t have felt too much. Adyr might not yet rival a Rank 4 practitioner, but walking the Astra Path alone was enough to make him worthy.

"What I need is information," Adyr said plainly. "Reports on recent Spark sightings near the capital—and a reliable network that can help locate and handle them more effectively."

It was the sa thing he had asked of Vesha the day before. The only difference now was that he was asking soone with real power and influence—her father—which could make the process significantly easier.

"Of course," Orven replied, visibly pleased to offer his full cooperation. "In fact, for the past three years, even low-rank Sparks have caused more than enough trouble."

He paused for a mont, thinking, then added, "A few months ago, I received reports from a village not far from the capital. Trees were vanishing overnight, and children had begun losing their mories. I suspected a Spark might be involved and sent so of my n to investigate, but they found nothing. Eventually, we had to pull back. Would you be interested in checking it out?"

"Actually, Father, there was a Rank 2 Spark behind it," Vesha said with a faint, playful smile, continuing her al with graceful ease. "But Lord Adyr already dealt with it. Yesterday."

"Did he?" Orven fell silent for a few seconds, the shock and relief both clear on his face—then he let out a heartfelt laugh.

"And it was a Rank 2? God Astrael must have blessed my soldiers. Failing to find it may have been the very thing that saved their lives."

Without the proper skills, even a practitioner could fail to capture a Hollow Mimic, a creature with a spiritual body. A group of ordinary soldiers, ard with nothing but swords, stood no chance.

Even if they had found it by sheer luck, the only fate that would have awaited them was complete mory loss or, worse, the erosion of their very sense of reality.

After a mont of thought and quiet deliberation, Lord Orven turned to the maid standing by the door, always ready to respond to any need. "Diam, call the head knight for ."

"Y-Yes," the middle-aged maid stamred, quickly accepting the order. She turned stiffly, her movents almost chanical. Her steps faltered, and she nearly tripped more than once on her way out.

But no one blad her. She had been in the room from the beginning, silently absorbing everything with wide-eyed disbelief.

Looks like my presence here will spread across the region soon, Adyr thought as he watched her leave.

Even if what happened yesterday wasn’t enough, with the maids’ gossip network now in motion, he was certain his na would be known within days. And that was essential if he wanted to accelerate his path to getting stronger.

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