The air beyond the rift was thin—almost hollow, like something essential had been stripped from it. It was the same world he'd known, the same sky, the same faint hum of morning mana drifting between the clouds, yet somehow duller, quieter, as if everything had lost its pulse.
Ael exhaled slowly, chest still heaving from the rush of battle that lingered in his blood. He turned around just in time to see the last shimmer of the rift close behind them, collapsing inward like a dying star before fading entirely. The gateway sealed itself in silence, leaving only the faint ripple of mana dissipating into the wind.
He stood there for a moment longer than the others, eyes tracing the empty air where the portal once was. For some reason, watching it vanish always felt heavier than expected—like watching a door close to something that was not meant for this world.
"How was your first experience on a raid, Ael?"
He turned toward the familiar voice. Lyra stood near the edge of the stone platform, sunlight glinting off the phoenix-shaped clasp on her cloak. Her hair, a molten cascade of red and gold, seemed to dance with the same flame she commanded. Her expression was calm but curious, an ember of pride flickering behind her eyes.
Ael managed a tired grin. "I'd say it went well. I killed thirteen monsters and landed the finishing blow on the guardian. Not bad for a rookie, right?"
He tried to sound playful, but there was something in his voice—something worn.
Lyra's eyes softened, though surprise flashed across them briefly. She had expected him to perform well—his potential was obvious from the start—but hearing that he'd landed the final strike on a guardian was different. Guardians weren't mindless beasts. They were intelligent, reactive, and merciless. For a first-time awakener to stand toe to toe with one, much less kill it, bordered on impossible.
She hid her intrigue behind a faint smirk. "So you're already counting kills, huh? You sound like one of the veterans."
Ael chuckled. "I guess the rift brought it out of me."
Before Lyra could say more, Amanda—the team's leader—approached. She still carried the sharp composure of a seasoned fighter, though her armor bore a few deep scratches that told of the struggle inside.
"I'll deliver a full debrief at the guild," Amanda said, glancing between Ael and Lyra. "You'll want to hear everything yourself."
Lyra gave a short nod. "Good. I want every detail—especially about our rookie here."
Amanda smiled faintly. "Of course. But not tonight." Her tone softened as she turned to Ael. "You did well, truly. Take the rest of the day off. Come by tomorrow for the debrief. We'll talk through what you learned… and what comes next."
There was something unsaid in her voice, a subtle caution that Ael caught instantly. It wasn't just about performance—it was about the energy he carried, the strange resonance in his attacks that no one could quite name. He simply nodded. "Understood. I'll see you tomorrow, Guild Master."
Lyra's expression flickered at the title, but she said nothing. Instead, she watched him go, her gaze following him until the crowd of awakeners swallowed his silhouette.
By the time Ael reached home, the adrenaline had long faded, replaced by a quiet, aching fatigue that sat deep in his bones. The familiar cobblestone path leading to his door felt longer than usual. Every sound—the chirp of cicadas, the brush of wind through the trees—felt sharper, clearer.
He pushed the door open, only to be immediately tackled by a blur of black hair and tears.
"Isla—!"
Her arms locked around him before he could finish. She clung to him like she'd been holding her breath the entire time he was gone. "You're late," she said, her voice trembling. "You said it would be four hours. It's been five."
He smiled weakly, resting a hand on her head. "I'm fine, see? Not even a scratch."
From behind her came Kara's voice, part anger, part relief. "Five hours, Ael. You think we wouldn't notice? Do you know how many things could go wrong in there?" She stood with crossed arms, though her eyes glistened faintly, betraying the emotion she was trying to hide.
Lira emerged last, standing by the dining table. She didn't speak immediately—just looked at him, long and silent. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
Ael's smile faltered. "Mom…"
Lira shook her head and stepped closer, placing a hand against his cheek. "You came back," she whispered. "That's all that matters."
The room fell quiet for a moment. The faint crackle of the fireplace filled the silence.
Kara broke it with the question everyone had been holding in. "So… did you kill anything?"
Ael blinked, then laughed softly. "That's the first thing you want to ask me?"
Kara shrugged. "Well… yeah."
"Fine, fine," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "If you must know—fourteen. Including the guardian."
The words landed like a spark in dry grass. Isla's grip on his sleeve loosened as she looked up, disbelief painting her features. Lira's eyes widened. Even Kara's mock-serious expression faltered.
"Wait—the guardian?" Kara asked slowly.
"Yeah. Though, to be fair, it was a team effort," he said quickly, trying not to sound arrogant. "Amanda dealt the first real blow. I just… finished it."
The silence that followed wasn't of doubt, but of awe.
Lira finally smiled, small and trembling but proud. "You've grown, Ael."
He swallowed the knot rising in his throat. "Yeah… I guess I have."
He didn't tell them about the strange way his Ether surged when he fought, how it felt alive, almost aware. Or how the monsters seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second before his strikes landed, like they sensed something they couldn't understand.
He just smiled, excused himself, and climbed the stairs to his room, each step heavier than the last.
The door shut softly behind him.
He collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling for a long while before whispering, "Status."
The familiar translucent screen shimmered into existence, its pale glow filling the dim room.
─────────────────
STATUS SCREEN
─────────────────
Name: Elyrion Vaelora
Race: ???
Ether Core Level: 3 (0/400)
Title: The Vessel
Class: Ether Paragon (Unique)
Class Skill: Ether Manipulation
─────────────────
Stats:
Strength : 20 -> 24
Agility : 20 -> 24
Vitality : 20 -> 24 [HP: 240 / 240]
Stamina : 20 -> 24
Intelligence : 20 -> 26 [Ether: 260 / 260]
─────────────────
Skills:
Ethereal Weaponry(A) - 5 -> 12%
Barrier(E*) - 10%
Sun of Oblivion(S) - 1%
─────────────────
He exhaled in quiet amazement. His stats had risen, just as the system described. But it was the growth in Ethereal Weaponry that made him pause. From five percent to twelve—nearly doubling. He could feel the difference in his fingertips, the ease with which Ether responded now was a bit better.
He remembered the moment mid-battle when he realized he should shape new forms—daggers, a bow—constructs that flickered into being as though they'd always existed in his mind. Each weapon felt like an extension of himself, born not of thought but instinct better suited to the situation that he was facing in the rift.
He traced a hand through the empty air, letting faint threads of silver light form along his palm before dismissing them. "So it really does grow with me…" he murmured.
For a moment, the excitement returned. But then the exhaustion hit. His limbs felt like stone. His vision blurred at the edges. He leaned back against the sheets and closed his eyes, Ether pulsing faintly beneath his skin like a distant heartbeat.
Sleep took him before he even realized it.
At the Phoenix Guild headquarters, the night burned with quiet intensity. The last rays of the sun filtered through the stained glass of the upper hall, casting golden patterns across the floor. Lyra sat at the end of a long table, the guild insignia glowing faintly behind her. Amanda stood opposite her, armor still faintly dusted with ash from the rift.
Lyra's gaze was sharp. "Be honest with me, Amanda. I heard he took down thirteen monsters—and the guardian. Tell me how."
Amanda hesitated, then straightened her back. "Guild Master, I've led dozens of raids. I've seen prodigies and reckless geniuses alike, but Ael…" She paused. "He's something else. He doesn't hesitate. His strikes are precise, almost instinctive. Even my veterans couldn't keep up with his reflexes. It's not speed—it's… awareness. Like he already knows what the enemy will do before it happens."
Lyra's expression didn't change, but her fingers tapped the table softly. "And the guardian?"
Amanda exhaled. "I wounded it first. Barely. Normally it would've taken several coordinated attacks to bring it down. But before I could even retreat, Ael moved. He didn't hesitate. Two spears—Ether-made—straight into its core. Pierced clean through. It didn't even have time to regenerate."
She stopped for a moment, her eyes flicking upward as if replaying it all in her mind. "His element… Ether, you called it? It's unlike anything I've ever seen. My flames don't compare. It doesn't burn—it consumes. It's quiet, almost gentle, but it cuts through anything. Even the guardian's armor crumbled under it."
Lyra sat back slowly. The firelight caught in her eyes, reflecting the faint curve of a smile that wasn't entirely warmth—it was intrigue, the sharp edge of discovery.
"So," she murmured, "the boy is even more dangerous than I thought."
Amanda nodded. "With the right training, he could surpass most of us in months. But there's something else… I don't think he realizes how different his energy really is."
Lyra looked toward the large window where the city lights flickered beyond the horizon. For a moment, the phoenix sigil behind her seemed to shimmer like living flame.
"When he learns to refine his core," she said softly, "no one will stop him."