"Hey! You're being unnecessarily rude!"
[Mental Strength: 145/1200]
Baron sucked in a deep breath, then another—each one loud, strained, furious. His face flushed so hard it was honestly impressive.
"I will ask one question," he said, voice tight, "and you will answer, you annoying brat."
He leaned in closer.
Too close.
His eyes locked onto Elias with a quiet, dangerous intensity. "None of the forensic scans identified your parents among the bodies."
Elias didn't blink.
"Jordan and Lunera Verdan were last reported inside the city before the invasion," Baron continued. "So tell me—were they part of the scum from the Dissonant Hand? Did they help doom this entire city and then run when they were done?"
For a second, Elias was genuinely stunned.
The sheer creativity it took to reach that conclusion almost impressed him.
Almost.
But once the initial shock faded, he had to admit—it wasn't completely far-fetched.
Spies for the Dissonant Hand were usually mundanes. Normal Chordbearers would never work for those lunatics. Not when their entire creed revolved around slaughtering Echoforms, while the Dissonant Hand worshipped them.
Those beliefs didn't just clash—they annihilated each other.
And thanks to the layers of security meant to keep the Dissonant Hand out of the cities, mundanes made perfect spies. Invisible. Overlooked. Easy to plant. Easy to trust.
Information flowed best through people no one bothered to watch.
And if you're wondering why a mundane would ever help an organization bent on ending their own race…
Well.
Humans had always been disgustingly good at betraying themselves.
Elias clicked his tongue softly.
From Baron's warped point of view, surviving the invasion only made him more suspicious. A lone survivor. No parents. No bodies.
Which, of course, meant only one thing.
A family of spies.
Baron probably imagined his parents failing to escape with him before the Choir Knights arrived—or worse, abandoning him and fleeing once their job was done.
What a twisted little story.
"Neither I nor my parents were involved—directly or indirectly—with the invasion," Elias said, teeth grinding as he met Baron's gaze head-on.
He didn't know when exactly it started, but he was pissed. Really pissed.
Sure, he understood this was just speculation. A theory. A guess stitched together from fear and paranoia.
But dragging his parents into it? Turning them into traitors because it was convenient?
That crossed something.
"So this is what we're doing now?" Elias snapped. "Using good people as scapegoats just because you suck so badly at your damn jobs—"
A faint throbbing pulsed against his forehead.
He froze.
[Mental Strength: 0/1200]
…Dammit.
That only made him angrier.
So this was it now? He couldn't even vent? Couldn't raise his voice without the damn curse crawling up his spine and choking him silent?
The creeping, suffocating curse.
What was he supposed to do—turn into some kind of celibate monk and meditate his frustrations away?
Silence stretched.
Baron barely reacted to the outburst. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, slow and deliberate, while his eyes studied Elias like a puzzle that refused to solve itself.
"Pray tell, lad," Baron finally said, "where the hell are your damn parents?"
Elias scoffed.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms overhead and letting out an exaggerated yawn.
Yeah. Right.
As if he was answering that.
Not that he could, even if he wanted to.
The thing about exhausted Mental Strength was that it was supposed to take days to recover. Which meant Baron was probably under the impression that once he hit zero, the interrogation for the day was effectively over.
And for a normal Chordbearer?
That would be true.
But his strings were anything but normal.
Even now, he could feel it—slow, faint, but undeniable. His Mental Strength was already beginning to recover. Given a few more minutes, he'd probably be able to speak again.
Maybe even answer.
But Baron didn't know that.
And he had no intention of telling him.
So yeah. He could just play dumb and let the idiot assume his Mental Strength was completely drained.
"Answer the question, boy," Baron repeated, his voice dropping into a low growl.
Elias leaned forward instead.
A lazy smile tugged at the corner of his lips, one eyebrow lifting in open mockery as if saying 'and what if I don't, you bastard?'
One of Baron's eyebrows twitched.
Just once.
"Get the hell out of my damn office, you piece of shit," Baron snarled.
The string in front of him vanished instantly, and the Echofield collapsed into glowing embers that scattered through the air like dying fireflies.
Reality rushed back in.
The full office snapped into view.
And then—
Light.
Blinding, overwhelming light flooded everything. For a split second, there was nothing but white.
Elias shot to his feet, head snapping toward the glass walls.
His breath caught.
Above the ruined cityscape… there was a second sun.
A massive golden sphere burned in the sky, its brilliance soft yet impossible to ignore. At its center hovered a vague human silhouette, suspended calmly within the light.
Golden moths rained down from the sphere, drifting through the air like dust shaken loose from the sun itself.
A sound reached his ears—soft, distant, almost like the ringing of a lullaby bell.
Elias didn't know exactly what this was supposed to do.
But if he had to guess, this was probably the final ritual—the cleansing. Whatever method the Choir used to purge the city of lingering corruption.
With his enhanced eyesight, the details sharpened.
Golden strings—dozens of them—coiled around the human figure like living tendrils, twisting and weaving in slow, deliberate motions. Each string pulsed rhythmically, releasing ripples of golden light that fed into the massive sun hanging over the city.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
And unmistakably divine.
Who the hell was this big shot?
The sheer scale of such a ridiculously massive Echofield made Elias feel small. Tiny, even. And… a little humbled.
If he hadn't already met that god dude, he'd probably be peeing his pants in sheer terror right about now.
"Take this before you leave," Baron said, tossing a card at him.
His face didn't change—still the same cold, exhausted mask—despite the literal ball of divine light blazing outside the glass walls.
He looked like someone who'd seen far more ridiculous things.
Which, honestly, was fair.
Elias barely caught the card. One eyebrow lifted as he studied it—a glossy blue surface, smooth and expensive. The insignia stamped at the corner made his eyes widen just a bit.
Concordia Labs.
He glanced up at Baron, who wasn't done talking.
"A Mr. Ferborn asked me to give that to you once your investigation concluded," Baron said. "It has his contact. Call him and wait for further instructions."
He paused, then snapped his fingers as if something had just occurred to him.
"Oh. Right. You should also know—your sister is okay."
Elias let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Relief washed through him, and the moment Baron mentioned the investigation was over, Elias' eyes sparkled despite himself.
Perfect.
That meant he wouldn't have to look at this man's irritating face ever again.
"Stop smirking and get out," Baron snapped, pointing at the door.
He looked about three seconds away from flipping Elias upside down just to make a point.
How rude.
Clicking his tongue, Elias turned and headed for the exit, thoughts already racing.
Concordia Labs was located in Vertnar Moor, a few miles out. He would need to take the train and check up on Lizzy to make sure she was okay.
And if he had time during the ride?
He'd visit the Realm.
Maybe do a bit of farming in one of the red-grade Mirroths.
The way his class worked still fascinated him, and the curiosity gnawed at his chest.
He couldn't wait to finally test it out.
Before any of that, he needed a shower. And some actual clothes from home.
He'd been wearing the Lament the entire time, and walking around barefoot made him stand out in all the wrong ways. People already stared enough without him looking like some unhinged cult survivor.
And now that he was awakened…
He finally qualified to join Resonance Academy.
The thought alone sent a rush of excitement straight through his chest.
Get ready, bastards.
Elias Verdan is coming to kick your asses.
Right as he reached the doors, Elias paused.
Then he turned.
Baron was still glaring at him like he had personally crushed his balls or something.
There was no way Elias was planning to leave without giving the jackass a proper goodbye.
So with a smirk spreading across his face, he raised his hands and gave him the middle finger.
The doors had barely closed behind him when a furious roar echoed through the office.
"You dare!"
***
Seconds after Elias left…
The room fell silent again.
The only sound that remained was the faint scratch of Baron's pen as it moved steadily across the papers on his desk.
For a while, nothing else happened.
Then something changed.
A section of the concrete wall directly opposite where Elias had been sitting suddenly shimmered—like heat rippling through the air, or an illusion slowly deciding to become real.
The distortion deepened.
And then a girl stepped out of the wall.
Not as if she had entered… but as if she had always been there.
Her eyes were the color of liquid lavender, calm and strangely bright. Long orange hair flowed down her back, tied in a high ponytail that bounced lightly as she walked. Under the office lights, the strands almost seemed to glow.
She looked young.
Too young.
At first glance, anyone would have guessed she was barely in her early twenties.
A lollipop dangled lazily from her lips as she strolled forward, completely unhurried.
Without saying a word, she stopped right behind Baron's chair and leaned slightly to the side, peeking over his shoulder with quiet curiosity at whatever he was writing.
"What do you think about him?" Baron asked without looking up, his pen still moving across the paper in front of him. "Did anything about that little lad catch your interest, Lady Morgan?"
She shook her head.
"He's weak."
Baron paused for a brief moment, then continued writing.
"I beg to differ. So why are you spying on him right here in my office?" he asked calmly. "Don't tell me you're doing this out of boredom."
Morgan rolled her eyes and turned away, walking over to the chair Elias had been sitting in moments earlier before dropping into it.
"You think I want to?" she muttered.
The lollipop in her mouth shifted lazily as she spoke.
"For some reason Antonio seems interested in the kid. Don't ask me why." She shrugged lightly. "Even after his awakening he still looks painfully ordinary. I could barely sense any kind of ripple from him."
She scoffed.
"He probably awakened a common class. Kind of fitting for someone with defective strings."
Then she glanced at Baron again, raising an eyebrow as she pulled the lollipop from her mouth.
"You look like you haven't slept in days, old man. You know nobody's stopping your fat ass from taking a break, right?"
Crack.
Baron's pen snapped in his hand.
His face reddened as he slowly turned to glare at the girl, who was staring back at him with complete indifference.
"Who are you calling old, you brat?!" he snapped. "I'm still in my early thirties! People like me can live up to five centuries!"
Morgan clicked her tongue.
"Well, you already look like an old man now." She tilted her head slightly, studying him with mock curiosity. "I wonder how bad it'll be when you actually get old."
She smirked faintly.
"You'll probably look like a well-preserved corpse."
Baron inhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead as he muttered a few curses under his breath.
"Alright. That's enough." He waved a hand dismissively. "Time for you to leave, little devil. I'm sure it can't be that interesting hanging around a boring old man like me."
Morgan stood up, her eyes drifting once more to the scattered papers on his desk.
"I'm curious," she said, her brows lifting slightly. "What's got you this stressed?"
She gestured lazily around the room.
"Handling the aftermath of an invasion in some small town shouldn't be this exhausting, right?"
Baron groaned, pressing both hands against his forehead.
"Of course it shouldn't," he muttered. "But things stop going your way when one of humanity's 'great hopes' suddenly decides to visit this so-called small town… all because of some boy."
His teeth clenched in irritation.
"Now I have to make sure the path across Doscan Pass is secure and clear of strays, reorganize the garrisons, and provide intel on every little thing happening in this town of scraps."
Baron dragged both hands through his hair in pure frustration.
"And the mere thought of the PR nightmare this is going to cause makes my brain feel like it's about to freaking explode!" he groaned. "Dammit!"
Morgan's eyes immediately narrowed with interest.
Her tongue slid slowly across her lips, like someone catching the scent of delicious gossip.
"That's interesting news, old man," she said casually. "But which one of the Apex is it? None of them ever struck me as the type to get smitten over some random boy."
Baron grimaced the moment she called him old again, but he let it slide this time.
"Hah… who else would it be?" he muttered tiredly. "The one person who actually has ties to this place."
He let out a long sigh.
"Blade of Justice — Sera Myllan."
Morgan blinked.
Baron leaned back in his chair, clearly exhausted.
"After all," he continued, "the lad who just walked out of my office… is her childhood friend."
For a moment, Morgan went completely silent.
Her eyebrow twitched.
"So you're telling me…" she said slowly, "…that the nameless guy almost every Scion from the Noble Houses wants to beat up… is that guy?"
Baron reached under his desk and pulled out a bottle of champagne.
With a quiet pop, the cork flew off.
He took a long, unapologetic gulp straight from the bottle.
"Pretty much."
Morgan slowly turned her gaze toward the office door Elias had exited through earlier.
Her lavender eyes narrowed into thin slits.
"Interesting…"