The convoy left the city behind like a molted shell.
Stone walls shrank into pale geometry beneath drifting clouds, and the road ahead unspooled into a ribbon of light etched across the sky. Enchanted platforms moved in staggered formation, each bearing a different cluster of awakeners and escorts. Wind howled past shimmering barrier screens, scattering sunlight into fractured rainbows.
Zael sat near the outer rail of his assigned platform, one knee drawn up, cloak fluttering lazily behind him.
To anyone watching, he looked bored.
Inside, he was counting.
Two escort mages on the forward wing. One shield-bearer posted near the rear crystal engine. A detection array rotating every ninety seconds. The transport's mana core hummed with provincial-grade output—stable, but not excessive.
Zane's convoy would be three platforms ahead.
Different route.
Different shields.
Different attention.
By design.
A faint warmth brushed his spine.
Ascendant Echo.
Not a warning—just a reminder. Zane was active somewhere ahead, moving, training, fighting something small. The feedback was subtle, like pressure against a distant mirror.
Zael exhaled slowly.
"Don't draw eyes yet," he murmured under his breath. "Not here."
Below them, forests stretched like dark oceans. Broken roads glimmered faintly through the canopy—ancient paths swallowed by time. The farther they traveled, the thicker the mana currents became, tugging faintly at the enchantments woven into the platforms.
A rotating obelisk rose from the clouds ahead, its runes burning bright.
"Provincial checkpoint," a voice echoed across the convoy. "Remain seated. Status verification in progress."
Blue light washed over Zael.
He felt the scan pass over him—not the guild's surface system, but the deeper layer beneath it. For the briefest instant, translucent numbers brushed the edge of perception.
Level 14.
The echo mirrored it.
Then the pressure slid on.
No alarms.
No reactions.
But the Watcher's Key in his pocket warmed once… twice… and went cold again.
Zael's fingers twitched.
So it's still watching.
---
The convoy docked at a floating rest station as dusk bled into the clouds.
A ring of stone hovered around a central tower, its balconies already crowded with travelers and awakeners from other regions. Food stalls flickered to life with glowing braziers, and the smell of roasted beast meat and spiced grain drifted through the air.
"Thirty minutes," an escort captain called. "No wandering beyond the marked perimeter."
Zael stepped off the platform and stretched his arms.
Nearby, Tyron cracked his knuckles, faint lightning crawling over his gauntlets. Lirien leaned against a pillar, eyes closed as she drew in ambient mana. Seraphina stood alone near the railing, gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
Selvig, predictably, stood surrounded by admirers.
Two lesser nobles laughed at something he said, nodding eagerly as he rested his massive hammer against his shoulder. His Hero-grade armor gleamed even in the fading light, plates shifting with soft metallic clicks.
Zael drifted toward a food stall.
"Skewer?" the vendor asked.
"Two."
He took them and sat on a low wall, chewing slowly.
The sky darkened into layered blues and violets. Far below, faint red and gold glimmers marked monster movements—like embers crawling across black velvet.
"You always sit where you can see everything."
Tyron dropped beside him without asking.
Zael smirked. "Habit."
"You feel it too?" Tyron asked quietly.
"The tension?" Zael replied.
Tyron nodded. "This isn't like city trials. Too many eyes. Too many egos."
Zael's gaze drifted to Selvig.
Too many old grudges.
His jaw tightened faintly.
He hadn't planned on thinking about that today.
But Selvig had a way of dragging the past into the present just by standing there.
---
They'd known each other long before the academy.
Before talents.
Before rankings.
Back when Zael still lived in the outer district.
Back when Selvig was just a noble's son who hadn't awakened yet.
They'd trained together once.
Briefly.
Selvig had wanted to test himself against "Kael's little brother."
Zael had agreed—naively.
He still remembered the cracked training yard. The borrowed sword in his hands. The way Selvig's armor had gleamed even then.
He'd won.
Not by strength.
By reading Selvig's stance. By stepping into the blind angle of his swing and tapping his knee joint—just like today.
Selvig had fallen.
And nobles did not forget humiliation.
Not when it came from someone without bloodline or title.
After that, Selvig had awakened Knight Architect.
Hero grade.
And Zael had become, in Selvig's mind…
An insult that still walked.
Zael took another bite of his skewer.
So he hates me because I didn't lose properly.
How noble.
---
A ripple of murmurs spread near the central tower.
Zael lifted his eyes.
Seraphina had been joined by someone new.
Not from their convoy.
The man wore a silver-edged cloak and carried himself as if the air belonged to him. Pale hair, reflective golden eyes, and a mana presence that felt… heavy. Not explosive. Dense.
Seraphina spoke briefly.
He nodded once.
Then turned and left with his escort.
Whispers followed him immediately.
"That's from the western academies…"
"They say he's legendary grade."
"No way. Already?"
The name came a moment later.
Aurelion.
Zael chewed thoughtfully.
So that's the one they're measuring us against.
Seraphina didn't look back.
---
The convoy departed again as night deepened.
Stars rose.
So did the wind.
Hours passed in the low hum of engines and rotating barrier runes.
Zael leaned against the railing, eyes half-lidded.
Then—
The shields screamed.
Not an alarm.
A strain.
The barrier around the forward platform rippled violently.
A shadow surged up from the clouds.
"Beast cluster!" an escort mage shouted. "High-altitude predators!"
Three massive shapes tore through the mist.
Sky Renders — Levels 28–34
Winged serpentine bodies, translucent fins glowing with mana veins.
They slammed into the barrier.
The shield cracked.
One of the escorts hurled lightning upward, blasting through a fin.
The creature shrieked and spiraled away.
Two more struck.
The platform jolted violently.
Selvig stepped forward, hammer already glowing.
"Stay back," he barked to the others. "I'll handle this."
He leapt.
His hammer struck the nearest beast midair, crushing its skull in a burst of light.
The second Sky Render wrapped around the platform's edge and began chewing through the barrier lattice.
Zael moved without being noticed.
He didn't jump.
He ran along the platform edge and flicked his blade upward into the creature's glowing throat seam.
The beast convulsed and dropped away into the clouds.
Silence followed.
The shields stabilized.
Applause broke out from some of the escorts.
Selvig turned slowly.
His eyes found Zael.
They locked.
"You didn't have to interfere," Selvig said coldly.
Zael sheathed his blade. "It was chewing through the shield."
"I had it."
"Eventually."
A few nearby awakeners stiffened.
Tyron muttered, "Here we go…"
Selvig took a step closer, towering over Zael. "You think that little trick makes you useful?"
Zael met his gaze calmly.
"I think letting it eat the platform would've been inefficient."
Selvig's jaw tightened.
"You still fight like you're above everyone."
Zael shook his head faintly. "No. I fight like I don't want to die."
For a second, Selvig looked like he might swing.
Then the escort captain snapped, "Enough! Save it for the trial!"
Selvig turned away, gripping his hammer too tightly.
Zael exhaled quietly.
Still the same.
Still can't stand not being stronger.
---
Hours later, the convoy slipped through a band of silver clouds, moonlight spilling across rune-etched hulls.
Zael leaned back against the railing and finally allowed himself to relax.
Provincial territory waited ahead.
Other cities.
Other systems.
Other watchers.
He watched the clouds roll beneath them and smiled faintly.
"Let's see what kind of trouble you bring this time," he murmured—to Selvig, to Zane, and to the road ahead.