Chapter 110: The Razar War-Council

The Sunrise Embassy did not share the airy grace of the Zenith towers. It was a monolith of black basalt and blood-red cedar anchored deep into the island’s bedrock. As Vane stepped through the threshold, the air changed. It was not a trap, but the sheer density of the mana pooling within the stone made every breath feel thicker. It smelled of old iron and the sharp, coppery tang of warriors who lived for the front lines.

Vane walked beside Ashe with his back perfectly straight. He did not look at the Eastern guards who stood like statues in the shadows. He used the Sovereign’s Glide Valerica had drilled into him, moving with a calm, predatory boredom that masked his focus.

“My brother is in the central hall,” Ashe whispered. Her red eyes darted toward the dark corners of the fortress. “He does not believe in pleasantries. If he asks you a question, answer it like you are choosing a weapon.”

“I always do,” Vane replied.

They entered the central hall. It was a vast, open space lit by lanterns of floating crimson flame. At the far end, Kaito Razar sat at a low stone slab. He had discarded his heavy blade and wore only a dark silk robe that left his scarred chest and massive, obsidian-tipped horns exposed. He was not actively using any magic, yet his presence was a physical weight. As a Rank 7 Master, Kaito’s body was essentially a living mana-battery. Just being in his vicinity felt like standing too close to a roaring furnace.

“Sit,” Kaito commanded.

There were no chairs. Vane and Ashe took their places on the floor across from the Master. The stone was freezing, designed to leach heat from those not strong enough to maintain their own internal temperature.

In the center of the table were several heavy iron pots filled with seared dragon-elk and bitter roots. Beside them lay the utensils. Vane reached for a pair of chopsticks and felt the weight immediately. Even with the superhuman strength of a Rank 3 Elite, the chopsticks were a challenge.

They were carved from Black Iron, a metal typically used to reinforce city gates. They were so dense that if Vane dropped one, it would likely shatter the stone floor. To use them with the delicate, silent grace of a noble required perfect mana-integration. It was a test of fine motor control that most mages would fail, regardless of their origin.

Vane gripped the iron sticks. His muscles tensed for a micro-second before he flooded his fingers with a thin, precise layer of mana. He picked up a piece of meat, his hand as steady as a surgeon’s.

Kaito’s eyes narrowed as he watched the metal move through the air without a single vibration. “Most students at this academy would have shattered the bowl by now. They rely on their power to bend the world to their will, but they forget that the body must be a stable anchor for that power.”

“The power is only as strong as the man wielding it,” Vane said. He took a bite of the meat. It was incredibly tough, requiring his mana-reinforced muscles to even chew. “I am Vane. I hear you have questions about my squad.”

“I have questions about my sister,” Kaito corrected. He turned to Ashe, his gaze cold. “You entered Zenith as Rank 4. The pride of the Razar bloodline. Now, I see you are Rank 6. You have allowed yourself to be outpaced.”

Ashe’s grip on her own iron utensils tightened until the stone table beneath them groaned. “I did not allow anything, Kaito. The rankings are based on total contribution. Vane is the leader because he earned it.”

“I do not care for the details of your loss,” Kaito interrupted. He looked back at Vane, his Master-rank pressure intensifying. “I care that the Razar name is being used as a footstool for a boy who comes from nothing. Why should I not take her back to the East tonight?”

Vane set his iron chopsticks down. The heavy metal made no sound as it touched the stone, a display of control that made Kaito’s brow twitch.

“Because she is not Rank 6 because she grew weak,” Vane said, his voice flat and certain. “She is Rank 6 because I am the one leading this squad. If you want someone to blame for her standing, look at me. But do not pretend you do not see what is happening in her mana-core.”

Vane focused his intent, his eyes glowing with a silver spark.

[Target Analysis]

Name: Kaito Razar

Rank: 7 (Master)

Danger: Extreme

Authority: God-Slayer’s Heart (SS)

Kaito leaned forward. The air in the room began to thrum with a low, rhythmic vibration. It was the sound of his SS-rank authority pulsing. “You have a lot of nerve for a boy who has not even seen his twentieth winter.”

Kaito reached out, not to strike, but to grab Vane’s wrist. Vane did not pull away. As the Master’s hand closed around his arm, a wave of crushing pressure washed through Vane’s mana-veins. It was a probe, a violent search of his potential.

Suddenly, Kaito’s eyes widened. He felt the density of Vane’s mana. It was not the fluid energy of a typical Elite. It was thick and swirling with a silver intensity that was pushing against the very limits of his Rank 3 status.

“You,” Kaito whispered, his voice losing its edge of mockery. “You are at the Gate.”

Ashe looked between them, confused. “The Gate?”

“The Gate to Rank 4,” Kaito said, slowly releasing Vane’s wrist. He looked at Vane with a new, unsettling intensity. “You are a Rank 3 Elite, yet your mana-veins are already calcifying into the crystalline structure of a Sentinel. You are weeks, perhaps days, away from breaking through. At your age, that is not just talent. That is a monstrosity.”

The realization changed the air in the room. Kaito was no longer looking at an intruder. He was looking at a predator that had managed to hide its teeth. To reach the Sentinel rank so quickly meant Vane’s foundation was more solid than many high-born mages.

“I see,” Kaito said, leaning back. He picked up his own bowl, his movements more deliberate. “Perhaps my sister is not being outpaced. Perhaps she is simply standing in the shadow of something larger.”

“I told you,” Ashe said, her voice filled with a quiet pride.

“The Sovereigns will arrive tomorrow,” Kaito warned, his tone now one of professional advice rather than interrogation. “The Aurelian Empire already sees you as a threat. They want to own the boy who broke the Glacium’s streak before he becomes a Sentinel and grows too expensive to buy.”

Vane met Kaito’s gaze. “They can try whatever they like. I have spent my life killing people who thought they owned me.”

Kaito laughed, a genuine, booming sound that shook the lanterns. “A gutter cat with the heart of a lion. Fine. You have my acknowledgement for tonight, Vane.”

As they left the embassy an hour later, the cool night air of the sky-piers felt thin and sweet. Vane looked at his hands. They were steady, but he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. Kaito was right. He was at the Gate. He could feel his mana-core wanting to crystallize, wanting to claim the power of a Rank 4 Sentinel.

“He acknowledged you,” Ashe said, bumping her shoulder against his. “That is more than most Kings get from him.”

“It is a start,” Vane said, looking up at the approaching lights of the Western fleets. “But the Gala has not even begun. We have a lot more people to shock before this is over.”

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