“So do Anzem’s have red hair?” Nero asked to settle the mood. Clearly, recalling his parents was not a pleasant experience for Gabriel, so he was trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve never heard of that, though to be fair, I’ve not heard much about them at all.”

“No, it’s because of my mom,” he said, sounding depressed. “Don’t ask what her ability is because even I don’t know. My own ability is no clue either, because it’s a mutation born from both my parents abilities. So I have no idea what her ability is.

I just know that it is valuable enough for the family to accept her marriage with my dad even though it’s blatantly obvious all she cares about is money.”

For a brief moment, Gabriel looked even more depressed. But then he recovered, showing no signs of his previous demeanour.

“How did you learn about this anyway? I thought you had your hands full with the Henry and Charles stuff. By the way, I’ve already found out about their usual group of friends, so we can keep an eye on them as well.”

“Oh, I actually found out about this because of them. Their associate mentioned it right before I killed them all. Don’t ask, I’m not allowed to say.”

Nero smiled, feeling good about turning the ‘don’t ask’ around on Gabriel. But, unexpectedly, Gabriel did not look annoyed at Nero for doing that. Instead, he just looked like he was lost in thought.

“What?” Nero asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking that I’m going to really enjoy it when my cousins come here and I have them beat you up.”

Nero snorted.

“As if they could,” he said, though if anything, after his recent battle, his confidence in himself had actually dropped. When things were limited to just a physical fight, Nero was more than confident at winning. But he had seen how abilities and cards could completely change the outcome of a battle first hand, which is why he knew that to remain confident would actually be arrogant.

For example, Wendy had never won a fight against him, even when she only used non-lethal venom so she was technically still using her abilities. But with her help, he was able to easily take down an Initiate. The combination of various abilities and countless skills brought about possibilities that he could not account for no matter how he planned and prepared.

The only way he would be able to regain some of his former confidence is if he completely reanalysed his combat style and paired it with countless cards. It would also help if he fought against others with various abilities so that he could raise his experience level.

Hopefully he had been able to impress the major enough with his performance to get specialised training or attention, because now that he identified the area he needed to improve in, he had to figure out how to address it.

The following day, much to Nero’s delight, he got exactly what he wanted. He, along with a few others, were shortlisted for extremely specialised training that was specific to each of them.

Wendy and Taylor were put on a different fireteam so that they could continue their regular training, while Nero was trained in one thing, and one thing alone. It was not leadership or decision making or anything like that. Nero was taught solely how to fight other Eldrim card masters, as well as curses and monsters!

A week later, Nero was brought out of training to be interviewed under extremely unusual circumstances. The major instructed him to cooperate completely, and share exactly what had happened in the forest, exactly as he told the major, then he was brought to a room that was completely pitch black.

If there was someone in that room, he could not tell, at least until a nondescript voice asked him to begin his tale.

Without stopping, Nero repeated the story, without being interrupted even once. Even though he spent a lot of time in the room, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see nothing of the room or the man who was inside it with him.

Then, without warning, there was a flash of light, leaving Nero dazed and disoriented. He felt like something else had happened, but he could not recall. That was the end of the interview, and the incident was never mentioned again.

Nero’s training continued, and as time went by, the atmosphere started to become more and more sombre. Stories from the warfront started coming in, and they weren’t all good. There were two more battles involving sages that were publicly known.

The situation was becoming dire. Ordinarily, Kolar would have pushed to retaliate under such brutal attacks, but they could not afford to loosen security around the ruins.

Like that, five more weeks went by, but even as the mood in the country got darker, Nero only focused on his own training. How could he not? The major got Nero a personal artisan towards the end, and then he really began to explore all the possibilities.

*****

Spring had come, and it was always a deadly time for everyone, though this year it was even moreso. The rising temperatures also resulted in more humidity, but up in Lorilem everyone was used to it..

In fact, the locals of the area were hardly bothered by it, because every facet of life in Lorilem revolved around the River Jin, and Lake Natura. When half of them spent most of their time under the water, no matter how humid it got, they hardly noticed.

Ordinarily, Marilyn hated the humidity. Back when she was serving, every time she would have to come to Lorilem for anything, she would loathe the weather even more than the people, or the extremely rigid grid like structure in which the city was arranged.

Though the buildings in each district were coloured differently, in an attempt to veer away from the depressing, very literally grey past of the city, she found the extreme conformity the city demonstrated in every aspect to be quite soulless. Each building had a nearly identical design, owing to its very efficient use of space, reaching the maximum allowed height of six stories.

Each street had the exact same number of buildings, the exact same number of street lamps, the exact same length, the exact same pattern of sidewalk, exact same…

Or perhaps she was simply finding excuses to justify her bias. She just didn’t like Lorilem, and it had nothing to do with the fact that her family had been driven out of this city when she was young. The city was simply soulless.

But her trip this time around, Marilyn had no time at all to dwell on her distaste. Her treatment was not one where she would lie in bed and be pumped full of medicine. No, a Mystic Orchardist treated her, and she had to be awake for the whole process, informing the Mystic about everything that was happening in her body.

Were anyone else to find out about this, they would be incredibly confused, as Orchardists ordinarily had nothing to do with the medicinal arts. That was normally considered an Ayuervedists domain. But Marilyn had to work with an Orchardist due to the special nature of her body, as well as the origin of her injury.

It was a long, and extremely painful and gruesome process, as the Orchardist grew various plants inside her body that would sometimes harm, and sometimes help her. But halfway through her treatment something unexpected happened.

The army found her, and informed her that she had been reinstated to her former position due to the war. Before she could protest, they informed her the army would completely finance her recovery, and then replaced the Mystic Orchardist with an Ascendant one.

It took him only seven minutes to heal her more thoroughly than she had ever even hoped. Not only could she once more cultivate, she also regained her ability to bear children once more – something she had lost when she became injured.

But she had no time to celebrate. As soon as she was fully healed, she once again took up her position in the army, and her first mission was one she had planned on undertaking to begin with, though her original plan was to do it secretly. It was to break through the Arcanist realm and enter the ranks of Mystics.

She had prepared for this event already, but her commanding officer was no miser, and maximised her chances by providing her with the best support possible.

Today, weeks after she began, Marilyn finally opened her eyes. She did not feel the exhaustion that plagued her body, nor the sweat that covered her face. No, she only felt the rising might in her chest that signified her new rank. Today, finally, after so many years, she had broken through to the rank of Mystic, with the profession of Monarch.

Over the next hour, as she got used to her power, a dangerous gleam began to develop in her eyes. She had reached Mystic, next was Ascendant, and then it would be time for blood.

She exited the room to find that a soldier was standing there, waiting for her with a folder in hand.

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asked, her voice naturally beginning to carry the command and influence that came with the Monarchs passive ability, not that it mattered. The soldier would have answered her anyway.

“I’ve been here since you went into retreat ma’am, though the mission I was holding to give to you has changed twice in that time. This is the latest one. It arrived this morning.”

Marilyn took the envelope and opened it, and found a kill order. How nostalgic.

“Would you happen to have updates about my husband and my son?” she asked, even though she knew he would.

The man handed her another folder. This one had more pages than even her actual mission.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep