Chapter 244: Meetup

After that, the trio chilled and talked for a bit while longer and the wards were the last thing Albedo noticed as he left the clearing.

Not because they were loud or bright, but because they weren’t.

They remained steady, unwavering, humming softly in a way that spoke of absolute confidence. Luna’s work. Nymarielle’s restraint. Power so immense it no longer needed to announce itself.

That, more than anything else, lingered in his mind as he walked away.

The forest paths of the Academy grounds unfolded before him, dappled sunlight filtering through ancient canopies, birdsong cautiously resuming now that the pressure of a Leviathan’s aura had finally faded from the land.

Students moved in the distance, some practicing spells, others walking in groups, laughing, complaining, living.

It was normalcy, and after the past few months, this still felt foreign.

It felt… foreign.

Albedo exhaled slowly as he adjusted the strap of his coat across his shoulder.

Too quiet.

After everything he had been through, negotiations where a single wrong word meant annihilation, battles where the ground itself screamed beneath his feet, this peaceful stretch of Academy land felt almost unreal. Like a painted backdrop rather than something solid.

Behind him, footsteps approached.

“Leaving already?” Luna’s voice asked mildly.

He turned to find Professor Luna Evervale standing just beyond the clearing’s boundary, cloak drawn close, silver eyes sharp as ever. Beside her, Nymarielle hovered slightly above the ground, her presence subdued but unmistakable, like the ocean pretending to be a lake.

“I am,” Albedo replied. “Before I decide to do something irresponsible.”

Luna smiled knowingly. “That threshold passed long ago.”

Nymarielle clasped her hands together, tail swaying faintly behind her. “You are returning to your residence?”

“Eventually,” he said. “But first… I need to stretch.”

Luna’s brow rose. “Stretch.”

He nodded. “My body caught up to my soul faster than my instincts did. That’s dangerous. I want to fight something that doesn’t think.”

Nymarielle tilted her head. “A beast.”

“Several,” Albedo corrected. “Preferably ones that bite back.”

Luna regarded him for a long moment, then sighed. “You truly are incapable of resting.”

“I rest by moving,” he replied lightly.

Nymarielle hesitated, then spoke, her voice softer. “Be careful.”

He met her gaze. “I always am.”

That was a lie.

But it was the kind that only someone who survived as much as he had was allowed to tell.

Luna waved one hand dismissively. “Go. But if the southern forests begin screaming, I will assume it was you.”

“I’ll keep the screaming localized,” he promised.

Nymarielle smiled faintly. “Return safely.”

Albedo gave them both a nod, then turned and walked away, boots crunching softly against the forest path until the Academy’s protective perimeter faded behind him.

The wilds greeted him like an old friend.

No manicured paths. No quiet wards smoothing the edges of danger. Just dense forest, thick undergrowth, and the subtle but omnipresent sensation of mana flowing freely through the land, untamed, unregulated.

Albedo inhaled deeply and mana surged to meet him.

His body responded instantly. Muscles aligned, breath synced, senses sharpened until he could feel the minute vibrations of insects crawling along bark, hear distant wingbeats far beyond normal perception, taste the density of mana in the air.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. “Definitely need this.”

He stepped forward, and vanished. The forest blurred. Branches snapped as his foot struck a trunk at impossible speed, launching him forward like a bullet. He twisted midair, landed in a crouch, then pushed off again, speed escalating with each movement.

Faster.

Mana threaded through his muscles with frightening efficiency. No lag. No backlash. His body adapted on the fly, joints reinforcing, bones micro-adjusting to handle stress that would pulp lesser beings.

He laughed softly as the wind tore past his face.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

The first monster found him before he found it.

A shadow burst from the underbrush—a Dire Fang Boar, easily three meters long, tusks crackling with earth-aspected mana as it charged with a roar that shook leaves loose from the trees.

Albedo didn’t draw Havoc or Ruin.

He wanted to feel it.

The boar slammed into him.

The impact cratered the ground, and stopped. Albedo’s boots dug half a meter into the earth as he caught the beast by its tusks, muscles screaming pleasantly as raw force collided with raw force. The boar squealed, thrashing violently.

“Too slow,” Albedo murmured.

He twisted.

The boar’s own momentum betrayed it. With a grunt, Albedo lifted and threw the massive creature sideways. It crashed through trees like matchsticks, coming to rest in a cloud of dust and broken bark.

Albedo was already moving. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, leapt, and brought his heel down.

The ground exploded, but the boar didn’t.

The earth swallowed it whole, crushed beneath compressed force as Albedo landed lightly atop the newly formed crater.

He straightened, flexing his fingers.

“…Not enough.”

Further in, the wilds answered his challenge.

A Nightscale Stalker dropped from the canopy, claws glowing with venomous mana. A pack of Ash Wolves emerged from the mist, eyes burning with coordinated malice. A Stoneback Basilisk rose from a ravine, its gaze warping the air.

Good.

This time, Albedo drew Havoc and Ruin.

The pistols materialized with a familiar hum, their weight settling into his hands like extensions of his will.

“Let’s calibrate.”

The forest burned.

Time lost meaning.

Shots thundered, each round a precise marriage of destruction and control. Mana-laced bullets tore through monsters with surgical efficiency, detonating after penetration to minimize wasted force.

Albedo moved like a specter.

A slide beneath a basilisk’s petrifying gaze, a spin that carried him over a lunging wolf, and finally a point-blank discharge that shattered a Nightscale’s skull from the inside out.

All the while this was happening, Albedo was learning.

Adjusting angles. Testing recoil under enhanced reflexes. Measuring how much mana he could push through Havoc without destabilizing local flow.

When his pistols weren’t enough, he switched.

Infernal Mode.

Flames wrapped his frame, white-blue fire burning without heat as he charged

through a monster pack, fists shattering bone, kicks sending bodies flying.

Graviton Mode followed, gravity spiking around him as he crushed enemies into the ground with invisible pressure.

Execution Mode ended the last Basilisk.

One shot.

Silence followed.

Albedo stood amidst ruin—smoldering earth, fallen beasts, air thick with ozone and mana residue. His chest rose and fell slowly, but his expression was calm.

Balanced.

“…Much better,” he said.

That was when he felt it. An unnatural ripple. His eyes narrowed.

From beyond the ridge ahead came the unmistakable sensation of tainted mana, oily, corrosive, threaded with a familiar, hateful resonance.

Abyss.

Albedo straightened slowly.

“…Of course, just when I’m trying to relax a bit,” Albedo muttered as he moved toward it without hesitation.

The clearing beyond the ridge was smaller, choked with blackened earth and half-dead trees. A ritual circle scorched into the ground pulsed faintly, crimson lines writhing like living veins.

And standing at its edge, “Lucian?”

Lucian Arclight turned sharply, black hair whipping as green eyes locked onto Albedo.

For half a second, shock flickered across his face.

Then relief.

“Albedo!” Lucian called, lowering his weapon slightly. “Good timing.”

Beside him stood a woman Albedo was very familiar with.

“What’s going on here?” Albedo asked.

She gestured toward the corrupted circle, “Abyssal Worshippers. Third cell this week. They’re escalating.”

Lucian clenched his fist. “They’re trying to open something. Not a full gate, but an anchor.”

Albedo’s smile faded.

“…That’s bad.”

“Yes,” Raphaeline agreed. “Which is why, ”

She turned fully toward him, eyes sharp.

“I’m calling you in.”

Lucian grinned, already knowing the answer. “You in?”

Albedo glanced at the ritual circle, then at the treeline beyond, where faint shadows already began to move.

He holstered Havoc and Ruin with a slow, deliberate motion.

“…Looks like my monster hunt found me.”

He met Raphaeline’s gaze, power stirring beneath his calm exterior.

“Let’s clean house.”

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