Chapter 187: Getting Information

  The golden carpet soared steadily above the clouds, cutting through the cold wind as Abel and Stone continued their conversation.

  Abel still marveled at the sensation — the rush of air against his face, the vast sky stretching endlessly around them — but the words Stone had just spoken kept his mind locked in thought.

  “...Influenced?” Abel finally asked, his voice uncertain. “What do you mean?”

  Stone shifted slightly, adjusting his stance on the carpet.

  His presence felt unwavering, as if the turbulent winds didn’t dare disturb him. His gray and gold robe rippled gently as he turned his sharp gaze toward Abel.

  “The stars,” Stone said grimly. “They aren’t just distant bodies of light. They’re forces — ancient, powerful, and often... aware.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Apostles like you, with the star affinity, are rare because that power is elusive and... dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Abel’s eyes narrowed. “Because of the stars?”

  “Exactly,” Stone confirmed. “Once you reach a certain point — usually around mid-Apostle rank — you’ll begin to resonate with the stronger stars in the sky. At first, it may seem like a blessing — greater power, stronger techniques — but that’s when the influence begins. The stronger the star, the greater its pull. It’s not uncommon for star-affinity Apostles to fall into zealotry — worshiping these stellar entities as if they were gods.”

  Abel felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. “You’re saying... these stars are sentient?”

  “Not all of them,” Stone answered. “But some are... and their influence can consume you. The stronger stars don’t just grant power — they demand loyalty. They seep into your mind, twist your thoughts, and over time...” His voice dropped lower. “They drain away your starry prowess, siphoning the very power that should’ve been yours.”

  Abel’s chest tightened. The idea of some celestial force corrupting him — taking his power away without him realizing — was unsettling. “But... I haven’t felt anything like that.”

  Stone studied him closely. “That’s why you’re an anomaly,” he said. “Most apostles with your affinity start showing signs by this stage — dreams of distant lights, whispers during meditation, sudden urges to look toward the sky and worship. Yet you... seem unaffected.”

  Abel frowned, then remembered something. “Maybe it’s because of my mana pool, an ethereal star that isn’t from this world,” he said. “It’s from... somewhere else — an illusory world. I helped it escape from there. Since it doesn’t belong to this sky, it sits within me... separate from whatever influence the stars above might have.”

  Stone’s eyes widened, clearly intrigued. “An ethereal star from another world?” he muttered, more to himself than to Abel. “That’s... unusual.” He looked back at Abel. “If that’s true, it may be what’s shielding you. That star — whatever it is — acts like an anchor, protecting your foundation from corruption.”

  Abel felt a flicker of relief, but Stone’s expression turned serious again.

  “Even so,” Stone warned, “you can’t assume you’re safe forever. The world has a way of twisting things — especially when power is involved. Corruption doesn’t always come all at once... sometimes it creeps in, slow and quiet.”

  Abel clenched his fists. “So what should I do?”

  “Be aware,” Stone said simply. “Keep growing your power, strengthen your mental fortitude, and stay grounded. The moment you feel something pulling you toward the sky... fight it.” He let out a slow breath. “You’ve already proven you can resist corruption once. That’s a good sign — but never get complacent.”

  Abel absorbed the words, feeling a strange blend of confidence and unease. He had survived plenty already, and his ethereal star had always felt like a powerful yet gentle presence — distant, but loyal. Still, Stone’s warning lingered in his mind.

  “You’ve been fortunate so far,” Stone said, his voice calm but edged with warning. “But the stronger you become, the more your power will draw attention—from things far older and more dangerous than you can imagine. Ancient entities… tied to the origin of your very affinity. They watch. And sometimes… they whisper.”

  The golden carpet sailed smoothly through the sky, wind curling around them like a silent veil. Abel barely noticed. His thoughts twisted like stormclouds, replaying every word.

  “Affinity… tied to some kind of ancient being?” he muttered, almost under his breath.

  Stone’s gaze turned to him—sharp, heavy, unwavering. “That surprises you?”

  Abel’s eyes snapped up. “Of course it does. I thought affinities were… just mana. Energy shaped through training, meditation, and runes. Something we learn to master.”

  Stone’s lips curled faintly. Not quite a smile. “That’s what most believe. And for many, that belief is enough. But if you keep climbing—if you keep gathering runes, keep deepening your power—you’ll learn a truth most don’t survive long enough to grasp.”

  Abel felt a chill slide down his spine. “Then what am I really building? What am I strengthening?”

  “You’re inviting something in,” Stone said simply. “Every rune you absorb is more than a spell or a technique. It’s a fragment. A sliver of will—of power—left behind by an ancient entity. Some call them gods. Others, monsters. But they were here before us. Before mana itself was understood. They’re the original source… the living laws beneath your affinity.”

  Abel’s hand twitched slightly as if reacting to some unseen presence. “So every time I use my runes… I’m channeling one of those things?”

  “Not quite,” Stone replied. “You’re becoming a vessel. Each rune is a puzzle piece. And the more you gather, the more complete that image becomes—until one day, it may no longer be you in full control.”

  Abel swallowed hard. “And the mana core…?”

  Stone’s expression shifted—somber, reverent.

  “A mana core is not just a stronger mana pool. It is evolution. A reshaping of your very being. Where a mana pool channels power, a mana core generates it—woven from the essence of your runes, your will, and the echoes of the entity you’ve aligned with. You don’t just wield magic… you become it.”

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  He paused. “Imagine a village. Now imagine a continent. That is the difference in scale when it comes to the amount of mana these vessels can store.”

  Abel sat still for a long moment, the wind catching his cloak, his thoughts caught between wonder and dread. “That sounds… like something no one should be able to do.”

  “And yet, some do,” Stone said quietly. “But it’s not free.”

  He looked Abel directly in the eye. “The closer you come to forming a mana core, the more the entity tied to your affinity begins to recognize you. Some are dormant, long-forgotten. But they remember. They reach. They test you. Some Apostles are driven mad. Others vanish entirely. Their minds consumed. Their bodies twisted.”

  Abel’s face paled slightly. “So… corruption?”

  Stone nodded slowly. “Corruption. Possession. Influence. It wears many faces. Some apostles believe they are chosen, favored by their affinity, only to discover too late that they’ve simply been… absorbed.”

  The air grew heavy around them. Even the golden carpet seemed quieter, as if the skies themselves were listening.

  “Your path is rare,” Stone said. “You are star-affinity, and yet, you’ve resisted the pull. That’s not normal. That makes you valuable… but also dangerous. To others. And to yourself.”

  Abel clenched his fists gently on his lap, his gaze distant. “…Then I’ll just have to be stronger than whatever’s pulling at me.”

  Stone gave a short nod of approval. “That’s the right answer. Just don’t forget it when the whispers start.”

  Abel clenched his fists. "So... corruption is inevitable?"

  "Not inevitable," Stone corrected, "but always a threat. That’s why the human race aligned itself with the six core affinities — fire, water, earth, air, light, and darkness. The entities tied to these six affinities... seemed to pose the least risk. They were stable — less prone to madness or manipulation. Hence, over generations, rituals, prayers, and experiments had tainted a percentage of the human race to have traces of these affinities. Granting them the title of gifted."

  Abel’s mind drifted to his own star affinity. "But... my affinity isn’t one of those six."

  "Exactly," Stone said. "Your path is going to be harder... and riskier by definition, although your circumstance is different."

  Abel felt his stomach tighten. "Then... why keep using the star affinity at all if it will bring me danger?"

  Stone’s face softened slightly, as if sensing Abel’s turmoil. "Because power is power," he said. "The six affinities were chosen because they were the safest — but that doesn’t mean they’re the strongest." He gave a slight chuckle. "There’s a reason people like you are shunned — the potential your affinity holds is far beyond what most Apostles can achieve, if you're able to overcome the roadblocks."

  Abel nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind Stone’s words.

  "So..." Abel muttered. "I just have to... resist the influence? Avoid corruption?"

  "Yes," Stone confirmed. "But that’s not all. You’ll need to build your willpower — sharpen your mind and master your techniques. The more disciplined you are, the less likely corruption will take hold. The true test isn’t just surviving... it’s staying true to yourself, no matter how strong you become."

  Abel exhaled deeply, his thoughts swimming. He had fought hard for every scrap of power he had gained, but now it felt like he was staring at a mountain far steeper than he’d ever imagined.

  The golden carpet shifted slightly as Stone turned his gaze back toward the horizon. "This world is vast, Stargazer," he said quietly. "And power... true power... always comes with a price."

  The wind whispered through the sky as the golden carpet sailed onward, leaving a faint shimmering trail behind it.

  Abel processed everything Stone had said, feeling both enlightened and uneasy. The vastness of the world was starting to feel heavier than ever.

  “You said you weren’t close to your affinity’s origin,” Abel said, breaking the silence. “But you’re... you’re a Magian. Isn’t that pretty high up already?”

  Stone chuckled—a rare sound, light but tired. “It’s not as simple as that,” he said. “Every step forward only reveals more obstacles. The closer you get to the root of your affinity... the more powerful — and dangerous — the pull becomes. Corruption doesn't get weaker with strength... it grows sharper, more cunning.”

  Abel swallowed hard. "Sounds exhausting."

  "It is," Stone admitted. "But we don’t climb this mountain alone. People like us — apostles, Magians — we push forward not just for our own strength, but to pave a path for those behind us." He sighed. "It’s why Bask’s independence is so crucial. The more we break free from old systems, the better chance we have of surviving what’s to come."

  Abel’s curiosity flared. “Is that why so many people are branching away from the six affinities?”

  Stone’s face grew serious. “Maybe,” he said, voice low. “Or maybe it’s because they’ve grown desperate. In times of uncertainty, people grasp for whatever power they can find — no matter the risks.”

  “Do you think Bask is in danger?” Abel asked.

  Stone was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of clouds ahead. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But Bask’s independence has forced its us to fend for themselves — no kingdom to rely on, no outside armies to bail us out. Because of that, we'll have to push the boundaries of magic and power just to survive. Who knows…” He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll uncover new affinities — ones that don’t carry the same corruption.”

  Abel mulled over the idea. The notion that entire affinities could be discovered... it was exciting yet terrifying. What if some were worse than the known ones?

  The conversation lulled for a while, leaving Abel to stare at the horizon. The air was cold but crisp, and despite the tension of their conversation, the sight of clouds stretching like endless fields below them brought some comfort.

  Then, Stone spoke again. “The changes coming to Bask will be drastic,” he said. “The institutes, the officers... they’re going to be vital.”

  Abel’s brow furrowed. “How so?”

  “The institute heads are a powerful tool,” Stone explained. “With them in place, the burden on stationed Apostles will be reduced. Less time dealing with petty politics and more time for exploration, training, and research. Our focus can shift to things that actually matter — building power and defending this region properly.”

  Abel found himself nodding. “That’s... smart,” he admitted. “It makes sense.”

  Stone smirked faintly. “I know,” he said. “I came up with it.”

  Abel chuckled, but Stone’s mood shifted again, turning more serious.

  “Of course,” Stone added, “not everyone is thrilled about these changes. The nobles... they’re watching closely.”

  Abel’s smile faded. “The nobles?”

  Stone’s expression hardened. “They’ll resist this shift. Some of their ancestors still hold influence in the Central Continent, and even though the Central Continent and Bask have cut ties... they’re not powerless. Old blood still holds weight.”

  Abel frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means the families out here — the ones you’ve had problems with? They’re nothing,” Stone said bluntly. “The real power rests with those connected to the Central Continent. The ones who’ve maintained their wealth and influence quietly. If they decide to rally... they could be a serious threat for the people of Bask.”

  Abel’s thoughts went to Reinhart — the Bario family, the Cinco family... if they were the ‘weak’ nobles, what kind of monsters were the powerful ones?

  Stone continued, “Each of the towers has already lost at least a dozen apostles — people who’ve abandoned their positions to return to their noble families. They’re consolidating power somewhere... biding their time. Almost half of the big families. And when they make their move?”

  Stone’s gaze sharpened. “It won’t be a simple power struggle. They’ll come with resources, artifacts, and influence. They’re planning to exploit Bask’s instability — I’m sure of it. But at that time, we will be prepared.”

  Abel’s face tightened. “I haven’t had too much trouble with nobles... aside from the ones in Reinhart.”

  Stone shook his head. “Those people are insects,” he said flatly. “The true noble families of Bask? Their patriarchs are rank four Apostles — powerful enough to crush smaller towns with their presence alone. Your encounters so far are nothing compared to what they can do.”

  Abel exhaled deeply, the weight of Stone’s words sinking in. It wasn’t just monsters, parasites, or cultists they had to worry about — political manipulation, power struggles, and ambitious nobles were just as dangerous.

  “I’ll keep my guard up,” Abel said quietly.

  Stone gave a firm nod. “Good. Don’t underestimate them... because they won’t underestimate you.”