Chapter 190: True Reward

  Hours had passed since Abel stepped foot in the ruins of his home.

  The image of twisted vines, decaying bones, and the cratered heart of his village refused to leave his mind.

  He sat quietly on the floating carpet beside Master Stone, his posture hunched, his eyes distant.

  The pain hadn’t dulled—it had simply settled deeper into him, curling around his soul like a cold iron chain.

  Stone glanced at him, saying nothing at first. But what he saw in Abel’s expression wasn’t just grief.

  It was fire.

  Then, for the first time since they’d departed, Abel spoke—his voice low, ragged with hurt.

  “Was it really the Noria family?”

  Stone didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  He sighed, his tone both weary and frank.

  “They’re not like most families. The Norias have always been... strange. Ruthless. They’ve maintained their power through centuries of control and bloodline manipulation. Killing off branch families or distant relatives? It’s not uncommon for them. To them, only the main bloodline matters. The rest are just… roots to be trimmed.”

  Abel’s jaw clenched. “Then I’ll kill them all. Every last one.”

  Stone didn’t flinch at the declaration—he’d heard such words before. Instead, he offered something more powerful than outrage. A calm, grounding truth.

  “I understand your pain, Abel. And your anger is justified. But don’t lose yourself in it.”

  His voice grew quieter.

  “Revenge is a fire. Left unchecked, it consumes the one who carries it. But harnessed… focused… it can become the forge that strengthens you. Let it drive your growth. Let it shape your discipline. But never let it blind you.”

  Abel stared at the clouds, his fists clenched. The ache in his chest wasn’t just sorrow—it was helplessness. And yet, he listened.

  “Where are they?” he asked, eyes narrow with resolve.

  Stone nodded slightly, as if expecting the question.

  “Their main estate lies in the north of the Central Continent. Far from here. Deep within the territory of the ancient powers. Their strength isn’t just influence—they possess numerous Rank 5 Apostles. Their patriarch is a Magian who… could rival me.”

  Abel’s breath hitched.

  Stone continued, somber now.

  “But that’s not the greatest barrier. Since the calamity, Bask was cut off. The land shifted. The sea widened. The distance between us and the Central Continent has grown vast. Not unreachable… but to cross it, you would need strength beyond even mine.”

  Abel lowered his head, his body tight with frustration—but not despair.

  He had suspected it. Deep down, he'd always known this was a possibility—that his village was gone, that his family’s fate was sealed. But preparing for pain didn’t dull it when it finally arrived.

  And now, the weight of his weakness pressed on him like gravity.

  “I’ll get there,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “One day. I’ll become strong enough to reach them.”

  Stone said nothing for a moment, watching him.

  Then, finally: “Good. Then start today. Let your sorrow shape your will. Let your rage carve the path forward. But walk it with purpose, Abel—not vengeance.”

  A few minutes passed, and above the clouds, the carpet continued its flight, carrying not just two figures, but the spark of something that would, one day, become a storm.

  The air was still, thin, and cold above the clouds—silent apart from the distant sound of wind brushing against the floating carpet. Abel hadn’t said a word since his declaration.

  His eyes remained downcast.

  Master Stone watched him for a while, then finally broke the silence.

  “You know… bringing you to see your village, it didn’t feel like enough.” His voice was low, thoughtful. “Not for the one who saved Bask.”

  Abel blinked, looking up slightly. “What?”

  “I have something else to give you,” Stone said, arms crossed behind his back as the wind tousled the edges of his long grey-gold robes. “A proper reward.”

  Abel wanted to feel surprised—grateful, even—but his heart was still anchored in the ruins of Duskton. All he could offer was a hollow, “...Thank you.”

  Stone didn’t push for more. He understood grief.

  “Many years ago,” Stone began, “a star fell from the heavens and landed in a remote stretch of Bask. It tore through the sky like a divine blade and embedded itself into the land. Most would have missed it… But not us. That kind of starry energy leaves scars. You’ll see when we get there—the land has changed. Overgrown now, yes, but the effects remain. I’ve left it untouched.”

  Abel’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of a fallen star. He turned his head slowly, mind still heavy, but a faint flicker of curiosity pierced the fog.

  “I want to see how you interact with it,” Stone continued. “How your mana pool reacts. The unique way of digesting them—and I’d like to observe it myself.”

  Abel nodded faintly, still subdued. “I wish I could feel excited... but it’s hard.”

  “I know,” Stone said gently. “It’ll come. In time.”

  They descended slowly, the clouds thinning, revealing the tops of tall pine trees dusted in frost.

  The wind grew colder and more biting. The terrain below was hilly and wild—untouched wilderness, the kind of place even time forgot.

  Stone glanced toward Abel again. “Tell me—do you know why it’s so difficult for a Rank 5 Apostle to become a Magian?”

  Abel shook his head. “Not really. I figured it was just… the next step. Rare, but natural.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Stone gave a chuckle. “It’s anything but natural. You see, when you reach Rank 5, you’ve gathered all your runes. But that’s not enough. To become a Magian, you have to unify them. You have to force your mana pool to evolve—reshape it into a mana core to hold the combined runes.”

  “A mana core…” Abel repeated, eyes narrowing. “That’s what separates them?”

  “Yes. A mana core is not just deeper than a mana pool—it’s another world entirely. Imagine a town compared to a continent. That’s the gap. And to create it, your runes must resonate, align. The closer in affinity they are, the smoother the process. But no matter how close they are, every Apostle must undergo one final trial.”

  “Malediction,” Stone said, voice suddenly heavier.

  Abel tilted his head. “Malediction?”

  “It’s the world’s way of rejecting you,” Stone said. “The moment you try to evolve, the world itself tries to tear you apart. Your mind, your body, your mana—it all turns against you. And no one can help. No potions. No artifacts. No healers. It’s a trial that must be faced alone.”

  Abel’s expression shifted—concern, awe, and respect blending together.

  “Why?”

  “Because you're stepping outside the natural order,” Stone answered. “You’re ascending. And the world... doesn’t like that. Malediction is different for everyone. It becomes a reflection of your journey, your runes, your regrets. It's deeply personal.”

  Abel was quiet again, digesting the weight of those words. The road ahead suddenly felt steeper—far more treacherous than he’d imagined.

  “I… never knew,” he murmured. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “You’d have found out sooner or later,” Stone said with a shrug. “Better to be prepared.”

  The carpet began to slow as the treetops gave way to a clearing below—a vast, crater-like indentation in the land surrounded by frosted pine and glowing moss. The air shimmered faintly above the clearing, and a strange pressure brushed against Abel’s skin.

  Stone looked ahead and simply said, “We’ve arrived.”

  And as they descended into the silence of the star’s resting place, Abel felt the fire in his chest, still burning from loss, begin to change.

  Not disappear.

  But shift.

  From grief… into purpose.

  The forest canopy thickened as they descended, the fading daylight quickly swallowed by the dense pines that loomed like watchful giants.

  Within moments, the world around them darkened—but the carpet beneath their feet began to glow with a soft golden light, casting a tranquil aura that shimmered through the shadows.

  They floated lower, deeper into the wilderness, until the trees gave way to a massive ravine.

  Carved into the land like a wound from the heavens, its edges were jagged and ancient, vines creeping along the stone like veins of time itself.

  Stone guided the carpet carefully into the ravine’s heart, the glow intensifying as they neared their destination.

  And then Abel saw it.

  At the base of the ravine lay a wide crater—smooth, flawless, untouched by time or decay.

  At its center floated a strange, glowing relic, shaped like a four-pointed star. It hovered just above the ground, its core pulsing with intense, radiant light, like a heart made of starlight.

  Around it, the air shimmered, dreamlike and unreal, as illusions of shooting stars danced across the vast cavern like whispers of another sky.

  Abel’s breath caught in his throat.

  Stone’s voice came gently from behind. “Go.”

  But Abel didn’t need convincing. His body had already begun to move, as if pulled forward by fate itself.

  Each step he took was guided not by conscious thought, but by something deeper—something ancient. The air grew heavier, not in pressure, but in meaning.

  His fingertips tingled. His chest thudded with excitement and fear.

  As he drew closer, the illusions of shooting stars began to orbit him. One. Then two. Then dozens—spinning slowly around his body in perfect silence, trailing delicate streams of stardust in their wake.

  It was like walking into a dream. Like becoming part of the sky.

  And then he touched it.

  The moment his fingers grazed the glowing star, the world seemed to stop.

  Abel's body lifted gently off the ground, weightless. Time slowed to a crawl. His eyes closed on instinct as he hovered in the air, legs folding beneath him into a meditative position.

  His arms rested calmly on his knees. His breathing slowed, then synced with something unseen, something vast and infinite.

  Stone watched from a distance, his stoic expression finally shifting into one of deep intrigue. “So this is how he does it…”

  Abel’s body began to hum.

  A radiant, white light gathered around him—subtle at first, then brilliant. The air trembled. His very presence seemed to blur the lines between reality and something beyond.

  The light intensified, enveloping him entirely until he became a silhouette within a growing sphere of pure starry brilliance. It wasn’t just light—it was presence, a pressure that hummed with celestial power.

  Then—

  Flash.

  A burst of light exploded outward, brighter than the sun yet gentle like moonlight. For a second, everything went white.

  And when it faded… only Abel remained, still floating above the ground.

  His body glowed faintly with soft star patterns, etched onto his skin like celestial tattoos. His eyes opened slowly, and Stone saw it—the transformation.

  Abel’s irises had become like floating starry dust. Swirling stars. Infinite depth. The sky had taken root inside him.

  He exhaled slowly, and as his feet touched the earth again, he stood taller—not in stature, but in spirit. He was still Abel.

  But something more.

  He could feel it. Power rushing through him, his mana pool not only expanded but also refined. Stabilized.

  His third rune now orbited his Ethereal Star, joining the previous two in a seamless spiral. The balance was perfect, harmonious, and full of promise.

  His body felt alive in a way he’d never known—his vitality surged, his perception sharpened, and even the flow of mana through his body felt more fluid, more obedient. More... his.

  He had become a Rank 3 Apostle.

  But it wasn’t just the rank.

  He had taken a step onto a higher path.

  A higher self.

  Abel slowly turned to look at Master Stone.

  For the first time since he’d met him, since the towering figure in gold and gray robes gave a speech in the tower, Abel saw a flicker of visible emotion on his face.

  Shock.

  Stone's eyes, usually unreadable and cold, were wide—his lips slightly parted, as if trying to make sense of what he’d just witnessed.

  “…You expelled all of it,” he muttered, more to himself than to Abel. “In a single burst. That… shouldn’t be possible.”

  He took a step forward, brows furrowed in rare curiosity. “Even the lingering corruption from before… gone. Dissolved as if it were nothing. This wasn’t just a breakthrough, Abel. It was a cleansing. A purge. Something more.”

  Abel stood still, breath calm, his body gently glowing with starlight.

  His connection to his own power felt more intimate, more responsive, like a conversation with a friend rather than the pull of a wild force.

  “I think… It’s my first rune,” Abel said quietly, almost reverently, eyes tracing the shifting lights in the air. “Stellar Burst. The one formed with the Ethereal Star I brought back from the illusory world. I think… It’s tied to this.”

  Stone was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he murmured. “You are an anomaly… more than I anticipated. And more valuable than you realize.”

  He crossed his arms, still gazing at Abel like one might look at an artifact of lost power.

  “You may reach the Magian realm faster than most—if,” he said with weight, “you can continue to carry that burden and not lose yourself along the way.”

  Abel’s glowing eyes met his. “I understand.”

  Stone’s gaze softened for a breath, and then he let out a slow, thoughtful exhale. “But I will not give you everything, Abel. Not now. That kind of hand-holding only breaks a person before their true trial. The Malediction must be faced alone—and if you cannot overcome the storms ahead, you will never endure it. Every strength has its price.”

  Abel nodded slowly, grounding himself. “I was lucky this time.”

  Stone gave him a wry look, something between amused and impressed. “Luck…” he said, almost wistfully, “is a skill too. One born from preparation, instinct, and will. Fortune favors the prepared, Abel. Don’t discount your part in earning it.”

  Then, as the white-gold glow of the ravine dimmed slightly and silence settled again, Stone gestured toward the floating carpet nearby.

  “Come,” he said. “Feel out your new power on the way. Test your limits. We’re late to Bask City… and the most influential people in the country will be watching.”

  Abel cast one last look over the now quiet crater.

  He stepped onto the carpet, starlight still trailing from his cloak.

  The sky welcomed him once again.