Before heading out, I should stock up on supplies with the one gold coin I have. I need to ask Elvira where to go.
Vergil retraces his steps to where he last saw Elvira and finds her seated on a worn wooden bench, her gaze fixed on the sky as if lost in thought. As he approaches, she turns her head slightly, acknowledging his presence before he even speaks.
"Elvira, it's me," he says, stopping a few steps away. "Do you know where I can buy some supplies?"
She studies him for a moment before responding. "That depends on what you're looking for. If it's basic provisions—food, clothes, or tools—the general store down the main road will have what you need. But if you're after something more... specialized, like poisons and elixirs, there's a shop just to the right."
Vergil nods. "That sounds more like what I need. Thanks."
Elvira's lips press into a thin line. "Be careful with that place. The old man running it, Osric, isn't just a merchant. He's a master of his craft, but he enjoys toying with people. Make sure you leave with what you actually paid for."
With that advice in mind, Vergil follows her directions, soon arriving at a small, worn-down shop. A wooden sign above the entrance reads Osric's Oddities and Elxirs in faded, curling letters. A faint, almost metallic scent lingers in the air as he steps inside.
Inside the elixir emporium
The shop is dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves brimming with bottles of various shapes and sizes. Potions that shimmer with unnatural light, flasks filled with dark, swirling liquids, and rare concoctions claiming to enhance strength, intelligence, or even lifespan—all neatly arranged in an almost obsessive order.
Behind a worn wooden desk sits an old man, hunched over a delicate glass vial, his gnarled fingers tracing its rim absentmindedly. His skin, weathered like ancient parchment, is lined with deep wrinkles, each one a silent testament to the years he has spent among bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Wisps of thinning silver hair frame his sunken face, and his mismatched eyes—one a murky gray, the other a piercing amber—gleam with a mixture of wisdom and mischief.
His robe, a patchwork of deep blues and faded golds, is stained with remnants of past brews, each mark a forgotten experiment. He moves slowly, deliberately, as if the weight of time itself bends around him. The scent of crushed herbs, mixed with something faintly acrid, clings to him like a second skin.
Then he speaks, his voice a raspy yet measured tone that carries both amusement and warning.
"Ah, a new face," he muses, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "Welcome to the my abode. The name's Osric. Now, tell me—what is it you seek?"
"I'm looking for a paralysis potion," Vergil says. "Something to coat my weapon with."
Osric's smirk deepens, his amber eye gleaming with interest. "A man who knows the value of an unfair fight. I respect that." He leans back slightly, tapping his fingers on the desk. "For an E-rank monster, a single bottle will run you 30 silver."
Vergil nods. "And what about an E-rank health potion?"
Osric hums in thought before responding. "Now, that's a different matter. Restoring life is far trickier than taking it. That'll be 60 silver per bottle."
Vergil considers his options before making his decision. "I'll take one of each."
The old man chuckles, reaching behind the counter. He produces two small glass bottles—one filled with a dark green liquid, the other a shimmering red. "A wise purchase," he says as he sets them down. "But be mindful with that paralysis potion. Use too much, and you may find yourself frozen alongside your enemy."
Vergil hands over the silver, and a sudden notification appears before his eyes.
[System Notification: Inventory Unlocked]
You currently have a storage capacity of 20 items. Additional space can be unlocked using Astralyth stones or other rare materials.
I'll store the potions in my inventory for now. It's safer than carrying them around, and I'll keep my dagger on me—pulling it out of storage mid-fight would take too long.
With his supplies secured, Vergil decides to return to Elvira before heading out. I barely know anything about this world. I need information, and understanding what's happening right now could give me an edge.
When he arrives, Elvira is still seated on the bench, though this time she watches him approach with a knowing look.
"We meet again," she says. "Did you need something else?"
Vergil hesitates before answering, "I want to know more about the world."
She raises an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you already know that?"
His expression darkens slightly. "I lost my memories. When I came to, I was already here."
Elvira watches him closely, as if weighing the truth of his words. Finally, she sighs. "Poor soul," she murmurs. "That explains a few things." She gestures toward her home. "Come inside. If you're to survive in this world, you need knowledge."
Vergil follows her inside. The moment he steps through the door, he takes in his surroundings. The house carries an air of warmth and quiet resilience. To the side, several tall bookshelves stand filled with worn tomes and faded scrolls, their spines cracked from years of use. A sturdy wooden table sits in the center of the room, flanked by two simple chairs. In the far corner, a stone hearth crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the walls. A single cushioned chair, slightly worn, rests near the fire—a place where someone had clearly spent countless nights lost in thought.
"Sit down, Vergil," Elvira instructs, motioning to the chair opposite her.
He complies, settling himself as she moves to one of the bookshelves. Selecting an aged tome, she returns to the table, carefully opening it and turning it towards him. The pages reveal an intricately drawn map, lines and markings indicating territories, kingdoms, and regions unknown to him.
Her finger traces northward as she begins her explanation. "This world isn't kind to those who walk blindly," she says. "So listen well."
"Let us begin with the Huanglong Dominion, renowned for its martial artists, pill refiners, and array masters. Martial artists strive for absolute strength and seek longevity. Pill refiners craft elixirs from rare ingredients to enhance cultivation, while array masters weave formidable barriers, which can serve offensive, defensive, and supportive purposes.
At the heart of Huanglong lies its capital, Tiansheng. The current ruler, the Heavenly Dragon Emperor, Huang Tianlong, has governed for centuries. He has three children—Jinyang, Zhenlong, and Lian hua. Jinyang, the eldest, is thirty-four, whereas Lianhua, the youngest, is merely sixteen. However, great controversy arose two years ago when the emperor, now on his deathbed, declared Lianhua as his successor."
Vergil leaned forward, intrigued. "A princess as the heir? That alone would incite unrest, let alone the fact that she is the youngest. The emperor must be mad—unless she possesses exceptional talent."
Elvira nodded. "Indeed. The emperor, despite living for over twenty thousand years, was unable to break through the spirit king stages. His decision to name Lianhua as his successor stems from her extraordinary potential—despite only six years of cultivation, she has already reached the Boneforging Realm."
Vergil's eyes narrowed. "And do her brothers accept this arrangement?"
"Hardly," Elvira said with a knowing look. "Though they have yet to act publicly, there is no doubt that they are plotting her downfall."
Elvira shifted her finger to a medium-sized continent on the map.
"The next empire bordering the Huanglong Dominion is Thaelon, the Kingdom of Magic and Knowledge, located in the northeast. It is a land rich with enchanted forests, home to magical elementals and even dungeons. This is where magicians are born and nurtured. Magicians in Thaelon are classified into two primary types: spirit mages and elemental mages. Additionally, the kingdom is renowned for producing Brewers."
Vergil raised an eyebrow. "Brewers?"
"Brewers are essentially potion makers. They specialize in crafting tonics, healing elixirs, and various other magical concoctions. You have already met Osric, have you not?" Elvira asked.
"Yes, I have," Vergil confirmed with a nod.
"Let us move on," Elvira continued. "At the very edge of the continent, bordering the sea, lies the capital, Elunthor. The city was strategically built atop the Leyline Nexus, a concentrated source of exceptionally dense mana that serves as the foundation of its power. Unlike other kingdoms, Thaelon does not have a singular ruler. Instead, it is governed by a council composed of the strongest and most erudite mages, each specializing in different schools of magic. The head of this council is Archmage Zaetharion Vaedros, a formidable practitioner of space-time magic and a Rank 8 magician."
She paused before adding, "Currently, he mentors two exceptionally talented disciples, both sixteen years old—Veltharia Aelthorne, who specializes in spatial magic, and Arieth Valcryia, a magic swordsman with a natural affinity for fire magic.Although there is nothing currently happening."The Arcane Tournament of Thaelon was announced last year and will be a grand event held in 4 years time, drawing combatants from every kingdom. Apparently the reward is a legendary artifact."
Elvira then directed her attention to the continent across the sea from Thaelon.
"To the east lies the Sky Kingdom, a land of floating islands, towering mountain ranges, and expansive plateaus. The region is characterized by strong winds and unpredictable weather patterns. The kingdom is best known for producing exceptional wind mages and skilled engineers. Its capital, Zephyrion, is a massive fortress that houses the Sky Nexus, the powerful force responsible for keeping the islands and the royal stronghold afloat.
The kingdom is ruled by the Wind Monarch, who governs with the counsel of the Sage Council, a group of esteemed advisors overseeing the nation's affairs. The current Wind Monarch, Zephandrel Stormrune, has ruled for the past twenty years and holds the distinction of being the youngest monarch to ascend the throne. His disciple, Vaelric Stormveil, is the newest Stormchosen, blessed by the Sky Nexus itself."
Vergil raised an eyebrow. "Stormchosen?"
Elvira nodded. "Yes, it is a rare blessing granted by the Sky Nexus, greatly enhancing the recipient's magical abilities and control over wind and storm magic to an extraordinary degree. It also renders them highly resistant to wind and storm-infused attacks.
This is all that is publicly known, though it is highly likely that the blessing possesses additional, undisclosed effects."
Elvira extended her aged hand, pointing toward the southeastern lands of Eternia. Her sharp eyes, still holding wisdom despite her years, traced the distant horizon.
Elvira: "Beyond Thaelon, to the southeast, lies Aurelia—the Holy Kingdom of Light."
She took a slow breath before continuing, her voice steady.
Elvira: "A land of towering white spires, radiant cathedrals, and cities bathed in divine energy. Aurelia is a theocracy, ruled by faith as much as by power. The people worship the Goddess of Light with unwavering devotion, believing her blessings bring order and prosperity. But do not mistake this devotion for peace. Faith is a weapon as much as it is a shield."
Vergil listened intently, arms crossed. A theocracy, yet there was tension beneath the surface—he could hear it in her tone.
Vergil: "If faith rules, then tell me—who truly wields the power? The royal family, said to be blessed by the Goddess herself, or the church that speaks in her name?"
Elvira's expression darkened slightly, as if the question carried weight.
Elvira: "Aurelia is ruled by the High Pontiff, the so-called voice of the Goddess in the mortal realm. The church controls every aspect of life—religion, law, and even the military. But the royal family is not without power. Their bloodline is sacred, blessed with divine light that no priest can command."
She turned her gaze back to the horizon, her voice growing quieter.
Elvira: "Yet, ten years ago, the Princess of Light—the direct descendant of the godess of light—vanished during the First Demon War in the human world. Without her, the church has slowly taken more power, pushing the royal family into the shadows. The High Pontiff and his council see this as an opportunity, a chance to reshape Aurelia in their own vision."
Vergil frowned slightly, his gaze narrowing.
Vergil: "And what kind of man is this High Pontiff? A ruler of faith... or a man of ambition?"
Elvira's lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. She took a moment before answering, as if carefully choosing her words.
"The High Pontiff is a man of conviction. Whether that conviction is rooted in true faith or something more… self-serving, I cannot say. What I do know is that under his rule, the power of the church has grown like never before."
She gestured toward the distant land beyond the horizon, where Aurelia's holy capital, Solara, stood in all its divine splendor.
"The Grand Cathedral of Light rises at its heart, a testament to his authority. From there, the High Pontiff governs not just religious affairs but the kingdom's laws, its armies, and even its noble houses. He claims to uphold the will of the Goddess, yet in his shadow, whispers of control and manipulation spread."
Vergil's eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"And what of Aurelia's military? A kingdom that enforces its will through faith must have the means to do so."
Elvira nodded, her tone sharpening.
"Indeed. Aurelia boasts one of the most formidable divine armies in Eternia, forged in both faith and steel. It is divided into three primary orders, each serving a distinct purpose."
She held up three fingers, listing them one by one.
"The Radiant Templars—Aurelia's strongest holy knights. Clad in divine-infused armor, wielding weapons blessed by the Goddess herself, they stand as the kingdom's first and greatest line of defense against demonic threats."
Her finger lowered.
"The Inquisition—ruthless, relentless. They are the hunters of heretics, demons, and all who would oppose the church's will. Where the Templars fight wars, the Inquisition ensures absolute control within Aurelia's borders. Their methods are… not for the faint of heart."
Her expression darkened as she lowered the last finger.
"And then there is the Seraphic Guard—a force unlike any other. They are the personal protectors of the royal family, bound not to the church, but to the bloodline itself. Their warriors possess wings of divine energy, a sign of their sacred duty. Yet, without the Princess of Light, their influence has waned. They remain loyal to the royal family, but how long can loyalty endure when the church seeks to erase them from power?"
Vergil exhaled slowly, processing the weight of her words. The power struggle was clear—faith and nobility, church and crown, all vying for dominance beneath the gaze of their Goddess.
"A kingdom at war with itself, whether it admits it or not."
Elvira gave a grim nod.
"Faith unites, but it also divides. Those who stray from the church's path are cast aside. To the people of Aurelia, faith is everything—without it, one is nothing."
She paused, then added in a quieter tone.
"And yet… not all who serve the Goddess agree with the High Pontiff's rule. There are whispers of those who still believe in the royal family's divine right. Those who remember what Aurelia was before ambition tainted its faith."
Vergil's gaze flickered with intrigue.
"Rebels within the holy kingdom… interesting. Tell me, where does this kingdom's true strength lie? In its faith? In its warriors? Or in the shadows where defiance grows?"
Elvira chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it.
"That, young one, is a question even the Goddess may struggle to answer."
"It appears the High Pontiff's influence has grown considerably since the disappearance of the Princess of Light. His rise in power is too convenient to be mere coincidence. At the very least, it suggests he may have had a hand in her vanishing."
"A possibility, perhaps… but without proof, one can only speculate." She sighed
"But anyway let's move on"
She then gestured toward a small country in the east on the map.
"Verithar, the Hidden Kingdom of the Void."
"The Kingdom of Verithar is completely unknown to the world, sealed behind a vast Void Barrier that conceals its very existence. No records, myths, or even whispers speak of it. Not even the most powerful beings in Eternia possess knowledge of its presence."
"That is highly unusual," Vergil observed, his gaze sharpening as he considered the broader implications. "Would they not seek trade and resources from other nations?"
"They once did. However, eight years ago, all contact was abruptly severed. Since then, there has been nothing—no emissaries, no signs of life. Whether they are embroiled in internal strife or preparing for something far more ominous remains uncertain. Whatever the reason, it does not bode well."
With a sigh, Elvira lifted a finger and tapped the westernmost region of the map, where jagged mountains and vast plains marked the borders of a kingdom forged in blood and steel.
"Soldara," she said, her voice steady. "The mightiest kingdom in the west. A land where strength is law, and the sword is the only ruler that matters. Unlike other kingdoms tangled in bloodlines and politics, Soldara is ruled by one truth—whoever is the strongest commands the throne. And no one dares to challenge the current king."
Her finger drifted deeper into Soldara's borders, stopping at a single name etched into the parchment.
"Raelgard Vaelstryx. The Unbroken Blade."
The fire crackled louder, as if the name itself carried weight.
"He seized the throne with his own hands, cutting down every challenger who stood before him. His mastery of the sword is unparalleled—he has conquered every technique, every style, every battlefield. His rule is absolute because no one in Soldara has the power to deny him. And yet..." She hesitated, her voice dropping to a quieter tone.
Vergil's sharp gaze flickered toward her. "And yet?"
Elvira's finger moved across the map to a different mark—a desolate valley, its name burned into history.
"The Ten Thousand Sword Grave."
Silence stretched between them.
"Soldara's greatest treasure," she murmured. "A graveyard of warriors, a monument to every swordsman who reached the pinnacle of their craft. But more than that, it is a legacy. The swords buried there hold not just steel, but knowledge—techniques, styles, the very essence of battle itself. And hidden within its depths lies something even greater: the final technique, a sword art said to transcend mortality itself. A technique that no one has ever mastered."
The fire flickered, shadows dancing along the map's surface.
Vergil's expression remained unreadable, but his eyes never left the name of the grave. "Not even Raelgard?"
Elvira shook her head. "Not even him. He has conquered the grave, claimed its power, and wields the techniques of fallen legends. But the final technique… it eludes him. Not because he lacks the strength, but because it demands something more than just power."
A pause. Then, a small, knowing smile touched her lips.
"That is why he has taken a disciple."
Vergil's fingers stilled on the map.
"A boy of sixteen. Young, arrogant, but gifted beyond reason. Raelgard believes that, in time, this boy may be the one to inherit everything—including the final technique of the Ten Thousand Sword Grave. If that day comes, then Soldara's blades will grow even sharper… and the world will tremble."
The fire crackled once more, filling the silence between them.
Vergil remained quiet, his gaze lingering on the map, the weight of her words sinking in.
"So, who is his disciple?" Vergil asked, breaking the silence.
Elvira's gaze remained on the map as she answered.
"Kieran Drayven—the disciple of Raelgard Vaelstryx." She paused for a moment before continuing. "At just 16 years old, he has already reached the level of a 4-star aura user, a feat unheard of in history. Most warriors do not attain 3 stars until their twenties, and reaching 4 stars typically takes until at least 25 and thats geniuses. Yet, he has defied all expectations. In terms of raw talent and power, there is no one his age who can rival him."
Elvira traced her finger over the western region of the map, her expression unreadable. "Tensions are rising in Soldara," she said, her voice calm but firm. "For years, the western borders have been stable, but now… there are signs of something brewing."
Vergil remained silent, listening intently as she continued.
"Patrols have gone missing. Outposts have been found burned to the ground. No one has claimed responsibility, but the Sword Sovereign has begun to move. Elite legions are being mobilized, and the kingdom's top generals have been summoned to the capital."
She tapped the map near Soldara's borders. "This is what we call the Blademarch—when the Sword Kingdom prepares for war."
Vergil's eyes narrowed. "So, war is inevitable?"
Elvira exhaled slowly. "Not yet. Raelgard Vaelstryx is not a man who acts recklessly. But if provoked further, Soldara will not hesitate to strike."
She glanced at Vergil before adding, "And then, there's Kieran Drayven."
Vergil raised an eyebrow. "The Sword Sovereign's disciple?"
Elvira nodded. "The youngest 4-star aura user in history. His talent alone is enough to shake the balance of power. Some believe Raelgard will send him to the frontlines as a show of strength. If that happens…" She trailed off, letting the weight of her words settle in the air.
Vergil crossed his arms. "Then the world will have no choice but to acknowledge him."
Elvira met his gaze. "And Soldara will sharpen its blade for war."
Elvira's finger hovered over the western border of Soldara, then moved slightly beyond it. "The most likely conflict will be against the Drakoryan Clans."
Vergil's expression remained neutral, but his eyes sharpened. "Drakoryan?"
Elvira nodded. "A powerful warrior culture that controls the rugged lands west of Soldara. They aren't a unified nation like ours—rather, they're a collection of clans, each ruled by their own warlords. Normally, they fight among themselves, but recently… something has changed."
Her finger tapped a spot on the map. "They've begun pushing east, raiding villages near the border. At first, it was small skirmishes—quick attacks that left little evidence. But now, Soldaran outposts are being destroyed outright, their warriors cut down with brutal efficiency."
Vergil frowned. "And the Sword Sovereign hasn't retaliated?"
Elvira shook her head. "Not yet. Raelgard isn't the type to be goaded into action. But Soldara's patience isn't endless. If the Drakoryan Clans continue their aggression, the Sword Kingdom will respond. And when they do…"
She let the thought hang in the air before finishing, "It won't be a mere border conflict. It will be war."
Vergil's gaze flickered back to the map. "And Kieran Drayven?"
Elvira exhaled. "If war does break out, it will be his first true test. And if he survives…" she paused, her tone grave, "he won't just be the Sword Sovereign's disciple anymore. He'll be something much greater."
ra tapped her cane against the ground, her gaze steady as she pointed to a small, remote island in the southwest.
"That island is home to the Dwarven Kingdom, built around the greatest mystery of all—the Primordial Flame. For centuries, blacksmiths have believed it holds the key to forging the ultimate weapon, a fire so pure and powerful that it could create something beyond imagination."
She let out a slow breath, her voice carrying the weight of history.
"Many have tried to harness its power. Some of the finest smiths in history have stood before it, thinking they could control it. But no blade, no armor, no artifact has ever been forged from the Primordial Flame. The moment anyone reaches for it, they are reduced to nothing, gone before they can even lift a hammer."
Her grip on her cane tightened slightly.
"The Forgeking is the only one permitted to stand near it, but even he does not dare to use it. The flame remains untouched, waiting. Whether it was gifted by the gods or is something far beyond our understanding, no one truly knows. But one thing is certain—whoever masters that fire… will change the world forever."
Vergil crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "So it's just sitting there? All that power, and no one has ever been able to use it?"
Elvira gave him a knowing look. "Power like that isn't simply taken, boy. It chooses who is worthy. And so far, it has chosen no one."
Vergil smirked, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Then maybe it's waiting for someone like me."
Elvira chuckled, shaking her head. "Ambition is good, but don't mistake fire for warmth. The Primordial Flame does not grant second chances."
"I wonder if predation will work on it, it might be worth checking out," he thought to himself
She let the words settle before shifting her hand eastward, her finger coming to rest upon a different region. "And here," she continued, "is where we stand—Vaeloria, the Neutral Kingdom."
Her fingertip circled Vaelithor, the capital, before she spoke again. "Unlike the kingdoms of kings and emperors, Vaeloria follows no sovereign. It stands apart, untouched by divine mandates or royal bloodlines. We do not seek war, nor do we bow to power. Instead, we exist as a sanctuary for those who wish to forge their own path, free from the chains of politics and conquest."
Vergil studied the map, his gaze sharp. "A nation without a ruler. That is either bold or reckless."
Elvira gave a knowing smile. "It is neither. Vaeloria is not ruled by birthright, but by merit. The Council governs—composed of the strongest minds, the most capable warriors, and those whose wisdom has been tested by fire. Leadership here is earned, not inherited. One's worth is measured not by name, but by what they can achieve."
She gestured to a mark just outside the capital.And this is the Academy of Hunters. Unlike the institutions of other kingdoms, it does not limit itself to a single discipline. Mages, aura users, divine warriors, and Yuan Qi cultivators train together, refining their craft. The most gifted young prodigies from across Eternia come here, drawn by the academy's reputation, And in just two months, all the aforementioned prodigies from the other kingdoms will begin their studies there, undertaking rigorous training for a duration of two years.
Now for the final continet, she mentioned with a sigh, pointing to north beyond the huanglkng sea to a massive continent as big as the 9 kingdoms.
Elvira's finger hovered over the vast, darkened landmass across the sea, her expression unreadable.
"This is the Demonic Continent," she said. "Once the heart of their empire, where demons ruled without opposition. But after the Demon War ended ten years ago, they retreated—disappearing into the depths of their cursed land. Since then, nothing has been heard from them. No attacks, no sightings, nothing."
Vergil crossed his arms. "So they're gone?"
Elvira gave a slow shake of her head. "Gone? No. Silent? Yes. And that silence is what unsettles me most. Some believe the demons are simply biding their time, recovering their strength before they strike again. Others say their retreat wasn't by choice—that something forced them into hiding."
Her fingers traced back toward Eternia's main continent, stopping at unmarked regions of wilderness. "And then there are the whispers… of shadows moving in the dark, of people vanishing without a trace. Some claim that remnants of the demons never truly left, that they still walk among us—hiding, waiting."
She looked up at Vergil, her voice quieter now. "We may have won the war, lad, but tell me—can you ever truly kill the darkness?"
Vergil leaned forward, his eyes reflecting a contemplative glint as he stated, "Light and darkness are two sides of the same coin, for both reside within the heart of every human. We carry our own angels and demons—so tell me, how can one ever truly destroy the darkness?"
Elvira regarded him for a moment before nodding approvingly. "You have a sharp mind, young man. Hold on to that wisdom—one day, it may be the only thing that keeps you standing."
"I'll remember that," he said.
"I should get going now," he added, rising from his chair.
"Their is one more thing I do need to explain before you go. Tears
Tears." Vergil eyes furrowed
"Tears are usually, temporary releasing small amount of monsters. However some are permanent. They lead to other worlds. Fallen worlds to be more precise, they sometimes release armies if they aren't dealt quick enough. They are ranked from tier 0 to tier 7, its getting late so ill tell you the rest another time.
Elvira gave a small nod. "Take care, Vergil. If you ever need help, you're always welcome back for more guidance."
"Thanks, Elvira."
As Vergil stepped outside, a notification popped up in his system.
[System Notification: Relationship with the Retired Mage Elvira increased to ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (2 Stars)]
"Two stars?" he muttered.
"Yes. Your responses gave her a better understanding of your personality, pushing it to one star. But your final answer to her questionwas the key to reaching two stars."
'Wait didn't it say retired mage, on the confidants section, maybe i should asked for some knowledge related to mana when my relationship hits a level of deep trust l, asking now may raise suspicions of how I knew.'
Now should we make our way to the forest.