Three days had passed.
Kael knelt alone in the courtyard, the morning mist coiling low around him. His eyes were closed, breath slow, steady. Mana pulsed faintly beneath his skin like a second heartbeat.
Then—without warning—it erupted.
A surge of energy burst from his core, rippling outward. Leaves stirred. Dust danced. The earth hummed beneath him.
Kael slowly stood, exhaling as he raised his hand toward a nearby stone.
A soft blue glow gathered at his palm, swirling tighter and brighter until it formed a concentrated sphere.
His voice rang out through the stillness—
"Arcanum Vortex!"
The spell launched, whistling through the air. It struck the boulder—and boom.
The rock exploded, fragments spraying in every direction.
Without hesitation, Kael drew a breath, calm in the chaos.
"Mana Dome."
A shimmering shield snapped into place around him just in time. The shards pelted the dome harmlessly before falling to the ground.
Silence returned.
Kael lowered his arms, chest heaving.
Then he laughed—wild, exhilarated, almost unhinged.
"haha...haha..HAHAHA"
"Finally…" he whispered. "Rank Two."
Behind a thicket of tall hedges, just beyond the courtyard's edge, two figures crouched in silence.
Riven and Lira.
The siblings had been staying at the Duke's estate ever since Kael had saved them—though neither truly understood why he had.
Gratitude ran deep… but unease ran deeper.
Lira reached out and gently covered her younger brother's eyes.
"Don't look," she whispered.
Riven, curious but used to her protectiveness, muttered, "Is Sir Kael… mad again?"
Lira didn't answer right away. She watched Kael in the courtyard as the last fragments of the shattered boulder settled on the stone floor.
"No," she said quietly. "This time… it's worse."
Kael hadn't noticed them. Or maybe he had. Maybe he simply didn't care.
The two remained hidden, the bush rustling faintly in the breeze.
Then, with practiced ease, Riven pulled out a small, leather-bound diary.
Lira handed him a charcoal stick.
They wrote today's date at the top of the page.
Riven scribbled in uneven handwriting:
"Sir Kael blasted a rock… then laughed like a madman."
Lira stared at the fresh entry, lips pressed into a thin line.
Above it, previous entries cluttered the page—each more unsettling than the last.
"Today again, Sir Kael polished that stone.""Black. Oval-shaped. He kept muttering something.""Laughing.""Kissed it. Then polished it again."
She sighed quietly, fingers tightening around the diary's spine.
The courtyard was quiet again, but the air felt wrong.
Lira glanced once more through the hedge, watching Kael standing alone, his eyes distant, his breath steady—but too calm.
Riven looked up at her. "Do we tell someone?"
Lira shook her head.
"Not yet."
They closed the book together.
Soon, Selene appeared at the edge of the courtyard.
She paused, then glanced toward the bushes where Riven and Lira hid. Without a word, she covered her eyes with one hand, a small smile playing on her lips.
Riven and Lira, sensing her presence, immediately covered their own eyes in return.
Selene stepped forward and carefully placed a tray on the ground—a delicate porcelain cup of tea and a folded newspaper beside it.
Then, without breaking eye contact with Kael, she leaned in and kissed him softly.
Kael smiled back, the shadow of something darker flickering behind his calm eyes.
He reached for the tea and, settling down, unfolded the newspaper. His voice was steady as he began reading aloud, the words drifting quietly in the warm morning air.
Selene watched him for a moment, then asked softly,
"Why don't you say anything to those two?"
Kael's smile deepened, amused.
"Just leave them be. It'll be more fun that way."
Selene smiled softly, her eyes bright with pride.
"Congratulations on successfully reaching Rank Two."
Kael nodded in acknowledgment.
"Thanks."
Moments later, Kael opened his system—an ethereal interface only he could see.
###
[Conqueror's System]
[Name: Kaelion Drenlor.]
[Rank: 2]
[Title: Certified Treacherous Bastard, Veiled Serpent Member]
[Race: Human]
[Affiliation: House Drenlor (Kingdom of Velmora)]
[Rank: Noble – 3rd Son of the Duke (Duchy of Velmora)]
[Talents : Horse Riding: (D), Swimming: (E), Swordsmanship: (C) Mana Control: (SSS)]
[Spells(3/7) : Moon Blade ( Rank 1), Arcanum Vortex (Rank 2),
Mana Dome( Rank 2)]
[Relics: Dreamweaver(Soul-Bound ), Nortic Mask (Rank 8)]
[Familiar Spirit: Yue]
[Familiar Beast: ####]
[Primary Objective: Claim the Duchy !!
Reward: Rank 4 Spell – 'Crimson Veil']
[Curse: Godbreaker's Mark]
###
A soft chime echoed in Kael's mind—clear, resonant, like a bell ringing in a dream.
[Congratulations, Host, for advancing to Rank Two.]
[Skill Unlocked: Dreamweaver – Second Form.]
[Description: The user may now mark targets of equal or lower rank. Marked individuals can be pulled into the Dreamless Realm from any distance, at will.]
Kael stared at the glowing message suspended in front of him, its faint pulse casting flickers of light across his face.
Something shifted in his eyes—quiet, calculating.
Without a word, he reached out and took Selene's hand.
She blinked. "Kael?"
He didn't respond. Just closed his eyes, thought, and watched.
A soft shimmer bloomed on the back of her hand, like frost catching moonlight. The mark appeared, flickered once, then vanished into her skin.
"What was that?" she asked, brows furrowing.
"Just… don't panic," Kael said, far too calmly for someone doing something clearly suspicious.
Selene opened her mouth to protest—
—but the world vanished before she could speak.
Their bodies gently collapsed onto the courtyard grass, like marionettes with cut strings.
Behind a hedge, Lira gasped.
"They just… dropped!"
Riven peeked over the leaves, deadpan.
"Did Sir Kael break himself again?"
They rushed over. Both Kael and Selene lay peacefully, eyes closed, breathing soft and even. Not a single twitch.
Lira checked their pulses—normal.
"Sleeping?" she muttered, unconvinced.
Riven pulled out their now well-worn field notebook, flipped to a fresh page, and wrote:
"Sir Kael held Lady Selene's hand, said 'don't panic,' then both instantly passed out. Either spellwork or coordinated fainting ritual."
He added below:
"Should we stop letting him drink tea?"
Lira sighed.
"No, just... write 'magical nap.' Again."
Riven scribbled it down with grim determination.
"Magical nap (ver. 4)."