Chapter 202

Keeping Eugene’s rank up a secret had never been realistic. Even if it hadn’t been announced by that massive wave of mana, which alerted anyone with the most basic sensory ability to his success, Floria was a small town.Everyone knew each other well enough to recognize when something that monumental happened, especially to someone as high-profile as the local lord.

The Crowley family enjoyed the rest of the day together, happily catching up, until visitors began to arrive.

First, it was Darien who came to check on Eugene and left after seeing that he was hale and healthy with his own eyes. No one would have minded if he had stayed, but he said that someone had to take care of the wall and told Eugene he would be handling the patrols and training as long as necessary.

Secondly came Arthur. He strolled down the path casually, yet a swirl of excitement surrounded him that was unmistakable. Nick sensed his presence from the moment he stepped out of his house, such was the strength of his emotions.

Initially, Nick had thought it was just a matter of happiness for Eugene’s success, but it soon became apparent that there was another layer to it.

“Finally, I am free!” Arthur declared as soon as he caught sight of the man of the hour, who was slowly going through a series of sword forms in the training yard.

Elena covered her smile with a hand as Eugene sighed. “That is a bit overly dramatic, isn’t it? I didn’t chain you down.”

“Bah, I have had to watch over this town for decades! As the only Prestige class, it was my duty to ensure it wouldn’t fall as it once did. Now, it is on your shoulders!” Arthur continued, almost giddily.

Although he was hamming it up, Nick could see that there was some truth to his words. He genuinely felt relieved.

Watching Arthur with was fascinating. Unlike Marthas and Ogden, who were shrouded in enough layers to make it very difficult to see their true shape, Arthur didn’t bother hiding.

He was a crackling corona of power, a valiant knight, standing tall amid the swirling eddies of the ether, unbothered by their passage.

Like every other Prestige class Nick had observed, his presence in the astral plane was extraordinary. It was a solid mass around which reality itself seemed to bend. Considering what he had seen Eugene do to cross the boundary, that description wasn’t too far off.

“The Shadow will come back in a few days to officially hand off my new duties, so you have until then to plan your vacation. Where will you go?” Eugene then asked, an amused smirk firmly in place, as if he knew something they did not.

Arthur opened his mouth to confidently say something, but he faltered. Nick could not read his mind, but his emotions were enough to reveal what was holding him back.

Rose, his adoptive granddaughter, lived here in Floria, and she was unlikely to want to leave.

“Ah. I might have to think about that, yes.” Arthur said, blinking. He then turned around and left without another word.

Eugene chuckled under his breath, and Nick could feel his amusement radiating into the ether, causing the swirls to quicken and disperse.

He was still the same man, with the same personality and quirks, but sometimes Nick was taken aback by how powerful his father had become.

They hadn’t yet discussed the specifics of his new class, but Nick didn’t need to ask to know it had something to do with that Fire Drake. Its imprint was clearly visible in the ether, and everything Eugene did resonated with an intensity that was hard to put into words.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he started lamenting this sudden change a few weeks from now,” Elena chuckled, “Little Rosie is a harsh taskmistress. She might have let him get away once in a while because he had an official duty to the town, but now that it’s gone, he doesn’t have any more excuses.”

A few of the older guards also stopped by intermittently, checking in on their captain out of both curiosity and admiration. Reaching Prestige made him a legendary figure in the eyes of many, and they all wanted to witness that for themselves.

Eugene didn’t put on a show, but the surge in power was clear with every movement. His sword didn’t just deliver cutting force; it obliterated everything in its path.

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The remains of that attempt were clearly visible to all. The outhouse that had served as both a washroom and bathroom for the Crowley household was no longer there, and in its place was a new furrow carved five feet deep into the ground.

That had been Eugene’s first attempt at putting any real power behind his strikes. He’d since been banned from doing anything of the sort until he could get his new strength under control, as Elena did not appreciate the wanton destruction.

It would be a simple matter to hire a local crafter to replace the building, perhaps with something a bit sturdier, but that didn’t mean they should be allowed to destroy old things.

Nick had almost expected Marthas to show up. He certainly hadn't minded coming to look for him all those months ago in an effort to entice him into joining the temple, but he never did.

The last visitor of the day surprised Nick, even though he knew it was inevitable.

“Elia!” He called out as he felt her come closer.

His friend smiled back, though it was more subdued than usual. It wasn't necessarily because she was sad or angry, that much he could tell, but rather because she was feeling contemplative.

He guessed that was why she was here now. She wore what appeared to be ceremonial robes, with several layers visible, each intricately woven from a silky material. No doubt, it was the work of masters of their craft.

The outer layer was a brilliant white, accented with red hems and adorned with painted frolicking foxes near the bottom. It alone was a work of art, indicating that whatever she was here to do had to be official business.

Proving his point, Elia didn’t speak to him first; instead, she faced Eugene. The solemnity in her expression was enough for him to put down his sword and turn to give her his full attention.

Though it might have been merely a polite gesture, like everything else about him, this too had suddenly acquired another layer. Nick could see Elia’s pupils constricting as she was forced to endure it.

There was no mana behind it, no intention to harm. And yet, simply the act of turning to face her had been enough to catch her off guard.

Eugene was still trying to adjust to his strength, let alone the subtler aspects of his rank-up. Nick continued to catalog them all, storing the details away.

After a moment to compose herself, Elia took a deep breath and lightly bowed her head—enough to show respect but not enough to be seen as submissive.

Either she had been carefully coached by the elders, or Cao-leò had taught her more than just how to control her powers.

“Lord Crowley,” she intoned, her eyes meeting Eugene’s. In that moment, it was clear that it wasn’t Elia, Nick’s friend, who was speaking, but Elia the Miko, the hope of the beastmen. “I have come to officially request a reopening of the diplomatic talks, as per the treaty signed between our ancestors.”

Nick had worked tirelessly for this moment. In the grassland, and even before that, when he’d spied, sabotaged, and acted in the shadows, everything had been aimed at getting here. A moment where the beastmen could be given agency over their fate, to defuse the bomb that was the brewing rebellion.

And yet, he suddenly realized he had never actually spoken with his father about the specifics of what these upcoming talks would cover. Sure, they had discussed the general situation and the need to take action, but after Sashara’s descent and Marthas’ actions, Eugene had been too busy to do more than keep an eye on the suddenly stalled situation.

As Nick looked at Eugene, his face remained unreadable. Some of this was due to the sharpening of his features that came with his promotion, but upon looking deeper, Nick could see that even he was unsure of how things would unfold.

Still, he lightly inclined his head. “I have heard your words, and as detailed by the treaty, will open the talks. You have one week to present your demands, before we must meet within the Town Hall.”

Elia nodded again, this time a bit deeper to express her thanks, “I shall ensure they are brought to your office posthaste.”

With that, she turned around and left, her intricate clothes swirling around her and imparting an air of maturity and gravitas that still surprised Nick.

When she left, he turned to his father, only to find him staring ahead in contemplation. "What do you think they’ll ask?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” His mother asked, surprised.

Nick turned to her, bewildered. “Why would I know?”

“Do you mean to tell me you went on a month-long adventure through the grassland, fought monsters and spirits, risked your life who knows how many times, and didn’t even think to ask her what she would do with the power you were helping her get?” Elena sounded exasperated, but Nick could see the incredulous amusement filling her.

“Well, when you put it like that…” he murmured. He hadn't forgotten why they had left, but it might have slipped his mind. There had just been so many things to do! And then all that happened with Rhea! And then the dwarves!

Clearly, neither of his parents found that to be a sensible answer, because he was met with very unimpressed expressions.

Nick sighed. “Sorry, I will ask my friend why they want religious power over their race next time.”

With both the negotiations and the impending arrival of the Shadow looming, Nick found himself with surprisingly little to do but a lot to worry about.

His first instinct was to keep himself busy with other things. He still wanted to go back to Arthur’s and ask a few questions, and while Marthas hadn’t made another move, he was undoubtedly plotting something.

Unfortunately, his parents had other ideas.

“You know, this would be much faster if you let me use magic,” he grumbled, sawing back and forth.

“Aye, ‘td be faster, but then you wouldn’t learn, would ye?” The woodworker laughed heartily, giving him a playful pat on the back that nearly knocked him to the ground.

Now, Nick might not have been a martial class, but his physical stats were quite impressive. In fact, he’d say he was firmly in the superhuman tier.

The fact that the forty-something woodworker could move him so effortlessly indicated that his stats must be exceptionally high.

Sighing, Nick went back to sawing. The new outhouse was a big project, and it wouldn’t build itself if he kept going off on weird tangents out of boredom.

The answer, apparently, was just enough to keep him there for a few days to ensure he would learn his lesson.