Chapter 78

Nick lay flat in the grass, his heart pounding as he tried to decide what to do next. Through his spell, he could sense the tension in the house and the heightened alertness of the beastmen inside. The wolfkin’s growl echoed in his mind.Just as he prepared to draw on his mana to defend himself, he felt them move to leave the house.

To his surprise, the beastmen didn’t converge on his position. Instead, the bearman, Teo, and the wolfkin surged in the opposite direction, quickly moving out of Nick’s sensory range. He focused on the remaining presences in the house—Wulla and Elia—desperately trying to learn more.

Elia’s breathing was calm, almost too calm, but Nick detected a subtle undercurrent of unease as she patted her own tail. It was good to know that at least that remained unchanged. Wulla, on the other hand, was waiting by the window, perfectly still like a statue.

Minutes stretched, and Nick remained frozen in the grass, waiting. When the beastmen finally returned, they were not alone. A fourth presence struggled against them—a man. Through the feedback of his spell, Nick recognized him as an adventurer he had seen at the tavern. His movements were jerky, his words rough and unrefined, and Nick could feel his desperation as they got closer.

They dragged the man into the house. Teo’s wide frame made the process look easy despite the adventurer thrashing like a wild animal. Once inside, the man was forced into a chair, his arms bound behind him with ropes that had clearly been used for this purpose before.

Nick watched intently. Wulla moved to a cabinet and pulled out a small vial. She handed it to Teo, who uncorked it and held it to the adventurer’s lips.

“No!” the man shouted, hoarse with panic. “You can’t make me—”

Teo didn’t bother responding. With ease, he pinched the adventurer’s nose shut, forcing him to open his mouth to breathe. As soon as his lips parted, Teo poured the potion down his throat, keeping his jaw closed until the man swallowed.

Nick felt a chill run down his spine. The entire process was clinical, almost mechanical. There was no hesitation, no room for mercy.

Elia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, likely having not been present for this part before. She fidgeted and avoided looking directly at the scene. However, she didn’t intervene. It was as if she had resigned herself to the necessity of what was happening.

Nick, for his part, couldn’t have looked away even if he wanted to. He was no stranger to violence—he had killed before—but the sheer efficiency with which Wulla and her group operated unsettled him. It reminded him how different this world was from Earth, despite the general normalcy of Floria. Even the most innocent woman could be a ruthless killer, and there would be no way of knowing until it was too late.

The potion took effect almost immediately. The adventurer’s thrashing ceased, and his breathing slowed. His muscles relaxed, though his eyes darted wildly, betraying his panic.

Wulla knelt before him. “Who are you, and why were you spying on us?”

The man’s lips parted involuntarily, and the words spilled out. “My name is Renson. I’m an adventurer… been in Floria for a year. I followed you because I saw beastmen heading toward this house.”

“And why did that make you suspicious when it is known that this is our neighborhood?” Wulla pressed, uncaring of his discomfort.

“Because…” Renson hesitated, his face contorting as he fought the potion’s effects. “Because you’re beastmen. After what happened with Morrin the demon… can’t trust any of you.”

Teo’s massive hand curled into a fist at his side, but Wulla raised a hand to calm him.

“The Prelate cleared us,” she said icily. “The flames of Sashara revealed no corruption among our people. Do you think yourself wiser than him?”

Renson didn’t answer directly, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. “Doesn’t matter. Once you’ve seen what a demon can do, you can’t be too careful.”

Wulla leaned in closer, her voice low and dangerous. “You mean to tell me you risked exposing yourself to a demon because of a vague suspicion?”

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The adventurer swallowed hard, sweat beading on his brow. “I wasn’t… I didn’t know for sure. I just… wanted to be certain.”

“Certain of what?” the wolfkin growled, stepping forward. “That you could find something to justify your prejudices?”

Nick shifted slightly, tightening his grip on his wand. This wasn’t going to end well for Renson, and he doubted anyone in the room intended to let him leave. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he didn’t feel he could just barge in. Doing so would probably ruin his friendship with Elia unnecessarily and alert the older beastmen that someone was onto them.

Wulla straightened with a neutral expression. “Fine. If you’re so sure we’re hiding something, it is only fair we find out how much you’re hiding in return.”

She nodded to the wolfkin, who stepped forward with a wicked grin. “Where’s your stash, Renson?” the wolfkin asked. “You don’t look like the kind of man who’d wander into town with empty pockets.”

The adventurer’s face paled, and he clamped his mouth shut. But the potion wouldn’t allow him to keep his secrets. Bit by bit, he revealed everything—the small stash of coins and valuables hidden in the forest, the stolen items he’d taken from a wounded knight months ago before ending him, and even the cheap, half-broken sword he’d been using since arriving in Floria, after a more powerful adventurer broke his own.

Wulla’s gaze never wavered. “Thank you for your honesty,” she said, dripping with icy politeness. “You’ve been very helpful.”

The room fell silent, and Nick knew exactly what would happen next. He had seen enough. Without making a sound, he rose from his hiding place and left, extinguishing his spell once he was far enough away that he couldn’t feel anything inside the house.

His heart raced as he traveled along the southern road that snaked through Floria. It would take longer to reach home, but he couldn’t afford to stay. Wulla had tracked down Renson across a wall and several hundred feet of open fields. Once the man was dead, she might conduct another sweep, and he didn’t want to take that chance.

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Nick wiped the sweat from his brow, getting ready for a spar with his brother. Training with Akari was always intense, but today, he welcomed the distraction. His mind was still swirling from what he’d overheard at Elia’s house, and the only way to calm the storm of thoughts was to focus completely on something else.

Akari stood at the edge of the training ground with her arms crossed, observing Nick and Devon with a meticulous eye. Today, she had two clear goals: to punish Nick for skipping his last lesson and beat into Devon some humility, as apparently he’d been caught lording his skill over some other kid in town to impress a girl.

“Alright, boys,” Akari called out, clapping her hands. “No wands, no flashy tricks—just a simple sparring match. Devon, you’re to hold back from any active skill and use nothing but the Stalking Gait. Nick, do what you need to stay alive, but remember: you cannot win if you let yourself be goaded, and you won’t always be able to maintain control of the battlefield.”

Nick groaned but nodded, stepping into position. Devon grinned, twirling his wooden sword with ease. “You sure about this, Nick? I’ve been training a lot longer than you these days.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Nick shot back. “I’m not in the mood to let you win.”

Devon raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, it’s like that today? Alright, that’s all I had to hear. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Akari whistled. “Begin!”

Nick didn’t waste a second. He raised his hand and unleashed a , the rush of air roaring toward Devon. His brother dodged with surprising fluidity, weaving through the strike and immediately advancing to close the distance. He’d learned from his previous losses that allowing Nick time to set the tempo meant he’d be boxed in.

Of course, things would be different if he was allowed to go all out, but then Nick would also have other options.

Gritting his teeth, Nick immediately channeled to kick up a handful of loose stones and send them flying toward Devon like shrapnel. The older boy’s wooden sword moved in a blur, deflecting the projectiles as he advanced.

“Predictable,” Devon taunted, his grin never wavering.

Nick ignored him, focusing on maintaining his distance. He cast another , this time larger and more forceful, aimed directly at Devon’s chest. But instead of dodging, Devon surprised him by spinning on his heel and thrusting his sword in time with an exhale, creating a vortex of air that caught the spell and redirected it back toward Nick.

The shock nearly made Nick take the hit, but he quickly dispelled the returned blast, dissipating the energy before it could reach him thanks to his affinity. His heart raced as he realized just how much Devon had improved under Akari’s tutelage. Evidently, the higher levels of the Stalking Gait weren’t just movement and stealth techniques.

The show also confirmed his theory that the martial art was closely connected to the air element. Even though Devon hadn’t cast a spell, he had still interacted actively with the air—all without a single active skill.

“That was cool,” Nick admitted, retreating a step. “But I’m not done yet.”

Devon smirked, advancing even faster. “Better not be. You’re going to need everything you’ve got.”

Nick tried to pelt him with more stones, but Devon was already too close. With a burst of speed, his brother lunged forward, swinging his wooden sword in a wide arc aimed at Nick’s ribs.

Barely keeping a smirk from forming, Nick raised his hand, and an invisible barrier materialized between them. The sword struck with a dull thud, stopped cold by . The impact sent a ripple of energy across the barrier, and for a moment, Devon’s confident grin faltered.

Nick seized the opportunity. He stepped into Devon’s guard, delivering a quick jab that caught his brother square in the face. The punch sent Devon sprawling to the ground, and his sword clattering beside him.

A stunned silence followed.

Akari raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. “Well, that’s unexpected.”

Devon sat up, rubbing his jaw in surprise. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. Didn’t see the punch coming. Or the barrier, for that matter.”

Nick reached out a hand to help him up, breathing heavily. “I have to keep you on your toes, don’t I? You’ll get a big head in Alluria. I can already tell.”

Devon accepted the hand, pulling himself to his feet. “You’ve been holding out on me, you scrawny git.” He grumbled.

Nick shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I’ve been working out too, you know.”

“That wasn’t half bad.” Akari interrupted. “Of course, being beaten by a mage with a punch is something you’ll never be able to live down, Devon. I wonder if I should inform your new master once we get to Alluria?” Her smile was only half teasing, which sent Devon scrambling for a justification.

“Hey! You are the one who told me to hold back! What am I supposed to do if I can’t ever get close to him?” He was right, but his whiny tone didn’t lend his words much strength.

“I suppose I’ll have to show you how it’s done, then?” Akari asked, looming over the two brothers.

Nick gulped, remembering very well how easily his mother had defeated him and knowing that Akari wouldn’t be nearly as gentle. The memory gave him pause, and he glanced around. He was not surprised to see Elena approaching with a wooden sword.

“How about a spar for old times’ sake?” she asked, stepping onto the training ground and signaling for her sons to clear the way.