In the following months, Leo's group devoted themselves to honing their strength, each member pressing their limits in preparation for what lay ahead.
Briva, grew closer to the wild essence of nature itself. She and Arthur left for nearly a month, both to scout beyond the corrupted lands and to place a teleportation circle at the outer edges for future use. It was during this journey that Briva encountered the creature who would become her companion, a proud falcon with piercing eyes and feathers like smoldered ash.
It was not an easy bond. She spent an entire week in the jungle, patiently earning the falcon's trust as it tested her resolve again and again. When at last it perched upon her arm without resistance, she named it Ashen. From then on, their bond deepened with every day. Through their connection, Briva could even see through Ashen's eyes, giving her the perspective of the skies. In battle, they moved together, hunter and blade. Yet in harsher fights, Briva kept him back, unwilling to risk him until their training reached its peak.
This strengthened bond with nature also allowed her to wield her artifacts with newfound mastery. With the Veil of the Endless Storm and the Watcher Beyond working in unison, she could now channel power strong enough to briefly reach the rank of A minus, her storms sweeping with a fury that rivaled even the strongest of their foes.
Ryan, Luciana, and Edgarth's powers didn't leap forward the way the others had. At A rank, progress came slower, every improvement demanding precision and discipline rather than sheer effort. Still, they were undeniably stronger than before. Ryan refined his command over illusions, weaving subtler, more layered deceptions. Edgarth, splitting his focus between illusion and alchemy, uncovered several clever tricks that gave him more versatility in combat. Luciana, meanwhile, devoted herself almost entirely to her mana and blood powers, deepening her control until even her smallest spells carried more weight.
Alina and Arlasan spent their days training relentlessly under Arthur's guidance. Alina's divination grew sharper, though she learned it was of little use when blades were drawn. Instead, it was her assassin's reflexes, honed in sparring, that pushed her forward, swift, efficient, and deadly. She could now stand as a solid C-plus, and when Leo summoned his domain near her, the surge of power allowed her to touch the edge of B-minus.
Arlasan's growth was more dramatic. With his new gauntlets amplifying his raw power, he climbed to A-minus. Every strike carried monstrous force, enough to crush most of the shadowland creatures with terrifying ease.
Elna devoted most of her training to fusing her shadow spells with her blood powers. Layered with illusion, her shadows could now take the shape of hundreds of clones, phantoms that didn't just distract but could strike with real, tangible force. What once were tricks to confuse now became a deadly swarm that overwhelmed enemies in both sight and flesh. She refined her blood manipulation as well, shaping it into sharper, faster weapons and even crafting larger constructs. The spiraling tornado of blood Luciana once wielded became something Elna could now imitate, though raw and unstable. Day by day, she edged closer to resembling a true vampire, both in strength and presence. She already was an A minus.
Arthur's focus, in contrast, was on refinement and control. He sharpened his command of his domain until his Divine Rupture struck with terrifying precision, its concentrated force far surpassing the raw blast he had first unleashed. Beyond brute power, he disciplined himself to weave divination into battle itself. The spell Divining Beacon allowed him to keep unwavering track of his opponent, cutting through illusions and tricks that might otherwise hinder him.
More importantly, among the books salvaged from the shadowland, Arthur uncovered two spells that could redefine his fighting style. The first, Clairstrike, revealed the weaknesses in an enemy's body or armor, guiding his sword toward the thinnest defenses. The second, far more dangerous, was Foresight Edge. For moments at a time, it granted him fleeting glimpses of his opponent's next move, raising his ability to dodge, counter, or parry to near perfection. The spell was costly, demanding vast reserves of mana, and he had yet to master it, but once he did, Arthur knew it would mark the difference between survival and death.
In time, it could raise him firmly to the rank of an A4.
But the greatest change was in Leo.
He devoted himself first to mastering his domain. What had once been raw and unstable now bent to his will with far greater control. The Blood Explosion, a spell that once left him drained after a single use, could now be unleashed three times so long as Thorn was brimming with blood. More importantly, with his power pushing firmly into A rank, he discovered an stable way to force open the boundary between worlds. With meticulous preparation and the sacrifice of a high-quality crystal, Leo could call forth a fragment of his domain into reality, channeling its presence through him. The strain was immense, but for moments at a time it elevated him to the level of an A1.
His studies in enchanting advanced as well. By adding an additional circle to his existing spellwork, he created a system to store mana directly within the arrays themselves. This allowed his traps to remain active for long stretches, no longer reliant on crystals alone, a subtle change, but one that made him far more dangerous in prolonged battles.
Yet most of his focus was consumed by something stranger, something only he dared attempt, the circle of magic belong to the Creation Room in Alexia's domain. He dissected every line of its structure, probing deeper into its mysteries until he understood it more and more. He began shaping it, bending its framework toward his own designs, testing the boundaries of what could be created, and what it might cost him to wield.
As planned, they spent the following months cleansing large swaths of land around their newly-claimed city. The elders named it Hope, a fragile name for a fragile dream, but it stuck. The corruption receded wherever they passed, yet the shadowlands seemed endless; no matter how many creatures they slew, the numbers never truly diminished.
The hardest battles came when pushing toward the vampire's territory. They clashed with their forces several times, managing to cut down dozens of lesser vampires, though each victory only reminded them of the strength of those still ahead. During one attempt, they came dangerously close to crossing paths with Ed Wilson, the infamous werewolf whose power teetered on the edge of S-rank. Only meticulous preparation and quick retreat kept them alive.
Outside the shadowlands, Marco's progress was rapid. He had already climbed to D+ rank as a warrior, and under the guidance of the enigmatic blacksmith Edgar Wilkerson, he was learning both enchanting and forging. Leo kept a wary eye on Edgar after hearing Marco's revelations, but after a month of observation, the smith revealed nothing unusual, and Leo reluctantly turned his focus elsewhere.
Liam, meanwhile, was preparing to take the B- rank test within a month. He had deepened his connections with other noble families and secured the trust of both his father and his allies. But his investigation also uncovered bitter truths: the attempt on his life had been orchestrated by Gilbert Laurent, aided by his own brother, George Hans. Without solid proof, Liam held his silence, biding his time, eyes sharp and patient.
Leo kept watch on the people he knew when his duties allowed, glimpsing their lives through the mirror of truth. What he discovered unsettled him. Rosie, bright and reckless now stood as a D rank paladin.
She trained under his old friend Liamond, who had risen to B+ priest and pressed dangerously close to A minus. When Leo watched him, he felt both pride and unease. Liamond carried himself differently now, older, steadier, with a calm authority that had not been there before. His new bronze arm gleamed in the light, an intricate construct of metal and enchantment, replacing the flesh he had lost. Every motion was precise, deliberate, as if it had been forged to be more than a mere replacement, but a weapon.
The wider world beyond them was no calmer. Two months earlier, war erupted between the northern kingdom and the kingdom of light. Leo had first assumed it would collapse quickly under the northern prince's fractured support and the unity of his enemies. But the prince proved far sharper than anticipated. With the Daradia family pressing him, the prince turned to the other noble houses, weaving alliances where he could. Together they bought themselves time, using diversion and attrition to slow Osvald Hemingsson's advance. The prince knew his enemy well, Osvald would not butcher every soul in his path. That restraint, gave the prince exactly the opening he needed.
When the kingdom of magic began to interfere more directly, disaster struck. The orcs poured down from the north in a tide of steel and flame. Somehow, unthinkably, the prince had negotiated with them, forging an alliance that no one would have believed possible. The war, instead of burning out, grew broader, darker.
Leo watched all of it like a man pressed against glass, powerless to change the outcome. To leave the shadowlands now would be to doom the world in a different way. The ritual had only two months left before completion.
They already knew Lucius's hiding place. But their path first led elsewhere, to another ruined city, one almost swallowed by the shadowlands' corruption. From Ilandra's fragments of memory, they learned it had once been the jewel of the greatest scientist of the old age, a mind so brilliant and dangerous that even the God of Knowledge had called him devout. What lingered there now could be salvation, or catastrophe.
In the last few days, they prepared for the expedition to that forgotten city, each task heavy with the sense that this journey would be unlike the others.
Passing through the city, Leo observed the altars erected for the Creator. Even though he disagreed as his vessel, he could do nothing to stop it. The people here prayed to the Creator, and he could feel the weight of their prayers stirring in his domain.
He moved through the gates and entered the castle. The ghosts of the former guards patrolled the halls; when they saw him, they bowed deeply in acknowledgment. Leo ascended the stairs and entered the room used mostly for discussions. Everyone was already gathered, waiting.
He approached his seat, pausing to look at each member of the group in turn.
"Let's finalize our plan for the exploration," he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of authority.
…
Flesa City
Rosie pushed the door open and stepped inside. Lisa sat on the sofa, her hands folded tightly in her lap, and when she saw her daughter, a smile broke across her face, soft, but laced with worry.
"Welcome back, honey."
In truth, worry had shadowed Lisa for months. She knew Leo was alive, yet fear still gnawed at her, fear that something might happen to Rosie too. And beneath that, another unease lingered. As a lifelong believer in the God of Light, she was adrift after knowing about the god's betrayal. Even now, after paladins and priests spoke openly of corruption, she didn't know whom she should pray to anymore.
"Do you want something to eat?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Sure," Rosie said, following her mother into the kitchen, the faint clatter of her boots echoing in the quiet home.
"Can you pack me some food for tomorrow too? We're going to a nearby village."
"Why?" Lisa asked, worry sharpening her tone.
"It's just a small mission. Someone might be corrupted there."
Lisa bit her lip, but the words escaped. "Honey, do you really have to go on all these dangerous missions?"
"Mom, we've been through this. First, it's not dangerous. And second…" Rosie's eyes burned with determination. "I need to get stronger. It's the only way I'll see Leo again."
"But look what it's done to your brother…"
"What has it done? He's a champion, Mom. He saved us all." Rosie's voice rose, echoing against the walls. "And he's still fighting for everyone. I can't just sit here."
Lisa's lips trembled. "But you're just a…" She faltered, unable to finish.
Rosie's jaw set, eyes blazing. "I'm fifteen. I'm not a kid anymore."
With that, she stormed to her room, the door slamming behind her. Lisa remained in the kitchen, gripping the counter for support, her chest tight, her heart heavy with love, fear, and helplessness.