Chapter – 24 Terms of Humiliation
[Status Window — Subject: Liraen Vaerune]
Age: 122
Race: Elf (Awakened) (Abyssal Oceania Sovereign Highelf — Bloodline Dormant)
Title: — None
Talent: "Indomitable Tide" — The deeper the pressure, the stronger the current. When faced with extreme adversity, physical and magical resistance gradually rise, and recovery rate increases proportional to sustained damage over time. (Sealed — Forced Use: 27%)
Effect– Perpetually puts strain on her body
Level: 8 — (14,265 / 34,015)
Status: Sealed — Mana Circulation Restrained, Stats Reduction, Bloodline Suppression
---
Attributes:
STR — 4.1
VIT — 6.7
CON — 4.4
AGI — 6.8
STA — 7.1
INT — 6.9
MANA — 4.6
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Bloodline Status:
Current Estimated Power Output: 0.3% (due to diluted heritage and dormant bloodline)
Potential Power Output (After Bloodline Awakening Potion): 100%
[Under Illusion Disguise]
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Bloodline Overview — Abyssal Oceania Sovereign Highelf
A vanished imperial lineage of the Abyss, born in pressure-crushed cities hidden beneath continents of water. At their zenith, Sovereign Highelves ruled the deep as living gods — able to sunder oceanic trenches with a flick of their wrist, summon abyssal maelstroms capable of dragging islands beneath the waves, and hunt Leviathan-class sea beasts for sport.
Their feasts were the stuff of legend — abyssal flames roasting flesh from beasts larger than mountains, their rich aroma carried on the sea breeze for miles. Their songs could calm even the fiercest of tempests or rouse the ocean itself into a killing tide. Though thinned by countless eons, the dormant ember of their bloodline still smolders — waiting for the moment it will rise again to reclaim the drowned throne that even time could not erase.
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[Ding!]
Seal Removal Cost: 20,000 SP
Bloodline Awakening Potion Cost (usable after unsealing): 50,000 SP
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[System Advisory]
The Abyssal Oceania Highborn Elves were the absolute loyalists of the Imperial Family.
During the Final Drowning War, they held back the wrath of the ocean itself — restraining the entire sea from consuming the mainland while the continent was sinking. Their mastery allowed them to split seas, boil Leviathan-class beasts alive, and feast upon them as if they were mere fish.
It is advised that the host consider taking Liraen Vaerune as a companion.
Her bloodline holds an inherent pull toward the rightful heir.
---
[Emotional State Readout — Subject: Liraen Vaerune]
Primary Emotion: Irritation — spiking rapidly
Emotional Triggers Detected: Individual "Alex" referring to her as his woman
Secondary Desires:
• Leave current party immediately
• Inflict severe physical harm on "Alex" and "Max" (restraint level: moderate)
The system vanished. But not Ethan's stare.
Across the hall, Liraen stood frozen — still as deep water. But her pressure spiked. Alex rambled on.
"My woman doesn't need—"
Her gaze flicked.
Not angry — just done. And cold enough to kill.
Ethan stepped forward. Not loud. Just inevitable.
"You said what?"
Alex blinked, praying Max would intervene. Ethan didn't bother with him. His voice was soft, lethal.
"You're claiming a woman who wouldn't remember your name?" He snorted. "You're not her man. You're a placeholder."
Chuckles passed through the crowd. Alex bristled.
Ethan didn't stop.
"You pick fights with people better than you so you have an excuse when you lose."
Max finally stepped up, bored grin in place. "Cute speech. Want a duel?"
Ethan considered. "Depends. Got anything worth staking?"
Max scoffed. "I'm stronger. No stakes."
"Right," Ethan replied, deadpan. "Cowards always start there."
The crowd stirred. Pressure built. Someone muttered, "Say yes now, Max, or everyone remembers you backed down from the E–Ranked Goblin Slayer."
Max's lip curled. "Fine. If I win, you give your fancy gear, seems like a waste on you."
Ethan tilted his head. "And if I win, you shut up for good. No orders. No talk. She gets out of your party. And you follow like a dog."
The crowd inhaled, stunned.
Liraen blinked slowly. Her grip loosened — just a little.
Max hesitated. He wasn't smiling anymore.
The tension was tight enough to hum. A pulse behind every breath. And then—
"Enough."
An elder stepped forward. Robes bearing the Adventurers Guild sigil. His voice held command.
"This hall isn't a battleground. Disputes are settled according to guild governance."
Max sighed, annoyed. "Fine. But this isn't over."
"It never is," Ethan murmured.
The crowd stepped back, energy still buzzing as if expecting the hall itself to erupt.
Then silence.
Ethan turned to Liraen. Not protective — just present.
The guild elder addressed him. "Ethan Cross. The Goblin King expedition looms. Choose your allies wisely. Power matters, but trust sustains."
Ethan nodded once.
Outside the hall, stars blinked through coastal mist. The breeze was thick with salt and expectation. He stepped into it.
The emblem over the guild door glowed steadily — a beacon. A promise.
"Tomorrow, the tide breaks," he whispered.
The square faded into quiet. Ethan leaned against a wall, arms folded, eyes wary.
Footsteps approached. Soft. Intentional.
"Sir Ethan."
He turned. Liraen stood there.
Moonlight caught the seaborne silver strands in her hair; her expression was careful but not closed.
"Do we know each other?" she asked.
"No," Ethan replied. "Not really."
She tilted her head. "Then why step in?"
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Didn't like how they talked to you. Or about you."
He paused. "Wasn't trying to be noble. Just... couldn't ignore it."
A murmur of breath. Almost approval.
"They do that often," Liraen said. "Push until someone cracks."
"You haven't," he noted.
"I'm not most people."
"I noticed."
Silence pooled — not uncomfortable, just cautious.
"You should leave that party."
Her brow arched. "Think I haven't considered it?"
"You're waiting," Ethan said. "For the right excuse."
She studied him — sharp, calm, almost amused. "They did cross a line."
He didn't press. Just waited.
"But I don't leave unless Aina and Maya have somewhere better to land. If I go, I go with them."
Ethan nodded. "That's fair."
She smiled — the smallest tilt of her lips.
"You fight like someone who doesn't care if anyone's watching."
"I don't," he replied. "Makes consequences easier to live with."
"Good answer."
She turned, then paused. Half in shadow.
"...Thank you."
"Anytime."
"What is your name?"
He asked...just for the mood.
"Liraen...Liraen Vaerune..."
Then she disappeared down the misty steps, cloak drifting behind like a tide receding.
Not farewell.
Just space.
And maybe... the hint of something beginning.
Two Years Ago — Earth. Orion HQ.
"Mr. Cross?"
He didn't glance up right away. Just kept scrolling through pitch decks.
"Janine," he said. Bright. Capable. Too quiet lately.
Her voice was low. "This is about Dalton. He's been inappropriate. Touching. Ignoring when I tell him to stop."
Ethan finally looked up. Sighed.
"Dalton brings in a third of our annual volume… it's sensitive optics."
"You're saying not to file."
"I'm saying... be smart about picking battles."
Her face didn't change. Just her eyes — pulling back, like waves before a crash.
She didn't show up next week.
Reported suicide.
Family claimed foul play. HR called it "unfortunate."
No one looked deeper.
And Ethan never asked again.
Now – Virellia
The night air was cool, brushing his cloak.
Ethan stared down at his gloved hands.
Not this time.
He wouldn't weigh silence against optics. Wouldn't watch someone like Liraen be silenced, ignored, cornered.
This wasn't a boardroom.
And she wasn't a footnote.
"Protecting someone," he thought, "isn't just standing in front of them. It's making sure they never have to watch their back again."
...
..
.
"Ahhh....how I miss my cigarette"