Arden woke before dawn, his body aching from yesterday's combat.
Christ. I forgot what being twelve feels like. Everything hurts.
His muscles were sore in ways they hadn't been since Iraq. His shoulder throbbed where the howler had nearly gotten him. His hands were blistered from gripping his sword.
Three days recovery minimum. This body isn't conditioned for sustained combat yet.
Around him, the other recruits were still sleeping. Even Rykard, who'd seemed completely unbothered yesterday, was snoring softly in his bunk.
Arden got up quietly and headed to the washroom.
The cold water stung, but it helped clear his head.
Alright. Priorities.
First: Get stronger. Integration cores, training, all of it.
Second: Develop those strategic doctrines before disasters start hitting.
Third: Find specific people who can help prevent catastrophes.
He thought about his novel.
About the characters he'd written who'd become important later.
There's someone at this academy. Someone who becomes an admiral in the original timeline.
The details came flooding back.
Kari. Kari Shen. Tragic character. Dropped out in her first year because of health issues—chronic condition that weakened her body.
She struggled for years after. Tried multiple treatments. Eventually found a way to remove a seal on her body that was suppressing her second soul.
Once the seal broke, both souls merged or coexisted somehow, and suddenly she was healthy. Strong. Capable.
She transferred to Imperial Academy at sixteen, joined the navy, became one of the greatest admirals in Imperial history.
But by then, it was too late. The Northern naval disasters had already happened. Supply routes destroyed. Fleets sunk. Thousands dead.
Arden dried off and got dressed.
If I can find her now, before she drops out... if I can help her with whatever's causing her problems... maybe she reaches her potential years earlier.
And I know which Integration core would help. The Harmony Core of Dual Nature. Perfect synergy for someone with two souls sharing one body.
He returned to the barracks and pulled out his notebook.
Strategic Problem: Northern Supply Crisis
Current Situation:
North bleeds for Empire, sends materials to CenterCenter provides minimal support in returnCentral nobles take Northern sacrifice for grantedNo recognition, no resources, no respect
Standard Solutions (Insufficient):
Request more supplies (denied)Request more troops (denied)Internal improvements (not enough)
Alternative: Look Outward
Potential External Alliances:
1. Merchant Guilds
Viability: Medium
2. Eastern Coalition
Viability: Low (Empire would interfere)
3. Dwarven Forge Cities
Viability: Medium-High (if approached correctly)
4. The Witch of Moonlight
Pros: Powerful mage, rare materials, ALREADY IN NORTH
Cons: Refuses all contact, reputation as "Frozen Heart"
Viability: High
Note: Reputation may not match reality
The Witch is the best option.
In my novel, I made her a classic tsundere. Everyone called her the Ice Witch, the Moonlight Tyrant. Terrifying reputation.
But underneath? Lonely. Awkward. A softie who built walls because she didn't know how to connect.
She helped the North eventually, but not until thousands had died.
If I could reach her early... offer partnership instead of begging...
The morning bell rang.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
"ALL FIRST-YEARS, ASSEMBLE!"
The assembly grounds were packed.
Two hundred surviving first-years, looking considerably worse for wear.
Instructor Salmosa stood on the platform.
"Good morning! You survived the night! That puts you ahead of thirty percent of past intakes!"
Comforting.
"Today, we begin actual training. Physical conditioning, weapons drills, tactical exercises, theoretical studies."
His expression was stern.
"Yesterday was reality. Today, we prepare you to handle that reality consistently."
He gestured to Instructor Valen.
"First-years will be divided into specialized tracks. Combat specialists. Tactical specialists. Support specialists. Focus on developing your primary strength."
Specialization makes sense.
"Top-ranked students receive opportunities for advanced instruction and special projects. Rank 1 through 10, you'll meet with senior instructors at 1500 hours."
Special projects could be useful.
"Finally, we have guests from Northern Command today, evaluating our programs and resource needs."
Interesting timing.
"Dismissed to training! Move!"
Groups dispersed.
Group 1-A followed Instructor Valen to the advanced combat grounds.
"Today, we properly assess your capabilities," Valen announced.
"Yesterday was chaos. Today, I want controlled evaluation."
She gestured to training stations.
"Combat dummies. Obstacle courses. Tactical scenarios. Mana efficiency testing. Four hours. Rotate through all stations. Begin."
Arden headed for tactical scenarios first.
As he demonstrated his planning—efficient, adaptable—he noticed something.
At the far end, near the medical station, a girl sat alone.
She looked fragile.
Like she might break if the wind blew too hard.
Blue-black hair with unusual dual-toned highlights—blue on one side, slightly violet on the other, styled in a distinctive three-pronged braid that somehow made her look both elegant and approachable.
Pale skin with an almost ethereal quality.
An expression that shifted between fierce determination and exhaustion, her features delicate but expressive.
She was attempting physical conditioning, but her movements were weak.
Every exercise looked agonizing.
That's not normal weakness.
She failed the obstacle course.
Not from lack of technique—her movements were practiced, almost graceful despite the pain—but from sheer physical inability.
Halfway through, she collapsed.
A medic rushed over.
She's pushing way too hard for her condition.
During a break, Arden approached the medical area.
The girl sat on a bench, looking frustrated and exhausted, her distinctive braid slightly disheveled from exertion.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She looked up.
Her eyes were striking—one blue, one darker violet.
Like two different people looking out from the same face.
They were large, almost luminous, radiating an earnest warmth despite her obvious pain.
"I'm fine!" she said quickly, her voice higher-pitched and more energetic than he expected given her condition.
"Just need a moment! Then I'll get right back to it!"
Those eyes aren't normal. Two souls, hold up could it be her?
"You're pushing pretty hard for someone who survived a monster wave yesterday."
"Everyone else is training! I should too! I can't fall behind just because—"
She stopped, frustration flickering across her expressive face.
"I have to keep trying!"
"Everyone else isn't—" He stopped himself. "What's your name?"
"Kari! Kari Shen! Number 0147!"
She smiled despite her exhaustion, bright and genuine.
"And you're Arden Valekrest! Number 0001!"
Well speak of the devil
Her eyes suddenly lit up with unmistakable admiration, almost sparkling.
"Your commands yesterday were amazing! The way you organized everyone, and how you used that pistol—I've never seen anyone fight like that! It was so incredible!"
Her words tumbled out rapidly, hands gesturing enthusiastically despite her obvious fatigue.
"The tactical positioning, the coordinated strikes, the way you adapted mid-battle—it was like watching a master strategist at work! And you're only twelve! How did you learn to command like that?!"
Is she... is she fangirling?
Arden felt oddly uncomfortable.
In his past life, he'd been a middle-aged soldier.
Getting this kind of star-struck praise from what his brain registered as a child felt deeply weird.
"Just doing what needed to be done," he said, trying to deflect.
"But you saved so many people! Including me!"
Her voice was earnest, almost breathless, her expressive face glowing with genuine gratitude.
"I was so scared, but then I heard your voice and suddenly everything made sense! You were incredible! Like a real hero!"
Oh god, she's definitely fangirling. How do I handle this?
"I'm glad I could help," he said awkwardly, suddenly very aware of the age difference between his mental state and his physical body.
"Can I ask why you're here? At Northern Military Academy? You clearly have health issues."
Kari's enthusiasm dimmed only slightly, replaced by fierce determination.
"Because I need to get stronger! I need to be able to contribute! I won't let this weakness stop me!"
"You want to join the navy," Arden said.
She looked shocked, her dual-colored eyes widening.
"How did you know?!"
"You kept watching naval tactical scenarios. When Instructor Valen mentioned supply routes, you leaned forward."
He paused.
"You're interested in maritime strategy."
Kari's face lit up again, practically glowing with excitement.
"Yes! Exactly! I want to command ships! Protect supply lines! Make sure soldiers get what they need!"
Her passion was infectious despite her exhaustion, her hands gesturing animatedly.
"The navy is so important but nobody pays attention to it! Everyone focuses on ground combat, but maritime logistics determine whether armies survive or starve! Supply chain security, convoy protection, anti-piracy operations—it's all critical but completely underappreciated!"
She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes shining.
"And the tactical complexity! Naval combat requires three-dimensional thinking—currents, winds, visibility, formation dynamics! It's beautiful when executed properly! Like a dance, but with ships and cannons and—"
She suddenly seemed to realize she was rambling and blushed slightly.
"Sorry! I get excited about naval strategy! Most people find it boring!"
She's got the vision. The tactical mind. The passion. Just needs the physical capability.
"I don't find it boring," Arden said honestly.
"You're right—logistics win wars. Tactics win battles, but logistics win wars."
Kari's smile could have lit up the entire training ground.
"You understand! You actually understand!"
She practically bounced in her seat despite her exhaustion.
"Nobody else gets it! They all want to be famous swordsmen or legendary mages, but the real heroes are the people who make sure armies can eat and reload and move!"
Her enthusiasm is... actually kind of endearing. Like a puppy. A very tactical, logistics-obsessed puppy.
"What if there was a way to fix your health problems?" Arden asked carefully.
Kari's expression fell, her earlier brightness dimming.
"I've tried everything. Healers, mages, alchemists. Nothing works. My body is just... weak."
Her voice became smaller.
"They say I'm cursed. That my family did something generations ago and we're all paying for it."
"Maybe the problem isn't weakness. Maybe something's being suppressed."
"You mean the seal."
Bitterness crept into her voice.
"Some kind of binding placed generations ago. But nobody knows how to break it. The best healers in the Empire have looked at it. They all say the same thing—it's too complex, too dangerous to remove."
It's real. I wrote it. And I know which core can help.
"What if there was an Integration core that could help?"
Kari's dual-colored eyes widened with sudden hope, then immediately dimmed with pragmatic resignation.
"Integration cores are for top performers. I can barely finish basic training."
She laughed, but it was hollow.
"The instructors are kind, but I know what they think. That I should go home. That I'm wasting everyone's time."
"Not if you drop out. Which will happen if you keep pushing like this. You'll collapse, get sent home, spend years struggling."
She flinched, her expressive face showing the hit landed.
"But what if you could get help now? While you're still here?"
"How?"
Desperation mixed with hope in her voice.
"Leave that to me. For now, stop destroying yourself. Focus on theoretical studies. Tactical analysis. Naval strategy. Build knowledge while I work on the physical problem."
"Why would you help me?"
Suspicion mixed with hope in her expression, her dual-colored eyes searching his face.
"You're Rank 1. You could work with anyone. Why waste time on someone like me?"
Because thousands die when you're not there. Because the North needs you. Because I wrote you to suffer and maybe I can fix that.
"Because I recognize talent. And because the North needs good naval commanders more than another mediocre sword-swinger."
Kari studied him, her dual-colored eyes intense, like both souls were evaluating him simultaneously.
Then she smiled—bright, genuine, completely unguarded, and absolutely radiant.
"You really mean it! You actually see what I wanna do!"
Her enthusiasm came flooding back like a dam breaking.
"Nobody else takes naval strategy seriously! But you understand! You actually understand!"
She grabbed his hand impulsively, her grip surprisingly strong despite her frailty.
"Then yes! Absolutely yes! I'll work as hard as I can! I'll study every tactical manual, every historical battle, every thing I can!"
Her eyes were shining with unshed tears of gratitude.
"And when I'm strong enough, when I join the navy, I'll make sure every supply route is protected! No soldier will go without because some incompetent noble got his position through nepotism instead of merit!"
That's the spirit I was hoping for.
But then her expression shifted to something more earnest, almost shy.
"And... thank you, Arden."
Her voice was softer now, more vulnerable.
"Really, truly, thank you. You're the first person who's believed in me. Who's looked past the weakness and seen what I could become without laughing."
She squeezed his hand, her dual-colored eyes locked on his with an intensity that made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn't quite articulate.
"I won't let you down! I promise! I'll become someone worthy of your trust!"
Why does it feel like I just accidentally started something?
"Good," Arden said, gently extracting his hand.
"Rest today. Focus on theoretical work. We'll talk more later."
As he walked away, he heard her call out, her voice bright and cheerful again.
"I'll make you proud, Arden! You'll see! I'll become the best naval strategist in the Empire!"
She's enthusiastic. Almost aggressively optimistic despite her situation. And apparently very... affectionate?
That'll serve her well. If she doesn't burn herself out first.
Or develop... other expectations.
He pushed that thought away.
She was twelve.
He was mentally forty-something.
This was purely about preventing disasters and saving lives.
Definitely.
Lunch was basic fare.
Bread, meat, vegetables.
Arden sat with Group 1-A at one of the long tables in the mess hall.
"I'm going to die," Garrett moaned, face-down on the table.
"You did fine," Thrain said cheerfully, somehow eating enough for three people.
"I can't feel my arms."
"That means you're building muscle!"
Elara approached their table.
"May I sit?"
"Sure!" Thrain gestured enthusiastically to the empty space next to Arden.
She sat down, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
"How are you feeling?"
"Sore. Normal for day two."
"You overdid it. I could see you compensating for injuries."
Her tone was gently chiding, almost motherly despite being the same age.
"You need to take better care of yourself."
Perceptive as always.
"I'll recover."
"Make sure you do."
She reached over and adjusted his collar, which had been slightly askew.
The gesture was casual but intimate.
"The top ten meeting this afternoon is important. They'll offer opportunities. Advanced training. Special assignments."
"You sound like you know what they'll offer."
"I've heard stories from veteran students," Elara said, but there was something in her tone—like she was reciting a practiced line rather than the truth.
They ate in silence for a moment before Elara spoke again, her voice casual but her eyes intent.
"Have you started working on those strategic theories?"
Why does she care so much?
"Started notes. Basic frameworks."
"Good."
Relief flickered across her face.
"Can I help? Research, I mean. I have library access. Historical records, monster studies."
She's offering again. Pushing just a little too hard.
"Why?"
"Because brilliant ideas need support."
She paused, her expression becoming more earnest.
"I don't want good work to fail because nobody helped. I've seen... I've heard about talented people whose ideas died because they had no support structure."
She looked directly at him, her expression serious.
"I'll stay by your side. Help you develop these theories. Make sure they actually get implemented."
That's... a very specific promise.
"Alright. Thank you."
Relief flooded her features, and she smiled—small but genuine.
"There's no one who knows the importance of good strategic doctrine better than me."
That's an odd way to phrase that.
She stood, then paused, looking down at him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"One more thing. At the meeting—pay attention to any naval logistics or supply chain projects. It sounds boring, but it's critical."
She knows about the naval disasters.
"Why specifically naval?"
"Because the North's supply problems aren't just land-based. Coastal routes are vulnerable. Under-defended."
Her expression was serious.
"If you want to help the North, that's where attention is needed most. Trust me on this."
There it is again. 'Trust me.' Like she knows something I don't.
She walked away, but not before Arden caught a glimpse of something in her eyes—sorrow? Regret?
What does she actually know? And why does she keep pushing me toward specific solutions?
Serra, who'd been sitting at the edge of their group as usual, spoke up quietly.
"She cares about you. A lot."
Arden looked at her, surprised she'd initiated conversation.
"What makes you say that?"
Serra's periwinkle-blue eyes were thoughtful.
"The way she watches you. The way she offers help unprompted. The way she sounds relieved when you accept."
A pause.
"It's not just friendship. It's... something deeper."
"We barely know each other."
"Sometimes people know each other in ways that don't require time."
Serra returned to her meal, clearly done with the conversation.
Great. Now I'm getting relationship advice from a twelve-year-old with trust issues.
Arden looked down at his lunch, his mind racing.
Priorities: Get stronger. Get that core for Kari. Survive the afternoon meeting.
And try not to think about why a girl I barely know seems to care way too much about my success.
Or why another girl just declared her eternal gratitude after one conversation.
I'm a forty-year-old veteran mentally. This shouldn't be complicated.
So why does it feel like I'm standing in a minefield I don't have a map for?
He finished his lunch in silence, trying to ignore the fact that both Elara and Kari were watching him from different parts of the dining hall.
No. Focus on the mission. Strategic doctrines. Integration cores. Preventing disasters.
Everything else is just... noise.
Right?
The afternoon theoretical session was held in one of the academy's lecture halls.
A massive amphitheater-style room with stone benches arranged in ascending rows.
All two hundred first-years filed in, exhausted from morning training.
Instructor Kross stood at the front—the massive man who'd been introduced during the entrance ceremony.
"Settle down!" he barked.
The room went silent immediately.
"Today we're covering fundamentals. Power systems. How your bodies actually work."
He gestured to a large diagram on the wall behind him—a detailed anatomical drawing showing what looked like energy channels throughout the human body.
"Most of you have been using mana your whole lives without understanding what you're actually doing. That ends now."
He pointed to the center of the diagram.
"Your Mana Heart. The core of everything. Located here—" he tapped his chest, "—roughly where your physical heart sits. But it's not a physical organ. It's a spiritual one. A nexus point where mana accumulates and circulates."
Several recruits were taking notes frantically.
"Your Mana Heart has a rank. This rank is determined at birth and CANNOT BE CHANGED."
That's a myth
He let that sink in.
"F-Rank is the lowest. Peasant level. Can barely use basic magic."
"E-Rank is common soldier potential. Most enlisted men."
"D-Rank is talented soldier material. Most of you in this room."
"C-Rank is officer material. Genius level for common folk, baseline for major nobility."
"B-Rank is prodigy tier. Ducal families, legendary bloodlines."
"A-Rank appears once in a generation. These people become legends."
"S-Rank appears once per century. Myth tier."
He paused.
"And EX-Rank... well. We don't know about EX-Rank its a theory."
That's ominous.
"Your rank determines CAPACITY. How much mana your heart can hold. But capacity isn't everything."
Kross gestured to the diagram again.
"This is where most academy students get it wrong. They think a higher rank automatically makes you stronger. Wrong."
He drew two figures on a slate board.
"Fighter A: B-Rank Mana Heart. Trains like shit. Wastes mana. Poor technique."
"Fighter B: D-Rank Mana Heart. Trains perfectly. Optimal efficiency. Perfect technique."
"Who wins?"
"Fighter B," someone called out.
"Correct. Because capacity means nothing if you can't use it effectively."
He turned back to the board.
"This brings us to Resonance. The art of using your mana efficiently."
"Resonance is how you USE your mana. It's trained through combat, meditation, and understanding fundamental energy patterns."
He listed levels on the board:
"Basic Resonance: Can channel mana into simple spells and techniques. Wasteful. Inefficient. This is where most soldiers stay their entire lives."
"Intermediate Resonance: Efficient mana usage. Minimal waste. You can maintain techniques for extended periods. This is where veteran soldiers operate."
"Advanced Resonance: Can combine techniques. Create variations. Adapt mid-combat. This is officer-level mastery."
"Perfect Resonance: Zero waste. Maximum efficiency. Technique becomes instinct. You don't think about using mana—you just do. This is where legends are made."
"Harmonic Resonance: Can resonate with external mana sources. Environment. Allies. Even enemies. Extremely rare. Maybe one in ten thousand reach this level."
"Absolute Resonance: Don't worry about it. You'll never reach it."
Comforting as always.
"Most of you will spend four years here and graduate with Intermediate Resonance if you're lucky. Advanced Resonance if you're exceptional."
He looked around the room.
"Perfect Resonance? Maybe one or two of you in this entire class. And you'll spend a decade reaching it."
I'm already showing signs of Perfect Resonance in specific techniques. That's... concerning. Need to be more careful about what I show.
"Now. Integration."
Kross's expression became more serious.
"This is what separates frontier soldiers from academy dueling champions. This is why we matter."
He pulled out a small crystalline object—roughly the size of a fist, pulsing with faint blue light.
"This is a monster core. Every monster has one. When you kill a monster and extract its core, you can absorb it. Integrate it into your own Mana Heart."
He held it up.
"Integration grants you abilities. Powers. Techniques that normal mana manipulation can't achieve."
"But there are limits."
He wrote on the board:
Integration Limits By Rank:
F-Rank: 1-2 cores maximum
E-Rank: 3-4 cores
D-Rank: 5-7 cores
C-Rank: 8-10 cores
B-Rank: 12-15 cores
A-Rank: 18-20 cores
S-Rank: 25+ cores
"Your Mana Heart can only hold so many foreign cores before it becomes unstable. Try to integrate more than your limit, and you die. Painfully."
Several recruits shifted uncomfortably.
"Integration types fall into three categories."
He wrote again:
Physical Integrations:
Enhanced strength, speed, durability
Bestial transformations
Regeneration
Specialized senses
Elemental Integrations:
Fire, Ice, Lightning, Earth, Wind, Water manipulation Combination elements: Magma, Storm, Frost ,Environmental control
Conceptual Integrations:
Shadow manipulation, Spatial distortion, Time dilation (extremely rare), Fear aura, Adaptation abilities
"Physical integrations are most common. Easy to find, straightforward benefits."
"Elemental integrations are powerful but require good Resonance to use effectively."
"Conceptual integrations are rare. Boss monsters. Unique creatures.
He looked around the room.
"Your goal as soldiers isn't to collect the most cores. It's to build a SYNERGISTIC set. Cores that work together. Complement each other."
"A fighter with three perfectly synergized cores will destroy a fighter with ten random cores."
Exactly. And I know which combinations work the best. This is going to be fun.
"Integration process is dangerous."
Kross held up the core again.
"Step one: Defeat the monster. Extract the core before it dissipates. You have about ten minutes."
"Step two: Meditate with the core. Attune to its frequency. This can take hours or days depending on compatibility."
"Step three: Absorb the core into your Mana Heart. This is the dangerous part. Incompatible cores will reject violently. You'll know if it's not working because you'll be coughing blood."
"Step four: The core integrates. You gain the ability. Strength of the ability depends on: core quality, your compatibility, and your Resonance level."
He set the core down.
"Core quality matters. A common Frost Wolf core gives basic cold resistance. A Frost Wolf Alpha core gives cold immunity and ice generation."
"Boss monster cores—Calamity-class and above—grant unique abilities. These are what everyone fights over."
"And finally..."
He pulled out a different core. This one was larger, darker, with a sickly purple glow.
"Cursed cores. Some monsters are corrupted. Twisted. Their cores look powerful but they're traps. Absorb one of these and you'll die or worse—lose your mind."
He put it away.
"How do you tell the difference? Experience. Testing. Caution. If a core feels wrong, it probably is. Don't be greedy."
Good advice. I've seen too many people die to cursed cores in my... memories? Dreams? Whatever they are.
"Questions?"
Garrett raised his hand.
"How do we know what cores to choose? What builds to make?"
"Research. Trial. Experience. The academy library has records of successful builds. Study them. Learn from those who came before."
Another hand.
"What if we can't find the cores we need?"
"Then you adapt. Use what's available. A perfect build means nothing if you die waiting for the perfect core."
Kari raised her hand.
"What about cores that help with... medical conditions? Seals or curses?"
Good question.
Kross looked thoughtful.
"Rare. Very rare. But they exist. Harmony cores. Balance cores. Dual-nature cores. These can sometimes break seals or stabilize unusual conditions."
He looked directly at her.
"If you have a specific condition, see the academy medics. They have records of which cores might help. Don't try to self-medicate with random integrations. You'll make it worse."
Kari nodded, looking hopeful.
The Harmony Core of Dual Nature. That's what she needs. And I know where to find it. Eventually.
"Final point."
Kross's expression became grave.
"Integration changes you. Not just your power. Your personality. Your instincts."
"Integrate too many predator cores, and you become aggressive. Territorial. Sometimes feral."
"Integrate too many defensive cores, and you become passive. Risk-averse."
"The cores you choose shape who you become. Choose wisely."
He dismissed them.
"Library is open for research. Training resumes tomorrow at dawn. Top ten students, you have your meeting at 1500 hours. Don't be late."
Arden filed out with the others, his mind racing.
Everything he said lines up with what I wrote. The power system is real. Consistent.
Which means the cores I remember—the ones I 'invented' for my novel—they exist here too.
The Harmony Core of Dual Nature for Kari.
The Resonance Amplification Core for optimizing techniques.
The Void Step Core for mobility.
All of them are out there. Waiting.
I just need to survive long enough to find them.
Elara fell into step beside him as they walked toward the barracks.
"That was informative," she said casually.
"Very."
"Thinking about Integration builds already?"
"Always."
She smiled.
"I trust you'll make good choices. You have good instincts."
There it is again. That certainty in her voice.
"You seem very confident in my judgment."
"I am."
She looked at him directly.
"I trust you more than you might think. There's no one whose decisions I trust more."
That's... a very strong statement from someone I barely know.
"Why?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Just looked at him with that complicated expression—sadness, determination, something deeper.
"Because I've seen what you're capable of. Even if you haven't yet."
She walked ahead before he could press further.
What the hell does that mean?
Rykard appeared at his other side, silent as always.
"She talks like she knows your future," the quiet boy observed.
"Yeah. I noticed."
"Does it bother you?"
"Should it?"
Rykard shrugged.
"Depends on whether she's right."
He drifted away to join Thrain, leaving Arden alone with his thoughts.
Elara knows something. Acts like she's seen this before. Like she's trying to guide me toward specific outcomes.
Kari looks at me like I'm some kind of hero. Like I saved her life when all I did was give basic advice.
And I'm mentally forty years old, trying to prevent disasters I wrote about, using knowledge I shouldn't have.
This situation is completely fucked.
But he kept walking, kept planning.
The top ten meeting was in two hours.
Whatever opportunities they offered, he'd evaluate them through the lens of: Will this help me survive? Will this help me get stronger? Will this help me prevent the disasters I know are coming?
Everything else was secondary.
Even the inexplicable devotion of girls who barely knew him.
Even the mysteries surrounding Elara's certainty.
Focus on the mission.
Save lives. Prevent catastrophes. Survive past Chapter 147.
Everything else... I'll figure out later.
Maybe.