Astraeus left the warehouse district, his steps heavy with an exhaustion that went bone-deep. The encounter with the Voidborn had drained him physically and mentally. He'd faced something that existed beyond normal reality, something that shouldn't exist at all, and barely managed to stop it.
But he had stopped it. With Kha'Zul's help, yes, but also with his own skill and determination.
Marcus Thorne was in his office when Astraeus arrived. The instructor took one look at him and stood. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse. A Voidborn trying to cross through a corrupted dimensional mirror."
Marcus's expression shifted from concern to alarm. "A Voidborn? Are you certain?"
"I sealed the portal, but it's temporary. The mirror needs to be destroyed by specialists."
Marcus was already moving, pulling out papers, writing rapidly. "Where is it?"
"Warehouse twelve, eastern district. I told the supervisor to lock it down."
"Good. I'll send a team immediately." Marcus looked at Astraeus with new respect. "You sealed a Voidborn portal by yourself? That's master-level magic."
"I had… instinctive knowledge. It just came to me in the moment."
Good save, Kha'Zul murmured.
Marcus studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Some mages have natural talent that manifests under pressure. You might be one of them. Either way, you've done the city a great service. That portal could have killed thousands if it had fully opened." He pulled a small, heavy pouch from a drawer and tossed it to Astraeus. "Your payment. Twenty silver, double the original offer, for hazardous duty. The guild rewards competence, Astraeus. Remember that."
Astraeus caught the pouch, the weight of it a solid, reassuring presence in his hand. "Thank you."
"Go back to your inn and rest. You've earned it. I'll handle the report to the Guildmaster."
Astraeus returned to the Copper Bell, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He'd faced a real dimensional threat, not just bandits or wild animals, and he'd survived. More than survived—he'd won. The experience had been terrifying, but it had also been… exhilarating. It was a confirmation that he was on the right path, that the power he was gaining had a purpose.
He woke to afternoon sunlight streaming through his window and the distant sounds of the city going about its business. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, his body heavy with the kind of exhaustion that came from pushing essence reserves to their absolute limit. Every muscle ached, and his head throbbed with a dull, persistent pain.
You're awake. Good. I was beginning to wonder if you'd sleep through the entire day.
"How long was I out?" Astraeus asked, his voice rough.
About six hours. Your body needed the rest. Combining our essences like that takes a toll on both of us.
Astraeus sat up slowly, wincing at the protest from his muscles. He pulled up his status screen, checking the damage.
[HEALTH: 130/130]
[ETHEREAL ESSENCE: 45/65]
[STAMINA: 60/100]
His essence had regenerated somewhat during sleep, but not completely. His stamina was still low, his body recovering from the strain. He needed food, water, and more rest before he'd be back to full capacity.
"That Voidborn," he said quietly. "If we hadn't stopped it…"
Thousands would have died. Maybe tens of thousands, depending on how long it took the guild to realize what was happening. Voidborn are patient hunters. They corrupt slowly, spreading like a disease through a population. By the time the symptoms are obvious, it's usually too late.
"How many of them are out there? Trying to break through?"
Impossible to say. Hundreds, certainly. Maybe thousands. Every weak point in the dimensional barriers is a potential entry point. And the barriers are weakening everywhere, not just here.
Astraeus stood and moved to the washbasin, splashing cold water on his face. The shock of it helped clear his head. "The God System chose me to be a Reality Anchor. To stop this. But I'm just one person."
You're one of several. There are other Anchors out there, each with their own bound entities, their own methods. You'll meet them eventually. Some will be allies. Others will be competitors or enemies. The system doesn't guarantee cooperation—it just gives you the tools to do the job.
"That's comforting," Astraeus said dryly.
I'm not here to comfort you. I'm here to keep you alive long enough to become useful.
Despite the harsh words, Astraeus heard something else in Kha'Zul's tone—a subtle shift that hadn't been there before. The demon had risked a lot by allowing their essences to combine. He could have tried to take control, to use that moment of vulnerability to break free or seize Astraeus's body. But he hadn't. He'd genuinely helped, adding his power without attempting betrayal.
That meant something. Even if neither of them wanted to acknowledge it yet.
He ordered a meal from the innkeeper, a hearty stew and a loaf of fresh bread, and ate in his room, his mind racing. He had money now, more than he'd ever had. He could buy new clothes, proper supplies, maybe even a better sword. But more than that, he had a purpose. He had a direction. He had a war to fight.
He spent the rest of the day in his room, meditating and studying the texts he'd acquired from the guild library. He focused on dimensional theory, on the nature of portals and rifts, on the different classifications of Voidborn. He was no longer just a student; he was a soldier, and this was his battlefield.
As evening fell, he felt a new sense of resolve settle over him. He was tired, he was sore, and he was in way over his head. But he was also alive. And he was ready for whatever came next.