Summoning a plain mask that looked as if it had been crafted from Wooloo’s marble-white horns, he slipped it over his face and pulled the hood of his coat up, shrouding his features in shadow. The material shimmered faintly—dense yet impossibly smooth, retaining the natural luster of the Fellhorn’s aether-infused bone.

  The mask itself was simple yet elegant. Its surface curved with purpose, molded to fit without flaw, and bore no eye or mouth holes—only stillness. Painted across it in a delicate diagonal sweep were pale cherry blossom petals, soft and subtle, as if carried by a spring breeze. The imagery evoked the fleeting beauty of a Japanese spring—graceful, ephemeral, and timeless.

  Despite its minimalism, the mask held quiet power. It wasn’t just concealment. It was a statement. A fragment of his bond with Wooloo—a piece of the Ardent Eclipse itself—now worn as a mantle.

  And when the wind stirred, the petals on the mask almost seemed to drift.

  The force he’d been studying—testing with each precise flick of his fingers—had finally revealed its name.

  [System Notification: Force Recognition Achieved]

  [Minor Force Unlocked: Pulsewind Force – Emits short-range shock pulses through air pressure. Can be used to interrupt enemy footing, apply pressure, or deliver invisible jabs.]

  He exhaled lightly, feeling the feedback settle into his limbs. The sensation was subtle—like the space around his body had become lighter, sharper. More reactive.

  Shifting through the forces linked to the connections he’d formed, he settled on another.

  Thunder Force.

  Electricity crackled across his skin. Sharp, audible snaps echoed from his arms and fingertips, steady and rhythmic. At the same time, the wind swirling around him began to shift—Wind Force responding in sync.

  Two separate forces—now searching for harmony.

  The pulses of air and bursts of electricity started moving together. A beat. A rhythm. One timed to the other.

  Crackle. Whisper. Pulse.

  The two currents began to align.

  The pressure around him built—not violently, but like a storm gathering form. Sparks bled into air, then vanished, carried away by unseen currents. Pulses of wind matched the tempo of electric bursts until they coalesced.

  A unified stream surged through his body—calm, focused, electric.

  A heartbeat made of aether.

  [System Update: Force Synergy Detected — Wind Force + Thunder Force]

  [Synergy Condition: Stable]

  [Additional Trait Unlocked: Storm Pulse – Amplifies Pulsewind bursts with electric pressure. Interference chance: Moderate. Enhanced destabilization effect against armored or grounded enemies.]

  Kei’s eyes didn’t flicker. His breath was smooth.

  But the storm inside him was beginning to breathe.

  Leaping from his branch, Kei landed silently beside Jin and Kaito—then moved past them without a word. His steps were steady, yet something undeniable pulled at him. A quiet, irresistible urge to confront the new presence. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t planned. But his will offered no resistance. He simply had to meet her.

  The same pull had gripped Silvie. Even as chaos raged around them—earth cracking, boar roaring, spells detonating—they gave it no attention. The battlefield fell away. Their eyes, their focus, belonged only to each other.

  Talia, Kai, Owen, and Reese all turned to watch Kei’s silent advance toward the vine-clad figure, confusion plain on their faces.

  Lisa’s gaze locked onto him too, brows knit in the same puzzled frown. She could feel something—off, yet compelling—gathering between the two.

  Jenny, fresh from detonating her kinetic symphony, landed lightly beside Kaito, her body relaxed but her gaze sharp. She didn’t say a word at first. Her eyes drifted between Kei and Silvie… then to Jin. He was watching the same thing, brows low, expression unreadable.

  Jenny’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’re rather sneaky,” she muttered, finally speaking—but not to Jin. Her voice was soft, lilting with amusement. “Would you mind getting my scythe for me?” she asked Kaito, her gaze still locked on the pair across the field.

  Kaito blinked. “Huh?”

  Then he found her scythe and stiffened. The battlefield was a mess—craters, ruptured ground, jagged pillars of earth jutting up like death traps. Her scythe had landed right in the middle of it.

  He swallowed hard. “If you want to punish me for something, don’t you think sending me to my death is a bit harsh?” He forced a laugh, light and nervous.

  Jenny didn’t answer. Neither did Jin.

  Both stared ahead—unblinking, breath held—as Kei and Silvie closed the distance.

  As he drew closer, Silvie’s inventory reacted—violently. She spared it a glance, brows furrowing, but didn’t resist. Whatever was happening, she allowed it to happen.

  A sudden flash of dark violet light tore from her inventory and shot across the battlefield, heading straight for Kei. His instincts flared. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a curtain of wind—just enough to soften the impact as the object slammed into his palm. The force staggered him slightly, but he caught it.

  “So there really is another one,” Silvie said, her voice filled with surprised realization. “For so long, I thought I’d be the only one Earth gave birth to. And to think… you’ve advanced even further than I have.”

  Kei steadied himself, eyes flicking down at the object now resting in his hand. He sighed.

  “I really can’t get rid of this thing,” he muttered. “You want it back?”

  “You don’t want that?” Silvie blinked, confused. “Do you not know what that is?”

  “Should I?” Kei asked, tilting his head slightly. “And what do you mean by ‘someone like me’?”

  As his gaze narrowed on her, he instinctively tried to scan her—but unlike most, something blocked him. He could see her name... but nothing else. No level. No stats. No progression. A fog wrapped around her identity.

  Then, his will surged.

  The shift was immediate.

  The entire battlefield staggered beneath its weight. Jin and Jenny braced instinctively. Even the Ravager faltered mid-roar.

  And just like that, her title appeared—flickering for a heartbeat before stabilizing.

  Kei’s eyes sharpened. “Are you referring to…” he started—but stopped himself. Whatever words were on the edge of his tongue, he swallowed them before they escaped.

  He looked away.

  And then—annoyed by the still-roaring boar in the background—Silvie finally acted.

  From beneath the scorched, broken terrain, monstrous vines erupted, thick as boulders and glowing with natural energy. They surged upward, wrapping tightly around the Ironsworn Ravager.

  With a violent, downward yank, she slammed the Apex Beast into the ground—hard.

  The earth cracked.

  The vines constricted.

  The Ravager bellowed in agony.

  And for the first time since the raid began… it couldn’t move.

  “I’ve been wanting some new equipment,” Silvie said casually, adjusting her oversized, crooked glasses. “The set dropped from this boar should pair nicely with the Flood Hare’s gear. You must’ve gotten something impressive from the Zephyr Monkey, right? I don’t mind sharing the Ironsworn Ravager’s loot with you.”

  Her tone was light, but the battlefield was still reeling from the display she’d just put on.

  Everyone stared.

  Floored.

  The idea that such overwhelming power had come from someone who looked so small, so unassuming—it didn’t compute.

  Kei, however, didn’t flinch.

  “I haven’t gotten anything from the Zephyr Monkey,” he replied flatly. “It’s still alive. And I have no intention of letting its life be taken—by me, or anyone else.”

  His words carried weight—not aggressive, but firm. A subtle warning laced in quiet resolve.

  Silvie blinked in surprise. “Huh… really?”

  But Kei wasn’t finished.

  His hand tightened slightly around the object he had caught. “Also,” he said, eyes narrowing, “what is this thing? What are we? And why should I have known what it is?”

  The moment he asked, the faint pulse of combined forces flared around him. Wind and Thunder, already moving in rhythm, began to thrum louder—brighter.

  And then, a third joined.

  Stormwind Force.

  It coiled in uninvited—drawn like a predator to blood—refusing to be left out.

  The forces swirled together, not clashing, but blending. A tempest forming at the edge of clarity, dancing on the precipice of control.

  The system responded.

  [System Alert: Unique Force Combination Detected]

  [Forces: Storm Pulse | Stormwind]

  [Status: Compatible Synergy — Initiating Minor Harmonization Path]

  The air around Kei trembled.

  Wind twisted and curled with jagged streaks of lightning—threads of pressure, current, and raw storm essence weaving together into something more than the sum of its parts. The wind no longer whispered—it cracked, every breeze edged with voltage, each pulse thudding like a war drum in his bones.

  Storm Pulse surged from his fingertips like a heartbeat.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Stormwind wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak.

  And now, they began to merge.

  Aether coiled. Harmonized.

  Lightning took the lead—asserting itself with dominance, carving sharp angles into the wind’s flow. Thunder boomed not from the sky, but from the charged space around his body, demanding presence. The swirling force became tighter, denser—on the verge of forming something new.

  But Kei didn’t react.

  He stood still.

  Mask in place. Hood drawn. The wind howling quietly at his back.

  He stared at the object in his hand—the one that had launched itself from Silvie’s inventory. Still faintly warm. Still humming with some unknown significance.

  And then, slowly, he looked up—locking eyes with her again.

  Waiting.

  Not moving. Not asking.

  Just silently demanding an answer.

  And the storm… waited with him.

  His response left her so floored that when she tilted her head in confusion, her glasses somehow aligned perfectly with her face—despite the odd angle.

  “You’re strange,” she said. “But not many of us tend to be normal in the first place. It’s just in our nature, really.”

  “And what is our nature, exactly?” Kei asked, voice calm and patient.

  She was about to answer but paused—her gaze drifting to the side. A group of curious onlookers was watching them far too intently. No one knew who she was, but after that display of power, none of them could look away.

  As for him… he remained a mystery. For those who didn’t know him, there was no frame of reference—just a masked figure calmly facing a force of nature as if he had every right to question her.

  Angered by being slammed into the ground, the Ravager roared again. One of its tusks began to glow—heat warping the air around it as magma bubbled along its length before firing forward like a molten spear. The sheer heat scorched nearby fighters who’d gotten too close.

  Its target was Silvie.

  Neither of them reacted.

  Kei raised his arm and swung it in a smooth, fluid motion.

  The swirling fusion of Wind, Thunder, and Stormwind Forces—still incomplete, not yet fully formed—responded instinctively. A raw arc of compressed wind and volatile lightning burst forth, unrefined but violently synchronized. The slash tore through the magma tusk mid-air, scattering molten debris harmlessly into the dirt.

  The force didn’t stop.

  It carried on, crashing into the Ravager’s side and flooding it with unstable current—waves of electrical pressure forcing its limbs to convulse uncontrollably.

  “I think I got off easy…” Kaito muttered, nearly breathless. The memory of their fight resurfaced like cold water over his spine.

  Kai, Talia, Owen, and Reese exchanged looks. Something wasn’t right about Kei. He wasn’t acting like the calm observer they remembered. The stillness was there—but something inside it was shifting. Building.

  Jin and Jenny said nothing.

  They watched in silence.

  The silver rings around Jin’s wrists spun tighter—preparing for a choice. To burn a path. Or to glimpse one.

  But for now, he waited.

  So did the storm.

  Because whatever was forming inside Kei...

  Wasn’t finished yet.

  “We should head somewhere more quiet,” Kei said, his voice barely above the breeze—as he folded into the wind and appeared beside her in an instant.

  Silvie blinked, her large brown eyes.

  And then—they were gone.

  To the onlookers, it was as if the masked figure vanished, appeared before the girl, and disappeared again. No fanfare. No buildup. Just motion erased by wind.

  Jin stared at the empty space where they had stood. With a soft breath, the twin silver rings on both his wrists collapsed inward, releasing a thin shimmer of silver light that laced his frame like drifting threads. His stance shifted—grounded, but ready.

  Kaito returned, Jenny’s scythe in hand. She reached out toward him, fingers expectant.

  Understanding her intent, he pressed his hand to hers—Lunar Edge Force surging from his body and flowing into her.

  The top half of the scythe ignited in a burning crimson glow, while a second blade formed at the opposite end—shaped of compressed Wind Force. The weapon had become a twin-bladed scythe, elegant and violent. Its core pulsed with layered sound energy, the handle humming in resonance with her movements. And with the infusion of Lunar Edge directly into her body, Jenny's presence shifted—cool, serene, luminous.

  She radiated moonlight.

  Turning toward the restrained Ironsworn Ravager, she adjusted her crooked glasses with a casual flick.

  “It’s time to end this,” she said. “Something more interesting is about to happen.”

  Jin nodded silently. Kaito sheathed his swords and fell into position.

  Jenny twirled the twin-blade scythe once, sound crackling in its wake.

  And everyone else followed suit.

  They moved as one.

  The raid resumed with decisive precision—blades flashing, forces flaring, spells unleashed in unison.

  And far from the chaos, Kei and Silvie reappeared.

  Quiet. Distant.

  Exactly where they needed to be.

  “You’re mean. This is kidnapping. I’m hungry. I want a donut. Why’d you bring me here?”

  Silvie’s mouth rattled off complaints in rapid-fire succession—only to trail into a heavy yawn. Without ceremony, she flopped backward and promptly fell asleep on the grass.

  Kei blinked, pulled off his mask, and stared down at her—stunned, but entirely unbothered.

  With a shrug, he pulled out a few food items from his inventory and began to eat.

  “Would be really nice to make donuts,” he muttered between bites. “Still haven’t found a proper oil substitute… though baked donuts wouldn’t kill me. Just need flour, sugar, maybe a few other things.”

  The aroma must’ve reached her.

  Because just as suddenly as she’d fallen asleep, Silvie sat up, eyes wide and sparkling. “Can I have some?” she asked, her large brown eyes practically glowing.

  “Answer my question first.”

  “I’m hungry!!!”

  Her cry was met with silence... other than the slow, deliberate sound of chewing.

  “You’re really going to be mean to a kid?” she said, clutching her sides dramatically. “I’m only fourteen! I need nutrition. Look at me—I’m nothing but bones! I’m wasting away!”

  Her voice cracked with the weight of fake tragedy. If there were an award for dramatics, she was a shoe-in.

  Kei raised an eyebrow. “So I’m only a year older than you?”

  “Not surprised,” she said breezily, already recovering. “Existence usually births us close to one another.”

  While she spoke, a vine slithered out from behind her—sneaking toward the food.

  Kei didn’t stop it. He just watched her.

  “And what are we?” he asked. “Is it what your title said?”

  That made her freeze.

  She hadn’t expected him to see it.

  Silvie blinked, then pouted in defeat—her vine still failing to snatch up a bite.

  “...I almost got away with it,” she mumbled.

  [Status Screen]

  [Name]: Silvie Nicole

  [Title]: God Spark

  [Class]: Locked

  [Force Alignment]: Vine (with Nature Affinity)

  [Level]: 10

  “How many of ‘us’ are there?” Kei asked, handing her the last of his food.

  Silvie snatched it greedily, chomping down between words.

  “As many as there are Grand Forces, really. One of us for each… Mmm, this is good. Did you make this? Can you make me more? What’s your name? Where’d you get this food from? Ooooh—monkey! Wait, that’s the Zephyr Monkey! Let’s kill it!”

  The words tumbled out in a single, breathless stream, her eyes lighting up at the last part.

  Whack.

  Kei smacked her on the head with his weapon—the same unassuming, brutal thing he used on Owen, Draggbane, and Kaito.

  “Owwwwwwww!” she wailed, holding her head with both hands. “But the monkey boss is right there!”

  Whack.

  Another bop. Her big eyes swirled like dizzy spirals.

  “But—”

  Whack.

  She groaned, dramatically collapsing backward. “Would you stop hitting me in the head with a brick?!”

  Kei said nothing. Just stood there with that calm, unbothered silence that somehow made it worse.

  She glared up at him with her cheeks puffed out.

  “What are God Sparks?” Kei asked as she rubbed her head fiercely, tears welling up from the repeated smacks.

  “We’re meant to be the sole beings in existence born with the highest potential to become the supreme gods of our force,” she grumbled, sniffling dramatically between words. “I’m Nature… and you seem like you’re Lightning. Kinda cool how you melded Wind into yours.”

  Then, as if suddenly determined to impress him, she spun her hand in a flourish and drew moisture from the air. Water droplets formed around her fingers, suspended like beads of glass.

  “Nature includes water too,” she said, grinning proudly. “Which means Water Force is accessible to me as well. Neat, huh?”

  She winked, clearly fishing for praise—still rubbing the spot on her head where the “brick” had landed.

  Not wanting to correct her, Kei let her believe his main force was Lightning.

  “Why does it seem like you know so much about this stuff?” he asked her as he prepared more food.

  Her eyes remained fixed on Zeph. “Because I was found when I was young, and trained to be Earth’s trump card. All of this might be brand new to the rest of this world’s iteration, but records were left behind by our predecessors.”

  “Is that why you know what this thing is? And why hasn’t the world been told about any of this ahead of time—to prepare?”

  “That worldstone fragment,” she said, pointing to the object he held, “is a key to obtaining information from an Exalted Dungeon in this first expanse. We still need to find it, though. And only we can qualify to access the information it holds.”

  Kei’s eyes quietly darted to the side.

  He didn’t say a word about the fact that he’d already found the dungeon.

  “Why don’t you know this stuff?” she asked, finally glancing back at him. “Haven’t you been found? Trained? Taught how any of this works?”

  “Found, yes,” he replied. “Trained and taught? Not so much.”

  To answer his other question, she added, “I’m not too sure why the rest of the world wasn’t told about all this, but there were measures put in place to slowly introduce the concept. Science was created as a way to explore and study forces—because Earth basically had no access to aether. Everything we’ve managed to develop so far is just force manipulation without aether.”

  She shrugged.

  “In the grander scheme of existence, that makes us no different than toddlers—not even qualified to enter kindergarten. So really… what would’ve been the point of telling everyone?”

  “Better question,” she said, tilting her head, “why did it seem like my title was the first time you’d ever heard of God Sparks? Have you not unlocked yours yet?”

  Kei glanced at his status screen.

  [Name]: Kei Yuichi

  [Title]: He Who Denies Fate | Hidden Title (Yet to be accepted)

  “I don’t seem to have a God Spark title,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Why would you think I’m one too?”

  She didn’t hesitate.

  “Simple. The worldstone fragment flew back to you on its own. For it to do that, it would have to return to the one who originally earned it—and someone with higher force progression than me. I’ve pushed mine to 40%, and that alone is absurd for anyone at this stage.”

  She held up a finger. “But… there’s only one kind of person who could reach the cap for force progression under the first cultivation realm.”

  Her eyes locked onto his.

  “A God Spark.”

  She smiled, then leaned forward slightly.

  “And the most obvious giveaway? The aether loves you. Adores you. Worships the ground you walk on.”

  She casually waved a hand as if it were common sense. “Because of our potential, we’re born with ridiculously high Charisma stats. Insane numbers. Enough to outshine even cultivators above our realm. And aether? It flocks to us. Craves us.”

  A pause.

  “It’s like giving a crackhead a choice between a sandwich and drugs—and we’re basically the most refined, potent, purest source of crack in existence.”

  Kei blinked slowly.

  She kept going. “And also… is it that you don’t have the title—or you’ve just never accepted it?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes drifted back to the [Hidden Title] prompt.

  She noticed.

  “You really should accept it,” she said, voice calm but firm. “Whether you like it or not, that title is your reason for existing. Your purpose in this world. Running from it won’t change anything.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  Then her tone shifted.

  “And one more thing.”

  A whip—familiar and laced with hostile nature energy—flashed into her hand. The very same one from the Flood Hare’s drop. The moment it appeared, Kei felt the environment turn. The vines curled. The ground tensed. The very air bent with warning.

  Nature itself became hostile.

  Her large brown eyes locked onto Zeph for a second… then slowly shifted to Kei, glowing with a radiant, ethereal green.

  “Who told you I needed your permission to kill that monkey?”

  As if her question hadn’t even registered as a threat, Kei stopped cooking mid-motion.

  His head lowered slightly. Shoulders relaxed.

  Then he smiled.

  It wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t mocking.

  It was soft. Almost… fragile.

  And then—tears welled up at the corners of his eyes.

  Happy ones.

  “You mean… there’s a reason for me to exist?” he asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not just some burden?”

  Silvie blinked.

  Whatever pressure she’d just unleashed—the wrath of nature, the crackling threat of her whip—it all froze in place. Her grip loosened slightly as she stared at him, caught completely off guard.

  Because for the first time…

  He didn’t look mysterious or intimidating.

  He just looked like a boy.

  A boy who’d been waiting far too long to hear those exact words.