“Is it still pending?” Melmarc’s mother asked.

  Even though Melmarc knew the answer, he still pulled up his interface to be sure. He thought of the notification that he was looking for and it appeared in front of him without any delay.

  [Permission requirement detected!]

  [Your Oath of Inevitability wishes to send a system message to all Oaths of your world.]

  [There are no system protocols in place detected.]

  [Would you like to allow system message to be sent?]

  …

  [Grant permission to send system message.]

  [Y/N]

  Discarding it with a thought, he turned to his mother and nodded.

  “Alright.”

  They were in the living room, and while the television was turned on, the volume had been muted. Melmarc’s dad sat next to his mother saying nothing as always. They were the only occupants of the three-seater couch that Uncle Dorthna liked to sleep on while Dorthna and Ark occupied the only two seater in the room.

  Melmarc sat on one of the two single chairs, which placed him closest to his mother.

  It had been a few days since their mother had returned, a week at least. While they continued to live as a normal family, Melmarc noticed the way his mother was around him.

  She didn’t hate him, he was old enough to know that much, but she treated him differently. As if to compensate for it, she was treating Ark the same way.

  It was in the subtle things. For one, she hadn’t touched him since she’d found out that he was the [August Intruder], and she loved touching. According to something Ninra had told them growing up on a warm afternoon when Ark complained about being touched, touching was their mother’s love language.

  The forehead kisses, the kisses on the cheeks, even the few times when she pinched or pulled on their cheeks, it was her non-verbal expression of love.

  And Melmarc had experienced none of it since her return.

  There was also her politeness. Their mother was naturally kind but now she was too kind. No. She was polite. He wasn’t sure how it worked in most families, but family members were meant to be kind, not polite. At least that’s what Melmarc thought.

  Melmarc didn’t know which hurt more, that his mother was treating him like a special guest in the house or that she was treating Ark the same way just so that he wouldn’t feel the weight of it.

  Because it meant that if she could change the way she treated Ark so that Melmarc wouldn’t feel left out, she could have simply changed the way she treated Melmarc. Whatever was on her mind must’ve been so strong that she couldn’t pretend to be normal.

  “Please stop frowning,” Melmarc’s mother said.

  Melmarc’s eyes moved to look at her. The mother he knew would simply tell him to stop smiling. There would be no please, but she would be nice about it.

  Now I get the please.

  Melmarc discarded the thought. One problem at a time, he told himself.

  “So,” his mother said. “What do you want to do about it?”

  Melmarc shrugged. “Personally, I don’t care. I have no idea who they are.”

  “That’s easy.” His mother leaned back, resting her back against his father’s large frame. “In the world, there are people called Oaths…”

  Melmarc already knew about Oaths, but he didn’t stop her.

  “They are technically the strongest Gifted,” his mother continued. “And while there aren’t a lot of us, there are still more Oaths than we know. At least more Oaths than I know. Anyway, every Oath has their problems, and we generally don’t get along.”

  “Why?”

  His mother’s lips puckered in thought. “I can’t really say for certain, but we all have different… opinions. And we have very strong opinions. It tends to lead to disagreements a lot.”

  Melmarc’s brows drew together in thought. Veebee said that he would need to work with the Oaths.

  If they are basically adults that can’t work together, how am I supposed to work with them?

  “But,” his mother said, drawing his attention. “Inevitability is one of the good ones.”

  “Good ones?” Ark asked suspiciously.

  Their mother turned to give him a nod. “Yes, Ark. Good ones.”

  “Good ones implies that there are bad ones,” Ark pointed out.

  “Well…” their mother stretched the word thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t necessarily say that there are—”

  “Careful,” Dorthna interrupted her with the most casual tone. “One of the perks of being what Mel is is gaining a lot of things. Right now, he’s a lot like your husband.”

  Their mother blinked. Her attention swiveled from Dorthna to Melmarc.

  “I can tell when people are lying,” he told her. “I think it’s a little more complicated than that, but it’s basically it.”

  She paused. “Oh.”

  Ark, however, sported one of the brightest smirks Melmarc had ever seen on him. “So there are bad Oaths.”

  Their mother let out a tired sigh and shot him a chiding glare. “Tar’arkna North Lockwood, wipe that smirk off your face before I wipe it off for you.”

  Ark snapped straight into composure. His smirk was gone faster than it had come. “Yes, mom.”

  Dorthna looked from Ark to their mother as if it was the most curious thing.

  “You know,” he said to no one in particular. “In some places, kids lose all forms of respect the moment they get their Class. Especially if it’s more powerful than their parents’. If it has the potential to be more powerful, the same thing happens.”

  “Well, this is the Lockwood house,” their mother pointed out. “He can be the devil himself and he’ll still have to obey the rules.”

  Dorthna’s gaze slid over to Ark very slowly. “Does he really?”

  To Melmarc’s surprise, he saw a moment of consideration cross Ark’s eyes. Is he really thinking about it?

  Ark caught Melmarc’s attention on him and whatever consideration Melmarc had seen disappeared.

  “Don’t go dreaming about it, kiddo,” Dorthna said to Ark. “I definitely won’t step in if your mom decides to beat you into next Christmas.”

  “I’m stupid and reckless,” Ark replied. “But I’m not that stupid and reckless. Besides, Ninra’ll probably get to me before mom does.”

  Their mother adjusted in her chair and the sound the action made drew everyone’s attention back to her.

  “As I was saying,” she said, pulling everyone back to the conversation, “Ark is right, there are bad Oaths. Before I left the whole Oath thing, we knew of at least three Oaths that weren’t very good people. Pride, Strength, and—”

  “Greed,” Dorthna jumped in. “But don’t worry about Greed. Greeds are always destined to be terrible Oaths societally speaking.”

  Remembering Eroms, Melmarc asked, “Is there such a thing as the Oath of Gluttony?”

  He knew he was jumping too far ahead but it felt better knowing that he would have to deal with the Oaths if one of them was already his friend.

  “There’s an Oath for almost any concept you humans can conceive,” Dorthna answered. “If there isn’t an Oath of Gluttony right now, then there will be eventually.”

  “No Oath of Gluttony,” his mother confirmed. “Not that we know of.”

  “Hold up.” Ark turned to look at Dorthna. “The Oath of Greed is always bad?”

  “Well, societal values work in a funny way and greed is one concept that cannot work with society.”

  “Because greed is greedy?”

  Dorthna snapped a finger at him. “Exactly. All it wants to do is take. There’s nothing else to it than taking. In simpler terms, sometimes people do things for some reason, to sow chaos, for vengeance, for power. Other people don’t care, they just want to watch the world burn. Greed isn’t motivated by anything but the will to take. They can, so they will. If they can’t, it won’t stop them from trying.”

  “So, Oath of Greed is bad,” Ark concluded. “Got it.”

  Dorthna chuckled. “Such a black and white method of explanation. But it should suffice… for now.”

  Melmarc looked at their mother. “So, if I allow this message go through, all the Oaths will get it?”

  “No exception,” their mother confirmed.

  “And there’s no way to pick and choose who gets it and who doesn’t?”

  “None.”

  That felt very lacking. A messaging system that couldn’t pick and choose who to send messages to was just very inefficient. It was like a chatting app with group chats but no private messaging.

  “So, am I allowing it?” Melmarc looked between his mom and dad.

  True to form, his father looked as if he couldn’t be bothered by it. Whether he allowed it or not was not his father’s problem. Sometimes it felt as if his father lived by the simplest rule; you do what you will and their father would do what he could do about it.

  “Don’t worry about your dad,” their mother said, clearly reading his expression. “He doesn’t care about these things. I know how much I had to work to get him to attend.”

  “Wait, so the fact that someone gets it doesn’t mean that they’ll attend?” Melmarc asked.

  “We rarely get up to fifteen Oaths in attendance normally,” his mother answered. “We used to get more many years ago but we lost a lot of Oaths during a specific portal run. Our numbers have been dwindled ever since.”

  “Many years ago?” Melmarc’s thoughts acted up almost immediately. “How many years ago?”

  “About thirty years ago. Why?”

  Melmarc had an idea of what she was talking about. Delano’s most mysterious conspiracy theory was about a group of Delvers who ruled the world from behind the scenes. Apparently, there had been a specifically terrible portal that had opened up somewhere in the north pole.

  From what he and his dark web companions’ research had turned up, twelve very powerful Delvers had gone into the portal but only four had come out. Why it had made its way into the conspiracy theory was because while the governments of the world had warned of how powerful it was and had sent in Delvers that they’d handpicked, despite the loses, there had been no changes to the ranking list at the time.

  “Was that the portal at the north pole?” Melmarc asked.

  His mother made a surprised face. “Yes. I didn’t think many people knew about that. How did you—oh. Delano.”

  Uncle Dorthna barked a short and amused laugh. “Thirty years ago. I remember that one. Those were good times.”

  “You were a part of that, Uncle D?” Ark asked.

  Dorthna shrugged. “I most certainly was.”

  “About this meeting,” Melmarc said. “Do the bad Oaths attend?”

  “No. But, like I said, a lot of Oaths don’t attend.”

  “Do I have to attend?”

  Their dad shook his head. “You will not attend.”

  His words were as simple as they were final. While everyone present took it with a finality, their mother smacked their father’s arm. Regardless, she didn’t say anything to him.

  She turned to Melmarc, instead. “Why do you ask, though?”

  “I’m the [August Intruder].” He shrugged. “I just assumed I would end up being a part of it.”

  “An [August Intruder],” Uncle Dorthna corrected. “Specificity is very important.”

  “I’m an [August Intruder],” Melmarc rectified.

  His mother leaned forward. “And do you want to attend?”

  “Dad said I won’t.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not the question I asked, Mel. Do you want to attend?”

  Melmarc’s gaze moved to his father. There was no reaction on the man’s expression, not that it surprised him.

  But did he want to attend, though? What was in it for him?

  You get to meet the powers that be, he told himself. And since you’re going to meet them, anyway, why not just get it out of the way?

  It was logical, but it was also very risky.

  “Will you and dad be attending?” he asked.

  “They want us to,” his mother answered. “One of them has already contacted me, asking me to bring your dad along.”

  “Must be really desperate if they’re inviting you,” Dorthna said with a chuckle. “Let me guess, she got on your husband’s bad side.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Melmarc’s father muttered a single word. “Shield.”

  As empty as the word sounded coming from him, it sounded too empty. It was as if his tone designed the word as a hollow shell. Something that was simply existing because no one had broken it yet.

  “Is that the Oath that got in your way?” Uncle Dorthna asked.

  Ark perked up so suddenly that Melmarc couldn’t stop his attention from snapping to his brother.

  “Are we going to be fighting Oaths?” he asked, enthusiastic.

  Their mother pointed a cautionary finger at him. “No one’s fighting anyone.”

  Ark deflated slightly, then shrugged as if it didn’t really matter.

  Dorthna gave him a cautioning look. “I can guess how nice it must feel, but you’ll need to keep those emotions in check, Ark. Don’t make me teach you control.”

  Ark nodded very carefully and Melmarc wondered what that had been about.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Mel,” his mother said, regaining his attention. “Do you want to attend? Do you want to meet the Oaths.”

  With bad Oaths running around, Melmarc knew one thing for certain. He was too weak to go delivering himself to the Oaths. For all he knew, they could all have varying opinions on his existence.

  The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in an argument between powerful people. After all, as Dorthna had already pointed out, he was weak.

  “Not really,” he answered finally. “I don’t think I want to.”

  His mother nodded slowly. “Well, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  “But we are going,” his father said.

  Melmarc’s mother looked at him. “You sure you want to go? You never want to go.”

  “Shield must be punished.”

  “Oh.” Melmarc’s mother frowned. “She must be.”

  Melmarc thought he saw something in her eyes or heard something in her voice, but he couldn’t be sure. The smile on Dorthna’s face, however, was something he did not miss.

  “Allow the message go through,” his mother said. “There has to be an invite for a meeting to happen.”

  Melmarc nodded, pulling up the notification and choosing a response.

  [Permission requirement detected!]

  [Your Oath of Inevitability wishes to send a system message to all Oaths of your world.]

  [There are no system protocols in place detected.]

  [Would you like to allow system message to be sent?]

  …

  [Grant permission to send system message.]

  [Y/N]

  Yes.

  A new notification popped up at his response.

  [You have chosen to permit message ‘The [August Intruder] has arrived. Meet at 4893 Lagos Street, Abuja, Nigeria to discuss further issues regarding this matter’]

  …

  [Grant permission to send system message?]

  [Y/N]

  Melmarc paused. “I can see the message.”

  “Really?” his mother sounded surprised. “What does it say?”

  “That they are meeting in Nigeria to discuss me.”

  His mother frowned.

  Dorthna let out a tired sigh. “Just grant it. I don’t see the big deal. It’s not like we didn’t know it was going to be about you. We should hurry this along, I’ve got things to do.”

  Melmarc agreed and granted permission.

  [Permission granted!]

  [Your Oath of Inevitability has sent system message ‘The [August Intruder] has arrived. Meet at 4893 Lagos Street, Abuja, Nigeria to discuss further issues regarding this matter’ to 26 Oaths.]

  Melmarc’s eyes widened in surprise. “There are twenty-six Oaths?”

  “I did not know that,” his mother said. “I thought there were only like sixteen. It means that there must be new Oaths.” She looked at her husband. “Do you know anything about the new Oaths?”

  Melmarc’s father shrugged in disinterest and their mother gave him a fond smile as if she’d expected the response.

  “Alright,” Dorthna clapped his hands together and rubbed them like a man with a plan. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, what’s next? Please say it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn?” Melmarc asked, confused. “For what?”

  “Not your turn yet,” his mother interrupted.

  Dorthna frowned and Ark raised his hand. “I’ve been quiet for a very long time,” he said. “I’m beginning to feel a little neglected over here.”

  “Would you like to talk about your [Demon King] class?” their mother asked.

  Ark made a face, then lowered his hand. “I’m more than happy to have Mel keep all the attention.”

  Melmarc snorted. “Wuss.”

  Ark wiggled his brows at him in triumph and sat back.

  Their mother looked between the both of them and sighed. “At least it’s good to see that you kids haven’t changed at all.”

  “We got taller,” Ark pointed out.

  “And your sister will be more than happy to compliment you on your new height,” their mom said. “At this point, everyone’s going to take one look at the both of you and think you’re tankers of some kind.”

  “Misrepresentation is also a strategy to victory,” Melmarc said. “If they’re wrong, we have a winning chance.”

  Dorthna chuckled. “Look at him, already thinking about whooping ass. They grow up so fast. Still doesn’t answer the question, though. What’s next?”

  Melmarc looked at his mother, but it was his father that answered.

  “The [Sage].”

  Their mother’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “The [Sage]?”

  Their father nodded.

  “Wait a minute.” She turned to Melmarc. “How do you know Naymondeel?”

  This was the first time that Melmarc was ever hearing someone call Naymond by the name the system had shown him.

  “Mr. Hitchcock was a part of my mentorship program,” he answered.

  His mother massaged her forehead with the heel of her palm as if she was suddenly tired. “Please tell me he was not the one in charge.”

  “He was not,” Melmarc said quickly. “But he was given delegated power.”

  “Let me guess. He played a large part in you ending up inside a portal.”

  “He also came in after me,” Melmarc offered, hoping it would help Naymond’s case somehow. The [Sage] was reckless, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t grown fond of him.

  Naymond had also taught him a few things about his skills.

  “And where is Naymondeel right now?” his mother asked.

  “Dad left him with the cops when we got out of the portal.”

  “If we’re lucky, he’s in jail,” his mother said with some relief. “So, why is he next?”

  “Because he has chosen to seek sanctuary from our son,” Melmarc’s father answered.

  Ark leaned towards Dorthna and asked, “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?” Dorthna didn’t take his eyes off Melmarc and his parents.

  “Sanctuary,” Ark clarified. “And [Sages].”

  “Sanctuary is safety and [Sages] are an interestingly annoying class.”

  Ark sighed. “It’s like everyone’s just ignoring me today.”

  “Because it’s not your turn yet,” Dorthna said with a chuckle. “Trust me, once your turn comes, you’ll be in deep shit. Remember, you have two family members that can tell when you’re lying.”

  Ark gulped visibly and Dorthna grinned.

  “Exactly.”

  “That idiot,” Melmarc’s mother muttered. “What gives him the right to seek sanctuary.”

  “I want to grant it,” Melmarc cut in suddenly.

  His mother’s attention snapped to him immediately. “What?”

  “I want to grant him sanctuary,” Melmarc repeated. “He might not be the most responsible, but he’s note a terrible person. Or is there something I should know that I don’t.”

  “There’s a price for everything, Mel,” his mother said slowly. “I granted him sanctuary once upon a time and it came at a cost.”

  “What’s the cost?”

  His mother looked from him to his father, then Dorthna. It was almost as if she was asking the other two for help. She sighed when nobody jumped in to help her.

  “If you grant him sanctuary,” she said, “it means that you have to give him tasks, quests. You have to keep him active. Which means that you either send him into portals or give him quests to complete.”

  “I can’t send him into portals so how do I give him quests?”

  “Giving him quests is not the problem,” his mother pointed out. “It’s rewarding him that’s the problem. If you give him quests, how do you give him system rewards.”

  Melmarc shrugged.

  “I had to make sacrifices for that to happen,” his mother told him. “I had to sacrifice my growth for his growth. Giving him sanctuary will ensure his safety, but it will weaken you. Your dad and I were the slowest growing Oaths because of him and your uncle Dorthna.”

  Melmarc’s gaze shifted slightly. “Because of Uncle Dorthna?”

  Dorthna made a shooing gesture at him. “Not my turn yet, kiddo.”

  “And what do you think about the whole [Sage] thing?” Melmarc found himself asking Dorthna.

  Once upon a time they had asked their uncle Dorthna questions about the Gifted because their parents were not around and they’d believed that he was a retired Delver. Now, whatever he was, they asked him questions because it looked like he knew more than their parents.

  “[Sages] are interesting creatures,” Dorthna said casually, uninterested. “They are capable of doing things that normal classes can’t do. Personally, I think everyone should know at least one [Sage]. If you can get one that you can trust, get them.”

  Melmarc looked at his parents as if that was all the answer he needed.

  “Besides,” Dorthna said. “It might slow your growth but it really won’t be as terrible as what happened with your mother. You are quite literally equipped with making people stronger.”

  At uncle Dorthna’s words, Melmarc remembered what Veebee had told him.

  “[EP],” he muttered.

  His mother’s attention sharpened on him. “What’s that?”

  “A perk of being an [August Intruder],” Dorthna answered. “It helps him grow as well as grow others.”

  Melmarc could use it to grant Naymond skill and stat growth. For every quest he completed, he could just reward the [Sage] with some [EP].

  “That means I have to be entering portals,” he said to himself.

  Dorthna cocked a brow. “That’s not the only way to gain [EP], though.”

  Melmarc remembered Veebee saying something about being able to gain [EP] as if it was supposed to be the easiest thing.

  Everything has [EP].

  Dorthna’s hand snapped out very suddenly, snatching something from the air. He got up, moved to the center table and placed his hand on it. When he removed his hand, there was a housefly on the table.

  Melmarc frowned at it. He was almost a hundred percent certain that there had been no housefly in the room throughout their conversation.

  Either he summoned it somehow or I’m wrong.

  Whichever it was, that was not what was important.

  Ark cocked a brow. “A housefly.”

  Dorthna gave him the flattest expression Melmarc had ever seen. “Yes, Ark. A housefly.”

  “And what are we doing with the housefly?” Melmarc asked. A part of him felt like he already had the answer to the specific question.

  Dorthna’s response was simple. “Kill it.”

  Melmarc cocked a brow at him but got up from his seat and approached the table. Somehow he found it interesting that he was more interested in how Dorthna had gotten the housefly than why his uncle wanted him to kill it.

  The housefly sat very casually on the table, looking at nothing.

  Melmarc smacked it casually with his hand.

  His interface popped up.

  [You have slain Housefly]

  [You have gained EP 0.0002]

  “Oh.”

  It seemed Veebee had meant it literally. Everything had [EP].

  I just have to be willing to kill it.

  “If that had been a person,” Dorthna said. “Would you have killed them?”

  Melmarc blanked. The answer was very obvious. “No.”

  Dorthna nodded. “Remember that.”

  Melmarc wasn’t sure what that was about. There was certainly a difference between killing a housefly and killing a human being.

  Dorthna smiled fondly at him. “It seems difficult and doesn’t make sense right now, right?”

  “Honestly,” Melmarc said. “It doesn’t.”

  His mother was very quiet.

  “And it won’t until far into the future,” Dorthna said. “If you live long enough. One day, you could become so powerful that a simple human will become as insignificant to you as a housefly plucked out of thin air. You didn’t kill it because you were cruel or evil. You killed it because it was insignificant. It did not matter.”

  “True,” Melmarc agreed. “But a person isn’t insignificant. A person matters.”

  “Now,” Dorthna said in correction. “A person matters now. One day, they will not. You’re a logical kid so I can ask this without expecting a stupid reply from you. If killing one man will save the world, will you do it?”

  Melmarc frowned. He didn’t like the fact that his uncle had just told him that any other answer than the one expected of him would be stupid. Regardless, he knew himself, and he knew the answer he was going to give.

  He had never been one to argue for argument’s sake. If killing one man would save the world, the response was a no brainer.

  “If it will save the world, then as difficult as it sounds, yes,” he said. “If the person doesn’t die, then the whole world dies, and the person dies, regardless.”

  His mother let out a quiet breath, but Melmarc heard it.

  “And right there, in that moment,” Dorthna said, “a person has become insignificant. Given the right circumstances, Mel, even a person can become insignificant. If you ever come to wield great enough power, even an Oath can become insignificant.”

  Melmarc squinted at his uncle, unable to stop himself. Is that regret in his voice?

  “Remember that,” Dorthna said in the end.

  A strong silence settled over the room. There was something heavy about it, something powerful. It was as if an important moment in Melmarc’s life had just taken place.

  Ark broke the silence.

  “So a housefly is significant?”

  “Nope.” Dorthna shrugged. “Insects are insignificant. People, too, if we are being honest.”

  “But you just told me that I should never think of them as insignificant,” Melmarc said, confused.

  “That’s because you’re people, too. Insects don’t think that insects are insignificant, so you should never think that people are insignificant. Anyway, get yourself a [Sage], they are an amusing class. As for how you intend to reward his quests,” Dorthna pointed at the dead housefly, “I’ve shown you how to increase your supply of [EP] to reward him.” He looked at their parents. “I take it that should solve the [Sage] problem, correct?”

  Their mother was frowning, but she nodded. “It does. The only problem now would be dealing with the man’s personality. Mel’s too straightforward while Naymondeel is completely sly.”

  Melmarc could not disagree with that. The man had a bad habit of saying ten different things when he only meant one thing. It made him a hard man to understand or follow.

  He had me arranging other people’s offices without even knowing what was really happening, he thought, remembering the early days of his mentorship program.

  “Go ahead,” his mother said with a gesture. “Accept his request. I’m sure he’ll get a notification wherever he is.”

  Melmarc thought of Naymond’s request, and his interface popped up in front of him.

  [Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) requests Oath sanctuary]

  …

  [As an August Intruder you are currently granted partial Oath rights to your world.]

  [You meet the qualifications to grant a Guest or Intruder temporary sanctuary.]

  [Would you like to grant Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) sanctuary?]

  [Y/N?]

  Yes.

  [You cannot renege on this decision. However, you can always withdraw offered sanctuary in the event that Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) proves detrimental to you or your world.]

  “Oh,” Melmarc muttered after reading it.

  “Is there a problem?” his mother asked.

  He shook his head. “It’s just telling me that I can always withdraw the offer of sanctuary.”

  “You can?” His mother sounded surprised. “I didn’t get that option. He was mine and that was that.”

  “So how did you keep him in line?” Ark asked.

  Their mother shrugged. “Threat of bodily harm. He was a prisoner, after all.”

  Ark grinned. “Nice.”

  “Is it my turn now?” Dorthna asked lazily.

  “Not yet,” their mother answered. “You have until the end of the week.”

  “The week ends in two days,” Melmarc offered.

  “Then he has two days.”

  Dorthna looked at their mother like a parent looking at a petulant child. If Melmarc hadn’t already met Veebee and known what he currently knew, it would’ve seemed disrespectful.

  Dorthna got and dusted his pants. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the kitchen getting a cup of hot water.”

  With that, he was gone.

  He cut through the living room and made his way for the dining area, from there he would find the kitchen. The moment he was out of sight, Ark turned to their parents.

  “What is Uncle Dorthna?” he asked in a quiet voice. “Is he like a demi-god or something?”

  Their mother snorted. “Definitely an or something, that’s for sure.”

  “You…” Ark raised his brows in surprise. “You don’t know.”

  “He is a mystery,” their father said simply.

  Their mother leaned forward to from side to side as if it would help her tell if Uncle Dorthna was listening to them.

  “Once upon a time we went into a portal that led to angels,” she said.

  Ark and Melmarc perked up at that.

  “That’s where we found him,” their mother said. “He was locked up somewhere. He’s not a bad person, but be careful with him. He knows far too much, and he is definitely a threat. He’s just not a threat to us right now. For whatever reason, I think he wants something from us.”

  “So he was a prisoner?”

  “Not just a prisoner,” their mother explained. “We saw different prisons with different cells and prisoners. Your Uncle had his own cell in his own section in his own prison. He had an entire prison built just for him.”

  “Oh.”

  Melmarc looked from Ark to his mother and asked, “Why are we whispering?”

  Ark opened his mouth to answer then closed it.

  It wasn’t like whispering would somehow make it so that their uncle wouldn’t hear them. Ark and their uncle had heard their mother pull into the street when she’d returned home. If he could hear that far, then he could definitely hear people whispering about him.

  “Now that you point it out,” Ark said. “You’re right.”

  Their mother shook her head. “He’s not listening.”

  “He does not eavesdrop.” There was enough certainty in their father’s voice for Melmarc to believe him.

  Dorthna walked in a moment later with a mug of hot water held with both hands. He strolled in casually, sipping at it as if the cup held something actually interesting and not just hot water. He ended up beside Ark and took a seat.

  “So, what’s next?” he asked.

  When nobody said anything immediately, he looked between them.

  “Did I miss something?”

  “We were talking about you,” their father said to everyone’s surprise.

  Dorthna chuckled. “Terrible things, I hope. Have you told them about your upgrades, Mel?”

  “Upgrades?” his mother asked.

  Melmarc nodded. “I’ve got a few. I also have a skill that didn’t evolve or give me an alternative at ten percent.”

  Dorthna waved his words aside with a casual gesture before his mother could say anything. “That’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope.”

  “But I thought skills are supposed to evolve at ten percent.”

  Dorthna cocked a brow. “Supposed to? Do you have some interface handbook I don’t know about that says all skills evolve at ten percent?”

  “It’s just that skills evolve at ten percent.”

  “That skills evolve every ten percent doesn’t mean that skills are supposed to evolve every ten percent. When your skill increases by ten percent your interface offers you an evolution. Your interface, however, never said that your skill will always upgrade every ten percent, did it?”

  Melmarc shook his head.

  “Then there’s your answer.” Dorthna paused to take another sip of his hot water. “Skills evolve whenever they evolve. If it doesn’t evolve at ten percent, then that means that it’s a strong skill. Which one hasn’t evolved?”

  Melmarc hesitated. “[Rings of Saturn].”

  “Oh.” Dorthna nodded in a sign of interest. “You took it in the end. I guess it’s no surprise that it hasn’t evolved. Pure mana skills are usually very powerful. It might evolve at twenty percent, though.”

  “I guess that answers that,” his mother said. “Your skills are what’s next. What do you have to deal with?”

  “Five percent of mastery to be added to any skill of my choice,” Melmarc said. “And around thirty stat points to allocate.”

  Ark gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of stat points. You’re going to be a walking monster at this rate.”

  Melmarc raised a brow at him. “Says the [Demon King].”

  Ark wiggled his brows in satisfaction.

  “Enough of that, boys,” their mother interrupted. “Mel, if you’re upgrading your stats, it is advisable to upgrade them in relationship to your skills. It is what helps. Grow your stats according to your class.”

  “Such human thinking,” Dorthna muttered in disappointment.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Melmarc asked.

  Dorthna sat forward. “You are not a [Faker]. You are an [August Intruder]. There’s a difference. Upgrade your stats based on what you want to be physically and everything else will fall in line.”

  Melmarc looked at his parents and the both of them nodded. It was reluctant but he knew the reluctance was more out of the realization that his mother was wrong than any form of disagreement.

  “So, it begs the question,” his mother said. “What do you want to be?”

  “Mana based, Agility based…” Ark paused for dramatic effect as a slow smile spread his lips. “Or Strength based?”