Alex was cool, calm—even as time itself seemed to bend around him.
"HUGHES GENERATION VARIANT."
That's what he activated in the fight with Nicolas. Now, his legs pulsed with a radiant glow, each step flickering like starfire.
In that distorted slow-motion, Alex appeared to move normally. No—he moved faster than normal. Ronan was lunging, dagger sideways, aiming for Harry's face. The blade had already grazed his cheek.
There was no time to reinforce another limb. So Alex didn't.
Instead, he launched forward—and kicked.
The moment his foot struck Ronan, time snapped back.
Ronan flew, crashing into a nearby stone wall with a dull thud. His cloak shredded. Dust filled the air.
Harry clutched his cheek as blood trickled down. He stared at the crimson on his fingertips, expression frozen. Then his knees buckled.
Emily and Nicolas rushed to his side. Sir Alric Valthorne and Annie the Esper stood unmoved, like statues of indifference.
Ronan, somehow, was back on his feet—blood in his mouth, bruises blooming across his skin. He spat to the ground and laughed—a guttural, unhinged sound. Only Alric and Annie noticed it.
By now, a crowd had formed. The guards posted at the gate pushed through. They found only blood and a dented wall—Ronan was gone.
Nicolas wrapped an arm around Harry. "Are you all right?"
Harry's voice trembled. "I... I was just following you."
Emily held him close. "Forget him for now. We need to get you to the infirmary."
Together, they carried Harry back into Yheka.
Alric watched them disappear, muttering under his breath. "It's that damn Ronan again... pulling a stunt just to test the boys' strength. Bastard's late—again."
Annie said nothing. She rarely did.
But then—Ronan reappeared. Between them. His cloak in tatters, face bloodied, eyes alight with something far too eager."We won't be late. That boy, Alex... he's going to be very useful to us."
With a crooked smile, he vanished once more.
Alex didn't react. He stood silently, distant, his expression unreadable.
He didn't feel strong. He couldn't even believe in his own strength.
Alric approached him, a rough hand landing gently on Alex's shoulder. "Your generation variant is beautiful. If you can awaken it... I'm guessing you come from a noble bloodline?"
Alex nodded. "We're nobles of this kingdom."
Alric's gaze narrowed. "How did your family inherit such a power?"
"My father treated us like slaves. His father did the same to him. They made him toil in the fields as a child. That's why I can use it better than others my age. I've... had practice."
Alric sighed. "I don't know whether to pity you or be proud. But I'll choose pride. You made that curse your weapon."
He gave Alex a friendly pat—just a little too strong.
Alex immediately collapsed.
"Ah, hell—sorry," Alric winced. "Didn't mean to hit you that hard."
"No, no... it's not that. My legs are just... stiff. Too much strain."
Alric crouched and lifted Alex onto his back. He was broad and sturdy, built like a fortress. Carrying a sixteen-year-old was nothing to him.
The trio—Alric, Annie, and Alex—stayed behind, heading back toward the Black Road.
Meanwhile, Harry was still trembling. Emily and Nicolas supported him as they made their way to the infirmary where they trained as knights. His fear hadn't faded.
Emily placed a hand on his chest. "It's all right. You'll have moments like this again. Get used to fear, Harry. Let it teach you."
She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped the blood from his face.
Nicolas offered quiet support. "Breathe in slow. Through your nose. Out through your mouth. That's it."
They arrived. The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Yes? What happened?"
Emily leaned close and whispered, "He nearly died. I'm afraid it's not the wound—it's the trauma."
"Understood. Let him rest here. I'll monitor him."
Harry lay on the bed, shaking. Nicolas sat beside him.
"Want us to stay?"
Harry nodded weakly. "Please."
Emily explained the situation to the doctor as he covered Harry with a blanket. "At his age," the doctor muttered, "experiences like this can mark the soul. Let him rest a few days."
Outside, Nicolas and Emily stepped into the cooling air.
"So," Nicolas said, voice low, "are we really leaving Harry here... and joining the Dark Council?"
Emily bit her nails. "What if it makes his trauma worse if we leave?"
"They asked for us. As chaperones."
"He doesn't have anyone, does he?" Her voice cracked.
"No. His family was assassinated."
She stopped walking. Turned to Nicolas. Grabbed his shoulders, trembling.
"I'm going to the Black Road," she said. "I'm not going to stand still and play knight. I want to get stronger. When I saw what Alex did... I knew."
Nicolas hesitated, torn. On one side, Harry—his closest friend. On the other, the Dark Council—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He clenched his fists.
He couldn't catch the Dark Council again if he missed this.
But Harry…