webnovel

Streamer in the Omniverse

Awesome, I'm gonna catch a nap after lunch, and bam! Kidnapped. Of course, the damn floating screen in front of me tells me it's a once-in-a-lifetime 'job' opportunity as a streamer for all realities, living epic adventures, and whatnot. Well... except for the part where I couldn't refuse and kinda ended up in a damn forest with just the clothes on my back, I have no freakin' clue where I am, besides the fact that I'm no longer on my damn beloved planet, and apparently, there'll be a frickin' endless number of people watching me do everything? "I think I'm gonna have a freakin' aneurysm..." [...] It's my first time writing here, I've been wanting to write for a while now, so well, here we go. English is my third language, so there might be some mistakes or incorrect forms of writing, I apologize for that, if you notice any, please let me know, and I'll try to fix them. [Cover created using artificial intelligence] If you want to support me, I have a (P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

Calleum_Artori · Cómic
Sin suficientes valoraciones
141 Chs

Interlude (11): Terraria News! (3)

I had some issues this week, that's why it took me a while. I kind of slept poorly in the last few days and all that. Well, here's today's chapter and, as always, there are 3/7 chapters in my (P)(A)(T), in case anyone wants to read or support me. If not, I still appreciate it!

Good night and happy reading!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori

[...]---[...]

POV: Helena Oakwood

The information coming from my son's mouth was astonishing: details about an ancient Fae journal lost to time, a monstrous stag that carried madness in its shadow and chilled the air simply by its presence, its voice creating hallucinations with a strange, unsettling energy. It was beyond impressive.

He didn't say much about Devas, only mentioned that it was he who killed the stag, which didn't go unnoticed by me—or anyone else—just enough to ease Alalia's concerns, with a brief "Devas had to handle something at his home. He said he'd be back in a month." That seemed enough for the Dryad, who didn't even ask where this 'home' of the group leader was.

Overall, the conversation went well, though it wasn't as calm as I had hoped, much less expected. I knew the reason—it was obvious: Dylan had reasons to feel hurt and angry, and I could understand, though it didn't make me proud.

I had been keeping secrets from him for a long time, just as Melissa and Charlotte had. Finding out about Alalia—learning that someone else had lived in our home all along—was likely the final nail in that coffin. My son's face was expressionless, carved in stone, his gaze as neutral as a golem's.

I admit the sight hurt me more than I had expected, especially the tone of his voice: it lacked the warmth it usually held, its pitch barely changing. It was as if my son had disappeared, and something had taken over his flesh and skin, using him as a hollow shell perfectly versed in etiquette and nobility.

"Your Royal Highness. Duchess of Symbols." He glanced between the two of us for a moment before shifting his gaze to Alalia, though he said nothing to her. "I request permission to retire to my quarters. The return journey is beginning to take its toll, and I fear I won't endure much longer."

His voice was exceedingly polished and courteous, as were his movements. Had I not spent years in high society or known him as my son, I would hardly have noticed the faint fragments of emotion in his expression.

'Your Royal Highness. Duchess of Symbols.'

He hadn't said 'Charlotte,' nor 'mother.' I noticed it instantly, and I don't doubt Charlotte herself picked up on it as well. Before either she or Alalia could speak, I raised my hand and gave a slight, tense smile to Dylan as I said:

"Of course, my son. I…" I hesitated briefly, unsure of what to say. "I didn't want this to turn into a report delivery; I apologize for how things unfolded..."

"Don't apologize; you did nothing wrong." His response was fluid, as if he had recited it many times before. "Some things that are more important than others. I've known that for a long time… We can talk another time."

I couldn't stop him from leaving the room after he called a few servants to help carry his teammates, as well as Melissa and Darnell. Perhaps I didn't want to stop him—I wasn't sure anymore; my thoughts were turbulent, like the storm surrounding the distant kingdom.

The conversation resumed only after the door closed. Only Charlotte, Alalia, and I remained at the table, with the latter dismissing her wooden doll and appearing beside me in her real form.

"Things could have gone better…" I heard the princess murmur, followed by a long sigh. "The situation isn't improving, is it?..."

"I can't disagree… really, I can't." I stared at the tea in my cup as I replied. My head was already aching, and this only made it worse… After a few moments watching the gentle steam rising from the liquid, I spoke again: "Alalia, you said you hadn't sensed anything too dangerous in WinterHord, that it was 'just a great mana storm'..."

I let my voice trail off; there was no need to explain what I meant.

"If you're asking if I lied to keep you from worrying, the answer is no." The Dryad's tone was calm, seemingly the least affected by Dylan's revelations and the residual tension at the table. "Nor did I withhold any information..."

She paused, closing her eyes for about three seconds and remaining still, like a tree trunk, before sighing in frustration. When she opened her eyes again, they held a serious look, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"... Quite the opposite, actually. That information was hidden from me. The stag, this Deerclops, somehow managed to conceal itself from my senses."

The information was so absurd that it took me a few seconds to fully comprehend her words.

"I suppose the stress of recent weeks has affected me more than I thought; I'm beginning to have auditory hallucinations," Charlotte said before I could respond. I couldn't help but agree with her words.

"Alalia… how?" It was the best question I could muster.

"... I don't know. That wasn't supposed to happen. Even sealed as I am, with only a part of my power, sensing this stag should have been simple, no matter the distance." She frowned, twirling a strand of her green hair around her finger.

"I understand missing something; I'm not focused all the time, but this?… I was 'looking' directly at WinterHord, yet even then, I 'saw' nothing. There was only ice, cold, and mana; no stag, no shadows, and certainly no… hallucinations…"

Alalia paused, her eyes widening, her lips parting slightly. Her voice emerged in a hushed whisper, incredulous: "Is this… is this even possible?..."

Without waiting for us to ask, she began explaining, though to me, it felt like she was more talking to herself than truly sharing her discovery with Charlotte and me. Her voice was quick, almost rushed.

"He erased himself from everyone's sight. Something subtle, yet not subtle. A colossal storm that encompassed an entire mountain range, visible from miles away, yet with no apparent cause. An unusual weather event, with no start. A cause without effect. Something that began to exist without a beginning."

With each word from her lips, her hair slowly grew longer, taking on a grayish-green tone, with streaks that were completely white. Not only that, but her body began to grow; her legs lengthened, as did her arms and torso, her chest visibly shrinking. Even her skin tone lightened—not naturally, but as white as snow.

The changes were proportional in every way, even her fingers grew slimmer and more refined, her nails becoming pointed. Her expression lost its innocence, warmth, and humor; her irises took on an icy-blue color, serious and nearly apathetic, though surprised by the words spilling from her mouth. Even her 'clothes' changed color, leaves and flowers losing their pigmentation.

If she had been the same height as Charlotte before, now she was the tallest in the room, easily surpassing six feet. She was—had become—much more elegant.

… Even after all these years, I still found myself awestruck whenever I saw this transformation. Alalia generally preferred her 'spring form,' as she called it, but this wasn't the first time I saw her assume 'winter' as her shell.

"He blended into the ice and snow. Everyone outside the storm, every external observer—no matter who or what they were—couldn't detect him. He hid from everyone the instant he awoke… Instinctively, he sought to hide; even in madness, the ice obeyed him… The storm formed at his will…"

Her words were as cold as her appearance, clinical—sharp as the wind of a cold morning. The plants in the room slowly wilted, not dying but shedding their leaves as they would with the changing seasons, while the air grew colder. I was certain that if Alalia didn't restrain herself, her mere presence in this form could bring winter early to Terraria.

It was easy to forget, given how she usually acted, but moments like this reminded me of what the being before me truly was…

Her words continued.

"Like a forgotten memory: it exists, it's there—perhaps, perhaps it never really existed—but the moment someone tries to focus, to remember, there's nothing… An illusion for all beyond the storm, outside that small 'world.' Like a shadow at the corner of vision, a strand of hair in front of the eyes… Now I understand…"

Her expression softened, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of her thin lips. Alalia seemed impressed…

"... The Deerclops managed to make the world hallucinate."

Silence reigned for a full minute. Alalia seemed content to simply remain there, unmoving, without saying another word. I could see Charlotte still absorbing the information the Dryad had shared, so I took the reins.

"Putting aside how absurd that information is…" I didn't even know where to begin to understand how something could make the planet, and even Alalia, hallucinate. "Hiding, instinctively seeking shelter, isn't typical predator behavior… What was the deer hiding from, you?"

Her ice-blue eyes turned toward me. "Deerclops — the chilly one-eyed monstrosity from a foreign land. That was the title Dylan said, what Devas called the deer, wasn't it?" I only nodded slowly, not interrupting her.

"How curious… It's as much like me as it is like 'him.' I wasn't the only one… But that was expected, in a way." Her gaze drifted for a second, seeming to look through me. After this brief reverie, she said, "To answer your question, Helena: there are a few possibilities for what the deer was hiding from, but I don't think it was from me."

"What, then?" Charlotte spoke up for the first time in a while. "The hero of the prophecy? Or the 'thing' he fights against?"

As the word 'thing' left the princess's lips, Alalia's expression grew even more neutral. If she had previously held an air of elegant nobility, she now resembled an ice statue.

I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't read any emotion on her face. She never revealed much about this 'thing'; she would just say it existed and that "too much knowledge was the worst of all sentences."

"The hero? No, but that 'thing'?… Perhaps. The timeframe lines up. Fifteen thousand years…" The Dryad withdrew her hand from her grayish-white hair and placed it on the table, atop her other hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her cross her legs. "Hallucination and madness walk hand in hand — the Deerclops must have been just one of many — it's very likely that the deer was hiding from that 'thing.'"

"Fifteen thousand years? Dylan didn't mention any dates." Where did she get that number from?...

"He didn't mention it, but in one of Cael's diary entries he briefly narrated, it's said that the Fae fell into a rift in space, correct?" She recalled briefly. "I remember those rifts… I was there. It was hard to calculate the exact time at first, but that happened fifteen thousand years ago."

"… You didn't say you were five hund— Oh." I sighed. So that's what she meant by 'I wasn't the only one…' I asked, "Did you also fall into one of those rifts, or were you sealed?"

"Perceptive as always, Helena." She praised as if I were a child, and I held back from scoffing. "It was the former. I wasn't sealed, but I fell into one of those rifts when I was young. It's curious to learn, after so much time, that I wasn't the only one from my time to come to the future."

"How young?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Not so young by Terrarian standards — twenty-three. But by my species' standards, I was still a sapling." Whether intentionally or not, I could distinguish the nostalgia in her voice. "I awoke around five hundred years ago, after falling into one of those rifts, but I was born over fifteen thousand years ago… I can remember that day as if it were yesterday…"

Her voice trailed off at the end. This time, she didn't hide the sadness in her gaze. The atmosphere felt sadder with her words.

Charlotte took control of the conversation and said, with the usual tone she used whenever exchanging jabs with Alalia, "So you're supposed to be even older? Surprising, considering you act like a brat."

If she was trying to erase the sadness from Alalia's face, she succeeded. The Dryad blinked, absorbing the words, before turning to the princess with a slight smile at the corner of her lips. Her gaze softened slightly, and part of her bangs turned green.

Alalia brought a hand to her green hair, gently caressing it until something sprouted amidst her locks: peas. She plucked one of the peas between her thumb and index finger, positioning it as if she were about to throw it. Charlotte clasped her hands over her mouth even before Alalia could pluck the pea.

"… If you throw that thing into my mouth again, I swear I'll kill you!" The princess's irritated and disgusted voice came out muffled by her hand. I chuckled, amused.

"You say I'm the brat, but you're the one fussing over food." Alalia narrowed her eyes slightly, not hiding the amusement in her voice. "Come on, open wide. Don't be a child; you need your vegetables to grow."

"I'm twenty; I won't grow any taller than this, and I'm satisfied with my body." She retorted instantly, her hands still covering her mouth.

"Twenty and still making a fuss over food… How childish." Alalia remarked, her light smile widening as she placed the pea in her own mouth and chewed. My face scrunched up at the sight.

I still found it completely bizarre when she did that. She could say as many times as she wanted that it was no big deal; to me, it still looked like borderline self-cannibalism. It was even stranger when she grew apples or other large fruits only to eat them immediately afterward. Ugh…

"Who's 'him'?" I asked, pushing those memories aside. "You said the deer was as much like you as like 'him.' Who is this 'him'?"

The most obvious answer would be the owner of that journal, but something told me that wasn't the case. Alalia confirmed my suspicion.

"The 'him' I'm referring to is Devas."

"… Is he someone from the past? Is that it?" A Fae?… That would explain a few things.

She hesitated before responding, "Not exactly… It's not my secret to tell, so I'll just say that." Her tone made it clear she wouldn't say any more.

"Has anyone ever told you you sound like a wife defending her husband whenever Devas is mentioned?" Charlotte pointed out. A slight blush appeared on the Dryad's cheeks.

The scream the princess let out when Alalia threw a pea into her mouth would have echoed across half the kingdom, if not for the Mystic Symbols on the walls.

I sighed, half amused and half exhausted, as Charlotte, her face green and likely on the verge of vomiting, jumped at Alalia's neck, attempting to strangle her with her own hands.

The scene reminded me of the past, when Dylan and Melissa would bicker; well, it was usually Melissa and Selina, but still, it was nostalgic… Except that the "children" this time were one aged twenty and the other over five hundred.

… I really needed to talk to my children… Especially Dylan. I looked at the window; the sky was beginning to tint orange. From the exhaustion on his face, Dylan would likely only wake up tomorrow morning… I'll speak to him then.

"It was just a pea!"

"I'm going to kill you!"

… But first, I needed to separate these two kids before they broke something.

[…]

POV: Dylan Oakwood

"You've got every damn right to be pissed, hell, I would be too, but that scowl of yours is starting to get on my nerves." Selina tossed a pillow in my direction. I sighed, catching it effortlessly, then tossed it back onto the couch.

It had been just over a week since we'd returned to the kingdom, and things were pretty much the same as when we got here. The storm didn't show any sign of stopping or even slowing down. Charlotte and my mother issued a public statement, saying it was something unusual but not dangerous… At least they didn't try to convince me of that lie.

Not that I didn't already know the danger this storm posed, but it was good to see that, in some way, I was finally starting to be let in on the family 'secrets.' I was still annoyed—no, more than that—but not as much as before, and definitely not "pissed" like Selina said, let alone "scowling."

I held onto my right to feel annoyed at discovering yet another person lived in the same house as me, without my knowledge. Not just that—apparently, I was the only one who didn't know. Melissa was aware too… At least Selina was as in the dark as I was, not that it made things much better…

"Aren't you supposed to be convincing your family not to commit suicide?" I ignored her comment, not turning around as I asked, and kept working on the design for my new bow, lying on the table in front of me.

I needed a better bow, something with more power. My old bow was still useful, but I'd grown stronger physically; my mana capacity hadn't increased, but after copying Devas's mana flow, I had a wider range of tricks at my disposal.

… My old bow was still good, but not good enough.

"Ugh… Don't even get me started." The exhaustion in her voice was obvious. "I should've left the Humvee here instead of taking it back home when we returned. Those old fools and their impatience… isn't it supposed to be the other way around?! Why can't they wait for the grand leader to return instead of driving me up the wall?!"

"You can't blame them, can you? At least not entirely." I remarked, watching her irritated face in the mirror across from me, which amused me a little.

"…Not entirely, I guess. The Humvee really is a beauty…"

"Drool on my couch, and you're buying me a new one."

"You mean cleaning it?" She asked.

"No, buying a new one." I corrected her. "Not risking catching whatever you've got—" I ducked just as a shoe flew in my direction. "Rude."

"You're the rude one!" Selina huffed, but she didn't seem genuinely annoyed by my comment. "You used to be milder. Becoming a contractor suits you."

"You're not the first to say that…" I smirked a little to myself. "And I hope you're not the last."

The next few minutes were quieter. Selina seemed content reviewing her notes on the Humvee while I continued working on the Mystic Symbols I planned to use for the new bow. I already had an idea of what ink to use, though it wasn't fully prepared yet; now, I just needed to finalize the design of the matrices.

I wouldn't be the one making the bow. My skill and experience with forging were reasonable, but far from expert. Selina and Darnell would be helping me with that part.

We weren't disturbed by anyone. Gilbert and Robyn were out at the moment, as were Darnell and Melissa, and I'd made it clear to the staff that I was busy with something important and should only be interrupted if it was truly urgent or by direct order from my mother.

The father-daughter duo had moved into Oakwood Manor the day after we returned, without any hassle. My mother seemed pleased and didn't hesitate to agree to my request. Clearly, it was her way of compensating me or, at least, beginning to.

She came to talk to me the morning after our arrival. It wasn't a long conversation, but it helped clarify a few things. Not that it changed my opinions much; I was tired of being treated like a child, something I made clear to her, and she seemed to understand that… or at least, I hoped she did.

At the end of the conversation, she mentioned that I could tell Selina, Gilbert, and Robyn about Alalia if I wanted, as the Dryad herself had given permission. I told them as soon as they woke up. Their reactions varied, but Gilbert took it the best. Selina and Robyn were more annoyed—mostly at being enchanted rather than anything else.

The old merchant was currently sorting out some things with his contacts and informants, or so he'd told me. I didn't ask for details, but he was happy to share that it was about, and I quote, "my idiot son who should be home instead of off traveling to play golf!"

I hadn't even known Robyn had a brother. Neither she nor Gilbert had ever mentioned him before.

The zoologist was busy at her animal shop. Robyn had closed it for the entire time we were on the mission, hiring someone to take care of the animals while we were away. Now that we were back, she resumed caring for them and running the shop.

As for Melissa and Darnell, as much as they'd wanted to take the vacation they'd mentioned earlier, the kingdom's situation didn't allow for it, both literally and figuratively. The storm practically shut down outside trade, causing a massive influx of people into the kingdom. Everyone was coming in; no one was leaving.

Darnell had gone to help with city patrols to maintain order. He'd done this before as a kind of second job, in addition to being a contractor. He'd stopped a while back, but still had friends in the field and decided to help out when one of them called on him.

My sister was helping out at our family's hospital. The rain might not be falling directly on the kingdom, but it was affecting those coming in from outside. The number of sick people increased: flu, viruses, and other diseases caused by low immunity.

My mother also said that she and Charlotte suspected the rain might cause something worse, like a magical illness or infection, so they were monitoring as many of the sick as possible, in case anything happened. Alalia was more than enough for that, in my mother's words, but just to be safe, Melissa was asked to help.

I made sure to tell them about what Simon had told Gilbert, regarding the empty farm, without cattle or farmers, and the bloodied footprints leading into the silent forest. Mentioning the bloody tracks and the eyeless corpse was enough to double the hospital's and guard's efforts, especially at the gates, particularly the main one…

After nearly an hour of silence, Selina broke the ice.

"You know, I wasn't going to say anything… But the Humvee has the same symbols as that Fae journal." She tossed the notes journal beside me on the table and pulled up a chair. "Gilbert and Robyn probably didn't notice it when I was studying the car's Mystic Symbols, but you definitely did…"

I gave one last look at the design for my new bow before setting the paper aside and turning to my 'cousin.'

"Of course, I noticed." I didn't deny it.

"But you didn't say anything… Didn't even look like you were going to." She pointed out.

"You didn't say anything until now either." I shot back.

She licked her lips and glanced at herself in the mirror before answering, "True… I didn't know how to bring it up. Devas, he…" She trailed off, but it was obvious.

"Is probably a Fae?" Selina nodded. I sighed, tapping my fingers on the table one by one. "I thought about that too. It would explain a lot, actually…"

Devas said he came from a village south of the kingdom, but he never mentioned which village, let alone where exactly 'south' was. He didn't talk about his family either, or any friends. He had no basic knowledge of several things that should have been common knowledge, but he was far from ignorant. He always seemed… out of place, as if everything around him were strange and new… foreign.

The way he used his travel magic was completely different from how everyone else did. The Humvee was different from other cars, his clothes were different, even the way his mana flowed within his body was unique, like it was mana, but not quite the same mana as everyone else's.

Devas knew legends that no one else had heard of, like the Deerclops; he had even tapped into the same energy as the deer, which was, by all accounts, from the time of the Fae… There were too many coincidences, too many subtle hints scattered here and there, too many nuances…

"… You seem fine with it." Selina pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I looked up at her. "I see no reason not to be fine with it."

"You're kind of in a cold war with your mom and sister after they kept secrets from you… Devas did the same thing, you know?"

I couldn't help the brief chuckle that escaped my lips, or the laughter that followed. I only stopped when Selina pinched my side, just below my ribs.

Pushing her hand away, I massaged the spot as I explained, "Everyone has secrets, Selina; I have them, you have them. I'm not mad, much less angry, at Devas for having his. The reason I'm upset with my mother and Melissa goes deeper than that."

Keeping secrets from me was the least of it; it was the lack of trust and the fact they treated me like a child that really hurt…

Selina looked me up and down for a moment, then clapped her hands and smiled to herself, "You've really changed… I'm glad about that."

"And you're the same as ever." I replied with a smile. "I'm glad about that, too."

"What can I say? You can't improve on perfection." She shrugged with a smug smile, then glanced out the window. "… How many days are left?"

She didn't specify, but I knew what she was asking about.

"Four days." I answered, pulling on my mana to activate my innate magic. The information flooded my brain quickly. "Four days, six hours, and sixteen minutes until the month Devas said it would take for him to return is up."

I knew the exact time. The room where Devas disappeared had a wall clock. With my innate magic, it was easy to recall down to the second.

"Four days, right…" Selina hummed before locking her gaze with mine. She stared at me for about five full seconds, squinting more with each second, then smacked her fist into her other hand and said, "Weird… I can't see mana, but I can see your eyes glowing blue… Your innate magic got stronger or something? It's taking shape."

I blinked and turned to look at myself in the mirror. My eyes had the same bluish glow around the irises as always when I used my innate magic. It didn't seem different to me… Strange...

"I don't feel different." I shrugged. "But I can't deny that I've pushed my magic and mana to their limits lately; maybe something's changed…" I needed to check on that later. It wasn't all that unusual for innate magic to evolve, even if just slightly.

"You've passed out from mana overload twice in the past few months, too." She pointed out. "Once in Jille and another in WinterHord. It's a surprise you're not bedridden. Melissa was out for almost three months when she overdid it; you were back on your feet in three days."

"I don't have much mana; it's easier to fill an empty glass than a tank." I shot back with a lightly self-deprecating tone. If Melissa had mana akin to a small lake, I had the equivalent of a household bathtub. "Anyway, help me out here. I want your opinion on which material would be best for crafting this new bow."

"Are you sure you don't want an exoskeleton or something more… useful than just a simple bow?" She stood up, walked over behind me, and rested her chin on my head, studying the papers on the table slowly.

"Don't start. A good enchanted bow is always useful." I sighed before adding, "I enjoy using a bow and want to keep it that way… But an armor would be nice. Not an exoskeleton, but something similar, that could strengthen me…"

"A full armor like Devas'? You're going to need Mana Stones or Artificial Sapphires for storage to make it sustainable." I could feel her chin moving on top of my head with each word. "Seriously, I don't know how that guy has so much mana. Looking at him with my enchanted glasses is like staring at the sun with all the mana he has."

"I'm fully aware of that. You can't feel mana, but I can." I reminded her. "With each breath Devas takes, it's as if the ambient mana heats up before being drawn into his body. The clearing where he stays is still full of his mana."

"… Wait, seriously? When did you go there?" She lifted her head from the papers and looked at me through the mirror.

"Two days ago. I went to measure the exact size of the entire area." I explained. "It's close enough to the kingdom to still be protected by the shield matrix. The storm hasn't reached there."

After meeting Alalia, it became logical to understand how the matrix worked. My mother had briefly explained the model to me when I asked; it wasn't sustainable… But apparently, that didn't mean much to the Dryad.

That being, she… I couldn't feel her mana, couldn't see her, or anything of the sort, but from the way my mother spoke about her, it wasn't hard to understand that she was strong, very strong. I might not be Alalia's biggest fan, but I was grateful for her protecting the kingdom the way she did.

Selina's voice pulled me out of my thoughts: "Oh, right, you said you wanted to buy that land for him."

"Yes. It wasn't too expensive; with everything that's happened recently, prices outside the kingdom have started dropping." I commented casually. "Plus, Charlotte owed me a favor. Having contacts is useful." Getting a discount from the crown, which practically regulated everything, made things a lot easier.

"Using your connections? Aren't you supposed to be the rule-follower?" She looked away from the blueprints and started fiddling with my hair, inspecting it.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" If she says she's looking for lice…

"I've already finished looking at the design." She said, still messing with my hair, parting it to examine the roots. "The best metal for this model is tungsten and an iron alloy, coated with gold and silver, but you already know that… What are the chances your family has cobalt?"

"… Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"No, not at all." I disagreed. "Cobalt is so rare that it's easier to find an alien than a gram of it. The only piece of cobalt I've ever seen is the royal family's relic. How in the world do you expect my family to have cobalt?!"

"The Dryad?… Isn't she connected to nature or something?"

"… Excellent point." I grumbled, swallowing my words. "I'll ask my mother later if we have any cobalt."

I never thought I'd say that in my life. Cobalt, besides being the best mana-conducting metal, was the most durable metal ever found. Aside from Charlotte's family's royal scepter, which was coated in cobalt, I don't think there's more than a hundred, maybe two hundred grams of it in the entire kingdom.

Selina kept looking at my hair for a few more seconds before pulling her hands away.

"All the roots of your hair are white." Her voice had a tone of confusion and concern. "Either you're over fifty and didn't tell me, or something very strange is happening."

It took me a moment to respond, processing the information.

"… If I blame it on stress, would you believe me?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Don't answer that." She sighed. "I'm serious, Dylan; this isn't normal."

I sighed in turn. "I'm serious, too. It really is because of stress… But magical stress. Overuse of mana overheated and stressed my body. My hair turning white is just one of the results of that."

I'd already noticed some white strands; it wasn't just at the roots—some strands were completely white. I hadn't dyed it because it was subtle, and I wasn't trying to hide it. It wasn't dangerous. At most, my whole hair would turn white, and that'd be it.

"That… I don't think I've heard of anything like that before, at least not to this extent." She frowned. Her look was still worried but slightly less so. "How hard did you push yourself when you shot that arrow?…"

I looked at her for a moment as my memories drifted back to WinterHord, and my innate magic made my eyes glow blue in the mirror in front of me. White hair and blue eyes… not a bad look, if it ever came to that in the future…

"… Just as much as it took to help a friend."

[...]---[...]

There are countless instances of foreshadowing in this chapter. Please comment, if possible, on what you think they are. I really enjoy writing from Dylan's point of view; seriously, he's intelligent but doesn't have all the necessary information to figure everything out. He also doesn't have the 'emotional control' that Devas possesses—or rather, the 'apathy' that Devas has regarding various things.

Good night, everyone, and happy reading!

PS: I had to improvise a lot in this chapter, particularly in Helena's section, because the notes I had on her and her thoughts went TO HELL! Remember when I said I lost some notes, but nothing important? Those were the ones. It wasn't really crucial, but it was annoying to recall some things.

I didn't change the POV because it needed to be hers. If it were from Charlotte or Alalia's perspective, it would reveal some spoiler information.

PPS: *Salem starts to transform* Devas: "But you're NOT transforming into your second form, NOT A FUCKING CHANCE!" *Rips her heart out.*