Uncle

|Arthur|

As I trained under Wren, the issue of advancement began to surface. My mana core progressed rapidly, propelling me to the white stage with relative ease.

However, a dilemma arose. I possessed an array of different weapons at my disposal: my mana core, Realmheart, Sylvia's third stage, and my swordsmanship. Individually, they were formidable, but they lacked the sheer power of the other Paladins' abilities.

Realmheart granted me the ability to manipulate aether, but it came with its own limitations and drawbacks compared to the versatility of Spirit Dive. Sylvia's third stage, while offering significant power, had a punishing recoil and fell short in aether utilization compared to Gary's aether core. Even my refined swordsmanship paled in comparison to the mastery exhibited by Gary.

In essence, I had reached a plateau that seemed insurmountable. Despite the trump card I held in reserve, it was not a path to further enhance my strength, but rather a last resort.

I needed a breakthrough, a new avenue to explore, in order to transcend my current limitations and rise to a level that could rival the other Paladins.

The logical next step for me was to strive for the elusive integration stage. However, Wren shattered my hopes by confirming that achieving it would be nearly impossible for me, or at the very least, a journey spanning many years.

The reason behind this discouraging revelation was disheartening yet grounded in the truth—I, or rather the body I inhabited, lacked the innate potential to reach the integration stage. Every individual in this world is born with a predetermined potential, dictating the stage they can aspire to reach.

Most individuals possess the potential to attain only the orange stage, which is considered average. In contrast, the Paladins effortlessly possess the potential to exceed the white stage and even surpass it.

As for myself, I am an artificial prodigy. My body does exhibit a degree of innate talent, superior to that of ordinary individuals. However, it falls short of the natural potential bestowed upon the Paladins.

The truth of my Paladin status lies not in the depths of my inherent potential, but rather in the culmination of my previous life's experiences. It is thanks to my previous existence that I acquired the means to artificially enhance my core stage, rapidly closing the gap and enabling me to compete alongside the Paladins.

However, as I delved deeper into the realm of integration stage, the limitations of my artificial means became starkly apparent. While they had served me well in the lower stages, they proved insufficient for the daunting task of reaching integration.

I possessed Sylvia's beast will, a formidable force that had tempered my body and elevated my potential. Yet, even this extraordinary boon had its limits, leaving me yearning for further growth.

In the present moment, I had achieved a level of strength that surpassed the most formidable adversaries Alacarya could send to Dicathen. However, when considering the possibility of facing the Asuras, my current prowess appeared pitifully inadequate.

The path to greater strength eluded me, its steps shrouded in uncertainty. Although mastering force-type mana held the promise of augmenting my power, it alone would not bridge the vast divide that separated me from Asuran level abilities.

Creating an aether core seemed like the definitive solution, a leap towards the next echelon of power. Yet, all my efforts in this regard proved futile, leaving me frustrated and disheartened.

Despite these challenges, I could ill afford to wallow in self-pity. There was a drastic step I could undertake to artificially raise my talent, but I hesitated to embark upon it just yet.

The drastic step I alluded to earlier remained on the periphery of my options, for it entailed absorbing Sylvia's will into my entire being, transforming me from a human into a draconian being. While the potential benefits were undeniable, there were significant risks involved, including the potential rupture of my mana core and the loss of Realmheart.

The stakes were too high at this juncture, and I hesitated to undertake such a perilous path. To compromise my very existence for a fleeting surge of power was a decision that demanded careful consideration.

Instead, I directed my focus towards more immediate and attainable avenues for furthering my strength. Mastery of force-type mana emerged as a paramount objective, as it held the potential to augment my capabilities and enhance my combat prowess. Through rigorous training and relentless dedication, I aimed to unlock the full potential of this mana discipline.

Simultaneously, I devoted my efforts to creating the weapon from the acclorite that Wren had stabbed into my arm.

|Alistair|

The encounter with Lord Indrath left an indelible mark on my psyche. The sheer intensity of his aura surpassed anything I had experienced before, emanating from the very depths of his being. It was as if he commanded a presence beyond mortal comprehension, an unmistakable indication of his elevated status.

After the meeting concluded, Windsom guided me to my designated training area within Lord Indrath's domain. We traversed through a portal, and as it spat us out on the other side, I found myself in a resplendent mansion that rivaled the grandeur of the Indrath castle itself. The opulent surroundings were adorned with intricate scarlet accents, weaving an aura of regality throughout the estate.

Stepping onto the ground, our presence was met by a man who bore a striking resemblance to my mother. His short, snow-white hair harmonized with his creamy complexion, and his sapphire eyes sparkled with wisdom and power. His presence exuded a formidable authority, reminiscent of Lord Indrath's aura, although distinctly his own.

"Greetings, Lord Claxter," Windsom respectfully uttered, bowing deeply before the man. "I did not anticipate your personal reception. Please accept my apologies for any delay in our arrival."

Lord Claxter's voice resonated with pure authority and command as he replied, "Rise, Windsom."

With those words, I could sense the weight of Lord Claxter's presence, a testament to his own standing and influence. It became clear that I was in the presence of a figure of great importance, one whose role would undoubtedly shape my future endeavors.

"Ah, so you are Saphira's son," he spoke, his gaze shifting towards me while a gentle smile graced his lips.

A profound sense of joy radiated from Lord Claxter as he carefully observed me, nodding in approval from time to time.

"Not bad," he remarked, his voice laced with a touch of pleasant surprise. "You have exceeded my expectations in terms of strength. I have ample time to mold you into a formidable leader worthy of the esteemed Claxter clan."

With those words, a sense of determination swelled within me, fueling my resolve to prove myself even further.

"Then, I shall entrust Alistair to your guidance, Lord Claxter," Windsom announced, bowing deeply once again before gracefully departing with Arthur.

"Come," Lord Claxter beckoned, his tone soft yet commanding. "There are many who eagerly anticipate meeting the son of my beloved sister."

It felt as though an invisible force tugged at my body, compelling me to follow him. It was as if unseen strings manipulated my every movement, drawing me inexorably into the majestic embrace of the Claxter clan mansion—a place where my mother had once called home.

Anticipation mingled with a sense of familiarity as we ventured deeper into the heart of the ancestral residence, poised to unveil the path that lay ahead in my journey as Saphira's son and the heir to the esteemed Claxter legacy.

As we navigated the hallways of the Claxter Castle, its smaller stature in comparison to the Indrath Castle did not diminish its grandeur. Lord Claxter guided me with an air of familiarity, leading us past captivating portraits that lined the walls—each capturing the essence of the clan's esteemed members throughout history. Alongside the artworks, the castle walls showcased an array of meticulously displayed artifacts, each telling a story of the clan's rich heritage.

My gaze was drawn to a particular painting, causing me to come to a halt in awe. I turned my head, my eyes fixated on the captivating image that had captured my mother's essence.

There she was, in all her resplendent glory, seated regally upon an ornate chair. A palpable aura of determination and seriousness emanated from her visage, yet her beauty seemed to transcend the confines of the painting itself. Her snow-white hair glistened like strands of silver, while her azure eyes sparkled with an authoritative gaze. She was adorned in a lavish gown adorned with precious jewels, each gem enhancing her radiance.

In that painting, she embodied a captivating presence, as if the entire world revolved around her. It was as if she possessed an innate command over the very fabric of existence, effortlessly captivating the attention of all who beheld her.

"She truly was an extraordinary being, was she not?" Lord Claxter's voice gently interrupted my contemplation, pulling me back to the present.

"My sister, Saphira... Words fail to capture the magnitude of her greatness, nephew. She was unrivaled in Epheotus, a beacon of allure and power. Suitors would flock from far and wide merely to catch a glimpse of her radiance. Her strength surpassed that of any Asura who had ever walked this realm, her beauty and charm unparalleled, and her intellect unmatched. She was truly blessed with every conceivable gift... only for it all to be cruelly stolen from her."

As his voice turned heavy and somber, a palpable weight descended upon the air, causing an icy chill to trace its way down my spine. Lord Claxter's demeanor shifted, releasing a subtle undercurrent of killing intent—a testament to the depths of his grief and the wrath he carried within him.

"Alistair," his voice resonated with conviction as his piercing sapphire eyes locked onto my scarlet gaze, "I implore you to take up the mantle of vengeance, to carry out what I, myself, lack the fortitude to accomplish. You are the beacon of hope that our revered Claxter Clan so desperately needs."

The weight of his words settled upon me, a responsibility of monumental proportions. In that moment, I felt the weight of generations past and the expectations of the future resting upon my shoulders. It was a solemn duty, an unwavering commitment to honor my mother's memory and restore justice to our bloodline. Lord Claxter's words stirred a fierce determination within me, igniting a fire that would burn until my mother's stolen glory was reclaimed.

"Now, come," he said, his countenance shifting once more, now adorned with a gentle smile, "It is time for you to meet your long-awaited family."

With those words, Lord Claxter led me further into the depths of the Claxter Castle, his footsteps resonating with a sense of purpose and anticipation. We traversed ornate corridors adorned with tapestries depicting the rich history of our bloodline, the echoes of our ancestors whispering through the grand halls.

As we reached a grand chamber, the heavy doors swung open, revealing a gathering of individuals eagerly awaiting our arrival. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation and familial love, a tapestry of emotions that I could hardly comprehend. The room was filled with Claxter relatives, their features bearing a striking resemblance to my mother. Each face held a mixture of curiosity, pride, and unspoken affection.

Lord Claxter's voice carried across the room, announcing my presence, "Behold, the son of Saphira, our esteemed Alistair has returned to us."

All eyes turned towards me, their gazes a blend of curiosity and recognition. However, I could see some disgust mixed in their eyes as well.

As I gaze into the future, I see the path I must tread, a journey fraught with challenges and sacrifices. The road to gaining recognition from my newfound family will not be an easy one, but I am determined to prove my worth.

With unwavering determination and relentless effort, I will strive to accomplish my tasks and fulfill my purpose. The fire within me burns bright, fueled by the desire to avenge my mother and protect my cherished family in Dicathen.