“That... You Must Be Joking, Right?”
On the way back to the lodging, Heila cautiously asked Adel.
“What? Challenging the Tomb Tournament? Nah, I'm dead serious. I've got the qualifications.”
“No, not that...”
She started to say something but hesitated. Adel instantly read the conflict in her wavering expression.
“Do you really want me?”
“Watch how you phrase that. People might get the wrong idea.”
“Ah, yes? Oh...! S-sorry.”
Heila bowed her head with an awkward smile.
“I like capable people. And I believe those with ability should serve under someone even more capable.”
“Are you saying you're superior to Yoran... no, Syrin?”
She no longer hid it. Concealing who pulled her strings would have been foolish anyway. Once this conversation ended, she'd report it upward, just as Adel suggested. If her cover was blown, she might have to leave his service. This could be their last talk.
That thought sparked unexpected courage in Heila, and she pressed on.
“Yeah, I am.”
His unhesitating response drew a bitter smile from her—she'd expected as much.
“But not yet. My brother has already built a lot. I admit his hunting party is excellent, beyond just the prestige he was born into.”
Hien's seven children each led their own hunting parties alongside the captains. Among them, Syrin's Beast Squad had a proven track record of achievements.
“As you say, he's called a candidate for next chief. He already has many supporters in the tribe. Beating him won't be easy.”
“But not everyone's on his side. There's always a crack, and a small crack can split a boulder.”
“...Is it possible?”
“If it wasn't, I wouldn't have started.”
Heila stared at Adel's back. Though not much older than her, he'd hunted countless times and seen many hunters. The tribe had plenty of overconfident ones, but most were arrogant. Arrogance could pass for courage, not always a bad thing. But Adel was different—the first of his kind.
It's strange. His tone brims with confidence, but it's not arrogance.
He spoke as if stating plain fact. Before she knew it, Heila found herself accepting his words as obvious truth.
“I'm not from the tribe. Nor was I taken in like you and Harun.”
That was when it happened. Heila, following behind Adel, slowly spoke up.
“I was sold. First to the slave city of Cratel. My parents traded me for two sacks of barley to a slave trader.”
She couldn't fathom why she was sharing this now.
“I get it. There was a bad drought when I was born, they say.”
She continued.
“I stayed in Cratel a long time. There's a place called the arena where slaves fight. I picked up a sword to survive.”
Thud—thud—thud—Adel's footsteps mingled with her words like a rhythm.
“That's when I met Syrin. He saved me from that slave city. I can't betray him.”
“No need to change. Just report everything I do exactly as is. Every detail.”
“...Pardon?”
“No need for brothers to cross blades. Hopefully, thanks to you, he'll realize clashing with me is a losing game.”
Heila couldn't help but laugh at Adel's words. Confidence to the end.
“Heila. Tell him this: I'm not changing attendants.”
Thump—her heart stirred oddly.
“Ah...”
It was a presence neither the strong yet complacent Merka nor the strong but jealous Syrin possessed.
True qualities of a king.
It was baffling. How had she grown so drawn to him in just a day?
“Heila. I want you by my side, watching me.”
Twitch. Her shoulders trembled. Mere words from a young boy, yet her heart raced—not romantic, but the bond of lord and vassal.
“And report everything you see, exactly as it is. To those sold into this desert like you.”
Adel said.
“They were fine hunters, but never had a chance to choose a master. But if given that chance...”
He looked at her.
“They'll choose me.”
* * *
The forces shaping the world divide into three: aura, mana, and divine power.
Aura is innate human strength, mana borrowed from nature, divine power from gods.
Forces not innate clash, so mana and divine power are inversely related.
That's why high mana means low divine power. Thus, contracting with me, the supreme and great ancient god Kalderet...
‘Yawn... too wordy.’
Crunch... You asked, brat. Anyway, the point is you can't have both divine power and mana.
Back at the lodging, Adel lay on the bed with eyes closed, conversing telepathically with Kalderet. To Heila, he looked asleep.
Anyway, it's equivalent exchange. Gain divine power, lose mana. A primal law for world balance.
Kalderet's words rang true. The Ivory Tower's master, Julian Pader—a 8-class grand mage—contracted only a low god of wind. Proof that high mana limited greater divine power. Spirit Formation's leader, Hanna Kran, a 7-star formation master, contracted only the low earth god Naren.
The human body has a vessel for borrowed power. Once filled, no more. Yours is full from contracting me—no room for mana.
Adel couldn't wield mana. In his past life, he never had. Without it, he'd reached humanity's peak anyway.
So learn to wield divine power first. Elemental gods like fire, wind, earth are visible, clear. Mine is void.
Hummm... Space warped faintly.
Void is invisible. Abstract power is hard, but potent.
Thud—thud—thud—Kalderet rose slowly, approaching Adel.
Start by sensing void slowly. Hard to grasp in words, but void is...
Then Adel placed his palm on Kalderet's forehead. Kalderet's eyes widened.
What the—?!
‘Shh. Heila might hear.’
Hear what?! Quit joking—what's this? Condensing void and moving it?
Void energy flowed from Adel's hand. Kalderet marveled at it spreading through him.
‘Not hard. Forgot? In my past life, I was your contractor.’
Even so... a 13-year-old body? An immature vessel handling void this easily...
‘You wouldn't know, but in the past life, we did a lot. Wielding divine power's like breathing to me.’
Insane... Guess I contracted a monster. Heh heh, you're exciting me.
Adel smirked.
‘Don't get thrilled yet. You've got plenty to do. This is just the start.’
Hm? If you know condensation and movement, you know release. You know all divine handling—what's left for me?
‘Of course.’
Adel's eyes gleamed.
‘Mana and divine power are equivalent exchange—gain one, lose the other.’
And?
‘What if we ignore that exchange?’
Nonsense. Primal law. Even if possible, the vessel would burst.
Kalderet shook his head.
Human bloodlines carry one power only. Mana and divine together? Impossible.
‘What if we could?’
...What?
Kalderet's face hardened.
‘Simple principle. Make a second bloodline. Let both powers flow. Won't create mana, but allows both.’
More bloodlines? Like two hearts. Absurd.
Kalderet waved a paw dismissively.
‘But it works.’
What...?
‘The Tomb Tournament.’
Adel murmured lowly. Before winter, nest trainees held a tournament to test progress: the Tomb Tournament.
Rules were simple. Ulan shamans spawned new monsters via spells in a cleared desert dungeon, and teams conquered it. The chosen dungeon changed, location unknown till then.
‘But key is this year's at Anok's Hills.’
The hills weren't tough. Orcs inside were easier than desert beasts. B-rank dungeon—hard for newbies, clearable for trained adventurers.
‘No one knew its secret. Revealed 15 years later, by sheer luck.’
A future event. But Adel would claim it first.
‘The hidden Black Route in the hills.’
Anticipation built. It hid a secret to shatter all conventions.