Running fast was a confident trait of children. As you grow, you learn that at some point in time, speed is a necessity, whether it be to escape bullies, to catch the person you wished to bully, or just to win a race. Growing up, speed—at some point—is an attribute of the healthy young.

Aiden spun around a child like a basketballer trying to make his way to the hoop. One of his feet snagged against something, threatening to throw him off balance. But he was not some simple human without any real balance. His body righted itself even before he could think of it, and his feet continued their path forward. Into the busy market.

Behind him, in flowing robes and carrying a tall staff, Estabel gave chase a little too gracefully. Aiden saw it late, but three men gave chase behind her.

All four of them moved less like people with the [Mage] class and more like those with some agility-based class.

The market was alive with the hum of voices, the clatter of goods and the scent of spices curling through the air. Sunlight poured over the vast space, illuminating a maze of stalls, carts, and wandering shoppers. It was almost the perfect place to disappear.

But Aiden knew better. You did not simply evade a [Mage] or a pursuer with a class in such a simple chaos. It was the reason people did their best not to get on the bad side of a [Mage]. Being the most versatile class due to their endless access to spells, you never knew what one of them was capable of. For all Aiden knew, Estabel had a teleportation spell or two stored in the orb of her staff.

And he wouldn't even know the range of it.

He darted between merchants, his breath calm as it left his lungs. His feet barely touched the dusty packed sand beneath him as he wove through the crowd of buyers and sellers. Behind him, Estabel pursued with steady, unyielding determination. Her staff was held out to the side so that it did not hit the ground as she ran. Her strides were annoyingly rhythmic, her eyes sharp and focused. Aiden glanced back as he slid under a table with a vat of something that smelled like barnacles atop it.

In that brief glance, he caught a look of confusion on Estabel's face. It was as if she wondered, even as she chased him, why he was running away from her.

When Estabel reached the same table, she scaled over it easily, lifting as if by the grace of some kind of a spell. The jump was far too clean for it to be anything else.

Levitation spell, Aiden concluded.

It was a guess, a possibility. But with a [Mage], you never knew, and he was determined to simply accept that it was the case.

A shout erupted as Aiden knocked over a basket of apples, sending red and green spilling all over the floor, rolling about.

"I am so very sorry," Aiden apologized as he staggered away from the lady who had been carrying the apples. Then he pointed at Estabel, who was shockingly gaining on him. "She'll handle the bill."

The action had been intentional, from knocking the basket over to placing the responsibility on Estabel. Naturally, the only problem the lady with the apples would encounter would be the stress of rewashing them, but Estabel was just in case some apples went missing, were squashed underfoot, or got stolen.

It was also to ensure that the lady would go the extra mile to slow Estabel down.

Estabel frowned as she got to the mess of apples and people gathering to help the woman pick them up. She frowned, gesturing to the men with her. She pointed from one to the woman and her apples. To the other she pointed off into the market.

Aiden frowned as he realized that she had just sent one of them to cut him off somehow. As for her reaction to the mess of apples, she leaped casually over it. It was a graceful jump that covered a long distance. Her robe billowed in the air as she went through it, landing with equal grace on the other side.

The man she had gestured to the woman, came to a squatted stop next to the lady and assisted with her apples.

Levitation spell, Aiden thought. This time, he was certain of it.

Through it all, Aiden never stopped running.

His feet carried him further, deeper into the market. He might not lose Estabel within the chaos of the market, but if he could get just a moment out of her sight, he could duck out and make his escape.

He weaved through the chaos as he ran, then brought his hands together. Fingers interweaved so naturally that it was almost seamless, weaving a quick enchantment onto himself.

[You have used Class skill Enchanted Weave]

…

[You have used Weave of Lesser Speed]

Aiden felt the weight of mana in his chest as the effect of the weaving spread through him. In its wake, it left the same heavy pressure that had been in Aiden's chest since he'd gained the title of [Giant Slayer] when he killed the group of poachers in the Naranoff territory. Even now, he still had no idea what exactly it was.

The title of [Giant Slayer] that he was aware of did not come with some heavy weight on a person's chest. The weight was entirely new and foreign. With more pressing matters than that on his tail, Aiden ignored the sensation and pushed forward.

His feet moved so fast that he felt like the wind. He scaled another table, almost slammed into a stall he knew would not have a back exit, rolling off its walls gracefully, and dipped past a jewelry stand with what he suspected were enchanted jewelries designed to glitter even in the absence of sunlight.

"Stop RUNNING!"

The command rang in Aiden's ears and he winced as he slipped through a narrow gap between two spice sellers whose saffron-dusted hands reached out to stop him in protest as he snatched up two spices. Even without the weaving of lesser speed coursing through him, he would've still been too fast for them to stop.

Both spices were in glass containers and Aiden slammed them against each other. They shattered on impact, drawing blood as he got a cut. He hissed in annoyance instead of pain. There was pain, though, but he had been through enough pain in his life for it to be tolerable. The annoyance was due to his level. Such inconveniences such as a cut from a broken shard of simple glass did not exist after level fifty.

Panic slipped into Aiden's chest as Estabel got to spice sellers just a step behind him. He darted left rather than keep moving forward. The action sent him crashing into a boy carrying a bundle of rugs. Aiden staggered as the fabric exploded into the air. His legs seemed to tangle with each other as he lost his footing.

The last thing he needed was to fall here.

With a frown, he threw himself to the air. His hands landed on the ground, and he flipped himself into a somersault. He flipped once, then twice, rolled along the ground, staining his coat in dust, and pushed himself back to his feet.

He'd lost two or three shards of glass in his flip, but it did not hinder his plan too much. As he resumed his run, he drew engravings on each shard of glass he still had. All three engravings were the same, save simple flourishes that allowed them to stand out from each other as was the way with the engravings.

[You have used Class skill Unarmed Engrave]

Aiden glanced back once more as the engravings glowed gently only to find Estabel standing still, staring at him with her jaw hanging low in shock. She somehow managed to look impressed at the same time. Then she shook her head, as if dispelling her surprise, and resumed her chase.

Somewhere in his periphery, Aiden caught sight of one of her aides—the man she gestured into the market.

Fuck! He swore, darting to the side once more.

His hands moved about in front of him as he sent people scattering. In the end, he caught a space between two buildings—an alleyway. Aiden ducked into it without hesitation. Alleys were a runner's favorite path, after all.

The moment he entered the alley way, he was happy to find that it was not a dead end. It burst out into another street, but he needed a few strides to cross it.

He was halfway through the alley when the air around him grew slightly heavier than normal, then it tingled a little. Aiden knew the shadow effects of a spell when he felt one. They tended to come a split moment before a spell took effect.

Ducking suddenly, he pushed himself to the side, into one of the walls. The air exploded in a blue glow and a hand shot out for where his head should've been.

"Got you!" Estabel barked in victory as she suddenly appeared beside him, replacing the blue glow.

Her fist closed around nothing and a frown marred her face as Aiden's entire body tackled her into the alley wall.

Or at least tried to.

Aiden frowned as he slammed into her. He hadn't known what spell was coming. Ducking and dodging had been entirely about evading, not tackling a [Mage] into a wall. Worse, slamming into Estabel was like running into a brick wall.

The lady didn't even budge.

"What the—" Estabel looked down at him with a frown. "How did you…"

Aiden tried to roll away from her, but she reached down with lightning speed and caught him by the scruff of his neck. Lifting him easily, she turned and slammed him into the wall.

The force of the impact threatened to knock the wind out of him.

"Why are you running?" she asked, completely confused. "I thought you would be happy to see me."

Aiden met her gaze, searched them from behind her spectacles. What the hell?

What he saw in her eyes claimed that she really believed that he should've been happy to see her.

Why?

While they were not enemies, it was not as if they were friends. Why would he be happy to see her? Why would she be under that level of misconception?

As the thoughts ran through his head, Aiden realized a little belatedly that his feet were dangling in the air. Estabel had him raised and pinned to the wall with a hand on his chest.

"Why are you so fucking strong?" he blurted out, failing to keep the words in his head.

Estabel shrugged, trying to conceal her displeasure at the question. "I'm long lived, dear."

Bullshit.

Aiden knew 'long-lived.' And the [Mage] class, even when long lived, was not known for its strength stats. Besides, no one on this side of Nastild lived long enough to develop this certain level of strength as a [Mage].

Looking down at the hand on her chest, he saw that she was wearing a hand glove. It was most likely enchanted and the true reason for her strength.

"Stop struggling," Estabel told him as he slipped the shards of glass in his hand into one of his coat pockets. "Why were you really running from…"

Her words trailed off as her eyes narrowed. Aiden wondered what had caught her attention when she moved her gaze from him to his left hand. He looked down and paled when he saw his left sleeve was drawn up. He shook his arm, trying to pull down the sleeve when Estabel reacted to it.

She removed her hand from his chest, but before Aiden could fall to the ground, she tapped the end of her staff against his chest.

"No." Her word was a stillness in the air, like a mother chiding a child.

As if to add weight to it, ice spread from her staff where it touched Aiden in a single instant. In the blink of an eye, Aiden was pinned to the wall in what looked like a spiderweb of ice, each string thick and strong.

Estabel ignored him as chills crawled up Aiden's body. It was cold but not necessarily to a freezing point.

Taking her time, she moved to his left arm and pulled up his sleeve. She frowned as she did, then proceeded to take off his glove.

Head still bent low to his hand, she looked up at him. "What happened to you, child?"

Aiden said nothing.

"What has become of your arm?" she pressed.

Aiden sighed. "I don't know."

"Have you had it checked?"

"By?"

"Anyone."

Aiden's arm twitched as he felt a thousand invisible eyes settle on his arm. Estabel had just used the [Detect] skill on it.

Her frown tightened and she looked up at him again. "This is serious. How are you not bothered?"

Aiden was more bothered about the fact that he was stuck to a wall by a spiderweb of ice and at the mercy of a Mage Radiant.

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"My arm still works pretty well," was all he could say.

"This needs to be studied," Estabel mused. "I will take you to one of the branches of the Mage Radiants where we will look into this. You will give me your father's name and I will inform him of where you are as well as your safety."

Aiden pressed his lips into a thin line. This was definitely not what he wanted right now. His mind ran in a cacophony of thoughts on how to escape as Estabel studied his arm. There would be no escaping from his current situation. But if she let him down and started guiding him away, leading him to wherever, there would be a moment there.

He would find his escape, then he would get Valdan and Ted and get the hell out of Bandiv as quickly as possible.

Estabel poked the arm with her finger and Aiden felt a spark there, a static shock. Estabel snatched her hand back and looked up at him.

"Did you feel that?"

Aiden narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. "Feel what?"

"Your arm." She pointed at the arm. "It just twitched. I felt something in the mana. Maybe…" she raised her staff very slowly. "Your arm seems to have some kind of influence on the mana around it. What exactly? I do not know. But I can find out."

Her staff moved very slowly, approaching the arm, and Aiden almost addressed it. Clamping his mouth shut instead, he held his tongue and waited. If he was lucky…

The end of the staff touched his arm, and the staff exploded in a massive blast of white light. It was blinding, filling the entire alley and blotting everything out of Aiden's sight.

He felt himself press against the wall in the presence of the light. The chill spreading up his chest disappeared suddenly, and Aiden fell to the floor. His legs wobbled beneath him, but he didn't fall to the ground.

When the light dissipated, Estabel was on the ground on the other side of the alley, pressed against the wall. She looked groggy and her spectacles were covered in cracks. Her staff, to Aiden's surprise, lay unharmed two arms length away from her.

What the hell is that thing made of? Aiden wondered as he pushed himself towards the exit from the alley, remembering how the [Sage]'s staff had been destroyed back at the palace.

"Don't go," Estabel croaked, reaching for her staff. "You need to have your… arm… looked at."

Aiden was already at the edge of the alley now, about to step into the next street. He spared a moment to look back at her. He had the perfect response for her—something along the lines of how he would not be experimented upon against his will.

The words died in his mouth the moment Estabel's hand closed around her staff. The both of them stared slack jawed at the staff as the entire thing crumbled into dust—staff and orb alike.

"No, no, no, no, no." The words spilled from Estabel's lips, drenched in horror and confusion. "This can't be. Gods no. No. How am I… How…"

She looked up and her eyes focused on Aiden. No, not Aiden. They focused on his blackened hand. He hadn't picked up his hand glove in his retreat.

Estabel opened her mouth and spoke. "Don't—"

Aiden refused to hear what else she had to say. Turning his back on her, he stepped into the busy street and pulled the shards of glass from his pocket. He turned his head left then right, paid attention to what was happening on both sides, then threw out two shards of broken glass, one from each hand, each in opposite directions. Then he wove an enchantment unto himself.

[You have used Class skill Enchanted Weave]

…

[You have used Weave of Lesser Blink]

[Effect: Teleportation across short distances]

Looking to his left, he felt the world warp around him.

A moment after, he was gone, blinking to the shard of glass still soaring through the air to his right.

The glass evaporated into nothingness as he appeared in its place.

Blending into the crowd, Aiden was gone.

…

Aiden strolled into the Harrowbeard inn, not surprised to find that it also doubled as a tavern. Most inns in Nastild were taverns, but it was not common to find a tavern that was also an inn—if that was easy to understand.

A few minutes ago, he had thought he would be running into it, panting like a man chased half his life and under the sun, eyes frantic and searching out Fjord or Valdan or Ted. But that was not the case.

After he had blended into the crowd in his successful escape from Estabel, he had—for some reason—lost the sense of urgency that had plagued him the entire chase. He blamed it on Estabel's now nonexistent staff.

In Nastild, those with the [Mage] class were dangerous and difficult to deal with. A [Mage] with a mage-staff was even more annoying. A [Mage]'s staff was like an [Enchanter]'s grimoire, not that [Mages] did not also have grimoires. An [Enchanter] could not be expected to have all the enchantments they knew kept in their heads so they had books—grimoires—where they penned down whatever enchantments they had learnt.

An [Enchanter]'s grimoire was a simple thing. There were no instructions or complicated algorithms, merely enchantments scribbled on each page. The only real complexity to such grimoires was when you stumbled upon the greater enchantments. Their complexity was born from the fact that their construction consisted of a combination of both lesser and actual enchantments. The combinations and orders were often complicated and roundabout. And that was the max of it.

A [Mage]'s grimoire, however, was a consistently complicated thing. There were the simple spells that existed just as almost all things have their simplicities, but even those rivaled the greater enchantments of an [Enchanter] in design. In order to solve that complexity and not have themselves carrying grimoires about, [Mages] learned to use magical staffs.

Most of their spells were kept in their heads while they crammed a few they considered complex and important in their staffs. Facing a [Mage] without a staff had you worrying if they were just so talented that they didn't need a staff to store spells or if they simply could not afford a staff. Staffs were also used for storing mana and more accurately channeling spells but that was a discussion for another day.

Seeing Estabel's reaction to her staff being destroyed had lulled Aiden into a sense of security. If that had been her reaction, then there was a possibility that she fell into the category of [Mages] who used their staff as a crutch, storing basically all the spells they knew and saving none in their memory.

If that was the case, Aiden would not have to worry about her being half as efficient as she had been when chasing him.

So, he had strolled all the way to Harrowbeard, taking turns and unnecessary corners, making sure there was no one tailing him.

The tavern was like most taverns he had been in, loud and hot, filled with the smell of cooked meat and the taste of alcohol in the air. There were chairs and tables and people. Waitresses moved around with trays balanced skillfully on raised hands, reminding Aiden of the fact that even non-combat classes could have combat use if you just channeled the skills properly.

The [Waitress] class—depending on how it was developed—often gained a skill that helped with balance and evasion. When fighting in a group, balance and evasion were essential traits you needed to possess.

Shaking the line of thought, he made his way to the bar, weaving through the tables, ignoring snippets of conversation and batting away the overzealous hand of a man who had reached out to cup his butt. The grizzly of a man had been happy to guffaw at Aiden's dissuasion while commenting on the succulence of his behind that could not be hidden by his coat.

Aiden knew for a fact that the compliment was a lie. He would not say that he had a flat butt, but it was definitely not so big that a coat would be unable to conceal it.

When he got to the bar, the barkeep he was met with was a bulky lady. She tied a scarf over her hair and had sharp eyes that came with years of being a mother to far too many unruly sons.

She was easily his height and twice his weight in meat, and she raised a hand to stall him, even though he hadn't said anything. Aiden waited patiently as she finished up with the customer she was attending to before she finally turned to him.

"Who are you looking for?" she asked. Her voice was husky. Aiden wouldn't necessarily call it deep, but it was deep for a woman.

He paused, giving himself a moment.

"I ain't got all the time in the world, kid," she muttered in mild annoyance. "If you don't know who you're looking for, order a drink and leave."

With that, she turned and was about to leave when Aiden opened his mouth.

He was silenced by a hand on his forearm. Estabel's face flashed in his mind and he reacted immediately. He spun. Grabbing the arm by the wrist, he guided it over his head, spinning beneath it, and tossed the person in an uncomfortable throw. His new assailant went flipping through the air to land on his back.

Aiden stepped back, about to flee when his brain registered how easy it had been to escape the hold.

His assailant let out a pained groan and the lady behind the counter cocked a questioning brow at Aiden.

"Take all fights outside or else I will be forced to have one of the boys interfere," she said simply before walking off to attend to another customer as if she didn't really care about the fights.

Aiden looked from her to his still downed assailant and let out a sigh.

"You really shouldn't be sneaking up on me, Fjord," he muttered, reaching down to offer the boy a hand. "Hasn't anyone told you that it's not polite to sneak up on people?"

Fjord took his offer, grabbing his hand and pulling himself up. "Mama always said that people who react that way are usually up to no good or involved with someone that's up to no good."

Aiden gave him a flat look.

"Or they've seen a lot of people who are up to no good," Fjord added very hurriedly. "Should I be worried?"

Aiden glanced at the door out of nothing but habit, checking if his pursuers had somehow caught up with him. He was just in time to catch a woman with copper hair, bosoms that were difficult to simply ignore, and clad in a simple green gown stroll into the tavern.

Beside her was a man who looked dressed like the son of a Lord.

Aiden watched her smile at the man as she had smiled when she had been talking to him about her dreams of opening a bakery and was surprised at how it affected him. He wasn't jealous, just…

Aiden pressed his lips into a thin line that was almost a frown when he realized that he could not name what effect the sight had on him.

"Lord Lacheart," Fjord said, drawing his attention.

Aiden turned the frown on the boy. "What did I say about how you address me?" he asked, making sure to speak calmly.

"I'm sorry." Fjord bowed his head slightly in apology. "I will not make the mistake again."

"Understandable," Aiden replied. "Why are you the only one here? Where are the others?"

"They got a room upstairs."

Aiden nodded since that was a reasonable answer. "And you?"

"I opted to stay behind so that you didn't have to go through the stress of finding us."

"That's… very helpful," Aiden noted.

Again, Fjord bowed, this time in acceptance of the compliment. "We wanted to get you a room but your brother said that the both of you would be sharing one."

That was definitely not a part of the plan but Aiden nodded. "That sounds about right. Unfortunately, you will have to call them out. We cannot stay much longer. Tell them to meet in front. We'll get the jepats and be gone. Tell them I said that plans have changed."

Fjord paused. Aiden saw the question on the boy's lips and was surprised when Fjord did not ask it.

Instead, Fjord said, "Yes, sir."

Then he was gone, rushing away from Aiden.

Aiden watched the boy go. People who obeyed without asking questions were the easiest people to use. And he meant that both in a good way and a bad way.

Just make sure you do right by the kid, he told himself. All he wants is a job and a way to learn. It shouldn't be too hard.

"So, what are you?" A voice asked from beside him. "Some young lord that bullies his servants?"

Aiden frowned before he turned. That was the second person to just walk up to him without getting him alert. Was he missing them because they were completely innocent and without intent against him?

Turning, he plastered a kind smile on his face. It came a little too easily and felt a little too genuine.

"Kid snuck up on me," he answered, still smiling. "Force of habit makes me react… violently, dare I say." He looked at his new companion, then around her and his smile waned a little. "Where's your date, Jelemi? I remember seeing the both of you walk in."

Jelemi shrugged, raising a hand to one of the waitresses who had just slipped in behind the counter. She held out two fingers to the lady who nodded before turning away.

"Talent is sitting patiently, waiting for me to get the drinks," she answered, returning her attention back to him.

"And is that a normal thing?"

"He hasn't been to this side of town before." Jelemi shrugged. "I figured it would be better that I do the ordering while he sits down and tries to get acquainted with the place. Why? Are you about to say something about how it is not gentlemanly of him?" There was a twinkle in her eye as she said the words, then she leaned in, drawing a little closer. "Are you about to woo me and steal me from my date, young lord Rogers?"

If Aiden looked down, he would get a full view of her cleavage. He kept his eyes fixed on hers. The twinkle there meant she was either just teasing or she was dropping hints.

Aiden blinked once, then twice. His smile slipped slightly. Forcing himself to remember Estabel, he gave her a teasing smile of his own and raised his hands in surrender.

"Far be it from me to take a woman from an innocent man," he said in good nature. "I hope he is ever the gentleman, dear."

Jelemi stared at him for a moment before letting out a disappointed sigh. "I hope he is, too," she muttered. "But sometimes, a lady doesn't want a complete gentleman." She gave him a weak smile. "Sometimes we want a delinquent that takes what he wants, the rest of the world be damned."

Aiden was feeling delinquent-y in this moment, but forced himself to take a few steps away from her.

"Sorry, dear," he said to her. "But I've got to see a jepat about a thing."

Jelemi nodded then made a shooing gesture at him. "Go away, Lord Rogers, before you take a woman from an innocent man."

Aiden turned away and made his way towards the exit of the tavern, eyes on everyone around him. He spent a heartbeat or two longer on Jelemi's date but tried not to think too much about it as he stepped out of the tavern.

Running his hand through his hair, he finally realized the effect Jelemi smiling at her date had had on him. He also realized that it was the smile that had affected him, not the fact that it had been directed at the man.

Want.

The smile had made him want her.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself.

You really need to get laid.

…

The air was still, unswaying and unmoving. Stagnant in a way Ted found slightly annoying. But it was his fault. He had been the one who'd closed all the windows the moment he'd entered the room.

He was currently lying down on the single bed in the room, breathing deep controlled breaths as he thought about what kind of skill would be a befitting manifesting skill for him. From the little Aiden had told him through their travels, it was a skill you—in a way—picked for yourself. It was a skill that worked best for you. A trump card, so to speak.

The answer was a no brainer. He was a [Summoner]. What he needed was a skill that allowed him to perform mass summoning. That way, he could easily become a one-man army.

Something strong, he thought. Something that would increase my mana capacity vastly so that I can maintain the familiars.

He frowned at the thought. That felt like he was asking for too much. If it was going to give him a lot of mana, he still needed it to allow him to summon a lot of familiars. Right now he could only summon a maximum of fifteen familiars at a time, and only if they were fifteen levels and less than him. The closer the familiar was to his level, the more the numbers dropped very significantly.

"I need numbers," he muttered to himself, his nose wrinkling at the smell of hibiscus filling the air from an unlit candle in the room. "I'll deal with increasing mana myself."

Numbers, he thought, eyes closed.

Slowly, he felt a tickling sensation in his chest. It was a little thing, like the brush of a feather that would not go away. It grew gently until it began to feel eerily familiar. He frowned as he gave it his attention, reaching out for it metaphorically.

In his figurative action of reaching out, his hand shot up from the bed as if to grab something. The action jerked him and his eyes shot wide open. His interface hovered in front of him. To his greatest surprise, it was doing something he had never seen it do before.

The notification didn't just appear in front of him, he watched the words come to life slowly as his interface scribbled his notification in real time.

"That is not at all odd," he muttered sarcastically as the sensation in his chest grew deeper and deeper.

[Congratulations!]

[You have earned a Manifesting Skill!]

[You have earned Manifesting Skill Gates of—

A knock on the door interrupted Ted's focus and the notification fell apart, fading away into nonexistence as if it had never been.

A new one popped up in front of him, fully formed as usual.

[Error detected!]

[You have failed.]

[You have not earned a Manifesting Skill.]

What in the name of Cotonou? Ted groaned as he rolled off the bed.

"Who the hell is it?!" he snapped a little too angrily.

"Fjord, my lord," came the response.

With a surly frown, Ted opened the door. The boy, Fjord, stood timidly in front of the door. He looked like an innocent child that had just been scolded. Behind him, Valdan stood with arms folded, staring past Ted and into the room.

"Not angry at you, kid," Ted said with a sigh. "I just messed something up all by myself. What's up?"

"Your brother has said that I should inform you and Sir Valdan that the plans have changed and we will be leaving right now."

Ted sighed. There went his plan to make Aiden sleep on the floor in stage one of his payback for letting him drink what he was now calling a Nastild Milkshake.

As Ted closed the door behind him, stepping out of the room, he thought he caught residues of black smoke disappearing in the room. Either that or his eyes were playing tricks on him, because it was a lot.

Fjord was frowning as they went down the stairs, looking at the empty air in front of him. He looked confused.

"Is everything fine?" Ted asked him.

"I'm not sure, my lord," Fjord muttered. "When I was at your door, my mana stats were… unstable."

Ted paused and looked at Valdan. The knight was looking at him too as they both shared the same thought.

Demonic mana.

"We've got to hurry," Valdan said, picking up the pace.

Ted agreed.

It was possible that the reason Aiden was changing their plans had something to do with it. From what Ted knew, the possibility of a demonic mana appearance was not a good thing. It didn't matter if the idea of it never felt threatening to him.

As for his manifesting skill, it could wait until things had calmed down. At least he had an idea of what it was.

Gates of something, he thought as they headed out of the inn. Gates of Something.

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