Chapter 126 - HA 126

Chapter 666 - Chamber of Emberheart

"What would you have me do, Madam?"

"One day in the Chamber of Emberheart."

"Mother!" Irina's voice cut through the room, a mixture of alarm and frustration flashing in her eyes. Her objection was immediate, her voice tinged with concern that she could barely contain. "You can't seriously expect him to endure that. The Chamber isn't something just anyone can withstand. Even our family members, who have natural resistance to fire, face difficulty with its intensity." She looked to Astron, a hint of worry in her expression. "Even I… one of the most skilled of our family, struggled in that place."

The Matriarch's gaze shifted to her daughter, her expression a cold mask of authority. "Exactly, Irina. If this young man truly deserves the access and privileges you've asked of me on his behalf, then he should be capable of enduring what we endure." Her voice held a steely edge, firm and unwavering. "And if he cannot, then it will be a clear indication that his place is not beside an Emberheart."

She turned back to Astron, her gaze piercing. "The Chamber of Emberheart is not a test of simple strength or resolve—it demands resilience and adaptation. It will push you to your limits, and it does not forgive weakness."

Irina opened her mouth to protest again, but the Matriarch silenced her with a raised hand. "Irina, you yourself spoke highly of him, vouched for his capability. Do you not believe he can rise to this challenge?"

Irina hesitated, torn between her trust in Astron's resilience and the harsh reality of the trial her mother proposed. She knew the Chamber's intensity, the way its flames seemed to consume even the strongest minds. She had survived it, but it had been a grueling ordeal, a test even for those whose very blood carried the Emberheart flame.

"But….mother…"

"Do not worry. I am not stupid." The Matriarch's gaze shifted back to Astron, her expression stern yet calculating. "Since you are an outsider," she said, her voice cool and resolute, "I will not expect you to endure the Chamber as one of us would. You will be tested at the first level only. One day—no more."

Irina's eyes widened, her worry plain, but she knew better than to argue further. Her mother's decision was final, and beneath her composed exterior, Irina understood her mother's reasoning. This test was inevitable, a calculated move she had likely intended from the beginning. For the Matriarch, it was a twofold purpose: if Astron truly proved himself, she would be forced to acknowledge him, however begrudgingly. But if he failed, the experience would serve as punishment—a harsh reminder to Astron for daring to challenge her authority, and to Irina, a warning of the cost of misplaced loyalty.

Irina cast a glance at Astron, who met her gaze briefly before nodding, calm and resolved. She could see that he understood the stakes just as well, that he saw this not only as a test but as a challenge to stand on equal footing with the family she'd been born into.

The Matriarch's voice softened, though her words were as unyielding as ever. "Consider this, Mr. Natusalune, both a trial and a lesson. If you can withstand even this single day, I will grant you the access Irina has requested. If not…" Her words trailed off, the implications unmistakable.

Astron nodded once, his tone steady. "Understood. I have no intention of backing away."

A faint, cold smile appeared on her lips. "Then I suggest you prepare. You will enter the chamber in one hour."

As the Matriarch left the dining room, her cold parting words lingering in the air, Irina's gaze immediately turned to Astron, her expression clouded with concern. Her mind raced, grappling with a mixture of frustration, worry, and self-doubt that threatened to overwhelm her composure.

'How could he possibly withstand the Chamber of Emberheart?'

The Chamber was an ordeal few could endure, even those born with the Emberheart flame coursing through their veins. Irina had barely survived her own trial, and she had the inherited resilience of her family. But Astron—an outsider with no natural resistance to fire—was being expected to last a whole day within its relentless heat.

'This is madness,'

she thought, bitterness pooling in her heart. She felt an intense resentment rising within her, directed first at her mother, whose calculated cruelty had led to this. Her mother's unyielding standards, her disregard for Astron's well-being—it was all a display of power, a reminder that she controlled everything, even her daughter's choices.

But her frustration didn't end there. She felt anger at Astron too, who hadn't backed down despite her warnings.

He could've backed down swallowing his pride, but instead, he'd faced her mother's challenge with that same infuriating calm. His resolve, his unshakable confidence—it was as though he didn't even realize the risk he was taking.

And then, a deeper resentment twisted inside her, one that she turned inward. She felt a sting of self-reproach for being unable to stop her mother, for being forced to sit by and watch as he stepped into a trial she knew was meant to break him.

"Why didn't you refuse?" Her voice was low and strained as she looked at him, her eyes reflecting the depth of her worry. "Astron, this isn't just some simple test. The Chamber… it's meant to push you beyond your limits. It's unforgiving."

He held her gaze, his expression as steady as ever, though she could sense the quiet resolve behind his calm exterior. "I know," he replied simply, his tone reassuring. "But this is my choice. If I want to be taken seriously, I need to prove myself."

Irina bit her lip, feeling the weight of helplessness press down on her. "But you don't have to do this," she murmured. "This… this is my family…."

Astron's gaze softened, and he took a small step closer, his calm demeanor anchoring her even as her emotions churned. He didn't know why, but seeing her down like this….

For some reason, he felt really uncomfortable.

PAT!

His hand instinctively reached out for her head, who had been looking down.

"Irina," he said gently, "this is as much about you as it is about me, now."

Astron's hand rested gently on Irina's head, a comforting warmth that steadied her despite the storm of emotions twisting inside her. He looked down at her, his gaze unwavering, a quiet strength that she couldn't ignore.

"You must have known," he murmured, his tone gentle but resolute. "From the very start, the Matriarch had this in mind. Sending me to the Chamber was always her plan. No matter what we did or said, this was bound to happen."

Irina looked up, her eyes teary, but her expression was one of realization. "So… there was only one way to avoid this." Her voice was soft, filled with a sadness she hadn't let herself feel until now.

Astron met her gaze, nodding. "Yes. And that way was for us never to meet."

His words settled heavily between them, but then he added, his voice softening, "But I don't regret it."

Irina's eyes widened, a surprised blush spreading across her cheeks. She could feel her heart racing, and before she could process the overwhelming warmth that his words stirred in her, she instinctively buried her face in his chest.

This infuriatingly calm, insufferably steadfast…

She couldn't even finish the thought, feeling her cheeks grow hotter as she struggled to find her composure.

After a moment, she managed to breathe, murmuring quietly, "Right? What am I even doing?" She took a deep, steadying breath, her embarrassment mingling with a renewed sense of strength. She wiped away the faint traces of her earlier tears, her resolve hardening once more as she looked up at him.

"I don't regret my decision either," she said, her voice steady, filled with a quiet determination. "No matter what happens in that Chamber, I'm glad we met."

"Heh…..You have returned to yourself."

Astron's faint, reassuring smile was the only response she needed. However, what she wanted wasn't there.

'This guy…..He really should smile more…..'

With this deadly face, she really wouldn't be able to keep herself down, but so what? Though, eventually she felt like dying of embarrassment.

"Cough…..It wasn't because of you, or anything! Don't get it wrong!" And she could only resort to her usual way of acting.

"Really…..?"

Astron didn't need to smile for Irina to see the amusement in his eyes. He was calm as ever, but she could tell he was enjoying this, the faint glint in his gaze enough to make her huff in annoyance.

"You bastard… you really make me worry all the time," she muttered, lightly hitting him on the chest. Her hand barely made an impact, but it was enough to convey her frustration.

Before she could pull away, Astron caught her hand, his grip gentle yet firm. His hand was cool to the touch, and the sudden contrast sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. He leaned in slightly, his voice calm but edged with a teasing undertone. "Isn't that good?" he murmured. "Better than not thinking about me at all, right?"

Irina glared up at him, but her heart raced, his words lingering in her mind. She pulled her hand back sharply, only for a playful idea to spark. Without a second thought, she leaned forward and bit his finger, quick but enough to make her point.

The surprise flickered in his eyes, though he didn't pull away. Instead, he watched her with that same unflinching calm as she smirked, feeling a triumphant satisfaction at having thrown him off-balance, if only for a moment.

"Thank you for the meal~," she said, her tone cool, though her cheeks were still faintly flushed. And with that, she turned and quickly left, her steps brisk as she tried to regain her composure, leaving him to process her unexpected act of defiance.

Chapter 667 - Chamber of Emberheart (2)

"Thank you for the meal~."

Irina hurried out of the dining room, her heart still racing as she strode quickly through the corridors. She moved purposefully, her footsteps echoing off the polished floors as she made her way outside to the garden. The moment she stepped into the open air, she took a deep breath, letting the cool breeze help calm the lingering heat in her cheeks.

'Get it together,'

she told herself, placing a hand over her chest to steady her pulse. She forced herself to look at things from an objective perspective, reminding herself of the task at hand: Astron was about to face the Chamber of Emberheart—a place that demanded far more than simple endurance.

Just as she began to compose her thoughts, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Astron emerging from the mansion, his expression steady as always. For a moment, she felt that same flicker of frustration at his calmness, but she pushed it aside, focusing on what needed to be done.

"Astron," she said, her tone shifting to something more serious. "There are things you need to know about the Chamber."

He moved closer, nodding in silent acknowledgment, his attention fully on her.

"It's… unlike anything you've faced before most likely," she began, her voice low but firm. "The Chamber of Emberheart isn't just a test of physical endurance. It's a place designed to test your very essence. Its flames… they burn deeper than just flesh. They reach into your mana, your willpower, everything that holds you together."

She looked away, her gaze distant as she recalled her own experience in the Chamber. "When I was in there, it felt as if the flames were stripping away every layer of who I was, testing if I was worthy of wielding the Emberheart flames. For someone without our family's affinity… it can be overwhelming."

Astron's expression remained calm, but she could see the faint glint of resolve in his eyes. "And what's the best way to handle it?" he asked, his tone thoughtful, almost curious.

Irina took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "Don't resist the flames outright," she advised, her gaze returning to him. "The more you fight, the harder they'll push back. Instead… let them test you. Accept their intensity but don't let them consume you. Think of it as a negotiation with fire itself. If you endure and adapt, the Chamber might recognize your strength, even if you're not from our bloodline."

She hesitated, feeling a pang of worry, but pushed forward. "This isn't a test of raw power. It's about resilience, Astron. And if anyone can handle that… I believe you can."

Her mind still raced, trying to think of any possible way to aid Astron in the Chamber. When she'd undergone the trial, Esme had secretly provided her with herbs to bolster her endurance—a quiet act of rebellion against the harshness of the ordeal. But she doubted her mother would allow the same leniency for Astron. This was different; he was an outsider, and the Matriarch was not one to give unearned advantages.

Still, she couldn't help but hope, and so she called for Esme, the faint thread of determination in her voice.

Esme arrived swiftly, bowing respectfully. But even before Irina could open her mouth, the older woman spoke, her expression sympathetic yet resigned. "I'm sorry, young lady. The Matriarch has already instructed every maid to refrain from offering any assistance. We are not to interfere with the trial."

Irina paused, her faint hope extinguished. After a moment, she let out a soft, bitter laugh, waving her hand to signal Esme's dismissal. She should've known her mother would cover every angle, ensuring that Astron's test was as unforgiving as possible.

Esme gave her a respectful nod, her expression laced with a quiet understanding before she turned and left, leaving Irina and Astron alone once more.

Once Esme was out of sight, Irina sighed, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I should have expected that. She never leaves anything to chance." She looked up at Astron, a trace of resignation mixed with the glimmer of her usual defiance. "So… it really will be just you and the Chamber."

Astron simply nodded, accepting this without complaint, his calm unshaken. Irina's chest tightened. She knew he'd go in without hesitation, but that didn't ease the worry gnawing at her. All she could do now was prepare him with what little advice she could offer.

"If there's anything else you need to know or… any way I can help, just tell me," she murmured, her voice softer. She wished, more than anything, that she could do something to tip the scales in his favor.

"It is fine."

Hearing his steady response, Irina found herself studying his face, her gaze tracing the calm lines of his expression. For a brief, unsettling moment, she saw a flicker of another timeline, a version of him where he had lost himself completely, swallowed by powers and burdens that had fractured his spirit. The memory lingered, raw and haunting, as she imagined the agony he must have endured.

She didn't want him to feel that pain—not again, not ever. But she knew this world had its own rules, indifferent to wishes or pleas for mercy. Life here demanded strength, unyielding and often brutal, and though she wished she could shield him from that reality, she understood that no words or sentiment could alter it.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she reached out, leaning her head gently against his shoulder, grounding herself in his presence. The warmth of him, steady and unwavering, was a comfort she hadn't expected to need. She knew he didn't often seek support, didn't rely on anyone but himself, and yet she hoped that he might feel her quiet resolve beside him, even if unspoken.

For a moment, they stood like that, the silence between them filled with unspoken promises. She closed her eyes, letting the cool air mingle with the warmth of their connection. "Just… remember," she murmured softly, "I will be there."

And she really intended to uphold her words.

*******

The Chamber of Emberheart loomed before them, an ancient structure that seemed to pulse with the energy of generations past. Towering, weathered stone walls framed the entrance, etched with intricate patterns of flame that glowed faintly, as if alive with the latent power of the Emberheart legacy.

It spiraled downward into the earth, each level intensifying in heat and fury, until at the deepest depths lay the legendary Fire of Amber—a primal, unyielding flame that had tested the worth of every Emberheart heir.

Irina stood beside Astron, her face a mask of composure, though her eyes betrayed the quiet turmoil roiling within her.

The Matriarch, ever poised and unreadable, moved with calm authority, her gaze fixed on the door to the Chamber as it slowly creaked open, the ancient metal groaning in response.

The air was thick with an oppressive heat that radiated from within, and a subtle, almost inaudible hum of magic thrummed from the walls. The Chamber exuded an energy that seemed to look right through you, measuring, judging—a sentinel of the Emberheart legacy.

The Matriarch stepped inside, her demeanor unchanged as the wave of heat washed over her. She glanced at Astron, her expression firm yet strangely expectant, as if silently daring him to falter before he'd even begun.

"This is the Chamber of Emberheart," she announced, her voice steady and unyielding. "Each level grows more intense, requiring not only endurance but absolute control over one's own mana and spirit. It demands resilience, a clear mind, and the strength to confront one's own limitations." Her gaze hardened. "You will only be entering the first level, as discussed. But do not be deceived—this trial is not for the faint of heart. Even the first level has claimed many who were… unprepared."

Astron held her gaze, undeterred, his expression calm and resolute. Irina, watching him closely, could sense the subtle tension in his posture—the readiness for what lay ahead, the acceptance of the challenge. He was prepared, even if the path before him was unlike anything he had faced.

The Matriarch turned her gaze to her daughter, her expression unreadable, though there was a faint glint of steel in her eyes. "Irina, I trust you understand that this is his test alone."

Irina clenched her fists, the words stinging even though she'd expected them. "Yes, Mother," she replied, her voice low but steady.

"Then, why–"

"I will enter with him," Irina declared, her voice firm and unwavering as she turned to face her mother. She'd anticipated resistance, but she wasn't prepared to simply stand by, not when Astron was about to face the Chamber.

The Matriarch's eyes narrowed her expression hardening. "No," she replied, her tone brooking no argument. "I do not trust that you would be able to remain impartial. This is his trial, Irina, not yours."

Irina clenched her fists, struggling to contain her frustration. "I can promise you, I won't interfere. I only want to be there—"

But before she could finish, Astron spoke, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "If she enters, you'll never be convinced," he said, his gaze steady on the Matriarch. "It's better this way."

Irina's face twisted with concern, her resolve wavering as she looked at him. She knew he was right—her mother would never truly consider his trial legitimate if she were inside with him. This had to be his fight alone. She had only been testing the waters, hoping against reason that her presence might be allowed.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded reluctantly. "Fine," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The Matriarch gave her a faint, knowing glance before leading them down the dim stone staircase that spiraled into the depths of the Chamber. They descended in silence, the air growing warmer with every step, carrying the scent of smoke and ember. The weight of the Chamber's ancient energy pressed against them, filling the space with a palpable, almost living heat.

They stopped at the entrance to the first level, a large stone door carved with intricate flames. The room beyond seemed to glow with an ominous red light, the fire within casting shifting shadows on the walls. Irina's heart raced, her hands cold despite the heat around them, but she kept her face steady.

She wanted to say something, to offer him words of encouragement, but she found herself at a loss. All she could do was hold his gaze, hoping he could feel the silent support she offered.

He stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the first level of the Chamber of Emberheart. The door closed behind him with a heavy, resonant thud, sealing him inside.

Irina stood there, her heart pounding, her eyes fixed on the closed door.

Chapter 668 - Chamber of Emberheart (3)

The moment Astron stepped into the chamber, the searing heat pressed down on him like a physical weight, saturating the air with an intensity that would have crushed lesser men.

The room was bathed in a deep red glow, the shadows shifting and dancing along the walls as small tongues of fire licked at the edges of the stone. Yet, for all its warmth, he knew instinctively that this was only the beginning. The true test had yet to reveal itself.

He moved further into the room, his steps careful and measured, and settled in the lotus position at the center of the chamber.

Closing his eyes, he began to steady his breath, allowing his awareness to expand. His mana senses unfurled slowly, reaching out like invisible tendrils to probe the environment.

The ambient mana here was thick, dense with the potency of generations of Emberhearts who had faced these flames, and he could feel the lingering echoes of their battles imprinted on the very air.

The formations carved into the walls were intricate, a latticework of glowing runes that pulsed with restrained energy, holding back the flames from overtaking the room entirely.

He recognized them as a containment barrier—designed not to suppress the fire entirely but to temper it, to keep it just at the edge of tolerance. He observed the patterns, noting the subtle fluctuations in their glow, a rhythm that seemed to echo the heartbeat of the chamber itself.

'So, this is how they regulate the fire,'

he thought, admiring the craftsmanship in the formations.

The runes appeared ancient, etched with a precision that spoke of countless hours spent refining and perfecting each line, each symbol. He could feel the strength of the barriers surrounding him, designed to shield only this small area for initial acclimation.

Despite his calm exterior, he remained vigilant, attuned to every shift in the air around him. He knew that the trial would begin in earnest soon, that the flames would test him, pushing beyond the barrier, seeking to consume him as they had all who had entered here before. His mind replayed Irina's words:

–

"Don't resist the flames outright… Let them test you. Accept their intensity, but don't let them consume you."

As he sat, he adjusted his breathing, inhaling slowly and deeply, allowing his mana to align with the rhythm of the chamber.

He could feel the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on him, an almost sentient force that sought to gauge his worth.

The trial was more than just withstanding flames; it was a confrontation with something deeper, a force as ancient as the chamber itself, one that would strip him to his core to see if he could endure.

Seconds ticked by in silence, the only sound was his slow, controlled breathing. And then, with a sudden surge, the formations around the room dimmed, the protective glow receding as the true trial began. The flames surged, advancing toward him with unrestrained fury, licking at his skin as the heat intensified.

Astron steadied himself, letting his mana flow smoothly through his body, fortifying his spirit against the overwhelming heat. He reminded himself of Irina's advice—to yield to the flames, to let them probe his defenses without fully surrendering. This was a test of resilience, of his ability to endure and adapt, not through sheer force but through balanced acceptance.

As the fire crept closer, he could feel the first tendrils of heat curling around his body, searing through his defenses.

"Grrrr..."

The pain was immediate, raw, and unforgiving, but he held steady, letting the flames weave around him, studying the sensation as if it were a curious intruder. He felt his mana react instinctively, pushing back just enough to maintain his boundaries but not resisting outright.

The room pulsed with energy, testing him, measuring his spirit. Each flicker of flame seemed to probe deeper, burning through his mana and reaching toward his essence. Yet, he remained still, his expression calm, his focus unwavering as he settled into the rhythm of the flames, matching their cadence with his own.

'This is just the beginning,

' he reminded himself, feeling the weight of the challenge settle upon him. The true heart of the flames lay further within, beyond the outer layers that merely probed. Here, he was but at the threshold.

******

The flames crawled closer, and as they did, the silence around me deepened. It's strange how, when left in silence—true silence, with only the heat pressing down and no distractions—thoughts creep in unbidden.

Most people fear the quiet more than they care to admit. They fill their lives with noise, with flashes on screens, messages to respond to, and voices echoing in their minds. Anything to escape that solitude.

Because when it's just you, stripped of every distraction, every responsibility, you're left with only your thoughts. And that… that's where it gets dangerous.

For those who carry regrets, the silence is a mirror, reflecting every failure, every moment they wish they could bury. In times like these, distractions are a comfort, a way to avoid looking too closely at what festers beneath the surface. Phones, screens, constant interaction—it's an escape.

A wall they've built against the echoes of their own voices. But here, in this chamber, no such escape exists. The flames strip you down, leaving nothing to hide behind.

The heat bore down on me, like a hand pressing into my chest, and I could feel my defenses stretch thin. Memories surfaced, fragments of the past… a reminder of what drove me here in the first place.

I forced my breathing to remain steady, in sync with the rhythm of the flames, trying not to let those memories dig too deep. Because the truth was, I knew that feeling too well. The need to keep moving, to fill every moment with something tangible, something that kept me from the silence.

But here, with the fire pressing against my skin, burning into me, I couldn't afford to run from my own mind. The flames seemed to sense it, to push me toward that place, to make me face every weakness, every regret. My chest tightened, the heat digging past the layers of mana I'd reinforced, reaching into something deeper, something I could barely defend.

"Haaah….."

I let out a slow breath, feeling it blend into the thick, burning air around me. Maybe that's the true purpose of this trial.

Not just to test physical endurance, but to strip away all the barriers we've built within ourselves, forcing us to confront what we hide from. I had always considered myself prepared, and disciplined, but even I felt the edges of my resolve strain under the weight of my own thoughts.

Or maybe, I am just trying to pass the time, maybe this is just me with my random thoughts wandering around my mind.

That was most likely the case.

The pain….

It was indeed too much.

'It hurts really bad….'

It did hurt really bad.

'This… is different.'

The thought flickered through my mind as the heat sank deeper, digging past layers of what I'd come to accept as pain. I'd been burned before—hell, I'd been through every kind of injury imaginable. In the organization's training halls, I'd been broken and put back together, tested until every nerve screamed.

Fighting demons, I'd felt claws tear into flesh, the cold burn of their mana seeping through my skin. And the Void Dragon… I'd barely come out of that with anything intact.

But this fire—no, it was something else entirely. It didn't just burn; it

invaded

. It wasn't content with my body alone. It dug in, gnawing at my mind, warping thoughts that were already raw from being dredged up in the silence. I could feel it, pressing in on my focus, trying to unravel the thread I was clinging to.

'Irina wasn't exaggerating. This fire doesn't just test; it breaks.'

The pain was unpredictable. One second, it would flare, scorching me until I couldn't breathe. Then, it would pull back, leaving a chilling emptiness that almost felt worse. There was no rhythm, no pattern I could adapt to. Just a relentless, shifting wave of agony that kept me on edge, never allowing my body the mercy of adjustment. I couldn't get used to it. Every time I thought I'd found my footing, it twisted, found a new place to dig in, a new part of me to tear open.

'Focus. Don't let it in.'

But my mind wandered, in spite of myself. I couldn't hold on to a single thought for more than a few seconds before the fire found a way to distract me, to shake me loose.

'What is this…? It's not just pain—it's in my head. It wants me unfocused. Disoriented.'

My breath came in ragged gasps, each inhales like swallowing a mouthful of embers. I tried to hold to something solid, anything that would keep me steady. But even my memories of past training seemed warped here, distant and strangely muted.

The memory of Senior Maya's herb resurfaced the bitter taste, the burn as it forced its way through my veins. I'd thought that was the height of endurance then. And the training when I first joined the organization? I'd been sure

that

would be the last time I'd feel pain that intense. But this fire felt… alive like it was burrowing into my thoughts, finding the memories I wanted hidden, dragging them out into the open.

'This… this is what they meant. The flames

probe

. They find the cracks.'

The heat grew sharper, more intense, and my focus wavered again, slipping as the fire pressed harder. Every moment I stayed here, it felt like it was peeling back layers, stripping me down to something I wasn't sure I wanted to see. The pain wasn't the worst part. It was the feeling of vulnerability, of having nowhere to hide from myself.

'Am I just… passing the time with this rambling? Trying to escape my own mind?'

A flicker of doubt settled in, prickling like another flame.

Was

this just a distraction, another excuse not to face what lay at the heart of this fire? I gritted my teeth, feeling frustration bubble up against the flames, a resistance I knew wouldn't hold for long.

'It hurts. It hurts really bad…'

The thought came unbidden, raw, and unfiltered. For all my preparation, my training, there was no denying it. This was pain on a level I hadn't imagined—because it was

different

. It didn't stop at the body, didn't settle at the skin. It burned through, reaching places I hadn't wanted to be exposed.

'I'm… going to feel this in my mind for a long time, aren't I?'

But as much as I wanted to pull back, to shield myself, I knew that wouldn't work here.

Chapter 669 - Chamber of Emberheart (4)

'How long has it been… hours? Minutes?'

Time had become something distant, slipping away like sand through my fingers. Each second stretched, distorted by the heat until I couldn't tell if I'd been here for a few breaths or half a day. Everything blurred into a haze of scorching air, searing pain, and the relentless pressure pushing down on me.

I could feel my own pulse thundering against the inside of my skull, each beat a reminder that I was still here, still enduring. But for how much longer? The fire wrapped around me, and pressed deeper, and my thoughts grew faint, scattered in the heat.

And then… something shifted. Subtle at first, a faint, almost imperceptible sensation—a tremor, like a ripple inside my chest, spreading outward. It felt… foreign as if it didn't belong to me, yet at the same time, intimately familiar. It wasn't the flames; no, this was something different, something that moved from within rather than pressing down from outside.

'What… is this?'

The feeling grew, spreading through my body like a silent current, pushing back against the fire in a way that felt… instinctual. I couldn't pinpoint it, but it was there, pulsing just beneath my awareness, building in intensity, matching the rhythm of the flames but working against them. It was as if some force within me had finally awakened, responding to the fire's challenge.

'Ah….Right…..'

The haze around my mind began to thin, as if that steady, foreign pulse was carving a path through the fire, clearing the fog that had consumed my thoughts. My awareness sharpened, the oppressive heat retreating to the edges, no longer clouding my mind. I could feel clarity returning, my senses recalibrating as the fire's grip lessened.

And then I realized it—

my subconscious had acted

.

Somewhere, deep within, I'd triggered an old safeguard. My mana had traveled along a pre-planned path, connecting to something I'd embedded beneath the surface, something that, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have needed. But this was exactly why it was there, why I'd planned for a scenario like this in the first place.

I glanced down, and there it was: the faint glint of a small, nearly invisible needle pressed into my chest. I could feel it embedded near the ganglion just below my collarbone, exactly where I'd set it. The pain from it was sharper than the flames, precise and unyielding—a clean, piercing sensation that cut through the numbing heat like a knife.

'So, it worked…'

"Haaah….."

I let out a slow breath, feeling the faint sting of relief. This needle—this tiny mechanism of my own design—was a tool I'd developed when I'd begun studying psychic magic, particularly the mental defenses that could be employed in extreme conditions. I'd wondered,

what if I encountered something that could warp my focus, that could slip through the cracks in my defenses?

Something like the flames here, that didn't just attack the body but also the mind?

And so, I'd crafted a solution. A needle, enchanted with just enough magic to stay hidden beneath my skin, with a small reserve of mana directed toward it. In the event that my thoughts were compromised, my subconscious would release that mana, sending a surge of pain through my chest—sharp enough to cut through any mental haze, but controlled so that it wouldn't compromise my physical state.

'A bit unconventional, but necessary.'

I leaned into the feeling, letting that controlled pain bring me fully back to myself. It wasn't overwhelming; it didn't distract from the flames, but it gave me something to anchor to, a solid line that my mind could follow back to clarity. The fire continued to burn, pressing in with its relentless fury, but now I could meet it with clear intent.

'And now, you will start to act.'

The moment I thought it, I felt a familiar pull—a sudden, intense drain as my mana began to flow, not outwards, but inward, toward the center of my chest.

–The

Everchanging Glyph

.

It flared to life, pulsing beneath my skin like a second heartbeat. The rune's ancient symbols, etched into me through countless hours of training and adaptation, began to absorb mana at a steady, insistent rate. It was a sensation I'd grown accustomed to during training, but here, under the relentless assault of the flames, it felt different—hungrier, more eager. It was as if the glyph itself sensed the extremity of the environment, the intensity of the flames, and recognized it as a call to evolve.

'So, this is how you react…'

I let the glyph do its work, feeling the familiar tingling spread through my limbs as it adapted, recalibrating my body. This was its core purpose—the ability to shift, to adjust to any condition, to place me in the most optimal state for survival. It was as though my body and mana were reorienting themselves, aligning with the chamber's conditions. Muscles tensed, then relaxed, my skin grew attuned to the heat, feeling it more acutely but managing to endure it more efficiently.

A faint glow spread from my chest, like faint embers flickering to life just beneath my skin. The glyph was adapting, realigning every fiber, every cell, until my body understood the conditions here and began to acclimate. I could feel my breathing ease, each intake of air no longer searing my lungs as intensely. Even my skin felt less vulnerable, almost as if it had developed a slight resilience to the heat licking at it.

'Good. Now we're getting somewhere.'

The Everchanging Glyph had been invaluable in training, adjusting my body to withstand fatigue, amplify strength, or enhance agility.

But here, in the Chamber of Emberheart, I could feel it pushing itself further, beyond what I'd experienced. This wasn't just about stamina or strength. It was a full-body adaptation, aligning me with the unyielding heat of the flames themselves.

The rune's power dug deeper, reaching into the recesses of my mana reserves and siphoning it in controlled bursts, fueling the changes with precision. I felt my heart rate steady, my muscles relax, and my skin cool slightly, an effect that didn't lessen the fire's presence but made it… bearable. I could feel the glyph tuning me to the rhythm of the flames, matching its cadence with my own, like two forces reaching an understanding.

'This is the basis of the glyph… complete adaptation.'

The fire surged again, pressing in, testing my defenses. But now, I wasn't merely enduring. I was meeting it with something that grew stronger with each wave, a force that evolved as quickly as the fire shifted.

The Everchanging Glyph was feeding on the mana, growing more attuned to the environment, syncing with the chamber's unique mana signature. It understood the flames' rhythm now, the ebb and flow of their heat, and it adjusted my body accordingly.

Every nerve and every muscle responded in kind, evolving in real-time. And in that moment, I realized something crucial: this trial was no longer just a test of endurance. It had become an opportunity—a way for the glyph to evolve, to mold my body and mind into something sharper, more resilient.

'If this is the Chamber of Emberheart's test, then bring it on.'

With the glyph blazing into my body, I met the flames head-on, feeling not just the burn, but the edge of something powerful building within me. The chamber might have been designed to strip me down, but here, with my glyph pushing me to the threshold, I was becoming something new, something forged in fire. And I knew, without a doubt, I would emerge stronger.

********

The following evening, Irina sat across from her mother at the long dining table, her posture composed and her expression unreadable. She sipped her tea calmly, her eyes fixed on the view beyond the window as though nothing unusual had transpired.

The Matriarch observed her daughter with a hint of surprise, her brows lifting slightly. She had expected Irina to look more unsettled, perhaps distracted or visibly restless, given that Astron had spent the night in the Chamber of Emberheart. Yet here Irina sat, serene and composed, as if it were any other morning.

"Surprisingly calm today, aren't we?" the Matriarch remarked, her tone deceptively casual as she studied Irina. "I half-expected you would be pacing around, perhaps anxiously awaiting news of his… performance."

Irina met her mother's gaze with an unwavering calm, her expression unflinching. "I trust him," she replied simply, her voice steady. "He knew what he was getting into, and I believe he'll endure. Worrying won't change anything."

The Matriarch's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the underlying determination in her daughter's words. "Trust," she repeated, her tone holding a faint trace of skepticism. "It's easy to place trust in someone until that trust is tested. I wonder, Irina… will he live up to the faith you so freely give?"

Irina took a measured sip of her tea, meeting her mother's gaze without hesitation. "He's stronger than you think," she replied. "And if he proves himself, I trust that you'll see him in a different light."

The Matriarch's smile was faint, her eyes gleaming with a mix of intrigue and quiet satisfaction. "We shall see," she murmured, her voice soft but edged with authority. "If he truly survives the Chamber, he may indeed deserve a second look. However, resilience in a single trial is no guarantee of worth. Only time and consistent strength reveal the truth."

Irina held her mother's gaze, her own eyes fierce but composed. "Then I suppose he'll have more opportunities to prove himself."

The Matriarch allowed a small smile, watching her daughter closely.

So composed,

she mused,

even when faced with uncertainty.

Perhaps Astron's influence was not entirely unworthy—Irina's quiet confidence was, in itself, a testament to something she had long searched for in her daughter.

Just as they returned to their meal, the heavy sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. The Matriarch's attention shifted, a hint of curiosity flickering across her face as the door to the dining room slowly opened, revealing one of the Emberheart servants.

"Madam, Lady Irina," the servant announced, bowing deeply. "Mr. Natusalune has emerged from the Chamber."

Irina's expression softened, relief flickering in her eyes for just a moment before she composed herself again. She exchanged a look with her mother, her silent confidence steady as ever.

The Matriarch's expression remained neutral, though her eyes betrayed a hint of surprise—and perhaps, grudging respect. "Bring him here," she said, her voice smooth and measured. "It seems he has earned a conversation."

Chapter 670 - Armory

"Bring him here. It seems he has earned a conversation."

A few moments later, Astron stepped into the dining room, flanked by the servant who had escorted him. Clad in fresh clothes provided by the Emberheart household, he looked composed, his posture steady and unbowed. His face was calm, his gaze unwavering, as if the previous night's ordeal in the Chamber had barely affected him.

The Matriarch's eyes narrowed slightly, betraying a flicker of surprise that she masked quickly. She had expected him to emerge weary, perhaps showing signs of strain or even quiet relief at surviving the Chamber's trial. But here he stood, exuding the same steady resolve that had infuriated and intrigued her in equal measure.

"Mr. Natusalune," she greeted him, her tone measured, laced with an undertone of challenge. "I trust the Chamber was… enlightening?"

Astron inclined his head respectfully, his voice calm. "It was a worthwhile experience, Madam."

The Matriarch's eyebrows lifted slightly at his understatement.

Worthwhile?

she thought, the faintest glint of amusement mingling with her skepticism. Few who entered the Chamber spoke of it so casually, especially after facing the grueling intensity of even the first level. Yet Astron spoke as if it had been merely another trial.

"Worthwhile, indeed," she replied, her tone cool. "One would think a night in the Chamber would leave a more lasting… impression."

Irina's gaze flicked to Astron, her eyes betraying the hint of a smile. She had anticipated his resilience, but even she was surprised by how composed he appeared now, standing firm beneath her mother's sharp scrutiny.

Astron met the Matriarch's gaze without flinching. "The Chamber challenged me, but it also provided an opportunity to learn and adapt. For that, I'm grateful."

The Matriarch leaned back, observing him intently, her gaze penetrating as if searching for any hint of weakness. After a pause, she inclined her head slightly. "Interesting. Few emerge from the Chamber of Emberheart with such… poise. Even fewer would speak of adaptation so calmly. It seems you may indeed have a resilience beyond mere words."

Irina's expression softened, a small hint of pride flickering in her gaze as she looked at Astron. He had not only endured the Chamber—he had emerged stronger, more resolute, proving himself in a way that few ever could.

The Matriarch allowed a faint smile, her eyes gleaming with a grudging respect. "Very well, Mr. Natusalune. You have passed this trial, and with it, you have earned the access Irina requested."

She paused, her gaze shifting to Irina briefly before returning to Astron. "But remember—this family values strength, consistency, and loyalty above all else. Your actions may have earned my attention, but respect in this household is earned time and again."

'Especially, if you wish to get my daughter.'

She did not say this part out loud.

"We understand, mother…..So, please can you let him have a breath…..He just got out from the chamber."

The Matriarch's expression softened slightly, a rare, almost indulgent smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she observed her daughter's protectiveness. She let her gaze linger on Irina for a moment, something unspoken yet significant passing between them.

"Very well," she said, her voice carrying a note of resignation mingled with quiet amusement. "I will leave him to you, Irina." With a final, appraising glance at Astron, she added, "Mr. Natusalune, remember—this is merely the beginning."

With that, the Matriarch turned and left the room, her footsteps light but deliberate, each one echoing in the quiet that settled after her departure. The door closed softly behind her, leaving Irina and Astron alone in the dining room.

********

Irina let out a quiet breath, relief evident in her eyes as she looked at him. "So… it seems you've managed to surprise even her," she said, a small smile breaking through her composed demeanor. "Are you all right?"

Irina narrowed her eyes, stepping closer, her gaze intent as she studied him. Standing directly in front of him, she raised a hand and gently touched his cheek, her fingers grazing his skin as if to confirm for herself that he was truly unharmed. His body temperature felt surprisingly normal, cool, and steady—not at all what she'd expected from someone who had spent a night in the Chamber of Emberheart.

She murmured softly, almost to herself, "Indeed… you're not burnt or anything. Perfectly fine, even."

Her fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a quiet sense of relief settling over her as she looked into his calm, unwavering eyes. It was as though the grueling trial had barely left a mark on him, though she knew that couldn't be the whole story. Even the strongest in her family emerged with some sign of the Chamber's touch—a scar, a lingering heat, something to mark the experience.

Astron tilted his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers with a gentle intensity. "It wasn't easy," he admitted, his voice low. "But I managed."

A faint smile tugged at her lips, and she let her hand fall, though she didn't move away. "I'd call you reckless if I didn't know better," she murmured, her tone softened by a touch of admiration. "You really don't know how to quit, do you?"

"This time, there wasn't any choice to quit."

"Yeah…."

Irina's gaze held his, her bright yellow eyes tracing the depths of his dark purple ones. She studied them closely, feeling herself drawn in by their calm intensity. Slowly, her eyes drifted down, lingering over the line of his nose, then settling on his lips. Her hand, which had rested on his cheek, instinctively moved, her fingertips grazing his lips, her touch light and tentative.

She had put on a strong front earlier, feigning calm as she faced her mother's scrutiny. But the truth was, she hadn't slept well at all last night. Worry had gnawed at her, every worst-case scenario flashing through her mind. And now, standing here, with him not only safe but having earned her mother's approval… it felt surreal, like a hard-won reward she hadn't dared to expect.

Her fingers lingered, and for a moment, she allowed herself to take in the quiet warmth of his presence, savoring the relief that came with knowing he had truly returned to her, unscathed.

Maybe… just this once,

she thought, a faint, almost mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

I deserve this.

Without another word, she leaned in.

"Cough….."

Just as she leaned in, a sudden, awkward cough sounded from the doorway, startling Irina out of the moment. Her eyes widened as she looked over, spotting a maid standing there, balancing a tray of plates, her face visibly flushed. The maid's gaze darted away, but not before Irina caught the faint hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

In an instant, Irina pulled back like a startled cat, her own cheeks warming with a fierce blush. She coughed, attempting to regain her composure, though she could still feel the maid's knowing glance as she hastily set the tray down on a nearby table, her eyes studiously fixed on anything but the two of them.

Irina cleared her throat, willing herself to act natural, though the moment of vulnerability had left her flustered. "Thank you," she said to the maid, her voice a touch higher than usual. The maid quickly bowed, murmuring a polite response as she made a quick exit from the room, clearly trying to spare them both further embarrassment.

Once the door closed, Irina let out a soft, mortified sigh, her gaze finally shifting to Astron, who was watching her with a faintly amused expression. She crossed her arms, her cheeks still tinged with pink and shot him a mock glare. "Not a word," she muttered, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

Astron held up his hands, his face the picture of innocence. "I wasn't going to say anything," he replied, his tone calm, but she could see the glimmer of humor in his eyes. It only made her blush deepen, and she turned away, silently cursing the interruption and her own impulsiveness.

"You….You really…."

Irina trailed off, her cheeks still burning as she struggled to find words that wouldn't betray how flustered she felt. She spun around, making her way to the table where the maid had left the plates. Her hands moved quickly, almost as if by instinct, lifting the lid to reveal a well-prepared meal, likely something her mother had ordered to be served to him as part of her own silent acknowledgment.

As she picked up the plates, it dawned on her that the maid had discreetly given them some privacy, likely to spare them both the awkwardness of her witnessing that almost-moment. The thought made her cheeks flush even more, but she steadied herself, determined to focus on something practical. Astron had just emerged from a brutal trial, and she knew he hadn't eaten anything substantial all day.

"This… is for you," she said, clearing her throat as she set the plate in front of him, trying to keep her tone steady. "You've been through enough already. Now's not the time for distractions."

Astron looked at her as he took his seat. "I suppose, thank you? Lady Irina."

She took her own seat across from him, trying to shake off the embarrassment still lingering in the air between them. Watching him begin to eat, she felt her own tension ease a little, reminded of the simple importance of just… being here. After everything he'd endured, her worries and blushes seemed trivial, and she found herself smiling faintly as he ate.

"Eat," she murmured, almost to herself, as if the reminder was as much for him as for her own peace of mind.

******

And just that night...

Astron stood right before a place.

"This is the place….."

It was the armory of the Emberheart Family, as Irina had promised…..

Chapter 671 - Armory (2)

The Emberheart Armory loomed before Astron, its heavy, ornately engraved doors casting long shadows in the dim light. This was no ordinary armory—it was the culmination of centuries of Emberheart legacy, a place where power was not only stored but guarded with an almost sacred reverence.

Standing there, he understood why Irina's mother had put him through such a brutal test. Irina had clearly spoken highly of him, likely even bragged, and that alone would have sparked her mother's interest. But granting an outsider access to this armory? That was a different matter entirely.

For someone outside the Emberheart family, gaining entrance to the armory was a privilege beyond imagination. Even Irina herself had limited access to its treasures; if she needed an artifact, it would be brought to her, not something she could simply choose freely.

It wasn't that her mother wanted to hold her back—far from it. The Matriarch was strict, but her discipline was rooted in a desire to see her daughter's potential fully realized. For an outsider, however, earning the Matriarch's trust was another challenge entirely.

Astron, of course, had known this. He understood the implications of requesting access, and he'd prepared himself for the scrutiny that would follow. He was fully aware that Irina's mother would need to assess him thoroughly, and he had accepted the Chamber of Emberheart's trial without question. As he stood there, he took a deep breath, his mind steady and focused. This wasn't just about accessing powerful artifacts—it was about respect and proving that he was worthy, even by the exacting standards of the Emberheart family.

Just then, he heard quiet footsteps behind him. Irina approached her expression a mixture of pride and quiet satisfaction. She glanced at him, noting his calm, ready demeanor, and gave a slight nod.

"I knew you'd make it here," she said, her voice filled with quiet pride. "My mother doesn't let just anyone step foot into this place. You've earned it."

However, at the same time, she somehow felt like this guy knew everything from the beginning. "Were you…..expecting this?"

Astron shrugged, a calm expression on his face. "This much was evident. If I were in the Matriarch's shoes, I'd have done the same. It's understandable."

Irina studied him, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "Not even the Chamber of Emberheart?"

He paused, a flicker of surprise passing over his face—barely noticeable, but she caught it. For just a moment, his composed demeanor slipped, and she realized that even he hadn't expected to be thrown into that kind of trial. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Here he was, the man who always seemed to have everything under control, showing a glimpse of uncertainty. It reminded her that he was just as human as the rest of them.

The realization softened her gaze.

He's not invincible,

she thought, feeling a warmth she couldn't quite name.

He's here, facing challenges head-on, and even if he doesn't know exactly what's coming, he's still willing to take the risk.

She gave him a faint smile. "So, you don't always have everything figured out, do you?" she said lightly, a teasing note in her voice.

He looked at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Apparently not. Even I miss a few details now and then."

Irina felt her heart skip a beat at his subtle, self-aware humor. The detachment he usually showed seemed to soften, just for that moment, and she liked seeing him like this—more grounded, more real. The quiet vulnerability he'd shown reassured her somehow, a reminder that despite his strength, he was also figuring things out one step at a time, just like she was.

"Well," she said, folding her arms and feigning indifference, "I'm glad to know you're human after all. Makes things a little more… manageable."

"I am of course a human. What else can I be?"

"A blockhead, humph," Irina replied, folding her arms with a smirk. "That's exactly what you'd be without me."

Astron shook his head, amused. "I'll take that as a compliment—if it means I'll be spared more of your… instruction."

For a brief moment, it was just them, the usual tension between formality and duty absent. Irina felt lighter than she had in days, as if they'd managed to step outside the expectations of their world, if only for a moment.

But their lighthearted exchange was soon interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Irina turned, her smile fading as she recognized Esme, her old nanny and her mother's closest aide, approaching them. Esme offered a polite bow, her expression professional and unyielding.

"Lady Irina. Mr. Natusalune," Esme greeted them, her tone formal. "The Matriarch has requested that I oversee Mr. Natusalune's visit to the Armory. I will ensure everything is conducted properly."

Irina's expression shifted, a hint of annoyance crossing her face as she shot Esme a displeased look. She'd been hoping to guide Astron through the Armory herself, to show him each artifact in her own way, without the formality and oversight that Esme's presence would bring. But she knew better than to argue; her mother had likely anticipated this and sent Esme as a precaution. She kept her frustrations to herself, managing a curt nod instead.

Astron, on the other hand, simply nodded in acknowledgment, his demeanor calm and respectful. "I understand. Thank you, Miss Esme."

With Esme now leading the way, the three of them moved through the grand corridors, Irina and Astron following behind. The faint disappointment Irina felt was evident, though she forced herself to let it go. It wasn't worth making a scene over, especially with her mother's trust riding on Astron's respectful conduct. Still, she couldn't help but glance over at him now and then, a small, knowing smile shared between them whenever Esme's back was turned.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the Emberheart Armory, a pair of towering doors adorned with intricate carvings and blazing fire motifs, the legacy of the family engraved into every corner. Esme stepped forward, placing a hand on the doors and activating a concealed mechanism that caused the heavy doors to part slowly, revealing the treasures within.

*******

As Esme stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch the carved flames on the towering doors, I watched with a careful eye. Her fingertips ignited with a controlled flicker of fire, and she placed them on specific points along the door's intricate carvings. The flames licked across the surface, tracing a path in sync with the patterns embedded in the wood. It was almost ceremonial, each touch igniting another section of the door, like a series of locks being released in succession.

'So, the doors recognize her mana through fire… a security mechanism keyed to the Emberheart lineage.'

The carvings glowed as Esme continued, the fire illuminating each motif in brilliant shades of red and orange. I could feel the power humming from the doors, the ancient magic in them responding only to her touch.

Even from a distance, the heat radiating from the doors was palpable, like standing too close to an open flame. The mechanisms, despite their age, felt potent, undiminished by the years.

'This isn't just magic—it's a legacy, indeed.'

I glanced around, noting the intricate runes etched into the stone walls, the carefully inlaid gems pulsing faintly beneath the surface. They'd been placed with precision, reinforcing the room's structure, binding the magic to the very walls and floors of this place.

It was remarkable; everything looked at least three centuries old, yet it functioned as if crafted yesterday. This wasn't some show of wealth or vanity. It was the Emberheart family's way of preserving their heritage, their history etched into every corner, every surface.

Esme completed the sequence, and with a deep rumble, the massive doors began to part, revealing the Emberheart Armory. The air grew heavier as they opened, an aura of contained power seeping out. I could almost taste it—raw, concentrated, and ancient, the unmistakable weight of treasures held in one place for centuries.

'They've guarded this place well.'

I stepped forward, the light from the armory spilling out around us. I glanced at Irina beside me, catching her subtle reaction—a spark of pride in her eyes mixed with a restraint that hinted at her own awe, even though this was her family's legacy.

This place was as much a part of her as her very name, yet it seemed to impress her every time.

'Knowing her childhood and seeing this reaction, it seems she hadn't been here a lot either.'

At that moment, I understood a little more about what had driven her, the weight of living up to something so carefully cultivated.

As we moved into the armory, I took in the sight. Weapons of every kind lined the walls, blades, maces, and axes, each one unique and steeped in Emberheart tradition.

Racks of armor stood like silent sentinels, their surfaces adorned with the same intricate fire motifs. Every artifact seemed infused with the family's signature flame, a testament to the centuries of Emberhearts who had wielded them.

I reached out, letting my fingers hover near a blade resting in its place. Even without touching it, I could feel the warmth emanating from it, a steady, controlled heat—a remnant of the fire that had forged it. It was clear each item here had been crafted with purpose, with reverence.

'Not bad… quite a collection of rare and unique-grade artifacts.'

As my gaze traveled across the racks and shelves, I recognized pieces that were undoubtedly beyond what most could ever hope to acquire. In the world outside, artifacts were classified by their power, rarity, and the skill required to wield them.

At the lowest end,

Common Artifacts

were almost household tools—minor enhancements with simple effects, available to just about anyone with the coin. Then there were

Rare Artifacts

, useful in the hands of trained fighters but limited in scope and power.

They were the types of items you'd find on seasoned mercenaries or moderately skilled hunters.

But here… here there was a different class altogether.

Unique Artifacts

dotted the room, each possessing singular effects that set them apart from mass-produced weaponry. These artifacts often carried stories of their own, passed down through generations, their powers honed to specific abilities. Irina's family had clearly put effort into gathering such items.

A good number of the weapons I could see displayed here were of this rank, and I suspected that these, while valuable, weren't necessarily the peak of the Emberheart collection.

'Indeed…..There is another section that could be accessed behind the place, but that is not what I am after in the first place.'

I came here with a clear goal after all.

Chapter 672 - Armory (3)

In the game, this armory had been a significant moment—entering the Emberheart mansion, gaining access to this storied place once the player's affinity with the Emberheart family had grown. Back then, the Matriarch had only opened its doors after the player had resolved certain conflicts within the family, earning her respect and trust. Access to the armory wasn't simply given; it was earned through blood and sweat, through proof that the player understood and upheld the values the Emberhearts lived by.

And even then, only the

first section

of the armory was open.

This wasn't the entirety of the Emberheart collection. They couldn't—and wouldn't—display their most powerful artifacts here, even within these walls. Epic-grade artifacts and beyond demanded layers of protection that went beyond a simple barrier or a locked door. They were relics of a different class, weapons, and tools that could shift battles, maybe even affect the course of entire wars. A family like the Emberhearts, with centuries of history, would have protocols, vaults, and more secure places to contain such rarities.

'They'd never keep anything higher than Unique-grade just lying out in the open like this. Items ranked Epic and above are kept under watch, only to be used for the most extreme reasons.'

I recalled that in the game, most of the families were notorious for their guarded nature regarding their artifacts, and rightly so.

Epic

artifacts were exceedingly rare—most kingdoms didn't even have one to their name. They were far beyond what could be acquired by even wealthy merchants or the highest-ranking nobles.

Legendary

artifacts were mythical, with only a handful existing across the world. It was no exaggeration to say that the possession of even a single Epic or Legendary artifact could elevate a family's influence to staggering heights, a power no one would leave unprotected.

But… does everything in this world work flawlessly?

Is there a single method that's foolproof, a system immune to error? The answer, of course, was a resounding

no

. Every structure has its flaws, and every safeguard has its weaknesses.

And in a world where artifacts were ranked and categorized, these classifications weren't as ironclad as they might seem. Classifying an artifact as Mythic or Legendary?

It worked well enough for bounded weapons, those that carried set attributes linked directly to the user's status window. But when it came to other artifacts, the process was less precise.

After all, what happens when a grading system fails to fully understand an artifact's hidden potential?

In the game, this ambiguity created hidden paths, secrets buried deep within the world's structure. Some players, those who were tireless in their search for every achievement, had uncovered a particular flaw in this armory. They'd discovered that by systematically testing every piece of equipment, they could uncover an artifact that didn't fall under its apparent classification.

'A hidden artifact… one that slipped through the system's categorization.'

It was something most players would miss, dismissed as a typical Unique or Rare-grade item. But for those who explored every option, digging beyond appearances and default labels, there was a reward—a piece that held properties above its apparent grade.

The grading system had failed to properly measure its potential, allowing it to hide in plain sight, overlooked by most who saw it.

And that was what the developers in the game exploited. In a sense, this was something that enabled them to include an easter egg in the game.

The developers had always been obsessed with realism, committed to building a world that felt immersive, detailed, and almost alive.

They left a few loopholes, crafted environments that reacted to player choices, and—whenever possible—added layers that made the game feel like a living world.

'Though knowing that I am in the game itself…..It is indeed questionable.'

Easter eggs, they reasoned, were part of this philosophy, subtle nods for players who were meticulous, who pushed beyond the obvious paths.

This artifact was one of their more ingenious creations, intentionally crafted to appear as a Unique-grade item, something valuable but ultimately modest. In truth, it was an Epic-grade artifact, its potential hidden by design. A system flaw, they justified it as, one that could feasibly occur in a real world, where even magical classifications might not grasp the true nature of certain relics. A rare find, meant only for those who looked deeper.

Just then, a sharp voice broke into my thoughts.

"So, what do you think?" Irina stepped forward, her eyes bright, her usual composed gaze replaced with a fiery curiosity. Her intensity caught me off guard, her expression openly interested as she glanced between me and the armory. "Is there a particular item you're after?"

For a moment, I considered telling her about the hidden artifact, letting her in on what I was searching for. But something held me back, a small spark of curiosity of my own. Watching her stand there, visibly invested, eager to see me take something valuable—something worthy of her family's armory—was unexpected. It wasn't just about duty or family pride. She wanted to share something meaningful, a gift that went beyond the Emberheart name.

'Interesting… she's really invested in this.'

I kept my expression measured. "Nothing specific," I replied, letting my gaze linger over the shelves. "I'm just… getting a feel for the options."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to read into my words. "You're not going to settle for just anything," she said, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I can tell you're sizing everything up, assessing. I thought you'd be more direct with what you wanted."

She wasn't wrong, but I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that. I shrugged, keeping my tone light. "I'm not in a rush. There's a lot to consider here."

Her smirk softened into something more genuine. "Good. Take your time, then. There's no point in picking something unless it truly resonates with you. I will also guide you."

I glanced at her, noting the way she watched me, the quiet enthusiasm in her gaze. She truly wanted me to find something worthwhile, something that would suit me in a way that went beyond practicality. And it wasn't just because I'd endured the Chamber of Emberheart or proved myself. She cared, a rare warmth underlying her words that spoke of more than just family duty.

"So," she continued, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, "I have to ask—what exactly are you looking for in a weapon or artifact? Something flashy? Something subtle?"

I tilted my head, meeting her gaze with a calm expression. "Maybe something a little… unexpected," I replied, allowing my tone to drop just enough to hint at mystery. I watched her eyebrows raise in intrigue, her curiosity only deepening. "Just try to guess."

Her eyes glinted. "Figures. You always keep me guessing."

Irina moved beside me, her gaze roaming over the artifacts with a thoughtful intensity. Being in the Emberheart armory, surrounded by the legacy of her family, she seemed almost at home. The artifacts here reflected the Emberhearts' specialty, their mastery over fire magic evident in nearly every piece. From the finely crafted staffs to enchanted amulets, almost everything here had a tie to flame—a signature trait of her lineage.

I watched as she lingered on an ornate staff, its surface adorned with crimson and gold runes that pulsed faintly with dormant energy. "This one increases fire magic output," she murmured, almost to herself. "An artifact like this could maybe double or even triple the potency of a flame spell according to its rank if low, amplifying the caster's reach and intensity. Though the same wouldn't be said for higher rank spells."

Her hand moved to another piece—a slim, obsidian bracelet etched with symbols of dancing flames. "And this," she continued, "enhances one's affinity with fire psions. It makes fire feel like an extension of the user's will, effortless and intuitive."

As she spoke, I noted the subtle pride in her voice. These artifacts were crafted not just with power in mind, but with precision, the expertise of a family that understood fire intimately, down to the smallest flicker. She walked to a rack that held a series of amulets, her fingers hovering over one with a shimmering ruby at its center.

"This one… grants a high resistance to fire damage," she said, her tone shifting, a hint of intrigue slipping in. "Most Emberhearts wouldn't have much use for it, given our natural resistance. But keeping artifacts like this here ensures they aren't accessible to rival families. No point in letting another house acquire it if it can serve us better here."

It made sense. These items weren't just weapons; they were resources, locked away here so that their potential couldn't be used against the family.

Still, I could see how some of these pieces would be invaluable for others outside the family. A mage without a natural affinity for fire could find their spells enhanced beyond anything they'd experienced.

A fire resistance artifact could be the difference between life and death in battle against a fire-wielding enemy. But here, in this armory, these treasures were safeguarded, their power contained to ensure they would never tip the scales in someone else's favor.

'That is one of the reasons why overall having people in one center tended to harm the general society.'

I thought. If these types of artifacts were to be revealed to the world and were to be distributed, that would enable many hunters to fight better.

But, that would bring its own set of problems.

After all, not every Huntter is a good person either.

Irina caught me watching her, a flicker of curiosity in her gaze. "What about you?" she asked, tilting her head. "Surely you've seen something here that speaks to you?"

"There are a few things," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "But I'm more interested in something… less direct. Perhaps something that doesn't rely solely on fire."

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes. "As expected, you're looking for versatility. Makes sense—fire may be our specialty, but you are someone who values a broader set of options." She turned back to the shelves, her gaze scanning for anything that might fit.

'Well, this nanny here seems to like watching the show as well.'

Overall, seeing Irina's enthusiasm, I wondered what kind of expression she would make when I made my decision.

'It will definitely be quite funny.'

Chapter 673 - Armory (4)

Irina moved through the armory, her gaze animated as she pointed out various artifacts, each one possessing a unique power or history. She seemed completely engrossed, lost in her enthusiasm as she shared the Emberheart family's legacy with Astron. Her eyes sparkled with pride and excitement, her explanations becoming more detailed and vibrant with each piece.

"This one here," she said, pointing to a dark, crimson blade hanging elegantly from the wall, "was wielded by my great-uncle during the Battle of Runes. It's said to channel the heat of molten lava, making it nearly impossible to parry."

Astron nodded thoughtfully, his gaze studying the blade's fine craftsmanship and the intricate runes etched into its surface. "A weapon like this isn't just for attack—it's a statement," he murmured, meeting Irina's gaze with quiet admiration. "Your family's attention to detail is… impressive."

A faint blush crept up Irina's cheeks, but she quickly masked it with a haughty grin. "Of course. It's Emberheart craftsmanship, after all," she replied, her tone playfully smug.

Unbeknownst to her, Esme stood silently nearby, observing the two with a faint, knowing smile. Despite being sent by the Matriarch to oversee Astron's visit, Esme could see that her presence had faded into the background for Irina, who was entirely absorbed in sharing this part of her world with him. Her young charge had never been this animated while explaining anything before.

Irina, meanwhile, continued to point out various pieces. "Now, this," she said, indicating an amulet embedded with a dark, glistening gemstone, "isn't just a simple accessory. It's one of the few defensive artifacts in the collection that manipulates heat into a barrier. Useful in close combat situations."

Astron raised an eyebrow. "Heat manipulation into defense… that's more intricate than a typical shielding artifact."

"Exactly," she said, a touch of pride in her voice. "Our ancestors believed that fire wasn't just for offense but could be mastered and harnessed to protect as well."

"Were you there when your ancestors gathered this?"

"I don't need to be there to understand what they were thinking."

"Really?"

"Humph. Just listen."

With each artifact, Irina became more animated, almost forgetting herself entirely. For her, this moment was more than just showing off family heirlooms—it was a chance to share the legacy she held close to her heart with someone who respected its weight and significance.

"So," she continued, holding up a small, intricately carved pendant, "this one—"

She suddenly stopped, noticing Esme standing nearby with a bemused expression, her eyes flicking between Irina and Astron with a trace of knowing amusement.

Irina blinked, realizing how deeply she'd been absorbed in showing Astron around. She coughed, shifting slightly, her earlier confidence replaced by a slight awkwardness as she glanced at Esme.

'Why am I even conscious of her? It is not like I am doing something wrong.'

She reassured herself, shaking off the momentary self-awareness. With renewed focus, she continued showcasing the artifacts, her enthusiasm returning as she pointed out more treasures, each with its own story, legacy, or unique power.

Finally, she turned to Astron, a spark of curiosity still bright in her gaze. "So… have you finally found what you wanted?"

Astron met her gaze, nodding. "I have."

"Oh?" Her interest piqued, she leaned in, eyes brightening with anticipation. "What is it?"

Without a word, Astron moved forward, glancing back briefly to ensure she was following. Intrigued, Irina fell into step behind him, watching as he navigated past several rows of grand, fiery artifacts that had once belonged to her family's most renowned members. She wondered what had caught his attention and resisted the urge to guess, letting him lead the way.

After a few more steps, they stopped in front of a small, inconspicuous section near the back. There, resting on a simple wooden stand, lay a slim bracelet. It had a delicate, unassuming design—nothing like the imposing weapons and enchanted amulets scattered throughout the armory. A small note underneath identified it as a rare-grade artifact that granted the wearer a modest boost to agility.

Irina raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. 'This… isn't even one of the pieces I showed him.'

It dawned on her that he must have noticed it on his own, reading the note without her assistance. She reached out, studying the bracelet more closely. The boost it offered was practical but modest, designed for speed rather than power or grandeur. 'Not exactly a mage's first choice,' she thought, noting why her family hadn't prioritized it. It wasn't tailored for their fiery specialty, and to most Emberhearts, agility alone was hardly noteworthy.

"You chose this?" she asked, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow, genuine curiosity lacing her voice.

It was indeed a weird choice.

Her expression couldn't help but get twisted as she stared at the bracelet, a mixture of bewilderment and frustration flickering across her face.

'Of all the artifacts in the armory… he chose this?'

she thought, almost insulted on behalf of the other artifacts.

There were items in here that were centuries old, imbued with the fiery power of Emberheart legends—each crafted to be wielded with respect and to demonstrate the Emberheart's dominance over fire.

And yet, here he was, gravitating toward something as modest as an agility bracelet. It was almost as if he were silently dismissing every other piece in the room, deeming them unworthy.

'What the heck? Isn't he basically saying, "You're all not worthy of me; this bracelet is enough"?'

she fumed internally. The worst part was that Astron wasn't even someone who needed an agility boost. Speed had always been his strongest asset, from what she had observed. He had outmaneuvered countless opponents without breaking a sweat. 'What could he possibly be thinking?'

She shot him a glare, trying to mask her growing irritation. But as she lifted her head, she saw him looking at her with that unmistakable glint in his eyes—amusement, plain as day. He was clearly enjoying her reaction, and the faintest hint of a curve tugged at the corner of his mouth as if this whole charade had been orchestrated just to see her struggle with his choice.

"You think this is funny?" she snapped, her voice tinged with frustration. "I spent all this time guiding you through my family's prized armory, showing you our finest artifacts… and

this

is what you choose?"

Astron's calm gaze met hers, and he tilted his head, the hint of amusement still lingering. "Why?" he retorted, his tone light yet pointed. "On what basis are you saying this was the wrong choice?"

Irina's brows knit together, her frustration simmering as she took in his composed expression. She narrowed her eyes, feeling her patience wearing thin. "Are you

really

asking me that?" she replied, her tone laced with disbelief.

"Yes," he replied simply, his gaze unwavering. He waited, clearly inviting her to explain herself.

'Fine,'

she thought, crossing her arms and letting out an exasperated sigh before speaking. "All right, let's start with the obvious. You don't even need an agility boost, Astron. I've seen you in action. Speed is already your strongest trait! And here you are, picking the one thing that adds more speed, ignoring all the other options that could actually offer you something

new.

"

She gestured around the room, her voice rising in frustration. "This armory is filled with artifacts crafted by generations of Emberhearts, each one a testament to our mastery over fire. There's power here, refinement, and tools that could enhance your magic or even add a unique edge to your abilities. And yet, you choose this…" She gestured to the modest bracelet with a look of near-incredulity. "This one artifact that barely scratches the surface of what's available!"

Astron listened, his expression remaining steady as she laid out her reasoning. When she finally finished, he gave her a slow, thoughtful nod. "I understand," he said, his tone calm but with a glint of amusement still dancing in his eyes. "But, do you think I am a fool Irina?"

Astron leaned in, his face coming closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down Irina's spine. "Do you think I'm a fool, Irina?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, his scent unexpectedly close. "Haven't I lost every time I made a quick judgment?"

For a split second, her mind went blank, caught off guard by his sudden proximity. She felt her thoughts blur as her senses took in the warmth of his presence, his voice reverberating in a way that made her heart skip. But then, with a flash of clarity, she remembered Esme standing nearby, watching the exchange with silent amusement.

'No way am I letting him get away with this,'

she thought, regaining her composure. She gave him a firm shove, pushing him back just enough to regain some distance, though the heat she felt rising to her ears betrayed her flustered state.

With a glare that held both irritation and a hint of something she refused to acknowledge, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Just… keep your distance," she muttered, glancing away to conceal the faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

"So?"

Astron's face remained calm, but Irina caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, an almost smile threatening to break through his usually serious expression. He was trying to mask it, yet she could see it—a small victory for him, and somehow, it made her both irritated and amused.

She scoffed, giving him a light but pointed smack on the chest. "What do you mean, 'So'? What?"

He raised an eyebrow, his tone smooth. "So… what do you think? Do you think I'm a fool?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, half-exasperated, half-relenting. "Of course, you're not a fool, Astron. Don't act like I'd actually think that."

"Good," he replied, the almost-smile finally breaking through. His face relaxed, that slight smirk now fully visible, and she couldn't decide if she wanted to hit him again or laugh. "Then, shouldn't you trust my judgment?"

"..."

Irina's lips pressed into a thin line as his words sank in. Despite her irritation, she couldn't ignore the truth of his statement. 'Trust his judgment…' she thought, recalling that time they'd studied together with Sylvie. She remembered the moment Astron had pinpointed the location of the Phantom's Land, effortlessly spotting clues that had slipped past both her and Sylvie. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, seemed to catch details others missed, always seeing further than anyone expected.

'If he's chosen this bracelet, it can't just be for its agility boost,'

she reasoned, feeling her frustration ease, replaced by grudging admiration. Astron wouldn't have made a choice based on something so trivial. There had to be something about the bracelet he'd noticed—something she hadn't.

She studied him, her gaze softening. "Fine," she relented, a bit of her irritation fading. "I guess… I'll trust your judgment. But I'm curious—what did you see in that bracelet that I missed?"

"You will see."

In the end, she didn't get the answer.