Chapter 696 - Beginning of the Beyond Event

POV Weslin

After the deadline to join the Beyond Event passes, I find myself surrounded by about five hundred people. It feels like a surprisingly large number, considering our guild has only about fifty members here, and I would estimate even fewer came from Eternal Court. The rest must be either those who allowed themselves to be hired by Eternal Court or those with some sort of connection to the Ancient Armory.

The highest rank present being A-rank means the guild master of Eternal Court is likely here, even though I have not seen a trace of him so far.

With only our fifty members, we should probably be a possible target if the others decide to gather their forces, yet I do not think it will happen. Everyone knows Primordial Knights. You just don’t attack a bunch of demons unless you’re ready to bleed for it. I just hope the ones from our guild do not attack first. Up to this point, they have followed my orders, since I am the highest ranked member here, meaning likely the strongest.

Maybe this event will even bring me closer to the S-ranks now that I think about it. Not long ago, I thought that goal was nearly impossible, something others exaggerated, but ever since I met that maniac, that asshole, that little shit, that annoying arrogant jerk, that motherf... ehm, I have found it impossible not to push forward.

Even if he did not realize it, he pushed me to strive harder, and by now, I am certain no one else in the tutorial is as skilled with Primordial Void as I am.

“Weslin, we should attack them first. I bet we could take down a good chunk before they realize what is happening,” one of the demons at my side says.

The one next to him nods seriously. “Morwag would attack them.”

“Don’t even bring up what Morwag would do,” I snap back to cut off that line of thinking right at its roots.

“So you want to wait for now?” the demon asks as if it is something weird to do.

“For now. We didn’t come here to fight them, but if they show signs of attacking, don’t hold yourself back.” I tell him.

“Calling me a fucking demon is a clear sign of attack, right?”

I look straight at him, and he stares back. “It fucking isn’t.”

“Oh,” he mutters sadly.

“Weslin, you haven’t been on the fourth floor for quite a while. What gives you the right to order us? Have you grown weaker, maybe?” the woman, Yela, asks.

The worst part is that she is not even a demon. She is a velnar, but that does not matter in the slightest with her. She behaves exactly like the demons do, and the respect they show her confirms it.

This is why I hate dealing with these things. It is always the same. It is not just difficult, but it is tedious, and it makes me feel dirty. That rawness in demons is something I share to a degree, and I hate it.

I am about to step toward her to deal with it when I feel a notification from the mark Nathaniel placed on me. Within the next two seconds, he appears by my side. The shocking smile I saw on his face when he first met that woman is gone, replaced by his usual resting bitch face.

“Weslin, I have to introduce you to a few people, and damn, I already noticed some fun, annoying people here. Io is here. If you see that fuck, tell me, I have to kill him. If you see a demon called Malika, tell me too, I’ll need to hide, and…”

He pauses, and before he can continue, Yela steps closer, interrupting us, standing above us, and trying to push further with her attempt to take leadership. There are probably two or three other demons who want the same and who are stronger than she is, but they respect her enough to let her try first since she went ahead with it first.

Nathaniel glances up at her. “The fuck you want?”

His words are ice cold, and he instantly catches her intent. Unlike me, he does not seem to care. He told me this many times, but he finds demons somewhat cute because of this kind of behavior, and it likely extends to this velnar, who acts like one. So he does not mind playing their constant game of who is strongest.

The beat of his hearts grows audible as thermal energy dances across his skin. The same golden colored flames appear around the velnar facing him.

“I said that maybe Weslin doesn’t deserve to be the leader after such a long time stuck on the third floor,” Yela says with a provoking smile. She must have heard a lot about Nathaniel, and now she’s excited to test herself against him.

Nathaniel tilts his head in confusion. “But Weslin is much stronger than you. I’d have a harder time with him than with you.”

As he says that, the thermal flames surrounding Yela vanish.

Her expression widens more and more as she generates new flames, but they disappear just the same.

Yela is known as one of the more powerful A-ranks in the Primordial Guild, with one of the highest capacities for generating thermal energy. Her flames are known for their intensity, able to scorch even reinforced magical barriers. Yet now she cannot even handle the human in front of her. He takes it all away from her while channeling it with incredible ease.

That part of him sometimes worries me. I know how much he sacrificed and how far he pushed himself to be able to do this, and I do not think he plans to stop here at all.

“Weslin,” Nathaniel whispers, though loud enough for everyone around us to hear, “you told me about that velnar who can generate a lot of thermal energy. Just to be sure, this is her?”

Yela’s face tightens at his words.

“That’s Yela,” I confirm.

“Well, that’s awkward. Maybe she got weaker since the last time you saw her and stuff, right?” He takes a step toward her even though she towers over him.

Yela flinches, even if only slightly. She tries to hide it by pushing more flames into existence, golden arcs surging around her arms and shoulders, but they blink out again the moment they form. Her jaw clenches, and I can see her pride grinding under the pressure of what Nathaniel is doing to her.

She tries again. And again. Every time, the blaze is stripped from her body until nothing remains.

That effort shows. Sweat beads on her brow, and her breathing turns ragged. Each attempt is weaker than the last, and by the time the fifth wave of fire collapses into nothing, she is just standing there. Chest heaving, shoulders trembling from the exertion.

He looks at her, and she holds his eyes for a moment before groaning in disappointment and turning away.

"Anyway," Nathaniel says, turning back to me. "I'll introduce you to my sister. But if you try to hit on her, I'll be angry."

He gestures for me to follow, already heading off. Before leaving, I stop by Yela. “Please make sure the others don’t fight without a reason for now. Good reason,” I tell her.

She nods after a moment, and I leave.

Watching Nathaniel’s back, I follow as he weaves through the crowd, his constant senses spreading out into the area to search for danger. In some ways, he is one of the most paranoid people I know. And now, that little jerk seems to be in a really good mood. I can see it in the way he behaves and talks. It is almost like seeing a huge smile on someone else’s face.

He sometimes acts like this, especially after defeating a tough monster, leveling up a difficult to level skill, or making some other big progress. Right now, it is likely because of his sister. He knows a lot about me, since I told him, but I also know plenty about him. I’ve always wondered what Victoria is truly like in person, since his descriptions of her never seem reliable.

When we stop near a group of about ten people, I see her again.

She is truly similar to Nathaniel. The near identical expression, the same shade of hair, even the similar eyes. The big difference is that she looks much colder. While Nathaniel seems like someone who suppresses his emotions, she seems like someone who has none at all.

From the bits I’ve heard about his childhood from Nathaniel, I can guess at the truth. She was always this way, and it was young Nathaniel who imitated her. It was his way of coping with his childhood, finding the strongest person he knew and copying her to the point he nearly became like her.

Nathaniel introduces us properly this time, and as I shake her hand, she studies me with a calm, intent gaze. She remains polite yet distant. Sharp, cold, fair, but capable of extreme cruelty. That is what comes to my mind when looking at her.

“And this is Christoph. He is also from Earth’s tutorial,” Nathaniel says. I think he wants to add something else, but he holds it back for now.

“Just Chris is fine,” the man says as he shakes my hand.

After letting go of his hand, I almost want to dismiss him, to push him into the background as someone unimportant, but then I stop myself. Why would I do that? I usually don’t treat new people that way.

Forcing my void to circulate through my body, I fix my attention back on the man. He is well taken care of, but at the same time unassuming. He does not look threatening or dangerous, only collected and calm as he watches Nathaniel talk with his sister.

Every so often, a gentle smile crosses his face as he watches the siblings, as if touched by something almost nostalgic. At the same time, he keeps scanning the surroundings for danger.

Then I focus deeper, observing the movements of mana around his body, and I find myself more confused than ever. They seem intricate, yet unassuming, normal, and so extraordinary, all at once. I cannot even grasp what he is doing, nor can I sense any primordial energy from him or even any fragment. It all seems to be pure mana.

Part of me wants to look closer and take in more, but I hold back, aware that it could be seen as rude, even as a provocation. Just in case, I run multiple deep checks to see if my mind is being affected. I carefully examine myself for any signs of manipulation, pressure, or subtle influence, and I go through each possibility thoroughly to make sure I am in control. And I find nothing.

Then his eyes turn toward me. Gray and firm, they clearly show that he knows exactly what I have been doing, yet he does not mind. He even smiles with amusement and mouths something I cannot translate. Then he joins the conversation between the siblings.

As he speaks, the flow of mana around him shifts into something entirely different. I sense that it moves like a living thing, too intricate for me to comprehend. The change sends shivers down my spine, unlike anything I have felt from any other attendee, except perhaps Nyssa and Lyraen.

It should feel overwhelming, yet it does not. It is quiet, restrained, as if he is showing only the smallest fragment of what he can do. And that is what unsettles me most.

Just what kind of freaks is Earth spitting out of its tutorial?

***

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