Chapter 836 - Path
Lilia inhaled deeply, forcing her emotions down, letting the frustration settle into something sharper. Anger wouldn't help her now. No, she needed to focus.
Adrian was still pressing forward, his speed giving him the undeniable edge. The momentary interference had set her back, forcing her onto the defensive once again, while he advanced with the confidence of someone who believed he had already won.
Twack!
Another arrow shot toward her, fast and merciless. Lilia barely twisted out of the way, feeling the rush of mana as it passed just inches from her waist.
She moved, using the shifting barriers to her advantage—but Adrian was relentless.
He's not giving me space to recover.
He closed the distance between them, keeping her pinned, firing with relentless precision. His arrows carried weight—not just in power, but in strategy. He wasn't just shooting wildly. He was boxing her in, limiting her options.
She loosed an arrow, a quick retaliatory strike aimed not to hit, but to disrupt his positioning.
Adrian dodged with ease, his speed making him seem almost untouchable. And then—he struck again.
Thud!
An arrow buried itself into the barrier beside her, but it wasn't just any arrow.
Mana pulsed from it, expanding outward in a controlled burst.
Lilia's eyes widened. That's—!
The impact caused the barrier to collapse entirely, forcing her into the open.
She barely had time to react before another arrow was already flying toward her.
Lilia twisted her body, a hair's breadth from being struck, but Adrian was already preparing the next shot.
This was his domain now.
She wasn't just fighting him—she was fighting a battle of attrition.
His stamina, his speed, his raw physical advantages—they all added up.
He could keep this up.
Could she?
Her breaths came a little faster now, her body straining to keep up with his relentless onslaught.
Adrian smirked. "What's wrong, Lilia?" he called out, his voice laced with arrogance. "Getting tired?"
Lilia's breath steadied as she fully embraced the situation. She could no longer afford to fight Adrian on his terms. His speed, his stamina, his brute force—none of those were factors she could overpower. But control? That was something else entirely.
Her fingers tightened around the bowstring, mana pooling into the tip of her arrow. This wasn't like her earlier feints. This time, she was committing. She had to—because if she didn't, this fight would end in his favor.
Adrian was already closing in, his stance unwavering as he fired another shot. Lilia twisted to the side, barely avoiding the arrow as it embedded itself in the ground with a faint hum of residual energy. He was reading her reactions now, narrowing her escape routes one by one. The suffocating pressure of his assault was reaching its peak, and he knew it.
"Still holding on?" His voice was as smug as ever, but there was no arrogance in his movements. He was precise, methodical. He had no intention of making a mistake now—not when he had the upper hand.
Lilia didn't answer. Instead, she moved again, weaving between the remaining barriers. The shifting field made it difficult to rely on cover, but she wasn't using them for protection anymore. She was using them to create angles.
Her crimson eyes flickered toward the farthest barrier, measuring the distance, the openings, the flow of Adrian's attacks. He was fast, but even speed had its limitations. He still had to aim, still had to account for timing. If she could disrupt his rhythm even slightly, she could create the opening she needed.
Another arrow came—this one sharper, faster, laced with mana that crackled in the air. Lilia bent low, the wind of its passage brushing against her cheek as she slid into position. In the same motion, she raised her bow and loosed a shot of her own—not at Adrian, but at one of the moving barriers behind him.
The moment the arrow struck, the structure wobbled, shifting just enough to throw off his line of sight.
Lilia moved.
She sprinted, drawing another arrow, the glow at its tip intensifying as her mana control wove into the very core of the projectile. Piercing Bloom wasn't just a shot—it was an extension of herself, a technique designed to bend the very rules of conventional archery.
But before she could release it, the cover in front of her suddenly vanished.
Her instincts screamed at her, but it was already too late. The interference struck precisely at the moment she had committed to her attack, and Adrian was already in motion.
His arrow came like a killing blow.
She had no choice but to abandon her shot, throwing herself to the side just as the projectile slammed into the ground where she had been standing. Dust kicked up from the impact, a reminder of how close she had come to losing right then and there.
'Selene.'
The realization cut deeper than she expected. That timing—it wasn't natural. The barriers had been unpredictable before, but now? Now they were too precise. The instant she gained momentum, they collapsed. The moment Adrian needed an opening, he got it.
And as if to make it seem fair, the same thing happened to him a moment later.
One of his barriers flickered and dropped just as he prepared to reposition. Lilia saw his muscles tense, the slight falter in his movement. He had noticed it too.
But unlike her, it barely affected his standing.
He still had his shot.
She, on the other hand, had to keep moving, had to stay defensive. There was no opening for her, no moment where she could afford to return fire.
Lilia exhaled sharply, pushing herself toward another position as the weight of the manipulation pressed down on her. She wasn't just fighting Adrian—she was fighting Selene's game.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to see the woman standing at the sidelines.
Selene's expression was calm, her gaze unreadable. But there was a faint curve at the edge of her lips, a knowing satisfaction that made Lilia's blood run hot.
Her fingers curled into a fist before she forced them to relax. She had to be better than this. Letting anger dictate her next move would only feed into Selene's expectations.
Fine.
If they thought they could control her, then she would show them just how wrong they were.
Lilia darted forward, drawing another arrow. If she couldn't find an opening, then she would create one.
Lilia's movements became sharper, her mind cutting through the interference, the rigged battlefield, and the oppressive force of Selene's control. If she couldn't play by their rules, then she would play by hers.
Her fingers tightened around her bow as she channeled mana into her next arrow—not in the conventional way, not in a way that Adrian or even Selene would expect. She had been working on something, refining a technique that had yet to see battle. If Selene thought she had accounted for everything, then she was about to receive a rude awakening.
Lilia's breath steadied as she poured mana into her arrow, not just enhancing its power but weaving it into something far more intricate.
'This is still not complete but, let's test it.'
It was not like she would lose anything anyway.
This wasn't just about force or speed—it was about control.
[Phase Disruption]
The moment the name of her technique solidified in her mind, the mana surrounding her arrow shifted.
Instead of simply coating the projectile, the mana field around it expanded, distorting the air in a way that made the arrow appear slightly displaced—a ripple, a mirage within space itself. It wasn't just an illusion. The technique manipulated mana refraction and electromagnetic displacement, bending the very medium that governed magical energy.
Lilia understood the theory behind it well. Just as light bent when it passed through different densities of air or glass, mana did the same when subjected to rapid fluctuations in field strength. The key was controlled instability—forcing mana into an oscillating state so that, when fired, the arrow would shift through the battlefield unpredictably.
No more linear trajectories. No more predictable shots.
Adrian couldn't block what he couldn't track.
The moment she released the arrow, it didn't just fly forward—it vanished from normal sight for a fraction of a second. The light bent around it, the mana interference from the field barely registering it as a solid object. It was as if space itself had fragmented around her attack.
Adrian's reaction was immediate. His instincts were good, trained to dodge at the first sign of movement—but that was the problem. There was no clear movement.
His body twisted to the side, but he had no idea where the arrow actually was.
For the first time since the match started, he looked uncertain.
And Lilia pressed forward.
She wasn't just attacking—she was dismantling the very foundation of the fight.
Her movements accelerated, her presence like a shifting shadow in the battlefield as she loosed another arrow, then another, each one vanishing before reappearing inches away from its actual trajectory.
The audience gasped.
Selene's expression didn't change, but Lilia saw the smallest shift in her stance—the faintest tension in her fingers.
She had not predicted this.
Good.
Adrian struggled to adapt, his advantage in raw speed meaning nothing when he couldn't react in time. His arrows fired blindly now, his rhythm breaking as he attempted to track shots that didn't exist where they should have.
Then came the opening.
A brief, precious moment where Adrian faltered, where his footwork stuttered.
Lilia's crimson eyes gleamed.
Now.
She drew her final arrow, mana surging to its peak, the battlefield bending around her strike.
Victory was within reach.
But then—
The platform beneath her flickered.
Her stance wavered.
The very ground she had stabilized herself on collapsed.
Not a barrier. Not a piece of cover.
The battlefield itself.
And just like that, the shot that should have been her victory—
Missed.
Adrian recovered in an instant, his arrow already loosed before she could regain her footing.
Lilia twisted, tried to escape, but there was no time.
His shot struck clean.
The mana barrier flared upon impact, signaling the end.
The match was over.
Silence fell over the field.
The crowd barely processed what had happened before erupting into murmurs, shock and awe mingling in their voices. Some gasped at Lilia's near-victory, others at the impossible shift in the battlefield at the last second.
And standing at the edge of it all, her hands perfectly still, her expression calm and composed—
Selene smiled.
Lilia's fingers trembled around her bowstring, her breath steady but slow, controlled. The loss didn't sting because Adrian had won.
It stung because she had been robbed.
Because even when she had broken through Selene's predictions, her sister had still rigged the outcome in the end.
And that—
That was something she would not forget.
Chapter 837 - Path (2)
Lilia exhaled slowly, forcing her grip on the bow to relax. Her fingers trembled slightly, a lingering remnant of the mana she had poured into her final shot—a shot that should have secured her victory. But instead, it had missed. Not because of a miscalculation. Not because Adrian had outmaneuvered her. But because of something—or rather, someone—far beyond her control.
Selene.
Even now, standing there with that perfectly composed smile, Lilia could see it—the satisfaction hidden behind the mask of gracious amusement. She planned for this. She made sure, no matter what happened, I wouldn't win.
A hand clapped against her shoulder, light but firm. "You fought well," Adrian said, his voice smooth and just a touch too self-satisfied. "But I guess your talent was up to this point, huh?"
Lilia's breath stilled, her fingers curling at her sides. A deep, burning urge swelled inside her—an impulse to turn and strike him, to wipe that smug expression off his face with a single punch. It would feel so satisfying.
But it would also be exactly what they wanted.
She clenched her jaw, inhaling sharply before stepping away from him, shaking his hand off like it was nothing more than dust on her sleeve. "Next time, you won't be so lucky," she said coolly, her voice unwavering despite the storm beneath her skin.
Adrian chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "Luck?" he mused. "Is that what you're calling it?" His eyes gleamed with amusement, but Lilia could see it—that same faint edge he had carried throughout the match. He knew. He knew that she had nearly won, that it had taken more than just his skill to secure his victory.
But he would never admit it.
Lilia didn't bother responding. There was nothing more to say. With controlled, measured steps, she turned and walked off the platform, her back straight, her chin held high. The murmurs of the cadets swirled around her—some murmuring admiration for how close the match had been, others whispering about the sudden shift in the battlefield.
None of it mattered.
The weight in her chest tightened as she moved past the gathered crowd, her body feeling strangely heavy. It wasn't just physical exhaustion, though her muscles ached from the relentless pace of the match. No, this was something else—something deeper.
'What is this feeling?'
Her footsteps carried her farther from the main platform, out of the direct spotlight of the event. The air felt slightly cooler here, less suffocating than the charged atmosphere of the gathering. And yet, despite putting distance between herself and them, the feeling remained.
She clenched her fists. Frustration? That was obvious. She should feel frustrated. Angry, even. But there was something else, something unfamiliar gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.
Disappointment?
The thought unsettled her.
Not at Adrian. Not at Selene. But at herself.
She had known. Deep down, she had known what she was stepping into. And yet, she had walked right into their game. She had let herself believe, if only for a moment, that she could play by their rules and still win.
'How foolish.'
The realization sat heavy in her chest, but she didn't let it show. Not now. Not when she knew eyes were still on her.
She reached a quieter part of the grounds, exhaling softly. Her heartbeat had slowed, but that weight remained.
The cool night air did little to soothe the fire burning beneath Lilia's skin. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her breath measured but tense. She had expected the loss to sting, but this? This hollow weight settling in her chest—it wasn't just frustration. It was something more bitter.Then, just as she was trying to center herself, she heard the one voice she didn't want to deal with right now.
"Sister."
The word was laced with amusement, smooth and deliberate.
Lilia's body tensed as she turned, her crimson eyes narrowing as Selene approached with her usual composed grace. The faint sound of clapping filled the air as Selene brought her hands together in slow, measured applause.
"You really fought well," she said, her voice as sweet as honey but carrying that unmistakable edge of mockery.
Lilia clenched her jaw, her expression neutral but her mind already working through the layers of meaning behind Selene's words. She knew her sister far too well. There were no real compliments between them—only carefully veiled barbs, traps hidden in silk.
Selene came to a stop just a few paces from her, tilting her head slightly as if studying Lilia. Her brown eyes gleamed with something unreadable, a quiet satisfaction woven into her features.
"I must say," she continued, placing a hand delicately on her hip, "for a moment, I truly thought you had it. The way you moved, the way you handled your mana—it was quite impressive."
Lilia said nothing, letting Selene speak, waiting for the inevitable turn in the conversation.
Selene's smile widened, her voice dipping into something softer, something almost conspiratorial. "But in the end… well." She let out a light, almost pitying sigh, her fingers brushing a stray lock of emerald hair behind her ear. "I suppose there are just some things that can't be overcome, aren't there?"
There it was.
Lilia's fingers curled slightly, but she forced herself to exhale, keeping her expression level. Don't react. Don't give her that satisfaction.
Instead, she let out a small, humorless chuckle. "You're right," she said smoothly. "Like the part where you manipulated the battlefield."
Selene blinked, then let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Manipulated? My dear Lilia, the barriers were shifting randomly from the start. I had nothing to do with it." Her voice was the picture of innocence, but the glint in her eyes told a different story.
Lilia tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "Oh? Is that so? How strange that the timing always worked in Adrian's favor, then. What impeccable luck."
Selene sighed, as if truly lamenting the accusation. "Luck is a fickle thing, isn't it? Sometimes, it's with us. Sometimes, it's against us. But surely, you wouldn't suggest that your loss was solely due to something so trivial? That would be rather… unbecoming."
Lilia's lips twitched. "Of course not." She met Selene's gaze evenly, her voice cool and unwavering. "But let's not pretend, Selene. You and I both know what happened tonight."
Selene's eyes gleamed, her smile never faltering. "Do we?"
They stood there, locked in silent battle, neither willing to look away. The air between them crackled, the weight of years of rivalry pressing down on both of them.
Then, Selene's gaze flickered downward for just a moment, and when she looked back up, her smile had shifted—just slightly. There was something sharper now, something more… amused.
"You seem tired, Lilia," she murmured. "You should get some rest. Losing takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?"
Lilia inhaled slowly, forcing herself to remain composed. "You'd know."
Selene let out another soft laugh, stepping back slightly. "Oh, little sister," she mused. "You make this so entertaining."
She turned smoothly, her hair catching the dim light as she walked away, leaving Lilia standing there, her fists clenched at her sides.
Lilia exhaled sharply through her nose. The exhaustion she had been holding at bay finally caught up with her, settling in her bones.
Selene's words echoed in her mind, blending with the bitter weight of disappointment.
Not in Selene.
Not in Adrian.
But in herself.
She had walked into this knowing the risks, knowing what they were capable of. And still, she had let herself get caught in their game.
Then she walked briskly, her mind still storming with the aftermath of the match, Selene's words echoing faintly in her head. The frustration gnawed at her, mingling with the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her limbs. She needed to be alone. She needed space to think.
But then—
"Leaving without me?"
The voice was cool, detached, yet somehow familiar. Lilia stopped mid-step, her breath steadying as her crimson eyes flicked to the side.
There, leaning casually against one of the trees near the edge of the training grounds, stood Astron. His arms were crossed, his dark purple eyes watching her with his usual unreadable expression. He looked completely at ease, as if the tension of the night had never touched him.
Lilia blinked. Had he been there this whole time?
She hadn't noticed him—not once. And for someone as naturally aware of her surroundings as she was, that realization irked her. I must be slipping.
Still, for reasons she didn't fully understand, she felt a small, almost reluctant sense of relief that he was still here.
She raised an eyebrow at him, tilting her head slightly. "I thought you left after the match." Her voice was even, betraying none of the turmoil still simmering inside her.
Astron shrugged. "Didn't feel like dealing with the crowd." He pushed off the tree, his posture relaxed as he stepped toward her. "Figured you'd do the same."
Lilia exhaled softly, shaking her head. "Not quite. I had… unfinished business."
Astron's gaze flickered slightly, as if he already knew exactly what—or who—that 'unfinished business' had been. He didn't press, though, instead eyeing her with a faint trace of curiosity. "So? How do you feel?"
Chapter 838 - Path (3)
Lilia paused at his question, her crimson eyes locking onto his. Astron's expression remained unreadable, his voice as cool and detached as ever, but there was something beneath the surface—something subtle. His dark purple eyes, distant yet sharp, held a glint of curiosity, faint but present.
It made sense. Astron was observant, more so than most people gave him credit for. He must have noticed how she had carried herself throughout the night, how she had played the game differently than usual. And now, he was curious.
Lilia exhaled, tilting her head slightly. "You really do like watching people, don't you?" she mused, her voice quieter now, less guarded.
Astron didn't blink. "Observing," he corrected. "People are predictable if you pay attention."
A small smirk tugged at Lilia's lips. "And what? You think I wasn't acting like myself?"
Astron studied her for a moment before replying. "I think you were acting like someone who wanted to win."
Lilia stilled. It wasn't an incorrect statement, but coming from Astron, it felt oddly precise.
Wanted to win? She turned the words over in her mind. Did she really want to win, or did she just refuse to lose?
She let out a quiet sigh, glancing away toward the dimly lit training grounds in the distance. "I feel…" She hesitated, as if the answer itself was caught somewhere between her thoughts and her pride.
She considered lying—saying something light, something dismissive. But Astron wasn't the type to accept shallow answers. He'd only see through it.
So instead, she answered honestly.
"Frustrated. Tired." Her voice was steady, but she didn't hide the weight behind her words. "But more than that… disappointed."
Astron didn't react immediately, but she saw it—the way his gaze flickered slightly, as if processing her words with more care than expected.
"Disappointed in what?" he asked.
Lilia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Myself, mostly."
Astron raised an eyebrow slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
She turned back to him, her crimson eyes sharper now, not with anger, but with a more introspective intensity. "I knew what I was walking into. I knew how Selene and Adrian operate. And yet, I still let myself play their game."
She exhaled, her hands tightening slightly at her sides. "That was my mistake."
Astron was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "It was."
Lilia blinked, half expecting him to say something else. When he didn't, she let out a short laugh. "You're terrible at comforting people, you know that?"
"I'm not trying to comfort you."
"Yeah, I figured."
For a moment, there was only quiet between them. A strange, comfortable kind of quiet. Lilia had expected more from him—some comment, some analysis—but Astron just stood there, watching her, waiting.
And oddly enough, that was enough.
Lilia exhaled softly, the night air cool against her skin, her mind still running through the match, through Selene's schemes, through every move and counter-move that had played out tonight. And yet, just as she thought the conversation was winding down, Astron suddenly spoke.
"I sometimes wonder… why do you care about all this?"
Lilia blinked, her gaze snapping to him. His voice was the same as always—calm, measured—but there was something different about it this time. A faint curiosity that wasn't just about observation. He was actually asking.
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Care about what?"
Astron tilted his head slightly, his dark purple eyes cool and steady. "The guild. Olympus Vanguard. The succession battle. Why do you care so much about winning?"
Lilia's steps slowed for a moment. The question wasn't difficult, not on the surface. It was something she had been answering her entire life—to others, to herself. And yet, hearing it from Astron, spoken so plainly, so detached, made her pause in a way she hadn't expected.
Why did she care?
Her lips parted slightly, then pressed into a thin line. "That's an easy answer," she said finally, her voice smooth despite the momentary hesitation. "Because I want to be the one leading it. I want to be the one in power."
She glanced at him, gauging his reaction, but Astron remained as impassive as ever, merely listening.
Lilia continued, her voice growing sharper, more certain as she spoke. "The Olympus Vanguard isn't just a guild, Astron. It's one of the most powerful organizations in the world. Whoever controls it doesn't just lead a group of Awakened—they dictate alliances, control resources, influence entire nations." She exhaled, crossing her arms as her eyes flickered with determination. "That kind of power doesn't come easily. And if it's going to fall into anyone's hands, it should be mine."
Astron nodded slightly but didn't respond immediately. His silence stretched just long enough for her to feel the weight of her own words.
Lilia narrowed her eyes. "What?"
Astron shrugged lightly, his gaze unwavering. "It makes sense," he said. "You're ambitious. You want power. But is that really all?"
Lilia frowned slightly, his words catching her off guard. "What are you implying?"
Astron's expression didn't change, but there was a slight shift in his posture—something more calculating, more interested. "Ambition, control, leadership. Those are things you want. But why? Is it really just about power, or is it about something else?"
Lilia felt a flicker of irritation, though she wasn't sure if it was directed at him or at the fact that he was making her think about this in ways she hadn't before. "What else would it be?" she countered.
Astron studied her for a long moment before he spoke again. "Proving yourself," he said simply.
Lilia's breath hitched slightly, though her face remained composed.
Astron continued, his voice still calm, still unreadable. "To your family. To your father. To Selene." He tilted his head slightly. "And maybe even to yourself."
Lilia felt something tighten in her chest, an uncomfortable pressure she wasn't used to.
"I don't need to prove myself to anyone," she said automatically, her voice sharper than she intended.
Astron didn't flinch, didn't react, just kept looking at her with those damnable, unreadable eyes. "Don't you?"
Lilia stopped walking. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides as she inhaled deeply, forcing her composure to remain intact.
This is ridiculous. She knew why she fought. She knew why she wanted to win. It wasn't about proving anything. It was about control. It was about being the one in power. It was about securing her place so that no one—not Selene, not her father, not anyone—could dictate what she could or couldn't do.
But then… why did it feel like Astron had struck something deeper?
Her crimson eyes met his again, and for once, she wasn't entirely sure what expression she was wearing.
"What's your point?" she asked quietly.
Astron exhaled softly, his gaze still steady. "I just think it's interesting."
Lilia let out a short, humorless chuckle. "You think I'm interesting?"
Astron studied her for a moment longer before speaking again, his voice as detached as ever. "Indeed. You are an interesting subject."
His dark purple eyes turned slightly colder, a glint of something analytical crossing them as he continued. "You say you want to win the succession battle, but you also don't want to dirty your hands."
Lilia's expression stiffened slightly, but she said nothing, allowing him to continue.
"Take Adrian or Selene, for example. People like them—they play to win, no matter what it takes. They manipulate, they deceive, they set the board in their favor before the game even begins. Yet when you face those types of tactics, your response is always the same."
His voice shifted slightly, not in mockery, but in eerie accuracy, as though recalling the very words she had spoken before.
"'I'd rather win with my own talent than resort to underhanded tactics.'"
Lilia's fingers twitched.
"'I can win even without those methods. I am better than them.'"
She inhaled slowly. She did say things like that. Often.
And deep down, she believed them.
Astron observed her carefully, then added, "That's the way you approach things."
Lilia's lips pressed into a thin line. "And? You say that like it's a flaw."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "Not necessarily." Then his voice lowered, just slightly, his next words sharper. "But it's not entirely true either."
Lilia's crimson eyes narrowed. Something in the way he spoke made her pause.
"What?" she asked, her voice cool but laced with something more dangerous. "What do you mean by that?"
Astron met her gaze evenly. "I mean, that's the way you want to approach things."
He took a small step forward, not threatening, but deliberate. "Or at least, you make it seem like that's how you approach things."
Lilia's breath caught slightly, but she didn't react outwardly. She had faced countless people who tried to analyze her, break her down, tell her what kind of person she was. But something about the way Astron spoke—calm, detached, yet precise—unsettled her.
"Explain." Her voice came out sharper than she intended.
Astron's gaze didn't waver. "In reality, you just don't want to do things like that inherently." His words were smooth, cutting, yet delivered without an ounce of malice. "You don't have the necessary drive."
Chapter 839 - Path (4)
"You don't have the necessary drive."
The moment the words left his mouth, something inside Lilia snapped.
Her body tensed, her fingers curling into fists. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice lower, colder.
Astron didn't blink. "It means you hesitate."
Lilia's glare sharpened, but he continued before she could interrupt. "You hesitate when it comes to doing things the way Adrian or Selene would. You hesitate when it comes to manipulation, when it comes to using everything at your disposal. You hesitate because, deep down, you don't want to be like them."
His tone remained infuriatingly steady. "And that's why you lost."
Lilia took a step forward before she even realized it, her crimson eyes burning with barely restrained anger.
"Are you saying I lost because I didn't cheat?"
Astron met her burning gaze without flinching, his dark purple eyes steady and unyielding.
"Cheating is when you go against the rules." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "But we both know that when it comes to politics, the rules are often written by those who win."
He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "There is no cheating. There is only what is allowed and what is enforced. And that—" his voice dipped, quieter but sharper, "is your fundamental flaw."
Lilia scoffed, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Cheating is cheating. If those in power can't uphold a certain standard, then what is to become of this world?"
Astron nodded slightly, acknowledging her words. "That's a valid point."
Then he exhaled, looking at her with something that wasn't quite condescension, but wasn't far from it either.
"But that is the duality of this world." His voice remained level, but there was something colder underneath it, something that suggested he had long since accepted this truth. "Those things that should be done are often harder…"
His gaze flickered, his next words cutting through the night air like a blade.
"…and those things that must be done are often crueler."
Silence.
Lilia's breath hitched slightly.
Her fingers twitched at her sides. She hated that—for just a second—those words struck something deep inside her.
Astron continued, his tone never wavering. "You're not wrong for wanting standards. For wanting a system that isn't ruled by deception." He took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "But if you think that alone will win you the Olympus Vanguard, then you're either naïve… or lying to yourself."
Lilia's jaw clenched.
Astron simply looked at her, waiting.
And for the first time in a long time, she had no immediate response.
Astron didn't break eye contact, his expression as unreadable as ever. "And we both know that you're smarter than that. You're not naive." His voice was even, devoid of condescension, but it carried a weight that pressed down on Lilia all the same. "Which means there's only one option left."
Lilia scoffed, crossing her arms. "Since when did you become a psychologist and a mind reader?"
Astron merely tilted his head, his dark purple eyes steady. "Truth is often laid bare for those who are talented enough to observe… and brave enough to look at it."
Lilia's lips twitched slightly. Does he even hear himself when he talks?
"You really sound narcissistic, you know that?" she muttered, shaking her head.
Astron's mouth moved—just slightly, barely enough to be called an expression. "Possibly."
Lilia exhaled, her crimson gaze sharp as she met his eyes once more. "And what makes you think you're better at seeing through me than I am myself?" Her voice carried a challenge, a flicker of irritation woven into her tone.
Astron simply shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "A sailor often cannot sew their own clothes."
Lilia blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the random yet oddly fitting analogy.
She let out a short chuckle, shaking her head. "You'd make a good debater."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "I'd rather not argue just to argue. Besides, I only state what is evident."
Lilia rolled her eyes but found herself exhaling in something that almost resembled amusement. "Of course you do."
For a moment, the weight of the night, the frustration, and the lingering sting of disappointment felt… lighter. It wasn't gone, but at least, with Astron standing there with his unreadable gaze and effortless words, it didn't feel suffocating.
Lilia's fleeting amusement faded as a different feeling settled in. Something more rigid, more unsettling. She didn't like this. She didn't like how it felt as though Astron knew more about her than she had ever let anyone know.
Ethan, Lucas, Irina, Julia, Carl—none of them. Even those closest to her didn't see this part of her. The part where doubt crept in, where the weight of expectations pressed down. The part of her that questioned, even if only for a second, whether she was moving forward in the right direction.
But somehow, Astron had peeled it apart—piece by piece—like he had always known it was there.
And that wasn't good.
She turned her gaze back to him, her crimson eyes sharp and filled with suspicion. "You think you know me, don't you?" she muttered, folding her arms tightly.
Astron met her glare without hesitation, his expression unreadable.
Lilia scoffed, shifting her weight slightly. "You say I don't have the drive, but do you even know how much effort I've put into this? Since I was a child, I've been working for this. I've trained, I've studied, I've recruited people—built a foundation from nothing. I've spent years carving out my own influence, making sure people respect me, follow me. I don't sit back and let things happen. I make things happen. Can you really say I don't have drive?"
Her words were sharp, almost defensive. But she meant them.
Astron listened, as he always did, letting her words settle before responding. And when he did, his voice was calm. Unshaken.
"But is that really what you want?"
Lilia's breath hitched slightly. Her fingers twitched at her sides.
"What can you even know about what I want?" she countered, her voice colder now.
Astron exhaled softly, his gaze never wavering. "Simple." He tilted his head slightly, his tone steady. "Why do you work this hard right now? Why push yourself to achieve such a high rank in the Academy, for instance?"
Lilia frowned, her arms tightening around herself. "Because it matters. It contributes to my prestige, my reliability. It proves my talent. Do you think the position of the guild leader will just be handed over to me? No. My accomplishments matter. My rank shows that I am capable."
Astron nodded slightly. "That makes sense."
But then he tilted his head slightly again, his next words cutting deeper.
"It may improve how others see you. But does it improve enough to cover for the opportunity cost?"
Lilia's expression flickered, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Astron continued. "Achieving that rank, maintaining it—it's not easy, is it? You spend hours training, refining your technique, ensuring you're ahead of everyone else."
He paused, then spoke again, slower this time.
"But do you need it?"
Lilia clenched her jaw. "Of course I do."
"Do you?" Astron's voice remained infuriatingly steady. "Or have you simply decided that you do?"
Lilia's breath was slow, controlled, but her irritation was growing.
Astron studied her reaction, then shrugged slightly. "You could be using that time differently. Recruiting more people. Expanding your network. Strengthening alliances. If your goal is true power, then raw skill shouldn't be your priority. Influence should be."
Lilia knew he wasn't wrong.
But she hated that he had said it.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, but she didn't respond immediately.
Astron continued. "So, I'll ask again. Are you sure this is what you want?"
Her crimson eyes burned into his, but he didn't waver. He didn't look down at her like Selene. He didn't mock her like Adrian. He just… stood there. Watching. Waiting.
And for some reason, that infuriated her even more.
Chapter 840 - Path (5)
The night was quiet as I walked through the academy grounds, the remnants of the party fading into silence behind me. The air was cool, crisp, carrying the faint scent of the trees lining the pathways. My steps were steady, unhurried, yet my mind was far from still.
Lilia.
I hadn't meant to analyze her this much, but it was inevitable.
She was one of the main cast. In the game, she had been Ethan's ally—a force in her own right, yet never fully in the spotlight. She was important, but not in the way party members were. She wasn't like Ethan, or Irina, or Julia.
She was something different.
An asset, not a constant.
And the reason for that was simple.
The developers hadn't designed her to be a frontline warrior, nor had they given her a role that would demand she be present in every battle. She wasn't a Hunter in the way Ethan was, in the way I was.
She was political.
A strong-willed businesswoman. A strategist. Someone who moved things from the outside.
And in that role, she thrived.
But not because she was great at it.
Because there was no one better.
That was the truth about Lilia. She wasn't incompetent—far from it. But she wasn't exceptional either. Not in management. Not in politics.
She was simply good enough to survive in that world.
Good enough to keep up.
Good enough to carve out her place.
But the thing about being "good enough" was that it wasn't secure.
It wasn't a guarantee.
Lilia wasn't a natural manipulator like Selene. She wasn't a natural leader like Ethan. She wasn't an indomitable force that demanded respect the moment she entered a room.
She worked for every inch of ground she gained.
And that?
That was her biggest flaw.
She still thought that working harder would be enough. That raw ability and determination could push her forward.
She was playing at politics with the mindset of a warrior.
And that was why she lost.
Not because she was weak.
Not because she wasn't smart.
But because she was playing the wrong game with the wrong approach.
I exhaled slowly, my steps carrying me further into the night.
If this were the game, I knew how it would go.
Lilia would continue down this path, facing struggle after struggle, slowly realizing that brute force wouldn't win her the Olympus Vanguard. She would learn, adapt, and eventually change her approach.
She would stop thinking like a fighter.
And start thinking like a ruler.
A ruler's mind.
That's what it took.
That's what Lilia needed.
But the ability to think like a ruler—it wasn't something that could be acquired simply by wanting it.
It wasn't something that could be earned through sheer effort alone.
It required talent.
And talent wasn't fair.
I stopped walking for a moment, glancing across the academy grounds. The lamplights flickered dimly, casting long shadows over the pathways. The distant hum of the city beyond the walls was barely audible, a reminder that the world kept moving even as this place remained frozen in its routines.
I knew how this world worked.
And I knew how Lilia worked.
Because I had seen it before.
In the game, there was an arc. A significant one.
The moment Lilia realized—too late—that she had chosen wrong.
Not that she was bad at being a guild leader. No, she was competent enough to survive, to push forward, to make her presence known. But competence was not the same as talent.
And the harshest truth?
Lilia was a Hunter.
She wasn't meant to be confined in meeting rooms, negotiating contracts, brokering deals like some politician desperate to cling to relevance.
She had talent. Skill.
A natural instinct that made her deadly with a bow.
A warrior's edge that made her dangerous when she fought.
And yet, she had put all of that aside.
Chasing an ideal. Chasing power. Chasing a throne that she thought would allow her to control her own fate.
But this world was past the point where politics alone could save anyone.
And in the game, she realized it.
Late.
Far too late.
The scene was burned into my memory—the moment she confessed it.
The moment she admitted, in a rare lapse of pride, that she regretted it all.
She had spent so much time maneuvering through the games of men, through the bureaucracy of power, that she had neglected the very thing that could have truly made a difference.
She had regretted not training harder.
Not honing her skill as a Hunter.
Not realizing that in the end, all the politics, all the backroom deals, all the alliances—they meant nothing when the true threats emerged.
Because when the world broke, when the monsters came, when the strongest of humanity had to stand and fight—
Politics didn't save people.
Power did.
I exhaled slowly.
That was her fate.
That was how her arc had played out.
But now?
Now, I was standing here.
And that meant the story had already begun to shift.
The only question was—
Would Lilia realize it this time?
Would she recognize the truth before it was too late?
Or would she once again waste her potential, chasing the illusion of control until the world forced her to understand?
I glanced at the empty sky, my expression unreadable.
The answer?
It wasn't up to me.
Not yet.
But at the same time, it was better for her to realize.
Better for her.
Better for the world.
There was no reason to lose talents like Lilia. No reason for her to waste herself in a losing game, pretending that the world still worked the way she wanted it to.
And more than that—
The things that would happen in the future…
They needed to change.
I resumed walking, my steps measured, my mind running through the possibilities. The game's plot was a tool, a guide—one that gave me insight into the grander picture. But that didn't mean it should be followed.
If anything, it shouldn't.
Because the setting of the game?
It was grim.
It wasn't a story about heroes winning a great victory. It wasn't a tale of righteousness triumphing over darkness.
It was survival.
It was sacrifice.
And it was about how much had to be lost before humanity could even have a chance at winning.
In the game, by the time Lilia realized the truth, she had already lost too much. Her allies, her resources, her position in Olympus Vanguard. Even her confidence.
She had been forced into a supporting role—not because she wasn't useful, but because by the time she was ready, the battle had already passed her by.
And that?
That was a waste.
Not just for her.
For everyone.
Lilia, at her core, was strong.
She had talent, skill, intelligence—everything that should have made her a true force in the world. But she had been misdirected, set on a path that had led to nowhere.
And if the game's plot continued as it had before, history would repeat itself.
Unless I changed it.
Unless I forced her to realize it sooner.
The thought settled in my mind like a cold certainty.
This wasn't just about Lilia's personal growth.
It was about preparing for what was coming.
Because when the worst began—when the real threats of this world emerged—
Politics wouldn't save anyone.
And if Lilia Thornheart wanted to stand at the top of Olympus Vanguard, if she truly wanted to be the leader she claimed to be—
Then she would have to understand.
Sooner, not later.
Because if she didn't?
She would be irrelevant in the battles to come.
And I would not let that happen.
"After all, everyone needs to have their own purpose, don't they?"
Chapter 841 - Path (6)
The night had long settled over the academy, but Lilia remained at the archery grounds, her presence solitary amidst the quiet. The crowd was gone, the remnants of the party fading into the distance. No distractions. No Adrian. No Selene.
Just her.
And the target.
Thwack!
An arrow shot forward, slicing through the air with practiced precision before embedding itself into the target's center.
Lilia lowered her bow, her breath steady but her mind restless.
Astron's words still lingered.
Are you sure this is what you want?
Her fingers tightened around the bowstring, irritation flickering in her chest. Of course, she was sure. She had to be.
Then why are you still thinking about it?
Her expression hardened as she nocked another arrow, raising her bow without hesitation.
She didn't need to entertain pointless doubts. She knew what she was doing.
She released.
Thwack!
The arrow struck the target again, just slightly off-center this time. Her grip tightened.
She drew another arrow.
This wasn't about proving anything. This wasn't about him.
It was about control. About regaining what had been stolen from her tonight.
The bowstring stretched taut as she took aim once more, her crimson eyes locked onto the target.
She inhaled.
She released.
Thwack!
Another hit. Another step closer to drowning out the thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone.
But the words remained.
The idea that—perhaps—she had been moving
The idea that—perhaps—she had been moving without thinking.
That maybe she was chasing something she had never actually chosen for herself.
Her breath came a little sharper, her heartbeat quickening as she fired another shot.
And another.
And another.
Each arrow flew, precise but growing wilder, her movements no longer as calculated. The thoughts she had tried to suppress came creeping back.
Was she really doing all of this because she wanted to?
Or was she just proving something?
Thwack!
Her final shot veered slightly off its mark, missing the bullseye by an inch.
Lilia lowered her bow slowly, staring at the target in front of her, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
She had never doubted before. She had never needed to.
So why—why now?
She exhaled sharply, shaking her head.
It didn't matter. She would not let someone like Astron's words crawl beneath her skin.
She knew what she wanted.
"But do I really know that?"
"But do I really know that?"
The question settled in her chest like a stone, heavy and unyielding. Lilia stared at the target in front of her, at the arrows embedded deep into its surface. Some were dead center, some slightly off—but none were truly wrong.
And yet, she still felt unsatisfied.
Her grip on the bow tightened as her mind churned. Now that I think about it… do I really have to do all of this?
Her own words, her own actions—when she looked back at them, she could see it.
She could see the parts of herself that she had ignored.
Yes, she was ambitious. Yes, she wanted to win. But… there were moments, weren't there? Moments where she hesitated. Moments where she followed a path not because she wanted to, but because it was the right one.
She thought back to her fight with Adrian. She had pushed herself, fought with everything she had. But…
Did she really need to fight him at all?
Her fingers twitched slightly.
Yes, she despised Adrian. Yes, she wanted to prove that she was better than him. But why? Why had she let herself get dragged into his game, knowing exactly what kind of person he was?
Her mind raced further.
And Selene.
Her lips curled slightly in frustration as she thought about her sister. The power struggles. The manipulation. The endless battle of who will win in the end?
But when had it even started?
Lilia exhaled sharply, her crimson eyes darkening.
She had spent so much time wrapped in this battle—fighting to secure her place, pushing herself forward without stopping to ask…
Did she even want this?
She scoffed under her breath. Of course, I do.
But even as she said it, the thought gnawed at the edge of her mind.
She could act high and mighty sometimes, yes. But she wasn't the type to constantly belittle others. She wasn't Selene, she wasn't Adrian. She didn't need to force people beneath her to feel like she was on top.
Then why? Why do I keep fighting like this?
She let out a breath, running a hand through her hair.
Was it really about proving herself?
Or was she just doing what she thought she was supposed to do?
She told herself that this was about the Olympus Vanguard, about securing her position in her family. That was what mattered, right?
But here, at this academy, in a place that was just a simple club…
Why am I trying so hard?
She could have let Adrian and Selene play their little games. She could have focused on other things—on actual alliances, on real power-building tactics.
Yet she had spent weeks fighting for control over this club.
She had gone out of her way to win over cadets, to counter Adrian, to go head-to-head with him in a battle that, in the grand scheme of things, didn't even matter.
Did it?
Lilia's breathing was slow, steady, but her mind felt anything but.
She closed her eyes briefly, forcing herself to focus.
No. She wasn't weak. She wasn't wrong for pushing forward.
Just as Lilia was about to draw another arrow, she felt it—an unfamiliar yet unmistakable presence entering the training grounds.
Her instincts sharpened immediately, and without even turning around, she analyzed what she could sense.
The footsteps were light, graceful, but carried the confidence of someone well-trained. There was no hesitation in their movements, no lurking hostility.
A senior.
And given the distinct weight of her presence, how she almost seemed to glide rather than walk, Lilia could tell—it was a woman.
That meant there was only one person it could be.
Senior Elara.
Lilia lowered her bow slightly, but she didn't turn to face her right away. Instead, she exhaled, her posture relaxing just a fraction.
"Senior Elara," she said, her voice even. "Didn't expect you to be here."
A soft chuckle met her ears before the senior finally stepped into her line of sight. Elara, Vice President of the Archery Club, stood a few meters away, arms loosely folded, her golden-brown hair pulled into a casual braid over her shoulder.
Her hazel eyes, always sharp but carrying an unusual warmth, studied Lilia with mild amusement. "Didn't expect you to be here either," she replied smoothly. "It's late."
Lilia smirked faintly, turning back to her target. "Didn't feel like sleeping yet."
"Figured."
"How?"
"Your appearance when you were about to leave."
Lilia shook her head lightly, exhaling. "I guess that gave it away."
Elara smirked, shifting her weight slightly as she studied her. "Indeed."
Without another word, she stepped forward, coming to stand beside Lilia, her hazel eyes flickering toward the targets in front of them.
It had been a while since Lilia had recruited Elara. At first, it had simply been a calculated move—Lilia had recognized her talent, her sharp mind, and her ability to read people far too well. And in a place like the Archery Club, where influence was just as important as skill, that kind of talent was invaluable.
And Elara had delivered.
She was good—exceptionally good—at dealing with people. The way she maneuvered through conversations, how she could disarm hostility with a well-placed comment or a perfectly timed smile, was a skill Lilia had come to respect.
It made sense how she had been able to navigate Adrian so well, how she had balanced herself between the growing tensions in the club without ever making herself a target.
Lilia lowered her bow slightly, glancing at her. "You didn't just come here to talk about my expressions, did you?"
Elara chuckled, rolling her shoulders slightly. "I figured you'd want to be alone."
"And yet, here you are."
Elara smirked. "Like I said, I figured."
Lilia sighed, turning her gaze back to the target. She let the silence stretch between them for a moment before finally speaking.
"You're good at this."
Elara arched an eyebrow. "At what?"
Lilia shot her a look. "At navigating people. At reading them."
Elara's lips curled slightly, not in denial, but in amusement. "Is that a compliment or an accusation?"
Lilia exhaled sharply. "Both."
Elara hummed in response, glancing back at the targets. "Well, that's why you recruited me, isn't it?"
Lilia smirked slightly, nocking another arrow. "Among other reasons."
She drew her bowstring back, eyes locked onto the center of the target.
Thwack!
A perfect shot.
Elara watched, nodding slightly. "You know, it's funny."
Lilia arched an eyebrow. "What is?"
Elara crossed her arms. "For someone who claims to be so certain of herself, you sure seem to be questioning a lot tonight."
Lilia's grip tightened slightly around her bow, but she didn't turn to look at her.
Elara tilted her head. "That match with Adrian got to you more than you thought, didn't it?"
Lilia's lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe."
Elara watched her carefully before finally speaking again. "You don't have to do everything alone, you know."
Lilia let out a breath, lowering her bow. "I know."
Elara didn't push further, and Lilia was grateful for it.
Because the truth was, she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to hear right now.
And maybe—just for tonight—having someone stand beside her in silence was enough.