What? Arthenis?? Did you forget to take your meds?" Josen's voice cracked with disbelief. To him, Augustus might as well have said his entire life had been a lie.
"Quiet… boy."
The old man's command was cold, snapping the air still.
"Let me finish."
He paused again, like he was gathering words carefully, struggling to explain something complicated in the simplest way.
"Listen. Every being born in this world is born with an affinity. Elves with their green arthenis and elemental magic. Goblins, beasts, monsters with red or black arthenis—depends on the creature. Poison, decay, flame, shadow—it shapes them from birth."
"Elves? Aren't they just myths? Wait—are you saying they're real?" Josen blurted, eyes wide.
Augustus's expression didn't shift. He clearly had no patience for his grandson's poor geography skills.
"Let's move on." His tone was casual, but carried an authority that shut Josen up instantly.
"Next are… Defectors."
The word itself seemed to drain the oxygen from the room. Josen wasn't sure if it was the weight of the word, or Augustus himself—he could swear the old man was tugging at the air, or bending space itself.
"We are born with a white arthenis. Sometimes dirty-white. Different from… them."
"Them? Who's them?"
"Forget it. You don't need to know—yet."
"But we can… what, absorb others?"
Augustus narrowed his eyes. "Way to skip ahead, boy. Yes. That, and more. I haven't found the limits of our ability."
Josen's jaw tightened. Questions tore through his skull—elves, affinities, his new power—
"What about the fake system I saw in the dungeon?" he blurted.
Augustus sighed, long and heavy, like he wasn't prepared for the topic but couldn't dodge it either.
"I'm starving. Let's go upstairs. I'll answer as I dine."
Dine? Josen raised a brow. Since when did the old man speak like some noble?
"…Okay," he muttered, drawing out the word just to underline his confusion.
They climbed the dark stoned staircase, the polished steps catching the glow of the evening sun. Josen's eyes wandered—Augustus's weapon racks, strange multicolored orbs, a blade that shimmered with a blended hue, murals of expeditions. On one, figures with white skin, sharp ears, and short, choppy hair stared back at him.
Elves… so they really are real.
Inside the dining hall, Zigmo sat at the polished table, silent. Augustus moved around the kitchen with eerie precision—pots, noodles, kettles, forks all floated to his side as if obeying him. There was no stove, no fire, no fuel.
Josen's jaw nearly hit the floor when Augustus set a pan in the air. Space itself shimmered red-hot, and the pan cooked as though resting on invisible flame. Aroma filled the room as noodles stirred themselves and slid neatly into a bowl. Augustus sat, savoring each bite, before finally gesturing for Josen to speak.
"Well… how did you make that dungeon? And the people inside—were they really your creations?"
"Don't worry about our friend," Augustus replied. "But yes. The first layer of the dungeon was mine. After the checkpoint, I linked you to a random rift."
Relief surged through Josen's chest. Zigmo wasn't some conjured illusion after all.
"Next," Augustus prompted.
Josen licked his lips, hesitant. "Then… What was that fake system notification? I thought the defectors couldn't use the system."
"The system you saw was something I crafted. A framework to give you a sense of how they measure strength. As for your second question…"
Augustus's eyes flicked toward Josen's bag. "The orbs helped you. And your… eye."
His voice dropped lower on that last word, like it carried more weight than Josen understood.
"I was surprised those twins gave it to you. It will grow stranger as you grow stronger. And your poison—"
Josen tightened his grip on the empty orb in his hand. "Is there more? Can you explain the power rankings? Both of them, the system one and the other one."
Augustus finished his soup, set the bowl aside in thin air, and stood.
"Listen carefully, boy. Liones uses the system's ranking: F, E, D, C, B, A, S… up to SSS. It's simple, recognizable. It tells them how dangerous you are, how much influence you hold. By now you've realized that S-rank is roughly equal to a low-tier angel."
Josen smirked. "So I'm already angel-level?"
"Don't kid yourself." Augustus's voice cut sharp. "If it weren't for that goblin, you'd be dead. You're nowhere near that level."
"…Oh." Josen slumped.
"But," Augustus leaned forward, his scarred hand gripping Josen's wrist, his tone dropping into something almost solemn, "but, if you keep collecting affinities, if you keep growing… you might save us."
Save us? Josen echoed. His mind scrambled. Save who? Augustus didn't need saving. He was…Oh.
The realization clicked. Augustus meant Defectors, all of them, all of us. our people. Josen nodded, silently swearing to himself.
"Now," Augustus continued, "let me tell you about the real scale of power. The one used in the other nations."
His voice hardened:
"Now, let me tell you about the true way strength is measured outside of Liones,"
Augustus said, his tone carrying the weight of old secrets.
He leaned back slightly, almost like he was remembering flames he'd once seen.
"The first stage is called Spark. It's just that—a flicker, the first ignition of your power. Small and fragile, but it doesn't go out. Then, when you train and feed that spark, it becomes Ember. At that point, your strength grows more steadier, but it's still searching for its form. With Ember, you're dangerous but not yet dependable."
He twirled his finger, as if stoking an invisible flame.
"After Ember comes the Kindle. That's when your affinity bends to your will. Abilities at this stage can break through limits, sometimes even rewriting the laws that bind weaker men. A fighter here can stand against a quarter of the lioness's army… or carve their own path through the chains of fate."
Josen hung onto every word, wide-eyed.
"Then comes Inferno. This is power unshackled. At Inferno, you change the world around you. Cities fall and the world shakes at your feet. A single swing at this level can redraw maps."
The air seemed heavier as Augustus spoke, his presence pressing down on the room.josen wondered what level augustus was, inferno? Seemed likely
"Beyond that lies Cataclysm… a stage where power doesn't just destroy it distorts. Laws themselves bend around your presence. A Cataclysm could tear half of the Liones apart before the kingdom even knew it was under attack, but most people die from there strength at this stage, their minds melts under itself and dies out, most aren't meant to be this strong"
Augustus's eyes grew distant, his voice lower now, josen felt his body shiver.
"And then, if one survives long enough to climb higher, there's Aetherion. That's when you step beyond mortality's reach. You stop walking as a man and begin walking as something close to an angel. Space, time, elements, even death itself… they start to look smaller in your hands."
He finally stood, his chair creaking. His last words came out almost like a whisper, but carried more weight than thunder.
"And after that… there is only Your Divine. A truth you don't reach by training, nor by fighting. It's something you claim for yourself. No one can explain it. No one can guide you there. You'll know it when you stand before it."
Josen leaned so far forward he nearly slipped off his stool. "Which one are you? Which one am I?"
Augustus turned, halfway across the room already, a smile flickering across his eyes.
"Haha… boy, that's for you to discover. But here's your hint—it's higher than SSS."
Before Josen could grin, Augustus clapped his hands.
"Now, training. I arranged a little match for you."
"…What?"
"We're on the outskirts. This is House Vaelthorn territory. You'll fight their firstborn. Consider it your first impression."
Josen's eyes narrowed, but a smug smile crept across his face. "Mhm. Fine by me."