Josen slept like a baby, or he would have if his brain hadn't been stuck on autopilot. Shadows
flickered everywhere. He could see through walls, every rustle, every step, every insect magnified like he had a lens pressed against his eye. His vision kept tearing up; his normal eye burned red, straining to keep up with the
difference in quality. It felt like his body was trying to make up for the imbalance, but all it did was leave him in a night of pure pain.
When dawn finally
broke, Josen groaned.
"Finally," he muttered, stretching his arms as
he stared out the window.
The view of the mountains greeted him. For the first time, he truly appreciated the scale of
Augustus' estate. Obviously, it was incomparable to the Malkador compound,
It was still fifty thousand square feet, with a vast underground system he had only glimpsed. He imagined himself old and gray, sitting at a porch here after everything was done—after freeing the Defectors, after uncovering the unknown.
But that future was still far away.
He dragged himself to the bathroom, rummaging for toiletries. His electric toothbrush back at the mansion—twenty thousand spins a minute, heaven in his mouth. Now? Just a wooden curved stick. He sighed as he scrubbed stroke by stroke, spitting out
the bland paste.
The shower didn't offer mercy either. He turned the knob absentmindedly—only to freeze under a torrent of icy water. His bruises screamed, stinging like hot coals pressed
into his skin. He washed lightly, careful not to reopen his wounds. He'd have to ask Gramps to heal him again. Augustus had healed a rabbit before, like it was nothing. The man was too strong—space, air, healing, and probably a dozen other affinities Josen hadn't even seen yet. In all of Lioness, few could compare.
Drying himself with a thermo-towel, warmth spread across him like a gentle embrace. He dressed carefully:
– black, mana-enforced pants—loose enough to hide orbs and weapons,
– a skin-tight undershirt, padded and light,
– and a dark overcoat patterned with strange
symbols he couldn't decipher. It draped to his knees, black with purple shades, hooded to shadow his head.
His golden katana hung comfortably at his waist, daggers slipping neatly into his coat. The violet fumes leaking from them had grown more alive the more he used them.
"Josen!" Augustus
called.
In a blink, Josen flashed into the kitchen, landing on the polished stool. Augustus slid a plate before him: eggs, fruit, and bread.
"Thanks, old
man."
"You're welcome, my boi", Augustus replied with a beaming smile.
They ate in silence, the air heavy with unspoken words. This might be one of their last quiet meals together for a long while.
"Do you really think I'm ready? That I'll be the one to make a change—to free our race?" Josen asked finally.
Augustus answered immediately, though something flickered in his eyes—sympathy along with raw emotion, like he pitied the path Josen had to go on but he smiled and spoke.
"Don't burden yourself with destiny, boy. You
are your own person. Be the best version of yourself. Be a hero, but don't believe it's all your responsibility."
Josen leaned against his shoulder. It was firm, but comforting—better than any pillow.
Someone understood him, at least. Augustus patted his head, and in that moment, Josen felt his injuries melt away, aches fading like whispers. He sprang up, renewed, even touching the ceiling with a leap.
They headed out. The compound looked alive in morning light—dewy leaves, birdsong, and forests stretching beyond Liones. Villages lay scattered, small Defector communities
and villagers. Josen hoped to visit them one day, with enough power to make a
difference.
The vehicle waiting outside wasn't something from the capital—it was an Augustus creation.
Sleek, curved, with mana-infused tires floating over any terrain. Gauntlet slots hidden on the roof, sleek black plating shifting colours to match their tastes.
"Quit showing off your car," Josen muttered, feigning annoyance while his eyes sparkled with intrigue.
"Ho ho, boy.
Someday, when you're older, I might just give this one to you," Augustus teased.
"You better, old
man."
The system chimed when Augustus gave the coordinates.
"Permit?"
"Granted," Augustus replied.
The car sped across roads like lightning. They passed a butler-like man on horseback,
dressed in a sharp suit that split neatly behind his knees, hair slicked back. He looked cold—until shock overtook him at the sight of their vehicle. His distraction earned him a face full of road sign.
Josen nearly doubled over laughing, but his vision blurred suddenly. Data filled his sight.
He could see the man's system stats.
Class: Assassin
Subclass: Hunter
Rank: A — Level 72
Skill: Shadow Split
Passive: Killing Intent Suppression
Note: Other skills hidden.
Josen's eyes narrowed. Weapons littered the man's person—a dagger sharp enough to cut
without touch, guns strapped, hidden blades tucked away. A Drakovich spy planted somewhere for work , most likely.
An A-rank Hunter, huh? No wonder the Drakovich family is feared. The biggest order of spies in all Liones. Anyone could be one of them.
Soon, the vehicle climbed into the hills. Wheels lifted off the ground, gliding on air until they reached colossal gates fifty feet high, black-gold metal reinforced with essence. Guards appeared.
"Lord Augustus!", one of them shouted, voice echoing with respect.
Clearly, Augustus was no stranger here. The other guard trembled, sweat dripping—he must have felt Augustus' power before.
The gates opened, revealing hidden gauntlet slots, weaponized fountains, and everywhere—emblems of the Drakovich: a masked man with a dagger through his skull.Truly Savage.
Josen's vision
flared again.
Guard 1
Class: Assassin
Subclass: Phantom Striker
Rank: S — Level 80
Skill: Blood Drawer
Passive: Eagle Eye
Guard 2
Class: Assassin
Subclass: Shadow Assassin
Rank: S — Level 80
Skill: Shadow Bindings
Passive: Essence Veil
S-rank guards and hundreds of them in fact, maybe more inside, some training some being taught multiple languages, this family was untouchable—hard to imagine anyone
overthrowing them, and their places in lioness' oligarchy
"Focus, boy,"
Augustus snapped, amusement tugging at his mouth. "You can measure their skills after you've beaten their heir."
The marble doors creaked open. Augustus and Josen stepped forward in unison, valour in their stride. Confidence burned in Josen's chest as he braced for his match.