I already knew that strong people existed in the world. Legendary adventurers, names whispered in taverns, exaggerated stories that grew with every mug of beer. Even so, nothing prepared me for the real feeling of walking beside someone who seemed to exist on a completely different step of reality.
His name was Aelthryn Silvarion.
Elf. SS Class. Leader of the elven guild of Lethariel.
And, strangely enough, he walked alongside us as if that were the most normal thing in the world.
The mission was simple on paper: eliminate a group of scout demons that had settled in ancient ruins west of Vailor. Nothing compared to the main dungeon, nothing that justified such an absurd alliance. Even so, Aelthryn insisted on coming along.
"I want to observe you," he said at the guild, with a smile far too calm for someone of that level. "Especially you, Takumi."
That alone was already uncomfortable.
We set out early in the morning. The sky was clear, the wind light, and Vailor seemed to fall behind too quickly. Elara complained about the pace from the start—her mana still hadn't fully recovered from the last missions. Vespera walked a few steps ahead, pretending confidence, but took the wrong path twice in a row. Liriel floated among us, distracted, murmuring about signs of light that only she seemed to notice.
Aelthryn observed everything in silence.
I felt the weight of his gaze more than any explicit judgment.
"You seem tense," he commented, as if talking about the weather.
"It's a habit," I replied. "When someone much stronger shows up out of nowhere."
He laughed, a low, elegant laugh. "Strength is relative. What interests me is what grows when someone is pressured."
That didn't help at all.
The ruins emerged in the middle of a rocky field, broken columns and walls covered in ancient moss. The air was far too cold for that region—an artificial, controlled cold. The flame inside me reacted slightly, as if poking for my attention.
"They're here," I murmured.
Vespera raised her bow. "How many?"
Before I could answer, Aelthryn stepped forward. He didn't draw any weapon. He simply closed his eyes for a second.
When he opened them, the world seemed to… adjust.
I felt the pressure. Not explicit magic, not a crushing aura, but something subtle, as if the space around him had decided to obey. Demons emerged from the ruins little by little—cautious, armed, organized. More than we expected.
Elara swallowed hard. "This doesn't look like a simple mission."
"It isn't," I replied. "But it's manageable."
Vespera fired the first arrow. She missed. It flew wide, ricocheting off a stone.
"Damn it," she muttered.
Before the demons could react, Aelthryn moved.
It wasn't fast. It was precise.
He walked.
And with each step, a demon fell.
No explosions, no grand effects. A touch in the air, a minimal gesture, and the creature simply stopped, froze from the inside, and collapsed as if it had forgotten how to exist. I attacked as well, the flame responding well, cutting, burning, demanding total focus.
Even so, it felt unfair.
I fought with everything I had. He… strolled.
Elara tried to cast a containment spell. The light formed, trembling, and dissipated far too quickly. Insufficient mana. Liriel tried to help, invoking an S-class beam of light that illuminated the field more than it caused any real damage.
Aelthryn noticed. With a gesture, he created a perfect opening for us.
"Now," he said.
We took advantage. We worked well as a team, as always. I felt proud of that. But I also felt something worse.
The difference.
When the last demon fell, I was out of breath. Sweat ran down my back, the flame slowly settling. Aelthryn didn't have a scratch. He didn't even look tired.
Vespera rested her hands on her knees. "Okay… that was humiliating."
Elara let out a short laugh. "At least it was quick."
Liriel stared at Aelthryn as if trying to decipher an impossible sacred text. "Your light… isn't like the others."
He turned to me. "And your flame isn't either."
We walked through the ruins, checking for survivors or traps. I couldn't stop thinking—not about his power itself, but about what it meant.
If someone like Aelthryn could exist… then the Sixth General wasn't just a distant threat. He was real. And probably on an even higher level.
"Do you think we have a chance?" I asked suddenly.
Aelthryn stopped. He looked at me with genuine attention. "Today? No."
Silence.
Vespera seemed about to complain, but held back. Elara looked away. Liriel floated lower.
"But," he continued, "you grow fast. Especially you. Your flame isn't common. It learns."
"Learning doesn't guarantee winning," I replied.
"No," he agreed. "But it guarantees survival. And surviving is the first step to killing a general."
We returned to Vailor at dusk. The mission was considered a success. Modest pay, but honest. Even so, something had changed.
I didn't feel defeated.
I felt… behind.
That night, lying down and staring at the ceiling of our lodging, I thought about how easily Aelthryn had dealt with everything. I thought about the ice from my dreams. The white eyes. The smile that promised no haste.
The flame inside me burned a little stronger.
Not out of anger.
Out of necessity.
If that was the level required to face what lay ahead… then I still had a long road to walk.