"Not for yourselves... and definitely not for me."
His voice didnât rise, but the edge of authority in it left no room for argument.
Levy was the first to respond, his tired face softening into something more determined. He nodded quickly, almost eagerly. "I understand," he said, voice low but earnest. His body was aching, but definitely doesnât wanna become target of boss.
Maria, after a long pause, gave a small, reluctant nod of her own. She didnât speak, but the message was clear: she accepted the warning. Whether for her own sake, or because she knew there were things she wanted from Razeal eventually, she wasnât about to challenge him openly.
Aurora, however, stayed silent. She didnât nod. She didnât shake her head. She just sat there, her guard up, her silence louder than any words she might have given.
Razealâs gaze lingered on her a beat longer, then moved on to maria. "Also," he continued, "donât use your water affinity magic in Atlantis. Definitely not in front of people. That would become a problem. The same goes for all of you.." he looked at other two.. "donât use your abilities where others can see. Youâll only attract the wrong kind of attention."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "Atlantis has a different system. Their power doesnât come from magic. They donât use what we use. If you use your abilities in front of them, theyâll see you as an anomaly. And that kind of attention... will be dangerous."
The words Razeal had spoken left the table in silence, but silence didnât mean peace. His warning about Atlantis, about their powers being seen as anomalies, lingered in the air like a storm cloud.
Which made them all a little surprised mostly Maria. She, more than anyone else, raised her eyes with a sharp flicker of disbelief. For the first time since he sat down, her mask of indifference cracking a little. There is a place in this world where magic cannot be used? Where the power system itself is different?
Her noble upbringing had taught her to think she knew more than commoners, more than most. But this this was something not even the thickest of books in the academy library had hinted at. Curiosity burned behind her expression, though outwardly she maintained her usual icy front.
Razeal noticed, of course. He noticed everything. Without giving her the satisfaction of acknowledgment, he leaned back in his chair and continued. His tone was calm but carried that same absolute weight as before.
"More reason for you all to focus on your physical fighting. That might be the best way to survive without drawing attention."
Mariaâs brow furrowed. "Notice?" she repeated, her voice cool, aristocratic, but threaded with genuine confusion. "Wonât our appearances alone give us away? We definitely look nothing like them... I donât know how they look but.. theyâll for sure notice us instantly."
She wasnât wrong. If the people of Atlantis had a different system, a different world altogether, wouldnât they stand out like painted masks at a funeral?
Razeal didnât even blink. "Donât worry about that. I will prepare it for you all. Everyone will blend in. Or did you think my plan was to simply stroll into the ocean without having my own preparation?" His eyes locked onto hers, calm but sharp. "Did you think I was going to rely on your little tricks with water magic so we could breathe down there?"
The words cut. He didnât say them cruelly, but plainly coldly, as if pointing out the obvious stupidity of the thought.
Maria said nothing in reply, but her silence betrayed more than words. Her annoyance flared in her eyes, however carefully she hid it. Of course she had thought exactly that. Of course she had assumed her presence here was tied to her water affinity. Why else would he have brought her along?
She thought back to the deal theyâd made. She had promised to be of use to him in the ocean, that she would not be a burden. She thought that was why he allowed her aboard. But what if that wasnât the reason at all?
Her thoughts twisted darkly. Was it just easier to bring me here than kill me on land? Her arms crossed, posture still prim and proper like the noblewoman she was, but the truth churned in her eyes. Then.. why is he keeping me alive? Does he plan to kill me later? Or... is there something else?
Confusion gnawed at her, but she didnât let it reach her face. Outwardly, she stayed the same chin high, lips pressed thin, eyes sharp like knives. The perfect mask of a noble lady always pretending she was above it all.
Razeal, as if sensing the storm in her silence but choosing to ignore it, turned his gaze away. His arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in his chair, perfectly at ease.
"Also," he said plainly, "you should talk to the old man. Ask him about the things youâll need to survive in Atlantis. Learn from him. It will be best for all of you."
The three of them Maria, Aurora, and Levy nodded almost in unison. None said a word. The air was thick with awkwardness.
And so, silence reigned at the table.
The ship creaked as the waves carried it forward, the salty breeze brushing against their faces. For Razeal, the silence wasnât uncomfortable. Awkwardness was something that existed between people who cared about such things. For him, silence was simply silence. A natural state of existence.
Still, boredom gnawed at him. He had never been someone who sat still without thoughts or purpose.
So he turned inward.
Hey, system... he called in his head, voice calm but carrying a note of curiosity. Which power system is stronger? The one of Atlantis... or the one of the land?
He hadnât cared to ask before, but now the question mattered. They were on their way into Atlantis, into a world built on different laws. Understanding could mean survival.
The familiar, mechanical voice answered immediately.
[Both power systems might look different, host, but ultimately they fall into the same category.]
Razealâs brows twitched faintly. Vague answers irritated him. Explain, he demanded.
[There is nothing much to explain,] the system replied, its voice calm, as though speaking a truth so simple a child could understand. [In both systems, whether on land or in Atlantis, a beingâs personal power will always be limited. Power that comes from within is small. You can only do so much with it.]
Razeal stilled. His eyes fixed on the horizon, but his thoughts spiraled inward. Power from within is small? The words rolled in his mind like stones grinding together. He frowned faintly, irritation flickering behind his calm expression.
Elaborate, he pressed. Give me examples. What exactly do you mean?
The system seemed to pause for the briefest moment, as though deciding how best to phrase its explanation.
[Very well. Let us begin with something simple. Take your own physical strength, host. No matter how much you train, no matter how extraordinary your body becomes, that strength has limits. At best, even exceptional beings can reach what you would call an S-rank. But if you desire to go beyond that to touch SS-rank, or something higher you cannot rely only on yourself. You must come back to the same source as everything else: the universe. Its energy, its power, its laws.]
The words resonated with him.
[No matter how great a being is, their influence will always be finite, compared to the infinite complexity and power of the universe itself.]
Razealâs frown deepened, his arms crossing. He didnât interrupt, waiting for the system to continue.
[Consider aura and magic. You believe they are yours, drawn from within your body. But that is an illusion. They do not belong to you. You absorb them from the universe. You manipulate what is already there, bending it, shaping it, using it. That is why some excel and others fail it depends not only on willpower, but on how much of that external energy you can draw upon.]
The systemâs voice was steady, almost detached, but every word rang with finality.
[In truth, all strength comes from the world around you. Even what you call "physical strength" exists because you absorb energy from the world through food, through breath, through sunlight and air. Your muscles do not burn alone; they burn with what the world provides. How much power one can wield is always tied to how much one can borrow, steal, or resonate with the universe.]
Razealâs eyes narrowed faintly. And Atlantis?
[Atlantis is no different, only dressed in a different skin. Their relicas those living objects formed by emotion, memory, and will are simply another manifestation of the universeâs power. They are crystallized fragments of the worldâs memory, storing strength the same way a gemstone stores light. To wield a relica is to borrow from the universe once again. Do not be fooled by appearances. The source is always the same.]
Silence pressed against him, broken only by the sound of waves slapping the shipâs hull.
So... you mean I can never truly be strong on my own? Razeal asked at last, his mental voice calm, though his brows tightened slightly. That no matter what I do, I will always have to rely on the world around me?
[Yes.]
The answer was blunt, merciless.
[There is nothing shameful in this, host. It is simply the truth. Every being relies on it, whether they realize it or not. They breathe air. They consume food. They bathe in light. They take in aura, magic, relica resonance. All of it comes from the same source: the world. Even the so called strongest cannot escape this law. It is eternal.]
Razealâs jaw tightened. He remained outwardly calm, but his mind churned.
I see... he thought. But unease coiled inside him like a snake. Then what happens if the universe itself stops giving? If the world decides I am unworthy? What if... I ask, and it refuses?
It was not just idle thought. he knows it very well: his inability to use mana. The rejection of aura. His very bloodline stripped from him. He did not lack will. He did not lack hunger. But the world itself seemed to scorn him, to deny him the tools others wielded freely.
If all power came from the world, then wasnât he already living proof of what happened when the world chose to deny you?
The thought dug sharp into his chest. Would I just be powerless then? Stripped of everything?
The system answered as though reading his mind.
[Yes, host. You were unable to become strong in the traditional sense because the world does not favor you. That is the truth. The world has favorites, chosen ones. Those who carry its blessing find strength easily. They bend aura and magic to their will as if born for it. They resonate with relics as if they were extensions of their soul. The world makes their path smooth as for other they just create ways themselves to get these things from world.. the difference is that.. for some World itself makes the way and for someone they personally would have to..]
The systemâs tone was cold, unflinching.
[But you, host... the world has rejected you. That is why what is effortless for others is a battlefield for you. That is why your struggle is greater, your path crueler. It is not that you lack talent. It is that the world itself has closed its doors to you.]
Razealâs expression did not change
He just sat in silence, his eyes drifting toward the horizon where the endless blue sea met the sky. The salt wind pressed against his face, cool and steady, but his mind was restless. For all his calm expression, questions had begun to stir inside him questions he could no longer suppress.
What about me, then? he finally asked within his mind, his voice sharp yet quiet. If all strength is just borrowing from the world... am I not getting stronger now? What am I even borrowing from the world at this moment? What am I using?
His words carried confusion, even a trace of unease, though his outward face remained still.
The systemâs voice answered immediately, a measured tone that cut through his thoughts with unwavering certainty.
[All of your powers are borrowed from the universe as well, host. Do not be mistaken.]
Razealâs brows twitched slightly, though he gave no other reaction.
[Take your Obsidian Skeleton, for example. That strength your sharpened body, your durability did you create it? No. It is from the universe. You wield it, but you did not birth it. Or consider your Killing Dao. Its essence comes from a universe not even this one. The Flow Dao, too, originates from elsewhere, carried from realities beyond your own.]
The systemâs voice grew firmer, like a teacher pressing a lesson into a stubborn student.
[They are yours now, yes. You can use them. You have shaped them for urself. But you must not mistake possession of them. These are laws of reality you have taken hold of. They belong to the universe. You only channel them.]
A faint pause, then:
[Nothing comes from nothingness, host. Nothing. Fear not the world you stand in now cannot strip those powers from you.. Since these arenât from here. No one can. But understand clearly: your strength, too, is borrowed. Controlled, yes, but not born of your own self.]
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