"That’s good to hear." Adyr seemed satisfied with what he heard.

He still did not hold the Spark he wanted for his 3rd evolution, yet his odds inside the Legacy Domain were far from dim; there should be many Rank 3 Sparks of rare quality. If he found anything that fit the build he intended for his evolution, he would use it on the spot rather than stowing it in a bag and carrying it around.

They chatted a while longer, touching on matters great and small with an easy air, and the rest period drained quickly. Then a clear voice rose from the grand opening of the tent.

"Candidates, please come inside."

It was the Wanderer Merchant, calling and announcing the start of the event.

"Seems we are waiting outside," Malrik said with a sigh, realizing only 200 participants had been invited within. The thought left him a little down at losing the chance to witness the opening of the Legacy Domain’s doors.

"Do not worry. I will recount everything when I return so you can feel as if you were there yourself," Adyr chuckled, slowly spreading his wings.

"Yeah, I will be waiting for the fantastic story," Malrik answered with an audible laugh that softened the tense air.

"I want you to return in one piece. No need to bring back any unnecessary stories," Mirela said, her features soft but intent.

"Go and take everything," Lucen added, the usual stone in his face and a few words carrying everything he wished for.

Liora chose silence. Her look said enough as she watched Adyr draw away, then descend toward the grand doors of the massive white tent.

Soon, all 200 Practitioners gathered at the opening and began to file in. At the far end of the crowd, Adyr was the last to step inside, and the moment he crossed the threshold, he felt the change.

The marketplace looked the same at first glance. The shops still lined both sides like a vast shopping mall, their facades climbing toward the top of the tent; staircases punctuated the lanes at intervals, linking 4 stacked levels that rose all the way to the high canvas ceiling.

The difference was immediate and stark: every shop door was shut, and there was not a single vendor or any other person within.

There was another difference as well. The presence inside had deepened, pouring from the tent’s center where the skeletal remains of the Rank 5 Spark loomed, a gigantic frame whose skull nearly touched the peak of the canopy, its bare bones radiating a pressure that filled the chamber.

"Damn, it almost feels alive," one Practitioner breathed, her eyes fixed on the monstrous, lifeless colossus and giving voice to what the others were already thinking.

Usually, this corpse stood here and cast an oppressive weight over anyone who entered, yet this time the pressure felt heavier, more severe, as if it were designed to make every Rank 2 Practitioner drop to their knees and beg for mercy before a divine being.

Even Adyr felt it.

Despite the exceptional rise in his stats, the moment he looked upon the polished bone, a sensation spread through him as if his entire being were being questioned by something immeasurably greater.

For a moment, it pulled him back to the time he tried to utter "Primora," when he had felt a presence watching him in a way no eye could track, a weight so absolute it seemed to see his entire existence and know all his secrets.

Of course, that time had been 100s of times stronger than what pressed on him now.

"How is it? Do you feel the presence of the Rank 5 Spark?"

Down near the giant’s bony feet, the Wanderer Merchant’s small figure approached the group at an unhurried pace, dwarfed by the skeletal colossus above.

"Feel it and absorb it. This will not be the first or the last time for some of you to meet a pressure like this, because among you are talents who, I have no doubt, will one day hold power equal to or greater than this."

The words overwhelmed them. They more or less knew whom he meant, but hearing such a judgment from an Adept—someone standing at the threshold where immortality begins—gave the statement a final, absolute weight.

Adyr kept his face steady while the thought pressed inward.

He knows something.

The subtle, meaningful glance he had noticed earlier returned to him once again and strengthened his earlier conclusion.

He probably thinks I am an Elder Race.

He weighed the possibilities and settled on that. In the eyes of a Rank 5 Adept, it was naive to believe he could hide everything. Even if his physical traits resembled a Velari, small differences in form and even the faint signatures in the aura he shed could have given the man enough to understand that he was not just Velari.

There was also the chance the Wanderer Merchant had used an investigative-type Spark skill to learn more.

Yet the Wanderer Merchant showed no hostility and no threat, only a small, precise interest. Seeing that, Adyr chose not to chase the thought further.

In front of a power like this, overplanning meant nothing. If the Adept had intended harm, the gap between them would have made resistance pointless; there would be nothing to do but leave himself to fate.

"Now that everyone looks ready, let us waste no more time." The Wanderer Merchant turned toward the skeletal body of the Rank 5 Spark and lifted his head.

He set his black-furred hand upon the age-whitened bone. The contact was light, almost trembling, and when he spoke, his voice carried a deep, longing tone, as if he were addressing a long-lost friend. With each syllable, a hush of sorrow and a thread of yearning moved through the tent, soft as breath over glass.

"Kardesh... it is time for you to return to your eternal slumber."

With those farewell-sounding words, the entire skeleton began to tremble, and the tent with it.

The oppressive force radiating from the bones swelled for a heartbeat. A hum, like an unknown instrument, poured through the canvas hall and filled every ear and every soul. It felt like the last battle cry of a renowned warrior, and for an instant, everyone sensed a long story passing before their eyes, a life remembered in a single note.

Every other sound dimmed beneath it. Even the heartbeats of the Practitioners seemed to quiet themselves, as if out of respect for the parting resonance of a Rank 5 Spark’s soul.

In a breath, the place became a ceremony, a rite to see a great soul off from this world to the grace of its maker, its god.

The hum began to thin, growing distant with each exhale, while the great architecture of bone loosened. Seams opened like old mortar giving way.

Segments settled and collapsed into powder; ridges sheared and slipped into pale drifts. A dry smell, faintly mineral, touched the air. Light from high in the tent caught the falling motes and set them turning like slow snow.

At last, the vast frame was gone, and where the giant had stood, there remained only a silent mound of dust.

"I hope this last rite was worthy of you."

The Wanderer Merchant’s voice returned, low and muffled. He looked at what remained, bent, and took a handful.

The powder traced pale lines across his dark fur as it sifted away between his fingers. For a moment, he watched it fall, as if measuring the last distance of a long journey.

’’Farewell, old friend."

***

A/N: Yo, another Chapter is coming in about an hour, as Webnovel put the novel on the Weekly Featured tab today, so I will drop a bonus Chapter to celebrate. Hope it gets more visibility and draws in more readers with this. Thank you for all your support (golden tickets, power stones, comments...)