"That’s something I would like as well, but everything has its time and place," Thalira replied with a brief smile that faded as composure returned to her features. "What I want to know is this: are you the reason Lady Liora Virell managed to subdue the Collossith?"

The question had troubled her ever since she heard her father speak.

Silverlight Zephan’s warning kept echoing in her mind: the Velari Kingdom had been pressed for years under the threat of a Rank 4 Spark, practitioners lost one after another, and then, a single day after Adyr appeared, the impossible happened, and the Spark was subdued as if by a miracle.

She could still remember her father’s lesson, ringing in her ears as if spoken a moment ago:

Never underestimate a rival, my daughter, even when what stands before your eyes seems like nothing more than an illusion.

Now that she understood who Adyr truly was, the meaning of those words felt sharper, yet she still needed to confirm what her instincts had already concluded.

Adyr met her steady gaze and seemed to understand exactly what she wanted to know. Matching her seriousness, he answered, "I helped as much as I could, nothing more and nothing less."

Her brows drew together by a shade; for her, that was a yes, no matter how unimaginable it might seem for a Rank 2 Practitioner to influence a struggle of that scale.

"So it was something your mission required?"

He held her eyes and gave a single, unhesitating answer. "Yes."

"I see." She exhaled slowly, as if a small weight had lifted from her chest.

Adyr had claimed that his mission would benefit the Outer Region and all who lived within it, and now, with the Velari Kingdom rescued from years of catastrophe through his involvement, that claim settled into certainty.

With that assurance in place, she finally gave voice to the question she had carried like a dark burden for years. "After this," she said, silver eyes steady on the pale calm of his, where slow clouds seemed to drift, "when we leave the Legacy Domain, I have a request for you—a favor I wish to ask."

Hearing that Thalira, stubborn by nature, was asking for help sent a ripple of surprise through the onlookers; not only the mixed-race group but even the Lunari Practitioners traded uncertain glances at her unguarded request.

Adyr noted the faint wavering in her eyes, read sincerity rather than doubt, and inclined his head. "If it is something I can do, I will."

Thalira nodded, satisfied, and the small smile returned, lighter now. "Then see you outside."

She turned and stepped toward the endless void, her Lunari kin falling into quiet formation as they followed her into the dark.

Adyr watched in silence for a while as the group receded, his brows tightening slightly.

A race that strong has a problem serious enough to make her ask me for help. Interesting.

The thought lingered, and he found himself genuinely curious about what it might be.

With the Lunari gone, only one group remained.

"Brother." Maruun approached with his usual ease, though uncertainty edged his expression as if he wasn’t sure how to set his tone.

"Hey, brother, we should keep moving as well, right? You’re still after the core, if I’m guessing right?"

Seeing that Adyr’s composure hadn’t shifted and he was behaving exactly as before, Maruun relaxed.

"Yeah." He let out a quick laugh. "Then we’ll split here. We’ll see each other outside."

"Sure. Take care." After the brief exchange, Adyr watched them depart from the islet and let the quiet settle again.

Alone at last, he drew a long breath. "Everything unfolded so quickly, but the result isn’t so bad, I suppose."

He hadn’t planned to reveal his bloodline talents this soon, or to let everyone conclude he belonged to an Elder Race, but the situation had swerved and he had adapted, and in the end he felt the reins were back in his hands.

With the immediate knot cut, he turned his focus to what mattered next: the real gains hidden beneath the ordeal.

First, he focused his mind on his energy body and began examining the changes to his Twilight Land

, now called Nimbus Land .

"This place changed more than I thought." His energy form hovered high above, surveying the terrain with a low murmur of surprise.

The twin islets were still there, divided by a sea of translucent energy, but everything wore a larger shape.

Each islet no longer felt like a sketch of land; they had grown into proper islands, their surface area tripled to about 9,000 square meters apiece. That was a touch over 2 acres, roughly the footprint of a compact campus quad, or about one and a quarter soccer fields, big enough to hold a village square, training yards, and a ring of trees without crowding.

The change was not only in the soil. The sky had shifted as well.

As before, one horizon held the burnished light of sunset while the other kept the clean glow of dawn, the two halves meeting over the center in a perfect, postcard-still line.

The difference now was movement and depth.

Great cloud masses drifted where the sky had once been clear, rolling under a slow, agreeable wind that breathed from right to left as if the entire Sanctuary were taking measured breaths.

"Those clouds look different." Adyr rose toward them, eyes following the lazy churn. Up close, he understood the strangeness.

From a distance, they read as clouds, soft and luminous; under the hand, they felt denser, a quiet solidity beneath the vapor, as if they could bear a careful step.

They weren’t just clouds that brought rain or a storm. They were islands of cloud roaming the sky.

"Okay, I have so much land now, but for some reason, it makes me feel poorer." Adyr laughed, taking in the wide, empty stretches across his two islands.

On one island, the massive Mother Tree ruled the horizon, its crown now brushing the low clouds; long boughs lifted tier upon tier, and heavy leaves poured broad rivers of shade across the ground.

The air beneath it held a cool, loamy scent, the kind that clings after rain. Roosters and Sparks roamed at will through the newly opened stretches, nosing along roots and skirting clearings as if mapping future nests and larger shelters.

On the far side lay a modest plot, its rows set with Gritstalk that rose like tall, sun-dried wheat, the stalks whispering against one another whenever the wind crossed the field.

Cannibal stood beside it, pickaxe in hand, his clothes packed with soil to the seams, watching everything with wary stillness; the sudden change had clearly startled him, yet it left him just as plainly enthralled.

In the opposite corner, the Cindevein that Adyr had brought from the Legacy Domain had already driven its roots deep and remade the ground into a scorched enclosure that glowed faintly at the seams: a field of slow fire rather than ash.

Heat shimmered above the blackened crust, and, if one looked closely, Emberdart Minnow Sparks slipped through the wavering air like bright fish in a current, darting and circling with the easy confidence of creatures perfectly at home.