"Young chief!" the Gorathim cried, voices raw with relief, when they recognized their leader alive. Throgar said nothing, yet a visible ease softened the hard set of his features.

"Where is Adyr?" Mirela, steadying herself, wiped the wet from her cheeks and searched the space above.

She kept her eyes on the top, expecting a third figure. Instead, the Serpent’s vast body vanished from the tent in an instant, as if drawn back through a hidden tear, leaving the space abruptly open and bare.

Only then did the one everyone expected to see appear in the open air. White and black wings beat in a patient rhythm, holding him aloft as he carried a body downward—one that none of them remembered looking quite the same as before.

Every gaze fixed on him and breaths held while the Wanderer Merchant stroked his goatee once more, a quiet light kindling in his eyes.

"I suppose a quiet storm is about to fall on the Outer Region."

He looked excited for what was to come, but for now, he chose to remain an observer, watching how the young man would handle the welcome.

As for Adyr, his descent was deliberately slow, almost theatrical, like the protagonist of a grand scene. Quietly, he studied everyone as he moved.

Looks like they already learned what happened, he thought.

His appearance alone suggested that he was more than just someone walking the Astra Path. Yet, with so many types of Sparks in existence, looks could be deceiving. That was precisely why he wanted everyone to learn the truth, at least the version of truth he wanted to spread.

And judging by the way they looked at him, he was sure they already had.

When his feet finally touched the ground, Adyr approached the goatman first. Bowing respectfully until his upper body reached almost a right angle, he spoke with a calm tone.

"I offer my respects, Esteemed Wanderer Merchant."

The Wanderer Merchant went silent for a moment before clasping his hands behind his back, puffing out his chest, and laughing softly.

"Your demeanor humbles this old man, young one. I fully accept your greeting."

He looked genuinely pleased with Adyr’s behavior. In his eyes, Adyr clearly belonged to a powerful and mysterious lineage. With such a background, even a Rank 5 Adept could easily be seen as a mere butler or servant to someone like him.

So this kind of respectful reception only deepened the Merchant’s pride and admiration for the young man’s etiquette.

Adyr straightened his posture, folding his wings back into his back until they vanished, and spoke again in the same respectful tone.

"Experience is the teacher of all things. Where I come from, we hold special respect for those who possess it."

He meant every word. In human society, elders were always treated with respect...almost. And in a world like this, filled with danger and uncertainty, showing respect to the old was more than courtesy; it was acknowledgment that survival to their age meant wisdom and strength.

The Wanderer Merchant nodded quietly, sensing the deeper meaning behind Adyr’s words. He was wise enough to recognize just how dangerously flattering they truly were.

Adyr then looked around until his eyes met Mirela, then Lucen, and finally Liora. "I did not mean to deceive you. I am sorry."

Liora let out a long breath and answered without averting her gaze. "We were the ones who deceived ourselves. Don’t worry about that. ’’

They had thrown themselves so completely into Adyr’s identity and the possibility of an Elder Race connection to the Velari that he barely needed to lift a finger to mislead them.

"I just want you to clarify something." At her words, everyone fell silent. They could guess what she would ask, and they were very curious about the answer.

"What is your real connection to the Velari?"

After meeting the researchers, Dr. Veyla Arden and her assistant Isolde, Liora concluded they must be from the same place as Adyr. Their appearance only strengthened her belief that they closely resembled the Velari.

The contrast stood out. Isolde was blonde and short, which made her look even more Velari, while Veyla was brunette. It was a distinct feature of the Velari in the Outer Region that they had multiple hair and eye colors, while other races, such as the Lunari, had only one kind, silver hair and silver eyes, unless evolution altered their appearance. That difference alone suggested the two races had to be connected in some way.

Well, I am curious about that too, Adyr thought, quietly turning the question over in his mind. He had noticed the same similarities. Outwardly, however, he spoke with complete confidence.

"I am not the first, nor the only one, over millennia, to leave my birthplace and be sent far away." He smiled at their puzzled faces and went on. "The Velari descend from one of my ancestors, who thousands of years ago fell in love with a woman from elsewhere and started a family."

Adyr kept his expression as serious as possible, but inside, he was in turmoil. Okay, this might be the biggest lie I have ever told.

With one bold statement, he was rewriting the entire history of a race thousands of years old. Yet he held an important card. Who could prove what he said was true or false?

He had not been idle during his stay at the Velari Kingdom.

He had studied many books from the royal private library, especially the complete histories of each race. The earliest records reached only a few thousand years back, and even then, the Velari were only settled tribes.

What came before, how they first appeared, or where they originated was unknown. There was no evidence for those earlier ages, so he turned that gap in knowledge to his advantage.

Liora, Lucen, and even Mirela, who was already shaken by her grief, looked at Adyr with wide, shocked eyes. If they lived on Earth, they would think what he was saying was just nonsense taken from a soap opera plot, yet for some reason, it made a great deal of sense to them here.

Liora wanted one more opinion. She turned to the goatman, the oldest among them, to seek his wisdom.

"Do not look at me. I am not that old," the Wanderer Merchant said with a shake of his head.

Though he was born in the Outer Region, his race did not originate here. He was just an outcast, a story entirely of its own to be told another time.

There was also no response from the Lunari and Gorathim sides, as they were in the same situation: one a battle-obsessed people whose history had been destroyed and rebuilt many times so that no written record remained intact, and the other a tribe whose culture did not even use writing, communicating only through mind and symbols.

Seeing everyone remain silent, Adyr let out a quiet sigh. He was about to feel things slipping out of control. He had overstepped with his lie, yet now there was no reliable source that could deem his words false.

At last, Liora seemed to accept what was said and lowered her head slightly. ’’So this is the truth.’’