“What are you doing?” A soothing voice came from behind.

  So it was Irene. There were approaching footsteps, but he wasn’t sure whether it was the father or the daughter.

  “Good morning! I’m washing my clothes, you know, to show up better this noon at the council.” Zalanir rubbed the pumice on a stubborn stain on his green-turned-bronze-pastel robe. Would take a while until it was back to the original green color again.

  “I can see that, but why are you doing it yourself?”

  “Eh, there is a laundry service here? I’m broke, though.” Zalanir let his hands rest for a moment. That stain had finally given in, but still, it was just one of many. Somehow, this cost him more effort than an actual fight.

  “I’m talking about why are you doing it physically? Any special reason?”

  “Oh, lovely dress. You look good.” He stood up to crack his neck when the sight of Irene wearing a short, flowery gown in teal color entered his view. Good color to go with her ripen-cherry ponytail. “As for the cleaning, is there any other way? You sound like there is an alternative to what I’m doing.”

  Five pumices flew over from the dilapidated, broken-in-a-corner well near the campanula-populated wall on the left, hovering above Irene’s hand. Then, they simultaneously slapped and rubbed the robe, peeling off one patch of smudge after another. And just like that, what he had spent the last ten minutes doing was done in a couple of seconds.

  Irene’s eyes darted to his, her chin angled up, and her hands crossing in front.

  “Didn’t know you could do that. Is this a skill, or …?” He had to know what this was. The convenience alone was too much to ignore.

  “How come you are one of the survivors if you mistake this basic use of ambient magic for a skill?”

  There didn’t seem to be any mocking in her voice, but still, that question was like a knife stabbing his heart. Ambient magic. How could he not think of that?

  “Don’t be like that. He is a competent fighter.” Dakrua came over from the restaurant direction, his hands holding two bags of vegetables and several fusty jars that assaulted Zalanir with a pungent, acidic smell. “Not everyone is as good at controlling ambient magic as you.”

  “Pa, where’s the honey? We only have half a pot left,” Irene asked after opening each and every jar in the bag.

  “Sorry. That merchant said that he got ambushed last night and lost all of his wares. I will go to the uptown tavern later to see if they have any spare.”

  “Please return before the dinner. In the meantime, I will see what I can do.” She grabbed two jars and the vegetable bag and headed to the restaurant. The five pumices thudded on the loamy soil right after she turned away.

  “Sorry. She is rather frank in her comments. Don’t mind it too much,” Dakrua said.

  “Nah, it’s my own stupidity. I didn’t know how to do what she just did. I hadn’t even thought about using ambient magic to control the pumices, to be honest. Just a habit of, you know, using my hands to do the washing.”

  “The more you see, the more you will start using ambient magic for these mundane tasks. By the way, we should leave before noon. The main hall is in the uptown area, so we will have to walk for a bit.”

  “I will just remain here, so please come and get me when it’s time.” Zalanir squatted near a pumice and started working on his ambient magic again. Five was out of hand, but perhaps he could do two?

  “Sure. And congratulations on reaching C-grade.” Dakrua said, picked up the other three jars, and went to the warehouse.

  Zalanir instinctively used Identify on the man and smiled after seeing the result. Looked like it wasn’t just him who had made the jump.

  [Human — Level 50]

  He returned to his room with a somewhat clean robe. Two lines of dried blood drew from the collar to the belly area, coupled with a large blemished brown splotch on the left flank remained uncleanable no matter how hard he rubbed. He just gave up after a while, as who cared. This was presentable enough already.

  If only he could use more of those rocks. His control of ambient magic was still limited to about half a meter from his body, and moving a pumice up and down was already hard enough for him. There was no way he could fly them all the way like Irene, let alone using all of them to clean the clothes.

  What a joke! He was a C-grade while Irene’s level sat at 26. It was as if he was losing to a kid in a lifting contest. And the System called him a genius? Zalanir shook his head and let loose a sigh.

  No, couldn’t be like this. Ambient magic. He had to master it. And thus, Zalanir spent time trying to lift and control the soft pillow. The cat came over, but then yawned and waved its tail while walking away.

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  “It’s time to go.” Dakrua’s call got Zalanir out of his focus. After two hours or so, all he could do was float the pillow about a finger joint from the bed, but still, considering its size compared to a pumice, not a bad training session.

  “Oh, nice jerkin. You make me look bad in these battered clothes.” Zalanir smiled wryly. He didn’t expect the enforcer would change from the usual blue armor to a black, sleeveless vest and a white, long-sleeved shirt beneath the tunic. And what’s with those stylish chocolate-brown gloves? The man looked like he was about to attend his daughter’s wedding or something.

  “Haha, forgive me. Not often do I get to greet the full council in person. Our general would give me a spank if I am too sloppy.” A gentle smile formed on the chef’s lips.

  Zalanir wanted to ask the chef for a change of clothes, but chose to let it go. No need to bother his host any further. Besides, him being like this might highlight Dakrua even more, as giving the old man the spotlight wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  If Bodylovo was a messy settlement where buildings were built however they liked, then Yebin was a representation of modern design, with houses and shops lining up and clustering in a functional-based planning.

  Dakrua’s restaurant stayed in the downtown, which was determined purely on the basis of the geographical layout, not by the volume of activities as the majority of cities on Earth. The residential area took place mostly alongside the huge river running straight through the city, their design a symphony of one floor, blond as the main color, and tons of other shades and decorations acting as the differentiators.

  “So, what came first, the uptown or downtown? I suppose downtown, as it was easier to build and gather here compared to that hill?” Zalanir asked the chef who was ambling next to him.

  “Correct. The city expanded up there only after the appearance of the hill. That area was originally a lake.”

  “Land reclamation? Any reason? I think the city can always build around the lake like how you do with the river.”

  “There was no river at that time either. This one Yebinava River, alongside with the hill, were brought here, or created, by a god, or so as written from the history books. It was said to be an act to help us establish a proper foundation for a city near the border, and thus we have Yebin now as a major guardian for the northern border,” the chef said with contemplative eyes.

  “A god? How many do we have in total?”

  “None if you mean the human force in Bigovie. We are not a strong power. If we have a god, then we would be in the Second Ring already. The strongest person in the country is the old man Gedras, an A-grade.”

  “So the god you mentioned earlier …” Zalanir had so much to follow, but he took one question at a time only. The hill was still far away, so they had time.

  “She’s from the Second Ring, specifically a race named Nasciivez. She’s an ally, but that’s all I know. There isn’t much information about the Second Ring here … What happened?”

  Dakrua’s voice woke Zalanir from his paralysis, which he returned with a smile “Ah, sorry, my head just now hurts a bit. Probably a cold strike, but nothing to worry about.”

  Zalanir made up an excuse because he couldn’t let the chef know about the current storm inside his mind. Nasciivez, a name that instantaneously brought him back to the defensive war in the forest. Zalanir was there, seeing the struggle and braveness of the shapeshifting tribe when defending against the human invader through the eyes of Verizss’ia. He didn’t expect to come across this name here, but now that there seemed to be a connection between them and the human force in Yebin, he had to dig into this deeper. That man with the diagonal scar at the end, there was no shot he would forget that.

  Djaxinz’s master … What would be the connection there? He couldn’t recall the image of the old man, as things were rather dark and happened in an instant back there, but now that he thought back to that meeting in the forest, perhaps that old man was a nasciivez. Yeah, high chance that he was, considering he was flying and having the butterfly that started everything. If true, then what would be the relation here?

  “The nasciivez. Who are they?” Zalanir asked. He had to get something. Anything.

  “I don’t know. Except for that brief mention of the god, there is no record about that race.” Dakrua shook his head.

  “You mentioned the Second Ring. What is it?” Zalanir approached from another angle. This was his second time hearing this besides the lure from Eiselen hoping to rope him in together with the cultist. He knew nothing back there, but the chef seemed to know a thing or two about it.

  Dakrua sighed. “In one way or another, you could say that the Second Ring was the dawn of the cultist hunt, and the reason for all the tragedies. Everyone always strives for more, wants to become stronger, and the attraction of the Second Ring from all the tales and such is hard to resist.” The man stopped and shifted his gaze toward the sky. Zalanir didn’t interrupt, as he was sure that the chef would continue soon.

  “So, as you seem to know nothing, we are just a small force on this continent, occupying a piece of land where we build our country, a place for us to live and thrive. There are, of course, other races and powers on this same continent, outside of our borders, who are our allies, enemies, or who we yet have any connection to. But there are other continents as well, and not just that, the planet we are living on isn’t the only one either. That is common knowledge. Now, what if I told you that there is another layer, where our planet is just a part of a bigger structure called the First Ring? And the Second Ring, is what triumphs the first one, where the strongest residing there. Powers, treasures, mythical beasts, the Second Ring has them all. Details? Hard to come by, but its existence is enough to sate even the wildest dreamers.”

  Zalanir’s heart drummed and roared with utmost fervor. An unknown energy pumped into his body, urging him to just find an enemy, or anything, to break and let it out. He was back to being a kid looking at the ATP catalogue, specifically the chart where the names of the top ten and top fifty players in the world were written in beautiful typography. Ten thousand points. That was the first time he had a concrete idea of what it took to become the world number one in tennis. That was the goal that he then spent his whole youth pursuing, playing tournament after tournament to accumulate enough points to cross the divine threshold.

  Now, he had found the same thing. It wasn’t a piece of paper, but the path lay clear in front of his eyes. The Second Ring. He had to get there. That was where the best belonged. If the current place was just a giant Challenger Tour to screen talents, then that would be the ATP Tour.

  The universe awaits your arrival.

  This notification from the System rang once again in his ears. So, the Second Ring was where it was mentioned. Somewhere in there was where he would meet the strongest person, and the fateful battle if he wanted to claim that title.

  The Second Ring. So that was where the soul inside the lantern originated. Those cultists had built a ritual to call upon the souls of those who breathed the superior air, no wonder both the birduomera and the stag were that strong. And no wonder the soul lion when it possessed him was that powerful. Everything made sense now.