I stared at Sinbad, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, the air around us was thick with tension. Sinbad's expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp, searching.
"The dagger and the magic you use," he said again. "They're not of ordinary origin. You've shown strength beyond what your age or background suggests. So tell me, Naberius—where did you get them?"
I clenched my jaw. The System was the source of all my power—the Dagger of Uriel, my skills, my progress. But that was something I could never tell him. Not just because he might not believe me, but because if Sinbad knew... everything would spiral into chaos.
"I found the dagger in a ruin outside Reim," I said carefully. "A sealed room filled with ancient texts and artifacts. I only survived because of dumb luck. The dagger... chose me. As for my magic, I learned to control it by surviving."
It wasn't entirely a lie. The system's trial for the dagger had indeed been brutal. But Sinbad didn't look satisfied. His eyes narrowed, not with anger, but with curiosity.
"You're hiding something, but I won't press further—yet," Sinbad said, stepping back. "Just know, if there ever comes a day where you turn that dagger against Sindria, I won't hesitate."
"I wouldn't expect anything less," I replied calmly.
Ja'far entered just then, breaking the heavy mood. "We've received word from Yamraiha that it was going to take some time to heal Lady Dunya but Alladin's help the black shards in her body were properly analized. It seems that they react to certain magical frequencies.
"Good. She has valuable info on the Al-Thamen," Sinbad said, While smiling .
As Ja'far left, Sinbad glanced at me one more time. "Naberius, keep your secrets—for now. But know this: I've seen many men hide truths for noble causes. It rarely ends well."
After Sinbad dismissed me, I than walked through the city, lost in thought. The people were already decorating the streets, preparing for the Mahrajan festival . Children laughed and ran, music rang out—it was beautiful.
But my mind was clouded. I had changed fate, kept Dunya alive. But the future was still uncertain. Al-Thamen wouldn't sit idle.
As I wandered, a familiar voice called out.
"Hey, Naberius!"
It was Yamraiha, waving me over. She looked tired but cheerful.
"You've been keeping secrets again," she said playfully. "But... thanks. If not for you, Dunya might not have survived."
"Don't thank me yet," I muttered. "We still have a long way to go."
She nodded. "True. But... I know your informed that I've started studying the fragments inside her. They react to certain magical frequencies. If we can isolate them, maybe we can purge them for good."
That sparked something in me. If she could learn to cleanse the dark Rukh… it could change everything.
"Let me help with that," I offered.
We spent hours in her lab, experimenting, researching, testing spells and runes. Time flew as we worked, and for a moment, I felt like a scholar rather than a warrior. I even though a reader of this manga had unconsiously started to view this world and character's as real peoples.
By nightfall, we had made small progress. The fragments weakened slightly under certain frequencies of Magoi. It was a great start.
The next day, Sindria erupted in celebration as Mahrajan festival had began after Drakon and Hinahoho slayed the sea beast ( the same kind I faced before with Garak, Leo and the crew ). I watched from a balcony, arms crossed, a smile tugging at my lips.
But I couldn't celebrate for long. I felt it—the storm still lingered on the horizon.
To be continued...