"Strength is measured based on different realms of power, from Intermediate to God." Her tone was patient, but her gaze held a spark, as if testing him. "Realms mark one's strength," she continued, her voice crisp. "Intermediate is the start… commonly, you'll find those in this realm being able to easily break stone or walls. Most people who have awakened their spirit energy are here." She gestured to the caravan, where the old man and the other guards unpacked bread. "The Mortal realm comes next. They are stronger, with strength that allows them to be able to shatter houses even. Then King realm, one King realm soldier is enough to clear an entire castle of guarded by a hundred Mortal realm soldiers, like Valewind's lord. Earth and Sky realms follow, and their strength is even greater, some say they wield enough power to be able to destroy towns or even small mountains." She took a short break before continuing.
"Heaven Realm comes after that. It is said that they can raze islands single handedly."
"Wow," Kaene muttered, an action deliberate, showing his surprise.
"Demigod Realm and above are like legends. There are rumors of masters that exist in different places, but because they hardly involve themselves with the world, people have taken them as legends." She explained.
"What about you? Do you belive they are just legends?" Keane asked.
Elara looked at him for a moment, they averted her gaze almost as though she did not want to answer. "At the very least, beings in the Demigod Realm exist, we just don't see or know them." She said. "There is a saying. It goes like this, Demigods reach near the moon but can only shake it, Immortals sit on the moon and can shatter moons, and Gods… They hold worlds in their palm." She paused, her blue eyes distant. "The God Realm is a myth, mostly."
Listening to all this, Keane's mind spun. Following all normal logic, there were certainly beings that existed at all these realms of power he had just heard, that was how these worlds operated after all, if fictional stories were to be believed.
Keane nodded thoughtfully, his expression deliberately neutral despite the calculations racing through his mind. If these power classifications were accurate, he was sitting on a goldmine of potential. With his system, the hierarchy Elara described was essentially a roadmap for his ascension.
"And how does one advance through these realms?" he asked, his voice casual but eyes sharp.
Elara's lips curved into a small smile, pleased by his interest. She found his apparent naivety both refreshing and suspicious; a man capable of slaughtering a Makar beast with bare hands, yet claiming ignorance of the most basic power structure.
"Through the Mana Baptism ritual, one awakens their core. After that, cultivation, practice, and understanding of the Nine Schools of Thought respectively, guide advancement," she explained. "Each realm requires breaking through barriers of comprehension and physical limitation, and depending on one's specialization, I've heard that some may even need to conduct rituals and even sacrifices."
As she spoke, Sylvi watched from several paces away, her gray eyes studying Keane with clinical detachment. Unlike the others, she didn't appear to be fooled by his act of ignorance. The calculated way he processed information, the way he probed for answers… these weren't traits of a man who had spent his life in the wild away from society.
'I'm a glitch in their world,' Keane thought, his ambition surging. 'My Infinite points make me a god in the making.' He kept his face curious, hiding his grin. "Fascinating," he said. "So, what realm am I?"
Elara studied him, her gaze lingering on his lean frame, as if seeing past his rough tunic. "Hard to say," she admitted, her tone softer. "I'm not baptized with mana, my strength's in trade." She then gestured to Mara and Sylvi, Mara approaching with waterskins. "Mara's in the peak of Intermediate, skilled but not elite. Sylvi's early Mortal realm." Sylvi's gray eyes met Keane's, cold and detached, like he was a speck in her world. Mara offered a shy smile, her auburn hair catching the light as she brought them water to drink.
'Intermediate and Mortal,' he thought, sizing up Mara and Sylvi.
Sylvi's silence intrigued him, her aura distant, almost otherworldly. 'No talking? How do they work with her?' he wondered, questioning what kind of magic would require the practitioner to never utter a word. 'Some monk-like vow? Magic signals?' Anyway, he didn't push. "How do you manage with her not speaking?" he asked Elara, his tone light.
Elara's smile was cryptic. "Sylvi's school values silence over words. She communicates… differently." Her blue eyes flicked to Sylvi, who handed Mara a waterskin without a glance. 'Weird,' Keane thought. 'But useful if she's in the Mortal Realm.' He imagined her fighting, swift and precise, like him. 'I'll figure her out.'
"You'll know your realm in Valewind," Elara said, her voice pulling him back. "I know a mage who can assess your mana. He'll tell you where you stand." Her tone was diplomatic, but her eyes held promise.
After they had something to eat, the caravan resumed, rolling through hills toward Valewind's distant city. Keane sat in Elara's wagon, her scent filling the air. They spoke of the kingdom, King Aldric's iron rule, Viscount Torren's ambition, barons scheming for land, knights patrolling trade routes, some religions within the kingdom…
Soon, night fell, the caravan camping in a grassy hollow. The fire crackled, casting shadows on the wagons.
At that moment, Keane sat alone by the farthest wagon, looking at his system, when Sylvi approached, silent as she had been the entire day, her long raven hair dark against her somewhat pale skin. She set a bucket of water down, her gray eyes meeting his.
'What's your deal?'