The airship—or rather, the private jet—hummed beneath my feet.
It wasn't like an airplane from Earth, not even close. This was quieter, smoother, a sleek silver Gulfstream G700 that somehow combined high-tech aerodynamics with mana-propulsion in a way that shouldn't have worked but absolutely did.
I sat in a plush leather seat, staring out the window as the Celestial estate shrank behind us, growing smaller and smaller until it was just a dot against the sprawling landscape below.
Forests turned to hills as we gained altitude, the familiar green of the central-east giving way to rolling terrain. Hills turned to jagged peaks, the kind of mountains that looked like they'd been thrust up from the earth by some ancient force.
And slowly, slowly, the green faded, replaced by a blinding, unforgiving white that stretched as far as I could see in every direction.
I leaned back in my seat, taking in the cabin for what felt like the hundredth time. Polished mahogany wood panels lined the walls, warm and rich against the soft cream leather of the seats. Mana-crystals pulsed with a gentle blue light where they were embedded in the ceiling, casting a soothing glow over everything.
This wasn't just a vehicle; it was a flying mansion, complete with a master bedroom in the back and a fully equipped kitchen that I still couldn't believe existed on an aircraft.
First time flying in this world, I thought, watching the clouds drift by below us.
[Technically, you've flown before. On Earth.] Nova's voice shimmered in my mind.
That was different, I shot back. Those were metal tubes with wings, packed with people like sardines. This...
I looked around the cabin again, at the luxury surrounding me. This is a flying mansion.
[A very expensive flying mansion.]
Don't remind me. I shook my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips. My family really is disgustingly rich.
I glanced across the cabin.
Lyra sat in the seat opposite me, hands folded neatly in her lap, calm as always. She was looking out her own window, her expression peaceful in a way that made the chaos of the past few weeks seem distant.
I watched her for a moment, studying her profile. She'd been quiet since we boarded, but that was nothing new. Not in a weird way—just Lyra being Lyra, always observant, always patient, always waiting for whatever came next.
She had a way of making silence feel comfortable rather than awkward, like she understood that sometimes words weren't necessary. But something had been bothering me since we left the runway, a question that had been nagging at the back of my mind ever since she'd appeared at the airship steps.
"Lyra."
She turned, her emerald eyes meeting mine with that same steady gaze she always had. "Yes, Young Master?"
"Why did you come?"
She blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. "I am your personal maid, Young Master. It is my duty to—"
"No." I cut her off gently, shaking my head. "I mean, yeah, that's your job, and I get that. But you didn't have to come. Father would have understood. Mom too. You could have stayed back at the estate, rested, done whatever you normally do when I'm not around making everyone's life difficult."
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes dropping slightly as she considered my words.
"Young Master..."
"I'm not complaining," I said quickly, leaning back in my seat. "Really, I'm not. I'm just... curious, I guess. You've been with me through everything—the drinking, the fights, the tantrums. Me being a complete bastard to everyone around me, including you."
I met her gaze steadily, not looking away. "Most people would have quit by now. Asked for a transfer. Done literally anything else to get away from someone like me."
The silence stretched between us, filled only by the hum of the engines. The jet tilted slightly as it adjusted its altitude, but neither of us moved.
Then, softly, Lyra spoke.
"Do you remember how we met, Young Master?"
I frowned, reaching back into the fragments of the original Leo's memories. They came to me in pieces—a hot, dusty day, the smell of blood, and a girl with empty eyes that looked like she'd already died inside.
"The auction," I said slowly, the words coming as the memories surfaced. "A market in the lower districts. Human traffickers had picked you up after your village was destroyed in an incursion."
She nodded, her expression unchanged. She didn't flinch at the memory, didn't look away. "Do you remember what you did after?"
I searched deeper, pushing past the fog of borrowed memories. There it was—a ten-year-old Leo, small for his age but stubborn as a rock, dragging a silent girl through the Celestial estate while servants whispered and guards watched with curious eyes.
"You're free," the young Leo had told her, his voice cracking with that strange, childish sense of justice that kids sometimes have before the world beats it out of them. "Go anywhere you want. No one will stop you."
But she hadn't left.
"Why didn't you?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "Leave, I mean. You could have walked away and never looked back."
Lyra looked down at her hands, studying them like they held answers to questions I hadn't asked. "Because I had nowhere to go," she whispered, her voice so quiet I almost missed it.
"My village was gone. My parents were dead. Everyone I'd ever known was ash and bone, scattered by monsters I couldn't even begin to fight." She paused, collecting herself. "But you... you looked at me like I was a person. Not a slave. Not a tool to be used and discarded. Just... a person."
The original Leo.
I stayed silent, letting her words sink in. I'd spent so long thinking of the original Leo as a scumbag, a waste of potential who'd thrown away everything good in his life.
But here was proof—small, quiet proof—that somewhere underneath all that jealousy and rage, underneath the drinking and the fighting and the self-destruction, there had been a spark of something good.
"You changed after your core awakened," Lyra continued, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. "The jealousy... it consumed you, bit by bit, until there was nothing left of the boy who'd freed me. You pushed everyone away, including me."
She looked up, and for the first time I saw raw emotion flicker in those emerald eyes. "But I stayed. Because I watched you change once, and I believed—I hoped—that you could change again."
The weight of her words hit me harder than I expected, settling in my chest like a stone. She didn't know the truth—couldn't know that the "change" she was seeing wasn't the old Leo finding himself again, but a completely different soul wearing his face. She just... hoped.
[She's loyal, Host.] Nova's voice was softer than usual, almost respectful. [Not because of duty or obligation. Because she chose to be.]
Yeah. I swallowed hard, feeling that strange tightness in my chest again. I'm starting to understand that.
"Lyra."
"Yes, Young Master?"
"Thank you."
She tilted her head, confusion flickering across her features. "For what?"
"For staying." I looked away, out the window at the endless white below. "For not giving up on me. For being here even when I didn't deserve it."
Silence stretched between us, long and comfortable.
Then, softly—
"Young Master."
I turned.
She was smiling. Not the small, professional smile she usually wore, but something real and warm and bright that made her look years younger.
"Wherever you go, I'll follow. That's my choice, not my duty."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just nodded and turned back to the window, feeling that strange tightness in my chest grow a little warmer.
_
As the jet cruised at high altitude, I stared out at the vastness of Aetheris spread out below me like a living map.
This world was massive—far larger than Earth, with continents and domains that would have taken lifetimes to explore. The world of Aetheris was divided into numerous domains, each controlled by different races and powers.
There was the Human Domain, where we were now, but also the Elf Domain with its ancient forests and world trees, the Vampire Domain shrouded in eternal night, the Beastkin Wildlands where humans rarely ventured, and lastly the Dwarf Domain.
There were other domains too, ones that didn't belong to any single race.
The Holy Kingdom, Sanctyra, where people of all races gathered to worship the same goddess, their faith transcending the boundaries of blood and origin.
The Magic Tower City, Arcanum Spire, where mages went to study without caring whether their neighbors were human, elf, or something else entirely. Anyone seeking to learn magic without the baggage of racial politics could find a home there.
And then there was the Astra Union, an organization that operated above all of them.
The Astra Union Council held the highest authority in the world, a governing body that transcended national boundaries and racial divisions. The strongest individuals from each race joined this council, dedicating themselves to serving the greater good.
Their main purpose was maintaining peaceful relationships between the races and creating order in a world that constantly threatened to descend into chaos. Even kings and queens had to listen when the Council spoke—their authority was that absolute.
The Council had different seats, arranged in a hierarchy based on power and achievement. At the very top were twelve High Seats, occupied by the strongest beings in existence. My grandfather was one of them—a fact I still struggled to wrap my head around.
In the game, the Council had played a crucial role in the story, coordinating operations against demon followers and organizing responses to incursion gates that threatened to overwhelm entire nations.
There were also areas that hadn't been conquered by anyone, regions so dangerous that even the bravest explorers gave them a wide berth. We called them the Forbidden Zones—vast stretches of land where monsters and Abyss creatures made their homes, breeding and growing in power far from the prying eyes of civilization.
Sometimes, monsters from these zones would emerge, descending on human cities and towns like a plague, reminding everyone that civilization was just a fragile bubble in a world that wanted them dead.
We were currently flying through the Human Domain Continent—Astraea, a territory guarded by the four Great Noble Families: Nightshade, Ashford, Runeweaver, and Celestial, the one I belonged to.
The royal family, House Valerion, ruled alongside them, the king sitting on the throne while the four High Dukes managed their respective territories. Together, they governed Astraea, maintaining order and protecting their people from the threats that lurked beyond the borders.
Far to the south lay the capital, Astra Prime, where the Emperor held court and one of the Astra Union's main branch operated. The Celestial lands were situated in the central-east, the heart of the domain—wealthy, fertile, and politically important. But as we flew north, the landscape changed, becoming harsher, wilder, more "uncivilized" with every mile.
The Valdris Territory—my Uncle Theron's land—was the frontier, the last bastion of civilization before everything went to hell.
Beyond those mountains lay the Forbidden Zones, places where mana was so thick that normal humans couldn't breathe, where jungles and peaks housed monsters that could give even Transcendent-rank fighters a run for their money.
The Valdris family weren't just nobles with fancy titles and old money. They were wardens, guardians who held the Northern Rim, a fortress-line that kept the monsters of the Wilds from pouring into the civilized heart of the domain. Generation after generation, they'd stood their ground, fighting and dying so that the rest of us could sleep soundly at night.
This world was beautiful in a way that Earth could never match, with its glowing mana-crystals and floating cities and races. But it was also a death trap for the weak, a place where power meant everything and weakness meant death.
"We are beginning our descent, Young Master," Lyra's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I felt it in my stomach—that familiar drop in pressure as we lost altitude. Below us, a fortress emerged from the swirling snow, growing larger with each passing second. Massive stone walls rose from the mountainside, looking like they'd been carved directly from the rock itself.
Towers pierced the clouds, their peaks lost in the white haze, and banners bearing the Valdris Crest—a sword wrapped in frost and wind—snapped violently in the gale.
This place didn't breathe luxury like the Celestial estate. It breathed war, cold and hard and unyielding.
The jet touched down on a specialized landing pad, the mana-thrusters hissing as they powered down. The vibrations stopped, leaving only the howling of the wind outside.
The ramp lowered.
Cold air hit me like a physical punch.
It wasn't just temperature, not the kind of cold you could prepare for with a warm coat and a positive attitude. This was aggressive, a living thing that wanted to remind you that you didn't belong here, that you were soft and weak and would never survive.
"Holy—" I coughed as my breath turned into a thick cloud of ice crystals.
[Host, your Vitality is currently Rank F. I suggest you move quickly before your lungs freeze.]
Thanks for the tip, I thought back, pulling my heavy fur coat tighter as I stepped onto the stone platform.
Waiting at the bottom of the ramp were four figures.
Theron Valdris stood at the front, platinum hair whipping in the wind, blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to check if I'd forgotten to put on pants.
For a second, just a second, I saw something flicker in his gaze—not coldness, not anger, but something softer. Worry, maybe. Like he was scared this might be another disappointment, another failure wrapped in family name.
Behind him stood a woman with a warm smile that somehow cut through the freezing cold—Aunt Seraphina, her silver hair pulled back in a practical style. And beside her, two silver-haired kids, bundled up so tightly they looked like miniature snowmen, peeking at me with undisguised curiosity.
I walked forward, my boots crunching in the snow.
"Uncle Theron."
He looked at me for a long moment, studying my face like he was searching for something. Then he sighed, a long exhale that turned to mist in the air.
"You look like shit, Leo."
I blinked, completely caught off guard. "…What?"
"You're too thin." He gestured at me vaguely. "And you're already shivering like a newborn puppy. Your mother's going to kill me if you get sick on my watch."
That was not the greeting I'd expected. Not even close.
Aunt Seraphina laughed softly, a warm sound that seemed out of place in the frozen wasteland. "Theron, be nice to the boy. He just got here."
"I am being nice." He glanced back at her, then at me again. "If I wasn't being nice, I'd leave him out here to freeze."
"Charming as always," I muttered under my breath.
His lip twitched. Just barely. "Come on. Let's get you inside before you actually turn into an ice sculpture."
He turned and walked toward the fortress, his strides long and confident. But not coldly—just... like he didn't know what else to say, like he'd used up his quota of words for the day and needed to recharge.
Seraphina smiled at me, that same warm expression. "He's happy you're here, Leo. He just won't admit it. Give him time."
The twins chose that moment to break free from whatever hold their mother had on them, rushing toward me with the boundless energy of children who'd never experienced a day of hard training in their lives.
"Are you really big brother Leo?" the boy demanded, silver hair sticking out from under his hood. Roran, if I remembered correctly.
"Roran, don't be rude!" the girl—Eira—scolded, though her eyes were just as curious.
"I'm not being rude! I'm asking! There's a difference!"
I almost laughed, the sound escaping before I could stop it. "Yeah. I'm Leo."
Roran's face split into a wide grin. "Cool."
I looked ahead at Theron's back. He'd stopped at the fortress entrance, pretending to examine something on the wall, but I caught him glancing our way.
Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
I walked forward, Lyra falling into step beside me, the twins trailing behind and firing off questions faster than I could answer.