CHAPTER 465: ARRIVAL OF MAGNUS FAMILY

Everyone who witnessed it stood frozen in stunned silence.

The once-broken, half-collapsed mansion that had loomed like a corpse on the hill now gleamed like a newly built palace. The blackstone walls reflected the sunlight, the soulwood doors shone with fresh polish, and faint runes glowed along the edges of the windows and balconies, casting an aura of divine warmth. Even the air around the estate seemed to shimmer—clean, alive, as though the very curse that had tainted the land for generations had been erased from existence.

People from the nearby district began to gather at the gates, whispering among themselves.

"Is this real?" one murmured. "That place was falling apart yesterday!"

"I heard it’s been cursed since the Velmir family vanished," said another, clutching his cloak tighter. "No one’s even gone near it for years."

A few braver souls stepped closer, craning their necks to see past the frost-lined fence. The estate that had once been a ruin of ash and despair now looked pristine—reborn. Its tall spires reflected the morning light, and the gardens, once dead and tangled with frost, now glowed faintly with silver petals that swayed as though breathing.

"It’s like time reversed," someone whispered. "Like the day it was first built."

The guards from Averin’s upper district arrived soon after, summoned by the commotion. Even they, hardened by years of service, stopped short at the sight. The captain frowned, stepping forward. "Who owns this property now?" he asked one of the bystanders.

"The new owner," a merchant replied, eyes wide. "He bought it just yesterday. Some traveler... called himself Asher, I think."

"Asher?" The captain repeated the name slowly, glancing back toward the gleaming gates. "And he did this?"

"That’s what they’re saying," someone else added. "He went inside alone last night. No one saw him come out. Then the lights started. The whole sky turned red for a minute, and when it cleared—this."

The captain was silent for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. "If that’s true... this man isn’t just rich. He’s something else entirely."

By noon, word had spread through all of Averin. From the upper tiers of the city to the frost markets by the river, everyone was talking about the mysterious stranger who had bought the cursed Velmir estate—and somehow restored it overnight.

Rumors sprouted faster than truth could chase them. Some said Asher was a high mage from the Crimson Courts. Others claimed he was a divine purifier in disguise, sent by the gods to cleanse the city’s forgotten evils. A few whispered that he was a demon, or worse—a soul-eater who had devoured the curse itself to make the mansion his.

But no one could deny what they saw: the once-ruined manor now stood flawless and alive, like a relic of a golden age reborn.

That evening, as the sun dipped behind the silver horizon, the mansion’s windows glowed softly with a warm amber light. For the first time in centuries, smoke rose gently from its chimneys, and the sound of footsteps echoed faintly within.

From a distance, the people of Averin watched in uneasy awe.

"He’s really living there," a woman murmured.

"After everything that’s happened in that place?"

"Either he’s a fool..." one man said slowly, "...or something far beyond our understanding."

And as the night deepened, a faint golden pulse rippled once through the mansion’s walls—like a heartbeat. The watchers stepped back instinctively, a shiver running through them, though they couldn’t explain why.

High within the restored manor, Asher stood on the balcony, watching the lights of Averin glitter across the frozen plains below. His golden-red eyes reflected the city’s glow—calm, unreadable, and faintly distant.

"Well, now that it’s restored... it’s time to welcome my family," he murmured, turning away.

He walked down the grand corridor toward the main hall. It had already been lavishly prepared—a long table stretched across the room, set with a feast that gleamed beneath the warm chandeliers. The air carried the scent of rich wine, roasted meats, and spiced fruits. Everything looked perfect, ready for life to return to this once-cursed place.

Asher raised his hand, and a shimmering portal opened beside the head of the table. The energy rippled outward in soft golden-red waves, and from it stepped an older man with a dignified posture and weathered eyes—Arnold, Asher’s grandfather.

The old man blinked at his surroundings, almost choking on his breath as he took in the grandeur of the restored estate. "The mana density here... it’s so high, it nearly choked me," he muttered, his voice filled with awe. Then, looking around, he added softly, "So this is the higher realm? What a marvelous place..."

Asher smiled faintly and gestured again. One by one, more figures began to emerge through the portal—his mother, his aunts and uncles, their children, and the few he called his girls. Each arrival filled the hall with laughter, disbelief, and joy as they marveled at the impossible splendor around them.

Asher had brought only his closest family into this higher realm—his mother, his grandfather, his aunt and her husband with their children, his two uncles and their families, and the women who shared his life and also Emily who is like a mother to him. The great hall, once silent for centuries, now stirred with warmth and voices once more.

"Did you buy this house?" Arnold asked as he sat down at the head of the table.

Asher nodded. "Yes. I bought it so our family can reside here. If you all cultivate here, each of you will reach the Higher Being Realm far more easily than in the lower worlds."

They all exchanged surprised looks.

"I can already feel it," Selene—his aunt—said, closing her eyes briefly. "Just by being here, I can sense my soul advancing."

Another nodded in agreement. "It’s incredible. The energy in this place feels alive."

Maxwell, Asher’s cousin, glanced around the hall. "It’s a great place... but I guess there’s a dark story behind it, isn’t there?"

Asher exhaled softly and leaned back against his chair. "Yes. This manor once belonged to a noble family who mastered soul arts. They were powerful, but they were all wiped out overnight. Here, in this realm, power defines everything—rules are made by strength alone."

He looked toward the tall crimson windows, their glass still glowing faintly from the restoration.