CHAPTER 79: AFTERMATH

The warm golden light of his mental realm dimmed behind him, slipping away like a fading memory he could no longer hold onto.

And just like that—he was back.

Back to reality.

Auren’s eyes cracked open, lashes fluttering as the world came into hazy focus. A gentle breeze wafted through the tall windows, brushing against his face and stirring the gauzy curtains. It carried with it the scent of wildflowers—sweet and rich with earth, yet laced with that subtle, ancient mana signature unique only to Runewood. It smelled like memory... and the beginning of something new.

Change was in the air.

Not the pleasant kind, though.

The kind that meant things were shifting again—dangerously.

A new Chapter was turning.

And this one smelled like war.

Not a trial, not a game. A real one. And worse than before.

"How long was I out?" Auren murmured, voice hoarse as if dusted with the ash of a battle long gone.

He blinked up at the runic ceiling—elegant carvings of constellations danced faintly overhead, the light flickering with an illusionary glow. Even in silence, the ceiling whispered of old magic, of history written in stars.

But the quiet was unsettling. Too still.

No healers. No attendants. Just him, the bed, and a thousand unspoken questions pressing on his chest.

"Where... is everyone?" he whispered.

His body ached—every nerve felt like it was rediscovering pain for the first time. But more than the ache, it was the absence that unnerved him.

Then, a memory crept in.

The explosions and the roar of fire.

The blinding clash of mana and fury.

The blood. The screams. The power madness.

Auren gave a dry, breathless laugh, his chest rising weakly with the effort. "That wasn’t a ’Test of Fang’..."

He closed his eyes again, the memory playing back like a cruel joke.

"That was the Test of Balls..."

He’d spent days preparing. Training nonstop. Enhancing his gear, calculating risks. All of it in anticipation of facing a single Night Stalker. That was the bargain—survive one monster, and he’d earn his place on Elven soil.

One beast. Just one.

But fate had other plans.

It spat in his face and threw everything it had instead.

Instead of a simple trial, he’d been thrown into a meat grinder of King-tier nightmares.

First came that cursed lure pill- then the wild chase through the woods. After that, the White Alpha descended like a nightmare made flesh. Then the swarm of giant bees nearly turned him into a pincushion.

He crossed paths with Jaira... and Bonbon- the walking embodiment of chaos disguised as a bunny.

Then came the deranged duo: Kardel and Rhiki, who nearly got him killed and recruited in the same breath.

And finally, he found himself fighting shoulder to shoulder with the elven queen herself, taking on the final boss of burning lunacy- Vulkris.

It had been one impossible fight after another, a relentless gauntlet that pushed him far past anything he thought he could handle.

"Somehow..." he exhaled, blinking up at the ceiling, "...I’m still here."

As the memories played through his head, he started listing mental notes.

"I need to upgrade the MJ boots. Better elemental resistance and higher booster range. The DR module needs a performance lift. And mana control... yeah, I’ve barely scratched the surface of refining."

EEEK~

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the large oak door creaked open.

A soft silhouette entered, framed by the golden light from the hallway.

"J-Jaira?" Auren asked, struggling to turn his head toward her.

The figure stepped closer. "You’re awake..."

As she entered fully into the room, he recognized her features- more mature, a little sharper, but still Jaira. Her eyes held relief and... something else.

"Finally you are awake... How are you feeling, Auren?" she asked, her voice gentle with a tinge of relief.

"Oh, you know..." he croaked. "Just feel like I got hit by a meteor made of fists and lava. But hey, aren’t I cool to be still alive?"

She almost smiled. Almost.

Then her expression shifted to concern. "Listen- whatever you do, do not try to channel your mana yet. Not until the healers finish their evaluation."

"Too late," he said with a wince. "Tried it earlier. It felt like ramming my soul through a cactus wall. Extremely unpleasant experience. Its a zero over ten."

"Exactly why I’m telling you not to be an idiot," Jaira snapped, her voice sharp with worry. "The Goldhair healers tried everything—potions, chants, even runic transference. Nothing worked. Your body isn’t reacting to mana at all."

Auren blinked, stunned. "...What?"

"I don’t know the full details, just bits and pieces. Something about your mana signature being scrambled—maybe even disconnected? The healers will explain more once they get here. But until then—no magic. No gadgets. No sparks. Nothing. Just stay put and behave, alright?"

His heart dropped like a stone.

"What happens if I don’t?" he asked quietly, already bracing for the worst.

Jaira’s expression shifted. The humor was gone. Her tone was deadly serious.

"If you try to force mana through your system right now... there’s a good chance you’ll die."

Auren frowned, but deep down, he already knew. After what he saw in his mental space—that dormant golden egg—this all made sense.

Still, he pushed forward. "What about my parents? Robert and Marissa. Have you seen them?"

That question made Jaira pause. Her jaw tightened before she quietly sat down beside him. Gently, she lifted his hand and held it in hers.

"I heard from Mother that Robert is in Austerra."

Auren’s brows shot up. "Austerra? Why the hell would Father go there? He’s a wanted man—"

"I know," she cut in, nodding slowly. "But he left three years ago. He went to look for information about your missing mother. And... we haven’t heard from him since."

Auren stared at her, stunned. His thoughts spiraled.

"My... missing mother?" he echoed, voice barely audible. His brows drew together. "Wait—three years ago? Are you saying..."

Jaira nodded, her expression crumpling.

"Yes. Your mother disappeared that day..." Her voice wavered, breaking mid-sentence. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then spilled freely as she stepped forward and threw her arms around him.

"You crazy kid," she whispered, voice trembling. "You really scared us, Auren."

She held him tightly, as if afraid he’d vanish again.

"Auren... you’ve been unconscious for three years. Your body just kept getting worse. We thought..." Her breath hitched.

"We thought we were going to lose you."