CHAPTER 76: CHAPTER 10.4 : WHISPERS OF DIAR (1)

After the dramatic "victory" in the hall, Al finally returned to his new room.

The air inside was calmer now. Morning training had ended, the guards had dispersed, and the servants had gone back to their daily routines. That meant no more disturbances—except for the rising temperature as the dry season settled in.

Thankfully, this time the room had an air conditioner, which was definitely a plus.

Unfortunately, for some reason, he felt like he should ask permission before using it, as if he still considered himself a guest.

Al stared at the large AC unit hanging on the wall, wondering why he felt so hesitant to use the facilities when he was, in fact, the biological son of this household.

His shoulders slumped slightly, fingers tapping against his thigh, as if trying to shake off this irrational sense of restraint.

"Huff... what am I even afraid of," he muttered quietly before switching it on.

Cool air washed over him, relaxing the tension in his shoulders.

He threw himself onto the large bed, hugged a soft bolster pillow, and unlocked his phone.

"Finally... some peace and comfort."

He checked for any urgent news or messages, then opened social media to catch up on local and global updates.

Some spiritual incidents were still trending, but none of them had occurred near Makazhar. Most took place outside the city or even off the island. In fact, news from Makazhar seemed scarce in general, as if the place had been sealed off from public attention. That made Al narrow his eyes—something felt off.

His thumb froze on the screen, though his eyes kept scanning, reading between the lines.

Until...

One post caught his attention.

A piece of historical artifact—a torn fragment of ancient paper—had been stolen from the city museum.

A photo of it accompanied the post.

The paper was a dark, weathered brown, fragile with age. Ink strokes were barely visible, some parts illegible... and on it, a faint symbolic pattern that felt strangely familiar.

Al squinted.

Hmm... I think I’ve seen writing like this before... he thought, brows knitting as his thumb tapped the bottom of the screen unconsciously.

It was interesting, but it didn’t feel urgent enough for him to get involved.

"Probably just some old antique. People always make a fuss over stuff like that. Not every relic has something worth caring about," he murmured.

He kept scrolling—until the phone vibrated.

Incoming call: RINA.

"Oh, Rina. Haven’t been pestered by her in a while. Hopefully this isn’t something troublesome," he muttered, sighing lazily before pressing the green button.

"Hello."

"Aaaaalllll, want to come with me to visit Dila?" Rina’s voice was cheerful but insistent.

"No need to shout," Al replied flatly. "Since when are you and Dila that close?"

"Of course we are! We’ve known each other since we were kids. Just didn’t hang out much because of different hobbies. But lately, we’ve been hanging out together—with you. We’re a trio now, remember?"

"Since when was I drafted into your little gang? Why not ask Idham? Isn’t he closer to Dila? You’ve got plenty of other friends... or maybe go with Jogo instead."

"Don’t bring up Jogo. Please." Rina’s tone turned sharp. "As for Idham, we’re not that close, and he’s probably already visited her. My other friends are busy studying for the national exams. The only person I know who definitely isn’t busy studying... is you."

"You really think I’m that lazy?" Al frowned.

"Of course. Now stop complaining and come with me."

"Why don’t you just go alone?"

"She’s our friend, Al. Are you seriously not going to visit? And besides, would you really let a sweet girl like me go there all by myself?"

"Sweet, my foot. Who’d dare bother you anyway?"

"Hehehe, come on. Remember—we’re a trio."

Al stayed silent for a moment, lips pursed, eyes glancing to the corner of the room like he was weighing the pros and cons of a mission he didn’t want. Finally...

"Huff... fine. Now?"

"Next year. Yes, now!" Rina snapped.

"Okay, okay..."

The call ended.

Al sighed, staring at the bed he’d only just claimed, as if bidding farewell to his short-lived nap. Another morning’s rest stolen away.

He got ready and headed to the hospital.

---

By 10 a.m., Al and Rina stood in the lobby of a large hospital downtown. The marble floor gleamed like a mirror, white with subtle gray patterns. Cool air from the AC carried the faint, sterile scent of antiseptic. Large potted plants in white ceramic pots lined the corners, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise pristine atmosphere. Plush cream-colored leather chairs stood neatly along the walls, while crystal chandeliers reflected light across the polished surface below.

Rina—her slightly messy shoulder-length hair still managing to look stylish—walked straight to the reception desk. Her dark blue hoodie hung over a white T-shirt, paired with black jeans for a casual but neat look. Her fingers tapped lightly on the counter, betraying a hint of impatience.

Al stood a little behind her, dressed in a black hoodie with red patterns on the sleeves and faded black jeans. In his hand was a paper bag filled with fresh fruit and a small box of pastries—a modest gift for their friend. His grip on the handles was firm, though his expression remained indifferent.

While waiting, he scanned the surroundings: the quick steps of nurses, the beeping of medical monitors, the low murmurs of visitors exchanging news. His eyes drifted from the directional signs to the VIP ward doors... and then landed on a man in a brown hooded jacket and a white mask, only his eyes visible. They blinked too often, darting about like he was searching for—or avoiding—something.

The man sat hunched on a waiting bench, exuding exhaustion, but there was something off. His shoulders were slightly raised, ready to spring up at any moment, and his shoes pointed toward the exit.

From the man’s jacket pocket, Al sensed a faint magical energy—not negative, but suspicious. His gaze sharpened, pupils narrowing as his jaw tensed.

He began walking toward him, steps silent against the marble floor, curiosity pulling him closer.

But before he could get a better look—

"Come on, Room 301. Third floor!"

Rina tugged on Al’s arm just as he had taken a few steps forward. Her pull was strong enough to drag him slightly off balance, making him hiss quietly in annoyance at being interrupted, his attention shifting to her.

When Al looked back at the bench, the hooded man was gone. The seat was empty, leaving only a small crease on the cushion, as if he had stood up mere seconds ago.

True to his lazy nature, Al let it slide. Not every suspicious thing ended badly—especially since the man hadn’t radiated any negative energy. Sometimes life moved along just fine if you ignored certain unimportant things. Still, there was a faint itch in his thoughts, a sign he hadn’t truly forgotten the man.

And with that, the two of them headed toward Dila’s hospital room.

---

VIP Room – Dila

As soon as they entered, Rina waved happily, her smile broad and relieved.

Dila returned it with a warm gaze, though the dark circles under her eyes showed she wasn’t fully recovered. Even so, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by books and messy notes.

"Yo," Al greeted casually, placing the gift bag neatly on the side table.

"Oh, you guys came. Finally, some entertainment." Dila chuckled softly, shoulders easing at their presence.

"How are you feeling?" Rina sat beside her, leaning forward with concern.

"Better. But my parents are paranoid—they’re keeping me here until exams are over."

Al smirked.

"Good. Take the exams here. If you get out, you’ll just stress me out. Actually, maybe we should tie Rina here to keep you company."

Dila pouted, Rina scowled, and then both laughed, breaking the sterile quiet of the room.

The three chatted like normal teens—Dila and Rina gossiping while Al threw in sarcastic remarks now and then. Occasionally, he’d raise an eyebrow or shake his head as their stories got stranger.

At one point, he activated his vision, scanning Dila carefully. His eyes glimmered faintly, pupils dilating for a second.

No magic residue. No soul wounds. No trace of Helos. Good. Safe, he thought.

And so, the conversation continued.

After a while—triggered by who knows what—Rina suddenly brought up something strange.

"You know what? Just last night, some members from my community... and also from other martial arts groups... were attacked by a man in a black hood in the city forest."

Al fell silent, recalling yesterday’s exhausting incident and Rina showing up at the end.

"Luckily, no one was seriously hurt. But according to them... that guy wasn’t ordinary."

"Wow, really? That’s scary," Al replied, feigning panic with a hint of sarcasm.

"If I’d been there earlier, I’d have cut that guy in two! How dare he cause trouble in our territory." Rina’s eyes blazed with determination.

Al forced a smile, a little annoyed.

"Usually when someone says that, the opposite happens..."

"What do you mean?!" Rina snapped, her voice sharp. She stood up, clenching her right fist and raising it to chest level, her eyes blazing with confidence. "He may be strong, but he just got lucky. The people he faced were only a handful of beginner martial artists and mages. If I had been there, I would have wiped him out."

Al let out a sigh, no longer wanting to continue the discussion. Besides, there was nothing he could really say about it. He lowered his head slightly, holding back the comment that almost slipped out.

Dila raised an eyebrow.

"I get the martial artist part... but a mage? Are mages even real? Who is this guy? What does he want? Why... what... how—"

And as usual, Dila’s relentless curiosity flared up, bombarding them with a barrage of questions. There were just too many terms in Rina’s story that she didn’t understand.

"Stop, stop. I’ll explain one thing at a time," Rina cut her off, raising her hand like a traffic cop.

Dila nodded silently, trying to listen despite her growing curiosity.

"Many of them claim to be mages. But from what I’ve seen, they’re just shamans. They say... some of them can conjure fire from their hands, cast curses, summon ghosts. But I don’t believe in that stuff. The only energy I believe in is internal energy."

"Huh," Dila frowned. "You don’t believe in magic, but you believe in internal energy?"

"Of course. I’ve experienced it myself. Magic? Never seen it in person."

"So you have internal energy? What’s the difference from regular strength? I think internal energy is just a myth, like magic," Dila said skeptically, folding her arms across her chest.

"Of course. I wouldn’t be this strong if I relied only on normal strength. For example, being stronger than Jogo—there’s no way that’s possible with regular strength, right?"

"You’ve got a point. But maybe Jogo just held back because he likes you." Dila smirked.

"Tchhh..." Rina huffed in annoyance, turning her head away while folding her arms, her expression slightly pouting.

Dila laughed. "And what about the man in black?"

Rina’s brows furrowed. "I don’t know, I didn’t see it myself. But people say that man could take down dozens of people with a single strike. I think he’s truly dangerous."

"Really?" Dila was surprised by that, though her disbelief still lingered. "So that means he’s really strong?"

Rina nodded.

Meanwhile, Al, growing bored, pulled out his phone. But when he heard Dila call the man strong, his chin lifted ever so slightly, a hint of pride flickering across his face.

"But..." Rina continued, her gaze sharpening. The air in the room grew heavier, like it was bracing for an incoming explosion. A faint tension settled in, as if the information she was about to share was truly dangerous.

"I heard... that man isn’t human."

Dila’s eyes widened.

Al’s expression turned serious. His eyes narrowed, his breath stilled.

"What do you mean?" Al asked.

"I’m not sure how to explain it—it’s classified information. But what I can say is... he’s a man who’s no longer human. He’s dangerous, and he leads a group in black uniforms. People like them are called..." Rina’s voice trailed off, her eyes staring blankly ahead. The corner of her lips trembled slightly, as if the word was heavy on her tongue.

"DIAR."

Al’s voice was flat, yet it cut through the air like a blade, completing Rina’s sentence. The word hung there, cold and oppressive, like a shadow creeping in through the window. For a moment, the ticking of the clock seemed louder, and Dila felt a chill crawl up her spine.

Dila swallowed hard, her brows furrowing. "DIAR?"

Rina quickly turned to Al, her breath uneven. "How do you know about DIAR?"

Al smiled at the two of them, but there was nothing comforting about it. It was a thin smile, yet a dark shadow lurked beneath it—an unspoken threat. It was as if they had no right to hear this, and whatever he was about to do next could be very dangerous.

"Because I’m one of them," Al said coldly.

Rina’s eyes widened. Dila frowned, not understanding, but her instincts screamed that something was wrong.

"What... do you mean?" Rina’s voice trembled.

Al didn’t answer. He stood, stepping forward slowly, his eyes fixed on the two of them with a thin smile that seemed to freeze the air in the room.

No one knew what he would do next. But one thing was certain—a big event was about to happen.