CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 150: WE ALL KNOW

Late Afternoon

The breeze tugged at the long strands of Thessalia’s hair as she stood beside him, her gaze fixed far beyond the treetops. The light was soft, golden with the haze of late afternoon, and for a time, she said nothing.

Then, her voice came low. Reflective.

"The Concordia Cycle you’ve been practicing... it’s not just any technique."

Lumberling turned to her, silent.

"It originated from Vaenyra’s bloodline. A sacred art passed down through her ancestors. Only a handful of families still keep records of it, Dukes at the least, sometimes royal lineages."

That made him blink.

"She gave me something that rare?"

"It was part of our deal," Thessalia answered, simply. "Besides, Lady Vaenyra doesn’t care for noble politics. She follows only one pursuit, strength. The people who gather around her? They’re not there because of blood or wealth. They’re there because they can keep up."

There was a shift in her tone then, subtle but unmistakable. Beneath her calm words, there was pride. And something else. A flicker of reverence.

"Well, pardon this little human who’s naught but a peasant," Lumberling said, cracking a dry grin.

Thessalia glanced at him, the corner of her mouth twitching, not quite a smile, but close.

"We elves live for a thousand years, Lumberling," she said softly. "Titles fade. Empires fall. What matters... is strength. Will. Endurance."

"What matters," she repeated, turning fully toward him, "is whether someone can stay."

Her eyes met his then, clear and sharp, like polished steel under moonlight. But her voice had softened.

"Not many can."

The wind shifted. The trees whispered around them.

’So it’s true... elves live for a thousand years,’ he thought, recalling half-forgotten paperbacks and fantasy novels from a world long gone.

"How could humans ever keep up with you," Lumberling asked, "if elves can live that long?"

Thessalia glanced sideways, her golden hair catching the last light of dusk. "You could," she said quietly. "Every time you ascend in your Knight path, your lifespan expands."

Her voice softened into explanation, like a tutor unraveling an old secret.

"A Knight One Stage can live up to two hundred years. Knight Two? Three hundred. Knight Three stretches to five hundred. A Knight Four can reach eight hundred... and a Knight Five?" She paused, letting it sink in. "One thousand two hundred years."

Lumberling’s eyes widened.

Instructor Sorin had only told him about Knight One. The rest, he’d assumed were exaggerated legends. But this... it came from Thessalia. And she didn’t exaggerate.

One thousand two hundred years...

’If I reach Knight Five, I could live that long?’ The thought came not as a fleeting fantasy, but as something dangerously real. Tangible. Desirable. His hunger to grow on the Knight path flared stronger than ever.

He turned toward her. "Then what about elves? Wouldn’t your kind live even longer?"

She nodded slowly. "The progression is similar for us. But because our baseline is higher... when an elf reaches Knight Five or the equivalent in magic, the Archmage stage, we can live for two thousand years. Sometimes more."

His breath caught. It felt like he was peering into a world just beyond his reach.

After a beat, he asked, "Then... what about Mage-Knights? If someone walks both paths... does their lifespan increase more?"

A faint smile touched Thessalia’s lips. "Not by much. But yes. Those who manage to rise in both paths tend to live longer than either alone."

She leaned back against a stone outcropping, her tone becoming more scholarly. "For example... a human who reaches Knight One and Magic Circle Four could live to around two hundred and fifty years. Knight Two and Circle Five? Four hundred. Knight Three and Circle Six might stretch to seven hundred."

She folded her arms. "Knight Four and Circle Seven... very few have reached that. But the records suggest they could live a thousand years. Maybe more."

Her voice dipped slightly. "Beyond that, it’s all theory. Rumors, really. Some believe a being who pushes both paths beyond their limits, Knight Five and an Archmage, could live over two thousand years. Though no one had achieved that yet."

Lumberling stared at her, silent.

This, all of this was more than she usually shared. It wasn’t just knowledge. It was a glimpse into the depth of her world. The kind of things nobles passed down in sealed scrolls and ancient books.

And yet she gave it freely.

To him.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Lumberling asked, his voice low, searching.

Thessalia’s gaze held his for a heartbeat too long. Then, with maddening frankness, she said, "Aren’t you planning to make us your lovers?"

The question struck him like a spear. He blinked, caught off guard, but her expression remained unreadable.

After a beat, he broke into a crooked grin and leaned in, their faces inches apart. "Do you want me to take you all as my lovers?"

She didn’t flinch. "Don’t kid yourself. You’re the one sending signals."

"Oh, I see," he said, laughing under his breath. "So it’s all my fault now? I’m the one chasing, the one dreaming."

A sigh escaped her lips, quiet, but full of weight. She turned her eyes to the night sky before speaking again.

"Even if no one says it aloud... we all know," she murmured. "Vaenyra. Aurelya. Me. We’ve been together for decades. We understand each other more than words. And somehow... we’ve all come to care about the same man. A human, no less." Her voice lowered, edged with a kind of frustration. "Your luck is absolutely absurd."

He smiled again, slower this time, less teasing. "Then I’ll take responsibility," he said simply.

She scoffed. "Oh, please."

But the scoff didn’t have bite, it was weary, amused, maybe even charmed.

"Back in the Empire, Lady Vaenyra had suitors lining up from all corners, humans and elves alike. Not just her. We all did," she added with a flicker of smugness.

"Oh?" Lumberling raised a brow. "Well, I guess I can’t compete with entire courts of nobles and warriors."

She tilted her head. "You can’t."

He chuckled. "Then I’ll leave my fate in the hands of my face."

That made her crack a small smile despite herself.

"You really are ridiculous sometimes," she said.

"And yet," he replied, "you’re still here."

This time, she looked away, not out of embarrassment, but because something in her expression turned serious again.