Chapter 65: Epoch

An Invitation to the Feast

Wenger couldn’t quite recall. It probably wasn’t important, so she let it go. Instead, she considered inviting Vick to the evening banquet. He was a guest from afar, and she’d only cooked him one meal. With the festival in full swing, letting him join the celebration seemed fitting. Besides, after his grand oath, he’d agree if only to humor her, right? The thought felt odd.

Vick didn’t refuse, assuming she’d wanted to go yesterday but was too tired. Today was a good chance. His cabin remained simple, though he’d stored the furniture. Wenger glanced around twice before bidding farewell. Vick watched her silhouette until an apple tree blocked his view.

Her familiarity with his swordplay didn’t prove she was her. On the contrary. A century ago, his style wasn’t so refined. This only deepened his doubts. Old dismissed notions resurfaced, troubling him. Even if she hadn’t killed those people, the sword’s ominous aura was unsettling. Chantless magic, unguarded ventures into the magic-sealing forest… Given their bond, how should he think? To confirm his suspicions, should he stay by her side, watching? Such a thought felt wrong to him.

A Solitary Walk

Wenger strolled back alone, plucking a foxtail grass. Burdened with her own thoughts, how could she know Vick’s strange misunderstandings? From a “player’s” perspective, magic or combat skills were just input timings. Chanting spells? Unfamiliar nonsense. Yet, a breeze sometimes unlocked forgotten things. The stone forest trip’s greatest gain was forgetting herself—her true harvest was the resolve to wield that sword and near-infinite mana.

A mage’s mental strength and mana were vital, but mana capacity was straightforward. How many spells could she cast? Now, no limit. Her consumption was offset by the flower chain’s recovery, allowing uninterrupted flight even near depletion. How wonderful! Today’s gains were plentiful too.

A Stolen Sip

Stepping lightly, she landed on the platform. Instinctively, she grabbed her coffee but found it empty. Puzzled, she glanced at the gleeful Peach, setting the cup down. “Even if it’s bad, you can’t just drink it—I asked you to watch it!” Peach endured rough handling; its fluid body didn’t mind. “Peach, why is life so long…” Rubbing it, her mood eased.

Time to get serious—keep growing stronger. She placed Peach by the dragon egg, replacing the spent dragon vein stone. Sitting cross-legged, she meditated, slipping into focus. Each mental refinement built mana bit by bit, awaiting a future breakthrough. This routine was as natural as sleeping. Dull at times, but she often felt like an observer watching herself. A strange sensation. She’d grown used to it.

Evening Musings

Her long journey paused at dusk. Exiting meditation, she gazed at the sunset, tempted to flop into bed. It was a primal fear—darkness falling, urging people to hide. Pushing open the door, a fierce breeze hit, colder than ever. Snow was coming. So were distant guests. She didn’t care. She’d face everything head-on.

Wandering Maple Whisper Village alone, she wasn’t rushed to meet Vick. Their bond let them find each other anytime. She pulled out the crystal Aranold had forced on her. In the sunset’s glow, it shone like molten fire. Its purpose was unclear. Like [Agamemnon’s Scale], it wouldn’t fit in her inventory. God-tier artifacts made sense, but these stones? Perhaps they were powerful too.

A Search for Answers

Lacking information was frustrating. The Nameless Sword gave no clues either. Enchanting, forging? Breaking them might mean a trip to the Ember Epoch to confront Aranold. Noticing her thoughts, she stored the flower chain, its description clear: [Heartgrass Bracelet: …Ember Epoch, Aranold’s craft.] “Ember Epoch.” Was it in history books? She had no recollection.

Swiftly, she headed to the church’s library, a place she’d avoided. Her mental energy swept every shelf, scanning for “history” books. She found a few, but they seemed obscure. Why did Reila collect these? Flipping through, one thick book lacked even a table of contents—like a dictionary. Sighing, she used mental energy to skim multiple books. Half an hour yielded nothing. Expected, but still disappointing.

A Frozen Moment

The stone forest trip linked to the scale through time travel. Aranold said the god-tier artifact enabled their return. Could she revisit that era to meet them again? The scale, in her hand, gave no response—clearly, it wasn’t simple. Pinning hopes on unstable things was for fools or gamblers. Night had fallen; dusk was gone. Checking her watch, the hands were still. Frozen at some unknown moment.

No need for time now. She sensed mana shifting—Vick was likely coming. Her bold midday request and question had been answered with action. Relationships grew slowly, like bonds from her past. Yet, most people’s lives were too short. Brief encounters were precious, proving most were mere passersby. Few could truly bond with her.

It was contradictory. Knowing others’ time was short, she couldn’t accept rushed closeness. She craved lasting memories but struggled with mismatched rhythms.