As the "siblings" walked through the city, Leyla talked.
A lot.
Riven didn't try to stop her.
Instead—
He listened.
And asked carefully selected questions at the right time.
By the time they reached their destination, he had already pieced together a rough image.
Alric hadn't always been like this.
Before—
He had been active.
Talented.
Someone who actually went out.
Spent time with friends.
With Leyla.
At thirteen, he had already reached the Early Inner Condensation Realm.
The pride of the family.
Then—
On his fourteenth birthday—
Something had happened during one of his outings.
An accident.
He lost his arm.
And after that—
Everything changed.
He stopped going out.
Stopped interacting.
Stayed inside the manor.
From the outside, it looked simple.
A fallen genius.
A broken heir.
Depressed.
But Leyla hadn't believed that.
She still visited him.
Still talked to him.
And according to her—
He wasn't depressed.
He was training.
Constantly.
More than before.
Relentlessly.
With no time to go out.
Leyla had tried to tell their father.
But Alric had stopped her.
The mother apparently also wasn't as caring as he'd first believed.
She always looked concerned.
Spoke like she cared.
But—
She had never even visited Alric.
Not once.
Not after he lost his arm.
Riven's gaze remained forward as he stretched out his hand.
…She's a good actor.
She had him fooled.
He'd also learned about the servants.
Most of them liked Alric.
Respected him.
Were worried.
But they stayed away.
The siblings father had ordered it.
Leyla didn't think he would usually do that.
Instead she had blamed someone else.
Her best guess was that their mother didn't want a "broken" son affecting the family's image.
The more Riven learned, the weirder this family seemed.
His hand touched the wooden door in front of him as his thoughts traveled back to Alric.
He's just a few months older than me…
Early Inner Condensation.
That was not a bad cultivation.
But certainly not enough to radiate the strength Alric had leaked.
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly.
Alric had to be stronger.
Much stronger.
How much did he improve since the accident?
And more importantly—
What actually happened that day?
He had a feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.
The noise jumped at Riven as he finally pushed open the door in front of him.
Voices spilled out.
Rough and rowdy.
The Mercenary Guild.
Riven stepped inside.
The atmosphere hit immediately.
Voices overlapped across the hall—arguments, negotiations, bursts of laughter that sounded closer to threats than amusement. The air carried the scent of metal, sweat, and something faintly bitter beneath it.
The interior was wide, built for function rather than comfort. Thick wooden beams supported the ceiling, and the floor showed signs of wear from constant traffic. Along the far wall, several large boards were covered in layered requests, some freshly pinned, others already curling at the edges.
Multiple counters stretched across the front, each occupied.
Different from Verdance.
Rougher.
Less… refined.
Riven's gaze swept across the room once.
Then he moved.
Leyla followed half a step behind, her eyes darting around the hall. She didn't try to hide her curiosity.
Riven stopped at one of the counters.
An older man with broad shoulders greeted him.
A thin scar running across his chin. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were sharp.
"Welcome?"
"I'm here to collect a reward."
The man leaned back slightly.
"Details."
"Spider extermination. Oakshade Village."
That was the name of the village he'd killed the spider at alongside Kade and Alina.
Riven reached into his robe, pulling out the wooden badge as if from an inner pocket. The silver insignia caught the dim light as he placed it on the counter.
The man's eyes flicked down.
Paused.
Then narrowed slightly before glancing at his young appearance.
"…Silver rank."
He picked it up, pressing a thread of qi into it.
At first Riven had wondered if he should hide his face while coming here.
But since Leyla had told him about Alrics cultivation he realized he didn't have to.
Alric having a silver rank badge wouldn't be weird.
The badge responded to the man's qi immediately.
A faint glow.
Verification.
The man gave a short grunt.
"Report came through," he said.
He reached under the counter and pulled out a small pouch, placing it down with a dull thud.
"Two spirit stones."
Riven picked it up.
Then—
The man tapped the badge once.
A faint shimmer passed across its surface.
"Twenty points added."
Riven took it back.
Twenty.
Eighty more and he'd qualify for promotion.
Meanwhile Leyla's gaze trailed behind his hand, having been locked to the badge just a moment before.
"…Silver?" she asked once they stepped away from the counter.
Quieter than before.
Riven didn't look at her.
"Yeah."
Leyla studied him.
Really studied him this time.
He looked younger than her brother.
Maybe just by a little.
But still—
Inner Condensation.
At that age.
Her brows drew together slightly.
…So he's not just some random replacement.
Riven turned his gaze toward the mission boards.
He stepped closer, eyes moving steadily across the entries.
Yes, the Silvercrest family would provide him with funds for the auction.
But relying on that alone—
Didn't sit right with him.
He didn't know how much he would need.
Didn't know what would appear there.
And if he came up short—
If he missed something important because of that—
Riven's eyes narrowed slightly.
He'd never forgive himself.
So he scanned.
One mission after another.
Extermination.
Escort.
Collection.
Most of it—
Useless.
Low rewards.
Or too time-consuming.
The only worthwhile ones—
Escort missions.
Long-distance.
Multiple days.
Riven's gaze lingered on one of them for a moment longer.
Then he looked away.
No.
He didn't have the time for that.
Not now.
He exhaled quietly.
Then stepped back.
"…Nothing useful."
Leyla tilted her head slightly.
"You're done?"
Riven turned.
"Yes. Let's go back."
She studied him for a brief moment.
Then nodded.
"…Okay."
The walk back was quieter.
Leyla didn't talk as much this time.
Only the occasional comment.
Short.
Half-hearted.
Riven didn't mind.
The silence was easier.
By the time they reached the manor, the sun had already begun to lower slightly, casting longer shadows across the courtyard.
They stepped inside.
And slowed.
A maid approached almost immediately, bowing slightly toward Leyla.
"Young miss."
Leyla clicked her tongue softly, but didn't argue.
She turned back toward Riven.
"See you another time, brother."
It was just a normal farewell.
But for a brief moment—
Riven froze.
And this time, he was facing her.
And she saw it.
Just a flicker.
Small.
But there.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
Before she could think further—
Riven turned.
Too quickly.
Why does she have to keep reminding me…
His thoughts slipped.
Drifted.
To another face.
A girl.
Around Leyla's age.
Laughter.
Water.
Sunlight reflecting off a quiet lake.
For a brief moment—
It felt real.
Then—
It twisted.
Darkened.
Riven's expression tightened slightly.
He cut the thought off.
He didn't want to see more.
Riven walked.
Faster now.
Back into the manor.
Through the corridors.
Past the servants.
Until he reached the room that had been assigned to him.
His room.
Alric's.
The door closed behind him.
The quiet returned.
Riven pulled off the outer robe, the fine fabric slipping from his shoulders, and set it aside.
Then he sat down on the bed.
Still.
Silent.
It took a moment.
A few slow breaths.
Then his thoughts settled again.
The tension faded.
Riven exhaled quietly and stood up.
Only now did his gaze move around the room properly.
It was… refined.
Spacious without feeling empty.
The walls were paneled with smooth dark wood, polished to a soft sheen. Subtle carvings ran along the edges—nothing excessive, but precise, deliberate. A large window let in muted light, filtered through thin silk curtains that moved slightly with the breeze.
A low table stood near the center, accompanied by neatly arranged chairs. Shelves lined one side of the wall, filled with books and a few carefully placed objects—nothing decorative without purpose.
As he looked next to the bed he found a perfectly straight nightstand lamp.
His thoughts turned back to his room in Jasmine Garden.
In all this order, he almost missed that annoying wonky lamp of his.
Almost.
Riven turned away from the bed stepped forward.
He pushed the table in the middle aside, sliding it toward the wall. The chairs followed, leaving a clear space in the center of the room.
That should work.
He removed the rest of Alric's clothes without hesitation, replacing them with his own simple training attire.
Then he stepped into position.
Feet grounded.
Shoulders relaxed.
And moved.
A kick.
Clean.
Controlled.
A punch followed.
Then another.
His thoughts shifted as he moved, settling into something familiar.
Vaern's Basic Martial Arts.
Every motion connected.
Flowing into the next.
No wasted movement.
Riven's focus sharpened.
This—
Was what he needed to improve next.