The orange glow shimmered down around him.
It wasn't weak. It burned steadily, casting warm light across the stone floor, flickering like the heart of a flame that had no intention of dying.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Murmurs followed low at first, then growing. Some of the priests exchanged glances. A few children stared with wide eyes, as if witnessing something extraordinary.
Noel stood motionless beneath the light, watching the colors dance across his own hands.
Of course it's not bad, he thought.
In terms of raw potential, this orange talent meant he could one day reach the level of a King-tier knight or a King-tier mage. In the Quelorin Kingdom, that placed him among the rising talents someone worth watching, worth investing in.
But in the Vespara Continent?
His smile came slowly, bitter at the edges.
Regular.
Nothing more.
In my previous life, I was a regular guy. And now… a regular guy again.
I guess it never leaves.
He didn't realize he was smiling until he caught his own reflection in the polished stone beneath his feet. A mocking smile. The kind that asked what did you expect?
Behind him, the crowd's reaction faded into background noise.
But not Noah's.
"Brother!" Noah's voice cut through the murmurs, bright and unfiltered. He was jumping up and down now, his small fists pumping the air like he'd just won a war. "Brother awakened a super talent! Did you see? Did you see!"
Amelia placed a gentle hand on Noah's shoulder, though her own eyes remained fixed on Noel.
"Mother," Noah tugged at her sleeve, still bouncing. "Is brother's talent good? Will I be able to get strong like him?"
Amelia's expression softened. She knelt slightly, meeting Noah's eager gaze.
"Yes," she said, her voice warm. "You will awaken a good talent too."
Noel watched them for a moment before turning back to the platform.
He already knew the truth about talent in this world.
It flowed through bloodlines.
His father and mother both possessed silver-tier talent. Their children would inherit something equal or, in rare cases, one rank higher. It almost never went lower. That was the law of inheritance, as certain as the turning of seasons.
Almost never.
But exceptions existed. Some were born with white talent the lowest only to evolve later through fate, rare resources, or divine treasures. Such cases were whispered about in the same breath as miracles. They were not easily obtained. Not something anyone could rely on.
It was also, he knew, the quiet truth that separated kingdoms from empires.
Blood, Power, Inheritance.
The strong grew stronger, The weak stayed weak.
Noel shook his head slightly and stepped down from the platform.
He walked toward his family, his steps steady despite the thoughts still turning in his mind. When he reached them, he found his mother watching him not with expectation, but with something softer. A quiet question in her eyes, as if she were trying to read what he was thinking.
He met her gaze and said nothing.
Amelia smiled.
Without a word, she gently handed Marvin still drowsy, still leaning against her to Lily, one of the household attendants. Marvin mumbled something but didn't resist.
Then she turned back to Noel.
And pulled him into a hug.
It wasn't brief but It was warm and solid, her hand pressing against the back of his head, her presence wrapping around him like a wall against the wind.
Noel stood still for a moment, surprised.
Then something in his chest loosened.
A warmth spread through him quiet, unfamiliar, and desperately needed.
When I came to this world, he thought, I knew nothing. I had nothing. This warmth… was the only thing that made sense.
He closed his eyes, letting himself sink into it just for a moment.
He was about to drift entirely when—
"Me too!"
Noah crashed into them both, small arms wrapping around his brother's waist with the full force of a child who had never learned restraint. "I want a hug too! Hug me, hug me!"
Amelia let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.
She opened her arms and gathered Noah in as well.
Noel found himself smiling. A real one this time.
The ceremony continued behind them as other children stepped forward to receive their own evaluations. Some lights were bright. Some were dim. A few drew genuine applause from the crowd.
Noel barely watched.
Instead, he found himself standing beside his mother, Marvin now awake enough to cling to his sleeve, Noah still buzzing with leftover excitement.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in Velmora.
The city was older than the barony, older than anything Noel had known in his previous life. Stone streets worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. Markets spilling over with goods from across the continent. Towering spires that caught the late afternoon light and turned it golden.
Amelia let them wander within reason. Noah dragged them toward a vendor selling candied fruits. Marvin, finally fully awake, pointed at a storyteller's stage and refused to move until he heard the ending.
Noel found himself watching them more than the city.
By the time they returned to the carriage, the sun had begun its slow descent toward the horizon.
Noah was already half-asleep against his shoulder. Marvin had given up entirely, curled on the seat beside him, breathing soft and even.
Noel looked out the window as the carriage began to roll forward, leaving Velmora behind.
The orange glow of the evaluation still lingered in his memory.
Regular, he thought again.
But this time, the word didn't sting as much.
The carriage rolled steadily along the road home, the afternoon sun now low enough to stretch long shadows across the fields. Inside, the atmosphere had settled into something quieter than the morning's journey.
Noah was asleep, his head resting against Noel's shoulder, one small hand still gripping the sleeve of his coat even in slumber. Marvin had curled up on the opposite seat, a thin blanket draped over him by Lily, who sat quietly near the door.
Noel stared out the window, watching the landscape drift past in shades of amber and gold.
But he could feel it.
A gaze.
Not curious. Not soft.
Sharp.
He turned his head slowly.
Amelia sat across from him, her posture relaxed, her hands folded in her lap. To anyone else, she might have seemed to be looking out her own window, lost in thought.
But her eyes were on him.
And they had been for some time.
Noel held her gaze for a moment, then looked away, a flicker of confusion passing through him.
Why is she looking at me like that?
He ran through the events of the day—the evaluation, the orange glow, the murmurs of the crowd, his own reaction—
Ah.
His mother wasn't watching him because of what his talent was.
She was waiting to see what he would do with it.
The realization settled in his chest like a stone dropped into still water.
Which path?
Mage or knight.
In this world, talent manifested differently depending on the path one chose. A King-tier knight and a King-tier mage both stood at the same peak but they climbed different mountains to get there. Knights honed their bodies, their mana cores, their martial will. Mages Cultivated their soul and mind, shaping fire and ice and force through incantation and understanding.
His orange talent meant he could reach the summit of either.
But he had to choose.
Amelia's sharp gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she saw the understanding settle in him.
"You caught on," she said quietly, her voice low enough not to wake the sleeping children.
Noel met her eyes again and gave a small nod.
Amelia tilted her head slightly, studying him with the patience of someone who had learned to wait for answers rather than demand them.
"Which path will you choose?"
The question lingered in the air between them.
Noel opened his mouth—
And stopped.
The truth was, he didn't have an answer.
Not because he hadn't thought about it, but because every time he tried to picture himself as a knight or a mage, the image blurred. Both felt distant. Both felt like something other people became.
He had spent nine years in this world measuring himself against what he lacked.
He had never once asked himself what he actually wanted.
"I…" He exhaled slowly. "I haven't thought about it deeply."
Amelia's expression didn't change. She didn't look disappointed. She didn't look surprised.
She simply nodded.
"That's not a bad thing," she said. "You have time."
Noel looked down at Noah's sleeping face, at the small fingers still curled around his sleeve.
"Not as much as I'd like," he said quietly.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Amelia was silent for a moment. Then she shifted slightly, leaning forward.
"Your father reached Advance knight by twenty," she said. "His brother reached Advance Knight by thirty. One became a baron. The other commands a garrison on the northern border."
She paused.
"Talent opens doors. But what you walk toward that isn't decided by bloodlines."
Noel looked up.
Amelia's gaze had softened completely now. There was something in her eyes he hadn't seen before not pride, not expectation. Something closer to recognition.
"You don't have to know today," she said. "Or tomorrow. But when you do choose…"
She reached across and placed her hand over his.
"Choose it because it's yours. Not because it's expected."
Noel stared at their hands for a long moment.
The warmth from earlier the hug, the quiet comfort returned, settling somewhere beneath his ribs.
"I will," he said.
Amelia smiled.
She withdrew her hand and leaned back, her gaze finally drifting to the window.
Noel followed her eyes.
Outside, the last light of day was fading, the sky shifting from orange to deep violet. The road stretched ahead, winding through fields toward home.
He still didn't have an answer.
But for the first time, the question didn't feel like a weight.
It felt like a door.
Noah stirred against his shoulder, murmuring something before settling again. Marvin's soft breathing continued undisturbed. The carriage creaked and swayed, carrying them forward through the gathering dusk.
Noel let his eyes close.
Knight or mage.
He didn't know yet.
But he would choose path with no regrets.