The trio left Medusa’s domain in tense silence, stepping beyond the forest bounds. Lux waited for them at the edge of the territory, arms folded, an unmistakable glare fixed on Valor.

“How many times must I say it?” Lux snapped, annoyance flaring in his violet eyes. “Stop meddling in every hero’s journey—it’s infuriating.”

Valor offered a mischievous shrug, golden horns gleaming. “What can I do if you keep choosing my descendants?” he countered with mock innocence. “Am I not allowed to be a doting great-grandfather to my bloodline?”

A sharp scoff escaped Lux. “If you truly cared, you wouldn’t have sired countless heirs, you damned womanizer,” he retorted. “Let’s skip the pretense. You’re here to ask about becoming a Great Old One, aren’t you?”

“So the answer is no?” Valor inquired, calmly meeting Lux’s glare.

Lux inclined his head in a curt nod. “Obviously. I refuse to increase our number beyond five.”

With that settled, Valor’s tone shifted to idle business. “Then I have another matter. Since nearly every lord in Álfheimr is dead—save for the Starbells—I must repossess the remaining land.” He cast a sidelong glance at Noah, who bristled at once.

“I won’t allow that!” Noah said, voice taut with anger. “My family’s land is mine to rebuild.”

Valor’s grin showed a hint of sadistic humor. “How quaint. Very well. Seize the entire continent if you’d like. I’ll give you seven years. Should you fail, I’ll rip off your jaw.”

Noah’s jaw clenched, but he refused to waver. “Fine. I’ll reclaim my inheritance and more.”

Valor merely laughed. “In that case, I’ll begin migration to your lands within a year. Build a worthy capital by then.” And with an imperious flick of his horns, he vanished, leaving Lux, Noah, and the others in the gathering hush—one threat ended, yet an even greater challenge set in motion.

Ava let out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hey, Noah… are you an idiot?” she muttered.

Noah stiffened at the blunt question. “What’s wrong with wanting to protect my territory?”

Lux’s exasperation mirrored Ava’s as he folded his arms across his chest. “Making that kind of proclamation, especially to Valor, is reckless,” he warned. “He’ll actually carry it out if you fail, you know.”

A wry grimace flickered across Ava’s face. “It doesn’t help you also made a bet with the Slaughter Witch,” she reminded him, catching his gaze with concerned eyes.

Lux’s brows shot up, genuine surprise etching his features. “The Slaughter Witch? How—in a few hours, you’ve somehow landed two of the most dangerous deals imaginable.” He paused, almost impressed. “Care to fill me in?”

A hint of resignation weighed in Noah’s voice. “She wants me to become the next Sword Master,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I… might have agreed to her conditions.”

A soft chuckle escaped Lux, though it held a note of genuine astonishment. “My new hero is quite the glutton, it seems.” His gaze lingered on Noah’s arm, where faint sigils of divine power glimmered. “How many gods’ boons do you plan on gathering? You’ve got me, the God of Hope… plus that parting gift from Cyrus, the Boon of Time. Now you’re angling for the God of Monsters’ reward if you finish this mission. And you’re eyeing the Boon of Combat from the Slaughter Witch as well?” He let out a low, half-admiring laugh. “Truly greedy for a so-called hero, I’d say.”

Noah’s stance firmed, his draconic eyes flashing with quiet determination. “We faced Blank—he was beyond strong. If I want to stand a chance next time, I need every route, every power I can get.” His voice held no shame, only a raw need. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Lux’s gaze fell on Noah, his violet eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “So… do you have proof you killed Medusa?”

Noah nodded, holding out the severed serpent—its scales dull from the passage of time. “Yes, right here,” he said, trying to steady his voice.

A faint huff escaped Lux. He took the snake, turning it over in his hands. “You’re a poor liar, Noah. It’s obvious you spared her, but this is enough evidence for our purposes,” he remarked. “Sicil isn’t here, but he left me a token to grant you his boon. Hold out your arm.”

With a muttered sigh, Noah reluctantly complied, lifting his sleeve. Lux extracted a small vial, uncorked it, and let a single drop of blood fall onto Noah’s arm. Instantly, a new tattoo began to form—fusing with the two existing marks from Lux and Cyrus. As the ink settled, the three designs merged into one intricate emblem: a clock encircled by a single angel wing and a single devil’s wing.

“Let’s see…” Lux mused, studying the fresh tattoo. “I don’t fully know what Cyrus gave you, but my boon allows you to create miracles—at the cost of your life if you use it. Sicil’s enhancement draws power from defeated monsters; by absorbing their dark energy, you won’t have to rely solely on gathering causality from your allies’ wounds.”

Noah frowned at the foreboding design, tension in his voice. “Another risky ability? Why hand me something so… unmanageable?”

A light shrug from Lux, though amusement played at the edge of his lips. “One day, it might save you. Besides, I can’t let you become too powerful before you master the basics.”

Noah exhaled, fatigue weighing on him. “Fine. Fine. I’m exhausted anyway—let’s head back.”

Ava stepped closer, the usual brightness in her tone returning. “Agreed. Enough drama for one day.” She cast a final glance at Noah’s newly fused tattoo, unease, and curiosity mingling in her expression.

Back in Starbell territory, Noah, Ava, and Lux gathered alongside Elder Novis to recount all that had transpired—Adam’s betrayal, the Emperor’s and Slaughter Witch’s alarming wagers, and the multiple divine boons Noah had acquired in such a brief span. The elder’s furrowed brow conveyed the weight of these revelations.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Novis tapped his cane softly against the ground, deep in thought. “I see,” he said at last. “If we’re to establish a temporary territory for you, materials will be no issue, but managing finances is paramount. We’ll need a reliable administrator.”

Standing nearby, Orist offered a suggestion, his voice tinged with quiet confidence. “I do have a contact in mind—someone who’s seeking employment for his brother. The man is an instructor at Castletown and currently, the Fist King, Leonardo Jupiter, his brother's name is Charlie.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed with mild suspicion. “Is this friend also prone to betrayal? After all the stunts we’ve seen…”

Orist shook his head. “No, no. The real concern is his brother’s drinking problem—he’s been in a bad way since his wife nearly died. Leo asked if we could help him sober up and, if possible, offer him a job.”

A thoughtful look crossed Noah’s face. “My power can reduce grief and addiction, but only if the person’s willing to change will it have any effect. I’ll do what I can,” he said, voice steady with resolve.

“Thank you,” Orist replied, relief flickering in his eyes. “You and Ava will head there tomorrow, if that’s all right.”

“Tomorrow?” Noah echoed, brow lifting. “That’s—rather short notice.”

“The sooner, the better. We can send you through our teleport gateway. I’ll begin reconstructing your territory while you’re gone,” Orist explained. “It’s on the continent of Muspelheim, mind you—hot as a blazing forge, so be prepared.”

Noah nodded, exhaling a resigned sigh. “All right. But before we go, could you tell us more about this man? I’d like as much detail as possible.”

Orist smoothed a wrinkle on his tunic, collecting his thoughts. “His name is Charlie Jupiter. His ability is called Provoker—he grows stronger the angrier his opponents become. He used to head the finances for the lord of that territory, but after his wife nearly died, he quit. He has two children, June and Mars, both around seven.”

“Understood,” Noah said, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. “Then I guess Ava and I leave tomorrow. Let me rest up first… I can already tell it’s going to be a long day.”

Noah stepped into his room, expecting the familiar peace after a long, tense day. Instead, the whistle of a bullet sliced through the air an instant before it embedded into the wall behind him. He jerked to the side, heart pounding in shock. Before he could retreat, a roaring wall of water rose at his back, barring escape.

Standing in the middle of the room was a man in a sharp, tailored outfit—a crisp white button-up shirt with a red tie, black pants, dress shoes, and suspenders. He wore black gloves, and in his hands, a shotgun still smoked faintly from the shot. Most striking of all was the deer mask atop his head, its dark eyes staring blankly, giving him an eerie, animalistic presence.

“Hello, Mr. Fafnir. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, placing a gloved hand on his chest with the air of a polite greeting.

“Who the hell starts a conversation by trying to shoot someone?” Noah snapped, breath still unsteady from the near miss.

The man tilted his head apologetically. “My apologies,” he replied, voice calm and controlled. “I merely wished to check something. My name is Fraser Haas, here as a representative of Castletown. We noticed your absence at our entrance exam and wanted to confirm why you didn’t attend.”

Noah, still poised to defend himself, let out a tense sigh. “That’s all well and good, but could you take off that mask? It’s—creepy.”

With a short nod, Fraser removed the deer mask. Beneath it, his flowing blonde hair and delicate features could easily be mistaken for those of a woman, yet his icy blue eyes carried a chill that suggested someone who had peered into very dark places.

“Better?” Fraser asked, setting the mask aside. Then, more brightly, “So, Mr. Fafnir, we at Castletown Academy would be delighted to have you enrolled, should you still wish it.”

Noah’s shoulders slumped slightly at the offer. “I would’ve jumped at that chance before—before all this.” He glanced away, thoughts drifting to the hero’s path he’d been forced onto. “I have obligations now, as… the hero. I’m sorry.”

Fraser gave a gracious nod, though disappointment flickered across his face. “What a shame. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do if you’re set on other duties. However,” he continued, producing two small cards from his coat pocket, “should you ever need assistance, I recommend contacting my apprentice. She’s quite skilled. She’s mostly active in Midgard, mainly around her hometown, Valewind—the site where the Third Apocalypse died, now a… unique tourist attraction.” He pressed the cards into Noah’s hand.

The first card bore Fraser’s own contact info, and a small deer emblem on its back. The second belonged to Cecile Lovecraft, a bounty hunter specializing in pirate hunts—an octopus symbol etched on the back.

Noah’s gaze flicked over them. “Thanks,” he said softly, tucking them away. “I’m not sure when I’ll call on her, but I appreciate the option.”

A slight smile curved Fraser’s lips as he extended a polite handshake. “If ever the hero business becomes too dull”—he let out a short chuckle—“perhaps I can show you the excitement of bounty hunting.”

Noah managed a dry grin. “Maybe—if I’m ever that desperate for cash,” he joked.

Just then, the barrier of water vanished, and Ava strode into the room. The moment she spotted Fraser with his shotgun, she hurled two daggers in quick succession. Fraser leaped sideways with fluid grace, avoiding them, though surprise flashed across his features.

“Ah, Miss Starbell,” Fraser greeted with a cordial dip of his head once he recovered. “I take it you’re also not attending the academy this year?”

Ava’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment as she lowered her guard, glancing at Noah. “W-what? No, I’m… staying with Noah.” She hesitated, then added more firmly, “I’m sticking by him—no matter what.”

Fraser offered a polite nod. “Understood.” Then, lifting his shotgun over his shoulder, he cast one last unreadable look at Noah. “I’ll be on my way, then. Best of luck, hero. If you change your mind,” he tapped the business cards in Noah’s hand, “you know where to find me.”

Fraser hefted his shotgun, its barrel still smoking faintly. With a calm, casual aim, he fired once at the window behind him. Shards of glass sprayed outward, and he vaulted through the gaping hole, turning mid-leap to offer a jaunty salute toward Noah.

“Bye-bye, Mr. Fafnir,” he called, laughter echoing in the night air as he vanished beyond the sill. “I look forward to our next meeting!”

A stunned silence filled the room. After a beat, Noah let out an incredulous chuckle. “So maybe skipping out on the academy was the right call,” he said under his breath. “If they’re all as nuts as that guy—”

“You’re probably right,” Ava teased, surveying the buckshot hole in the wall and the scattered broken glass. “Though his visit does leave this room… uninhabitable.” She slid her arm through Noah’s, brightening with mischievous triumph. “Seems you’ll have to stay with me, then.”

Just as she tugged Noah by the sleeve, however, emerald chains snaked around his neck, yanking him to the floor with a heavy thud. Orist loomed above them, an aura of seething parental anger in his gaze.

“We have plenty of spare rooms, brat,” Orist snapped, tightening the chains. “Choose one of them or I’ll find you a comfy coffin to sleep in.”

“But Dad, he won that bet,” Ava protested, cheeks coloring, “and you said—”

“That may be true,” Orist interrupted coldly, “but under my roof, you two will not share a room.” He gave a sharp tug on the chain, hauling Noah like a hapless prisoner.

Ava sputtered in protest while Orist dragged a defeated Noah across the corridor