As dawn broke, the glow of the blooming starset set through the window onto her eyes, rousing her from sleep.

Today felt different from the start.

Instead of grabbing breakfast and heading to the infirmary as usual, Fatma marched toward her uncle’s chamber, her resolve unwavering.

She knocked on the door but received no answer. It was locked. Standing there, the minutes slowly piled up into an hour of waiting. At last, she spotted her uncle approaching from the distant end of the corridor.

Murad, the first elder, was taken aback when he saw her.

“What are you doing here?”

He asked in confusion. There was something unsettling about her gaze that he couldn't quite place.

“Never mind. Let’s talk inside.”

The elder said as he placed his hand on the doorknob and channeled his energy into it. The door swung open, and he guided his niece to the cramped table where he usually worked. They sat down opposite each other. He leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin, ready to listen.

“You are not even going to ask how I’m doing?”

Fatma tsked in annoyance. Though she did not expect any more from her uncle to begin with. To her remark, Murad gave a soft smile. Fatma was freaked out by this as she had never seen the geezer make this kind of expression.

“How are you doing?”

He finally asked, his voice softer than usual. Fatma started, momentarily taken aback by the unfamiliar tenderness in her uncle's voice. She blinked, disoriented by the warmth of his smile.

“Ugh! Don’t make that face. It's disgusting! I feel disgusted now.”

She snapped, her tone dripping with disdain. She hated him for many reasons, yet at this moment, it did not matter. She had a more important task at hand.

“I want to start cultivating my soul to prepare for the military. Find me a teacher.”

“What!!?”

Murad snapped, his tone dripping with dismay. Had he heard it wrong? His niece was as cowardly as her mother. Yet she had an unyielding resolve etched onto her face despite her reddened but dry eyes. She wouldn’t cry.

“I know why you designated me to look after him; to gain control over the future head, right? If I got stronger it would only supplement your plans. I do not have any wish to conquer the labyrinth or strive for power; just protecting Damian would suffice for me.”

Her determination was nothing to scoff at. The elder could tell that she was absolutely serious. He could not bring himself to refuse her.

“Why would you go that far for the boy?”

He probed her. Why would the girl who had no desire for strength suddenly change her mind? Fatma’s eyes narrowed, her gaze hardening. She looked at Murad with a flicker of contempt.

“You wouldn’t understand. People like you discard the old in chase for the new. I’m not like that. To see that boy happy and healthy is all I need. I’m just scared of losing what I have.”

“Alright, I will find you a teacher. You might die, though. Come back tomorrow.”

“Eh?”

Fatma was stunned. She had never imagined it would be so simple. The greedy prick did not even ask for anything in return. But she quickly regained her composure, not wanting to lose the chance.

“You said it! You can’t go back on your promise!”

Fatma jumped from her seat and pointed her finger at the elder with glaring eyes.

“Who do you take me for?”

“The trashiest of trash!”

Fatma answered without a moment of hesitation. She then went for the door, and as her hand touched the doorknob, she paused abruptly just as she was about to leave.

“I will come back tomorrow!”

She turned slightly and threw over her shoulder. With that, she yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind her. The sound echoed through the room like an explosion.

Murad sighed heavily as he slowly closed his eyes, sinking into deep contemplations.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He stood up as he walked to the corner of the room. The elder threw his hand over to a dark wooden cabinet. His fingers searched for a moment before pulling open the creaking door to reveal a neatly arranged collection of bottles as he picked one from the very bottom.

“Time flies. Don’t you think so, Emel?”

Yan Murad's question hung in the air. He uncorked the wine and poured a deep red liquid into a glass. As he settled back into his cushion, the elder's gaze fell on the empty seat across the table. He took a sip, the wine bittersweet on his tongue. The wine was not enough to fill the void left by changing times and absence of loved ones.

He was once young and going, just like Fatma. Yet the harshness of the world had stained him. Still, Fatma was his last family member. If he could, he would want her never to seek the path of a seeker ever.

“Well, the least I can do is find her the best teacher.”

Tak. Tak. Tak.

The sound of knocking broke the silence.

“Come in.”

At the elder’s permission, Hakan entered the room. The elder was surprised because the very moment he resolved to find a teacher for Fatma, the best candidate appeared as if summoned by his words.

As Hakan approached the table, his posture and expression shifted. the slump of burden lifted into an upright welcome. A smile broke across Murad's face as he extended his hand in greeting.

Hakan had already settled the past debt with a few runes, so she was no longer indebted to the first elder. She was here on new terms, her eyes alight with entrepreneurial spirit.

“Hm? Did you drink?”

“Yeah, Mehmed has been hard on me in recent times.”

Murad responded in a solemn tone.

“I know, I know. He’s not in his right mind because of Damian and Mazalan’s effects. Anyway, I’ve come up with a genius idea. It’s something that will catch your interest.”

She began to outline her business idea, speaking with clarity and passion. Murad listened intently, nodding slowly.

“Hoho, I believe we can work this out, though it demands immense capital, doesn’t it?”

He said as he stroked his long, white beard.

“Right… Uh, thirty thousand is the ideal. But this is the bare minimum for a project this grand. As I’ve explained-”

“Sure. I’ll pay.”

“Huh?”

Hakan was stunned. She had never imagined it would be so simple. But she quickly regained her composure, remembering that she sat across from a greedy prick, no less greedy than Midas himself. He would surely relay some impossible terms.

Murad saw Hakan make a similar bewildered expression to what Fatma had shown. His smile deepened.

“What do you need in return? Other than future benefits, I can promise to return the invested money, wholly, in seven years.”

“Nothing.”

Upon hearing this, Hakan got annoyed as her cold glare deepened. Her indifferent expression shifted as her brows slightly knit.

“But…”

‘Ah, here it comes.’

She thought. She was prepared for some harsh conditions, but what came out of the elder’s mouth surprised her.

“I want you to guard someone. You know Fatma, right?”

“Your niece? Of course, I mean, she’s got quite the temper.”

“Teach her, lead her, and protect her. That’s all I ask.”

Murad clapped as he tore through the air with his hands. He slowly stretched them, mending a black portal into existence. He put his hand inside as he slowly released thirty life stones, one by one. These stones, different from their rank zero counterparts, which were the size of a pebble, were rocks the size of a human hand.

Hakan involuntarily gasped. She had rarely seen this amount of money stacked in one place. A whopping thirty rank one life runes!

She made eye contact with Murad as she then reached her hand toward those stones, her usually cold eyes gleaming with a golden luster, fitting the color of her amber eyes.

Just as her fingers grazed the pulsating rocks, a tight grip seized her wrist. After looking at Murad’s face, she was shocked. The elder had a cold, screaming expression. His usually composed eyes were as deep as the abyss.

“Make sure she lives.”

He hissed, his voice barely a whisper yet slicing through the air like a knife. This was a threat. Any harm to Fatma would come back on her tenfold, paid in a currency far more precious than the stones that glittered temptingly between them.

Hakan’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen the usual kind and nonchalant elder behave this way. Was this what was hidden behind the facade?

“Hahaha!”

Yet she laughed openly.

“Do you think I can’t even look after a kid? Who do you take me for?”

Hakan had instructed many cadets at the elite unit of the military. These were the most talented people in the whole of Heart Isle.

She pushed her hand further. A chill spread from her fingertips. Hakan willed the frost to thicken, encasing the entire stack of life stones in a solid, translucent ice box. The runes, now trapped in a frozen block, gleamed like trapped stars. With a grunt, she hefted the icy load.

To think that she would ever be able to swindle this old fox. It was a pleasing surprise for Hakan that this old man still had a soft spot in his heart.

...

The elder sighed, as he continued to sip on his wine that he had hidden beneath the shelf. Thirty thousand was a large sum, even for the first elder. Yet, Murad liked the idea of having an information guild in the clan. After all, he was always greedy, greedy for the prosperity of the Yan Clan.

“Damn kid.”

He still could not bring himself to understand why Damian did what he did. He had been tricked by the sly boy. Murad regretted underestimating the boy just because of his age.

Whenever faced with difficult tasks, Damian always used to say, ‘I’m too young for this shit.’

The elder sighed as he sipped the last droplets of wine. Why did he randomly remember that?

He was tired. He wanted to join his comrades. But it was not yet the time for that.

“I’m too old for this shit.”