The couple I met in the alley had a sick child. The doctors said the child was going to die in a month at best. But where the doctor promised death, the city’s best healer declared otherwise, saving the child’s life. That was a lead.

Likewise, there were some other leads I’ve found. People who could help me.

It had been a few weeks since my return to Romer City, and I’d spent them looking for people who could help me with my current cause, while at the same time, cultivating every day to make sure I was increasing my time in at least one way.

The weight of uncertain death still gnawed at me like a parasite. Each day, each hour, felt like sand slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t help but wonder how much I had left. My life felt like a ticking clock, the seconds draining away faster than I could keep up with.

I didn’t want to sit around and wait for the end. I had to do something, anything, to get a grasp on how much time I had left and, more importantly, how to extend it. That was the reason I spent those days digging through every connection I had, whispering questions to people I knew from Iskandaar’s memories, and gathering information on anyone who might know something about lifespan and how to measure it.

I had compiled a list of people who could hold the key to my survival. I wasn’t sure, but I had some hopes.

The first name on the list was Sir Noire, a well-known fortune teller with a lavish parlor in Romer City. He was a man of mysterious origins, draped in silks and surrounded by the scent of exotic incense, apparently. His clients swore by his predictions, claiming he could see the threads of fate as clearly as one might read a book.

If anyone could tell me how much time I had left, it was him.

The second name was Sister Althea, a well-known healer who lived in a remote area of the city. She wasn't just any healer; she belonged to the Church of Amariel, the Goddess of Healing, Compassion, and Benevolence, which was located in the city's northern district. I figured she'd be the one to detect the life force within me. Maybe she'd even have some remedies to strengthen it and give me more time.

Then there was Master Lydios, an eccentric runemaster who lived in a tower overlooking the western hills. He was said to be a genius regarding inscriptions and magical constructs, his runes capable of tapping into the very essence of life. Runes, after all, were ancient magic—far more precise and reliable than vague prophecies or risky potions. He might be able to see my lifespan.

Lastly was the man titled the Cursed Scholar. If local rumors were to be believed, he was once a famous academic who was driven insane by forbidden knowledge and cursed to live in the shadows of normal men. He’s supposed to be some hobo bastard living deep within the city's underground sewer system. People go around saying that he had knowledge about death and life that no sane person should ever have. Dangerous? Absolutely. But I was running out of options, and his knowledge could be the final piece of the puzzle.

I stared at the list I had written out, my fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “I guess I’ll start from top to bottom…”

I suddenly regretted not asking Amelia or the Matriarch for their advice when I had the opportunity. Both of them might have had answers, particularly the Matriarch, who possessed ancient wisdom and experience. However, it was too late to dwell on that now.

What mattered was moving forward.

With a sigh, I ticked off Sir Noire's name—he’d be my first stop. I pushed myself up from the chair, feeling my tension ease a little. Knowing that at least I wasn’t sitting around waiting for death anymore felt good.

"Let's go," I said, moving toward the door. "We gotta look around."

Lilian, who had been scrubbing the floor with a broom with a bored expression, sprang awake. Her brow furrowed in uncertainty as she laid down the broom. "Where are we going?" she said, her voice interested.

I looked at her. "It's just a small errand. We are going to meet some intriguing folks, that is all."

She didn't appear completely convinced, but she didn't protest either. As we left the room, she fell into step beside me, and the heavy door closed softly behind us.

Hopefully, I was going to receive some answers this time.

****

The tent was poorly lit, with flickering light from a few candles producing long, shifting shadows across the canvas walls.

I sat cross-legged on the ground, above a rough and worn fabric. A man stood across from me, on the other side of a low wooden table, crouching over a crystal globe.

His robes were dark, almost black, and his long, bony fingers caressed the globe as if it held the secrets of the universe. His face was obscured by a hood, so it was hard to figure out his expression, but I could see the glint of his eyes that darted between me and the orb.

"Ah, I see... I see..." he murmured, his voice hoarse and dramatic. He drew closer to the globe, his eyes narrowing as if he were attempting to pierce the mysteries of time and fate. "You... have come for answers, young one. Answers that exist beyond the barrier of the mortal world."

I arched my brow at the useless thearitics. I was starting to feel skeptical and irritated now. "I figured so. Can you see it or not?"

The man's fingers twitched, and he let out a low chuckle that was clearly meant to be sinister but ended up sounding like a dry cough. "Everything will be revealed... all questions will be answered. But first, you must pay tribute to me... in silver... that I'll use to earn these secrets."

Ah, of course. I should have known.

I pulled out a small silver coin, flicking it toward him with a sigh. It landed with a clink on the table between us, and the man snatched it. He immediately slipped it into his robes with practiced ease.

His fingers returned to the globe, and he began to hum under his breath, a tuneless drone that grated on my nerves. He swirled his hands over the orb in elaborate gestures, his voice rising and falling in what I assumed was supposed to be some kind of incantation.

After what seemed like an age, he finally spoke. "I see dark, frightening shadows encircling you. Your path is clouded with doubt. There is... danger in your destiny... a huge menace that threatens to devour you."

I rolled my eyes. "Excellent. Have you got anything specific, or just these generic warnings?"

The man paused briefly when his dramatics faltered, then promptly regained his composure. "The spirits remain evasive…. But they speak of a curse on your life. Yes, a curse that shortens your life... unless you can discover how to dispel it.”

I leaned forward, suddenly hopeful. "Okay, and how do I break it?" I was starting to mistrust his credibility, but now he mentioned something good.

The man stopped, apparently waiting for time. "Ah... that... is beyond my eyes. But do not be afraid! With my instruction, you may still—"

The sound of my fist hitting the table spread through the tent, and splinters flew from the wood. The man opposite me recoiled in fear as his cowl drooped just a little, exposing his unwashed, unclean face. My eyelids twitched. "You're a scammer, aren't you?" With a low, menacing voice, I growled. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

He struggled to recover, and a hesitant laugh came out. "N-no, I assure you, I—"

His words were cut short by me. I swung my palm out and smacked him square in the face. He squatted backward, gripping his cheek, and yelped as the crack reverberated through the tent.

"Next time, I won't tolerate this," I grumbled, standing up. I spun around and pushed the tent flap aside, stomping out into the sunny daylight.

Lilian was standing by a tree outside, looking relaxed with her arms crossed. When I approached, she raised an eyebrow, showing a mix of curiosity and concern on her face. "Any progress?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Nope. Another dead end."

She looked at me silently and nodded. After a moment, we were walking together, surrounded by the bustling noise of Romer City. Vendors called out their offers, children weaved through the stalls, and the comforting smell of fresh bread mixed with the sharp tang of the nearby river. But everything felt muted and distant for me, as if it belonged to a world I was no longer fully a part of. It made sense. I was about to join the underworld.

I took a deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in my chest. It had been weeks since we got back to Romer City, and I’d been chasing one false lead after another. Every so-called expert I found had either been a scammer or completely clueless. And with each dead end, the anxiety gnawing at me grew worse.

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Every lead had turned into a dead end, every supposed expert either a fraud or completely clueless.

And all the while, I was getting closer to death than the day before.

“Um,” Lilian’s voice broke through my thoughts. She cleared her throat, hesitating as she said, "You’ve been running yourself to a pit at this point What are you so desperate to find? What’s going on, Iskan- err, young master?"

She wasn't yet used to ‘young master’ yet. It was too respectful for her wild self.

I hesitated, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. She had been patient with me, tagging along without complaint even though I’d been dodging her questions since we left Lockdarn. I didn’t want to burden her with this or appear weak by admitting it, but I couldn’t keep stonewalling her forever.

"Alright," I mumbled, coming to a halt. I turned to face her, taking a long breath. "Do you remember the skill I used in Lockdarn? The one that nearly killed the Father?"

Lilian nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly, and anxiety crept into her face. "How can I forget? It split the city in two,” she looked at me as if I was stupid. “What about it?"

"There was a cost," I admitted, “a heavy, expensive cost. I lost… fifty years of my lifespan – just like that. Fifty fucking years, Lilian. And now I don’t know how much time I have left. Not only that, I now have a stupid restriction on my gained Experience Points.”

“Oh.”

“Could be years, could be months, hell, it could be days. It can be right now, and I have no idea. So that’s what I’ve been looking for—a way to find out how much time I have left and if possible, a way to fix it."

Lilian stared at me with wide eyes, and soon, her frown deepened. "That’s... wow. Alright, I get it now. I’d be on the edge too if I was in your shoes.”

"See?" I sighed. "It's been eating at me, as you can guess. Sadly no matter how much I looked around and asked around, I am only coming up empty-handed. There are no leads, hence no answers. There's... nothing."

Lilian fell quiet for a moment, her gaze distant. I could see the gears in her head turning, making me wonder what she was coming up with.

Then, her eyes lit up. "Ah, I know! The Aetheris Eyes," she said suddenly, and I frowned. "Some people in this world have optical powers, usually gained through bloodlines and sometimes through special circumstances. They are abilities, Skills, that let them see things others can’t. I have one myself.”

“Oh.”

“Let me show you."

"Alright..." I answered, not knowing where she was heading with this. I knew what Aetheris Eyes were. I used it as an excuse against Munera Obsidian to bargain for my life.

"I can read item descriptions. That was how I learned about the Demonic Cup. For example," she stared at my clothing, her gaze shifting. Lilian's red irises began to whirl as I looked, the pupils twisting into an elaborate pattern of sharp, angular lines forming a complicated, almost runic structure that pulsed with an eerie inner glow.

Her Aetheris Eyes opened, our gazes locked, and for a brief time, the world around us appeared to vanish into the background. I focused on the symbols in her eyes, blinking to myself.

She focused on my shirt, her gaze narrowing as if she could see every detail. “This shirt,” she began, her voice now a distant, almost trance-like tone, “was crafted by a tailor named Melvor in Romer City six months ago. The fabric is rich, and it is a blend of silk and cotton, dyed using a rare indigo pigment from the southern isles. It was commissioned by Countess Romani just for the young master, and you've worn it four times, including today."

I stared at her, astounded by the accuracy of her words. I was wearing it, and even I didn’t know much about the stuff she talked about. Actually, I couldn’t even confirm her words.

She went on, "There's a minor defect in the stitching on the left cuff, hardly discernible, but there—” she reached out a hand, “—an indication that it was made in a hurry. Despite this, it has been well-maintained and shows indications of recent washing.”

As her Aetheris Eyes gradually restored to their natural condition, the weird pattern in her pupils vanished, and she returned my stare. "That's just a sliver of what I can see," she added with satisfaction in her voice. "[Aetheris Veritas] is the name of my Aetheris eyes. My grandma also has it; it is a hereditary power. Although my mother doesn’t.”

I agreed, still processing what I had just witnessed. The level of intricacy that this Skill could perceive was remarkable. "That's... remarkable," I remarked, thinking about how potent the Aetheris Eyes could be. I remembered that one of the main characters also possessed Aetheris Eyes in the past, inside the Game.

"And, if I'm not mistaken," she added, "there's someone close by with Aetheris Eyes. His eyes enable him to discern people's age. Well, not in Romer, but in a neighboring city. That individual can see the remaining time of a person, like... right down to the minute."

My heart skipped. "You’re serious? Who is it? Where can I find them?" I felt like a dumbass for having hidden this from her all this time.

Lilian shrugged. "I don’t know his name, actually, but I’ve heard rumors. They say he's an alchemist living in the Wraithwood Forest, near the Carlstein border. According to the rumors, he can see how people will die and how long they have to live. And that… it drove him mad, seeing people's last days written over their heads. That's why he’s been hiding out in the forest ever since."

"The Wraithwood Forest..." I murmured. I knew of that place from memory, not the game. It was located near the borders, the one under Carlstein Barony.

My fiancé’s home.

I paused, the thought of Nebula Carlstein briefly pushing aside the gnawing anxiety.

The Wraithwood Forest was near the Carlstein Barony, and that wasn’t exactly close to Romer. Even with the urgency pressing down on me, heading there just on Lilian’s word felt like a gamble. It would take days, maybe longer, to get there, and I couldn’t afford to waste time on a rumor. Not with my lifespan hanging in the balance.

Still, it was a lead as good as any. Lilian had special eyes herself, so she should know. I shot her and looked and said. “Let’s check out another name first. The healer—Sister Althea. The Church of Amariel is nearby anyway. I'll also ask around a bit about this alchemist in case the church knows. Then we'll head home.”

Lilian nodded, seeming relieved by the decision. “I’m fine with it.”

“Mhm,” With that, I turned on my heel and started down the street, Lilian falling into step beside me.

The streets of Romer City buzzed with life around us, but my focus was already on the next step. The healer was close, and with any luck, she might hold the key to buying me more time.

Otherwise, I'll have to travel a long time.

****

The Church of Amariel. Worshippers of the Goddess of Healing and Compassion.

Amarial was a modest deity, yet one that carried weight among people — because most healers came from this church. She, while not the most powerful of the Twelve, had a special place in the hearts of many. Ultimately, her priests were life savers.

Her gentle influence spread far and wide, attracting followers who longed for the peace that only her touch could provide. Despite being a smaller goddess, she was adored and had her own church in Romer City.

Romer was a large city. There was a central church here that stood as a sign of unity, where all gods could be prayed to under one grand roof. Smaller cities only had that central church, but large cities often had separate churches too. Romer boasted five separate churches, each one honoring a different deity. Amariel’s church was one of them.

The walk to the church was quiet, the only sounds were the rhythmic tap of our footsteps against the cobblestones and the distant murmur of the city.

Lilian walked beside me, her eyes scanning our surroundings with a mix of curiosity and caution.

The church stood grandly in a part of the city as we slowed down. Our eyes drew up to it, and unlike usual, I also acted like a country bumpkin with Lilian. It was a beautiful church.

When we approached the gates of the church, however, I suddenly came to a halt.

Realization struck.

I… had missed something in the heat of the moment, my head filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Lilian’s voice cut through the silence, tinged with concern.

I didn’t answer immediately. My gaze lingered on the church’s entrance, on the soft glow emanating from within, on the symbol of Amariel etched above the doors—a gentle hand cradling a blooming flower.

Shit, I almost stepped into the tiger's den.

All I could think about was what lay beneath the surface of my own skin. The power that surged through me wasn’t pure—it was tainted, corrupted.

I was a demonic cultivator, my Qi a color of red and black. I was basically a demon if one stripped me of my flesh and bones.

“Young master?”

I shifted my gaze, meeting Lilian’s eyes as she furrowed her brows in confusion, clearly uncertain of my thoughts. Gently, I lifted a hand and lightly tapped my forehead. She stared.

That was the spot where cursed horns of pure energy had previously emerged. Recognition flashed in her eyes as the memory returned to her. She recalled the energy horns, the rush of demonic Qi.

“...Let’s return then,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. How annoying.

It bothered me to return from the gate from a possible lead, but it's better than getting executed. Turning away from the church, we began to retreat. It was a foolish idea to begin with. What had I been thinking?

But just as we turned to leave, I collided with someone. The impact was soft but enough to bring me to an abrupt stop. I looked down to find a woman flinging onto the floor, panicking slightly, but her expression was one of mild surprise.

“....”

She wore the simple attire of a nun, her pale robes pristine and modest. Her presence was calming, a natural aura of gentleness that seemed to radiate from her very being.

[Level 77]

Shit.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” the woman pushed herself up with a soft grunt. “Are you alright, young man?” she asked in a tone of genuine concern despite the fact that it was clearly my fault.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my lips as I watched her eyes widen in sudden shock. Her gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. My heart dropped like a stone, cold dread reaching up to my throat.

Why the hell is she so shocked? Has she seen through me?

Had she sensed the demonic energy within me? I wouldn’t be surprised, and she was at the 6th Ascension and the priestess of a Goddess. This was not good.

Lilian tensed beside me, her hand hovering beside her as if ready to take out her claws, her gaze darting between me and the woman. I could only stand there, waiting for what would come next.

Dammit. I should have just returned home.

“Y-young master Romani?!” she shouted. “It’s been a while; what are you doing here?”

Oh.

Ohh, she's just surprised because of my identity.

“....”

Have we met before?

Fuck, that gave me a scare.