They pursued the carriage through the city, maintaining some distance. Val's movements were more akin to leaps, fluid and powerful. They navigated several streets, eventually arriving in an area dominated by massive warehouses.

When the carriage veered left between two buildings, Val hesitated, her gaze fixed on something atop one of the warehouses.

“What..”

“Silent,” she whispered.

Suddenly, she pushed Immanuel back, signalling an immediate retreat. As they crossed a street, five figures dressed in black emerged. Concurrently, an explosion erupted above them. "Stay back like you're running away," Val instructed before darting towards the assailants.

Immanuel feigned escape, glancing over his shoulder for a route. Val engaged the group with a flash of her blue sword.

Another explosion sounded behind them. The attackers tried to overwhelm Val, but she countered with domes of blue force while deftly parrying with her sword, gradually moving towards Immanuel.

In the chaos, Immanuel chose his target, feigning flight before transforming in energy and flashing towards his adversary. However, he overshot, narrowly escaping a swift sword strike aimed at his neck. He exploded into energy again.

Materializing, he saw two attackers disengage from Val and strike. One was halted by Val's blue bolt, but the other's sword pierced Immanuel's torso. Ignoring the agony, Immanuel activated his claw, piercing the assailant's chin upwards through his skull.

He rolled away, feeling the sword move around brutally, regaining his footing, now facing the attacker hit by Val's bolt. Desperately, he defended against the onslaught of dual swords. His focus intensified, parrying relentlessly. Channelling his power into a glowing fist, he struck, but his opponent evaded while delivering a powerful kick.

Exhausted and injured, Immanuel flashed towards Val, finding her still fighting two enemies, the warehouse behind her nearly destroyed. There were other skirmishes in the distance.

He withdrew the sword from his body while running, feeling something else strike him from behind, entering his flesh. Amidst the pain, he turned, parried a throwing knife and confronted the attacker with the dual swords. Now wielding both sword and claw, he fought back, each parry depleting his energy further under the brute force of his adversary’s blows.

Exhausted and nearing depletion, Immanuel recognized that he could muster only one more flash. His opponent, a skilled warrior somewhere in the third stage with brown eyes peering from behind a black mask, outmatched him in speed and skill. The rapid clashing of their weapons resonated like a relentless machine gun.

Then, in a critical moment, Immanuel misstepped. The assailant, seizing the opportunity, closed in. Immanuel's claw parried one sword, but the other threatened a lethal strike. In a desperate bid, he exploded into energy, aiming for Val.

Rematerializing near Val, he felt the piercing agony of another knife embedding itself in his back, just below his neck. He crashed to the ground, forcefully yanking the knife out with his right hand and concentrating all his remaining strength on the fresh wound. Blood spurted profusely.

Hands pressed against his injury, staunching the flow. Someone began dragging him away from the fray. Another explosion erupted nearby, sending a ringing echo through his ears. As he was hurriedly pulled to safety, the ground seemed to blur beneath him.

They crashed through a wall and then burst through a door. Immanuel was abruptly dropped to the floor. He faintly sensed someone draping a shawl around his neck. Then, overwhelmed by his injuries and exhaustion, he succumbed to unconsciousness, the turmoil of the battle fading into darkness.

---

Immanuel awoke in a room surrounded by lush plants, nestled in a comfortable bed. Noticing his movement, a young boy seated near the door promptly stood and left the room.

Beside him on a table was a glass of water, which Immanuel cautiously drank. He realized he was naked under a thin sheet. Gently probing his neck, he found it healed, and a careful examination of his body revealed no pain or scars. Wrapping the brown sheet around himself, he rose and moved towards the exit, only to be met by a tall, imposing woman in the doorway.

She bore a striking resemblance to Eren Danued of the Blue Dome, wearing a crown akin to his. Her attire was a pristine white toga, revealing only her head above the chin.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Just in time for the celebration, Immanuel. Do you know who I am?”

“I’m sorry, no,” Immanuel replied.

“You are sorry? Did you forget?” she asked, standing rigidly in the doorway.

“No, I... nobody told me.”

“Valas Neer of the Blue Dome,” she introduced herself with a slow, deliberate warrior's salute across her chest, which Immanuel mimicked.

“I wanted to meet you before the celebration tonight,” she continued, leaving a lingering silence that made Immanuel feel uneasy. He broke the silence saying, “I am grateful for the care and the timely escape.”

She nodded.

“You fought and even killed your first enemy,” she stated, again pausing.

“I was lucky with Jager as my teacher and Val at my side,” Immanuel responded, receiving no reply. This feels like sitting in a chatroom with my grandma, he thought.

“I want to lead an excursion to where you came to be on the great plains. Would you be able to lead us there?”

Completely impossible, thought Immanuel, but answered resolutely, “Yes.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “The armor is extraordinary. A great gift.”

“You have given me so much more,” Immanuel said, nodding slightly.

“Follow the hallway and go down; you will come to the lobby. From there, you can go to your room and prepare for tonight.” With that, she turned and left.

Immanuel made his way down the hallway, descending several flights of stairs wrapped in his brown sheet. Feeling somewhat silly, he traversed the lobby, pausing briefly to admire the magnificent tree there, its leaves exuding a sense of strength and vitality. Shaking off his distraction, he proceeded to the elevator and went up.

The lounge area was bustling with activity. Groups of people conversed while bartenders and servants navigated the space. Spotting Frank among the crowd, Immanuel quickly headed to his room to avoid drawing attention in his current attire.

Once inside his room, he discarded the sheet and began to don his ceremonial outfit. Elio entered a little later with a smile and a pair of drinks.

He greeted Immanuel warmly. “Good to see you on your feet.”

“Yeah, grateful to not have a knife in my neck or a sword in my chest,” Immanuel replied.

“Your chest? I thought…”

Yes. Belly, I said chest for dramatic effect, it was a close thing anyway.

He then walked up to Elio and hugged him. Elio held the drinks in the air.

“You know the secret to a good hug?” Asked Immanuel.

“No, I don't know the secret to a good hug.”

“It’s about holding just a little bit longer than the other person.” He let go and Elio handed him a drink.

Immanuel, his fingers gently curling around the glass Elio had passed to him, walked towards the plush couch overlooking the city. His eyes swept over the familiar assortment of his belongings scattered on the coffee table: the hefty sack of coins from Carto, the sealed letter, even the Haiken claw, and the pipe from the restaurant. A smile flickered across his lips. Sinking into the couch, he turned towards the sprawling cityscape, watching the evening sky drape itself in shades of twilight. Elio joined him by the window.

Immanuel's fingers traced a path over his chest, feeling the thrum of zeal beneath his skin. "The difference between using zeal and not is immense," he said, his voice soft. "It's like stepping from shadow into sunlight, from vulnerability to overwhelming power, from mere possibility to tangible might."

Elio's eyes, reflecting the dying light, flicked towards Immanuel, then back to the horizon. His hand clenched, the red lines of zeal pulsating under his skin. "I always say it’s about family and honour," he said, his voice low but firm. "But it is also about power. I could not accept being stuck at stage two. It is too good to grow.

“It is a dangerous thing.” Immanuel said intently looking at Elio.

“Dangerous how?”

“You did gamble with your life to reach this stage, to name only one danger.”

“What does…” Immanuel interrupted him, “and to be practical, your feeling of invincibility might lead to overestimation."

“That's how many die,” Elio agreed, sitting opposite Immanuel. “Don’t take fights you can't handle.”

“That's like saying don’t be stupid,” Immanuel retorted, then continued, “What about the growing power gap between us and non-cultivators? What keeps us in check?”

Elio seemed baffled, he looked at Immanuel like he saw an animal he never saw before, “That is the whole point of it.”

Elio was getting frustrated and Immanuel decided to leave it at that. He didn’t know what to think of the whole thing himself.

“Killed my first.” Immanuel said, looking at the Haiken claws.

Elio, intrigued, picked up the Haiken claws. “Such a beautiful weapon. Can I try it?”

“Sure,” Immanuel replied, handing it over. “Tell me about the battle.” Elio asked while strapping on the claw. So Immanuel did.