Chapter 63: After the Storm
The night grew calm again,
Philip sat in the dark of his room, eyes closed, and breathing steady. Outside, the moon hovered over shattered bricks and scorched tiles—the aftermath of his clash with Adeline. Inside, the world had returned to normal, as though the arrival of demigods hadn't just shaken the balance of Nigeria itself.
Footsteps echoed softly down the hallway.
"Phil," came a voice—soft, groggy, but familiar.
Nathaniel
His younger brother.
He leaned on the doorframe, his eyes half-open but already glowing faintly with energy. The awakening in him was gradual, godly, like a sleeping power remembering its name.
"What happened?" Nathaniel asked, his voice deeper than before. "I felt something. Like a mountain and a storm were dancing outside."
Philip didn't turn. "Nothing," he said quietly.
Nathaniel squinted at him. "Philip—"
"Nothing that concerns you… yet." His tone was firmer this time.
Nathaniel was silent. Then, he nodded and left without another word.
Philip opened his eyes and scanned the house. His soul stretched outward like a field of silent thunder. He swept through old beams, dusty corners, creaky floors—and then to the living room.
His parents.
His sister.
Sleeping peacefully, unaffected by the chaos outside. Shielded by a web of protective runes and invisible soul veils he had instinctively left behind.
They were safe.
Only then did he allow himself to return to his bed. He sat cross-legged, bones aching faintly, skin tingling with leftover mana tremors.
He entered meditation, and his mind unraveled the fight second by second. Every feint, every wave of blood, every soul-strike. But something gnawed at him.
He didn't hav expeience he could only throw his fist around why hadn't he triend to create a weapon. He alos felt massive loss of energy with every strike he gave.
"She was toying with me," he murmured.
. His soul core pulsed like a second heart.
He realized it then: though his soul strength was rare—even among demigods—he had failed to utilize and he had no technique to use it..
He exhaled and pushed deeper. His inner vision turned to his mana core—a swirling storm of golden-blue liquid, thick and bright—but still not dense enough.
Sage level.
He clicked his tongue. "All this strength, and I'm still just a sage."
Sure, his soul let him punch above his class, but that wouldn't last long.
"I need more," he whispered.
He accessed the tattoo at the back of his hand his only connection to the temple of space and time.
His mind drifted again to Adeline's words. The Conclave. The other paths. The unknown domains beyond his own instincts.
He accessed the tattoo at the back of his hand his only connection to the temple of space and time.