"I wish time would slow down."
Around seven or eight o'clock, Riveria left the city walls, her steps unsteady, her expression dazed. She'd snuck out of the Familia; being discovered would cause trouble, so she needed to return quickly.
Though the Familia was resting after the expedition, she still had much to do.
After Riveria left, Arthas sighed, getting up, still wanting more.
In just a few hours, Riveria had taught him the basics of mage training. It was fundamental, but incredibly helpful.
He'd found his direction thanks to her words.
He'd been unwilling, even afraid, of his power, but Riveria's words made him realize how foolish he'd been.
"Fearing my own power… how foolish. Power should be used; I am its master."
A twisted smile touched his lips; the sound of shattering ice came from his clenched fist.
With a wave, icy shards scattered behind him, coating the wall in frost.
"I'm a mage. Why use close combat?"
Arthas finally acknowledged Hephaestus's skill.
It seemed Hestia had suggested a sword, but it was actually a staff.
Shaped like a greatsword, it weighed like a rapier. It wasn't suitable for powerful swings; the flexible blade would dissipate the force.
"Well done, Hephaestus. You fooled even me."
Arthas chuckled, gripping the sword; frost enveloped the blade. He continued channeling mana until the blade shattered.
He hadn't used his full power; even godly weapons couldn't withstand his frost.
Hephaestus, though the God of Craftsmanship, couldn't create weapons beyond the mortal realm.
This sword showed Hephaestus's skill, unlike the toys he'd crushed earlier.
After ten seconds of near-full power, the sword shattered; a small object landed in his palm.
Wooden, rough, it looked like a simple stick.
"What is this?"
Arthas examined it.
About the size of a staff, but unlike any he'd seen. Dark, twisted, it looked like a fireplace poker.
Though he didn't know what it was, it held extraordinary power, beyond the mortal realm—divine power.
As Arthas examined it, the shattered sword fragments glowed, projecting a figure.
"This meeting… is inconvenient."
Hephaestus's voice sounded weary.
"You see me; you've found the sword's secret. I admit defeat; I couldn't create a weapon that could withstand your power."
Hephaestus's projection looked serious.
"I didn't want you to see this; I hoped you'd become a swordsman; it would have avoided trouble."
"Your power isn't from this world. Hestia doesn't know your past, but you're a demigod's descendant, perhaps even a reincarnated god. Only Freya used frost, but you're stronger, more terrifying, and more aggressive."
"I considered informing the Gods; your unpredictability is dangerous. But I didn't want to see Hestia upset."
"I found this stick by chance. I don't know what it is, but it's powerful; it absorbs mana. It might be the perfect weapon for you."
"Finally, remember my words: hide yourself. Don't make public confessions; you'll attract attention; you and Hestia will be in danger."
The projection vanished, leaving Arthas pondering.
Riveria mentioned heritage; Hephaestus confirmed it. Whose descendant am I?
Or am I a reincarnated god?
"But… with such obvious frost power, I can't find a match."
Keep a low profile… sorry, Hephaestus, but some things are non-negotiable!
For Riveria, I'll defy the Gods, if necessary.
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