Chương 254: A Old Tale

Vale fell silent, the conversation settling heavily in his mind as he began to sort through it piece by piece. The implications were structurally unsettling in a way, challenging the way he understood power, existence, and the hierarchy of beings within the tower. Across from him, Maximus remained still, watching with an indifferent yet attentive gaze, as though observing a process rather than a person. He didn't interrupt, he simply waited.

Eventually, Vale looked back up, something more focused within his eyes now, curiosity sharpened into intent.

"Do you think I'll ever meet this Kealix guy?" For a fraction of a second, Maximus's composure shifted. His eyes widened slightly, not in shock, but in mild surprise at the question itself. Then, unexpectedly, a faint, almost approving smile formed on his lips.

"I am quite certain you will," he said calmly.

"That is… if you choose to." The answer caught Vale off guard. He had expected dismissal, or at best uncertainty, not this quiet confidence. Still, the response settled well with him. He leaned back into his chair, a small grin forming as he processed it, satisfied, at least for now, with what he had learned. But the curiosity didn't fade.

"Oh, right," Vale continued after a moment, shifting topics.

"About the sages. Tyrus and Equinox, they're still missing, right? What are they like? I heard they aren't human." Maximus's gaze narrowed slightly. He leaned back as well, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling for a brief moment before returning to Vale.

"Calling them 'not human' is… imprecise," he said.

"Their forms are no longer human, yes, but their souls remain unchanged." Vale tilted his head, intrigued.

"What, did they reincarnate or something?" he asked, half joking. Maximus smiled faintly.

"Yes," he said.

"They did." Vale blinked, his expression momentarily blank as the casual confirmation landed harder than expected. The idea had been rhetorical, yet here it was, treated as fact. Maximus continued without pause.

"Tyrus, in his original world, was a pilot, operator of a mechanized construct designed to defend humanity. In the end, he fell in battle. His body was destroyed… but his soul did not dissipate. Instead, it merged with the machine he controlled." Vale leaned forward slightly, his interest fully engaged now.

"The result," Maximus went on, "was a living construct, no longer flesh, but not entirely artificial either. A consciousness bound to machinery, driven by will alone. His original body decayed long ago. What remains is… something else." He paused briefly, his expression tightening just slightly.

"Unfortunately, within this environment, he is likely powerless. His system relied on harmonic atum, dynamic, responsive energy. The atum here is stagnant. Without adaptation or reconnection, he would be little more than a massive, inert structure." Vale raised a brow.

"So he's just… stuck? Like a monument?"

"That would be a generous interpretation," Maximus replied dryly. Vale exhaled softly, then caught onto something else.

"Wait, you said 'our' power source. You all share the same one?" Maximus nodded.

"Of course. It is the foundation of our cohesion, and the reason we were able to reach the edge in the first place." Vale's eyes sharpened, interest spiking. He leaned back slightly, masking it behind a casual expression.

"Sounds like a pretty useful source," he said with a faint smirk.

"Any chance you'll tell me what it is?" Maximus looked at him directly, amusement flickering across his otherwise composed face. Slowly, he raised a finger to his lips. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"That," he said, "remains undisclosed, even for you." Vale sighed, clearly disappointed, but then paused, something clicking into place.

"…'Even me?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean? What makes me different?" Maximus's smile didn't fade.

"You will understand," he said, "when you finally open your eyes." Vale leaned back further, rolling his eyes with a quiet scoff.

"Great. Another mystery."

"Indeed." A brief silence followed before Vale shifted again, unwilling to leave the conversation there.

"Alright then, new question. Out of all seven of you… who's the strongest?" Maximus didn't answer immediately. He glanced at Vale sidelong, then leaned back once more, his eyes drifting upward as he considered the question with more care than expected.

"That is… difficult to quantify," he said slowly.

"In direct capability, we are relatively equal. Each of us specializes differently, making absolute comparison inefficient." Vale frowned slightly.

"So no clear answer?" Maximus's gaze lowered again, something more thoughtful behind it now.

"If forced to choose," he said, "I would say Hunter has the highest probability of winning any engagement." Vale raised a brow.

"Hunter? Is he your leader or something? Some kind of veteran?" Maximus let out a short, quiet laugh, genuine this time.

"Our leader?" he repeated.

"A veteran?" He shook his head faintly.

"No. He is neither." Vale's confusion deepened.

"Then what is he?" Maximus turned his head slightly, meeting Vale's gaze fully again. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes now, subtle.

"He," Maximus said with measured clarity, "is the greatest coward I have ever known." Vale raised a brow, uncertainty settling across his face as he tried to determine whether Maximus was being serious or simply toying with him. The man's tone had been too even, too controlled to read easily, and that only made it worse. After a brief pause, Vale tilted his head slightly, his expression turning more peculiar than skeptical.

"Are you serious right now?" Maximus leaned back in his chair once more, his posture relaxed but not careless, his gaze drifting for a moment as though the question itself wasn't particularly important. He seemed to consider it, briefly, deliberately, before rising to his feet in one smooth motion.

"Perhaps I am," he said calmly.

"Perhaps I am not." His eyes lowered toward Vale again, carrying that same faint, unreadable intensity.

"That," he added, "is for you to decide." The ambiguity lingered, but Maximus didn't allow it to settle. Instead, he reached into the inner lining of his armor, retrieving a folded letter. For a moment, he ran a hand through his blond hair, a small, almost absent gesture, before tossing the letter onto the table in front of Vale. The paper landed with a soft, dry sound. Vale glanced down at it, confusion immediately surfacing.

"What is this?" Maximus raised a brow as if the answer should have been obvious, then replied without ceremony.

"That is the address where the girl, Nym, is staying. Drago asked me to pass it along." He paused briefly, then continued, "He also wanted you informed that the colosseum games begin tomorrow at noon. You are expected to be there." Vale nodded faintly, absorbing the information.

"For now," Maximus finished, "you should rest." Without waiting for a response, he turned and began walking toward the door. His steps were steady, unhurried, yet carried a sense of finality. Just before crossing the threshold, he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Consider what I told you," he said, his tone returning to that distant neutrality, "as nothing more than an old tale. There is no evidence to support any of it." A faint pause followed.

"Well," he added, almost as an afterthought, "aside from our existence." Then he left. The door closed behind him, leaving Vale alone once again in the quiet of the bakery. For a moment, Vale simply sat there, staring at the spot where Maximus had stood. Then he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as the silence reclaimed the room. Reaching forward, he picked up the letter and unfolded it, his eyes scanning its contents. Inside was a simple map, clean and functional. Two locations were marked.

One he recognized immediately: the colosseum. The other was smaller, tucked away toward the outskirts, a modest structure, likely a house or hut.

'Nym's place,' he concluded. Vale leaned back slightly, folding the letter again as a yawn escaped him. The fatigue he had been ignoring all day finally began to settle in.

"I'll visit her tomorrow," he muttered to himself. The thought lingered, brief and grounding, until a sudden, sharp crash shattered the stillness. Vale's head snapped to the side. The window had been broken open, shards scattered across the floor, and within the frame stood a familiar figure, dark and shifting, outlined in shadow. Crimson eyes glowed faintly through the mist-like form. Vale stared for a second… then let out a long, tired sigh.

"Seriously, Shade?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You couldn't just use the door?" The shadow crossed its arms, eyes narrowing slightly, the gesture unmistakably defiant despite its abstract form. Vale held the stare for a moment before exhaling again, resigned.

"Yeah, alright. Figures." He straightened, rolling his shoulders as a faint smirk began to form.

"Good timing, actually," he continued.

"I was thinking of getting some training in before turning in." Shade's posture shifted immediately. The mist around him tightened, his form sharpening as he uncrossed his arms and raised a clenched fist. Even without words, the intent was clear, focused and ready. Vale's smirk widened.

"Thought so." He took a step forward, planting his feet as his body settled into a familiar stance, tension coiling through his muscles, not from fear, but anticipation.

"I'll put up more of a fight this time," he said, eyes locking onto those glowing crimson points.

"Who knows…" A brief pause.

"Maybe I'll even win."