“Yeah, but this power feels way too restless.”

Aphelia forced a rueful smile, hands raised like offering bowls. The force she’d gathered scattered like startled birds, then flowed back like a river, again and again, hovering close yet coy.

It didn’t rage out of control. Instead, no matter how it shifted, it turned within her palms like a caged tide, never breaking leash—yet only barely, the thinnest thread of control.

She could not wield it the way she used to, free as wind over reeds. Her heart pinched first, then her fingers tightened, and fatigue pricked like cold rain.

Merlin saw it at a glance. He only shook his head, smiled like dawn through fog, and said, “That’s normal. You haven’t truly mastered it yet.”

He lifted a hand, and a power equal to Aphelia’s rose like a mountain under moonlight. In his grip, it moved as if it were his shadow, shifting through forms like clouds carving peaks.

In a blink, he wove countless demigod arrays, circles like haloed moons, drifting around them. Each hung taut as a bowstring, ready to sing. Even Aphelia clicked her tongue in wonder.

Honestly, she didn’t think she could reach that shore.

Her power flooded her body, seeping into every bone like spring water into stone. Yet with her old methods, even with that vast reservoir, she couldn’t fire off arrays in volleys like Merlin.

Arcane Power is just a foundation. To use higher arrays, you need true understanding—long years stacked like rings in a tree, patience like winter waiting for thaw.

To do what Merlin did, the years were likely counted by tens of thousands, stars worn smooth by time.

But his way of building demigod arrays wasn’t any method known in this world. That difference explained the storm he could unleash in a heartbeat.

Awe rose first, a hush like snowfall. Then eagerness flickered in her eyes, bright as a lit lantern. If she grasped his way, how far could she go?

With power like this, no wonder the Valkyrie sent her to seek Merlin and untangle the path to True God.

“This is just my way,” Merlin said, voice calm as a lake. “Anyone who reaches the True God realm has their own technique. I can’t teach you that. Even if I tried, it wouldn’t stick.”

He flicked his wrist. The demigod arrays vanished like mist at sunrise, leaving not a trace, not even a breath of warmth, as if they’d never been.

Behind him, the Tower Spirit nodded like a willow in wind, as if to speak, then paused, smiling at Aphelia with a gentle glow.

Confusion rippled first, then resolve steadied like a stone. “Then… what should I do about my True God path? Master Merlin, please guide me.”

Right now, her greatest worry was growth. Holding vast power without mastery felt like hugging a ticking bomb, the fuse hissing like a snake in grass.

Her sword-weaving earlier had flowed like cloud and water, effortless to the eye. But if she fought, fear bit first—she might die to backlash like a flame eating its own wick.

To avoid that fate, and for her friends still walking the mortal world, she had to learn to hold this power steady, like a kite kept by a firm hand.

“Don’t rush,” Merlin said, voice warm as coals. “This isn’t a thing for a moment or a few words. As it happens, your friend from the Crimson Dragon Clan has recovered. Let’s talk there.”

He bowed slightly, a gentleman’s gesture like a leaf offering shade. Behind him, the Tower Spirit opened a teleportation array, and Lilo’s forest unfurled like a green scroll.

His words had gone that far; Aphelia couldn’t refuse. She also needed help, and the Valkyrie had confirmed his identity. It shouldn’t become another Nero incident.

She nodded, then tucked away her surging power like a wave settling into tide.

Seeing her agree, Merlin’s smile brightened like sunrise through pines. He murmured to the Tower Spirit, then led Aphelia into the teleportation array. In a breath, the forest’s threshold stood before them.

Freshness hit her nose first, crisp as mountain rain. Awe washed in before thought. She sent out a thin strand of intent, like silk through dew, to probe the woods—then froze in surprise, just like Lilo had.

Her gaze toward Merlin deepened with reverence, and a hint of caution, like a swimmer feeling the river’s undertow. His strength felt vast as sky.

She opened her mouth, but Merlin, leading ahead, scratched his cheek and smiled, boyish as a stray breeze. “You’ll laugh at me. These are rough applications. If she saw them, she’d mock me for neglecting proper work.”

If this level counted as rough, Aphelia thought, most mages should bludgeon themselves with their staves. Annoyance pricked first, then faded like a thin cloud.

By “she,” he probably meant the Valkyrie.

So “rough” might be rough only in her eyes. That made sense. Even so, it felt a touch like showing off. She was a future True God, after all. A little face, please.

Their idle chatter rose and fell like sparrows. Soon, they reached the creek where Lilo waited. Aphelia had grown numb to surprise; if a living True God walked out now, she wouldn’t blink.

“Aphelia!”

Across the creek, Lilo saw Merlin and Aphelia approach. Her body jolted like a harp string, then her hand, half-lifted, fell to her side. Apology pooled in her eyes like rainwater.

Aphelia wasn’t slow. Understanding landed first, soft as ash. She murmured a sorry to Merlin, then stepped past him, crossed to Lilo, and caught her rigid hand with a warm grip.

“Senior Lilo, I’m back.”

Merlin had said this had nothing to do with her clan. Yet friend-worry rose first, thick as smoke. The hurt had happened in her family’s manor; if that True God aura hadn’t flashed and vanished, she might not have noticed Aphelia’s grave wounds. One minute later—who knew?

Self-blame welled in Lilo like a flood behind a thin dam.

She wasn’t born noble. The habits of common folk clung like the scent of earth. Even absolved by the clan, she couldn’t pass the gate in her heart.

Aphelia sighed inwardly, a quiet wind through leaves. Lilo’s heart was loyal and true. From a simple assignment by the Valkyrie to real friendship—Lilo’s nature had woven that bridge.

“See? I’m fine. And thank you for finding me in time.”

At that, Lilo gripped Aphelia’s hands, as if using all her strength, knuckles white as frost. Her voice surged like a bell.

“Please don’t carry it alone anymore. If danger comes again, trust me!”

Heat rose to her cheeks like sunset. She remembered something, startled, released Aphelia’s hands, stepped back, turned her face aside, and stammered in a flurry.

“S-sorry! I went too far…”

A regal beauty showing blush like a peony—Aphelia’s heart skipped, then cooled with a sigh. Her current state was a chain around the ankle.

Merlin, sensing the mood settle like dust, chuckled and cut in. “Well… it wasn’t the Crimson Dragon Clan’s fault anyway. And it’s the perfect time for a tea gathering. Freya!”

He snapped his fingers. A line of light shot into the forest’s depths like a swift fish. Leaves trembled. The whole wood whispered, a hush of wind and a rustle of rain.

Soon, a green figure poured out of the trees, surfacing before them like a spring.

She was a cute girl with emerald hair, yet too small for “maiden,” just between girl and loli. Her petite frame was wrapped in green, beauty half-veiled like a lute behind silk.

“What are you doing, Merlin? I haven’t slept enough. If this goes wrong, you take the blame.”

She rubbed her drowsy eyes, cheeks puffed like a sparrow, and gave Merlin’s calf a playful kick. Merlin only laughed, letting her kick like a tide against rock.

“We’ve got honored guests,” he said, warm as tea. “It’s about the True God path. With you here, it’ll go smoother. And when it comes to taste, you’re unmatched.”

Flattery finds its mark, always. She blinked, then smiled, shy as dawn, though her mouth kept its thorns.

“Mm, my taste is first-rate… no, beyond first-rate! You picked the right person. Leave it to me.”

Aphelia couldn’t help a quiet laugh, soft as rain on moss. A word rose in her mind, fitting as a tailored robe.

Proud enough to tease, tender enough to pity—the little green-haired girl was that kind of adorable.