Status, Aeon muttered inwardly.
Ding!
[Aeon Sylvan]
Race: High Elf
Rank: E
Affinity: Nature, Soul, Space-Time
Talent: SS
Traits: Incorruptible, Mana Domination
Unique Skills: Heal, Riftwalk
Bloodline: Imperial Sylvan
Physique: Wood Refinement Physique
---
The first thing that caught his eye was his talent.
Talent determined everything—the higher one's rank, the greater their chances of reaching power. Elves, humans, dragons, and all the other races of Terra could awaken talents, with [F Rank] as the lowest and [SSS Rank] as the highest.
Each rank broke further into three tiers—[F-], [F], and [F+].
For Aeon to awaken at [SS Rank] meant that his cultivation would progress faster and smoother than most. Still, talent also set a ceiling; advancing beyond its limits was almost impossible, even with rare treasures or alchemy.
The next section made him pause. His affinities.
Not the number—three affinities wasn't unheard of among nobles—but the rarity.
Nature was expected, considering his mother's bloodline.
Soul was rare, but not unimaginable.
But Space-Time… that was unheard of.
He had read of space affinities. He had heard of time. But never the two fused into one—two of the rarest elements, woven together as a single whole.
"Well…?"
Isolde's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She leaned closer, excitement bright in her silver eyes. Not that she could see his screen—status windows were private to their owners.
"What's yours?" she asked.
"Nature, Soul, and Space," Aeon said evenly.
"Wow!" Her delight spilled into the carriage.
"And me? Lunar and Ice." Pride practically dripped from her grin.
Not surprising, Aeon thought, his eyes drifting briefly to Lady Firael.
"And the rank?" Isolde pressed.
"Isolde," Lady Firael chided softly.
"It's alright, Aunt," Aeon said quickly. "It'll all be public once the palace tests us."
Whenever royals awakened, talent and affinity orbs were used to measure them.
Those ancient relics gave flawless readings—even catching faint affinities the system itself failed to register.
The talent orb, though less refined, rarely erred.
Aeon called his screen again.
Ding!
[Affinity]
Nature — SSS
Soul — SSS
Space-Time — SSS
---
He blinked. Once. Twice. The screen didn't change.
"No way…" he whispered. "That can't be right."
"What does it say?" Isolde leaned in further, trying to read truth off his face.
Even Lady Firael, who had been silent the entire ride, now studied him with unblinking focus.
"My affinities…" Aeon swallowed. "They're all SSS."
"Heh, heh, heh," Isolde laughed, her voice bubbling with mischief. "That's nothing. I've got an EX Rank affinity."
"... …"
"... ..."
***
The carriage fell into silence.
Lady Firael ended the discussion with a single firm order. No more talk of traits, affinities, or skills. Her tone held a weight that even Isolde didn't push against.
Aeon didn't blame her. [EX Rank] was not common knowledge. Barely a handful of elves knew it even existed. He himself had only learned of it after stumbling across restricted documents in his father's study.
Among those who knew, the belief was unanimous: anything beyond [SSS Rank] belonged to the realm of gods.
'I can still remember the look in Father's eyes when he made me swear never to speak of it. He called it a matter of national security.'
Aeon glanced at Isolde. She was sulking now, cheeks puffed, brows drawn tight in frustration. He couldn't tell whether to marvel at her terrifying potential—or laugh at how much of a child she still was.
...Sigh.
He turned back to his screen.
Ding!
[Stats]
Rank: E
STR: F+
AGI: E
STA: E
MANA: D-
---
Compared to his talents and affinities, his stats looked ordinary.
Strength at [F+] was low, but not shameful—well within range for a newly awakened High Elf. Humans awakened two years later, at twelve, and their numbers rarely matched even this.
Agility and stamina at [E Rank] made sense, a perk of his bloodline.
But his mana—[D-]—that was different. He couldn't help but puff his chest a little.
'All the pain and effort I poured into stabilizing my foundation paid off. I've got deeper reserves than most, and veins tough enough to handle triple the flow.'
He considered opening the traits and physique sections but decided to wait until he was home.
When he looked up, Isolde was fast asleep in Lady Firael's arms, all her earlier energy drained away. Lady Firael met Aeon's glance with a serene smile. He had never seen her frown, and wondered if she even could. The thought alone seemed impossible.
Aeon leaned against the carriage window. Outside, the city passed in shades of twilight, streets lined with trees glowing faintly in the dusk.
His thoughts lingered on the two silver-haired women, their beauty doubled by the light, their presence almost unearthly.
Sleep claimed him before he realized it. And when he dreamed, he dreamed of them.
He also dreamed of strangers—faces that mirrored his own, speaking in foreign tongues he could not understand.
And of a vast tree stretching endlessly into the sky, its shade large enough to swallow eternity.
He did not know it yet, but these were only the first of many strange dreams to come.