CHAPTER 45: POWER OF GIFTS

After going into his room, Kaelor stripped off his worn clothes and began by donning the Mountainhide Armour as his base layer. The thick yet pliant material clung to his torso like a second skin, its inner lining cool against his flesh. He slid into his pants and stepped out barefooted into the open air.

Just then...

"Hmm..." A soft, feminine hum drifted to his ears, subtle yet deliberate, like someone making a quiet appraisal.

Kaelor turned toward the street.

There she was, a young woman, moving toward him with unhurried grace. Her long black gown was cinched at the waist, perfectly highlighting the gentle curve of her hips. Silky silver hair spilled over both shoulders and down her back like moonlight on dark water. Each step she took was light, almost noiseless, her bare feet barely disturbing the earth.

Her eyes roamed boldly from Kaelor’s head to his toes, slow, unashamed, curious.

"Shouldn’t you be at the feast?" Kaelor asked, slinging Ignis over his shoulder. The weapon settled with a soft metallic clink, resonating faintly in the quiet.

"And what should I do there?" she replied, her voice tinged with mischief, teasing. "Chat with Elsa? A healer, a farmer and quite the fighter? Or dance with the men who couldn’t keep their eyes off me? Or maybe just sit and eat till I’m bloated, though unfortunately, there’s no wine. So those deliciously cooked meats lacked their full appeal. And... I prefer beef to mutton."

She smiled as she spoke, her tone light, almost airy, yet it carried the weight of someone used to being noticed. Kaelor raised a brow at her, not amused, but not dismissive either.

"She came because we weren’t there," Mildred said beside him with a soft chuckle, folding her arms.

Vi scoffed gently, but moved closer to Kaelor. Her bright blue eyes were drawn to the Mountainhide Armour now wrapped around his torso. Though thick, the armor hinted at the raw power beneath, his broad chest and carved shoulders barely obscured.

"This looks like an artifact crafted by an Acranist," Vi mused aloud. "The kind who dabble in enchantments, beast-mutation, weapons... But why doesn’t this one have runic inscriptions?"

"Because I made it using my gift," Kaelor replied simply, eyes steady as he looked down at her. He stood tall at 1.8 meters, while she, a head shorter, met his gaze without flinching.

"Of course you did," she murmured with a knowing grin. "You made the whole town love you. Your gift is a blessing, a great one."

She turned to look at the distance beyond the buildings. Faint shadows of firelight flickered, and voices echoed from the square, laughter, banter, the clatter of plates.

Kaelor’s eyes narrowed slightly. Vi was right. The system was a blessing. Without it, he would have remained a pawn in the hands of the town head, used, silenced, and eventually discarded.

Just like his mother.

"Your gift has something to do with fusing what’s already available to make something questionably outrageous compared to what was there beforehand," Vi said, glancing at Titan lying curled up at the farthest edge of the yard, his massive form asleep but still intimidating.

She then turned her full attention to Kaelor, her voice steady but her eyes burning with something deeper. "It’s a powerful gift. The Barbarian Primarch could give blood to people and it would alter their very bodies, changing them from the inside out. Bone structure, muscle density, stamina, everything. I’ve seen some of them, they’re nearly twice the size of a regular man, with strength and endurance that defy even what’s known about the limits of the ranking. Once, I saw the remains of one, its bones alone were over four meters long."

She paused for a moment, as though measuring the weight of what she was about to say. "Do you know what’s absurd?" She exhaled sharply through her nose. "A normal man doesn’t have that much blood to give. Nor can he absorb the blood of hundreds and remain sane, let alone survive. And yet... gifts. They break all logic. They laugh at the rules. Someone besides me made a massive wall in under two weeks, something that should’ve taken a year with a workforce of thousands."

"Not when we had an Acranist on our side," Kaelor replied, almost defensively.

Vi gave a faint smirk, but there was no joy in it. "You sound envious of gifts, when you’re already such a powerful Acranist. You command the elements. You can fight off ten trained men at once, even if they’re Adepts. And if given time to prepare, your spells can level a battalion or shatter fortified structures. Isn’t that power great enough?" Kaelor tilted his head.

Vi bit her lower lip and looked away, her voice growing quieter, more vulnerable. "I almost died teleporting you and some of your Guardsmen back to the town before the Direwolf attack. There are Acranists out there with gifts that let them tear open the void as if it were cloth. Some can twist time and they do it without suffering the price I nearly paid with my life."

She tilted her head up toward the sky, her silver hair catching the light like a waterfall of moonlight. "No matter how hard you work, no matter how many people praise you for being gifted or talented..." She looked back at him. "It just can’t compare to having a good gift."

Neither of them noticed when Mildred slipped away.

Kaelor let out a long, measured breath. "You don’t have a gift, so you want one?"

Vi blinked. Her eyes shimmered, as though something ancient stirred within. "I wish I could just..." For the briefest instant, Kaelor thought her pupils changed, elongating like slits, but as quickly as it appeared, the illusion was gone.

Vi lowered her head and turned, clearly about to leave, when Kaelor gently took her wrist. "Come. Since you don’t feel like joining them, have tea with me and Mildred..."

He turned toward his side, only to pause. Mildred was nowhere to be seen. He was about to call out when the door creaked open, and she stepped outside, her presence calm and grounding.

"I’ve prepared tea," she said, her voice soft as a drifting breeze.