Chapter 86 Homecoming (2)

Words : 1493 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

I woke up early the next morning, the faint hum of Avalon stirring outside the window. My family was already up and about, and as I walked into the kitchen, I found my father fastening the strap of his scabbard, preparing to head to the guild. "Arthur, hang out with Aria today, will you?" my mother said cheerfully as she set a cup of tea on the counter. "I've got to go with your father." "So early?" I asked, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from my eyes. "Early bird gets the worm—or the guild paperwork," she replied with a tired but fond smile. My mother wasn't a mana user—only a Red-ranker—but she was deeply involved in the management of Minerva, the Bronze-ranked guild my father ran. In the Slatemark Empire, guilds were graded like gemstones: Diamond, Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron. Only twelve guilds in the Empire had reached the coveted Diamond rank, known collectively as the Twelve Great Guilds, and their guildmasters were trillionaires with power that rivaled nobility. Even Silver-ranked guildmasters were comfortably lounging in the billionaire club. My father's guild, while not at that level, was still immensely profitable. Retiring as a knight captain, he'd turned his expertise into an enterprise, raking in enough wealth to live in luxury and send me to Mythos Academy without breaking a sweat. The guild wasn't just about slaying beasts; it was about harvesting their value. Bones, skins, mana stars—everything a beast had to offer could be monetized, and Minerva did its job well. After we saw our parents off, I turned to Aria, who was practically bouncing on her toes. "So, what do you want to do?" I asked. "Someplace fun!" she declared with the enthusiasm only a fourteen-year-old could muster. "Fun costs money," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Pick something that won't leave me broke." "Cheapskate," she muttered, heading off to get ready. I sighed and did the same. When we were both set—me in a leather jacket, her in a denim one—we stepped out to one of the self-driving cars we owned. High-end, luxurious, and the kind of thing that subtly whispered, 'Yes, we're rich, but we don't like to shout about it.' seaʀᴄh thё nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "How about breakfast first?" I suggested as we climbed into the back seat. "Le Poilte!" Aria chirped. I frowned. 'Le Poilte? Is that trying to be French?' But I put the destination into the car anyway, the world's single global language ensuring that no one really knew how to pronounce things anymore. The car whisked us out of the gated community and into the vibrant sprawl of Avalon. When we arrived, I stepped out and froze. "This is a coffee shop?" I muttered, staring at the colossal three-story building in front of me. It looked more like a luxury hotel or a corporate headquarters than a place to grab a caffeine fix. Aria tugged at my sleeve, dragging me inside. The interior was sleek and modern, with polished floors that reflected the soft glow of ambient lighting. The patrons were sparse but distinctly high-status, the kind of people whose net worth probably had an entire department of accountants assigned to it. "How expensive is this place?" I asked, already regretting my decision to let her choose. Aria's grin turned mischievous. "Oh, nothing much. A coffee here is just… five thousand dollars." I nearly choked. "Five. Thousand. Dollars." I stared at her, my mind racing to calculate how many actual coffee beans it took to justify that price. "What the hell do they put in the coffee? Liquid gold?" "Please, brother!" Aria clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with mock innocence. "I'll even call you big brother if you buy me one." "No chance," I replied flatly, though the twitch in my eyebrow betrayed my mounting frustration. In the end, I sighed, defeated, and followed her to the counter to request a table. Aria's face lit up with the kind of joy that made me wonder if I'd just been expertly manipulated. We were shown to a private booth—because of course even the seating here was high-end—and handed menus that made my wallet flinch. As I stared at the menu, my soul slowly dying with each eye-watering price tag, a server walked in and set down two cups of coffee. "Excuse me, we didn't order yet," I said, glancing up. "A lady sent these your way," the employee replied with a polite nod. "Please enjoy." Before I could process that, Aria gasped, her voice practically shaking with excitement. "Brother, brother! Do you know what this is? It's the gold swirl coffee! It costs seventeen thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars!" My jaw dropped. "Seventeen—what—who even—" Words failed me entirely as I stared at the glistening, golden-flecked liquid in the cup. 'What kind of madman sends strangers coffee worth a small fortune?' Aria, meanwhile, was already reaching for the cup, her eyes sparkling with glee. "Brother," she said dramatically, "you attract some very interesting people." That much, at least, was painfully true. I took a cautious sip of the infamous gold swirl coffee, fully prepared to declare it an overhyped gimmick. But, to my great annoyance, it was incredible. Not just good—no, this coffee tasted like it had been brewed by the hands of divine baristas themselves, each bean coaxed into perfection by the whispers of angels. The flavor wasn't merely rich; it was transcendent, like drinking liquid ambrosia that somehow also gave you a mild buzz of energy without any unpleasant jittery side effects. Of course, the reason this coffee could even cost such an absurd amount of money wasn't just the taste. Beverages like this, in this world, had practical benefits too. This wasn't just coffee; it was essentially a C-grade elixir disguised as a hot drink. Enhanced physical recovery, sharper mental clarity, and an overall feeling that life just wasn't as bad as you thought—all packed into one golden cup of extravagance. But seventeen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars? It still wasn't worth it. Not even slightly. At least my wallet had been spared the slaughter, thanks to the mysterious benefactor. We stuck to ordering sandwiches, which—though hilariously overpriced at fifty dollars—were still delicious. Between the coffee and the food, I had to admit the experience was, begrudgingly, enjoyable. "You're lucky someone bought us coffee," I muttered, giving Aria a pointed look as she cheerfully demolished her sandwich. She giggled, entirely unbothered, while I sighed and tried not to think about how much more I could've saved if we'd just stayed home. "Anyway," I said, steering the conversation toward something more productive, "have you thought about which academy you want to go to?" Aria leaned back in her seat, brushing a crumb off her denim jacket. "Not really," she admitted. "But I don't want to stay too close to home, that's for sure. You moved halfway across the world; I should at least get to pick somewhere else in the Empire." That made sense. Mythos Academy was special—it was on its own island, completely independent from the seven superpowers that ruled the world. But Aria, being a citizen of the Slatemark Empire, didn't have that kind of freedom. Students here didn't have the luxury of international visas. Academies only accepted students who were citizens of their continent. If Aria wanted to study elsewhere, she'd have to go through the arduous process of applying for citizenship—or marry someone from a different continent. Both options were long, complicated, and not exactly practical for a fourteen-year-old. "Well, you'll get into a very good academy no matter what," I said confidently. Aria was no slouch. She might not be Mythos material yet, but she wasn't far off. With a bit of work and luck, she could even qualify for Slatemark Academy—the best in the Empire. She grinned at me, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You think so?" "I know so," I said firmly. I studied her for a moment, noting her growing strength. She had the potential to reach Integration-rank in the future, and that alone would open up plenty of opportunities for her. "You've got the talent," I added, taking another sip of the ridiculously expensive coffee. "The only question is how far you're willing to go to use it." "Farther than you, probably," she quipped with a smirk. I shook my head with a wry smile, but inwardly, I was proud. She had a spark—a drive that promised she'd make her own mark on the world. And while I wasn't sure what lay ahead for either of us, I knew one thing: she'd be just fine.

Chapter 86 Homecoming (2)

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