Chapter 36

The dining room was quiet except for the occasional clatter of dishes as Nick's parents cleared the table. The day's warmth still lingered, and the faint aroma of spices from dinner filled the air, doing interesting things to his senses. There were molecules there, he knew, but he couldn't spot them yet. It made him wonder how precisely he could fine-tune it to be.Nick sat with his elbows on the table, chin propped in his hands, watching his parents move about the room while chatting. Devon had already left, and usually, he'd be halfway to his room by this time, as he had a lot of experiments he needed to run and theories he wanted to prove. Not tonight. Eugene caught Nick's gaze as he carried a stack of plates to the sink. "So, what's on your mind, kiddo?" he asked with a grin. Nick shrugged, though the way his foot tapped against the wooden floor gave him away. "Just some stuff I've been thinking about." Sёarᴄh the NôvelFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Now that's dangerous," Elena laughed, sharing a knowing glance with Eugene. She wiped her hands on a towel and set them on the counter. "I knew you were too quiet tonight." Eugene chuckled, crinkling his eyes with amusement. "Quiet's not the word I'd use. Look at him—he's practically buzzing." Nick straightened, trying to tamp down his eagerness. "I just thought we could talk after you're done. No big deal." "Alright, mister 'no big deal.' Give us a few more minutes, and we'll sit down." Elena chuckled. I probably should have asked Dad earlier. I still have a tendency to do everything by myself, but the literal commander of the force that guards the forest is my father! If there's anyone who knows about it, it's him. And even if he doesn't answer directly, the way he avoids my question will tell me a lot. Nick felt like he had been waiting for hours as his parents finished cleaning, unhurried despite his clear impatience. He busied himself by tracing patterns in the table's wood grain, mentally organizing his thoughts. Finally, when the last dish was set to dry, and the dining room returned to order, they joined him on the worn sofa by the fireplace. Eugene stretched his arms over the backrest, pulling his wife to rest against his chest. "Alright, kid. What's this about?" Nick hesitated for a heartbeat before diving in. "I know the Green Ocean is dangerous, but Darien made it seem like the lizard we faced yesterday was out of the ordinary, and I've been hearing rumors of similar attacks happening more often. We also talked about it in class today: a kid asked if the Prelate's visit had anything to do with the hubbub about treasures. The Vicar mentioned something about increased activity, but he didn't provide much detail." Eugene hummed, tapping his fingers against the arm of the sofa. "It's true that the forest has been acting up a little," he admitted. "Nothing wildly unusual, though. It ebbs and flows; it always has. You'll get stretches of calm, then a spike in danger. Adventurers usually pick up on the patterns before anyone else, so it makes sense they're up in arms, but I wouldn't worry too much about it." Nick frowned. "But how would a treasure be correlated with the increased activity?" He knew it was a dungeon but wanted to see what his father would say. Eugene's face darkened briefly, but he waved a hand as if brushing the thought away. "Powerful treasures pop up once in a while: flowers that bloom once every century and gems surfacing after a battle churns the ground. The specifics can vary wildly, but again, it's not something we aren't equipped for. You can rest assured that your dad is ready for anything." Nick wasn't so easily swayed. The way Eugene dismissed the topic felt too casual, too practiced. But pressing his father further wouldn't get him anywhere, so he nodded, filing his observations away for later. "Okay," Nick said, leaning back slightly. "What about the delegation from the temple? Why come now? They've never sent a Prelate here before, have they?" Elena raised an eyebrow, crossing her legs as she considered the question. "You sound like you're worried they'll come after you," she teased. "I doubt Vicar Alexander would ask someone as high up as a Prelate to discipline a student just because he enjoys making a nuisance of himself." Nick shook his head quickly. "No, it's not that. It just seems odd. We've gone years without needing extra help from the main temple, and now, suddenly, they're sending someone important. The Vicar made it sound like they are coming here on their own, not because they were asked to." Eugene leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're not wrong. It is strange timing. But temples have their own ways of doing things. They're big on traditions and obligations, most of which make no sense to anyone outside their inner circles." "Or inside them," Elena added dryly. "Remember the lunar blessing debacle a few years ago? They spent three days chanting over a water basin, and nothing happened." Eugene chuckled. "Exactly. They'll come, they'll do their rituals, and they'll leave. Unless you're planning to join their ranks, I wouldn't waste too much energy worrying about them." "No way." Nick's response was immediate and vehement, drawing laughter from his parents. "Don't you have to be an Acolyte class anyway?" "That class is rare and often only appears in orphanages run by various temples. If that were the only way they had to recruit, they would have closed long ago. No, they offer a class change ceremony to those who undergo specific training," his father replied. Considering the number of acolytes in Floria's temple and that, as far as Nick knew, only one kid received that class during the ceremony, that made sense. It also aligned with what he knew of organized religion: class change ceremonies were prohibitively expensive for common folk but readily available to them. Elena patted his knee. "Relax, we're just teasing. But seriously, Nick, you shouldn't let their presence bother you. Your father and I won't let anything happen to you." Nick wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe the delegation's presence was as innocent as everyone seemed to think. But he was too jaded to drop the matter entirely. "So you're not worried at all?" he asked, his gaze flicking between his parents. Eugene's expression softened. "Nick, there's always something to worry about. That's just life. But these are things we've dealt with before. Trust that we'll deal with them again." Nick nodded slowly, his father's words grounding him, if only a little. "Okay. Thanks." Elena smiled, ruffling his hair. "Anytime, kiddo. Now, if you're done interrogating us, how about we go through a repetition of the Stalking Gait before bed? Don't think I haven't noticed you finally got the skill!" Nick groaned but stood, following her. It wasn't that he had wanted to keep it a secret, but his mother's exercises always left him sore beyond belief. Still, he dutifully began following the breathing pattern, allowing his worries to disappear, if only for a moment. Elena's presence next to his served as a guiding rhythm. For every revolution, she matched his pace, allowing the power to flow around them so smoothly he was sure he'd have barely noticed in another room. Now that he could follow the skill's activity, he was even more conscious of just how good she was at it. If he had to guess, he'd say she had it mastered. He hated to admit it, but even just going through basic breathing training alongside her helped him find and smooth out knots in his technique. I really should have done this earlier. I've been very busy since I got the skill, sure, and Mom's been training Devon like crazy, but I shouldn't let my interests overwhelm me. Then, something disturbed the moment. Nick's instincts twinged, and he opened his eyes, not knowing what he was sensing but certain it was there. And if there was one thing Nick had learned in his time here, it was to trust his instincts. A faint buzz of tension in the air was Nick's first clue. He sat up straighter, straining to identify its source. Before he could speak, his parents were already moving. His father rose from the sofa in a single fluid motion, his face set in a grim mask. Elena followed close behind, crossing the distance in a flash. The knock came just as Eugene grasped the handle. The rapid pounding carried urgency, and when the door swung open, Darian's burly frame filled the entryway. The grizzled veteran looked haggard, his shoulders tense, and his mouth set in a thin line. "We've got a situation," Darian said without preamble, his voice low and rough. "We need you to come in." Eugene nodded without hesitation. "Give me two minutes." He turned back toward the stairs, already unbuttoning his shirt to change into his armor. "What's going on?" Elena asked, stepping closer to Darian. Her voice carried an edge of worry, though her expression remained composed. Darian hesitated, his eyes flicking to Nick. His frown deepened, but after a moment, he sighed. "The expedition came back," he said slowly. "It didn't go well. Arthur had to handle a monster train alone after someone on the team made a bad call. Lots of injuries. Now there's talk of more gathering and that they might stampede this way." Elena's hand went to her mouth. "What were they thinking, drawing them toward the town?! I can't believe they were forced that far with Arthur there." "The others are still gathering stories, but apparently, a kid brought a concoction meant to draw monsters because he thought he could farm some levels under Arthur's watch." Darian's tone turned grim. "Of course, the vial broke during a fight and drew hundreds to them." Nick felt his stomach twist. Suddenly, the uneasy feeling made much more sense. He wanted to ask more, to understand precisely what had happened, but Eugene's heavy footsteps as he descended the stairs cut him off. He had donned his heavy-duty armor, made of alchemically treated leather and enchanted metal plates. Nick knew it was overkill for the routine patrols, so the fact that his father had brought it out meant things were serious. His sword hung at his side, and his shield was slung over his back. He looked every bit the seasoned warrior Nick had always admired, and the sight alone made something settle in his chest despite knowing that if Arthur hadn't been enough, there was little his father could do. It was a childish instinct, but he couldn't fight it. "Love," Eugene said, his voice softer as he approached his wife. He kissed her forehead and gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll be back soon." Turning to Nick, he placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Be good. Explain things to your brother if I don't come by morning, will you?" Nick opened his mouth to protest, but Eugene was already heading out the door, with Darian close behind. The two men disappeared into the night, melting into the darkness. A moment later, they accelerated abruptly and left his senses entirely. Nick clenched his fists, frustration and worry bubbling up inside his gut. His father might have told him to stay, but every fiber of his being screamed to follow, to do something. Before he could take a step, Elena's hand rested gently on his shoulder. Her touch was firm yet comforting, anchoring him in place. "Nick," she said softly, meeting his eyes. "I know you want to go. Believe me, I do too." "Then why don't we? You're a powerful adventurer! I'm sure you could help!" She smiled faintly, though there was a sadness to it. "Because it's his job to protect the town. And my job—our job—is to respect that. He's more than capable of handling this." Nick swallowed hard. "But what if he's not?" Elena's hand tightened on his shoulder. "He is," she said firmly. "And even if he wasn't, we can't undermine him by second-guessing. He won't hesitate to ask for help if it's needed." Her words punctured Nick's resolve like a pin deflating a balloon. The argument drained out of him, leaving only the cold weight of worry. He nodded reluctantly. "Alright," he muttered. Elena gave his shoulder a final squeeze before releasing him. "Go get some rest," she said gently. "Morning will come soon enough." Nick didn't reply. He trudged up the stairs, his thoughts a whirlwind of anxiety and frustration. Devon's snores rumbled from the other room, irritatingly normal given the circumstances. Rest felt impossible. Nick flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned. His father was out there, facing who knew what, and he was stuck here, powerless. But maybe he wasn't. The idea came to him suddenly, and he sat up. He couldn't be there physically—his mother would never allow it—but there was another way.