Chapter 22: Spark in the Dark
[2 Hours Later.]
[Outskirts. Heaven Orphanage.]
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Three heavy knocks sounded on the black gate, vibrating through the quiet, dilapidated street of the slums. The iron was rusted and cold, standing as the only fragile barrier between the city’s abandoned children and the cruelty of the night. And after some minutes, the door opened. An old woman walked out, her shoulders hunched from years of carrying burdens that belonged to the society that ignored them. Staring at the empty space in confusion, she narrowed her tired eyes, then lowered her gaze to the box on the ground.
With a confused expression, she bent down, and picked it up... The cardboard was surprisingly heavy. After some hesitation, fearing it might be a cruel prank by the local gangs, she opened the box, and coming to view was money, filling it to the very top. Stacks of crisp, untraceable bills from the liquidated assets of the Iron Guild stared back at her. She blinked, stunned, her breath hitching in her throat, staring at the note in it.
[For the kids.]
She shakily closed the box, her hands trembling so violently she almost dropped their salvation. Moving her gaze all over the place, scanning the dark alleyways and rooftops, but found no one. Without another word, overwhelmed by a miracle she could never comprehend, she dropped to her knees:
"Whoever you are, Thank you!! The kids will never forget this kindness!! Thank you."
__
Asher walked down the street, hidden safely in the shadows a block away. The black hoodie he just bought covering his head, acting as a simple but effective disguise, as he moved down the lonely night, his arms tucked away in the pockets. The screams of the dying Iron Guild members and the fat pig were a distant memory; right now, he felt a strange, quiet peace.
He brought out one of his hands, staring at the red gemstone with a small frown. The energy inside the crystal pulsed with a rhythmic, intoxicating warmth.
{Evolution Stone: Gotten from an S-Rank Dark elf.}
{Skill: Can help with cultivation.}
{Note: Master will need 50 S-Rank Evolution stones to advance to B-Rank.}
’50 S-Rank... How many will I need in the future then? Besides, there is no way a C-Rank can defeat one S-Rank, let alone fifty. And if they move as a party of ten, they will still get wiped out, unless three A-Rank or one S-Rank is amongst that team, so getting 50 of this is out of the question.’ He clenched the evolution stone in his hand, feeling the sheer, impossible scale of the requirements.
The gap between each rank was something that can’t be breached by strength or Physique alone. It was a biological and spiritual threshold. The creature Asher killed was an S-Rank monster, but when he fought it, the dark elf was only A-Rank in output, meaning it already sustained severe injuries from whoever it had fled from... Currently, Asher thought this was the reason the Monster easily dropped dead, applying pure, grounded logic to the situation, unaware he was far abnormal from ordinary Awakeners.
Not only could he bring out the full might of any rank weapons without suffering backlash, he has a Celestial-Tier physique, making him the most dangerous swordsman on the planet, but Asher himself doesn’t know this yet. He still viewed himself through the lens of an underdog.
Asher kept the stone in his pocket, deciding to figure out the cultivation math later, and continued walking down the empty street toward the affluent sectors of the city.
__
[Another Hour Later.]
He finally reached his community, and walked inside, not sparing the gate securities a single glance. He could feel the unease and shock from the five men as they saw him pass under the streetlights. Some hours ago, he was taken away by the Iron Guild, a notoriously ruthless syndicate. They thought he would be killed, or maybe have some of his limbs broken and tossed in a ditch, but here he was, walking down the community street without a scratch on him. His aura even felt different now—heavier, sharper, commanding absolute respect without uttering a single word.
Asher completely ignored them. No matter how he wanted to give each one of them a good beating for letting armed thugs onto his lawn, he decided against it. The community still has rules, and making enemies now isn’t a wise decision. He already has money. Soon, he will take his wives and find a much better secluded place where they wouldn’t be disturbed by the rotting Awakener society.
After walking for a while, he arrived at his own gate, and pushed it open, walking inside the familiar compound. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Sara, who sat on the porch, her book in hand. The cool midnight breeze gently rustled her hair. Asher blinked, checking his internal clock. It should be around 12 o’clock in the morning. Why is Sara still awake? Was she waiting for him?
He walked towards the porch, his footsteps light, staring as she raised her head, her deep, silent gaze meeting his.
He walked forward, and slowly sat down beside her on the wooden steps, deliberately keeping a good distance between them so she wouldn’t feel crowded or threatened.
After some seconds of comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled with empty words, he watched as Sara brought out another notebook. Then opened it and wrote:
Asher sat still, waiting, respecting her tempo, and after some seconds, she handed him the book, and pen.
He took the note, staring at the words on it:
’Was there a problem on the way?’
He stared at the words. Although it was a small sentence, it showed Sara does care about his well-being. The trauma had sealed her voice and stolen her hearing, leaving her isolated in a terrifying world. She might not ask him directly, but this question proves that she was keeping watch, fearing for his safe return. He nodded, touched by the small gesture, and wrote down on the notebook, handing it back to her.
’Yeah, some small issues.’
He chose to keep the matter about the monster, the slaughter, and the burning guild a total secret. With everything Sara was currently going through, and the fragility of her mental state, it’s better to ease her worries than increasing them with tales of S-Rank dark elves.
Sara nodded, accepting his vague answer without pressing, and wrote again on the book, handing it to him:
’How did you advance so fast? Was it the old man again?’
Asher blinked, utterly lost. What old man?? After some seconds of frantic mental searching, he finally remembered the lie he gave her the previous night regarding the sword, and chuckled inwardly to himself. He made up the lie on the spot and forgot about it, while brilliant, observant Sara—remembered every single detail.
’Well, let’s go with it.’ He nodded his head, confirming her theory. And after some seconds of heavy hesitation, realizing that he finally had the means to change their destiny, he wrote down a promise he fully intended to keep, handing the notebook to her.
Sara took the book, her gaze lowering to the words, then froze in absolute shock. The pen nearly slipped from her fingers. She stared at it for a long while, her breath hitching, then finally turned to Asher, her eyes filled with countless emotions—disbelief, terror, fragile hope, and profound vulnerability.
On the notebook wrote:
["I know the way to cure the three of you... In one month, I will try and ease your pain. Hang on for now."]