Chapter 9

[Waterflow Manipulation – Lv. 12]
[Progress to Next Level: 87%]

He was nearing his thirteenth level. At least one level per day, rising without cease.

The strange glowing letters—what he now called his status window—had become his guidepost. With every increase in level, he felt it:

• The reach of his senses expanding.

• The volume of water he could command swelling.

• The speed and finesse of his control sharpening.

Every part of the spell grew stronger. Tangibly. Visibly. It was addictive.

He was still far from Zerion’s might—that was expected. Zerion had trained since childhood. Curtis had trained for days.

But even so…

He began to wonder—at this pace, how long until I surpass him?

And while Curtis honed his strength, the world outside kept turning.

Eventually, Zerion’s funeral came and passed.

Then—just as he had expected—so too did his sentence.

“I’m sorry, Curtis.”

The steward’s words fell like a feather—but they carried the weight of iron.

“Young Lord Lucius  has made the decision. You’re to be dismissed. I tried to speak on your behalf, but his mind is set.”

“Why apologize, steward? Someone had to take the fall.”

“Still… it’s a bitter thing. I can grant you a few days’ grace, at least. Time to gather yourself.”

“No need. I’ll leave today. I’ve nothing to pack that takes long.”

With an almost liberating calm, Curtis returned to his room to collect his few belongings.

As he did, a soft knock broke the silence.

Eliana stood in the doorway.

Worn from the funeral. Eyes tired. Yet behind the exhaustion, her gaze still burned sharp and clear.

“Lady Eliana. What brings you here?”

“I just spoke with the steward. He told me. You’re leaving.”

“I am. I failed my master. This is just consequence.”

“How is any of this your fault?” she whispered bitterly.

“Because if the Acting Lord decides so, then it is. That is how the House works. You needn’t apologize, my lady.”

“Still,” she said, softly, “I should have done more. I’m sorry.”

Curtis shook his head.

He had already accepted this end. He had gambled on the House treating him with some measure of honor—for staying, for carrying the body, the legacy, the final words. But politics demanded sacrifice, and he had been convenient.

He had braced for reprimand—not accusation.

But dismissal? That, he’d expected.

In truth, had Eliana tried to fight it, it might have been worse. He no longer wanted to stay. Her apology was kind, but unnecessary.

“There’s something I meant to give you,” Curtis said.

“To me?”

“I should have delivered it sooner, but… you were busy, and I… well, I was in exile.”

From within his pack, he withdrew a small box—its lid stained with dried blood. He handed it to her with reverence.

“Lord Zerion’s final request. A gift for you. He bought it before the journey.”

“Let me see…”

Her fingers trembled as she took the box.

Inside, a pair of earrings—simple, yet elegant. A quiet beauty, just like the one they were meant for.

Eliana’s eyes shimmered.

But she did not weep. She shut her eyes and breathed deep, holding back the tide.

“…Thank you,” she whispered, voice thick.

She closed the box and placed it against her chest.

Then, steadying herself, she spoke again.

“Curtis. Do you know where you’ll go?”

“Not yet. I plan to leave the islands, though. Head to the mainland.”

“Leaving the Solar Archipelago altogether?”

“Yes. There’s no life left for me here.”

Curtis knew better than to remain in the shadows of his enemies.

The Pelagius family ruled these islands like kings. Even beyond Solta, their reach was vast.

“It’s wise,” Eliana said. “It won’t be easy to leave your homeland, but… it’s safer.”

She hesitated, as if weighing whether to speak.

Then, with a breath, she said the truth aloud.

“Honestly… seeing how things are now, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the three kills you.”

“Me? Murdered?”

“You know they hate you, Curtis. You saw it in the hall.”

“How could I forget?”

“I don’t know why they do. Maybe it’s just childish resentment—they hated Zerion and me, so you, by extension. But whatever the reason… they have power. And they don’t need a good reason to use it.”

“Then I see no reason to test their mercy.”

“Exactly.”

Her warning had been kind—but serious. Curtis saw now: if she was saying it out loud, it meant the threat was real.

He had to leave.

“They won’t chase you, though,” Eliana continued. “Not if you disappear. You’re not worth that much to them. Out of sight, out of mind.”

She let the silence fall, unwilling to drown him in endless worry.

Instead, she pulled out a pouch and placed it in his hands.

He opened it—and his eyes widened.

“This… this is…”

The First Death

“One hundred gold crowns. It’s not much, but… please take it.”

“Not much…? My lady, this is anything but modest.”

“The steward told me what happened. The House denied you severance. Said you were discharged for disgrace.”

Curtis said nothing.

“But I know what you did. For everything you gave, this is far from enough. I’m only sorry I couldn’t give more.”

A hundred gold crowns.

Enough to support a common family for several years.
Enough to fund the start of a new life.

Eliana insisted. And though Curtis might have once refused out of formality, the weight of the gift was too real—and her sincerity too deep.

“I won’t forget this kindness.”

“It’s not kindness. It’s justice.”

“The moment it came from you instead of the House… it became kindness.”

And for the first time since her brother’s death, Eliana smiled.

Faint, bitter… but real.

As she rose to leave, Curtis offered one final bow.

“Take care of yourself, Lady Eliana.”

“You too, Curtis. I hope fate allows us to meet again.”

With that, she turned and vanished down the hall.

Just like that, Curtis’s final tie to House Pelagius was severed.

He left the manor and made his way directly to the docks.

It was true—he hadn’t chosen a destination yet. But since he intended to leave the archipelago behind, options were limited.

In this world, there were no dedicated passenger ships. One traveled by merchant vessel, if space allowed. Unless you owned a ship outright, you went where there was room—and you paid.

The one exception was Quinis—the closest city on the mainland. With regular trade routes and daily crossings, it was always available.

“But Quinis is still their territory.”

The Pelagius family’s shadow stretched far over Quinis. Staying within its walls would be little different from remaining on the islands.

While asking around, Curtis heard of a ship bound for Nizerté.

He hadn’t even heard of the place before.