Veil of Aether

During the days leading up to the tournament, Auserre found herself watching Kei Y closely. He was practicing his rune strokes again, this time trying to replicate the earth force signature emitted by the little cub he’d taken from the fractured zone. The precision of his movements and the smoothness of his transitions made her speak up.

“Khenu,” she called out, “you really are a marvelous genius when it comes to runes—or in your case, rune strokes. Why don’t you move on to full runes already? Especially since it hasn’t even been that long since you learned to use this combat system.”

“Oh, that’s simple really,” Kei Y replied without looking up. “I just want to build a solid foundation first. Rune strokes feel like the appropriate starting point. The better the base of my runes, the stronger they’ll be down the line, no?”

“That’s true,” Auserre nodded slowly. “But something else baffles me. You’re… incredibly well-rounded. Your rune strokes are a cut above all the so-called geniuses your age I’ve seen. Most of them started practicing runes the moment they learned to circulate aether—and kept at it for years. If you only just learned about runes… what was your main fighting style before this?”

Kei Y glanced her way for a moment, then returned his focus to his strokes.

“Hand-to-hand, mostly. Still working on it though,” he said. “I’m decent enough to survive. Force techniques were something I only leaned on occasionally, since I didn’t want to build bad habits around overreliance.”

“Your hand-to-hand is excellent,” Auserre admitted, “but it still needs refining. As a God Spark, force techniques should be your strongest suit, and yet… you don’t seem to rely on them much. You don’t follow a pattern either. You just… do whatever you want in the moment. Mostly with your Breeze Force.”

“That’s because Breeze Force is what I was born with,” Kei Y shrugged. “It’s only natural I try to make it my main focus. But you’re right—I do understand some of the other minor Wind Forces. I’ve dabbled in Zephyr Wind, Storm Wind, Pulsewind…”

“I can sense that,” Auserre nodded. “You lean on them for offense. But your Breeze Force… it feels too passive for direct combat.”

Kei Y agreed. “Breeze Force is pretty bad at doing damage—but it’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

“Really?” Auserre tilted her head.

“Yeah,” Kei said with a small laugh. “It’s really good at pushing me out of the way.”

There was a long pause.

“…That’s a way to use it, I guess,” Auserre muttered under her breath, blinking. “But if you had to pick one—what would you say your strong point is?”

Kei Y paused for a moment, then responded with a calm smile.

"Throwing," Kei Y answered.

Auserre blinked. Of all the possible answers, that wasn’t the one she expected. After everything he’d demonstrated—the force control, the precision, the stealth—throwing?

"That's the path you're planning to follow?" she asked, almost unsure if he was joking.

"Not necessarily," Kei Y replied with a shrug. "Anything that keeps me alive, really. Just so happens I’m really good at throwing." He even sounded a little proud of it.

Auserre narrowed her eyes. "I suppose that makes some sense. You do have that self-created skill of yours..." Her gaze drifted toward the Shima Enaga bird fluttering around, a reminder of his unique combat style. She remembered vividly how he’d turned the tide during the fight with Aterix—right after he activated his throwing skill.

"But how did throwing become your best skill?" she asked, clearly intrigued now. "Like, how did that even start?"

Kei Y scratched the back of his head. "First real life-or-death fight, I guess. I was being chased up a tree, and the only 'weapon' I could find was a pile of pebbles. So I practiced throwing them for a bit... and I used them to win that fight."

Auserre stared at him, unsure how to respond.

"That’s… rather... unique," she finally said, carefully choosing her words so it didn’t come off as an insult.

Then, almost too casually, she added, “Can I experience the full range of your throwing abilities?”

Kei Y gave her a look—part confusion, part concern—as if wondering if this was some sort of trap.

"...Why do you want to experience that?" he asked, wary now.

“You’re already strong as you are now,” Auserre said, lowering her cultivation to Recruit Class. “And you’re telling me I haven’t even seen you at your strongest? Of course I’d like to see you go all out. If there’s anything you’re struggling with, we can use this one-on-one time to fix it. You told Aterix that movement skills are your weakness, right?”

Kei Y gave her a strange look, his expression tight. He didn’t quite know how to voice his concern.

“Uhhh… Master?”

“Hmmm?” Auserre tilted her head.

“…Aus,” Oceanna cut in with a sigh. “Don’t you think it’d be a smarter idea to raise your strength at least to Soldier Class?”

She glanced at Kei Y knowingly. The look on her face said exactly what he was thinking.

Even Kei Y nodded a little, as if silently begging for backup.

Auserre blinked. “…Why? I thought the goal was to push you in your current state.”

“Yes, but if I push back with what I’m capable of, you might end up eating dirt,” Kei Y muttered under his breath.

Oceanna raised a brow at her student. “You wanted to see him go all out, didn’t you?”

Auserre’s eye twitched. “Fine. Soldier Class it is… but don’t complain if I break a few bones.”

“Deal,” Kei Y grinned, already shifting his stance. “Let’s see if you can catch me this time.”

In that moment, Kei Y tapped into his budding understanding of Earth Force. Subtle though it was, it was enough. He quickly drew a few rune strokes across the ground, causing a small cluster of pebble-sized rocks to rise into the air. With a casual motion, he grabbed them, his smile sharpening.

“Well, Master,” he said, voice light but focused, “if you’re ready… ten.”

Auserre tilted her head. Watching her student summon the pebbles was particularly surprising—what caught her attention more was the sudden declaration of the number ten. Her gaze dropped to his hand. Sure enough—ten pebbles.

But then Kei Y muttered, “Eight.”

“Huh?” Auserre blinked.

BANG. BANG.

Two resounding impacts struck her ribs from both sides, forcing her to stagger back a few steps. She looked down to find two pebbles embedded in her sides, each one glowing faintly with orange aether—Aether-infused.

Her eyes darted back up—only to catch the flicker of Kei Y’s grin before he vanished completely from view.

Auserre immediately flared her senses and summoned a defensive water shield behind her, sensing his presence from that direction. Even his voice echoed from behind her.

“Six.”

CRACK. CRACK.

She winced as a sharp pressure slammed down on her head, followed by a sudden strike to her chin. Reeling slightly, she stumbled back—just in time to see Kei Y standing casually in front of her, holding six remaining pebbles in his hand.

“I could’ve sworn I felt you behind me…” Auserre muttered, rubbing her jaw.

“Oh, that’s my Phantom Breeze skill,” Kei Y said, twirling a pebble. “Been experimenting with it lately. Told you—Breeze Force has its uses.”

Feeling inspired by her student’s creativity, Auserre decided to better understand the mechanics of his throwing techniques. With a flick of her fingers, she summoned several small orbs of water into the air. The orbs hovered briefly before solidifying into glistening spheres of ice.

“Get ready,” she warned, her arm already moving.

She snapped it forward in a sharp motion—the orbs tearing through the air with frightening speed, aimed directly at Kei Y.

Sensing danger, Kei Y immediately folded into the wind—his form vanishing in a blur.

But Auserre wasn’t so easily fooled.

Her eyes narrowed. The moment he disappeared, the orbs vanished too, following his movement. The instant he reappeared, they struck.

THUNK. THUNK.

Kei Y staggered slightly, a grunt slipping from his lips as the orbs slammed into him.

Watching from the side, Oceana raised a brow, mildly impressed. “That’s a rather impressive skill you’ve got there. Not often you come across someone who can disappear and teleport like that. Is that a Breeze Force ability?”

Still recovering from the hits, Kei Y rubbed his side and exhaled. “No, not quite. It’s mostly rooted in Zephyr Wind movement. I picked it up from the Apex Wind Boss I fought a while back. Thought it looked useful… and kinda cool. I mimicked how he used his wind.”

He tapped his chest and added, “After defeating him, I actually got the skill too—[Tempest Step]. But honestly, I’ve mostly used it for reference and inspiration. ”

“Why not just use that as your main movement skill?” Oceanna asked. “It’s effective.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Kei Y shrugged. “It’s useful and all, but it’s not Breeze Force. If I rely on it too much, it feels like I’m forcing myself to use someone else’s method. It takes too much conscious effort to maintain. Doesn’t flow naturally.”

He pointed toward the air with a subtle flick of his fingers. “What I am leaning into is using Wind rune strokes—small bursts of acceleration shaped by aether. That’s more in line with how I want to move. Controlled. Directional. Mine.”

“Why the strong emphasis on Breeze Force, though?” Oceanna pressed, curiosity piqued.

Before he could answer, Auserre suddenly flinched and screamed out in pain.

“Ah—FUCK!” she yelled, clutching her forehead as two pebbles—glowing faintly with orange aether—fell from her hairline, having embedded themselves without her noticing.

Kei Y smiled sweetly at his grandmaster and said simply, “Four.”

“Aussie, how did you not notice that?” Oceanna asked, raising a brow. “I clearly saw him move his arm to throw.”

“I just… didn’t,” Auserre muttered, still rubbing her forehead.

Both women turned to Kei Y, who offered an innocent smile. “Breeze Force. Really unassuming, isn’t it?”

“That earlier skill you used—you called it Phantom Breeze, right?” Oceanna asked, intrigued. “What’s the principle behind it?”

Kei Y leaned back casually. “Everyone ignores the gentle breeze, don’t they? So I shape my presence like that—light, forgettable. I make myself unassuming to other people’s senses. That way, I can move, act, throw—without drawing attention. Neat, huh? It was actually the first skill I ever created.”

“And you can apply it to your attacks too?”

“Yup.”

Auserre, meanwhile, was still off to the side, muttering something under her breath while gingerly poking her forehead. The slight wince every time she touched the spot only made Kei Y’s grin grow wider.

Watching her student, Oceanna let out a soft sigh. “I swear, every time you’re up against these kids, I can’t see the terrifying figure so many people claim to fear.”

Kei Y blinked, unsure whether that was a compliment or a complaint. He glanced at Auserre, who just shrugged, and the two quietly resumed their sparring session.

Eventually, Kei Y launched all the pebbles he had prepared, even using the final two to activate Lethal Bloom, causing glowing petals to blossom from his projectiles, obstructing Auserre’s movements and vision mid-fight.

“Good thing I was already at Soldier Class, or I’d be in serious trouble,” Auserre muttered, brushing stray petals off her sleeve as she reviewed his performance. “That throwing strength of yours is sharp and dangerous.”

“So,” Kei Y said between breaths, “what do you think, Master?”

“You’re definitely much stronger when throwing—that’s for sure,” Auserre admitted, folding her arms. “But that Tempest Step-inspired movement technique… it still doesn’t feel like it fits you. We’ll work on something more natural. What impressed me more was that Phantom Breeze skill. If you pair that with Creation Force, you could customize your projectiles to suit your style—especially since you’re already a crafter.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” the Vendor chimed in, appearing behind Kei Y without warning.

Moments later, Kei Y was flat on the ground, completely drained. Sweat poured down his face as he clutched one of three pebbles—each formed using Creation Force and resembling the ones he’d made with Earth runes. Even with just three, the surrounding aether was noticeably thinner; everyone could feel the drain.

“Why is it… when I was hanging upside down before… it didn’t drain me this bad?” Kei Y wheezed between gulps of air.

“Mostly your intent,” the Vendor replied casually, kneeling beside him. “Back then, you were experimenting. Curious. Light touch. But this time? You intended to make weapons. The moment that goal formed, Creation Force adjusted to match your purpose—more complexity, more density, more cost.”

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Honestly, the fact you didn’t kill yourself outright is kind of impressive. I halfway expected I’d be digging your grave after the first attempt.”

Kei Y groaned. “That’s… not comforting.”

“Good,” the Vendor said, grinning. “Means you’ll remember it.”

“So what about when I added Creation rune strokes to boost my other rune strokes?” Kei Y asked, still breathing heavily. “It wasn’t this terrible back then.”

“Your idea to use Creation Force to aid your other rune strokes was just that—aiding,” the Vendor replied. “That’s more like giving your technique a boost, rather than making Creation the primary structure. If you were to make Creation Runes your main focus, then yeah—it’d be far more draining.”

He tapped a finger to Kei Y’s forehead.

“And also far more powerful.”

A few more days passed, and while Auserre continued guiding the others in their training, she still made time to help Kei Y refine his skills. The Vendor, as usual, remained focused on Kei Y’s progress with Creation Force crafting. It didn’t take long before a new self-created skill appeared in Kei Y’s status screen—Whispering Breeze, the movement skill he had developed with help from both Auserre and Oceana.

Whispering Breeze… it blended Phantom Breeze’s misdirection with subtle wind-guided acceleration—his first true movement technique shaped entirely by Breeze Force.

The Vendor also helped him improve his throwing techniques. After days of practice and brutal trial-and-error, Kei Y finally managed to craft a rather unique projectile—though he could barely remain conscious afterward. Even so, it marked a small but meaningful success.

“I swear, God Sparks are cheaters,” the Vendor muttered, watching Kei Y collapse face-first into the dirt. “No one else at the Recruit stage should have enough aether access to even use Creation Force, but here he is—just doing whatever he wants because aether likes him.”

He crossed his arms and grumbled.

“I’d have probably killed myself trying that back in my day.”

To track their progress and test Whispering Breeze in a live setting, the two Kei’s—Kei Y and Kei M—faced off.

From the very first exchange, it became clear that Whispering Breeze wasn’t just fast—it was deceptive. Phantom presences flooded Kei M’s perception, the battlefield littered with ghostly impressions that made it nearly impossible to pinpoint the real Kei Y. Even Kei M’s echolocation, one of his most reliable tools, struggled to trace the source. The moment he locked onto something, it would dissolve, the sound displaced, redirected by the breeze as if deliberately mocking his senses.

The movement skill’s true strength lay in its seamless manipulation of aether and airflow—Kei Y glided across the field with no friction, no sound, no presence. To Kei M, it felt like Kei Y was teleporting—flitting from place to place without pattern or origin, always just out of reach.

Mentally, it was overwhelming. The more Kei M tried to understand it, the more it unraveled his focus. His body remained sharp, but his thoughts lagged behind, unsure whether to react to the left, right, or the echo behind him.

To the others watching the duel from the sidelines, however, it told a very different story.

They didn’t see phantoms or distortion. They saw Kei Y gliding effortlessly around Kei M, each movement almost casual. In contrast, Kei M spun and turned, his head darting side to side like he was chasing shadows, visibly confused.

It was clear to everyone present:

Whispering Breeze didn’t just aid movement. It disoriented enemies, broke formations, and turned any field into Kei Y’s domain.

At the end of the match, Kei M had become so shaken by Whispering Breeze that he no longer trusted anything he saw. So when Kei Y casually walked over and offered a hand, saying “Good match,” Kei M panicked.

With a startled screech, Kei M instinctively unleashed a sonic blast that launched Kei Y several meters through the air—sending him crashing into the wall with enough force to knock him out cold.

By the time Kei Y woke up, the throbbing in his head was unbearable. But more than the pain, what weighed on him was guilt. He sat up slowly, glancing around to see Kei M still staring at him warily from across the room, brows furrowed in doubt.

“…I’m sorry,” Kei Y muttered, holding his head. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Kei M didn’t respond at first. Instead, he crept forward cautiously and poked Kei Y in the cheek—as if to confirm he was real. Only after a few seconds of intense staring did he finally nod.

To make it up to him, Kei Y asked, “Anything I can do to help? Seriously. Just say the word.”

Kei M hesitated for a moment, then finally made a request. “My yo-yo. The one you made. I’ve been thinking about a few adjustments…”

Hearing that, the Vendor perked up from his corner, sensing a teaching opportunity. He wandered over and smacked Kei Y on the back—making the headache worse—and grinned. “Perfect! Time to teach you more about creation rune strokes—and what makes them so different from relying on raw creation force.”

As Kei Y set to work and the others gathered around, the Vendor tilted his head thoughtfully and asked, “Now that I think about it… You’re pretty familiar with a lot of forces—enough to incorporate them into rune strokes—but Creation Force? That one’s rare. Just how’d you come across it?”

Kei Y blinked. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve made friends with Ice and Fire Vipers, and an Ice Fellhorn. I know someone who uses Healing Force. I’ve met Thunder Force creatures too, but… Creation Force? I don’t remember ever encountering anything like that.”

He paused for a second, gaze drifting.

“Well… there was that time after a fight. I felt these sharp piercing pains all over my body. I was bleeding a lot.”

Auserre raised an eyebrow. “And… why would that make you familiar with an unknown force?”

“Oh. Easy. That’s because—”

Before he could finish, Silvie’s head whipped toward him, her entire posture snapping upright. Her face screamed panic—not the casual kind, but a sharp, suffocating dread. Like whatever Kei Y was about to say needed to never be spoken aloud.

Oceanna, ever the observer, caught it immediately. The tension in Silvie’s body wasn’t just alarm—it was desperation. Her instincts screamed that something dangerous was about to be revealed.

And so, without warning, Oceanna sent a subtle pulse of aether through the room. It wasn’t enough to knock anyone off balance, but it caused Kei Y to flinch—cutting him off mid-sentence.

Everyone turned toward Oceanna.

She blinked innocently. “What?” she said, shrugging slightly.

But Kei Y wasn’t fooled.

He glanced over at Silvie and saw it—the sheer terror still frozen on her face. A realization dawned on him. Slowly, his eyes widened in horror as the memory clicked.

He’d nearly revealed it.

His unique skill.

His pristine aether.

[Bond].

He didn’t fully understand what it meant to have a unique skill, but he did know that his pristine aether—his blood—was the reason he could form these strange, powerful connections. It was the reason he could resonate with other Forces and use them in his own style.

He also remembered, all too clearly, how Silvie had warned him.

Now, watching Silvie pale from panic and press a trembling hand to her chest, Kei Y understood. Really understood.

Some truths weren’t just secrets—they were catastrophic.

And he had almost let one slip.

In the days that followed, Kei Y refined his mastery of Creation Rune Strokes—specifically learning how to use them efficiently without draining himself to the brink of unconsciousness. With that, he was able to finish the requested modifications on Kei M’s yo-yo weapon. So when Mia came asking about adding her design to her mask, Kei Y had already developed enough finesse to handle a relatively simple crafting request with ease.

During that same time, while Kei Y was still tweaking Kei M’s weapon, Auserre approached him with a suggestion that caught him off guard: a throwing weapon. It was something Kei Y had considered crafting in the past but never got around to—every time he tried, something else demanded his attention. But hearing it from his master? That gave the idea new weight.

And so, he poured his remaining time crafting.

The weapon was completed just before the opening ceremony. Silvie even provided the wood needed to make the specialized ammunition.

All of that, however, was just the long-winded backstory to what happened next.

Because the moment the kids arrived to meet their assigned teammates—and the tournament began—they, along with every other Kingdom’s representatives, were suddenly teleported high into the atmosphere.

Below them stood a massive pyramid, glowing faintly with aether.

The rules were simple.

Each side of the pyramid represented a cultivation realm for all the kingdoms:

• One face for Recruit Class participants.

• One face for Soldier Class—led by none other than the Crown Prince of Amunar, whose team included someone that left the kids wide-eyed in disbelief.

• And one face for Specialist Class, whose team leader for Amunar made Kei Y raise a brow—not because he was shocked, but because the choice was so… obvious, it somehow still surprised him.

The goal of this round was deceptively simple:

Reach the ground without touching the pyramid.

Not once.

As the recruits began falling, Kei Y calmly raised his arm. Attached to it was his newly crafted weapon—a sleek, sling-like launcher strapped along his forearm.

He loaded a spear-shaped projectile, adjusted his posture, cocked his arm back…

BOOM.

The force of his throw was so intense, a shockwave of wind pressure blasted away nearby recruit class from other kingdoms, carving a wide open path through the sky for his team to descend safely.

For a brief moment, everything paused.

Even the Soldier Class participants stopped mid-descent.

Even the Specialist Class leaders looked over.

All of them staring at the strange weapon on Kei Y’s arm.

“A... is that an atlatl?” one of the contestants muttered, blinking in disbelief.

But if that wasn’t enough of a spectacle—

then Sylvie made sure it was.

Still in her masked disguise and plummeting beside her team, she suddenly began to sing.

Loudly.

“PYRAMIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!”

And somewhere behind her, that other masked figure—yes, Kei Y—chimed in like a dutiful background singer:

“Like a pyramid, like a pyramid...”

The entire recruit field didn’t know whether to dodge falling debris or start clapping along.

Up in the skybox where the kings, queens, and rulers watched the opening round, several turned toward the King of Amunar with raised brows and utter confusion.

“…Are those your children?” one of them asked, almost delicately.

The Amunar King didn’t respond. He simply turned, lowered his head… and covered his face with both hands.

“What have I done?” he whispered.