Aamon Celastine opened his eyes to soft light filtering through the canopy ceiling of the Celastine Domain. Unlike the day before, there was no tightness in his chest, no heavy burden dragging at the edge of his mind. For the first time in what felt like weeks, he felt… grounded.
He sat up, quietly disentangling himself from the bedding. His body felt lighter. Not just physically, but deep in his core. He could feel the shift in his being—the lingering aftereffects of the storm he had unleashed during the beast tide.
"Status," Aamon whispered.
A translucent screen flickered into existence before him:
[Name]: Aamon Celastine
[Race]: Human (Sealed)
[Physique]: Forbidden Physique
[Talent]: World Affinity (D-Rank)
[Evolution Points]: 37,000
[Unique Skills]: Evolution, Analytical Eye
[Legacy]: Awakening Legacy
Aamon's gaze lingered on the newly added line.
[Physique: Forbidden Physique]
He hadn't seen that term before. "Forbidden," huh? It didn't feel like a curse. On the contrary—it felt like something dormant had awakened within him, responding to the chaos, the fury… and Yue.
He clicked on the [Forbidden Physique] with a thought, but the system simply returned:
[Access to information denied. Requirements not met.]
"Of course," he muttered with a sigh.
Still, there was another pleasant surprise—his Talent had increased. From F-rank to D-rank. A clear leap. That had to be the reward for clearing the Memory Gate trial. Aamon knew such jumps weren't common. In this world, talent was considered one of the most rigid, immovable walls—but perhaps the Memory Gates had a way of shaking even the foundations of the world.
Yue stirred nearby, rising silently from her resting position. The moment their eyes met, a warmth passed between them—soft, quiet, and steady.
She gave a small smile. "Ready?"
He nodded, standing and stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. "Let's get back to it."
They stepped out of the Celastine Domain and into the still-ravaged cityscape beyond. The beast tide had left its scars on the walls and streets, but the people had survived. More importantly, they were rebuilding.
The mayor, an older elf man with tired eyes and a ceremonial green sash, hurried toward them with a respectful bow.
"Young warriors," he said, clasping his hands. "You saved our city. Please—accept a token of gratitude. Our treasury is modest, but what we have is yours to claim."
Aamon nodded, accepting the gesture with quiet dignity. Yue remained by his side as they followed the mayor to the city's central vault—guarded, but no longer sealed.
Inside were weapons, artifacts, rare herbs, and cultivation resources. After a quick scan with his Analytical Eye, Aamon selected a 5th Order sword—well-balanced and forged with spirit-infused metal—and a collection of cultivation crystals and refinement powders. Useful, if not earth-shattering.
"Thank you," Aamon said simply, and the mayor bowed again before stepping away.
Once back outside, Aamon turned to Yue. "No sign of Estelle, and the ambushers we dealt with mentioned nothing."
"We'll find her," Yue said. "We have to."
With a quick pulse of energy, Alexia was summoned from the Celastine Domain. She appeared in a ripple of violet mist, arms crossed, expression sharp as ever.
"Any leads?"
"Nothing yet," Aamon said. "Let's move."
And so, the search resumed.
For the next several days, the trio scoured the surrounding region—villages, ruins, forests, and ravines. Aamon mapped the territory, comparing landmarks with knowledge gathered from the legacy library. Time had warped the geography slightly, but some regions remained familiar.
But no trace of Princess Estelle.
Every night, Aamon retreated to the Celastine Domain, poring over ancient maps, texts, and folklore. He analyzed potential routes an elven royal might take in times of war. He calculated supply paths, refugee trails, and hidden glades. Still, nothing solid emerged.
Yue and Alexia took shifts watching him, quietly ensuring he didn't burn himself out. But they knew better than to try and stop him.
One afternoon, as golden light filtered through the emerald canopy above, Aamon and his team arrived at a secluded forest outpost manned by elven rangers. The outpost was modest, camouflaged into the trees, with only a narrow wooden bridge marking its boundary. Aamon approached calmly, Yue and Alexia flanking him.
A lone elven guard stepped forward to intercept them. He was lithe, with sharp green eyes and the poised discipline of a veteran archer. He studied them warily but did not raise his weapon.
"We're searching for someone," Aamon said, voice steady. "Princess Estelle of the Verdant Lineage. Have you seen or heard anything?"
The name had an immediate effect. The guard's jaw tightened, his shoulders subtly stiffening.
"That name," he said after a long pause, "is not to be spoken lightly."
Alexia took a step forward, her voice calm yet firm. "We don't speak it lightly. We are here to protect her. Nothing more."
The elf's eyes narrowed, as if weighing their sincerity. Then, he sighed and glanced behind him.
"There was a report," he finally admitted. "A large group of elves bearing marks of the Verdant Lineage were recently captured. Slavers from the Black Fang Syndicate took them. It's rumored they were seen being moved through the southern trade routes… to be sold."
Aamon's gaze darkened.
"The princess?"
The guard looked grim. "It's unconfirmed… but some believe she might be among them. Hidden in plain sight, perhaps even unaware of who she truly is. If so… she would be sold like the rest."
A heavy silence followed.
Aamon gave a small nod, expression unreadable. "Thank you."
He turned on his heel and left, Alexia and Yue silently following.
They returned to the Celastine Domain that night. Aamon entered the Awakening Legacy library alone, moving through the shelves with quiet urgency. The section on historic bloodlines and their fates lay dusty, untouched by time.
After a long search, he found the entry.
[Historical Record – Verdant Lineage]
Once proud stewards of nature's breath, the Verdant Elves stood among the oldest lineages in the Elven Triumvirate.
Following a devastating conflict, their warriors fell, their territories crumbled, and their royal bloodline was captured.
The remnants of the Verdant clan were enslaved.
The clan's sacred artifact—Verdure's Heart—could only be wielded by a direct heir of the royal bloodline. It was sealed and lost with the fall of the last bearer.
The final royal, Princess Estelle, was recorded as having been enslaved and designated as a concubine. Stripped of title and dignity, she eventually took her own life to escape unending humiliation.
The words seared themselves into Aamon's mind. His hand clenched the edge of the tome until his knuckles turned white.
The image of the quiet, brave elf girl who had given her life to protect him came unbidden to his thoughts. She had died with a smile after entrusting Estelle's rescue to him.
And yet… this was the fate history remembered?
No.
Not while he still breathed.
He stood, the pages of the record closing with a soft thump behind him. Yue and Alexia were waiting outside the library, having felt the shift in his aura.
"Aamon?" Yue asked gently.
"She dies," he said quietly. "In this timeline, she was captured. She was sold. She…" His voice caught, and then hardened like steel. "She took her own life to escape what they did to her."
A silence hung in the air—heavy, cold.
Alexia stepped forward. "Then we change it. That's what we're here for, right?"
Aamon nodded, the fire behind his eyes returning with a vengeance. "No matter what, we find her. And this time... she lives."