Chapter 2486: The Third Fastest

Caelren stood before the Nethum Ancestor with a faint smile on his face, his attention shifting between the old man and the projection hovering above the table.

The image showed a young human with emerald eyes, standing before the Creation Tower’s challenge formation. There was nothing particularly impressive about his appearance, and even after Caelren extended his senses through the recording, he couldn’t find anything that would explain why his ancestor had personally summoned him.

"Is this the person you wanted me to meet?"

The elder nodded.

"Sylas Grimblade. I want you to enter the Creation Tower and challenge him."

Caelren’s brows rose, but he didn’t immediately agree. He had only recently returned to the Nethum Clan, and although he expected to receive certain responsibilities as a result of his accomplishments, being sent to challenge some unknown human hadn’t been among them.

"What for? Surely the Clan has better things for me to do."

"You’re not going there to defeat him. You’re going there to test him, and I want you to be as thorough as possible. Push his Rune Mastery to its limits, observe how he handles increasingly complicated problems, and report everything you learn."

Caelren’s expression turned curious.

"And if I happen to defeat him?"

"Then stop before you do."

The young man’s smile faded.

"Ancestor?"

"If you find yourself on the verge of victory, back off and allow him to win. If you accidentally defeat him anyway, simply accept a second challenge and lose that one. Whatever happens, I don’t want you ending his streak."

Caelren stared at the old man for several seconds before looking toward the projection again. He had expected to be told that Sylas possessed some dangerous background or that his ancestor wanted to establish friendly relations with a powerful Clan, but the instructions he had received were considerably stranger.

"Who exactly is this person?"

The elder waved his hand, causing the projection to change.

Rather than a Rune Creation challenge, Caelren found himself looking at an enormous battlefield filled with geniuses from countless Races. A World Serpent was descending through a portal from the God Plane, and at its center stood the same human, holding a peculiar weapon formed from a scythe and a calligraphy brush.

"This happened not long ago. Watch."

Caelren’s eyes narrowed as Sylas began writing across the skies, each Stroke carrying a weight that seemed to reach through the projection itself.

Human.

Twenty-nine.

Three.

Milky Way.

At first, Caelren didn’t understand the significance of the words, but as the manifested galaxy appeared and enormous chains wrapped around it, his expression began to change.

"A Summoned world?"

"One that had remained beneath the restrictions of the Mortal Plane for almost his entire life. The third number represents how long he had access to the power necessary to begin escaping those restrictions."

Caelren looked toward his ancestor.

"Three hundred years?"

"Three."

The young man froze.

"Three years?"

"Less than that, according to the information we have. He was born a Mortal, spent almost his entire life without access to the system, and then climbed to the Demi-God Plane in less than three years. And now, before anyone has even properly adjusted to that fact, he’s suddenly a God."

Caelren’s smile disappeared.

The speed of that advancement was difficult to comprehend. Even among the Nethum, where extraordinary talent was practically a requirement for survival, such a thing should have been impossible.

"Is the information reliable?"

"You just watched him reveal it through his own Will, before countless witnesses, including those from the God Plane. If you understand anything about what happened on that battlefield, you should understand why he wouldn’t have been able to establish such a narrative with lies."

Caelren fell silent, his attention returning to the projection as the image of the Milky Way disappeared.

For the first time since returning to the Clan, he felt a genuine sense of curiosity toward someone of his own generation.

"Now do you understand why I want you to test him?"

"I understand why he’s interesting, but not why you’re so interested in him."

The Ancestor chuckled.

"Then you haven’t thought about what our Clan has been doing for countless generations."

Caelren’s gaze sharpened.

"The trials?"

"What else? Why do you think we send our children to the lower Planes, strip away their memories, and force them to survive without the protection of their bloodline? We could raise every one of you here, surrounded by resources and inheritances that lesser Clans would sacrifice entire worlds to obtain. Instead, we throw away most of our descendants before they even have an opportunity to understand what they’ve lost."

"Because adversity forces evolution."

"Precisely. We believe that removing the protection of our Clan allows a child to develop in directions they otherwise never would, and that those who return will possess foundations that cannot be replicated through ordinary cultivation."

The elder leaned forward, his gaze settling upon Sylas once more.

"But look at this human. No Nethum Bloodline, no knowledge of our methods, and certainly no Ancestor arranging the conditions of his growth. He was born beneath restrictions even our trials rarely reproduce, and yet he has accomplished something that puts the vast majority of our descendants to shame."

Caelren understood.

The Nethum Clan had been attempting to engineer precisely this sort of growth for countless generations, sacrificing an enormous portion of its own bloodline in pursuit of those rare individuals who could overcome impossible circumstances.

And Sylas Grimblade had accomplished something even more outrageous without belonging to them.

"So you want to know whether his growth came from his circumstances or whether there’s something unique about him."

"Among other things. We know remarkably little about him beyond what he chose to reveal. Perhaps there are inheritances involved, perhaps he encountered opportunities we haven’t accounted for, or perhaps his talent is simply that extraordinary. I have no intention of drawing conclusions before gathering more information."

The Ancestor gestured toward the challenge formation.

"That’s where you come in. Your Rune Path is exceptionally suited to exposing weaknesses in the methods of others. Your comprehension of positioning and timing allows you to recognize inefficiencies that even experienced Rune Creators overlook, and your ability to coordinate successive Strokes gives you an advantage in solving problems where the correct sequence matters."

Caelren nodded.

His Path revolved around the coordination of Rune Strokes within the Mesh of Reality, allowing each movement to prepare the next before the previous one had even finished taking effect. It was an extension of the Dexterity the Poise Heaven specialized in, but rather than applying that precision to his body alone, he had incorporated it into the way his Will interacted with Runes.

"If his solutions are imperfect, I’ll find out."

"Exactly. I don’t care whether you can outperform him in a particular challenge. What I want to know is where his comprehension begins to falter, how he responds when he’s forced away from his preferred methods, and whether his reputation reflects genuine ability or merely an abundance of fortunate encounters."

Caelren smiled.

"And if I discover that he’s not nearly as impressive as you think?"

"Then we’ll have learned something useful. But don’t allow your own accomplishments to blind you, Caelren. Being the third fastest descendant to return in our Clan’s history is exceptional, but that doesn’t mean you’ve already seen the limits of talent. And you should also be smart enough to understand that speed isn’t the greatest measure of talent in our Clan either. Sometimes patience is the answer.

"Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast."

The young man bowed his head.

"I understand."

A formation appeared beneath his feet, and after giving his ancestor one final nod, Caelren stepped into it.

**

When Caelren opened his eyes again, he found himself standing opposite a young man with emerald eyes.

Sylas Grimblade.

Caelren immediately began examining him, his attention settling upon the faint fluctuations of Will surrounding his body. He had expected someone who had progressed so quickly to possess a certain instability, some trace of the excessive accumulation of power that inevitably accompanied rapid growth.

Instead, he found nothing of the sort.

His brows furrowed, and he was just about to introduce himself when the challenge formation activated.

Caelren’s expression darkened.

’How arrogant.’

He hadn’t even been given an opportunity to speak, yet Sylas had already initiated the challenge as though the person standing opposite him wasn’t worth acknowledging.

No matter. If the human wanted to rush, Caelren would simply demonstrate the importance of patience and precision.

His gaze shifted toward the incomplete Rune appearing between them, and he began examining the relationship between its Strokes, preparing to determine which sequence would provide the most efficient solution.

However, before he could finish identifying the problem, a notification appeared.

—

[Challenge Complete]

[You Have Lost]

—

Caelren froze.

His gaze moved from the notification to the Rune that had already disappeared, then back toward Sylas, who hadn’t even bothered looking at him.

For several seconds, the young Nethum genius stood motionless, unable to understand what had just happened.

He hadn’t even begun.

A new challenge was triggered.