Chapter 89: Ten Months

Neo’s POV:

Ten months.

That’s how long it had been since I first came into the territory the elves called Veldra.

Looking back on it now, it felt almost surreal how much had changed in that time, both around me and within me. I’d grown taller, noticeably so, enough that Diana had stopped calling me "the boy" sometime around the fourth month and switched instead to grumbling about how she’d need to start looking up at me soon if I kept it up. My shoulders had broadened slightly from the constant training, my frame settling into something leaner and more defined than the softer, normal build I’d carried before any of this started. My silver hair had grown out as well, falling messier and longer than I usually kept it, enough that I’d taken to tying it back whenever I trained to keep it out of my face.

Even my features had sharpened somewhat, the last remaining traces of boyish softness finally giving way to something closer to the face I’d eventually grow into as an adult. More than once, I’d caught my own reflection in the still surface of the village well and genuinely paused for a second, not quite recognizing myself at first glance.

’Guess ten months of hard training and questionable food will do that to a person.’

The fake ears had been Diana’s idea, of all people. One of the village’s remaining craftsmen had made them from thin leather, carefully shaping and dyeing them until they looked almost identical to the pointed ears everyone else had. They weren’t perfect up close, but from any reasonable distance, they did the job well enough that most newcomers passing through, and there were occasionally a few, traders from other scattered settlements, wandering hunters, never once questioned whether I actually belonged.

At first, wearing them had felt strange. The leather tips would rub against my real ears and itch enough to be distracting. But after a while, I got used to them. Now, putting them on every morning had become as routine as putting on my boots.

I’d settled into Veldra far more comfortably than I ever expected to, honestly.

Most mornings began with training, just like they always did. I spent hours delving deeper into the Scripture, with the occasional frustrating attempt to summon Soulfire—usually ending with nothing to show for it.

By midday, though, I would leave the training behind and wander through the settlement. Somehow, I had fallen into the village’s quiet routine, and before I knew it, moving through its familiar streets had become a normal part of my day.

"Neo! Can you help me carry this?"

An older woman named Fennel waved me over from near the communal storehouse, gesturing toward a heavy sack of grain she’d clearly been struggling with alone. I jogged over without hesitation, hoisting it easily onto my shoulder.

"Where’s this going?"

"Just to the kitchens, dear. Bless you, my back isn’t what it used to be."

I carried it over, and the moment I set the sack down, she greeted me with a warm smile before pressing a small, wrapped pastry into my hand. As usual, my half-hearted protests that it really wasn’t necessary were completely ignored.

That had become something of a pattern over the past several months. I helped where I could, carrying supplies, fixing fences, occasionally sparring with some of the younger hunters who wanted pointers on footwork, and somewhere along the way, without ever really intending to, I’d become something close to a minor local celebrity.

"There he is! Neo, come settle an argument for us!"

A cluster of younger villagers waved me over from near the training yard, and I wandered toward them, already anticipating some ridiculous dispute I’d be roped into mediating.

"What’s the argument this time?"

"Toren here thinks a Ridgeback Crusher could take down a Direfang one-on-one. I think he’s an idiot."

"You’re both idiots. A Direfang would tear a Crusher apart without breaking a sweat. They’re not even in the same tier."

"See? I told you!"

The argument soon turned into harmless bickering. I stayed there for a while, listening to them go back and forth, occasionally throwing in a comment of my own. There was something strangely comforting about it, being able to sit among them without having to think about anything else.

It wasn’t hard to see why I’d become so well-liked around here. I helped whenever I could, rarely refused when someone needed a hand, and never used my strength to make myself feel superior. Apparently, that was a lot more unusual than I had expected, especially considering whatever experiences they’d had with humans before me.

Maybe I had my parents’ morals to thank for that. Or maybe some of the personality from my past life had stayed with me after all. Honestly, I wasn’t sure.

"You’re too nice for your own good, you know," Mira said one day.

She was watching me patiently guide a group of young kids through their footwork drills, even though my own training had already fallen noticeably behind schedule.

From the outside, it probably looked like an act of kindness. From my point of view, though, I was just killing time.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who could spend every waking hour training, and without a smartphone or anything else to keep me occupied, there wasn’t exactly much to do around here. So I ended up hanging around with the kids.

Of course, I couldn’t resist messing with them a little. I’d turn their games into training exercises and make them beat each other, pretending it was all part of some serious lesson.

Nobody needed to know that I was mostly doing it because I was bored.

"Didn’t realize being helpful was considered a character flaw."

"It’s not. But if you’re not careful, they’ll work you to death around here. These people latch onto kindness when it’s already rare enough."

She hadn’t been wrong, exactly, though I didn’t particularly mind it. There was something oddly peaceful about it all, honestly, a strange kind of normalcy I hadn’t expected to find out here in the middle of a elven settlement. For the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn’t playing some careful, calculated role, dodging political traps or managing noble expectations. I was simply... helping. Existing. Being useful in small, uncomplicated ways.

It was almost enough to make me forget, some days, that I wasn’t actually supposed to be here at all.

By the time the afternoon sun had crept past its peak, I finally made my way toward the familiar, weathered hut tucked at the edge of the settlement, nodding briefly to a few more villagers along the way, before knocking lightly on Senya’s door.

"Come in," her raspy voice called from inside.

I stepped through, finding her exactly where she usually was, settled into her worn chair near the small window, a steaming cup of herbal tea resting on the table beside her.

"You wanted to talk?" I asked, settling onto the familiar stool across from her.

Senya studied me for a long moment, her sharp, weathered eyes tracking carefully over my face, as though noting every small change the past ten months had carved into me.

"You’ve changed quite a bit. Not just in appearance." A faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

"Guess training and spending so much time in a new place changed me a little."

She let out a familiar chuckle. "Perhaps. Though I suspect it’s more than just that."

I waited, sensing there was more to this particular conversation than simple idle observation.

Her expression shifted slightly, settling into something more serious, the easy humor fading from her weathered features.

"It’s been ten months, Neo Draven. And the change I’ve been watching for—the shift I warned you about when you first arrived—still hasn’t happened. Not yet."

My chest tightened slightly. "You mean the vision? The one about the village burning?"

She nodded slowly. "The threads surrounding this place have shifted considerably since you arrived. Whether that’s because of you directly, or simply because the natural flow of fate has drifted on its own, I honestly cannot say for certain." She paused, her gaze drifting toward the small window again. "But something else has changed as well. Something I need to discuss with you properly."

A faint, uneasy chill settled over me at the shift in her tone.

"What is it?"

Senya’s grip tightened slightly around her teacup, her sharp eyes finally meeting mine directly.

"The opposing thread..."

"The one I warned you about. It has grown significantly louder these past few months. Loud enough now that I believe something important is about to happen soon. Something involving you both. I don’t know exactly when it will happen or what will happen, but whenever it does, I know it will come with a heavy loss."