Chapter 292: The Weight Of Unconventionality

After hearing Regaleon’s explanation, the group saw little reason to press him with further questions or interrogate the details of his ascension.

It was not as though they believed the silver-haired Knight would deliberately conceal anything important from them. After all, if there was anyone among their companions whom they would trust with their lives, their fortunes, and even their remaining years, then that person would undoubtedly be Regaleon.

Their confidence in him extended beyond his position as their leader. Titles could command obedience, and authority could compel cooperation, but neither was sufficient to earn the sort of unwavering trust they had placed in him.

And though Regaleon didn’t know it, leadership was something he had secured through his actions; by demonstrating time and again that he was dependable, courageous, and willing to shoulder burdens that others might readily abandon.

They remembered the Drake’s cave, where he had been prepared to die fighting if doing so would give the rest of them an opportunity to escape. He had not hesitated to place himself between his companions and certain death, even when survival seemed like a distant possibility.

In the days that followed, he continued to prove that his commitment to knighthood was not an empty declaration embroidered upon an idealistic heart. It was a conviction he upheld through sacrifice, restraint, and an unwavering determination to protect those who had placed their faith in him.

Regaleon did not merely claim to be a Knight. He lived by the principles that made the title worth bearing, even when doing so offered him neither recognition nor reward.

Consequently, the others saw no reason to question his explanation about the Essence Crystals. Whatever circumstances had led to his ascension, they trusted that he would share what mattered when the time was right. Until then, there was little virtue in prying into matters he had chosen not to elaborate upon.

Of course, their confidence in him was not the same as an inability to be curious. Some of them, after all, possessed more curiosity than good sense.

Valmyr was an excellent example.

Having allowed Kaeloris’s questions to conclude, the bulky Vanguard stepped forward, his broad shoulders casting a substantial shadow across the ground.

His eyes gleamed with such intense curiosity that one might have mistaken him for a child who had just discovered a treasure chest. Unlike Kaeloris, who preferred to dissect mysteries through careful observation and logical inquiry, Valmyr was considerably more interested in discovering whether the results could be tested against something solid.

And considering his fetish for battles and fights, then it would be preferably something that could withstand a sword strike.

"So, Regaleon," he asked, leaning forward with an eager grin, "how strong is your Halberd now?"

The question drew the attention of the others almost immediately. Even Aureleah, who had been standing a short distance away with her usual composed expression, shifted her gaze towards the weapon in Regaleon’s hands.

Regaleon glanced down at the Halberd before giving it a measured swing.

The weapon sliced through the air with a low, resonant whistle. Its polished surface caught the faint crimson illumination filtering through the forest canopy, while the shaft settled naturally into his grip. He rolled his wrist, testing the balance, then adjusted his hold and performed another controlled sweep.

There was a noticeable difference.

The Halberd no longer felt like a weapon that he needed to persuade into obeying him. Its weight, balance, and response had become remarkably harmonious with his movements.

Regaleon stopped the motion and examined the blade thoughtfully.

"Well, I cannot say for certain just how much stronger it has become," he admitted. "I would need to test its abilities properly before making an accurate assessment. What I do know, however, is that it is unquestionably stronger than it was before."

He turned the Halberd slightly, allowing the blade to catch the light.

"Besides, now that it has finally reached the same Tier as my Armour, I expect the two to work together much more effectively. Their synchronization should improve considerably, allowing me to make better use of both Soul Essences in combat."

His expression brightened with restrained satisfaction.

"For someone who has spent so long struggling with the difference between them, having both on equal footing is certainly a welcome change."

Valmyr nodded approvingly, apparently satisfied with the explanation. He looked as though he would have preferred a practical demonstration, but even he understood that testing a newly ascended weapon in the middle of the Nether Lands might be an invitation to unnecessary trouble.

Vaelorin, however, had a different observation to offer.

"If only your House knew what kind of ability you possessed," the red-haired youth remarked with a snort. "Aetherium alone knows whether they would still have exiled you."

His words were delivered casually, but the question beneath them was difficult to miss.

"Like, wasn’t one of the main reasons they sent you away the incompatibility between your Soul Essences?"

The atmosphere changed almost imperceptibly.

Regaleon’s hand remained wrapped around the Halberd’s shaft, but his fingers tightened for a moment. He did not immediately answer. Instead, he stared at the weapon as though its newly polished surface had suddenly become more interesting than the conversation.

Several seconds passed, then several more.

For over ten seconds, he remained silent, allowing Vaelorin’s question to linger between them. The others gradually became aware of the shift in his demeanour. Valmyr’s eager expression softened, while Kaeloris adjusted his spectacles and wisely refrained from offering an observation of his own.

Even Vaelorin seemed to realize that he might have wandered into less comfortable territory than intended. At last, Regaleon shook his head and released a long sigh.

"You know what, Vaelorin? I do not think we should dwell on the past." His voice remained calm, though a faint weariness had crept into it. "What is done is done, and there is no way to turn back the clock. Whatever happened, I cannot change it by spending the rest of my life wondering how things might have been different."

He offered a small, almost dismissive smile.

"Besides, if I spent every day arguing with the decisions other people made about my life, I would never have enough time to make any decisions of my own."

Vaelorin studied him for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I suppose you are right." He scratched the back of his head, his earlier enthusiasm giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "There is no point dwelling on old grudges and broken ties. We have more than enough problems to deal with already, and I suspect our journey to Sanctuary will provide us with several new ones."

"Several?" Valmyr interjected, his eyebrows rising. "That is a remarkably optimistic estimate. Given our recent experiences, I would be surprised if we managed to reach Sanctuary without encountering something determined to eat us, poison us, or otherwise make our lives miserable."

The exchange drew a faint smile from Regaleon, and the tension eased. For a moment, the conversation returned to its familiar rhythm, sustained by the group’s peculiar mixture of camaraderie, bickering, and shared misfortune.

Yet Regaleon’s thoughts had already begun to wander.

It was not Vaelorin’s teasing that troubled him, nor did the memories of House Valehart cause him any particular pain. Those experiences belonged to a distant Chapter of his life, and he had long since learned to live without expecting anything from the people who had cast him aside.

What unsettled him was the implication hidden within Vaelorin’s question.

Would things have been different if House Valehart had known what he was capable of becoming?

The answer, regrettably, was not as straightforward as he would have liked.

It was true that his inability to awaken like the prodigy he had been expected to become had contributed to his isolation. House Valehart had certain expectations for its heirs, and Regaleon had failed to meet them long before the Awakening Ceremony exposed the full extent of his supposed shortcomings.

However, his difficulties had become far more pronounced after he awakened two Soul Essences of incompatible Tiers.

That was when disappointment had hardened into resentment, and the family’s patience had begun to resemble a door slowly closing in his face.

There was another complication, one that few outside House Valehart would properly appreciate.

Armour was among the prestigious defensive relics that members of his House could awaken, second in prominence only to the shield in the traditional hierarchy of their martial heritage.

Their offensive Soul Essences, meanwhile, followed more established patterns. Swords, war hammers, bows, and other conventional weapons were familiar manifestations among the family’s warriors.

Halberds were another matter entirely.

They were not unheard of throughout Aetherium, but within a House as ancient, prestigious, and rigidly traditional as Valehart, such an awakening would have been extraordinary.

The weapon’s reach, versatility, and demanding techniques made it a formidable choice, yet it was hardly the sort of manifestation their elders would have expected from one of their heirs.

Had Regaleon awakened a Halberd of a higher Tier, his circumstances might have unfolded very differently. An unprecedented Soul Essence, particularly one capable of complementing his Armour, could have transformed him from a disappointing heir into an object of fascination.

Perhaps he would even have received greater acclaim than his exceptionally gifted half-brother.

But fate, apparently possessing a taste for cruel irony, had chosen to present him with something extraordinary in the least convenient manner imaginable. Instead of granting him a single, magnificent Soul Essence worthy of celebration, it had given him two incompatible ones and left him to bear the consequences.

Regaleon almost laughed at the thought... Almost, but he didn’t.

These memories did not wound him as they once might have. He had no desire to return to the past, demand apologies, or seek recognition from people whose opinions no longer determined his worth.

Nevertheless, recalling those years stirred something he would rather leave undisturbed: the faint, persistent curiosity of a man wondering whether the world would have treated him differently if his potential had been apparent from the beginning.

It was an unproductive question, and he knew it.

As for whether House Valehart would regret its decision upon discovering how far he had progressed, that remained an uncertainty he could neither confirm nor dismiss.

Perhaps they would reconsider their judgment. Perhaps they would attempt to reclaim what they had once discarded. Or perhaps pride would prove stronger than reason, as it so often did among those accustomed to having their decisions obeyed.

Regaleon had no intention of arranging his future around any of those possibilities.

Still, there was one answer he could not give himself.

Perhaps he would discover it the day they met face to face again. A day he increasingly doubted would ever come...