Wood groaned. It was a high-pitched, screaming sound of fibers tearing under impossible pressure. Splinters flew past my face, hot and stinging, slicing tiny lines into my cheek. "Yield, monster!" Elara roared, her eyes burning with golden light. Holding a block of compressed oak shouldn't have felt like holding back a falling mountain, but here we were. My palm burned as the holy energy from her sword bled through the wood. Cold sweat dripped into my eyes, blurring the sight of her glowing, angelic face. "It's just oak!" I yelled, teeth gritting so hard they threatened to crack. Golden light flared brighter, blinding me. She didn't buy it for a second. "Do not mock me with your lies, shadow-weaver!" she snarled, pressing downward. Pressure built in my knees, forcing me to bend. Under the strain, my boots began to slide backward across the stone floor of my workshop. Failing now meant absolute death. This was the problem with having an F-Rank physical build. If I didn't have my Attribute Archive, I would have been turned into paste three seconds ago. Desperation drove me to act. Summoning my remaining focus, I tapped into my stored reserves. A faint blue light flickered around the edges of the wooden block. [Extracting: Density III] [Applying: Shock Absorption II] [System Note: Target stability compromised. Maximum capacity reached.] "You wield a dark shield of forbidden origin!" Elara shouted, her gaze locking onto the blue glow. Her voice echoed off the stone walls, filled with absolute righteous conviction. I wanted to scream that I literally took the shock absorption from an old mattress, but explaining my F-rank skill to an angry paladin seemed like a waste of breath. Silently, I clenched my jaw and braced for the impact. "A minor barrier won't save your soul!" she declared. Furious at my silence, she raised her free hand, gathering a ball of pure, crackling light. "Wait!" I shouted, raising my hands as much as the crushing weight allowed. "You've got this all wrong! I'm just an apprentice. I make tea kettles and repair door hinges!" "Silence, deceiver!" Elara's voice was a clarion bell of absolute certainty. "The high priests of the Sun Temple have read the stars. They spoke of a shadow rising in this very province. An architect of ruin who operates from the dark, manipulating merchants and nobility alike." "I don't manipulate anyone!" I protested. "I haggled with a merchant twice because his prices are highway robbery! That's not a conspiracy, it's just basic economy!" "Your words are venom," she replied, her face a mask of holy indifference. "You engineered the downfall of Baron Vane. You stripped his guards of their armor's protection using foul curses." My hand had touched their breastplates for five seconds to make them slightly more brittle. They were corrupt tax collectors who were beating a kid. But to her, my minor act of petty sabotage was the opening move of a grand, kingdom-toppling campaign. Every single thing I did to survive was being twisted into some terrifying master plan by a paranoid pantheon. Our gods have decreed your end," she continued, her golden blade humming with lethal intent. "They will not allow another dark era to dawn." Desperate for an escape, I scanned the cluttered workshop. Behind her, a jar of refined oil sat on a high shelf. Focusing my mind, I activated my skill at a distance. [Target acquired: Glass jar of linseed oil.] [Extracting attribute: Frictionless II.] [Applying to target area: Stone floor tile, coordinates 4, 12.] Instantly, the patch of floor directly beneath Elara's left boot lost all traction. Slipping violently, her foot slid outward, throwing her perfect posture off balance. Her golden energy blast went wide, tearing a massive hole through my ceiling instead of my skull. Chunks of plaster and splintered wooden beams rained down around us. "Foul wizard!" she hissed, flailing her arms to regain her balance. "You manipulate the laws of friction itself without a single incantation!" "I'm just very creative!" I shouted, scrambling backward on my hands and knees. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every breath felt like inhaling hot ash as the dust settled over the ruined room. Looking at her, I could see her divine aura flare even brighter, compensating for the physical imbalance. She was a monster in her own right. No human should have been able to recover that quickly from a complete loss of traction. "Your parlor tricks will not save you from the light," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper. Step by step, she advanced, her glowing boots melting the very stone where the oil had spilled. Golden fire licked at the edges of her silver armor as she burned away my status effects with pure, unadulterated divine energy. This was cheating. How was an F-Rank commoner supposed to compete with a literal cheat-code of a paladin? Struggling to my feet, I gripped a nearby metal pipe. [Extracting attribute: Heat Conductivity IV from forge coals.] [Applying to target: Metal pipe.] Iron in my hand turned white-hot, glowing with a fierce, angry orange light. Throwing it at her feet, I hoped the sudden burst of thermal energy would slow her down. She simply swiped her sword, cutting the glowing metal pipe clean in half. "A pathetic attempt," she sneered, her eyes locked onto mine. "Your dark flames are weak compared to the sun." "They aren't dark flames, it's thermodynamics!" I yelled, backing into a corner. My back hit the sturdy wooden workbench, trapping me. Fear clawed at my throat, cold and suffocating. I hated this feeling. Memories of my past life flashed before my eyes—the agonizing weight of being entirely powerless while others decided my fate. I had promised myself when I woke up in Aetherion that I would never let anyone make me feel small again. Yet, here I was, cornered by a self-righteous zealot who thought I was some ancient dark lord because I knew how to recycle attributes. "Prepare to face judgment," Elara said, raising her blade. Golden light from her sword grew so intense it began to singe the hairs on my arms from ten feet away. To my left, a shadow flickered near the entrance of the shop. Heavy footsteps shattered the tense silence. "Get away from him!" a gruff voice bellowed. Silas charged into the workshop, his face red and his breathing ragged. He wasn't holding a weapon, but rather a heavy iron wrench from my tool rack. Throwing his entire weight forward, he swung the wrench at Elara's side. Elara gasped, forced to leap backward to avoid the clumsy but heavy blow. "Silas?" I gasped, collapsing to one knee as the pressure finally vanished from my chest. His usual cowardly demeanor was entirely gone. Gone was the greedy, coin-pinching merchant who haggled over copper pieces. Instead, his jaw was set, and his knuckles were white around the rusted iron wrench. "Move, kid!" he barked, grabbing the collar of my tunic with surprising strength. Hauling me backward, he dragged me toward the heavy storage crates in the far corner of the room. With his free hand, he slammed his fist into a hidden knot in the wooden wall. Beneath our feet, a loud clicking sound resonated through the floorboards. Stone scraped against stone as a hidden trapdoor swung open, revealing a dark, downward-sloping staircase. Cold air, smelling of ancient dust and damp earth, rushed up to meet us. "What is this?" I demanded, staring at the passage. "You had a secret basement this whole time?" "It's not a basement," Silas muttered, keeping his eyes on Elara. Reaching into his leather vest, he pulled out a small, velvet pouch. He undid the drawstrings and tipped the contents into his palm. It was a pulsing, brilliant fragment of pure crystal. Pulsing with a deep, violet energy, the fragment felt incredibly heavy even before he pressed it into my hand. My jaw dropped as I recognized the intense, raw power radiating from the object. [Analyzing object...] [Name: Fragment of the First Aether Core.] [Attribute detected: Infinite Resonance EX (Locked).] [Secondary attribute detected: Divine Catalyst EX (Locked).] This was a legendary item, something that shouldn't even exist in a backwater town like this. "Why do you have this?" I asked, looking from the crystal to his eyes. "Because the gods cannot be allowed to destroy everything," he said softly. He didn't look like a greedy merchant anymore. Usually calculating profit and loss, his eyes were now filled with a profound, solemn sadness. "You... you knew who I was?" I whispered, shocked. "I knew what you could become," Silas said, offering a small, sad smile. "And I knew they would come for you eventually." Light spilled into the room behind us as Elara recovered her footing, her sword shining like a miniature sun. "Step aside, mortal!" she commanded, her voice shaking the wooden beams. "You protect a monster!" "Never," Silas whispered, turning his back on me to face her. For a second, I couldn't move. He stood tall, a simple man with an iron wrench, squaring his shoulders against a living legend. Realization hit me like a physical blow. He wasn't protecting his shop, or his gold. All this time, the grumpy old shopkeeper who overcharged me for scrap metal was actually a guardian. "Silas, don't do this," I said, reaching out to grab his shoulder. "We can both run." "There is no running for both of us, Lucien," he said, not turning around. "She is too fast. One of us has to block the door." "But you'll die!" I argued, my heart heavy with a strange, foreign emotion. Loyalty wasn't something I was used to. In my past life, people discarded me the moment I was no longer useful. This world had taught me to assume everyone was just as selfish as I was. Yet here was Silas, standing between me and a divine executioner. "Out of my way!" Elara yelled, lunging forward with blinding speed. Silas didn't flinch. With a grunt of effort, he swung his heavy wrench, meeting her glowing blade head-on. Blue sparks flew from the point of contact, mixing with her golden light. He was channeling some kind of hidden energy, his muscles bulging as he fought to keep her back. "You... you are one of the old keepers," Elara realized, her eyes widening in recognition. "I thought your order was wiped out during the purge." "We are like weeds, little paladin," Silas grunted, sweat pouring down his face. "You can never kill us all." "Silas!" I yelled, trying to pull myself up. "Go, Lucien!" he roared, his voice cracking under the strain of holding back her divine strength. "The world needs what you can do. Don't let them take it!" "I'm not leaving you!" I shouted. "You have no choice!" Silas barked. Turning his head slightly, he gave me one last, desperate look. Our world is a lie, Lucien. The gods are thieves. Use the core. Find the strength to survive." "Please..." I started, but my voice was cut off. Before I could say another word, Silas lunged forward, throwing his body directly into Elara's path. He grabbed her weapon arm, pinning it to his chest and locking her in place. "Foul mortal, let go!" Elara screamed, her holy aura flaring violently, burning his clothes and skin. Silas grimaced in agony, but he didn't let go. His grip remained ironclad. Silas, as he pushes Lucien into the passage, whispers urgently, 'The Prophecy... it’s about you. Find the 'Weaver' in the Crystal Caves!'

Chapter 17: Silas's Secret