Night talk

As the cold night breeze swept through the campsite, Lester sat cross-legged on a large rock a short distance away, his sharp eyes gazing at the star-lit sky.

His mind was troubled, tangled in the web of choices before him.

Alistair was, without a doubt, a protagonist-like figure—a commoner with extraordinary talent, reaching Peak Mortal Transformation Realm at a young age despite lacking noble backing.

His rise was unnatural, almost scripted by fate itself.

In any other scenario, Lester would have continued stealing Alistair's opportunities, using the system to outmaneuver destiny and ensure that all power flowed towards himself.

But...

Alistair wasn't evil.

At least, not yet.

He had done nothing villainous, nor had he schemed against others to rise in power.

If anything, he had simply worked harder than anyone else, forging his strength through sheer will.

And despite his hostility towards Lester, he hadn't acted maliciously.

Lester exhaled deeply.

He wasn't afraid of Alistair. The Demon God Simulator gave him an advantage far beyond what a normal protagonist could match.

If he wanted to, he could crush Alistair's fate completely, leaving him powerless.

But would it be right?

After a long period of reflection, Lester made his decision.

He would not take Alistair's opportunities unless Alistair himself turned into an enemy.

For now, they were both allies of Alia, and Lester would treat him as such.

With that decision in mind, Lester rose from his seat, his black cloak billowing in the wind, and silently made his way towards Alistair's tent.

Alistair had been resting inside his tent, though sleep had not yet claimed him. His battle earlier had left him restless, and Lester's presence loomed over his mind.

He had never met someone like him—someone who made his instincts scream yet seemed to remain indifferent to him.

When he suddenly heard Lester's voice calling his name, Alistair tensed.

"…Come outside," Lester said. His voice was calm, neutral.

Frowning, Alistair hesitated for a moment, then pushed aside the tent flap and stepped into the moonlit clearing.

His senses sharpened immediately, wary of any tricks.

Lester had already turned around and was walking deeper into the forest.

'What is he up to?'

Suspicion flickered in Alistair's eyes, but he silently followed, his hands subtly clenched.

Both of Alia's attendants moved from the shadows, watching the interaction carefully.

Alistair knew they were there—he had noticed them before—but he doubted Lester would try something under their watchful eyes.

'He must know I've seen them too… then what is he trying to do?'

Just as Alistair's thoughts raced, Lester finally stopped beneath an ancient tree, its gnarled roots coiling along the forest floor like sleeping serpents.

Then, without any ceremony, Lester turned around and tossed something towards him.

Alistair's hands instinctively shot up, catching it.

His eyes widened.

It was the Nameless Fighting Book.

"The princess gave it to me today," Lester said calmly, watching Alistair's stunned expression. "But it should be yours."

Alistair felt his heartbeat quicken.

A moment ago, something had been bothering him deeply, as though he had lost something incredibly important but couldn't understand what.

It was a nagging, hollow feeling—an unexplainable anxiety.

But now… holding this book… that feeling disappeared.

Everything was back on track.

As if something had been corrected.

"It's not easy for someone like you,"

Lester said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the tree.

"Reaching the heights you have without noble backing. I don't know what kind of trials you've faced, but I can guess that you've endured hardship beyond what most people can imagine."

Alistair's grip tightened on the book.

It was true.

His entire life had been a struggle against fate itself.

Every battle, every injury, every day without proper food, and every night spent training under the stars—it was all a fight to grow stronger, to break the limits imposed on him by birth.

"I won't take from you what you deserve,"

Lester continued.

"You earned this. And we're allies now, under the princess."

He turned to leave, his cloak sweeping behind him.

"Use it well," Lester added before disappearing into the darkness.

Alistair remained frozen in place, staring at the book in his hands.

His instincts were rarely wrong.

He trusted them more than anything—they had guided him to survive all these years.

And just a few hours ago, his instincts had screamed at him—telling him he had lost something.

Now, that feeling was gone.

It was as if fate itself had been momentarily derailed… only to be corrected at the last moment.

But how?

Why would Lester give something so precious away?

Did he already have another fighting technique?

Was he hiding a far greater power than anyone realized?

Alistair's mind swirled with questions, but at the same time, a strange sense of respect formed.

Lester could have kept the book.

But he didn't.

For now, Alistair would set aside his hostility.

He didn't fully trust Lester yet, but… he didn't dislike him either.

With those thoughts, he returned to his tent, determined to study the fighting technique before morning.

Inside Alia's tent, the two attendants knelt before her, relaying the details of the midnight meeting.

Alia's golden eyes narrowed slightly, deep in thought.

"Lester gave the book back?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

She exchanged glances with the attendants, all of them coming to the same unspoken conclusion.

"Why?" she murmured.

It wasn't normal for a person to return something of great value without expecting something in return.

It was even stranger because… Lester had not trained in the technique at all.

At least, they hadn't seen him practice.

Could he have already mastered it in a single day?

That was impossible.

…Wasn't it?

Unless…

Alia's eyes darkened.

'Lester's background… just how extraordinary is it?'

She had assumed he came from another empire, a noble family so powerful that his presence was hidden from public records.

But now… she wasn't sure.

What kind of man gives away a rare opportunity without hesitation?

Someone who already has something far greater.

Alia smirked slightly, leaning back against her pillow.

"Well… I guess we'll find out soon enough."