Chapter 15 – A New Land, A New Path

The road stretched endlessly before us, the dust rising in thin clouds with every step. The towering trees lining the sides had thinned over time, gradually revealing rolling fields and distant settlements. The journey had been long, but now, at last, we had reached the borders of our destination—the Kingdom of Varelia.

Compared to Eldoria, where I had spent my entire life, Varelia felt… different. It lacked the suffocating grandeur of my former home, the oppressive weight of a noble name dictating every breath. Here, life moved differently. Merchants peddled their wares with loud, boisterous voices; soldiers in mismatched armor stood at watchtowers, their discipline nothing compared to the elite knights I once knew. Yet despite its lack of refinement, there was something raw and alive about this place.

As we walked past the first checkpoint, the leader of our group—Graden—pulled his hood back slightly, allowing the guards a better look at his face. The men at the border didn't scrutinize us much, just a cursory glance before waving us through. I wondered how much of that was due to Graden's presence. He commanded respect, even without speaking.

After all, he was a man who measured people, weighed their worth.

And he had measured me.

The conversation from the previous night still echoed in my mind.

"Why do you want to become strong?"

It had been a simple question, one I had expected. But my answer had not been rehearsed—it had come from deep within.

"I don't want someone else deciding my fate."

Graden had chuckled at that, not in mockery, but as if he had heard those words before. Then, without hesitation, he had handed me a piece of parchment.

"If you're serious, go here. This academy will teach you what you need. Whether you survive, however, is another matter."

And now, as I stood at the gates of a new country, that parchment felt heavier than anything I had ever carried.

The Varelian Kingdom—A Land of Struggles and Growth

The first major city we arrived in was Luthadel, one of Varelia's trade hubs. Unlike Eldoria's capital, which gleamed with white marble and golden spires, Luthadel was built of stone and timber, its buildings sturdy rather than ornate. The streets were lively, bustling with people of all kinds—merchants, mercenaries, commoners, and nobles alike.

I saw no banners displaying grand emblems, no statues of past kings. This was a nation still finding its strength, built by the hands of its people rather than the legacy of ancient rulers.

Varelia was not the strongest kingdom on the Sun-Moon Continent. In terms of military might and resources, it paled in comparison to Eldoria or even the distant empire of Zephiron. But what it lacked in power, it made up for in ambition. It was a land where people could rise through their own merit.

Perhaps that was why Graden had suggested this place.

The Parting of Paths

As we made our way through the crowded market district, the group that had traveled together for weeks began to split apart. Each had their own destination. Some sought work, others had family to reunite with.

I stood beside Graden, watching as the last of our companions drifted away. Only a few of us remained now.

"This is where we part ways," Graden finally said, turning to me. "You have the address, don't you?"

I nodded, gripping the parchment in my pocket.

He studied me for a moment, his sharp gaze piercing. "You're not the same as when we first met," he remarked. "Good. But strength isn't just about willpower. It's about knowing when to endure and when to strike."

I didn't respond. I simply committed his words to memory.

With a nod, he turned, disappearing into the sea of people.

I watched him go before taking a deep breath.

There was no turning back now.

The Academy of Elarian—A Place for the Strong

I pulled out the parchment, unfolding it carefully. The ink was bold, the letters written in a firm, elegant hand.

> Elarian Academy – Western District, Rivenhold

My new destination.

Elarian Academy… the name was unfamiliar, but if Graden had recommended it, then it meant this place wasn't ordinary.

I folded the parchment and set off, weaving through the city's chaotic streets.

A World of Mana

As I walked, I noticed something.

Here in Varelia, mana wasn't just an abstract concept. It was visible.

I had seen hints of it before—knights in Eldoria who carried weapons that gleamed unnaturally, spells cast by court mages. But here, in this foreign land, mana was more than a tool of the elite.

I saw it in the way some merchants infused their wares with energy, how a street performer flicked a flame between his fingers without effort. Even commoners seemed to possess a faint awareness of it, as if it were something they could touch if only they reached out far enough.

For the first time, I truly understood what I lacked.

Power wasn't just about a sword or a title.

It was about control—over one's own body, one's own spirit.

And I had none of it.

Memories of Pain—A Reminder

As I neared the western district, a sudden wave of memory struck me.

Alric.

His hand raised, a simple gesture—and then the crushing weight that had driven me to my knees.

The sensation of my ribs nearly cracking, the helplessness, the humiliation.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

That was the last time someone would ever hold me down.

I would make sure of it.

Taking a steady breath, I adjusted my posture. My old clothes had been discarded, my name changed. The Tanver Raye that had once belonged to Eldoria no longer existed.

I was someone else now.

And whoever I became from here on…

That would be my choice alone.

With renewed determination, I stepped forward, heading toward my future.