Constella

Tristan's heart pounded the moment his gaze locked with Amelia's. His palms grew clammy, and his throat tightened, rendering him speechless. Even after that brief glance, he found himself unable to meet her eyes again.

Damn this teenage body. He cursed inwardly.

Without another word, he quickly turned away and strode toward the table he had spotted earlier. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and flipped open the book. The first page recounted the tale of the First Constellations—the revered founders of Constella, who had been bestowed with their celestial title.

"Is this the name of the highest-ranking hierarchy in Constella?" he mused aloud.

A soft, emotionless voice answered from behind him.

"Yes. That is the name of the royal family."

Startled, Tristan jolted upright, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He spun around to find the silver-haired girl standing behind him, her head tilted slightly in curiosity.

Attempting to regain his composure, Tristan gestured for her to sit. She obliged, taking the seat beside him with an air of quiet confidence.

"What else do you know?" he asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"The Constella family rules from the highest point in the country," she replied simply.

The highest point?

The phrase conjured an image in Tristan's mind—perhaps a castle perched atop a towering mountain, far above the commoners they governed. But something about her wording unsettled him.

"By 'highest point'... do you mean—?"

"Yes. They live in the sky."

His breath hitched. A floating castle? The very thought defied reason.

"How does it stay up there?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

"Through a force known as the Star Implant," she explained. "Every human possesses an innate celestial energy—a star embedded within them. However, the number of stars varies from person to person. To increase one's stars, one must refine, train, and grow with them."

The words sent a ripple through Tristan's consciousness. Star Implant. The phrase rang faintly familiar. Though he, the man inhabiting Tristan Merigold's body, had never encountered it before, the original owner of this body had.

"By performing a Star Link with a weapon, one can unlock unique abilities. The weapon, in turn, evolves alongside its wielder."

It was fascinating—an entirely new system of power, one with boundless potential. But amidst his intrigue, a question nagged at him.

How does this girl know so much?

Before he could voice the thought, she raised a hand, stopping him. Interlocking her fingers beneath her chin, she fixed him with an unreadable stare.

"It's my turn to ask questions," she stated.

Something in her tone sent a shiver down his spine.

"How is it that you know none of this?" she inquired, her piercing blue eyes searching his face.

Tristan schooled his expression and answered, "I never attended school, but my mother taught me how to read and write."

As he spoke, another realization struck him. How was he able to read this world's language so effortlessly? Was it an effect of inheriting Tristan Merigold's memories?

She regarded him for a moment before shifting the conversation.

"That suit—you got it from Kenway. Are you an aristocrat?"

"No," Tristan replied. "I live with him. But how do you know about Kenway?"

She let out a quiet sigh, as if the answer was obvious.

"There isn't a soul in this country who doesn't know of Mr. Kenway. His craftsmanship is unparalleled. However, his competitors are desperate to drive him out of the Middle District… because of his background."

"His background?" Tristan pressed.

She hesitated briefly, then spoke.

"I could help him," she said matter-of-factly. "My family has the means to."

A flicker of hope crossed Tristan's face, but it was quickly replaced by skepticism. Nothing in this world comes without a price. Money wasn't something to be spent so carelessly, especially on a stranger.

His gaze darkened. "What do you want in return?"

Instead of answering immediately, she reached for the book he had been reading and flipped through its pages. Eventually, she stopped on a particular passage and slid the book toward him.

Tristan's eyes scanned the text, absorbing the details of the Five Pillars—five factions, each represented by a celestial constellation, second only to the royal family in power. Their leaders bore the revered titles: Aquarius, Aries, Hercules, Centaurus, and Orion.

Among them, one name stood out—Orion.

It was said to house the greatest warriors in the land and the most formidable of all the Pillar leaders.

They're named after constellations from my world... How did that happen?

Despite his intrigue, Tristan was still unsure why she had shown him this. Once again, before he could ask, she answered.

"I want to become one of them—a Pillar. But not just any member. I want to claim the title of a leader."

Tristan blinked, momentarily stunned by the bold declaration. Then, without thinking, he let out a small, amused chuckle.

For the first time, her expression changed. A scowl.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Aren't these people supposed to be the strongest in the land? How does someone as small as you expect to stand among them?"

Without warning, she punched him in the arm—hard. Pain shot through his muscles, and Tristan winced.

"Ouch!" he hissed, rubbing the sore spot.

Her expression was dead serious.

"Everyone who rises to power does so with help," she said. "That's why I need you. I need a partner."

Tristan stared at her, baffled. Of all the people in the world, why him?

"How am I supposed to help you? I don't even know how to use a Star Implant."

"You don't have to," she said. "I'll teach you."

Tristan had always been drawn to power—the thrill of surpassing the strongest, of standing at the pinnacle—but this? This felt almost impossible. How was he supposed to challenge a leader, let alone rise to their level?

Then, a memory surfaced—the warmth of a meal generously given, the fine clothes laid out for him, the unwavering kindness of Mr. Kenway. A man who had offered him shelter when he had nothing.

And in that moment, Tristan realized—no matter how impossible it seemed, if there was even a sliver of a chance, he would take it. If it meant repaying the one who had provided for him, he would do it.

"You promise you'll help Mr. Kenway?"

She nodded without hesitation.

"Fine," he said, exhaling slowly. "Then I'll help."