Chapter 9: Flaws
"Haa… don't feel too bad about it," Shirley said with a sigh, waving her hand dismissively. "If you'd sold that necklace in the Royal Capital, it might've fetched 50, maybe even 70 gold coins. But here? In this town? We can't go against Goren or any of the big shops."
She paused, her voice growing quieter.
"But this is only a temporary fix. I'm not even sure that potion helped his soul recover. It seems… we have no choice but to get the Wizard's Miracle Life Potion."
The moment she uttered the name, Athena's face darkened.
She wasn't unfamiliar with that potion.
After leaving the Royal Capital, Shirley had tapped into a secretive black-market network, chasing any hint that might heal Raven's fractured soul. It had taken five long years. Only recently had she come across whispers—rumors of a mysterious potion appearing occasionally at the Royal City Auction House. They said it could perform miracles.
One story claimed that Margrave Ashton used it to prolong his mother's life.
Other tales were even more fantastical: people brought back from death's doorstep, cleansed of incurable curses, or healed from soul-wasting afflictions.
But there was one enormous problem.
The cost.
The last bottle had sold for 950 gold coins. The one before that had surpassed a thousand.
"I barely managed to save up 50 gold," Shirley admitted, her voice slow and low. "If we could just get some help from him, maybe things would go smoother."
"No," Athena replied firmly, shaking her head. "Even if I beg him, I know he won't lift a finger for my little brother."
She glanced toward the window, lost in thought, before asking quietly, "What about hunting monsters? Like the Roaming Walkers do—sell magic stones for money?"
Shirley's lips tightened. "Goblins only carry low-tier magic stones, and even then, you're lucky to get one worth a few silvers. Hobgoblins drop intermediate stones, sure—but they fight in packs. You'd need to be an Elite Walker just to handle a few of them."
"How much does an intermediate stone sell for?" Athena persisted.
"Depends on the size. Most go for 1 to 2 gold coins," Shirley said grimly. "But the risk far outweighs the reward."
"Then what about high-tier stones?" Athena still hadn't given up.
"You'd need to hunt Orcs, Ogres, Trolls—even Cyclopes. They guard settlements, live in groups, and are dangerous beyond belief. Even an Elite Walker would struggle. You'd need a full squad—at least a dozen Elites and one Radiant-ranked Walker—to challenge an Orc settlement."
Her words made Athena fall silent.
"Athena," Shirley continued gently, "yes, a single high-tier stone could sell for 20 to 30 gold coins… but do you think it's worth your life? One mistake, and it's over. Leave this to me. I'll find a way to get that potion. You should focus on your sword training."
Just then, Athena noticed Raven emerging from the washroom. She glanced at him, then turned back to Shirley, worry filling her voice.
"He looks energetic now… but is he really okay? Isn't there any other way?"
Shirley's eyes softened. "I feel the same, Athena. I'm just as helpless. But sometimes… I worry more about your mother."
Athena flinched.
"Imagine losing both your children—and your elder sister—on the same day. Then spending five years with no word, no trace… Sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing."
She closed her eyes for a moment, her expression tightening.
"But every time I look at that cute brat's face, all those doubts vanish."
Athena stood, her expression calm but resolved. "Let's go, Aunt. We should at least do what we can."
"Indeed," Shirley nodded, regaining her usual energy. "Oh, I might come home late tonight. You two eat dinner and head to bed early."
"Work?" Athena's eyes narrowed. "Is it another dangerous mission?"
"It's just a routine scout patrol near the outer edge of the Mirage Woodlands. The worst I'll run into are goblins or kobolds. Even you could take two of them on now," she said with a smile. "So don't worry about me."
Shirley tilted her head. "Still stuck at the bottleneck?"
Athena nodded, a trace of frustration in her voice. "I think you're right, Aunt Shirley. That 'Imperial Knight Technique' the Royal instructor gave me... it feels basic. I've been stuck in the same realm for too long. And this sword technique—it's lacking. I'm nowhere near forming an invisible force around the blade."
Shirley chuckled lightly, but her eyes were serious. "That force is called Aura, child. It takes decades of training to produce even a glimpse of it. Only Elite Knights and those above them can wield it. Without a complete core technique tailored to your affinity, you could practice a hundred years and get nowhere."
Athena hesitated, then asked quietly, "Just how strong is my father, Aunt Shirley?"
Shirley's expression turned reverent.
"He's one of the three Legendary Powerhouses of the Empire. I saw him once cut through an iron pillar with a single swing. His sword's aura wasn't invisible—it shimmered in purple, and it looked... devastating. Cold-hearted he may be, but your father is unmatched. He could stop an entire army by himself."
"But he has a horrible personality," Athena muttered.
"Don't say that again," Shirley warned sharply. "We're not even strong enough to speak to a gatekeeper at the palace. The truth is… our future looks bleak. Unless a miracle happens, this situation won't change."
She reached out and touched Athena's shoulder. "I'll try to find a better Knight Technique for you—something that matches your affinity. Give me a year or two. Until then, train hard. Even without an Imperial Technique, you can reach Elite Rank in ten or twenty years if you persist."
Just then, a young voice rang out from the kitchen.
"I'm hungry! What's for breakfast, sis?"
A clang followed.
Athena jumped to her feet, alarmed. "Coming! Stop messing around in there!"
She rushed from the room. Shirley chuckled, shaking her head, and began preparing to leave for work.
The small family gathered for breakfast shortly after. Around 9:30 AM, they locked up and left their modest home.
As usual, Athena walked Raven to the elementary school, then headed to her part-time work. Shirley took another road, heading toward the administrative district.
As Raven walked across the stone-paved courtyard, he heard the sound of running footsteps.
"Raven! Did you finish today's homework? I did, but… I left it at home," a cheerful voice called.
Raven turned to see Robert—his round-faced classmate—grinning sheepishly.
"Don't lie first thing in the morning," Raven replied with a laugh. "You didn't even take your Logistic Calculation or Grammar books home. Did you check your bag at all?"
Robert scratched his head, embarrassed. "Ehehe… but Teacher Elizabeth's class is after lunch! If you lend me your notebook, I'll copy it quickly."
His grin widened, a sly sparkle in his eye.
Raven stared at him for a second… then shook his head.
"Unfortunately… I didn't do it either."
Robert gasped, eyes wide. "What?! Did you hit your head or get a fever? You never skip homework! If you lose that perfect record, Mary Whitbard will take your place as class leader! This is a disaster!"
He slapped his forehead dramatically. "And we've got Play Class first thing too…"
Raven groaned. "Don't remind me. Teacher Maxwell won't let us do other subjects in his class. Just endless puzzles and games…"
The two boys walked through the school's long corridor, their conversation fading into the sounds of morning bells and chattering students.