"It was pretty obvious," Astara said. "You both saw Captain Stanley summon me to the lectern."
Daylan and Medora nodded in unison.
"Well," Astara began, her voice steady, "he wants me to become a lieutenant colonel. It's a step closer to becoming a Divine."
She paused, then added, "But I asked for more time to think about it."
Daylan leaned back into his seat, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
"In truth, that's a great thing for us," he said. "You'd be able to get deep into the church… and dig up more information for us."
He tapped his chin. "A perfect inside job."
"But I like that you decided to think it through," Daylan continued. "Honestly, I don't think we're ready for that kind of move just yet. And your strength…"—he paused—"it's not at colonel level. Not yet."
His gaze narrowed slightly. "This raises a real question—why do they want you? They know you're not on their level. So what's the real reason?"
Astara propped her hands on the desk, her gaze steady.
"I thought the same thing," she said quietly.
"That's exactly why I chose to think it through."
Medora folded her arms across her chest, her tone edged with caution.
"The church always has its own agenda. They want the strong on their side—always."
She glanced at Astara. "But you're the princess. Technically speaking… you already belong to the church."
Daylan spoke up, his voice firm.
"Clearly, there's a hidden agenda. And it might not even involve the church—it could be something personal to Captain Stanley."
He glanced between them. "He's strong. And I won't risk any of us getting caught in a situation where we can't win."
His tone grew sharp, precise—almost commanding.
"For now, we focus on the small fries—the people in black. Once we're strong enough, and we've uncovered more about your parents and the church…" he looked at Astara, "then you join them. On our terms. To get the information we need from the inside."
Astara seized the moment, her voice cool but pointed.
"That doesn't sound bad… but what makes you think he'll tell me anything?"
She leaned forward slightly. "Captain Stanley isn't stupid."
Daylan smirked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"If you put it that way, are you trying to say you're stupid?" he teased.
Then his tone softened, steady with quiet resolve.
"Don't worry, Princess. We may be fools—but that doesn't make us stupid." He leaned back slightly. "You're our King. And I won't let you walk into danger unprepared."
Medora spoke up, her tone blunt.
"How long are we supposed to wait? I don't think she can give him a year or something."
"No, no." Daylan shook his head, his voice steady.
"Just give him until the thirteenth month, Augustus month. That gives us four months—enough time to wrap up my business with the Bastian and Jireh families, and deal with the people in black."
Astara rose to her feet, her expression serious.
"So, we have months to close the gap in strength and come up with a better way to face them?"
Daylan stood up, grabbed a book from the shelf, and gave her a confident smile.
"Exactly!"
Without wasting another moment, Astara turned and headed out of the library.
The moment Astara left, Daylan sat down with his book, but Medora turned to him, a serious look on her face.
"What makes you think we can outsmart Captain Stanley? When he was ten, he killed two imps—just ten—and five years ago, alongside the captains from Pride and Order, he helped defeat a higher-ranking demon. He only passed his Fate Trial, just like you. I don't think someone like that has a simple mind."
Daylan turned to her, amused. "Really? Imps are stronger than hellhounds, right?" She gave a firm nod.
"Impressive… but come on, we get stronger every day, and I'm confident in my knowledge too. But we're not going to outsmart him directly. We'll give him what he wants, play our own game, and when the time comes, we'll outsmart him—trust me, we can do it. No doubt about it."
Medora raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
"You sure about that? Playing the game without overestimating the risk might be harder than you think."
Daylan smirked. "That's the fun part. We don't overestimate, we just play it smart. Keep our eyes open, and when the time comes, we'll know exactly what to do."
He flipped open his book again, the confidence in his tone unshaken.
As he immersed himself in the book, Daylan's thoughts wandered. He could barely defeat the hellhounds during the tournament—creatures he once thought formidable. Yet Captain Stanley had slain two imps at the age of ten—demonic monsters far stronger than anything Daylan had ever faced. The gap in strength was undeniable, and he knew he had to close it before it was too late.
Before long, the sun began to set. Medora left the library, heading to her room to get some rest. But Daylan still had countless books to get through, and with the week drawing to a close, he stayed behind—devouring every page he could while time allowed.
Not long after, the monastery fell silent.
Everyone had gone to sleep, and only the soft sound of pages turning echoed through the halls—Daylan, still awake, lost in the world of the book before him.
He sat calmly in Astara's seat, legs propped on the desk, an untouched omelet—courtesy of Medora—resting in front of him, growing colder by the minute. As he shifted to get more comfortable, he nearly knocked the plate over. Only then did he remember the meal. Not wanting Medora's effort to go to waste, he picked up his fork and began eating, eyes still fixed on the book in his hands.
With renewed strength from the meal, he powered through more than ten books, his eyes growing heavier with each page. Just as sleep began to claim him, the Spiral System's voice echoed in his mind.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Task Available.
Objective:[300 push-up. 300 set-ups. 1 hour shadowboxing.]
Duration: [2 hours.]
Warning: Refusal to complete the task by the given time will result in an equivalent penalty.
Would it hurt for me to have a little sleep? Why must you act like my previous boss?… he thought, nearly crying from frustration.
"F**k your damn tasks." he muttered under his breath.
Without a moment to waste, he rose to his feet, rubbing the drowsiness of his eyes as he walked to the training center.
With sluggish steps, he finally arrived at the training center. The moment he stepped in, the sound of clashing weapons and sharp exhalations filled the air. Medora was mid-swing, her blade cutting through the air with precision and speed. Astara, on the other side, was practicing her footwork and strikes, her eyes focused and unrelenting.
Daylan paused for a moment, watching them and smirked.
No excuses, then.
The heat trapped within the walls was proof enough—they had been training for hours.
Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped inside and began his training.
He had no doubt he'd finish on time. He was accustomed to the training, both mentally and physically—thanks to Spiral Edge, each repetition made the physical strain feel lighter.
As he continued pushing himself against the ground, Medora paused her training and turned to him.
''I'll be getting more details from the guards once I'm done here. Is there anything you want me to tell your mother and Zira?''
"Yeah… ask them to come see me tomorrow. I've already gotten approval from Lieutenant Bruce." He muttered.
"By the way, Captain Stanley said he'll be coming by regularly to check on my progress—and maybe even spar with me if he's up for it." Astara muttered.
"Why so?"
"I wonder about that myself. Maybe it's to make sure I grow stronger? Who knows?"
Without a word, Daylan smirked.
Not long after, Medora and Astara finished their training and left the hall. Daylan kept pushing himself, little by little, until at last, he completed his task and collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Congratulations, you have successfully completed
Your [Spiral Edge] has increased by [2%].
Your [Spiral Time] has increased by [1 second. Max per day 0].
Your [Spiral Mind] has decreased in [Focus].
Your [Spiral Form] has increased by [0].
Your [Dark Spiral] has increased by [ 0% per use. 5 seconds. Max per day 1].
Daylan lay motionless, his body succumbing to the pain. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, he had drifted into sleep.
Though he was fast asleep, snoring at the top of his lungs, a part of him still held onto the thought that he needed to wake up early and get back to reading. He had to make up for the books he missed during his two hours of training.