Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Chapter 48: The Heir Of White Chapter 48: The Heir of White While Elira Varnis calmly tested the boy before her, her mind split in multiple directions—half debating, half observing, but fully invested in the outcome.

But for Noah, this was no test.

It was a nightmare.

His very existence felt like it was being unraveled, crushed by an invisible force that gnawed at more than flesh. It clawed at his soul. At the essence of what made him real. Alive.

This is what it means to face someone who exists on a higher plane, he realized. This isn’t strength. This is presence. Recognition by the universe itself.

And against that?

You don’t fight. You endure.

This is too much, he thought, gritting his teeth. Every part of him—body, soul, mind—screamed in agony. It was as if his soul was being pulled apart, strand by strand, and there was nothing he could do but hold on.

He didn’t scream. Didn’t groan. Just clenched his jaw and endured.

His Aura of Limitlessness flared, wrapping around him in a wild dance of resistance.

But it wasn’t enough.

So he released everything.

All his auras.

Instantly, the air shifted.

Lightning crackled across his shoulders.

Frost coiled at his feet like silver mist.

A presence of absolute sovereignty emerged—like a monarch entering his throne room.

His form blurred, fragmenting into echoes, as if reality struggled to contain him, to give him a proper shape.

Then came the Aura of Samsara—a whisper of life and death, a black-and-white river of eternal return that healed, soothed, and refused to break.

With all five auras in play, the tide began to turn.

Noah breathed.

Barely—but it was enough.

He stood up, back straight, silver eyes glowing. His expression unreadable, his presence impossible to ignore.

He didn’t look human anymore.

He looked like something becoming.

Elira’s white eyes widened.

"...Glorious!," she murmured.

She had expected talent. But this?

Not four auras. Five.

And one of them was a rare conceptual aura—life and death.

’Where did this boy come from?’she thought.

How can one so young wield so many rare affinities?

Her curiosity twisted into hunger.

She wanted him.

And she was satisfied.

"It’s enough," she said softly.

The crushing pressure vanished in an instant.

Noah collapsed—not from pain, but from the sudden lack of resistance. He hit the ground hard, but forced himself up again just as fast. Shoulders squared. Jaw set.

Expression: unchanged.

Elira’s smile curved.

Is he angry? How amusing.

She didn’t address it.

"You still want my support?" she asked.

Noah’s thoughts were still a little hazy, but one emotion burned clear: annoyance.

’I swear, if I ever get strong enough, I’ll return the favor and drop a goddamn realm on her head...’

But he swallowed the thought quickly. If she could crush him with pressure, she could probably hear his curses mid-thought.

"Yes," he said evenly.

Elira smirked—a flawless, regal expression.

"Then become my disciple. My heir."

Noah blinked, momentarily thrown off.

He frowned. "I’m already the Heir of the Weaverheart. That’s my mother’s legacy. I’m not abandoning it."

Elira waved a pale hand lazily. "I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you to add mine alongside it. I don’t need you to rule over land or people. I only ask that you inherit my legacy. My knowledge. My techniques."

Noah stared at her for a beat.

"...Are you dying or something?" he blurted out.

Silence.

Elira looked at him blankly.

Noah coughed. "I—uh—sorry."

She shook her head faintly. "No need to apologize. And no, I’m far from death. This isn’t about mortality. It’s about continuity. Someone must carry the flame."

She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with intensity.

"If you accept, I’ll give you my full support. You’ll be untouchable in this academy—as long as you know what you are doing. Do whatever you like. No one will stop you, even if they know you’re the cause."

"I’ll provide information, resources, protection."

"All I ask is that you grow stronger, master what I teach you, and—" she paused, "—retrieve something for me."

Noah’s expression hardened. "What kind of something?"

"There is a realm," Elira said. "It will appear near the Elf Continent at the end of this semester. It only allows A-rank beings and below."

"I want you to go there. Enter it. And bring back what I seek."

Noah was silent.

Of course there’s a catch.

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Extremely," she said without flinching.

"Will I go alone?"

"No. The top ten students of the first semester will enter. It’s a chance for young talents to forge themselves—and fight for their fortunes."

free푤ebnovel.com So Elijah will be there too, Noah thought, eyes narrowing.

Still, it was a simple decision.

A powerful backer. Unlimited support. And training from a being this absurdly strong?

He straightened.

"I accept."

He bowed slightly, respectfully.

"I greet you, Master."

Elira smiled.

"Elira Varnis," she said. "That is my name. Remember it."

...

A moment later, Noah reappeared outside the door, fully healed, body restored—courtesy of his new Master.

Sophie and Elijah were waiting.

Without a word, Elijah stepped forward and entered the realm next.

Sophie turned to Noah, curious. "Did you get something useful in there?"

Noah smiled, stepping forward.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close—careful, but intentional. He was starting to enjoy holding her a little too much.

Sophie didn’t resist. She just returned the embrace—growing more used to it with each passing day.

"I got more than I expected," he whispered. "Something useful... and something life-changing, dear wife."

She hummed, not pushing further.

Then, after a pause: "What would you suggest I ask for?"

Noah smiled lightly. He loved that she trusted him. Loved that she leaned on him more and more.

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"Ask for skills," he said. "Lightning-based. Both physical enhancement types and mana-manipulation ones."

"You created your red lightning through your talent. With more foundation, you’ll evolve it further. It’s time to use your talent properly."

He looked into her eyes, voice softer.

"If you struggle, tell me. I’ll help you. Always."

Sophie nodded, a faint blush rising—but she didn’t look away.

Then silence fell between them.

A warm, comfortable silence.

From a distance, Damon watched with a sigh and muttered to himself.

"Goddamn lovebirds... Can’t you flirt somewhere else?"

—End of Chapter 48—