Adam settled into his chair at the heavy wooden table, joining his parents for a meal that felt unusually quiet, the silence pressing against the walls like a physical weight. Berto’s place was empty, the man having already departed for the silent, cold halls of the Grand Library; a place where secrets were buried under layers of dust and indifference. Adam looked at the empty seat and hoped that his Master would find something, anything, within those ancient history books or biographies that could offer a shred of guidance. His parents had tried to persuade Berto to stay and share breakfast before his journey, but the old man had declined with a firm politeness that left no room for further insistence. The table was spread with rustic bread, aged cheese, and thin slices of ham. It was a far more common spread than the feast they had enjoyed the day before, yet Adam found that he preferred the simplicity of it.

  "So, what is wrong, Adam?" his mother asked, her voice cutting through the silence as she looked at him with a piercing, serious gaze that seemed to search for the shadows he tried to hide. "You are up and learning so early in the morning, when we usually have to drag you from your bed. Your Uncle’s sudden departure and the way you both seem... odd. It feels as if something is deeply wrong."

  His father turned his attention away from his food, his expression becoming equally grave. "You can tell us, Adam. We might be able to help you in some way, and even if we cannot, we will at least listen."

  Adam looked at his parents and realized they could see the shadows under his eyes, dark bruises left by a night of cosmic terrors. It would have been strange if they had not noticed the change in him, but he struggled with the weight of what he could actually share. He knew with absolute certainty that the truth of the dream and the whispers was something he had to keep hidden, a secret that felt like a cold stone in his stomach.

  "Honestly, it is nothing so dire," he said after a long moment of careful deliberation, his voice steady despite the lingering echoes of the void in his mind. "I simply asked Master some questions about the intricacies of magic that were keeping me awake the whole night, and he could not answer. He went to the library because he refused to fail me in my studies. As for me, I am just surprised. My first impression of him made me believe he knew everything there was to know, but it seems that is not the case."

  It was a veiled truth, a tactical half-lie designed to satisfy their curiosity and grant him some reprieve from their questions.

  "Father, there is something else," Adam added, pivoting the conversation to a safer direction, steering away from the precipice of his own mind. "Master wanted me to ask you about the specifics of the other Kingdoms and their trades. We were discussing them earlier, and he thought you would know more."

  Adam could see a flicker of recognition in his parents’ eyes; they surely noticed the calculated shift in his tone and his attempt to steer the topic away, sensing that he was withholding the deeper truth. Yet, in a quiet act of understanding, they decided to trust him, setting their doubts aside for the sake of their son.

  His father leaned back, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of travel and trade, the weariness of the road etched into the lines of his face. "Hmm, I see. Well then, let us start with the Mercuria Kingdom. It is the living heart of all commerce in this world, a pulsing engine of greed and gold. Every successful merchant has ties to them, and I am no exception. They stand out because of their connectivity; they are linked to every nation through Dwarven-built roads that are constantly patrolled by armed guards. Their land is naturally rich, and whatever they lack, they simply trade for with their main partners, the Dwarves and the Elves."

  Kriss paused to take a bite of bread, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet rhythm of their breakfast.

  "It is a magnificent city for those looking to buy or sell, as it is ever-flowing with new goods," his father continued after a while. "However, that Kingdom has a sickness of its own. The elite merchants and the nobility there look only at profit, their souls weighed against the glitter of coins. They judge a man solely by the weight of his purse or the benefits he can provide. If you lack both, you are viewed as no better than a slave. That brings me to the darkest point; they are the largest providers of slaves in the realm."

  Kriss’s voice dropped an octave, his face darkening with a familiar disgust that seemed to age him. "Fortunately, such practices are illegal in our Kingdom, but many other realms do not share our morals."

  Adam watched his father, feeling the weight of the man’s revulsion. So they are no better than us, he thought. It was exactly as Berto had warned; every kingdom was corrupted to its core, just in different shades of decay.

  "Their biggest business partner in the slave trade is the Daeroth Kingdom," Kriss continued, his voice cold like a winter wind. "They are known for their mercenaries and their information trade, a kingdom built on secrets and blood. They have spies woven into every corner of the world, invisible threads that report every whisper. No matter what the other Kingdoms try, they can never fully purge them. They deal in assassins as well; if one of their blades fails, they ensure no ties can ever be traced back to them. Despicable and utterly dishonorable."

  Assassins, spies, and the buying of souls. With every word, Adam felt the corruption of the world pressing in on him, a heavy, greasy film that coated everything. He wondered what could have happened in the last seven hundred years to turn the world into such a wretched place.

  "Then we have the Solis Kingdom," his father said, his tone shifting to one of sheer disbelief. "They are a collection of fanatics, drunk on their own self-righteousness. Up there, you are either a mage, whom they call a priest blessed by their God Tera, or you are considered unworthy. Death is not something they fear, for they believe they are simply returning to their God, even if they were among the unchosen. They call it the Great Blessing. They burn people alive as a ritual to Tera and will kill babies and grown men alike if their High Priests claim to see a seed of darkness in them. They are a bunch of lunatics."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Adam felt a surge of genuine shock at those words. Burning people? Killing infants? He realized that if he had been born there, his own life would have been snuffed out in seconds, labeled a heresy before he could even speak. The phrase Seed of Darkness sounded like nothing more than a convenient excuse to commit murder at will, a theological mask for senseless cruelty. He wondered if they truly believed their own lies.

  "Lastly, outside of our own land, the Dwarves, and the Elves, there is the Aegis Kingdom," Kriss said, offering a small nod of respect. "They are the best of the lot in my opinion. Their mages are trained in both the sword and magic, and they are known as Paladins. They possess the highest military strength and do everything in the name of strict justice and law. However, it is a double-edged sword. Their laws are unforgiving, a cold blade that cuts without mercy; they would cut a child’s hand off for stealing bread. In their eyes, it is better to starve to death than to break the law. But it works both ways. If a noble were caught buying slaves, they would be executed publicly regardless of their status."

  It sounded like the most honorable of the realms his father had described, yet the extremity of their beliefs felt like a different kind of darkness to Adam, a justice so rigid it had become monstrous.

  "The rest you should know already, right? Because honestly, talking about it all has tired me a bit."

  Adam could see why. Explaining the cruelty and tragedy of the world to his son was a burden that his father had likely hoped to delay for many more years.

  "Yes, Dad. Thank you for explaining it all to me. I will go to my room and meditate until Master returns," Adam said as he finished the last of his breakfast. He noticed how overwhelmed his mother looked, her face pale from the conversation.

  "Do not overtire yourself too much, and please, do not dwell too much on all your dumb father said. You are still only ten."

  Adam offered her a small, reassuring smile. "Do not worry, Mom. I will not."

  He walked upstairs to his room, but he had no intention of meditating. Instead, he sat in the silence and waited for the information Berto would bring back from the dark, the quiet of the room feeling like a predator waiting to strike.

  BERTO’S POV:

  Berto walked out of Adam’s house and set his path straight to the Inner District where the Grand Library was located. It was not a long journey, perhaps up to thirty minutes on foot, but every step felt heavy with anticipation, the air itself seeming to thicken with the weight of the answers he sought. He planned to spend the entire day trying to search for any answer or even a remotely useful clue. If he did not find it there, he would truly be out of options. They did not have enough time before the nobility checked Adam’s potential and discovered what kind of anomaly had been born again.

  Adam would have to start his magic training soon, but that dream vision haunted Berto like a spectral stain. Those whispers were anything but normal, and they could bring disaster to the boy he cared so much about. Better to bet on the unknown than certain death, though the thought did not help Berto much. He knew he would not make it in time to visit the Elven Library, also known as the Omniscientia Library.

  He walked the rest of the path absentmindedly, the houses of the middle district passing by in a blur of stone and timber as he approached the inner gate. His mind only snapped back to reality when he heard a voice.

  "Halt, who goes there?"

  It was a guard stationed between the middle district and the inner one. As Berto walked closer, the guard’s eyes lit up in recognition. "Ah, My Lord, sorry for disturbing you."

  The guard made way for him, and Berto passed the post. If the houses of the middle district looked grand compared to the slums, then these could be called castles on their own, monuments to a status built on blood and taxes. Huge mansions with even bigger gardens stretched on both of his sides. The closer you got to the royal castle, the more pompous they became, as the status of their owners increased. Berto himself could have owned such a house if he wanted, as he was a Viscount thanks to his deeds in the war and his rank of peak Tier 2. Everyone lower than a Viscount lived in the middle district, including Barons and more successful merchants like Kriss.

  The truly richest and strongest lived here, but he did not want to be a part of it, preferring the honest dust of his own home to the gilded lies of the Inner District. He had chosen a small house in the middle district for himself and only came here when summoned or when he wanted to visit the Grand Library. He could already see the huge tower that stood out among all those mansions, a monolith of stone that seemed to reach for the heavens.

  He finally reached the Grand Library, where he was not even stopped by the guards, as they knew him very well. He stepped inside and saw the familiar sight of rows upon rows of books, all delicately categorized, the air smelling of old paper and the quiet decay of forgotten thoughts. He headed straight for the history sections he searched for.

  Hours passed and in the blink of an eye it was late evening, the shadows stretching across the floor like long, grasping fingers. He had looked through many books, including histories and biographies of figures both great and small. His search brought fruit in a book where he least expected it, a tome with a spine that felt like cold leather.

  It described how the firstborn of Jonathan Rosterrian went mad at the peak of Tier 3 while trying to create a new path that would take him higher than Tier 3, straight to godhood. Apparently, he was trying to listen to certain voices during his meditation, and that was how he lost his mind before being executed by his own brother, the king. It was likely left in the records only to show that Juan, the second-born, was the rightful heir.

  Berto did not care for the politics. He had not found much, but it was better than nothing. If Albert could make it to the peak of Tier 3 and only then go mad after actively trying to listen to them, then Adam should be fine as long as he did not try something stupid. It was safe for a bit. They could start meditating again, and they would have to hurry so Adam could reach Tier 1 and hide his potential. They would still have to go to the Elven Library later, but this was enough for now. Berto felt a little weight lifted from his shoulders, though a residue of dread remained.

  "Time to go back and bring the news to Adam," he murmured as he proceeded back to the middle district.