The elder’s tone softened enough that even the densest person alive would have noticed.

He turned to Rangar. "You can leave them to me and continue your work."

"Thank you!" Rangar saluted with a broad grin.

His work meant spending time with players, learning more about their world, and guiding them toward the proper path. It was the best assignment he could have asked for, and he was eager to get back to it. Even if it meant leaving NukEncore’s development to the elder, he knew he would hear about her boons soon enough.

"I’m going!" he called to Martin and the others.

Once the newbie helper disappeared in a cloud of dust, the elder looked to Martin and Chaosgraphy. "Are you going to keep supporting her?"

Martin chuckled. "If we can."

Chaos waved a hand. "I didn’t do anything."

NukEncore was the most surprised of all. She checked her system messages and saw that Martin had used his buff to help her, even after she told him not to get involved. Yet none of her anger returned. If anything, it felt a little sweet that he had helped her without stepping onto her stage too openly.

Her stage was hers, and he had still found a way to stand behind her.

That was not the kind of thing NukEncore could expect in real life.

But now she found herself wondering whether Martin really could be a shadow in her life without anyone getting in the way. A diva having a boyfriend would definitely cause a scandal. Even so, she could not stop thinking about it.

In the end, NukEncore beamed at Martin. "Thanks."

He smiled back.

Meanwhile, the elder pulled his wooden sword free from the grass.

The blade came loose with a soft scrape, and the garden answered at once. Torn roots slid back into the earth like pale threads being drawn through green cloth. Clumps of soil settled into place.

Bent grass slowly rose, blade by blade, until the flattened ground looked untouched. Even the trees around them seemed to exhale as their trembling branches stilled and their leaves stopped rustling. The whole scene carried the eerie feeling of time folding in on itself and stitching the damage shut.

By the time the elder lowered his sword, the garden looked so complete that no one would have guessed a battle had taken place there at all.

"You may enter my house," the elder said, already walking toward his home.

The wooden training dummy followed behind him like a loyal butler.

Martin half expected its name to be Sebastian.

The first floor of the house was lined with old wooden tablets.

They rose along the walls in uneven rows, some no larger than a hand and others tall enough to dominate an entire section of the room. Age had darkened the wood into shades of deep brown and black, yet every carved line remained sharp, as though the beasts etched into them still refused to fade. There were birds with wings spread so wide they seemed ready to set the room ablaze, serpents coiled around storms, and dragons whose claws looked capable of tearing through the sky itself.

What unsettled Martin most was not the craftsmanship, but the presence clinging to each carving. The air around them felt heavy, crowded by silent gazes and sleeping instincts. It was like standing in a hall full of beasts that had agreed to remain still for now.

It felt as though they were watching Martin’s party.

"The elder really could protect the academy by himself," Martin said aloud.

"He was exaggerating," the elder replied.

He then led the party downstairs to his basement workshop.

The air changed before they even reached the bottom. It grew cooler, denser, and faintly scented with resin, ash, oil, and something metallic that Martin could not name. The workshop itself was far larger than the house above suggested, its walls reinforced with pale wood and fitted with shelves full of carved fragments, crystals, tools, and half-finished pieces that looked too specialized for ordinary crafting.

At the center of it all stood the device that drew every eye.

It was a towering glass chamber, clear enough to reveal the etched formation beneath it, yet thick enough to feel more like a sealed vessel than ordinary glass. Rings of writing curved across the floor in layered circles, each line so precise that it looked less engraved than placed there by absolute command.

Faint light moved through the markings in slow pulses, like breath traveling through veins. Even at rest, the whole thing gave off the sense that it was waiting for something to be fed to it.

"You have shown me that your mindset is on the right path. Now prove that you have the potential to become an Imprinter. Put your staff inside the chamber and splash your mana onto the glass." The elder clasped his hands behind his back and watched NukEncore like a strict teacher.

He reminded Martin of Samu.

NukEncore walked up to the chamber and lifted her chin. "How do I open it, old man?"

"It is Master Raven. Anything and anyone can pass through this glass while it remains dormant," Elder Raven said, pride clear in his voice.

It was his own creation, the Skill Anchor, even if it still looked like a tube.

"I see." NukEncore reached out and felt no resistance. She guided her staff through the glass, but the instant it fully entered the chamber, something tugged at it. NukEncore reacted on instinct and pulled her hand back, her eyes widening as the staff began floating on its own inside.

"The Skill Anchor has activated by itself," Elder Raven said. "Now splash mana onto the glass and connect to the device. Your player system will guide you, but if you still need babysitting, I will help."

He smirked.

NukEncore answered with one just as sharp.

A set of system windows appeared before her.

[Skill Anchor has synchronized with your mana.]

[Target Item Detected: Cindervein Staff (Orange)]

[Bound Skill Detected: Bloomcast]