Chương 53: Chapter 51. Just Pure, Unbothered Evil

"LAND HO! ARKHOS IN SIGHT!" The shout jolted Adom from his half-doze, nearly sending him tumbling from his perch on the ship's bow. Three days at sea had taught him every comfortable spot on Captain Voss's vessel, and this particular nook, where the wooden railings curved just right, had become his favorite morning haunt. The isles emerged from the morning mist, and even Adom had to admit - the city had changed dramatically in eight months.

New bridges spanned between islands, their enchanted steel gleaming in the sunlight. Security checkpoints dotted these connections - a necessity since Arkhos had become the center of imperial attention. The central island bustled with activity. Construction crews worked on new facilities and fortifications - preparations for the most significant trial in recent history. The capture of the crown prince here had drawn eyes from every corner of the empire.

Now Arkhos was transforming from a prestigious academy city into something more. Above it all, Xerkes stood proud, its floating towers still commanding respect. New administrative buildings had sprung up around it, handling the increased flow of officials, diplomats, and curious nobles drawn by the upcoming proceedings. The skies were as busy as the streets below. Mages zipped between towers on enchanted brooms, while others simply flew through their own power, robes snapping in the wind.

Eight months ago, you might spot one or two aerial patrols. Now? The air traffic rivaled the imperial capital's, if on a smaller scale. A splash drew Adom's attention. Then another. Then a dozen more.

"Merfolk!" someone gasped, and suddenly the rails were crowded. Adom recognized them instantly - Cantantes Sirens, the only merfolk subspecies that didn't consider drowning men a hobby. Out of the twenty known varieties, these were the only ones who actually enjoyed other species' company. The others? They'd flash the same beautiful smile while dragging you under. Not for food, not for territory, not even for mating - they had their own males for that, less murderous ones at that.

No, they simply liked watching the bubbles stop. Just evil. Pure, unbothered evil. Had to respect that. The Singing Sisters glided alongside the ship. Their upper bodies might look human at first glance, but the illusion broke quickly - their skin had a silvery sheen, patches of scales scattered like freckles across their shoulders and faces. Their eyes were larger, darker, with a second clear lid that blinked sideways. Their fingers were longer, webbed, with hints of claws.

Below the waist, skin transitioned to scales, ending in powerful tails that cut through water like knives. A turquoise-haired one caught the teenage boy's eye and sang a particularly sweet note, blinking slowly. The boy froze, mesmerized. Their laughter was disconcertingly human - exactly like a young woman's laugh, which somehow made their inhuman features more striking.

"Oh, I'd definitely f-" the boy started, leaning far over the rail. WHACK.

"Finish that word and you're swimming home," his mother snapped, her hand still raised from smacking the back of his head. Adom chuckled. The kid wasn't the first to have that thought, wouldn't be the last. At least his mother's quick reflexes had stopped him from making a complete fool of himself.

"First time seeing them?" a woman asked her wide-eyed daughter.

"They're curious about all the changes too," Adom explained.

"The city's gotten quite interesting for everyone." The merfolk's greeting song rose over the waves as they escorted the ship through waters now busy with traffic from across the empire. As they drew closer, more details emerged. New towers rose from the merchant's isle, processing the influx of visitors. The Lighthouse of Law now served as a coordination center for city security. Even a new Glass Bridge had been made to handle increased traffic.

This was how magic was always meant to be used - not just for war, but for progress. For making things better.

"Look how many ships!" Someone pointed at the crowded harbor.

"Is it always like this?"

"Trial preparations," a sailor answered.

"Everyone wants to be here when they bring the prince to court." Adom spotted the new judicial complex - an impressive structure that would host the proceedings. Captain Voss's voice cut through the chatter.

"Prepare for docking! All passengers clear the deck!" Adom took one last look at the approaching city. Between the new security, the imperial presence, and the upcoming trial, this year at the academy would definitely be interesting. The ship eased into its berth with grace. Dockworkers swarmed over, securing lines and setting up gangplanks with the choreographed efficiency of a well-oiled machine. Adom shouldered his pack, waited for the initial rush of passengers to clear, then made his rounds.

A proper goodbye was important - three days on a ship made for interesting friendships. Marcel, an elderly merchant, accepted his defeat in their final chess match with grace, though the old man's eyes still held a glint of suspicion about that last gambit. Adom had won most of their games, actually - a fact that seemed to both impress and irritate the seasoned player. He found Sarah keeping a firm grip on little Tim's collar.

The boy's endless questions about ships and navigation had kept half the crew entertained - when he wasn't trying to climb the rigging or "help" adjust the sails. Captain Voss stood by the helm. Their eyes met, a nod exchanged. And off he went. The docks were organized chaos. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Porters moved between crates and passengers, while clerks checked papers under new enchanted archways that probably detected...

something. Adom didn't particularly want to find out what. Now, where was that shop? The Weird Stuff Store had been his regular haunt before he left. Before the changes, before the scrutiny became too much. Before he decided "screw it" and took Artun up on that offer to train. And train. And train some more. He'd trained day and night. Pushed until his muscles screamed. Until he grew - literally and figuratively. Eight months. Five of those spent getting his body to actually work right. He was taller now - 1.

68 meters, a full 8 centimeters more than before. Than ever before, really. His past life's growth had stopped with that illness, but this body? This body was making up for lost time. According to the many books on the subject, the average human grew about 10 centimeters yearly during puberty. He'd managed eight in eight months - matching the yearly average in just two-thirds the time. One centimeter per month, when most grew less than one.

[Healing Factor] was probably involved, accelerating what his body had been denied before. The new bridges made navigation tricky. Streets he'd known had been rerouted, familiar landmarks obscured by construction. He turned down what used to be Han's Lane, only to find it renamed Imperial Avenue. Really subtle, that. A group of mages zipped overhead, their wake rattling shop signs. One nearly collided with a flyer, leading to an exchange of creative curse words that made several mothers cover their children's ears.

After three wrong turns and one very confused conversation with a street vendor who swore this had always been the spice district (it hadn't), Adom finally spotted the familiar store. The bell chimed as Adom pushed open the door.

"Welcome to the Weird Stuff Sto- Oh! Adom!" Emma nearly dropped the crystal she was polishing. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, held together by what looked like two pencils and sheer optimism.

"Hey Emma. Already at work? School's just starting though."

"Oh, um, actually..." She adjusted her glasses.

"I never left? I mean, I live here. In Arkhos. With my family. So when they closed the academy, I just... stayed?"

"Ah, I see. Fourth year now, right? Healing?"

"Yes!" Her whole face lit up.

"The new curriculum is amazing - we're getting even more specialized electives this term. There's this fascinating course on regenerative magic that Professor Laurent is teaching, and-" She caught herself, cheeks reddening.

"Sorry, I'm rambling again."

"No worries. Good to see some things don't change." Emma smiled, then her eyes widened as if remembering something.

"Oh! Speaking of change - your fame's really grown, you know. The stories are getting pretty wild." She leaned on the counter, lowering her voice.

"I heard someone in the market yesterday saying you fought off a hundred royal guards while capturing the prince." Adom's eyes rolled skyward.

"A hundred? Last time it was fifty."

"And apparently you single-handedly cleared a rank S dungeon, defeated the entire Undertow syndicate, and stopped a war at the gates." She giggled.

"Though we both know the truth was-""Much more boring and involved a lot more running away?"

"Well, I was going to say 'complicated', but sure." Emma started reorganizing items that didn't need reorganizing - a nervous habit he remembered well.

"Still, it's kind of funny hearing all these stories when I know it's just... you? You know what I mean?"

"Hmm." Adom glanced around the surprisingly empty shop. Usually, there'd be at least one customer poking at things they shouldn't.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Oh, Mr. Biggins isn't back yet - he's at some supplier meeting with Mrs. Zara and Mr. Thorgen about-" Emma's eyes suddenly widened.

"Oh! Oh no, how could I forget?" She practically bolted to the back room, muttering to herself. The sounds of shuffling papers and moving boxes filtered through the doorway, punctuated by occasional "not here" and "where did I put it?" Adom leaned against the counter, watching with mild amusement as various objects flew past the doorway - was that a floating teapot?

"Found it!" Emma emerged triumphant, clutching an envelope that somehow managed to look both pristine and like it had been through a war.

"Mr. Biggins left this for you. Said to give it to you when you got back." She handed it over, then immediately started straightening the mess she'd created in her search.

"He was very specific about it. Made me promise three times. Which really should have helped me remember, but..." She trailed off, clearly fighting the urge to reorganize the entire back room.

"It's fine, Emma. Really." Adom watched her frantic organizing with a bemused smile. She really was like Sam - if Sam was somehow even more Sam. The thought of those two ever being together was either brilliant or terrifying. Maybe both. He opened the envelope, unfolding a single sheet of paper.

'Going to get some supplies for the rest of your training. Will be back in a few days. Take care!'

"That's... it?" Adom turned the paper over. Nothing on the back.

"Hmm?" Emma perked up.

"I thought it might be about your job application? You did apply to work here before you left, right? Mr. Biggins was quite excited about it, actually. Said something about having plans..." She trailed off, adjusting her glasses.

"Though knowing him, that could mean literally anything." Emma's voice faded in the back of his mind as it drifted to whatever it was that Biggins and co went to look for. The last eight months flashed through his mind. The day they'd all sat him down - Biggins, Thorgen, Zara, and Artun - and laid out the uncomfortable truth. A thirteen-year-old body, no matter who inhabited it, wasn't going to change anything. Not in this world. Not among the people who actually made decisions. The Order had waited for him, true.

But apparently, they hadn't expected... this. A child. Even with his previous life's knowledge, even with their backing, he needed more. Adom had to lay out the harsh reality for them that day. One he himself struggled to come to term with. Dragon's Breath would be created. It would. It was only a matter of time. The fact that the project was seen by the prince, Gale, Fox - there was simply no way a few concepts of it weren't out there somewhere.

All it would take would be a team of clever mages, which he was sure whoever the prince worked with could afford, and enough time in secrecy to come out with a potentially even worse version of the greatest weapon ever created by humanity. Wars would still break out. Catastrophes would pile up. And he couldn't be everywhere, couldn't stop every crisis as it happened. Playing whack-a-mole with disasters wasn't going to save anyone. No, he needed to be strategic.

Needed a position where he could actually influence events before they spiraled out of control. And the highest position available to someone not born into imperial blood? Archmage. The title meant something. When the Archmage spoke, nations listened. Their word could mobilize every mage in the empire, shape policies, prevent wars before they started. One person, in the right position, could do more than an army of heroes running from crisis to crisis. The path there was clear. Difficult, but clear.

First step: turn his below-average thirteen-year-old body into something that could actually handle battle magic. His first physical assessment had been almost funny, in a sad way. Below average in too many things. So Artun had taken over. Five months of hell disguised as training. Five months of his muscles screaming, of learning to move in ways he never had before - in either life. Of falling down and getting back up. Again. And again. And again. The letter crinkled in his hand.

"Supplies for the rest of my training," he muttered. Coming from Biggins, that could mean anything from rare herbs to an actual dragon. Literally.

"Thanks for the letter, Emma." Adom tucked it into his pocket.

"Try not to reorganize the whole shop before they get back."

"I won't!" She adjusted her glasses, already eyeing a shelf that probably didn't need fixing.

"Well, I'll try not to. Maybe." The bell chimed as he stepped outside. With Biggins and the others away, there wasn't much point hanging around. Xerkes it was. He'd barely made it three steps when-"Adom?" That voice. He turned. Eren stood there, grinning, decked out in the full Xerkes uniform. The black robes actually worked on him, complementing his usual casual confidence. Still the same messy hair though. Adom smiled.

"It suits you well."