Helare could not believe she had needed an excuse to see Rafael. She did not want to appear desperate. But was she? Was she desperate to see him?

He was too busy the day after the fight. She could see the clatter around him. Of moulds and tools and half finished things of metal. And he looked tired. She could see it in the few sloppy products he made at times. And the area around him was uncomfortable, being as it was too hot for her blue blood. It was like he was working on three products at every specific moment.

He was rushing again. Rushing toward some goal she did not know. Was the goal to leave her? To leave this world? To go some place she could not follow him?

She wouldn't let that happen if she could help it. What she couldn't help though, was leaving him to his devices for a bit. She wanted to see what it was he was expecting to happen. And so she watched and waited.

Nothing happened that first day. Except that he ignored Hestus. And the little merchant was also apparently not comfortable getting close to the forge. It was hot enough even an E grade being respected it.

Helare eventually left, but the sound of the hammer followed her through her evening activities. And it lulled her to sleep hours later.

He woke up earlier than her the next day. She couldn't believe it.

Yet he was still rushing. On this day, she decided that going to see him would be useless as well. There was little chance she'd get to speak with him anyway.

"Why did you fight him?" she asked Filoria.

The other girl shrugged. "I don't like him, I guess," she answered without any sort of passion.

"You don't like him? But, you don't like me too, do you? Yet you've never challenged me to a duel."

Filoria startled when she heard that, but she was quick to regain her poise. She had always been quick. Since when had she hated being close to Helare? Did anyone she knew not loathe her very existence?

Well, there was one person who seemed indifferent at worst. She reasoned if she played her cards right, maybe she'd have someone who felt a little partial to her. Even that would be enough for her, wouldn't it?

"Hate you… princess? I don—"

"Don't worry about it, Filoria. I didn't know, I'm sorry. When I return to the palace, I'll request for a new guard."

"Wait, princess!" Filoria said, her voice panicky. "I really don't hate my job."

Helare looked at her, turning over the words. She studied the girl's face, cataloguing all the hints it provided. She had thought she knew the right things to study when she evaluated her opponents. It turned out she had always focused on the wrong things. Or she'd had an incomplete picture all along.

Filoria needed the job. She was desperate to stay Helare's guard for some unknown reason. But her panicked words hadn't addressed the matter of hating Helare.

It was a bit sad, because, to Helare, Filoria was the person she'd been close to in all her life. She hadn't ever had any long term ladies in waiting because she hadn't yet had her societal debut. Her nanny had also been nanny to many of her older sisters, so she wasn't her favourite by a long shot.

Her father had never paid attention, even after giving her this supposedly important mission. It was when Filoria came after the long war. It was when she got someone her age to hangout with that things became bright again.

"I… see," she said, and somehow her voice did not break. "Still, I'd like to know why you challenged Rafael?"

Filoria frowned, her face lined with uncertainty. She looked into Helare's eyes after a bit of silence, but she froze before she could say anything.

"I'll explain to her highness," a gravelly voice said from behind Helare.

She turned around almost instinctively, not even bothering to take note of Filoria's change in expression.

"Lord Seawhisperer," she greeted.

"Your highness the princess. I apologize for going behind your back. I needed to test the boy."

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"I knew you were involved," Helare said. "Filoria had mentioned you before our hunting trip. I know how you work. Besides, the Burned captives would never attempt to fight for my honour without some kind of incentive."

The old man frowned. Then he smirked before opening his mouth. "I have the feeling you underestimate your…physical…influence over them. You would be reminded to note there were more males than females in the riot."

"Hmm? That is true…" Helare said uncertainly. "What does it have to do with anything?"

The man was silent for a moment, subjecting Helare to such intense scrutiny she wanted to shrink into her boots. He was a trainer, and every time he studied someone in Helare's presence, it was to insult their form or posture or discipline or comment on how they would never make it in life.

Of course he'd never say that about her. She was a Ma'la of the most pure order. Her affinity for water was so strong she couldn't afford to pick a hybrid class of any kind. She was a mage through and through, and her mana capacity was so swollen it was obscene. Besides, she was a princess. She required that much respect even from someone who could squash her like a bug and who was twice as old as her mother.

Then, uncharacteristically, Collab Seawhisperer sighed. "I guess your obliviousness is amusing."

"What?" Helare wasn't sure where he was going, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"Nevermind. You don't need to know what incentives I gave them. All that matters is that I needed to test the boy."

"Alright… So you're saying you're interested in training him or something?"

Collab turned to the direction of the forge. It was turning into a mini-town of its own, and so it had adapted the name of the old capital of the children of Burn. Helare followed his example. And that was when she noticed the banging had stopped.

"I was interested…" the old warrior said.

Helare frowned.

"You're not anymore?" it was Filoria who asked, beating Helare to the punch.

She was curious too. Why the hell would Collab give up the chance to train someone like him? He was not a warrior, yet he'd given Filoria so much trouble. He didn't use too many techniques like she did, and he hadn't used his insights at all during the fight. Except to protect himself from Filoria's frigid aura.

"If it was in the old days, I'd think the child needed to train under me but… he is a foreigner. And he is hiding something. A lot of somethings to be exact. I feel like any interference on my part may disrupt an otherwise very unique path. I'd still like to spend a few days with him. Not teaching him par se… I just need to talk to him a bit. Maybe advise him on a few things. Maybe ask for a few pointers myself."

"Ask for a few pointers?" Filoria said, her voice dripping defeated disbelief. Her shoulders were slumped and her face slack.

"It is true," Collab said. "He is not Ma'la. He doesn't have to fight his own nature to wield weapons of metal and wood like us. He has an advantage, and so he has greater potential than we on this path."

Helare didn't think she understood the man's words. Was he saying the boy was stronger than him? An E grade? Was he saying he expected Rafael to become a warrior eventually? But he was a profession build. A crafter. A blacksmith. Did he have more techniques hidden away somewhere than the one he'd tried and failed to use on Filoria? The one he'd once used to save their lives? And what about skills.

What exactly was Collab trying to say? The only plausible explanation was that, even if he was currently weaker, he was ultimately more knowledgeable about fighting than Collab. Perhaps more experienced somehow. Although how that was possible when Collab had fought in the world wars since the days of the sky people, she wasn't likely ever going to find out. Collab had fought for thousands of years.

Of course, if Rafael was a warrior or any other kind of class, he would find it easy to break into the E grade. He already had his insights. Even as a crafter he was going to break through easily. And perhaps after that he'd race up the ranks and easily break through the D grade. The D grade where people like Collab had been stuck for years, decades.

It was one thing they had to concede to the system. Faster leveling speeds. Something that took literally hundreds of years before could now be done in little over a few decades. And with tiered dungeons that provided time dilation, well…

The only problem was bottlenecks due to conceptual growth.

Rafael was conceptually talented enough that he wouldn't plausibly meet any such bottlenecks any time soon. Was that what Collab meant? Had he meant that Rafael was going to surpass him soon and that he did not want to train another person like the chosen?

Then Helare gasped. Had he meant Rafael was as special as the chosen? Wasn't that all but a confirmation of her double core theory?

These and many such thoughts raced through her mind all day. She went through her tasks manually. She spoke to the quarter master to ask about the supply situation.

She talked to the overseers to see how the mines were doing. New veins were always being discovered. It was strange. Hadn't they reached the half-life of the current instance yet? Normally they had to leave the dungeon and reset the instance every six months. Now they had been here almost five months, and there was no sign productivity was about to drop.

She had to go through other meetings to ensure the temporary settlement was being run efficiently. Then she went to Hestus. He was camped on her way to Rafael anyway, so she could as well see him while she made her way over to the forge. And maybe she could figure out how their side business was doing.

Hestus pulled a note pad out of his storage ring. It was a lot more impressive than the F grade one Helare had, but also correspondingly expensive. He was a merchant anyway, so what did she expect?

He was still adjusting his glasses to start reading when the banging started up again.

"He does not know the meaning of rest, does he?" she said jokingly to Hestus.

But he wasn't smiling in exasperation when she turned to him. He wasn't even frowning in…. He was gawking, his face full of trepidation.

"What is he doing? What…is that? Are those insights?" he asked.

And suddenly, Helare could feel it too.

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