After a short silence, he said quietly, "You can start asking questions now."
She didn't hesitate. The words came out almost on their own:
"Do you mind telling me if you're an assassin sent to kill me?"
Nephis wasn't even sure why she asked it so bluntly. Maybe it was the lingering influence of his laughter — how strangely human it had sounded. Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe it was just the need to break through the haze of uncertainty.
If he was lying about his flaw… if he truly was an assassin… this was the moment he'd make a move. Most people couldn't stay calm after their hidden intent was laid bare. And she didn't think Sunny was one of the rare few who could.
But if he wasn't lying — and he wasn't an assassin — then this was the simplest way to find out.
Sunny chuckled again. Not mockingly. Just amused.
"No, I don't mind. And no, I'm not an assassin sent to kill you."
Nephis let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Then, more composed now, she asked the second question. Her voice was quieter, more measured:
"Do you mind telling me… those strange movements you practiced earlier — are they your battle technique? And if they are, where did you learn them? And if not… why were you practicing them?"
"I don't mind," Sunny replied simply. "Yes, those movements are my battle technique. Or at least… they will be. I didn't learn them from anyone. I created them myself. But the origin, the foundation — it comes from the Shadow Dance. The one practiced by the temple slaves of the Shadow God."
She was stunned. She had never heard anything like that. A seventeen-year-old boy from the outskirts… creating his own battle art? That was unheard of. Who is this boy? she thought.
Then he said, casually, "Alright. One more question for tonight. Then I really need to sleep… even though, honestly, I'd like to talk with you more."
She hesitated for a moment, then asked:
"What are your goals in life? What do you want to accomplish?"
Sunny smiled, a quiet, almost tired smile.
"Nothing much," he said. "I just want to protect the people who are precious to me."
Then he tilted his head and added, "What about you? What's your goal in life?"
Nephis froze.
She had expected something else — wealth, power, fame. That's what someone from the outskirts would want, wasn't it? That's what she had assumed. But instead… it was something far simpler. And, in a way, something far more impossible.
Because no amount of money had been able to protect her mother. Not even the endless wealth of the Immortal Flame Clan could save her father.
So she answered him honestly.
"I want to destroy the Nightmare Spell," she said quietly. "Because it took my mother from me. And because… all the terrible things happening in this world, they all stem from it. My father died because of it, too."
Sunny's presence shifted. Something in him changed — the lightness vanished. He grew still, focused. Sharp.
She noticed. At first, she braced herself. Maybe he was going to mock her. Or call her goal childish. Impossible.
But he didn't.
Instead, he nodded slowly and said, "I wish you good luck… but I suggest you reevaluate your goals once you learn more about this world."
And then, he asked something unexpected.
"Let me ask you a question. What do you think came first — the Nightmare Spell, or the Corruption? Or… is the number of gates that open related to the number of Awakened, Ascended, and Transcendent humans on Earth?"
She opened her mouth, ready to argue, to dismiss his words as nonsense. But he kept speaking.
"And if they are connected… could it be that the more people ascend, the more gates appear?"
She wanted to cut him off — to call the whole line of thinking absurd. But then he added, calmly:
"How do you think the Obel Scale works?"
That stopped her cold.
"I'll tell you," he continued. "These aren't my ideas. They were the theories of Professor Obel himself. The Obel Scale works on a simple principle. A gate opening is like a stone thrown into a river. It creates ripples… waves that travel in all directions. Forward and backward."
Then he elaborated the things Professor Obel told him once. Speaking in a strange, thoughtful tone, as though remembering something from a dream.
He looked up at the dark sky.
"That's why we can sense a Nightmare Gate before it opens. Because its ripple reaches us… from the future. Or at least, we used to. But that's changing, too."
He turned to her, his eyes catching the faint glow of starlight.
"Nephis… the world is going to change. The rules we thought were set in stone? They aren't. The truths we believed in? Some of them were never true to begin with. And the things we take for granted…" he shook his head slowly, "we'll have to fight for every last one of them."
His voice lowered.
"You are the proof of it. You'll be the axis everything revolves around. The pivot."
He paused.
"Changing Star."
The name lingered in the night air, heavy with meaning.
"Star of Ruin."
He looked at her with a strange expression — not admiration, not awe… something colder. A recognition of inevitability.
"That's what your name means, if translated manually. Without the Spell's filter."
Nephis sat very still.
Then he stood up.
"Think about it," he said. "And now… good night. I really have to sleep. Though I doubt you'll be able to, after hearing all that."