The Veiled Man
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The Martial God - Chapter 72
🕑 Added 2025-01-06 16:00:12 +0000 UTCChapter 72: Of Promises and Unspoken Truths
An Obsidian stood at the edge of Waybound’s outer courtyard, her pale hair catching the remnants of the moonlight that filtered through the thinning clouds. Despite the late hour, her posture radiated the poise of nobility. A flicker of light caught her eye—an arcane dome of faint crimson encasing the academy grounds. It was well-hidden with magic from most people’s eyes. Beside her, Mirella, wearing her maid’s uniform and bearing lines of age on her face, quietly waited.
Neither spoke as they observed the dome’s last pulses of magic.
Moments later, the barrier collapsed, dissolving into wisps of energy. In its absence, the grim truth was revealed. Embers burned, walls lay cracked or shattered, and flickers of fire danced across the once-pristine academy buildings.
There was chaos everywhere.
The Obsidian’s gaze remained steady on the chaos. “Such pure destruction,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur. “Demons, no doubt. The Demon King’s forces, most likely. Lucky my daughter missed this festival.” A soft exhale carried her worry. “Seems like the demons have been defeated. Heh, Waybound will face the wrath of many noble parents after this.”
Mirella lowered her head respectfully. “Indeed, Lady Munera. Word about the breach reached the crowd just earlier, and a group of people outside had been trying to break the dome but failed. Now that it’s gone, the devastation inside is plain to see. This incident is catastrophic, more so than any attack in recent memory. ”
Munera Obsidian, the new Matriarch of the Obsidian Vampire, who took the seat when her brother, Val Obsidian, the Vampiric Prince, deemed himself unworthy to lead after great failure, smiled at the academy. “Such recklessness… it’s fun to look at.”
Mirella smiled as well. Since Iskandaar wanted Nebula to hide her lineage somehow, she called for help from the most skilled person. She was glad to know her lady hadn’t changed one bit in the many years they hadn’t seen one another.
Munera then directed her attention to Mirella, who maintained a deferential stance. “I’ve seen enough, my dear. Take me to Nebula. She’s still in that mansion, yes?”
“She is, my lady,” Mirella confirmed with a polite bow. “Please follow me.”
With that, they turned from the academy’s ruined silhouette. Flames danced in the courtyard behind her, casting elongated shadows along the cracked pavement. A distant crash punctuated the air—one more structure giving way in the attack's aftermath.
Mirella led the way into the winding streets beyond Waybound city’s front. The sounds of conflict faded as they wove through dark alleys and quiet byways, rushing toward the Fenixia Mansion. Munera’s red eyes reflected rare emotion—love, resolve, and a hint of anxiety—as she contemplated what lay ahead.
She was finally going to meet her daughter.
Step by step, they vanished into the night, leaving the academy’s crimson afterglow behind.
****
Solara Fenixia sat in the quiet infirmary, her wings folded neatly at her back. The hum of healing wards drifted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of potions and salves. Three days had passed since the catastrophic battle, yet the memory of fire and ash still clung to the corners of her mind. It reminded her of that nightmare in which her family perished.
She shifted in her chair, gaze fixed on Iskandaar’s sleeping figure.
He lay on the medical bed, a sturdy frame supporting his unconscious body. Bandages wrapped his chest and arms, the evidence of his brutal encounter with Ashvarak. An encounter that few knew about. Solara found it funny that a hero had to hide himself simply because he had Demonic Energy in his veins. What a strange world this was.
Despite the gravity of his injuries, the Healers—Waybound’s best, plus some from the city and even elven specialists—had declared him out of immediate danger. Whatever that skill was, it had drained him enough to send him to a coma for weeks or possibly months. But their combined efforts had stabilized him, ensuring he escaped death’s clutches. Still, no one knew when he would awaken, but it shouldn’t take long.
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. A dull ache pulsed in her shoulder, a reminder of her own wounds sustained in the fighting.
Nebula and Lilian weren’t here, either. She’d gone to fetch Nebula before, but Mirella told her that she was extremely busy and it’d be harmful to interrupt. As for Lilian… Solara was starting to get worried about that girl. Where had she vanished to?
Still, despite so many things to worry about, Solara’s every thought settled on him. Three days, she mused, running a thumb along the edge of the blanket draped across his waist. Three days, and no sign of his eyes opening.
A flicker of memory stirred—his sudden transformation, halo-like energy blazing behind his back. She swallowed hard. A different Iskandaar from a possible future, he had said. She recalled how that other version addressed her, speaking of tragedies undone, of a timeline where she’d apparently been lost.
Her heart hammered every time she remembered his words.
“I missed you, Solara. But don’t worry. The Prime won’t have to.”
The vow replayed in her mind. She had never imagined Iskandaar might carry such… strong feelings for her. Or that some future iteration of him had cherished her deeply. They had never been that close here. She’d teased him, bantered with him, fought by his side in the academy’s training sessions. But that day, in the heart of demonic flames, he had looked at her with an intimacy she couldn’t define.
She trusted him and did anything he might ask of her, but it wasn’t the same thing as between him and Nebula. Just… what happened between her and him in the future?
A swirl of confusion twisted in her stomach. She was not blind to the fact that he already had a fiancée—Nebula Carlstein was a girl of refinement and strength. She was stronger than herself, truth be told. Although now that Solara had learned martial arts, it was probably not true. Iskandaar and Nebula’s engagement had been widely noted around the academy, and she knew it was more of a family arrangement than a grand love story. Then… did that mean he didn’t love her? At least, not wholly.
Solara bit her lip. What am I thinking, this is so stupid. She wasn’t jealous, was she? She shook the thought away, unwilling to label her feelings just yet.
Despite that, she couldn’t shake off that question. In that distant future, who was she to him? How close had they become that he said he’d risk everything to spare her from death?
A shiver traveled the length of her wings. She tried to imagine it—standing beside him in the face of apocalyptic battles, forging a bond beyond… friendship. A flush warmed her cheeks. Could that spark exist here and now?
She sighed, reaching for a jug of water on the bedside table. Her throat felt tight. This mixture of gratitude, curiosity, and a faint hope unsettled her. A year ago, she’d barely known him beyond his name. Then, step by step, they’d fought side by side, forging a camaraderie. But in three days of silent vigil, her perspective had shifted drastically.
She stood, crossing the small distance toward the infirmary’s supply counter, grabbing a fresh cup. The glass trembled slightly in her grip as she poured water. “Huh?” Halfway through, she paused, glancing over her shoulder.
Was that… a twitch?
Iskandaar’s fingers curled against the sheets, a faint tremor running up his arm. Her pulse quickened. Abandoning the water, she hurried back to him, heart hammering as she leaned in. “Iskandaar?” she whispered, gently taking his hand in hers. “Iskandaar, can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered, the faintest groan escaping his lips. Solara’s hope soared, and she held his hand tighter, leaning close. The world around them—the quiet beep of magical wards, the soft lamplight—felt suspended, as though everything funneled down to this moment.
Finally, he managed a ragged breath, voice barely audible. “W-water…” he rasped.
It was lucky that she’d already prepared a cup. Solara wasted no time. She snatched the cup and pressed it gently to his mouth as he drank. Relief washed over her when she saw color returning to his cheeks. He lowered the cup with a small shudder, exhaling softly.
Once he finished, she set the cup aside. For a moment, neither spoke, content in the relief of his return. She searched his face for signs of pain or confusion, but what she found instead was a quiet steadiness. He blinked once, then opened his mouth to speak, but a small cough intervened.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, supporting him with her free hand. “Take your time.”
A cough or two later, his voice emerged, hoarse but firm enough. “Solara,” he said, exhaling like he’d just lifted a massive burden. “Thank you… for staying.”
She felt color rise to her cheeks. “I’m… you’re welcome,” she replied, struggling to maintain composure. “Are you hurting anywhere? We can call the Healer if you need.”
He blinked, head turning to survey the room. “Tired. Sore.” His voice wavered. “But alive, I guess. What… happened after I passed out? Did—who else… who else died? Haah, is Amelia alright?”
She swallowed, the memories of the horrific night swirling behind her eyes. He didn’t remember, as the future variant had said. His desperation struck something deep within her.
“No one,” she replied, voice steady, as he tilted his head. “No one died. After you used that skill, nothing else was lost. You saved them all, Iskandaar.”
A flicker of emotion lit Iskandaar’s face, his eyes shining with appreciation or something even stronger. Solara looked away, unsure how to bear that look. For a moment, they simply breathed together, alive in the quiet hush of the infirmary.
****
Solara told me everything. I didn’t remember anything after the skill “failed,” but turns out it didn’t quite fail, and she told me everything about that.
Three days... I'd been out for that long. My eyes drifted around the infirmary. The walls bore fresh warding runes, likely renewed after the chaos. Outside the windows, faint sunlight hinted at an early morning, but I couldn't be sure.
Maybe it was evening instead? My sense of time still felt scrambled.
I sat upright against the stacked pillows, my body still stiff and aching, and let those words sink in. It had only been a handful of minutes since I'd woken, and Solara had wasted no time relaying what happened after Ashvarak punched me.
“So… yeah…” she said, shrugging with uneasiness. Her voice had been calm but tinged with underlying tension all this time as if she was unsure about her own words. From the slow, measured way she spoke, I suspected she’d wrestled with her own thoughts these past three days. I couldn’t blame her when she started explaining.
She’d started her explanation from the swirling demonic illusions that had flooded the academy, the horrifying aura of Ashvarak when she saw me shoot across the sky before she caught me. And then the explosion of that strange halo behind my back—which my “future self” called [The Photon Ring]. Apparently. He’d also dropped mention of another skill called [Event Horizon].
I recalled none of these, but I believed her. As a modern man from the 21st century in mind, I knew what an event horizon was. The people of this world didn’t know that. So although my memories flickered with less than half-clarity, I trusted her words.
“I see,” I said after she finished, unsure what to say. My future self clearly trusted Solara enough to reveal [Temporal Overdraft] and that it pulled other Iskandaars from the endless pool that was the universe. I was lost in the swirl of half-remembered images.
Solara’s mouth opened like she wanted to add more, yet she hesitated. I didn’t push her for it. If it was important, she’d tell me. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile, glancing sideways at the door. She definitely was reluctant to mention something. If Iskandaar from the future trusted her so much, perhaps he’d told her something odd?
That wasn’t the only thing. I’d expected Nebula and Lilian to be here when I woke up, but according to Solara, neither came to visit me once. Lilian wasn’t back yet, and Nebula was apparently very busy with something.
I could understand Nebula. I didn’t know how the process of hiding vampiric secrets was, so there was probably something going on that required her utmost focus. But Lilian… if she heard about the attack on Waybound, she’d rush back immediately.
Did something happen to her? Worry etched my mind as I frowned. I let out a breath and settled deeper into the pillows. My hand drifted over the sheets, feeling the quiet hush of the infirmary pressed in around us.
A small group of Healers was posted near the entry hall, but none hovered near my bed. Solara seemed to have chased them away, claiming I needed rest more than fuss.
I cleared my throat, about to voice my thanks. But a sudden flicker of light in the corner of my vision distracted me. The notification icon was red; I’d been ignoring it for a while now. I decided to check them out first before returning to conversation. I focused, and the icon expanded to a text wall covering my vision.
[You have tapped into the power of a possible future. The power you’ve gained is miniscule. The cost is negligible: 5 years of your lifespan have been lost.]
[The timeline you’ve borrowed power from has been closed for any future use.]
[Additional costs apply. Any Experience Points you earn will be reduced by 90% for the next two weeks.]
[Ascension Quest ‘Slay Ashvarak or Damage His Soul Irreparably’ has been completed! You’ve damaged Ashvarak’s soul.]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've reached Level 59!]
[The Heavenly Demon Skill Tree’s proficiency has reached 41.62%. You've been enlightened about two techniques!]
[...You've processed and learned a technique from the True Demon God Art.]
[True Demon God Art: Infernal Bloodstorm has been learned.]
[Description: The user calls forth a storm of demonic blood infused with their Qi, creating a torrent of crimson energy that devastates the battlefield. Each droplet of the storm is razor-sharp, cutting through armor, flesh, and even magic. The bloodstorm is an extension of the user's wrath, growing stronger the more enraged they are.]
[...You've processed and learned the fifth move of the True Demon Sword Art.]
[Additional knowledge about ‘swordsmanship’ in general comes with this to help you properly perform it. The knowledge is intricate enough to level up a skill.]
[Swordsmanship (Intermediate) has been upgraded to Swordsmanship (Master).]
I blinked several times, letting those words register. My mind reeled at the avalanche of level-ups. I’d gained ten levels! Even when I defeated the Vampiric Father, I’d only gained nine. To be fair, I didn’t deal the last blow. But still.
Though I'd not landed the final blow on Ashvarak, he’d escaped. I'd apparently caused enough soul damage to fulfill that Ascension Quest, reaped spoils from killing Kazreth and his host earlier, and purified many infected humans. All those together, and I’d crossed the gains from the Vampiric Father.
Five years of my lifespan was shaved away, though. A small numbness lodged itself in my chest. I’d hoped there wouldn’t be any cost since I rolled a timeline where I was a cripple, but it still cut off five years. I looked at Solara from the corner of my eyes.
I have her to help me out on that. But the gain won’t be as much as the first time since she had her wings out for five whole years back then. I’ll manage. I noted. Then there was that 90% XP penalty. For two weeks, I'd barely gain progress. It wasn’t that bad, considering it saved everyone from that fiasco.
A small laugh escaped me, drawing Solara’s attention. “Is something wrong?” she asked, leaning forward. Concern etched her features.
I shook my head. “Nah, just some aftereffects of that said skill,” I said, and thankfully she didn’t pry any further. She couldn’t see the system notifications, anyway. “But… well, I’m good.”
“I see…”
“Actually,” I cleared my throat, “how about you, Solara? How did you fare? Any level gains?”
A flicker of relief crossed her face—maybe she was happy I’d turned the conversation to her rather than my own secrets. “Yes, actually,” she admitted, a smile playing on her lips. “I managed to cross into the Fourth Ascension.”
“Fourth?” My eyebrows shot up. “Congratulations. That’s a real milestone.”
She shrugged lightly, then let out a quiet laugh. “I’m not certain how. I know I got the Ascension Quest, but I didn’t know what it was about. We need to head to a church to view our Ascension Quests, you know? But whatever the quest was, it was completed. My guess is purifying those infected humans. But to be more specific, I felt my body just change after I caught you in the air for the second time after you defeated Ashvarak. I felt an energy rush. Then the next moment, I realized I’d ascended.”
“Mhm,” I nodded. I could see my Ascension Quest laid out so blatantly, but the others were not the same. Speaking of, since she was part of my cult, could I show her the Ascension Quest? “By the way, come here for a moment.”
I called, and she blinked. She leaned over, and I tilted my head. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just reached out a hand, placing it on her cheek, my fingers pushing a few strands of her hair behind her ears. “Show…” I murmured, “Ascension Quest… History?”
Was that the right thing to say?
Whatever the case, the way Solara’s eyes widened, trembling as she stared into the air, I realized I’d succeeded. I smiled. “Can you see?”
“Y-yes… What? How?” She looked at me with a bewildered expression, and I laughed.
“You follow me as a cult leader,” I whispered, “as your god, and then you ask how? Come on, have some faith in me.” Although I said that to appear cool, I was surprised. I’d just pulled off a feat worthy of a god.
“So what’s the Quest?” I asked, and she blinked. Her face went red as she stared at the empty air. I waited for her, and she fell silent, unwilling to answer. “Well, fine, I won’t pry. Your wings look stronger, by the way. More beautiful.”
Her cheeks glowed faintly at the compliment, clearing her throat. “T-thanks.” She said and went quiet, fiddling with the corner of the blanket at my side. “There’s… something else I needed to say. About what you—no, the other you—said to me.”
“The other me,” I murmured. “The future version, you mean. What is it?”
She nodded, swallowing. “He… told me I wouldn’t die this time. And that he wouldn’t have to… to miss me.” Her voice grew softer, picking each word with care. I realized how impactful those words must be to her, for even my own eyes trembled.
Solara died in that future…? For a moment, I recalled how this wasn’t some children’s story destined to find a happy ending. I had to be more careful. More cautious. An unexpected pang seized my chest as I looked at the girl. She must be scared.
My mind reeled, picturing that older me—The Crippled Heaven, was it?—carrying regrets big enough to rewire fate. I breathed out shakily, uncertain how to process that. “He’s right, Solara. The future isn’t set on stone. I don’t know… what happened to his Solara, but you won’t die. Not as long as I’m here.” Our eyes met, and she stared in silence, her eyes holding back emotions. “...Did he say anything else?”
“He looked at me like… like I was someone precious to him. And, well…” Solara was about to continue, but at that precise moment, the door banged open.
“Where is he?!” We both jolted, turning to see Lilian charging in, hair disheveled, bruises marring her arms and cheeks. Her wolf ears twitched anxiously, eyes wide as they locked onto me. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then her gaze flitted to my half-sitting form, realization hitting, and relief washed over her face.
She burst toward the bed so fast that Solara had to jump aside. “Young master!” Lilian exclaimed, voice cracking with raw emotion. Her arms flew around me, hugging me tight enough to make me wince. I let out a startled laugh, hugging her back.
She pressed her face to my shoulder, and I felt her trembling. “I— Sorry, I was at a place where news didn’t reach. But I got here as soon as I could,” she choked out, sniffing loudly. “They said you hadn’t woken up for days, that they couldn’t be sure when you’ll wake up!” She drew back just enough to see my face, her wolf-like eyes glimmering with tears. “Why… why do you always risk your life so stupidly, huh?! You should have called me!”
A gentle wave of warmth flooded my chest. “Hey now,” I teased, ruffling her messy hair. “I was only doing what I had to. You remember the sword that split Lockdarn? I tapped into the same power. I’m never dying, rest assured. I’m awake, see? Perfectly alive.”
She sniffled, releasing me somewhat grudgingly. “If you call this alive, with all these bandages,” she retorted, though a tentative smile tugged at her lips. Her ears twitched again, a telltale sign she struggled between anger and sheer relief. She might have done more if Solara wasn’t here.
From behind Lilian, I caught a glimpse of the phoenix girl. She’d stepped back, wings slightly drooped, an unreadable expression on her face. A swirl of conflicting emotions passed over her features before she quickly masked them. I sighed in my head. My future self and her future self… I don’t think she realizes the concept of timelines properly, this could cause a problem.
I offered her a grateful nod for the company she’d given me these past few days, but I wasn’t sure she caught it. Her gaze remained fixed on where Lilian clung to me.
I stopped worrying about things. Lilian was back, and although she looked a bit injured, she was mostly fine. I was just grateful to be awake, to see them both safe and near me. Lilian caused a cute commotion, her face bright with a sense of relief, as she squeezed my hand before rushing out to bring me food.
Solara stood by, wings gently folded, her expression unreadable.
Comments
The Hand Behind the Veil
Hahaha, that'll certainly be fun! As for your question, we don't know for sure. Having Admin Access to the system would make him insanely OP, like a universe-level type. Actually, it's not canon yet since it's not been stated, but in my head, the Planet Vear'thia is part of a universe/many universes that is ruled by a System. I plan to write a System Apocalypse story in the future, and perhaps we'll get a mention or two about Iskandaar. Sometime in the future.... 👏!!
Leonardo Afonso
harem route for the win
Ron1990
But there are different tastes. I like a balance between personal development, power fighting and world creation. More Dune than DBZ perhaps. A world setting between baroque and early mago-industrial age has many potential of drama. Families, who use their children for powerplay? Yes, drama ahead. A society with resemblance to victorian times? Full of drama. Think of how prudish officially the second half of the 19th century was. How popular Vampire and Werewolve stories got? And why? And harem? We got three strong women, what do you expect :-). And it's all powerplay around Iskandaar. Imho Lilians grandmother saw Iskandaars potential, marked him and literally shoved her granddaughter on his lap. Because of some potential powergain in the future. Solara as the last heir of her family? She needed protection and currency. She want vengeance for her family. Iskandaar has the potential to help her. And Nebula? The offspring of a financially broken house? She would have killed the old Iskandaar on her first birthday together. But her mother will learn about the new Iskandaar, and Nebula will be by his side, even if she have to wear a pink tutu all day. Vampires with the backing of a demon god.Powerplay! And Amelia? In secret she wishes to be 500 years younger. So Iskandaar is in the middle of a raging storm. They all have to find a way to handle this whole mess especially with growing emotions. And yes, I want to read it. Because as a team they are unstoppable. And I want to read of other parts of the realm, because it is so a vivid world, other parts are worth to be seen. So tastes vary, and the wordsmith have to make all of us happy :-D. Moreover I'm happy, The Veiled Man is not G.R.R. Martin. We would have now the third party of protagonists, all other dead :-D. And, oh, Iskandaar has some admin access to the system?
The Hand Behind the Veil
I've actively trying not to make drama, so don't worry about that, but some bare-bones is nessesary for it to matter and be an enjoyable process. Do let me know through comments what you're liking and what you're not liking!!
Blake Weltner
TFTC. Please don’t waste too many chapters on Harem Relationship drama/Politics. That’s what ruins most harem stories for me when the author wastes multiple chapters on it to end with now they are all friends/sister wives.
James Faulkner
Tftc!
SC
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