The question gnawed at me.
And if Nolan was an elf prince, then this brother had to be either a full elf or at least half-elf.
Probably an illegitimate child, given the "hidden in the dark" part.
Nobles and royals spreading their seed like weeds, then pretending the resulting children didn’t exist. Abandoning them, locking them away—acting like their own blood was some shameful secret.
What’s wrong with these people?
This was a fantasy world where kings and emperors existed. So, polygamy must be practically a royal sport; they liked having a lot of wives after all.
If you couldn’t keep it in your pants, at least own the consequences.
Even though I knew not everyone was like that, I still found it hateful.
Even animals are better than you guys.
And, if we think logically, they had the power and the money, why not just acknowledge the kid and their mother? Bring them into the family?
Better to shove the kid in a closet and hope they suffocate quietly.
Secrets. Lies. Shadows.
Disgust curled in my gut.
Shaking my head, I forced myself back on track.
The real question was—who?
I didn’t know any other elves or half-elves besides Nolan. Then again, if this "brother" was hiding, they’d likely conceal their heritage—maybe masking their ears, dyeing their hair. Maybe even using a relic or technique to pass as human.
Had I... met them without realizing it?
A chill prickled my neck.
What if they were closer than I thought?
What if they were right under my nose all this time?!
But before I could spiral further, I forced my attention to the rewards. If the System dropped another bombshell, I’d need to pace myself—my mental bandwidth wasn’t infinite.
My gaze flicked to the [Affinity Boost: Nolan +★], and my lips curled in amusement.
So the prickly elf prince actually "liked" me now?
Probably because of all the backhanded praise I’d thrown his way—or maybe because he’d gotten to meet his long-lost brother thanks to me. Either way, I’d take it.
Two stars was better than the single grudging star he’d probably given me before.
"You don’t follow others’ paths. You pull others off theirs."
+10% Void Affinity – Your connection to the void deepens, subtly enhancing void-based abilities and making you resonate more strongly with abyssal or spatial aura.
The description was... unsettlingly accurate. I had been yanking people off their predetermined tracks—Aeron, Nolan, even Zephyr and Luna.
But what caught my attention was the effect:
A grin tugged at my mouth.
One of the most powerful and versatile concepts—spatial manipulation, abyssal energy, even teleportation in higher tiers. Both Virion and Zephyr had high void affinity, and now...
Did I always have it? Or did this title awaken it?
Come to think of it, the spatial tear explosion might have helped me.
Maybe that incident had seeded the affinity, and this title just nurtured it. A blessing in disguise, was it?
"I’ll have to test it later."
For now, I was just grateful. A 10% boost was nothing to scoff at.
Then came the achievement.
[Royal Mop Diplomacy]
"You convinced an elven prince that janitorial duty is a noble calling. Bonus points if he still doesn’t know."
Noble’s Favor (Passive) – High-ranking individuals (nobles, royals, elites) unconsciously perceive you as more charming and inoffensive, making them less likely to dismiss or insult you on sight. (Does not guarantee friendship—just a better first impression.)
I snorted at the description.
Bonus points if he still doesn’t know, huh.
As for the effect, it was subtle but useful—Noble’s Favor, making high-ranking figures see me as more charming and less offensive. Not charm ability, just... a better first impression. Which is also good, I don’t wanna get liked just because of my ’charm’. But...
I’ll need to test this on some insufferable noble soon.
But for now, the real prize was the [Crescent Mirror].
As I focused on it, a new window materialized:
"It does not reflect the face—it reveals what lies behind the mask."
Tier: Awakened (Support Relic)
Description: A curved, silver mirror shard framed in black glass, cool to the touch and weightless in hand. When activated, it casts no reflection... unless you’re prepared to see one.
- True Reflection (Active): Once per day, reveals the viewer’s true appearance—not only physical, but also emotional.
- Mirror Reversal: Once per week, reflect a single mental or illusion-based attack back to its caster.
Soulbound: "Bound to Amaniel von Luthaire. Reflects clearer the more he sees of others."
- Backlash: Viewing one’s reflection more than once per day causes temporary mental strain
- Only works when the target is looking at the mirror
Notes: "A relic not of war, but of understanding. The hardest truths are not those spoken aloud—but those revealed in silence."
My fingers twitched with the urge to summon it immediately.
This... this could be the key to finding Nolan’s brother.
If he’s hiding in plain sight, the mirror will expose him.
However, as intriguing as the mystery of Nolan’s brother was... I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to solve it.
After all, to the world, I was dead.
And I already had plans for this month—training, recovering, and figuring out how to wield my new powers without accidentally injuring myself in the process.
Still, the [Crescent Mirror] was undeniably valuable.
The limitations were annoying—once-per-day use, and the target had to look at it—but the effects more than made up for it.
"True Reflection" could expose hidden identities, uncover disguises, even reveal emotional truths.
And "Mirror Reversal"...
A free, automatic counter against mental or illusion attacks?
Though I did wonder—would the passive still work if the mirror was in my inventory, or did I need to carry it all the time?
’Another thing to test later,’ I mused, already feeling the mental checklist grow longer.
I really keep increasing my workload...
With a sigh, I closed the mirror’s window and turned to the final reward: