The storm of news outside seemed to have unleashed something deeper, as if the very sky were responding to the events with restrained fury. The first thunderstorm Ethan had witnessed in this world appeared, and it was no ordinary one.
Standing by the window of his office, Ethan watched the horizon with a glass of Dragon's Breath in hand. He wore a thick white robe, sewn by himself to withstand the cold of the laboratory, and his golden glasses reflected the flickering light of the oil lamps that illuminated the place. His hair, tied back in a low ponytail, gave him a mystical air, as if he belonged to another world.
Outside, the sky roared with terrifying power. Dense, dark clouds swirled in monstrous spirals, forming vortices as if the very heavens were tearing apart. Lightning burst in every direction, tracing incandescent lines across the sky, like veins of pure energy. Some struck down with fury, impacting distant mountains and vanishing among the trees like divine spears.
The thunder was deafening. The claps were not simple bursts; they were sonic blows that made the walls tremble, rumbled through the building's core, and faded only to give way to a new roar, more violent than the last. It was as if the entire atmosphere were being crushed by invisible forces.
And yet, something felt off.
Ethan had felt a slight shiver at first, an instinctive warning of danger. But soon he noticed the oddity: the air at ground level was calm compared to the violence above. Yes, there were gusts, leaves dancing like blades, and branches flying side to side, as if an invisible hurricane were tearing through the treetops… but the ground remained serene, unmoving. It didn't shake. It didn't flood. It didn't collapse. As if the storm's power dissolved before touching the earth.
According to Zhao Ren and the others, these kinds of storms happened once every ten years. Rare, magnificent, terrifying. But apparently harmless. The phenomenon was documented by cultivators and mortal elders, though no one had explained its cause.
Ethan watched with sharp eyes, analyzing every pattern, every spark of energy. It was the kind of moment that inspired him: a natural puzzle, an anomaly worth studying. And yet, it was also beautiful.
He took another sip of the Dragon's Breath, letting the warmth mix with the rumble of the storm. In his mind, a question echoed like thunder:
"What kind of world allows such fury without consequences?"
It wasn't a simple weather display. It was a mystery—one waiting to be unraveled.
[Analysis complete]
[High concentration of spiritual energy particles detected, irregular frequency energy waves are passing through the atmosphere at high speed]
[Due to scan interference, conclusive data cannot be obtained.]
[Installation of a specialized structure is recommended to improve data capture and reduce interference. Only with additional equipment will it be possible to determine the exact nature of the phenomenon.]
Ethan took another sip of the liquor, fully expecting that answer. Aside from the distance, who knows what is happening in the atmosphere and what anomalies might be occurring in this world. After the last anomaly with the D-Serum, he knew that the lack of information about this world had created a void in AION's database, which could lead to incorrect judgments or abnormal interpretations of situations or experiments. Uncertainty was becoming a constant.
Turning around and returning to his desk, he pulled out a box and examined it carefully. Inside, lay an object he had been waiting to see: a Mauser C96.
With Yuan Kai's help, the underground workshop could function perfectly, even without his constant presence. Yuan Kai, an experienced blacksmith, only needed the blueprints, and with the right machinery and the specialized equipment of the underground workshop, he was more than capable of carrying out any project without issue.
Ethan took the Mauser C96 carefully and examined it in silence. The pistol, lightweight and easy to conceal, was designed to be effective at close range, ideal for self-defense. Its compact size and robust structure made it perfect for situations where discretion and speed were essential. He placed it on the table, then turned his gaze toward a document he had just read.
The news about the situation, received a few days ago with the publication of the imperial edict. For many, this represented an imminent threat, but for Ethan, it was an opportunity. The dispersion of forces, the bandits, and the instability. This was the perfect time to initiate the next stage of his plan.
After all, if he wanted to grow, relying on only 200 people in Astralis wouldn't be enough. He needed more, he needed variety. Soldiers, artisans, farmers, growers—every kind of skill was essential. His vision wasn't just to create a military force. For that, he needed people.
Ethan gave one last look toward the window, observing the storm brewing in the skies. With his mind focused on his next move, he left his office.
Under the relentless rain, near the forest that bordered a small village of barely five hundred people, a group of shadows moved silently. Cloaked in soaked gray robes, their figures blended with the darkness and mud. However, every lightning strike that tore through the sky revealed flashes of steel—dark plates of polished armor and the unmistakable outlines of Mauser rifles peeking from underneath.
They marched with precision, not a word spoken, each step firm and synchronized. Upon reaching the outskirts of the village, the squad dispersed with discipline, taking strategic positions among the trees and shrubs, their silhouettes nearly invisible beneath the persistent rain. The squad captain, Ye Han—the first Vesper ever recruited—stepped forward and pulled a cylindrical object from his belt. He unfolded it carefully and brought it to his eye.
It was a spyglass, a refined piece crafted by Ethan. He had remembered their interaction in that goldsmith's shop, so after a meticulous process of polishing and adjustment, he turned the lenses into instruments of precision.
With only the lightning illuminating the sky like blades of light, Ye Han scanned the darkness of the village. Every flicker from the heavens briefly revealed rooftops, empty streets, and the occasional fleeting movement in the shadows. The air smelled of wet earth and tension. The mission was about to begin.
For two days now, Ye Han and his squad had been discreetly tracking a group of mercenaries moving in from the east. The order had been clear and direct, issued personally by Ethan: observe and confirm whether they were truly mere mercenaries… or something else. The reports gathered by Zhao Ren and Shen Bao pointed to a possibility—they might be demonic cultivators in disguise.
Ethan had given this order not out of a sense of justice or a moral purity he didn't possess. He was no benevolent savior, no compassionate soul. His goal was to build a safe place for mortals, yes—but that purpose didn't stem from kindness or altruism… it came from self-preservation.
The mission's objective was simple: reputation.
Ethan had designed it as a first step in his expansion strategy. If the rumors were true and this group turned out to be a real threat, then his intervention would not only save innocent lives—it would also place Astralis on the map.
Reputation was a currency as valuable as gold, and more effective than any banner. If the Vespers succeeded in eliminating a group of demonic cultivators, the message would be clear: there's a new power in the region—one that protects its own.
With a rising reputation, more people would seek refuge: artisans, farmers, civilians… and of course, opportunists too. But it was a risk Ethan was willing to take. At the end of the day, you can't build a future on empty ideals, you need people. And to attract them, you had to show something no promise could replace: strength.
Because without strength, there is no trust. And without trust, there is no foundation upon which to build a new era. Ethan knew that better than anyone. And this was only the opening move.