Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Just then, movement in the crowd caught Axel’s eye. A few people were waving like maniacs at him.

“Cassia, Drayke, Storm?” Axel’s chest warmed with relief at the sight of familiar faces. He signaled to security, letting them through.

Drayke bounded over, practically vibrating with energy. “Finally! Thought you were gonna ghost us. Hey, I’m calling dibs on your clothes.”

Axel blinked. His outfit was in tatters, barely holding together. “What for?”

“Champion Axel’s academy gear? Are you kidding? That’s worth at least a dozen RPGs.” Drayke spun around him like a buzzsaw while Cassia and Storm just shook their heads, smiling.

“Dinner later,” Cassia suggested, Storm nodding in agreement.

Before Axel could answer, Terrence slung an arm around his shoulder, with Sergio and Raymond close behind. “Game’s over, man. Let’s go eat. Who’re these guys—your fans? Snap a photo with them first, then we’ll head out.”

Cassia and the others froze. Had Axel already made other plans?

The aristocratic group’s easy confidence made the three feel like outsiders crashing a party.

Sensing it, Drayke scratched his neck and mumbled, “Axel, you go ahead. We don’t wanna get in the way.”

”Your friends? How could they be so...” Terrence hadn’t finished when Sergio smacked him with his folded fan. “If you can’t speak without sounding like an ass, shut up.”

Terrence grimaced, glaring.

Axel glanced between the two groups, then turned to Sergio. “You guys in a rush? I haven’t seen my friends in ages. I’d rather spend tonight with them. Tomorrow’s fine for us.”

Cassia and the others stiffened, their throats tight.

Terrence tried to cut in, but Sergio stopped him again. “Then let’s all go together.”

Axel hesitated, worried his old friends might feel out of place. “Cassia? What do you think—together, or together?”

The meaning was clear: their comfort mattered more than anything.

Drayke grinned, practically bouncing. “Hell yeah, together. More photos to sell!”

His shameless enthusiasm broke the tension, even making Terrence and the others chuckle.

“Fine,” Sergio said smoothly. “I’ll treat tonight. Let’s get a proper meal. Terrence—go find Yara and Quincy.”

After leaving the arena, they followed Sergio straight to the parking lot. In the VIP section, a row of luxury cars gleamed under the dim lights, each one with a family-assigned Awakened chauffeur waiting by the door.

Just as they were about to pull away, Vaughn and another man stepped out of the Olympic Sports Center and caught sight of them.

“You actually invited Axel to dinner? Do you have any idea how important that rock spinal cord is to me? And you just brush me off like I don’t matter?” Vaughn’s voice cracked into a low growl.

The middle-aged man beside him frowned at his son’s tone. “Vaughn. Watch yourself.”

Vaughn forced himself to take a few long breaths, but the resentment in his eyes didn’t fade. “Dad, I can’t live without that spinal cord…”

The man at his side was Vernon—Vaughn’s father and a Level 5 Intermediate Awakener of the Brighthelm family. Vernon narrowed his eyes, his voice deceptively calm. “The ones who got those two spinal cords don’t have backing. Relax. I’ll handle this properly.”

.......

The car ride lasted about half an hour, weaving through backstreets and narrow alleys until they finally stopped outside a small place called Rhine. The restaurant was quiet, understated, almost hidden. Inside, only a handful of customers lingered.

“Hey, Sergio—you made it.”

A middle-aged man in a brown tuxedo, three-legged hat perched rakishly on his head, greeted them with a smile, leaning on a polished walking stick.

“Mr. Pablo, thank you for having us,” Sergio said with respectful warmth before stepping aside.

“Come in, sit. I’ll grab the menu.” Pablo’s eyes flicked to Drayke and the others, briefly surprised, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he disappeared toward the kitchen.

“Doesn’t look much like a restaurant,” Axel murmured as they settled in. The soft amber lights gave the room a warm, old-world glow. Cabinets lined the walls, filled with antiques, instruments, and glass-encased relics that looked like they belonged in a museum.

“The owner doesn’t really look like a restaurant owner either,” Drayke muttered.

Sergio chuckled. “You’re not wrong. These are all Pablo’s personal treasures—original instruments, pre-Mutation calligraphy, even mutant beast specimens. He’s a collector at heart.”

Axel leaned back, eyes narrowing as he realized some of the instruments weren’t replicas at all—they were real.

“Mr. Pablo is a Peak Level 5 Awakener,” Sergio explained quietly. “But he’s never cared for cultivation. Collecting is what excites him. If you ever come across something rare—say, the corpse of a mutated beast—you can trade it here. He’ll make it worth your while.” Sergio paused, then smiled faintly. “And his greatest gift? Cooking. That’s his awakened talent. The first time I tried his food, it boosted my cultivation.”

By the time Sergio finished, Pablo was back with menus.

“I’ll have the cumin pork slices,” Drayke said.

Pablo only chuckled softly. “We don’t serve that.”

Drayke blinked, stunned. Something that basic, and they didn’t have it? He flipped through the menu again. Axel leaned in and quickly understood.

Irewolf Tail. Furious Brown Bear Paw. Black-Striped White-Feathered Chicken Claw.

The most absurd item was Black-Scale Python gallbladder.

“These dishes are all made with ingredients brought in by hunters outside the walls,” Pablo explained, ever the gracious host. “If you ever find some, sell them to me—I’ll pay fairly.”

Despite being a Peak Awakener, Pablo carried himself more like a refined butler than a warrior.

“Sir, bring us one of everything,” Sergio said smoothly, handing over his Origin Stone Card.

Yara and Quincy exchanged uneasy glances. They weren’t naïve—they knew these dishes would cost hundreds of stones per head.

“Don’t need to hold back,” Sergio continued. “Truth is, Terrence, Raymond, and I asked you here because we want to collaborate—breaking through to Level 5..”

He leaned forward slightly. “Our progress has been about the same. Except Axel’s. He’s been moving faster than all of us.”

Axel stiffened. Faster than them? His Force compression was the weakest in the group. How could Sergio say that?

Terrence frowned, puzzled. Axel’s faster than us?

Sergio’s gaze locked onto Axel. “You’re cultivating all three paths together, aren’t you?”

“All three?” Axel thought instantly of Clarissa’s mention of the triathlon. Could that be what Sergio meant?

“You mean body, Force, and mental strength? Isn’t that… normal?”

Kieran had drilled it into him at the start: body, spirit, and Force must be kept balanced. If one lagged, the other two would eventually choke at the bottleneck. That was why after absorbing the Life Crystal, Axel had trained in Body Forging and Meditation in equal measure.

The table fell into a stunned silence.

“That’s impossible,” Sergio muttered, almost to himself.

Even Yara and Quincy were staring at Axel now, their expressions caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.

“After reaching Level Four, we need to choose two paths.” Sergio explained. “For melee Awakeners, it’s usually Physical Strength and Force. For psychic or support types, it’s Spirit and Force. As long as your third stat stays above half of the maximum, you’re fine. You knew that, right?”

Everyone turned to Axel with the same puzzled look. When he let out a long sigh, the realization hit them. Of course—he was advancing so fast that nobody around him had even had time to explain this stuff. And since he’d never attended the War Academy, he didn’t have an instructor spoon-feeding him the basics.

Sergio softened. “But you’re not entirely wrong. Strengthening your Spirit will increase the power of your Awakened Skills. It’ll also sharpen your focus and speed up your thinking in a fight.”

“Then why don’t the rest of you focus on Spirit as well?” Axel asked.

Raymond, who had been quiet until now, let out a dry laugh. “Because it slows everything else down.”

Axel nodded slowly. “Fine. So what does any of this have to do with ‘cooperation’?”

The question hung in the air just as Pablo’s dishes arrived. A strange aroma wafted over them.