Chapter 22: The Vault of Anomalies
Draven walked through the quiet, dimly lit halls of the Vanguard Elite dormitory.
His knuckles were bruised, and his black compression shirt was stained with Aegon’s blood.
He was already thinking about his next move.
’The pieces were finally falling into place. Aegon had awakened the Crucible. I need to make sure that he wins the next tournant. Just awakening the power has given him a huge advantage but that alone won’t be enough. It’s like giving a toddler a power to a nuke. He needs to be refined and trained hard for my purpose.’
As he stepped into the entryway of the dorm, a sudden, sweet aroma hit his nose.
’Pancakes?!’
Draven paused. He smirked.
He slipped off his boots and quietly coated his feet in a thin layer of kinetic force, making his footsteps absolutely silent.
He sneaked up toward the kitchen to catch the little mouse who was cooking at this hour.
"Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm~" He could hear a lovely lady humming.
Standing by the stove, bathed in the warm yellow light of the range hood, was Estella.
She wore a pale blue cooking apron over her clothes and had her white hair tied up in a ssy bun.
She was intensely focused on a mixing bowl, aggressively whisking a thick batch of dough.
"Soone’s up early," Draven said smoothly, leaning against the doorfra.
"HAAH--!"
Estella gasped. Startled by the sudden voice, her hands jerked.
The heavy glass mixing bowl slipped from her flour-dusted fingers, tumbling toward the edge of the marble counter.
Estella squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable crash and the ss.
It never ca.
WHOOSH!
Draven casually raised his index finger.
He applied a precise, upward kinetic vector to the bowl, freezing it perfectly in mid-air just an inch above the floor.
With a gentle flick of his wrist, the bowl floated back up and settled softly onto the counter without spilling a single drop of batter.
Estella let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and turned to face him, her cheeks flushing a bright pink.
"G-good morning, Draven!" she stamred. "You ca back quite early."
"Yeah," Draven said, walking into the kitchen.
"Our new friend took quite a bit of beating from . He endured, for sure, but he also awakened his powers. He will prove to be strong."
Estella nodded, though she was clearly trying to hide the flour smudge on her cheek.
"So," Draven asked, eyeing the pan on the stove, "why are you cooking today?"
Estella looked down at her apron, fidgeting with the strings.
"Well, you always cook for both of us, so I wanted to try cooking for the first ti in a while."
Draven raised an eyebrow. "You could have asked to teach you. I know how to cook."
"Oh, really?" Estella countered, puffing her cheeks out slightly.
Draven didn’t say a word.
He just slowly turned his head, staring pointedly at the absolute disaster zone she had made of the kitchen.
There was flour on the cabinets, eggshells on the floor, and a suspicious scorch mark on the cutting board.
Estella followed his gaze and quickly stepped sideways to block his view of the ss.
"Ok, I may be a beginner, but I know what I am doing! Here are the pancakes I prepared."
She reached behind her and proudly presented a white plate stacked with slightly lopsided pancakes. 4
She had followed the videos online to the letter, even if the edges were a little too dark.
"Alright," Draven chuckled. "Let’s see what our Master Chef has made, then."
He grabbed a fork, cut a piece of the top pancake, and took a bite.
Estella watched him with wide, anxious eyes, her hands clasped tightly together.
Draven stopped chewing for a second. To his genuine surprise, they were not bad at all.
They were a little burnt on the edges, but she had gotten the proportions of the batter completely right. It was sweet, warm, and fluffy.
But as the taste settled, a sudden, unexpected ache pierced his chest.
He rembered his ti back on Earth, standing in a much smaller kitchen.
He rembered his mother’s warm laughter as she guided his hands, teaching him how to make pancakes and a dozen other dishes on a lazy Sunday morning.
It was a lifeti ago. A life he had lost to a desert war and a bullet to the lungs.
A faint, lancholic sadness flashed in his dark eyes. He missed her.
"Draven?" Estella asked softly, her smile fading as she noticed the shift in his expression. "Are they bad?"
Draven blinked, snapping out of the mory. He looked at Estella’s worried face and offered her a gentle, reassuring smile.
"No, they’re great," Draven said softly. He set the fork down and looked her in the eyes.
"But you don’t need to make these by watching videos online. I will teach you myself."
Estella’s violet eyes lit up like stars. "Really?!"
"Yes," Draven nodded. "But training cos first."
Estella practically bead. She held out her hand, extending her small pinky finger.
"Ok, pinky promise?!"
Draven looked at her tiny finger. He reached out and wrapped his large, calloused pinky around hers.
"Pinky promise," Draven swore.
---
After finishing the plate of pancakes, Draven retreated to his room. He took a long, hot shower, washing away the blood and the sweat, and sat cross-legged on his bed.
It was ti to gear up.
"System," Draven muttered. "Open the Vault of Anomalies."
A massive, glowing golden interface materialized in the air, projecting a holographic armory of rule-breaking items and skills.
Draven stared at his balance: [5,500 System Points].
He didn’t look at the flashy swords or the massive elental spells.
’I need skills that would help my current situation. What i need right now are skills that will increase my Combat power as well as keep away from the peering eyes of the Cult.’
He sighed.
’But being looked down on is not just my style. I will just show enough to hog good resources for myself. In a world that is on the Verge of Destruction, I cannot be a weak guy to be preyed upon.’
He navigated to the restricted skills and selected his first purchase.
[Skill: Blank Canvas (Passive/Active)] - 3,000 Points
[Description: A conceptual cloaking ability. Passively erases the Host’s true Level, Attributes, and Mana Capacity from all magical sensors and appraisal abilities, allowing the Host to project false stats. Actively forces a psychological blind spot on enemies, making them instinctively prioritize other targets.]
"Purchase," Draven confird. He felt a cool wave wash over him.
His terrifying mana pool was instantly masked, shrinking down to a perfectly believable, ordinary A-Rank level.
He turned to his remaining 2,500 points. He needed a weapon that didn’t look like a weapon.
[Vector Manipulation Upgrade: Spatial Rend] - 2,500 Points
[Description: The Host can now apply imnse physical vectors to the air molecules themselves, compressing them into invisible, razor-sharp blades of pressurized space. Capable of bypassing standard physical armor.]
"Purchase."
A sharp spike of knowledge flooded his brain, rewriting his understanding of kinetic physics.
He was now ard with the ultimate, untraceable assassination tool.
With his points spent, Draven glanced at the calendar on his digital Nexus-Band.
It had been exactly twenty-one days since he woke up tied to that bloody tal table in the Cult’s basent. Three weeks in this world.
[System Alert: Daily Sign-in Available!]
"Sign in," Draven commanded.
He was used to the daily rewards by now. Most days, it was so dumb shit, a minor stamina potion, a basic combat knife, or a tiny fraction of passive mana regen.
But Draven had noticed a pattern.
Every seven days, the System didn’t give him garbage.
It gave him sothing ga-changing.
[Ding! Weekly Sign-in Milestone Reached (Day 21)!]
[Reward: Leaf of the World Tree (Epic Consumable)]
[Description: A mythical leaf containing the raw, uncorrupted vitality of the World Tree. Its properties are absolute.]
Draven’s eyes widened slightly as a glowing, erald-green leaf materialized in his palm. It pulsed with a warm, incredible life force.
’This leaf would be quite useful at the end of the First Arc. Let’s keep it safe for now. It will be useful.’
He carefully stored the leaf in his spatial ring.
Draven leaned back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling.
The pattern was undeniable.
Day 7 had given him his passive mana regeneration.
Day 14 had given him his Tactical Radar.
Day 21 gave him the Leaf of the World Tree.
’If the weekly rewards are this good,’ Draven thought, a slow, anticipating smile forming on his lips, ’what the hell am I going to get when I hit the one-month mark?’
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