Power of Runes Chapter 61 61: Wheel of Destiny

Three weeks ago

After Ash left Iron Hold City, the world kept turning—unaware of the tremors that had quietly begun to ripple through the fabric of fate itself. Sowhere far removed from reality, tucked between the folds of space, a hidden dinsion bathed in soft azure light drifted in tiless stillness.

On the edge of a tranquil hill, where the clouds filtered the sunlight into a dreamy haze, an old man sat with a fishing rod in hand. The pond below shimred gently with the occasional ripple, as if the world itself breathed slow and steady around him.

Behind him stood a young girl, barely fourteen. Her arms were crossed, her brows furrowed. She stared at the old man's unmoving back, frustration lacing her voice.

"Hey, old man. Soone's been using your na. Why aren't you doing anything about it?"

The question floated in the air for a mont before he responded, his voice low and composed.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because," she said, the curiosity in her tone giving away her youth, "you always told you'd crush anyone who dared to misuse your na. So why now… are you just letting it slide?"

She had grown up beside him, listening to his tales of ancient battles and quiet sacrifices. He had saved the world countless tis—or so he claid—and his power was so vast it made her dizzy to even try to imagine it. He never chased after fa or reward. All he had ever wanted was peace.

And yet now, soone had stepped into the world bearing his title, and he was doing nothing.

The old man's eyes remained closed, "Because… I don't know who it was."

The words hit her like a slap, "You what?" Her voice cracked.

For a mont, the stillness felt heavy. She couldn't believe it. The man who had raised her—the one said to possess the highest mastery of fate—was powerless to identify an imposter?

That couldn't be right.

She knew who he was—what he was. The Seer of Fate. The one who read the world like a book, who had seen its birth and its possible ends. He wasn't just soone. He was the one who knew. And yet now, he didn't?

"You're lying," she said quietly, almost to herself.

But he only smiled faintly, eyes still closed.

She rembered. How the books he gave her weren't in any library on Akumia. How he spoke of events that hadn't happened yet. How, with a glance, he could pull threads of destiny like they were strings on a loom.

So how could soone use his na and vanish?

He opened his eyes then, slowly. They weren't eyes anymore—at least, not in the human sense. What stared ahead was a golden wheel, slowly spinning where his pupils should have been. It glowed faintly, as if ti itself bent around them.

He looked up at the sky. His gaze cut through the clouds and pierced sothing far beyond the horizon.

He watched as invisible threads unraveled and reford above the clouds—delicate strings of fate twisting and turning, replacing the old with the new. Far above, the wheels of destiny spun without pause.

Who would've thought I'd live to see a day like this…

The Fates were shifting. Destiny was being rewritten. Unraveled and rewoven by unknown hands.

There is hope now… even if it's slim.

He had never seen anything like this before. Not in all the years he'd watched the world turn.

"I tried to find them," he continued, "But sothing… or soone blocked my vision. It wasn't just a veil. It was like the world itself refused to reveal their presence."

He shook his head gently, lost in thoughts only he could understand. "If I had been a little faster… perhaps I would have seen their face. But I wasn't."

Alia, the girl, bit her lip. Her heart pounded with unease, "But… I thought no one could hide from you. Isn't that what you always said?"

He fell silent, eyes still locked on the sky, as if searching for answers he knew wouldn't co.

The old man exhaled slowly, eyes returning to her.

"Because the world doesn't know my real na."

She blinked. "What?"

He smiled again, more to himself. "I can find anyone whose na and face I know, but finding soone unknown without na or face would be hard, and unless soone speaks my na... I can't track them."

"But..."

"I found out late. Soone used my alias, not my na, and by the ti the rumors reached , I couldn't see who it was. My vision was blocked. Not by fate itself, but sothing else. Sothing... unknown."

He looked away.

Maybe that's what fate wanted. Maybe I wasn't ant to know... not yet.

He'd missed his chance.

But it wasn't a complete loss.

"But I did manage to learn two things," he said at last. "One—this person is responsible for the shift in fate. They're changing destinies, altering lives in ways they might not even understand. Even smallest actions and subtle gestures made by them may seem ordinary… but the consequences are rippling across the world."

Alia's eyes widened. "Isn't that a good thing? You said fate was twisted and dark. Isn't change what the world needs?"

The old man didn't reply right away. In his mind, thoughts echoed like the tolling of a distant bell.

Not all changes are good, he thought. That person treats fate like a ga. Their sorrow could destroy everything. Their kindness could save it. It all depends on the path they choose.

"Hey," Alia interrupted his thoughts. "You said you found out two things. What's the second?"

He looked toward her with a soft smile. "I saw the place where the thread converged—the epicenter of the shift."

She leaned in. "Where?"

"Starlight Academy, Soone there is responsible for the change."

Alia's eyes lit up like stars. That na—Starlight Academy—was one she had only dread of. A place where talent and fate collided. A place she had always wanted to go.

"So," the old man said with a soft chuckle, "I've decided to send you there. I know you've always wanted to attend. I never planned to let you go, but stopping you now would be selfish. Go enjoy the life you've always dread of. And while you're there… try to find that person."

"Yes! Thank you, old man!" she shouted, jumping with joy. "I promise I'll find them!"

As she ran off, her laughter echoing in the distance, the old man smiled faintly.

There was a reason he had adopted her. Not just because of her unnatural affinity for fate… but the simple warmth she brought into a life that had grown far too cold.

My ti is ending, he thought. But even I can't see what lies beyond anymore. The wheels of destiny are spinning—and this ti, I'm not the one turning them.

***

Present Ti

I should focus on Runic Magic right now. Sword Art can wait a little…

Ash thought as he sat quietly in the back of the classroom. All around him, students chatted with their friends and classmates, laughter and conversation filling the space with energy.

Even Ray had returned to class after three whole weeks—but still, Ash sat alone in the back.

In the entire month since he'd joined the academy, not a single person had beco his friend. No one ever tried to talk to him, and since he wasn't particularly good at conversations either, he never made the effort to approach anyone himself.

And yet, the class always talked about him.

Because no matter how obscure the question the teacher asked, no matter how deep within the book the answer hid—Ash always answered it. His mory never failed him.

In sparring class, too, he was improving rapidly. But no one ever noticed the effort he put in to grow that quickly. They only saw the results.

Even now, he was wearing his training suit—silently channeling mana into it as he went about his day, moving like normal while bearing the constant burden of a hundred kilograms pressing down on him.

The suit was so thin it disappeared beneath his uniform, completely invisible unless soone knew exactly what to look for.

He trained relentlessly—every mont he wasn't sleeping or bathing, he was building strength in silence. Even during sparring sessions, he wore the suit, which helped him mask his true capabilities.

No one suspected the extent of his power, only seeing what he allowed them to see.

And yet, the thing people whispered about the most… was the change in his appearance.

His classic side-parted silvery white hair frad a face that had grown sharper, more defined. His once malnourished body had transford into a lean, athletic fra—fit, composed, and silently disciplined. His cold gaze and expressionless face, paired with the quiet precision in the way he moved, gave off an aura that was hard to ignore.

No one ever said it out loud, but the shift in the girls' gazes spoke volus. Once filled with contempt or mockery, now their eyes held awe, curiosity… even affection, soft and childish in its uncertainty

Right now, Ash was thinking about what to focus on next—his magic or his swordsmanship.

After a mont of silent deliberation, he chose magic.

I know a little about swords from my previous life, he reasoned, but even though I've learned two or three spells, I barely know anything about magic itself. And what I want… isn't ordinary magic. I want to create my own branch of magic. But before I can do that, I need knowledge. A lot of it. I need to understand how magic truly works, especially the underrated runic magic.

He knew he couldn't talk to any of the instructors and ask for advice. They'd laugh at him, dismiss it as childish fantasy. After all, who would believe a twelve-year-old, barely a beginner, could create his own branch of magic.

I'll need to skip so classes and focus on reading everything I can find on Runic Magic and the other branches of magic in the library…

That was one thing the academy did right—any student could access any book in the library, no matter how advanced the spell, how rare the art, or how complex the theory. Nothing was restricted. If you had the curiosity and the determination, you could learn it.

It was a rule established to ensure that no hunger for knowledge was ever suppressed.

Once I understand enough… maybe then, I can…

His thoughts were cut short as the classroom door opened.

Elva stepped in, graceful as always, drawing the attention of every student. But this ti, she wasn't alone.

Behind her walked a girl who looked to be around their age, perhaps a bit older. She followed Elva with light steps, her eyes flicking around the room, filled with a curious spark.

There was a hint of mischief in her gaze as she examined each face, as if trying to find sothing—or soone—in particular.

***