SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES-Chapter 189: Shameless Lynnor

"Don’t you think that was...a bit too harsh?"

The moment Aramith entered the realm, Mai was waiting for him and threw the question at him.

Aramith sat down, looking off in the distance as he thought.

"It’s best for them if I cut ties."

A sudden bark reminded him of someone he’d almost forgotten. He didn’t turn around as it jumped on him from behind.

The little puppy had grown about five times its size since he’d last seen it.

Aramith didn’t flinch as it licked his hair into a mess, excitedly pressing its paws all over him.

Mai shook her head, ignoring the wolf.

"I still believe that was unnecessary. You could have just gone with the original plan and pretended not to know them."

"That would only delay it. They’ll be waiting for me to finallyremember them. THey would be involved in what I’m doing and planning."

"So that’s what you’re calling mercy now?"

"I’m being realistic," he said quietly.

" Having to see Lis like that was unpleasant, but I’m left with no choice."

Mai floated closer to him. "What if this backfires and they try to find out why you chose this path?"

"Kesha won’t allow it," he answered quickly. "That’s the kind of person she is. She’ll keep Lia out of danger."

She settled beside him, sitting so close that their shoulders brushed.

The flames of the realm were less aggressive now, slowing in motion and dulling as if responding to his coldness.

"I exist within you, so you don’t have to explain every emotion. I understand you," she said, softening her tone

At his command, the wolves emerged, lowering themselves in silent submission.

"What’s my level?" He asked Mai

She observed him for a moment, then said, "Your power should be comparable to someone at the Dark Gate."

"And what of them?" He pointed to the wolves.

"Two of them have the strength of someone at Platinum, and the rest are at Silver or Gold Gate, first step."

He nodded and dismissed the wolves, then turned to Mai.

She understood his request.

"Come on, let’s go," she sighed, then pried the puppy off of Aramith before finally moving away. "He needs some time alone," she whispered to it.

Aramith calmed his breath, sitting still as he channeled the Youm within him.

Aramith did not notice when time began to slip.

Within the realm, he’d started to fuse with the realm, finally progressing with his connection with himself.

The flames over a 500-meter radius synced with his control of the Youm.

They rose and fell in slow currents, responding to the rhythm of his cultivation.

The Youm coursed through him steadily now, and though the amount was a bit too much, he managed to still it till it was no longer a raging ocean, but a calm stream.

Outside the realm, the world progressed.

A day passed.

Then another.

As the contest had ended, wagers were settled, and rumors spread and warped.

Preparations were made as some were made to leave immediately. Others were allowed to stay three more days based on their position, meanwhile...

Forsaken Peak was granted seven days—more than any other academy—which stirred unrest.

They had their complaints, but with nothing to prove, they could only remain mute.

By the time Aramith finally opened his eyes, a full week had gone by.

The realm receded within him, hiding away and waiting for his next return.

He exhaled once and stood.

Mozrael was already waiting for him.

She was already dressed for travel. When she saw him stand up, she straightened in relief.

"You’re awake," she said softly.

Aramith nodded. "How long?"

"A week."

He absorbed that without comment.

She hesitated, then added, "Everything’s ready."

Only then did he notice the envelope she held—thick parchment, sealed, and unbroken. This was the reward for Forsaken Peak’s victory.

"We won’t open it," Aramith said.

Mozrael blinked, then nodded. "I thought so."

"We’ll hand it to Rector Ilthane ourselves."

He didn’t make this decision out of respect alone, but for safety. If the reward was something that could be claimed, it could breed jealousy and danger.

She didn’t say anything more and just quietly put it away.

Yumaris was quiet when they stepped outside.

It wasn’t just empty, but cleared of everything that had been placed for the competition.

Carriages waited as they approached the gates.

And when they arrived, the rest of Forsaken Peak just avoided them.

Eyes followed them briefly, then dropped. Conversations died mid-sentence as they pretended very hard not to see them.

Fear sat heavier than the awe they’d felt.

Forsaken Peak’s group was divided between five carriages.

Aramith entered one with Mozrael, Sylvia, and Lynnor.

The moment the door shut, the space felt...smaller.

For a while, no one spoke.

The carriage rolled forward, wheels humming softly against stone.

Mozrael sat stiffly beside Aramith, hands folded too neatly in her lap.

And though there was a lot of space beside Aramith, Sylvia decided to sit opposite them with Lynnor, composed as her gaze drifted out the window.

Then Lynnor sighed loudly.

"Well," she said, stretching her arms. "That was disappointingly easy."

Sylvia glanced at her. "You say that like you weren’t drunk for half of it."

"I fight better drunk," Lynnor replied proudly. "Besides, with the way everyone hyped it up, I was expecting at least one near-death experience."

You didn’t even have to fight! Sylvia ignored her comment.

Mozrael shifted. "It...did feel shorter than I expected."

"Right?" Lynnor snapped her fingers. "All that tension, all that buildup, and..."

Aramith said nothing.

Sylvia’s gaze softened slightly. "I wonder what they’ll say when we return."

Lynnor grinned. "I’m looking forward to it. The stares, the whispers—ah, the envy."

She leaned back, folding her arms behind her head.

Then silence crept back in.

The carriage rocked gently. Wind brushed past the windows.

And that’s when Lynnor spoke again, casually and loudly.

"Must be strange," she said, "being trapped in such a small space with two cute, rapidly-developing girls...and one very mature woman."

Mozrael’s brain stopped functioning. She suspected Lynnor would make this journey unbearable, but this was sooner than she expected.

Sylvia’s posture stiffened as if she’d been struck by a curse and immediately chose the window as her new religion.

From the nearest carriage, someone choked, suddenly regretting their urge to eavesdrop.

Another voice laughedas something clattered.

Mozrael’s face went red so fast it felt like heat attribute backlash.

"L-Lynnor!" she started, then failed to find any sentence that didn’t make it worse.

Aramith remained perfectly still. Ignore her.

Lynnor leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I mean, really. All this tension? All this silence? I’m impressed by your self-control, Aramith."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Sylvia shut her eyes.

Mozrael begged silently for the carriage to arrive.

"Oh?" Lynnor continued. "What about you two?" She pointed lazily. "Ever wonder what goes through his head when he’s this close? He’s a guy after all."

Mozrael made a small, strangled sound.

Sylvia opened her mouth, closed it, and stared harder outside. She’ll twist whatever I say and use it against me.

Aramith stared at absolutely nothing, trying to think of something important.

Lynnor laughed, but no.

Lynnor wasn’t done.

Her gaze drifted slowly between Sylvia and Mozrael.

Sylvia noticed first.

"Why are you looking at us like that?" she asked carefully.

Lynnor hummed, tilting her head. "Just observing."

Mozrael stiffened immediately. "Observing what?"

Lynnor leaned forward, squinting as if appraising rare artifacts. Her eyes flicked twice, then she straightened.

"Oh." She snapped her fingers. "I see it now."

Sylvia’s patience thinned. "See what, exactly?"

Lynnor turned shamelessly and pointed at Aramith.

"So," she said loudly, "be honest. Which one do you think is bigger?"

The carriage went dead silent.

Mozrael felt her soul leave her body.

Sylvia’s face went blank. She couldn’t understand this woman at all.

From the neighboring carriage, someone inhaled sharply, then choked again as thoughts run wild.

Aramith did not blink or turn.

Ignoring Lynnor was always the best thing to do when she was out of control.

Internally, he made a vow never to travel with Lynnor again.

Lynnor clicked her tongue. "Coward."

She leaned back, folded her arms, then nodded decisively."Well. I’ll judge."

Both girls froze as she stared intently at their chests without a shred of shame.

Lynnor pointed lazily. "Mozrael."

Mozrael’s brain short-circuited. "What is wrong with you?"

"By a noticeable margin," Lynnor added, nodding seriously as she used her fingers to measure their size."The difference isn’t that huge, but it’s clear you’re the winner."

Sylvia tried to keep her cool. She didn’t even understand why she was getting flustered over this. She’s just stating facts.

Mozrael’s face burned brighter. "Why are you measuring like that?"

"Experience," Lynnor replied proudly, then she suddenly smirked. "Or you wanted me to use a more hands-on approach?"

Aramith stared at the back of his eyelids, not even noticing when he’d closed them.

The rest of the journey was quiet.

"We’ve arrived," Lynnor said as the carriage slowed.

Mozrael had never stood up so fast in her life.

Aramith stepped out without looking back.

The party was over.