Aleister yawned as he stood out of bed. He stood in front of the mirror and unwrapped the bandages around his arm. It had been several days since he treated the wound and wanted to make sure it didn't hand him an undesirable outcome. The cut continued to heal nicely. He wiped it with some pure alcohol and tied a new bandage around it. He turned around and stared at the absolute mess he created.

Syn still hadn't come back. He almost missed her constant state of headache inducing work. Almost. He ignored the mess for another day. He would have cleaned his room by now, but couldn't identify most of the ingredients. And the scroll of alchemical fire she handed him was illegible. An even worse state than his room. Calling the words chicken scratch would be an insult to chickens. He put on some new clothes and walked over to Luo Yun's dojo.

Luo Yun was still nowhere to be seen. Neither was Myra. Kyoko was still with the Empress. Why were all of his friends gone at the same time? How annoying.

He shook his head and setup a wooden dummy. Luo Yun purchased a few of them, but left them all disassembled and still in the crates they arrived in. He grabbed his spear and went to work. He had long since become an expert with the spear fundamentals book. Each state transition and position became second nature to him. This, unfortunately, also led him to realize the downfalls of technique.

At this point, anyone else he fought would also have learned and practiced a special technique. The fundamentals, he knew, couldn't be applied in those situations. The author of the book themselves wrote how the reader needed to adapt them into their own learnings and experience. However, the fight organizers continued not schedule fights for him, making the gaining experience part more difficult than needed.

It was about time for him to send a challenge of his own. It was the sad reality of being in second place in a ranked ladder. He couldn't send out a challenge to anyone below him, and the person in first place was such an exception they created a new rule because of her. Once he became a Weaver, the organization would automatically promote him up.

The question now became, could he challenge a Rank Two Weaver? Well—no. Obviously not. He had no chance at winning, or even ending the match in a draw. It was an assured loss. That wasn't his problem. If he lost, whatever. What he focused on was how to survive longer than five minutes.

Short. That's what it sounded like. His walk over to the dojo was six times that. But in a fight, every second was the deciding factor. He could attack the dummy all he wanted, but to what end. The dummy couldn't fight back. Unless it was one of those enchanted ones.

Aleister shuffled through the packaging and crates for any additional information. Guess not. He would just have to ask Luo Yun.

Waiting, however, was another problem. He felt himself grow ever closer to becoming a Weaver. It could happen literally right now or not for another three months, for all he knew.

"Eugh!" Aleister groaned. "Why is everyone gone?" No one responded to his cry. Insanity began to take over his mind. At least, that's what it felt like. Fine. If he had no one to talk to too, he would find someone to talk to. He stormed out of the dojo and towards the marketplace.

Phisvaelte wasn't at her stall today either. That gave him the perfect excuse to head on over to her house.

He knocked on her door. No response.

"Who is it?" a muffled voice asked seconds later, after he knocked again.

Aleister recognized it as Elemmir and changed his voice before responding. "It is I."

The voice made a confused sound before asking, "I meant your name?"

"Yes, it is I."

"Is that your name?" the voice asked after a few more moments of silence.

Aleister took a brief pause and held back his laughter. "Yes, it is I. I spell it E-Y-I."

"Oh," he hesitated, and then continued, "Give me a second."

The door opened a minute later.

"Aleister?" Phisvaelte asked, surprised by his appearance.

"No, I'm his brother." The poker face he maintained was difficult.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "You just looked so similar."

"So I've been told."

She paused for a moment. Likely not sure how to continue. "I assume you're here on his behalf to collect his money? I will go bring it for you." She went back into her house, not closing the door.

He didn't even really care for the money at this point. So much so he completely forgot until now. Although, that was more so because he hadn't been crafting potions recently. Great, his skills have probably diminished to a much lesser point by now. He heard a faint conversation from inside the house and took one step past the door. A little eavesdropping never hurt anyone.

"...and he look's exactly like Aleister."

"He never mentioned a brother."

"He never spoke a whole lot about himself in the first place."

"Aleister?"

Hm? That last voice wasn't Elemmir nor Phisvaelte's, but it did sound familiar. It wasn't one he could place his finger on. He heard some footsteps and purposefully stepped away from the door, standing in a more casual position.

"It's not much," Phisvaelte said, taking a step outside, "but we sold out of potions a long time ago."

Aleister looked up. "I—will let him know." He grabbed the bag.

"So it is you," Nana said, peeking through the door.

Nana? Why was she here?