The True Ascension-Chapter 30: Beginning of the Ascension

The body of Aziz still hummed with the remnants of the ascension. The pure energy that had awakened inside him seemed to continue pulsating through his skin, as if it had merged with the world around him. His breathing was still heavy, but his eyes were calm.

He rose with elegance, balancing only on the tips of his toes, as if he were floating. Behind him, Astrid and Isis watched him in silence, proud. Without needing to exchange words, the three of them made their way to the chambers, where they put on more suitable clothing. Nothing luxurious, just something practical and worthy of someone about to present a new face to the world.

Shortly thereafter, Astrid together with Aziz and Isis stepped into the magical circle on the floor, activating the teleportation circuit that connected them directly to Stella’s Palace.

---

In the palace, Stella, seated in her reading room, immediately felt the arcane pulse. Her golden eyes slowly opened, a faint smile forming on her lips.

"Hm... finally."

She stood up and, with graceful steps, walked toward the reception chamber of the circle. When she arrived, the silvery light of the teleport faded, revealing the familiar figures. Astrid, elegant as always, Isis with her provocative air, and... Aziz.

She blinked, surprised for a brief second.

"So he came... five years have passed, and this is the first time I’ve seen him outside that place."

Even already expecting his evolution over time, Stella couldn’t help but admire the change.

"He’s grown... and very well. What an impressive young man."

But she kept those thoughts to herself.

"Welcome." She bowed her head slightly in a gesture of courtesy and affection. "You finally left your hideout, Aziz. I thought you would become a legend before reappearing."

Aziz smiled with mild embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck.

"Hehe... let’s say I thought now was the right time."

Noticing another detail, she said:

"I knew you would manage to form your mana core. It was written in your eyes since day one."

Stella’s sincere words touched something inside Aziz. He looked at her with genuine gratitude and smiled back.

"Thank you for believing in me, Lady Stella."

His silver eyes scanned the room, searching for absent faces.

"And Sofia? Sylvia isn’t here either?"

Stella let out an elegant little laugh, hiding it with her hand.

"Sofia is at the restaurant, though she won’t admit it. She went to meet Zia, of course. Sylvia went with them... as a precaution. You know how it is, if those two decide to compete in everything as always..."

Astrid, Isis, and Aziz himself laughed.

"They fight, but never part ways. Like twin sisters in spirit." — said Astrid, amused.

Stella nodded lightly and picked up her magical communicator.

"Sylvia. Astrid and Isis are here. And Aziz too."

The response came quick and overly enthusiastic.

"Understood! We’re on our way!"

Stella raised an eyebrow, surprised by Sylvia’s enthusiasm.

’What does Aziz have that’s affecting even the impassive Sylvia?’ she thought, surprised by Sylvia’s excitement, who had always been so serene.

Before she could hang up, she heard Sofia and Zia’s excited voices on the other end of the communication.

"HE FINALLY LEFT?!"

Stella chuckled softly and shook her head.

Seconds later, a grey, opaque light glowed in the entrance chamber. Amid the glow, Sylvia, Zia, and Sofia appeared.

Before any words were spoken, two blurs moved.

One red. The other black.

Aziz opened his arms instinctively, and the two young women threw themselves at him, burying their faces in his chest. One on each side. And, at the same time, he felt something warm and soft on both their cheeks.

A kiss.

In the middle of the hug, he felt a piercing look at the back of his neck. He didn’t need to turn around.

’Mother...’

He feigned a cough, trying to ignore Astrid’s possessive gaze. Sofia and Zia still held his arms as they pulled back slightly.

He observed them for a moment. He had changed, but so had they.

Sofia was the image of contained grace.

At fifteen years old, her body had reached the fullness of feminine bloom — not with extravagance, but with balance. There was something about her that attracted, not by excess, but by the precision of each detail. As if every centimeter had been molded to touch the eyes with softness and the heart with a dangerous calm.

Her hair— long, silky, and deep fiery red like fire at rest— cascaded down her back, flowing naturally with each step. It wasn’t a common red; it was that warm, intense, refined shade that seemed to ignite under the light. When she turned, the strands drew curves in the air, like a living extension of her presence— strong, serene, hypnotic. A direct reflection of her mother, but with her own glow.

Her skin, clear as porcelain, took on pink hues at the slightest touch. It was an involuntary, almost intimate reaction, as if her skin revealed what her eyes tried to hide. Even that subtle blush seemed carefully measured, like everything about her— intensity masked under absolute control.

Her eyes, golden like amber in the sun, had a depth that held you. To look into them was like trying to decipher the silence of an ancient forest: there was calm, yes, but also the danger of getting lost. Sofia rarely displayed her emotions openly, but when she did, there was weight — and beauty — in every nuance.

Her body, now fully developed, exhibited harmonious proportions. Her breasts, firm and discreet, complemented her posture with elegance. Her hips, gently rounded, and her upright posture suggested a silent, mature, captivating femininity — like a promise made in a low voice yet impossible to ignore.

And then, the features that made her unique.

The two fox ears atop her head moved with enchanting naturalness. Furry, alert, almost sensitive to the air. They responded to emotions Sofia didn’t let slip in words— quivering slightly with contained irritation, lowering with embarrassment, or standing tall subtly when she heard a voice important to her.

And behind her, the two tails— long, soft, graceful— seemed to dance with the wind. Never still. Sometimes they undulated gently, other times they vibrated with contained joy. It was impossible not to look at them. Not because they were unusual... but because they were alive. As if they also felt, thought, and held secrets the rest of the body dared not reveal.

Sofia was beautiful.

But more than that— she was inevitable.

And perhaps, behind all her calm, she understood that better than anyone.

And Zia...

Zia had blossomed.

Now, at sixteen years old, she displayed the fullness of her form with a confidence that needed no announcement. She was as tall as Sofia, but the comparison stopped there. Where Sofia was contained and precise, Zia was pure intensity — alive in every curve, in every gesture, in every breath.

Her breasts, fuller than her rival’s, drew firmness under the snug uniform, well-proportioned, natural, with the exact balance of volume and delicacy. They weren’t a beauty that shouted— but they whispered with undeniable strength. Her hips, rounded and well-defined, completed a body sculpted not just by time, but by her own irreverent nature.

But it was in the details that Zia enchanted most.

Her hair— curly, dense, black as polished ebony— hung like a living cascade over her shoulders and back, shaping her silhouette with wild naturalness. Each curl seemed to have its own personality, rebellious yet obedient to her slightest movement. Sometimes, as she walked, the strands swayed softly, as if keeping pace with her internal rhythm— dissonant, electric, free.

And then her eyes.

A brilliant violet, rare and unforgettable. It was not a static color, but pulsating— as if her irises carried their own light, crystalline, entrancing. Looking into them was like falling into a sweet abyss, where desire and challenge blended equally. Zia did not avert her gaze. She stared straight on, as if knowing exactly the effect she caused.

Her charm did not come only from her body. It came from the confidence with which she occupied it. From the silence loaded with promises. From the smile tilted at the corner of her lips. From the feeling that she could turn someone’s world upside-down— if she wished.

And perhaps, just perhaps, she already had turned Aziz’s.

---

Sofia was the first to speak:

"You finally left home! We need to go out around town together, right now!"

Zia squeezed his arm tighter.

"I’m no longer working full-time at the restaurant... Aziz, you and I can go out together, just the two of us."

Sofia frowned, annoyed.

"You’re trying to steal my moment with him, you stuck-up!"

But before the argument could escalate, Sylvia intervened with a tired sigh.

"Girls... it’s the first time he’s left home in five years. Let’s welcome him with dignity, please."

The two huffed but reluctantly backed off. They still looked at each other as if dueling.

Aziz laughed, looking gratefully at Sylvia.

She smiled back... and blushed. She quickly turned away and changed the subject.

"So... what do you intend to do now that your training is over?"

Aziz fell silent for a moment. The atmosphere grew tense. Everyone awaited his answer.

He raised his eyes, determined.

"Now that I’ve trained enough for the time being... it’s time for real combat. I’ll register with the Adventurers’ Guild."

He smiled.

"I want to see this world."

After he said that, a brief silence spread like an invisible spell. Aziz’s words, calmly spoken, carried the weight of a destiny written by his own hand.

Astrid and Isis shared a knowing look. Both understood in their hearts that this moment would come — and yet, it still hurt. They sighed, not in frustration, but in acceptance mixed with a hint of sadness.

Astrid, arms crossed over her chest, nodded softly, but her eyes were more misty than usual, as if reflecting memories of the past five years.

"I knew this day would come" — she murmured, her voice so low only Isis beside her heard.

"But that doesn’t make it hurt any less" — replied Isis, holding Astrid’s arm for a moment. "Our little one... is now ready for the world."

Aziz diverted his gaze for a moment, as if he could feel the wave of emotions coming from the two women who had shaped who he was.

Sofia and Zia, on the other hand, showed no concealment of surprise. Both seemed completely caught off guard. They expected everything... except this.

"You... want to become an adventurer?" — asked Zia, her tone lower than normal, as if testing the reality of that statement.

Sofia looked at him with wide, bright eyes, her tails swaying with visible restlessness.

"But why?" — she asked, almost without thinking. "You don’t need that! You have everything here. You can train with your mother, with Isis, with my mother too... with all of us. You don’t have to risk yourself out there!"

Aziz looked at them both affectionately. There was truth in their eyes— concern, fear, but also admiration. The intensity of that moment lingered in the air.

"I understand your concern about this decision" — he began, his voice firm but without arrogance. "I know what it means to leave this place. I know what I’m leaving behind. I am not naive enough to believe the outside world is fair or that it will give me easy chances."

He took a step forward, his eyes sweeping across every face present.

"But something inside me... calls for it. For growth. For overcoming. If I said I understood every danger, that I could predict every obstacle, I would be lying. But even so... I need to go."

His tone grew heavier, more intense.

"Many in my position might choose comfort. They would live in the shadow of powerful people, protected by walls, shields, and blood ties. But I can’t. I won’t. Because if one day the enemy comes— and they could come from anywhere — and they have a force beyond yours, and you’re in their path..."

He clenched his fists, feeling his throat tighten.

"If one day I lose you because I chose not to be prepared... because I settled... I would never forgive myself. Never."

His words came with an intensity found only in truth. There was no grandiloquence there. It was just a boy — or rather, a young man — trying to protect all he loved.

Astrid smiled, a smile hiding tears.

"You’ve grown" — she said at last. "You’re not my boy anymore... but you’re still my son."

Isis sighed dramatically and moved closer to Aziz, running her finger down his chin.

"That was pretty sexy coming from you, you know? That thing about wanting to protect us, save us..."

"Isis" — Astrid murmured.

"What? I’m just speaking the truth!" — she replied, winking at Aziz, who scratched his neck slightly embarrassed.

Zia and Sofia still seemed to be processing the decision. Sofia’s golden eyes shone with a mixture of concern and quiet pride. Zia’s violet eyes stared at Aziz with renewed intensity.

"So... you’re really going?" — Sofia asked, her voice a bit quieter. "Are you leaving?"

"Not now" — replied Aziz, softening his tone. "Before leaving, I want to spend time with all of you. I want to create memories. And I want to register with the guild, train outside, do small missions and, little by little, grow in this new world. It won’t be a goodbye. It will be a new beginning."

Zia exhaled the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Sofia tried not to smile but failed.

Stella, who had been watching everything with a serene expression, stepped forward and placed one of her hands on Aziz’s shoulder.

"When you go... don’t go alone. Adventurers can be strong alone, but they are invincible in a group. And you have around you people who love you more than anything."

"I know" — he replied with a sincere smile.

Sylvia, who had remained silent through most of the conversation, also stepped forward. Her face was serious, but her eyes revealed emotion.

"If you decide to follow this path... we will go with you to the Adventurers’ Guild, at least let us make sure everything goes well on the first step of your journey."

Aziz nodded slightly in agreement, feeling a wave of gratitude for the woman who had always been so firm and dependable.

For a moment, everyone fell silent again. But now it was a silence full of acceptance, of transition. The world had changed.

He had changed.

His journey was no longer just about power. It was about purpose.

And this was the beginning of the true ascension.

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