Canel's POV
The entire situation left me momentarily speechless.
Pirate attacks were always a remote possibility—rare, calculated, and rarely aimed directly at the military. And with a General on board? That made it almost unthinkable. Whatever's going on within the Federation… it's escalating. I would've sooner blamed cosmic beasts or rogue Zerg for this kind of bold assault, not fellow humans.
Yet, none of that compared to what I witnessed next.
That Selvagian—Alex—dealt with every single attacker almost effortlessly. His combat efficiency was shocking, and the power he displayed… gods. Energy-based abilities like his are rare, often underestimated despite their destructive potential, but he wielded them like an artist with a brush.
Golden arrows rained from the sky like divine punishment, devastating everything in their path. He displayed spatial manipulation, mental domination, and an overwhelming aura that made it hard to breathe just being near it.
Especially for a Selvagian.
Centuries ago, their people were seen as wild, primitive. But times have changed. They've advanced intellectually, technologically—but even with all that, this level of personal power? It's not normal.
Honestly, I doubt he's any weaker than Colonel Pedro. Possibly even stronger.
And yet, there's something about him… something hidden. He walks like someone unconcerned, like he doesn't carry that kind of power. Always so calm. So… relaxed.
"I wonder what his animal form is," I muttered aloud. "He must be a predator—like the Colonel."
If only I had known the truth: Alex's base form was a squirrel.
A squirrel.
Among Selvagians, especially Hight Selvagians, power often correlates with their animal ancestry. Predators dominate the top. Colonel Pedro, for instance, is feared partially because of his beast lineage. So how could Alex be that strong… and that relaxed?
Despite my thoughts racing, we regained control of the room. The doors were secured, and communication systems flickered back online.
"Engineering Room to Communication Control," I called out.
The response came almost immediately.
"This is Colonel Pedro. Is that you?"
Relief swept through me at the sound of his voice. "Yes, it's me."
"Excellent. How are things over there?"
"It's peaceful now."
There was a short pause. Then his tone changed.
"Cough—well… is Alex there? Is he okay? Safe?"
The way he asked that... oddly specific. I blinked. Sure, they were special guests, but the level of concern caught my attention. Then again, considering Alex had single-handedly subdued all hostiles…
I glanced around the room: one corpse, another nearly dead, and three prisoners wrapped in golden bindings. The source of it all still sat quietly, meditating.
"He's fine," I answered simply.
Pedro let out a barely audible sigh of relief.
"Told the General he'd be fine… he's not weak," I thought I heard him murmur.
"Colonel?" I asked, uncertain if the line had gone quiet.
"Yes, Professor? The room wasn't invaded?"
"It was. But it was handled."
"Handled…?"
I turned to the meditating figure in the center of the chaos. Still. Composed. Radiating a quiet, sacred pressure that felt almost divine.
"Yes," I said. "He took them down alone. Golden arrows, mental pressure, spatial force... It was decisive."
There was a pause.
"You mean he immobilized an elite strike force... with barely any effort?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"...Right. I knew it was possible. Just didn't expect proof this soon. Regardless, don't worry. The military is tracking the rest of the attackers. And about the internal suspicions... the Federation will investigate thoroughly. Justice will be done."
His voice steadied, turning from disbelief to conviction.
I gave a sharp salute.
"Understood, Colonel."
"Ending transmission."
And with that, the call ended. I finally allowed myself to breathe, watching the enigmatic figure at the center of it all—Alex. The way Pedro and the General reacted to him… it wasn't just protocol. This wasn't about rumors or favoritism. It was something more.
Alex's POV
I sat in silence, immersed in meditation.
The technique I was using was Elven—one of my favorites. Calm, flowing, deeply rejuvenating. I'd had many lives, but the ones lived in harmony with nature were always among the most peaceful. Fewer betrayals. Less politics.
And less noise.
I hadn't hidden anything during the battle. Not with cameras recording everything. I'm not secretive—just quiet. But I act when needed, especially when others are in danger.
As I reached for a small pack of dried fruits—plums and apricots—I tossed another packet toward the engineers. Tiago and I snacked silently, while the others blinked, caught off guard by the gesture.
"Thanks!" one of the Selvagians said too loudly, clearly still shaken.
I offered him a calm smile. "It's okay."
He blushed, glancing away.
I've learned to pick my battles. Revenge is an art I've mastered—but mercy is a discipline I respect.
Not long after, the room's doors slid open.
Colonel Daniel entered first, flanked by soldiers. But behind them...
Leonardo.
Everyone straightened, preparing for protocol—salutes, greetings, official reports. But Leonardo didn't wait.
He moved.
In a blink, he was across the room, right in front of me. Before I could react, he pulled me into a hug, his hands scanning my arms, back, shoulders—checking for wounds.
Of course, if I had been injured, I'd already healed myself. Nature magic is efficient like that.
"G-Leonardo?" I asked, blinking.
"Are you hurt? Are you alright?" His voice was low, worried.
"I'm fine," I replied, surprised but honest. "I'm strong."
It felt strange. I've lived countless lives—but very few people ever worried about me. Tiago did, a little… but this felt different.
He released a breath, relieved.
"Good," he muttered. Then turned sharply. "Status?"
Colonel Daniel and the other soldiers immediately began assessing the room. Scanning for survivors, identifying corpses, verifying the safety of the engineers.
But Leonardo… he remained by my side.
He didn't need to say anything. The gesture alone said enough.