Sylvara's Rebirth A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 9

**TITLE: The Third Signature by Mark Twain**
**Chapter 9: Testing Her**

“Hello,” a deep, resonant voice broke through the air as Agares approached, his military boots echoing with each purposeful step.

Sylvara felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine, as if each stride he took pressed directly against her heart. There was something magnetic about him, an allure that made her yearn to learn more.

“I’m Agares Vaelor,” he declared, his gaze piercing yet respectful. “May I inquire your name, ma’am? And what prompted you to cast the Swarmborn host into the void of space?”

Caught off guard, Sylvara blinked and realized he was already standing just a breath away from her.

He towered over her, a head taller, with eyes as dark as the midnight sky, sharp and assessing like a hawk, and colder than the iciest winter.

Sylvara gasped, a rush of realization flooding her mind.

Beauty can be deadly.

That old adage rang true in her ears!

Stunned by his striking appearance, she hadn’t even registered how close he had come until now.

“Oh! You startled me,” she managed to stammer, her voice betraying her surprise. “My hand slipped, and they just… fell out.”

Carlos had already informed him about the girl who had crushed the Swarmborn host beneath her foot.

In truth, Agares had no preconceived notions about the girl standing before him; his sole interest lay in unraveling the mysteries of her mental energy.

“Who are your parents?” he inquired, his tone shifting from curious to sharp. “What level is your mental energy?”

Sylvara found herself momentarily speechless.

He had spoken to her with a veneer of respect, addressing her as “ma’am,” yet now he was treating her like a mere child.

In the Abel Star System, where the average lifespan stretched between 150 to 200 years, individuals reached adulthood at the age of 18. And yet, her appearance hardly suggested she was a mere child.

On the upside, Agares had never encountered Sylvara before, so her true identity remained cloaked in secrecy for the moment.

“I don’t possess mental energy; I’m just naturally strong,” Sylvara asserted, masking her anxiety with a serious demeanor. “And after each battle, my body feels utterly drained for quite some time.

“Sometimes, I become so weak that I can barely stand.”

Carlos wouldn’t mislead him.

Agares remained impassive, his expression unyielding as he said, “Is that so? Here, hold this ball.”

A small, pristine white sphere materialized in his palm.

Sylvara understood its significance; if she gripped it too tightly, it would reveal her mental energy levels.

Feigning innocence, she reached out, took the ball, and squeezed it firmly. “Like this?” she asked, her voice laced with feigned curiosity.

Agares frowned slightly. The ball remained stubbornly white, devoid of any hint of color.

So she truly has no mental energy.

Could it really be possible for someone with no mental energy to crush the head of a Swarmborn host?

Carlos was equally perplexed.

He had sensed an overwhelming surge of mental energy emanating from her.

How could the ball reflect nothing when she held it?

Agares fell silent for a moment, his sharp gaze still fixed on her. “You haven’t yet told me your name, nor who your parents are.”

Sylvara returned the white ball, her smile bright and unwavering. “I’m Feywin, from the Feywin family on Harvest Star 2 in the Tenth Sector.

“I lived on Centria for a while, and now I’m headed to the Fifth Military Academy on the Fifth Sector planet.”

Once Carlos had exited, Agares picked up the apple from the table.

This girl, Feywin, had actually noticed the deterioration of my genetic makeup.

“Where did you go?”

Before Sylvara could make her way back to her room, Miralys suddenly appeared, pulling her aside with an air of authority.

Sylvara twisted her wrist, breaking free from her grasp. “Where else would I go? Seeing such a magnificent warship, I had to take a good look around.”

Miralys frowned, suspicion and contempt etched on her face. “Just looking around? Not sneaking off to find His Highness Agares?”

Sylvara rubbed her wrist lightly, her composure unshaken. “Miralys, did you forget that I’m his wife now? Even if I go to see him, it’s entirely legal. Are you upset now? Regretting your decision?”

Miralys froze, realization dawning on her. She did regret it. Agares was even more charming, taller, and more dazzling in person than he appeared on Starnet.

She and Zephyrion had been hiding in an escape pod, the spaceship trembling around them, growls and gnawing sounds echoing from outside. She had felt fear grip her heart.

But the moment Agares’ voice resonated through the cabin, all the passengers, including her, erupted into cheers.

When she stepped out of the escape pod and laid eyes on his sleek, black hunter warship, she was left breathless. If she had married him, she would have been the commander’s wife of that very vessel.

“What are you so proud of?” Miralys felt a surge of provocation and indignation, raising her voice. “Do you really think he came just to save you? Stop being ridiculous! You’re nothing but trash!”

Sylvara arched an eyebrow, her calm demeanor unwavering. “If I’m trash, then why did you bring me to the Fifth Military Academy instead of letting me wait at home for His Highness Agares?”

Miralys’s heart sank. She regretted allowing jealousy to cloud her judgment and forgetting the task Seraphine had assigned her.

In an instant, her attitude shifted. She clung to Sylvara’s arm, embracing her tightly. “You’re not trash, just weak! Bringing you to the Fifth Military Academy is to enhance your physical strength.

“If you don’t, when you and His Highness Agares go public, your lack of mental energy and fragile physical state will reflect poorly on him.”

Sylvara couldn’t help but sneer inwardly, though she maintained an understanding facade, playfully mocking, “Ah, I see. You and Aunt Seraphine are so thoughtful. I thought you were merely trying to send me there to eliminate me.”