Elarys held him tightly, as if afraid he might fall asleep again if she loosened her grip.

  "You scared me," she whispered against his shoulder.

  "I'm sorry," Vlad replied gently.

  She pulled back just enough to look at him properly, her fingers brushing through his hair as if reassuring herself he was truly awake. "You were unconscious for three days."

  Three days.

  To him, it had felt like mere hours drifting in another world.

  "I'm fine now," he said.

  And he meant it.

  As he slowly pushed himself upright, a strange clarity washed over him.

  The air felt different.

  Lighter.

  Clearer.

  Mana floated through the room like faint, shimmering threads weaving between objects, drifting lazily in the sunlight.

  He froze.

  He could see it.

  Beyond the door, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Voices murmured in restrained urgency.

  The news had already begun to spread.

  The youngest son of Draven has opened his eyes.

  The door opened abruptly.

  Seraphiel stepped in first, his presence firm and commanding even in silence. Lysera slipped past him almost immediately, Aldric following close behind.

  Lysera ran straight to Vlad and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

  "You're back…" Her voice trembled faintly.

  Vlad smiled softly. "You returned, Sister. I thought you were away."

  "I came back because I was worried about you," she said, holding him even tighter. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

  "Don't worry," Vlad replied lightly. "I won't leave until I fulfill our promise."

  Lysera pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "You better," she said, laughing through the remnants of her worry.

  Vlad laughed with her, the sound soft but genuine.

  Behind them, Seraphiel stood still.

  He watched the scene in silence. He also wanted to join them, to embrace him, to laugh with him.

  He took a small step forward—then stopped.

  Aldric gently tapped him on the back. "At least say something to him."

  Seraphiel exhaled quietly and walked closer to the bed.

  "It is good to see you well, son."

  Vlad lowered his gaze respectfully. "I apologize for making you worry, Father."

  For a brief moment, Seraphiel paused.

  His hand tightened at his side.

  Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.

  The door closed softly behind him.

  In the corridor, he stopped and leaned against the wall, his head lowering slightly.

  Aldric stepped out a moment later and watched him silently.

  After a pause, Seraphiel spoke, his voice low.

  "Why did you place me upon this cursed throne, Brother?"

  Aldric folded his arms.

  "You will understand when the time comes."

  Seraphiel closed his eyes briefly.

  Inside the room, laughter still lingered.

  Outside, the weight of a kingdom remained.

  "Are you not going to speak with Vlad, Brother?" Seraphiel asked quietly.

  Aldric turned toward him.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  His eyes were only half-open, as though weighed down by thoughts too heavy to share. A faint smile curved across his lips.

  "I was just about to head inside," Aldric replied evenly.

  Seraphiel studied him for a brief moment, then gave a small nod.

  "Then I will not keep you. I will be in the throne room if you need me."

  He turned, his long cape shifting with the motion, the fabric whispering against the stone floor as he strode down the corridor.

  Aldric lowered his head slightly.

  Just for a moment.

  When he lifted it again—

  Seraphiel was gone.

  No footsteps.

  No lingering presence.

  Vanished.

  Aldric's faint smile disappeared.

  "…Brother," he muttered under his breath.

  He stepped forward into the corridor, scanning the empty hall.

  "Don't tell me…"

  His expression darkened.

  "Damn it, Seraphiel. You better not be heading to Valeren."

  He turned sharply and began walking—then broke into a run.

  "Kaira!" he called out as he moved through the estate halls.

  The guards straightened at the sound of his voice.

  "Erik, with me. Now."

  The urgency in Aldric's tone left no room for hesitation.

  Something was wrong.

  "What is it, Lord Aldric?" Erik asked as he rushed toward him.

  Aldric did not waste breath.

  He pointed toward Kaira.

  "Take Kaira to Kaishen and bring Lord Raizen to Valeren."

  Erik's eyes widened. "Does that mean the Patriarch is—"

  "Yes," Aldric cut in. "Seraphiel is already on the move. Go."

  There was no time for hesitation.

  Erik mounted Kaira, and the great beast launched into the sky, wind splitting in her wake.

  "Lucas," Aldric said without turning, "stay behind. Protect the capital."

  And then—

  He was gone.

  The ground where he stood cracked faintly from the force of his departure. A ripple of air marked the path he carved into the sky before even that vanished.

  Unaware of the chaos outside Valeren, King Caelum Valeren sat in council.

  "Any word from the scouts?" Caelum asked calmly.

  "There is nothing significant in the letter sent from Kaishen, my lord," one advisor replied.

  "And Draven?"

  The room tightened.

  The advisors exchanged uneasy glances.

  "We have not received any letter from the unit dispatched there, my lord. We… believe they might have been intercepted."

  A wine glass shot past the speaker's face.

  It shattered against the wall in an eruption of red.

  "I instructed you," Caelum said softly, dangerously, "to send only elites to Draven."

  No one spoke.

  Silence hung like a noose.

  Caelum leaned back slowly.

  "I hope you know that if they caused any trouble in Draven…" His gaze darkened. "Seraphiel will not remain seated."

  In the meantime, at House Kaishen—

  Kaira descended like a falling star before the gates of Kaishen.

  Guards rushed forward, moving into fighting stances until a voice cut through the tension.

  "Stand down."

  The guards parted.

  Raizen Kaishen stepped forward, towering and composed.

  Erik dismounted immediately and bowed.

  "I come at Lord Aldric's request."

  Raizen's brow furrowed. "Speak."

  Erik explained.

  Raizen exhaled sharply and rubbed his temple.

  "That fool…"

  He stepped forward.

  "There's no time to waste talking. We move now."

  Both mounted Kaira.

  She surged skyward again, tearing through the clouds toward Valeren.

  Aldric was moving through the forest like a fracture in reality.

  Trees blurred past.

  The earth barely registered his steps.

  He did not teleport.

  He advanced so violently fast that distance surrendered before him.

  He conserved mana carefully.

  If Seraphiel had truly lost control—

  He would need every ounce of it.

  "I hope," Aldric muttered to himself, "I am not too late."

  Meanwhile, the doors to the Valeren Throne Hall opened.

  "His Majesty, King Caelum Valeren."

  Nobles rose as Caelum entered, Knight Captain Vaelor Caedryn following behind like a shadow carved in steel.

  He took his throne.

  The queen seated beside him.

  Duke Altheris Vaelmont stepped forward.

  "Greetings, my king."

  "Speak."

  "My king, House Vaelmont would—"

  The palace shook.

  An explosion thundered through the halls.

  Stone screamed.

  The nobles erupted in murmurs.

  "Silence," Caelum commanded.

  Instant stillness.

  He glanced toward Vaelor.

  Vaelor understood without further instruction.

  "Is Kaelis brawling with the Order again?" Caelum asked.

  "It would not surprise me, my king," Vaelor replied evenly. "His arrogance has grown."

  "I will discipline them."

  Vaelor stepped forward.

  "I will come with you," Caelum said, rising.

  "My king—" Duke Altheris began.

  "I will hear you later."

  The doors closed behind them.

  They stepped onto the balcony.

  And the sight below froze the breath in Caelum's lungs.

  The main gates—

  Gone.

  Blown inward, iron twisted and impaled into stone, decorated with the broken bodies of Valeren knights. Blood drenched the white marble. A single crimson trail carved violently across the courtyard.

  At the end of it—

  A knight drenched in blood.

  Screaming.

  His voice tore through the palace grounds as he was dragged across the stone, his armored fingers clawing uselessly at the marble, leaving streaks where his nails split and bent. His legs kicked weakly, armor scraping, metal shrieking against stone.

  Caelum's eyes followed the trail.

  To the one dragging him.

  "Seraphiel…?" Caelum's voice trembled.

  Vaelor stepped forward beside him—

  And froze.

  His hand tightened around the hilt at his waist, though he did not draw it. It shook despite himself.

  Seraphiel stood in the ruin.

  White robes—now streaked with crimson arcs, as though painted by violent brushstrokes. Around him, wounded knights crawled, some begging, some screaming, some too broken to move.

  His silver hair did not stir.

  The smoke parted around him.

  In one hand, he dragged the knight by the leg.

  The knight's chestplate was crushed inward, metal warped like softened wax. Each pull forced a broken scream from his lungs. The grinding scrape of armor against marble echoed relentlessly through the courtyard.

  Seraphiel stopped.

  Slowly—

  He looked up.

  His eyes met Caelum's.

  And in a voice barely above a whisper—

  "Incinerate."

  Flame erupted.

  Not around the knight.

  From within him.

  Fire burst through the cracks in his armor, pouring from his mouth as his scream rose into something inhuman. His body arched violently, fingers digging into stone until they snapped backward.

  The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

  Knights nearby recoiled in horror. One tried to crawl away. Another vomited.

  Seraphiel stood before the inferno, the flames illuminating his features in gold and red.

  And he smiled.

  The same smile he had shown Aldric.

  Calm.

  Too calm.

  "Your knights gave me quite the welcome, Caelum," Seraphiel called up lightly, as the burning screams behind him began to weaken. "I hope the explosion did not interrupt anything important."

  The fire died.

  The body collapsed into charred stillness.

  His smile widened.

  The air around him trembled.

  Not with mana.

  With pressure.

  Several knights dropped to their knees, clutching their chests as if something invisible pressed against their ribs. A crack split the marble beneath Seraphiel's feet without him moving.

  Caelum's hands tightened against the balcony railing hard enough for the stone to fracture.

  "Seraphiel…!"

  He shouted with everything in his lungs.