[IMPERIAL PALACE]
[MOUNT CASTLE]
Sylvester stepped into the throne room. Three Dukes already stood beneath the dais where Emperor Persesus lounged in his commanding slouch—a posture of deliberate, effortless dominance.
A churchwarden pipe curled smoke between his fingers, its scent clashing with the metallic tang of mana thickening the air.
The emperor's golden robe draped carelessly, baring scarred abs and the old wounds he wore like medals. His gaze, sharp enough to flay skin, locked onto Sylvester. The room's tension prickled like pre-storm static.
Annoying, Sylvester thought. But he bowed, his voice silk over steel.
"May the sun ever shine upon Your Imperial Majesty's wisdom and reign."
Perseus exhaled smoke. "I heard something... interesting, Duke Nyxveil."
Sylvester—playing the role of Duke Zaphery Nyxveil—lifted his head. The emperor's blue eyes glinted with open hostility. Had this been Sylvester's true form, Perseus would've long since averted his gaze.
"Your daughter." The emperor's fingers tightened around his pipe. "You're sending her to the Academy."
Sylvester's political smile didn't waver. He knew why the emperor feared the Academy.
Its professors nurtured power beyond even the imperial family's reach. For centuries, emperors had manipulated the Great Families by favoring those who avoided the Academy's influence.
But the previous Nyxveil patriarch hadn't cared. He'd sent both his sons—Zaphery and Joshua—to the Academy. They'd returned as legends: the God of War and the Second Fury.
Now, Selentia's potential dwarfed even theirs.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Sylvester said. "My daughter's potential exceeds what our house alone can cultivate."
Perseus' jaw twitched. "I thought Nyxveil's education was... excellent."
"Your praise honors us." Sylvester's smile turned razor-thin. "But her talent demands more."
The emperor's mana detonated.
Air solidified. Courtiers choked as if their lungs had turned to lead. The Shadow Knights collapsed, knees cracking marble, blood seeping from their eyes. The three dukes beside Sylvester buckled, flesh blistering under the invisible fire.
Only Sylvester stood unaffected.
"Snap out of it, you bastard," hissed Daniel Nordwyn, Ezekian's father. "Do you plan to get all of us killed?"
Sylvester arched a brow. "I've done nothing."
"Then do something!"
Persesus' voice boomed, each word a hammer blow. "Do not send your daughter to the Academy."
Sylvester tilted his head. "And if I refuse? My daughter isn't a doll to dance at your command."
Daniel's breath hitched. Never had Zaphery Nyxveil openly defied the emperor.
What changed? Daniel wondered. Is it Crimson Abyss? Has he finally dropped the diplomat's mask?
Perseus rose, his mana igniting. Orange flames roared like starving tigers, heat warping the throne room's gilded edges. The surviving Shadow Knights vomited blood, their eyeballs whitening. The dukes gasped, hands clapped over their mouths to block the poison seeping into the air.
Yet Sylvester merely sighed out of annoyance.
"Is this the best you can do?"
The emperor's roar shook the palace. "ARROGANCE HAS BLINDED YOU, NYXVEIL! DO YOU FORGET WHO RULES HERE?"
Sylvester snapped his fingers.
The flames died.
Thirty Shadow Knights crumbled to ash. The dukes sagged, wheezing. Perseus froze, his face a mask of disbelief.
Pyroclaw—my strongest dominion—nullified... by a snap?
Sylvester's smile darkened. "The Great Families remain your loyal subjects, Your Majesty. But do not mistake loyalty for weakness."
The emperor trembled, his throne's armrest splintering under his grip. For the first time in centuries, he'd been overpowered.
Sylvester turned to leave—then paused.
"Ah. A request." His voice dropped, glacial. "Cease your... interest in my daughter. She has a temper. It'd be... unfortunate if her inexperience led to... accidents."
The unspoken threat hung like a headsman's axe:
-My daughter is crazier than me; unlike me, she won't stop with just mere threats.-
Perseus' face purpled with rage. But he said nothing.
As Sylvester strode out, his cloak swirling in the poisoned air, he muttered,
"I've let a dog think itself a wolf too long."
**********************************************
Prince Kaelith watched from the shadows, his angelic face twisted with fury.
Zaphery Nyxveil had humiliated the emperor. And Selentia—his Selentia—had ignored him days prior, her once-warm eyes now arctic.
This isn't part of the plan.
"Daran," he whispered.
A hooded figure materialized. "Your spies watch her, Highness. But she's inside Noctiem—they cannot follow."
Kaelith's lips curled. "Cunning girl. First to hunt the dragon heart, first to seek my brother after showing such disinterest..." He spun on his heel. "Ready the carriage. We visit Alancia Nyxveil."
A predator's grin flashed.
"Who knows, I might find clues behind the change of Zaphery Nyveil and My Tia by comforting her a little?"
Beneath his beauty, Kaelith was a viper—and his obsession with Selentia had just turned deadly.
******************************************************
[SIAN, THE MAGIC CITY]
[NOCTEIM]
[60TH FLOOR, INSIDE THE HIDDEN LAB]
Edwin stood in the corner of the lab, watching as Xavier worked over the corpse. Blood pooled across the floor, gleaming under the flickering lab lights. Xavier's hands moved with surgical precision, the knife in his grip flashing as it carved into lifeless flesh.
His white gloves were now stained crimson, discarded blades resting silently beside the body. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sour stench of exposed muscle.
"What are you doing?" Edwin finally asked, unable to tear his gaze away from the macabre display.
Xavier didn't answer. Instead, he sliced his own finger and began painting intricate magic circles onto the corpse's forehead and chest with his blood. As he chanted in a guttural, demonic tongue, Edwin's hands fell slack at his sides.
A dark purple light erupted, swallowing the corpse whole. Demonic energy crackled through the air, oppressive and unnatural. When the glow faded, Edwin's breath caught in his throat.
"Wait… That thing looks exactly like you!" He lunged forward, staring between Xavier and the doppelgänger on the table.
Before, the corpse had borne only a passing resemblance—enough to fool a cursory glance. Now, it was a perfect replica, down to the smallest detail. A chill crawled up Edwin's spine.
"I couldn't use demonic arts before because I hadn't accepted this power," Xavier said calmly, peeling off his gloves and running a hand through his hair. "Now I can."
Edwin's jaw tightened. Less than a day since forming his demon core, and Xavier was already teleporting and reshaping flesh like it was nothing.
"I didn't expect it to work on the first try," Xavier admitted, smirking. "Guess I'm just a genius."
Edwin exhaled sharply. There were no words for the unease coiling in his gut.
"Xavier," he began, voice low, "what were you doing at the top of Nocteim?"
The question had been burning in his mind since XueHua's appearance.
Xavier leaned against the table. "When the captain mentioned Sylvester tracking her, I went to investigate. Then I heard flute music—music no one else reacted to. I followed it and found her."
Edwin's fingers twitched. That was the problem. He'd scoured the Eastern Empire for XueHua and found nothing. Yet she'd appeared here, calling to Xavier alone.
"And… she's not human," Xavier added.
Edwin went rigid. "What?"
"Not human. Not demon, either." Xavier's brow furrowed. "But when I heard that flute… I felt something. A pull. Like I *knew* her, even though I've never met her before."
"Xavier Alexux Aelric," Edwin snapped, "listen to yourself."
Xavier rolled his eyes. "Do I *look* like the type to get lovesick over a stranger?"
Edwin said nothing.
"It's not like that. I don't know how to explain it. For twenty years, the only emotions I've known were anger and hate. This was… different." Xavier's voice softened slightly. "Not bad. Just familiar."
Edwin pinched the bridge of his nose. None of this made sense. If XueHua wasn't human, what was she? His mind raced.
*Dragons recognize their kin. Could she be—?*
His thoughts were cut off as Xavier collapsed onto the sofa, exhaustion finally overtaking him. Edwin watched him for a moment before turning back to the corpse—Xavier's perfect twin.
His chest ached.
"XueHua…" The name tasted bitter. Once, it had been a prayer. Now, it was a curse to him.
She had lived without him. Without their son, too well, it seemed.
And the distance between them had never felt wider.