The village burned with the scent of rituals undone.
Flickering remnants of the cult's corrupted wards still hummed weakly in the air, like echoes refusing to die. The flames from Rhea's battle danced among the half-collapsed homes, casting long shadows that merged with Kieran's dark cloak as he stood at the center of it all, motionless.
The battle was over.
But victory left a bitter taste.
Aftermath
Elira approached, a slight limp in her step. Her cloak was stained, not with blood, but with residual curse magic. Even now, faint wisps of violet smoke clung to her sleeves.
"They didn't fight to win," she said quietly, her eyes narrowing at the horizon. "They fought to stall us."
Kieran didn't reply immediately. He stepped over the broken threshold of what had once been the village chapel—now a makeshift sanctum of the cult. At the center, a circle of charred stone marked where the ritual had taken place. Strange runes burned into the floor hissed and curled as the system cleansed them one by one.
"Look deeper," Kieran finally replied. "They weren't just stalling us. They were testing something."
Sylvie had entered silently behind him, her eyes cast toward a broken mirror hanging on the wall, partially melted.
"I felt it during the ritual," she said. "A pull. Like something… on the other side was waiting to cross over. They were trying to connect to something."
Talia's voice crackled through the system's internal link:"I've confirmed it. The relics they were using are ancient—pre-system age. These runes are similar to the Tower glyphs we found last month."
Elira stiffened."That would mean…"
"Yes," Kieran said flatly. "They're trying to awaken something buried deep."
The Survivors
The Crown members gathered the few villagers who had been left alive—bewitched, but not lost. Mira Solvine, the gentle shield bearer of the Aegis Division, quietly administered care to the wounded. Her barrier magic now gently wrapped around a group of terrified children like a warm blanket.
Nyssa Thorne returned from a scouting run, wings twitching behind her, eyes sharp.
"No more cultists within ten miles. But I found something odd." She dropped a sealed, black-inked scroll into Kieran's hand. "Buried in a tree knot. It's a summoning contract."
Kieran opened the scroll.
The glyphs within were layered with blood—a pact, designed to call something not of this realm. But the name at the bottom was smeared, incomplete.
He frowned.
A ritual without a named target?
No… It wasn't incomplete.
It was deliberately hidden.
The 15 Crowns Gather
Back at their secret chamber beneath the Hidden Valley, the 15 Crowns assembled. The room pulsed with magical resonance, the Crown Crests on their necks glowing faintly under the ceremonial blue light.
A table made of obsidian sat at the center, with a detailed map spread across it—one that updated in real time with information from the scouts, Shadow Commanders, and system feeds.
Kieran stood at the head.
"This was a test. A ritual meant not just to connect—but to awaken a lost conduit. If we hadn't interfered, they would've opened a gate to something ancient."
Vell Ashmoor, the necromancer known as the Boneflower, spoke in her usual calm, eerie tone."And now they know we're watching."
Yui, ever the quiet assassin, leaned on the wall, arms crossed."Let them know. We'll break every bone that tries to rise in shadow."
Kieran nodded.
"But we must move cautiously. This war is no longer just in the shadows. The cult is learning. Adapting."
He placed the scroll on the table.
"And now they have begun reaching for otherworldly aid."
System's Directives: Countermissions
Kieran turned to Talia, who was already tapping on her system-linked runes, pulling up new mission protocols.
"I've authorized the release of Operation: Black Echo," he said. "I want Crown agents to move into the cities. Blend into the guilds, the noble households, the orphanages. Monitor the flow of ancient relics."
"Shadow Commanders will lead the vanguard," Elira added, already organizing the names. "We'll embed operatives within key academies, border towns, merchant networks. If the cult wants to spread, we'll poison their roots before they bloom."
Kieran's voice was low, but resolute."From today onward… we become the hidden sword. Let the world sleep peacefully, never knowing we're the ones cutting out its nightmares."
An Unseen Hand
That night, as the Hidden Crown mobilized once more, Kieran stood alone on the balcony of his sanctum. His gaze swept the stars—ancient, silent, but watching.
The cult was dangerous, yes.
But what truly worried him… was the entity behind them.
Whatever they were trying to contact—whatever slumbered beyond—had not awakened yet.
But it had stirred.
And Kieran could feel it.
Just beneath the edge of reality.
Smiling.