As Astra awoke, the soft glow of twilight crept through the window, casting delicate shadows across the walls of his luxurious room. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and soft gold, signaling the start of another night in Duskfall—the city that never sleeps.
He stretched languidly, his body feeling stronger, more rested than it had in years. Gone were the days of discomfort and exhaustion; the restful sleep and clean body had revived him in ways he hadn't expected.
The transformation had been subtle but undeniable. His messy curls, previously unruly and wild, now lay perfectly in soft waves around his face. His skin had a faint glow, as if touched by the starlight itself, and his violet eyes, once weary and empty, now shimmered with renewed focus and sharpness.
With a yawn, Astra pulled himself from the bed and stood before the mirror. The figure before him was nothing like the worn, ragged young man that had entered Duskfall's streets days ago.
Instead, a refined noble with striking, almost ethereal beauty stared back, the sharp features of his face now a perfect blend of masculinity and grace.
His once untamed body now had the poise and form of someone who belonged in the highest circles of society.
Astra couldn't help but smirk at the sight of himself. "Well, that's one way to look the part," he mused, his voice soft, almost in awe of the unfamiliar reflection.
He walked to the window, gazing out at the sprawling city as night began to fully embrace Duskfall. The stars were barely visible in the glow of the city's lights, but they seemed to beckon him all the same. It was time for him to make his next move.
....
Astra descended into the inn's dining hall, the scent of sizzling meats and fresh bread filling the air. The low hum of noble chatter mixed with the occasional clink of glasses as well-dressed patrons enjoyed their meals.
He strolled to the counter, his Nightshroud draped loosely around him, exuding the effortless air of a noble who belonged here.
"A plate of eggs, some mana beast steak—something domesticated, not wild—and…" Astra paused, leaning on the counter with an easy smirk. "An alcoholic lemonade."
The innkeeper, a middle-aged woman with shrewd eyes, raised an eyebrow. "Drinking already, my lord?"
"Breakfast isn't complete without a little indulgence," Astra said smoothly.
With a shrug, she jotted down his order and motioned to the kitchen. A short while later, a steaming plate of golden eggs, thick mana beast steak glistening with juices, and a chilled glass of spiked lemonade were placed before him.
He dug in, savoring the meal—it had been far too long since he'd eaten anything this refined.
Halfway through his meal, a nagging thought crept into his mind—his funds. He had been spending freely, using what little he had left, but at this rate, he'd be broke within a few days.
Furrowing his brow, he pulled out his Regal Coin and tapped it lightly, accessing the House of Night's archives. If nothing else, maybe there was information on old, hidden stashes or resources he could tap into.
Instead, his eyes locked onto a section he hadn't noticed before.
[Funds: 1000 Gold Standards (Monthly Stipend)]
Astra blinked. Then again. He tapped the coin, refreshed the display, checked the description—nothing changed.
1000 gold standards. Every. Single. Month.
His brain short-circuited.
The realization hit him like a spell to the chest, and before he could stop himself, he lost his balance and fell straight off his chair, landing on the floor with an undignified thud.
A few nobles glanced over at him, amused but uninterested, assuming he had simply drunk too much. Astra, sprawled on the floor, couldn't care less.
He was rich.
For the first time in years, money was no longer a problem. He could afford training, weapons, resources—hell, he could drown in alcoholic lemonade if he wanted.
Laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Astra exhaled a slow breath and grinned.
"...Well, damn."
Astra sat back up, gripping his Regal Coin like it had just handed him the heavens themselves. A thousand gold coins.Every. Single. Month.
His thoughts raced as he scrolled through the mana network, pulling up gossip articles and financial reports detailing noble spending habits.
Most minor house nobles only spent around a thousand gold standards every four months.
He blinked, reading it again.
That meant he had more raw spending power than some lords from minor noble houses. Not just merchants or common knights—actual titled nobles struggling to keep their estates afloat. And this was just his stipend.
House Night had been gone from the world for centuries, a forgotten relic of the past, and yet here it was, casually dumping wealth into his hands like it was pocket change.
Astra stared at the gleaming coin in his palm, his grip tightening. The sheer absurdity of it all left him momentarily speechless.
He had spent years scraping by, scavenging, stealing when necessary, and yet, with a single glance at his inheritance, he now held more financial security than nobles who had been raised in wealth their entire lives.
He slumped back against his chair, his mind still struggling to process it. He wasn't just rich.
He was stupidly rich.
"...I need another drink."
Astra sat in the noble lounge of the inn, his Regal Coin in hand, still scrolling through the mana network. The interface shimmered with a clip of a News mage from the guild of News reporting.
It was titled The Stars and Shadows—A Celestial Phenomenon?
He was a tall man with handsome features striking green eyes and a soothing voice. It was the famed Information Saint, Hilbert Edison. A powerful Saint who wields a strange magic and authority. He also loved to report and was a reporter for the realms. Perhaps the most known saint in the world simply due to his position.
"Scholars and mages alike are still at a loss to explain the strange celestial disturbance from last night. Witnesses reported the stars flaring with unnatural intensity while shadows writhed like living things. The Officials of House Dusk, when asked for comment, merely stated: 'Interesting.'"
"Our own analyst however do not care for the secrets of great houses and their ploys, We are the Guild of News, We report events how they go, not how certain people want them to go. Major disturbances were caused in certain realms, The churches have even mobilized saints, The commotion was certainly caused by perhaps a divine artifact, that we do not know the full details of. One thing is certain, There will be plenty to report. The saint smiled.
"What a crazy guy." Astra smiled, obviously a mere mortal wasn't going to talk like that about great houses and churches, but a saint of the guild of news protected by an angels had the status and power to.
Astra arched a brow. Hmm but that's it? No grand proclamations? Just 'interesting'? He supposed that was expected—House Dusk was ancient, and they had probably seen worse. Still, the fact that the shadows reacted so violently meant something had definitely changed. Churches saints have mobilized, great... Astra paled, but they did not state which churches.
He scrolled further. The next clips were far less mystical and much more entertaining.
A knight of the guild reported.
She was short gorgeous and had a dangerous smile with dark features. Definitely not the reason for Astra to even look at this clip.
House Palm and House Scorpion at Odds Once Again—A Duel to Settle the Score?
"The age-old feud between the prodigies of House Palm and House Scorpion continues to escalate, with whispers of a formal duel set to take place before the Springtime Advent Tournament. If sanctioned, this will be the tenth public duel in the past three years between these noble houses.
"Meanwhile, House Hunt's young heir, Aster Hunt, Champion of the Gladriel Life trials remains undefeated in the arenas, having recently crushed her latest challenger in a one-sided bout that lasted less than a minute. Experts predict she will dominate the upcoming tournament."
Astra's lips curled slightly. Aster Hunt… huh. The young heir from House Hunt—One of the Royal Stewards of Alfhiem and the Masters of Artemis, the one of the legendary capitals of Alfhiem..the same house that eradicated my ancestors and people.....She was obviously strong, but he hadn't paid much attention before. Still, if she was undefeated stunning.
He shook his head and kept scrolling.
Another knight reporter male short and pretty.
The Four Divisions of the Springtime Advent Tournament Announced!
"As always, the Springtime Advent Tournament will be divided into four divisions, allowing warriors of all levels to compete."
Division One – Rank One- One mana core.. (young lords and apprentices face off exciting talents and simple bouts)
Division Two-Two Mana Cores – Rank Two participants, Squires experienced combatants with refined techniques.
Division Three – three mana cores- Rank Three warriors.Knights and seasoned Mages.(All Paths to power welcome)
Division Four –Demi-Gods, Friendly Bouts.
"The tournament will last Nine days and Nine nights, drawing participants from all over the Realms."
Astra exhaled. This was big. The city had already been filled with energy, but now he understood why the streets were so alive with excitement. This wasn't just a festival—it was a battlefield where reputations were built and shattered.
He glanced at the last bit of text, an open call for competitors.
Anyone can participate, he didn't miss the subtle, (All Paths to Power welcome), this meant Jesters, and Blasphemers were participating....the danger of this tournament rose....for those divisions, thankfully Astra was but a mere rank one.
Astra scoffed, closing the Regal Coin's interface. Not interested. He wasn't looking to expose himself just yet. He still had a long way to go before he was ready for that kind of attention.
With a stretch, he rose from his seat, gulping down the beverage before stepping out of the noble lounge. The innkeeper, a stocky beastkin with long wolf-like ears, nodded as Astra passed.
"Thanks for your hospitality," Astra said smoothly, adjusting the Nightshroud's travel mode around his shoulders.
The innkeeper gave a lazy nod. "Come back anytime, Esteemed Lord."
Astra stepped onto the streets just as night fell upon Duskfall once again. The city was reborn in its true form—a nocturnal kingdom of light and shadow.
The towering spires gleamed under the flickering lanterns, and above, the Twilight Tower activated once more, casting its eerie, otherworldly glow across the skyline.
Boom!
Fireworks erupted overhead, showering the night with golden sparks. Music surged back to life, a cacophony of instruments and voices, as the festival roared back into motion. Dancers twirled in the streets, masked revelers laughed over glasses of enchanted wine, and merchants called out their wares.
Astra exhaled, stepping forward into the lively chaos of Duskfall's Festival.
It was time to get moving.
The streets of Duskfall's Grand Bazaar were alive with the renewed energy of the festival.
The second night had begun, and the sky above shimmered with the glow of lanterns and fireworks, casting a dreamlike hue over the city.
This time, Astra did not walk as a street rat, as a runaway, or as a man with no name. No, tonight, he strode through the market as an arrogant young noble of House Shadow—his steps confident, his Nightshroud now refined into a traveling noble's ensemble, and his Regal Coin hanging visibly at his hip, gleaming under the lantern light.
The moment he stepped into the tailor's boutique, he could feel the shift in atmosphere. The attendants, once dismissive of the rabble that wandered in from the lower districts, immediately straightened up, their trained eyes recognizing the cut of his armor and the unmistakable presence of wealth.
Astra didn't even need to say anything. Within seconds, a tailor was already guiding him toward a section reserved for high-ranking nobles, where dark silks, embroidered coats, and exquisitely crafted attire awaited.
As he stood before the grand mirror, being measured for his new wardrobe, Astra couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes.
Several young noblewomen, seated on a nearby cushioned bench, were whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at him.
He smirked.
Without turning to face them, he felt a little nervous and bored, the shadows around him mirrored his mood, making the light dim a little around them as shadows danced playfully. Their hushed giggles immediately stopped as they tensed, glancing around nervously.
Astra, still facing the mirror, tilted his head slightly.
"Ladies," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. "My eyes are up here not down there" He joked.
One of the young women squeaked in surprise, her face turning red. The others stifled laughter, trying (and failing) to act as if they hadn't been staring.
Another one, a bolder noblewoman with Saphire eyes and long black hair, crossed her arms and smirked. "And what if I didn't care?"
Astra finally turned to them, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. His eyes met hers and he simply laughed as he rolled them.
The tailor nearly stabbed him with a pin, muttering under his breath about nobles with too much confidence.
The girls laughed, a mix of amusement and exasperation at how silly this was, while Astra simply returned his attention to his fitting, thoroughly enjoying himself.
After all, if he was to walk the streets of Duskfall as a true noble of House Shadow, he had to play the part.
.....
Astra stepped out onto the cobblestone streets of the Grand Bazaar, now clad in his new noble attire—an obsidian-black long coat adorned with subtle gray embroidery, the pattern resembling intertwining celestial constellations. The fabric was smooth yet resilient, crafted from enchanted silk that shimmered faintly under the festival lights. The high collar added a regal air, while the golden embroidery along the cuffs and buttons exuded extravagance without being gaudy. Beneath the coat, a form-fitting dark vest hugged his frame, fastened with delicate gold chains connecting its buttons, while black trousers and sleek leather boots completed the ensemble.
With this, Astra no longer looked like a common noble. He looked like someone who belonged among the greater houses—dangerous, untouchable, and wealthy.
But he wasn't done shopping just yet.
Inside the boutique, Astra selected a variety of training clothes—lightweight, form-fitting tunics in shades of gray and black, reinforced with subtle mana-woven threading for durability. He also picked up several utility accessories—leather gloves lined with minor enchantments for grip, a black-and-gold sash, he stored his items in the mana coins storage internal storage.
By the time he was done, his total spending amounted to thirty gold standards—a hefty sum, but with his newfound wealth, it barely made a dent.
As he turned to leave, however, a familiar voice stopped him.
"Leaving so soon?"
Astra turned, already expecting to see her—the bold noblewoman from earlier.
Now that she was up close, he could appreciate just how stunning she truly was. She wore a flowing black and gold dress, tailored to perfection, with a deep-cut neckline that left little to the imagination.
A delicate gray capelet draped over her shoulders, fastened by a golden brooch shaped like a sun, marking her as a noble of House Dune—one of the Royal Stewards of Sahara. She gave off the subtle aura of a rank two....but it felt off? Astra felt that her shadow was deeper than it should be and his intuition for some reason told him...this woman was powerful...very powerful...
Her Saphire-blue eyes gleamed with mischief as she took a slow step toward him. "You never did give me your name."
Astra tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning. "And you never gave me yours."
She chuckled. "Fair. Princess Seraphine of House Dune. A pleasure." She extended her hand gracefully.
Astra took it, brushing his lips against the back of her knuckles in a mock display of chivalry. as he spoke "Astra of Shadow. At your service." but in his mind, he was panicking"Prin...Princess. of dune?! Just my luck! I can't get caught!, wait She defiantly knows where Shadow nobles might be!."
She arched a brow. "Astra of House Shadow huh..?"
He only smiled in response
Seraphine leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "You're interesting, Astra. A noble of House Shadow, yet I've never seen you before."
He chuckled. "I prefer to keep a low profile."
"Shame, but how fitting for your lineage" she said, eyes flickering with intrigue. "With a face like yours, you'd have quite the following."
Astra couldn't tell if she was genuinely interested in him or just playing the noble's game of flirtation and intrigue. Either way, he played along. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my Princess."
Seraphine smirked. "Perhaps. So tell me, what brings you to the Grand Bazaar? Shopping for a new look, or are you scouting for connections?"
Astra's eyes gleamed. Smart. She sees right through me.
He leaned slightly closer, his voice low and smooth. "Does it have to be just one?"
Seraphine laughed softly, seemingly pleased with his answer. "I like you, Astra. Perhaps we should exchange information?"
With a flick of her wrist, she activated her Regal Coin, allowing Astra to connect his own with hers—an exchange of direct communication access, something only nobles or high-ranking figures could do.
He accepted it smoothly, all the while keeping his true intentions hidden. This was his way into higher social circles, a potential stepping stone toward House Shadow's true elites.
"I literally just got the contact of a Princess...what the actual.."
Just as Astra was about to make another witty remark, his entire body tensed.
It was faint—almost imperceptible—but now that he had stopped focusing entirely on Seraphine, he could feel them.
The hidden gazes.
Around the boutique, lurking in the shadows, positioned strategically across the room—bodyguards.
Powerful ones.
He hadn't noticed them before, but now he could sense at least five. All of them stronger than him. All of them watching.
So this is the protection of a Royal Steward…
Astra kept his expression neutral, though inside, his mind was racing. He had been careless. Too focused on the interaction, too entertained by the flirtation. If he had made even the slightest wrong move, these invisible sentinels would have cut him down or captured him in an instant.
Seraphine must have noticed his shift in focus, because she smirked knowingly. "Oh? you noticed them, didn't you?, Impressive Astra, for a rank one to notice my guards... you really are interesting"
Astra forced a lazy smile, masking his tension. "Took you this long to bring them up?"
She laughed. "Eh most people don't even notice them I'm impressed you even did. Don't worry—they won't bite." Her voice dropped slightly. "Unless, of course, you give them a reason to."
Astra met her gaze, his smirk never faltering. "I'll be sure to behave, then."
Seraphine chuckled. "Good boy."
Astra only smiled as he turned away, playing it cool, but deep inside, he made a note....Seraphine of House Dune..was terrifyingly pretty and definitely not to be underestimated.
As Astra walked out of the boutique, keeping his usual calm and composed expression, his thoughts were anything but.
"Gods, why are all these noble women so damn pretty… and so damn crazy?"
He sighed internally, glancing at his Regal Coin where Seraphine's contact information now sat. She was dangerous—not in the way a warrior was, but in the way a viper slowly coiled around its prey before striking.
"'Good boy?'" His eye twitched slightly as he replayed the moment. "Gods, she's gonna eat me alive."
The worst part? He wasn't entirely sure if he minded.
.....
Back at the inn, Astra ordered a hearty lunch—a roasted mana beast steak, spiced potatoes, fresh bread, and, of course, a tankard of alcoholic lemonade. The food was rich and filling, a far cry from the scraps he used to scavenge. He ate with quiet satisfaction, savoring every bite as he watched the festival's lights flicker outside the window.
"Alright," he thought, finishing his drink with a sharp exhale. "Time to get to work."
Astra found himself in a quiet, secluded training yard behind the inn, where few would disturb him. The air was cool, the moon beginning to rise, and the hum of distant celebrations filled the night.
He unsheathed his new longsword—a sleek, black-bladed weapon forged by the legendary Angel of Steel.
He took his stance and began practicing the Sword of Shadows. Immediately, he struggled.
The style demanded unparalleled flexibility, adaptability, and, above all, speed. It wasn't about power—it was about fluidity, deception, and overwhelming the opponent with movement. His footwork was all wrong. But he had a foundation in it.
His swings lacked finesse. His transitions were stiff. He stumbled more times than he cared to admit, and his muscles burned from the unnatural movements.
"Damn it." Astra grit his teeth, stepping back and wiping sweat from his brow. He knew he was improving—he had to be—but it felt like every step forward came with ten more things to fix. His body simply wasn't trained for this yet.
"How the hell am I supposed to get better at this quickly?"
He swung again—faster, looser, adapting on the fly. The more he moved, the more he felt himself adjusting instinctively.
His body, though untrained, was learning faster than he realized. Every failed step, every awkward cut—his muscles were absorbing them, correcting themselves little by little.
He was rapidly improving!
But he was too focused on his failures to see just how terrifyingly fast he was improving.
After his grueling training session, Astra collapsed onto his bed, flipping open his Regal Coin to the Sword of Shadows' archived teachings.
The first passage made him scowl.
"To master the shadows, one must first become the shadow."
He stared at the words, running a hand through his still-damp curls. What the hell did that even mean? Was he supposed to disappear? Move without thought? He studied the recorded movements, watching how Shadow Masters flowed like liquid, struck like phantoms, and evaded like ghosts. It wasn't about memorizing steps—it was about being the blade within the dark, unseen until the moment of impact.
"Easier said than done," he muttered, tossing the coin onto the nightstand as he stepped into the shower.
The hot water soothed his sore muscles, and he let himself relax, mind still circling the concept. To be a shadow… does that mean I need to let go? He frowned, No. Not just let go… He sighed, rubbing the tension from his neck. I need to embrace the dark completely.
Just as Astra stepped out, a soft chime echoed from his Regal Coin.
[New Message: Seraphine Dune]
Seraphin: Astra, darling, I simply can't allow you to waste away all alone, I made sure to extend the invitation of your hose to include you specifically. You see. I'm hosting a minor ball this evening—nothing too formal, just a little gathering of friends, drinks, and entertainment.
Seraphine: And of course, you'll be my honored guest~
Seraphine: You look like you could use some fun....
She messaged Shadow!!! and from the looks of it they didn't sell me out. Hmm is this a traps perhaps? No I doubt it. Dune is neutral and I bear Shadows emblems they cant risk it. Wow she really is politically apt. Fine I'll go, its only a small ball, I should be fine.
Astra smirked as he tapped his reply into the Regal Coin.
Astra: I wouldn't dare miss it.
It's in a couple of Hours I should rest and get ready. As Astra was thinking his intuition was alerted! Something had found him!
He turned instantly, almost stumbling, panic rising in his chest.
Nothing.
No figure. No sound.
Just… a speck. A tiny mote of light, floating toward him like a drifting ember. It shimmered with a soft, starlit glow, pulsing gently as if alive. Yet Astra didn't sense danger. There was something oddly friendly about it.
What the actual fuck is that? Am I going to get evaporated?
The Star instantly recognized him as it formed a weak connection, Astra was panicking, Someone had found him, He was supposed to be protected by the godhood symbol of Umbra herself! Yet someone had enough power to surpass it!
He felt helpless
The star responded before he could act.
It recognized him.
It formed a weak, undeniable connection. Panic thundered in Astra's chest. Someone had found him. He was supposed to be protected—shielded by the divine symbol of Umbra herself. No one should have been able to locate him, and yet here it was.
Whoever they were, they'd pierced that divine veil.
He felt helpless.
Then the world shifted—violently, but without pain.
Astra didn't move, yet everything around him did. It was not his body that had traveled, but his soul. As if wrenched from the fabric of reality, he was taken elsewhere. A place beyond waking. Beyond explanation.
And there—he saw himself.
A shrouded figure stood beneath a town sky that looked painted by gods. Stars swirled in spirals and rivers above, majestic and endless. Nebulae flowed through the firmament like breath across glass.
His soul-form stood cloaked in unfathomable shadows, draped in a darkness that seemed older than time itself. His eyes, bright violet, burned softly. His hair, black and curled, fell over his brow. A Crown of Stars pulsed faintly above his head, while the Cloak of Shadows trailed behind him like living void.
This was none other than Astra.
His soul—his truest form.
He stood within a starry town, one that bent the laws of nature. The sky shifted constantly, an ever-turning mural of constellations and divine light. The very air shimmered with magic and celestial weight.
In a town—no, a realm—that shimmered with swirling constellations, cosmic winds, and an endless sky of nebulae. It was almost as if the town was hand-painted by a god, the stars vibrant and alive above swirling in the distant sky.
A figure emerged out of thin air, cloaked in ancient shadows so deep they swallowed the light. His soul burned with the fire of stars. His eyes glowed violet, jet-black curls crowned his head, and upon it—glorious and undeniable—a faint Crown of Stars. His entire form was draped in a Cloak of Shadows, unfathomable in depth and ancient in power.
It was none other than Astra.
His soul body.
Swirling stars and vast nebulae rolled above him, illuminating cobblestone streets and towering gothic buildings. It was a place of impossible beauty, suspended between dream and divinity. The sky churned like liquid starlight, colors blooming across the heavens. This was no ordinary space. He felt that this was a sacred realm.
As he turned, a second figure stepped into view. Tall. Regal. Draped in a linen robe embroidered with flecks of starlight. His violet eyes shone like distant galaxies. His violet eyes locked onto Astra's—then widened with awe.
And then, without hesitation, the man knelt.
Astra was stunned for a second. This man was no mortal. He was rank five. A Saint!
The man's voice echoed like the tolling of a great celestial bell.
"I greet the heir of Night."
Astra's mind raced.
Astra instantly made the connection. The Church of Night is this powerful? They found me this fast? How?
And more than that… a literal demigod is kneeling at my feet. I feel sick.
Then it clicked.
I bear the godhoods of Noctis and Umbra. To the Church, I must appear as a messiah… a prophet… a divine chosen.
"To whom do I have the honor of speaking?" Astra asked, tension in his voice.
The man remained kneeling. His tone was strong, reverent.
"Satalus Starial, Archbishop of the Church of Night. May I have the honor of your name, Prince?"
Astra's chest tightened as a chill ran through him. Archbishop. One of the highest-ranking leaders of the faith. He composed himself with effort.
"I am Astra Noctis, of House Night. Where exactly am I, Saint?"
Saint Satalus smiled softly, eyes still lowered.
"Oh yes," Satalus smiled "My Prince Astra, I humbly apologize for the sudden summoning.I dispatched emissaries through a divine relic of our Church—one capable of hiding from even Seraphs and Sins. It struggled to find you. But your godhood… it allowed for a weak lock. Through that connection, your soul was drawn here.
He gestured to the painted sky.
"The Kingdom of Stars, our sacred headquarters. We are beyond all external eyes here. No one knows this is happening. Not even the other saints of the church.
Astra glanced around now with a new understanding.
Tall gothic buildings littered the scenery, ancient cathedrals and Academies, Stars trapped in lamps in the empty streets and a river made out of celestial mana ran through the center of the city, curling around the largest cathedral, which he assumed to be the headquarters of the church. The stars above were strange as if painted rather than natural and they spun eerily and majestically.
Astra glanced around now with a new understanding.
Towering cathedrals with spires of black stone pierced the painted sky. Stars hovered in ornate lanterns along the streets. A river of flowing celestial mana wound through the city, glowing as it encircled the grandest cathedral of them all.
The stars above weren't natural. They spun in eerie, perfect harmony—like brushstrokes brought to life. The air itself was charged with magic, soaking into him. Replenishing. Embracing.
It feels like the realm welcomes me, Astra thought.
Astra stood still for a moment, then composed himself further.
"I must admit, Saint Satalus… I am new to this. All of this happened just last night, and I have a plethora of questions. I'm sure you do as well."
He adjusted his voice, letting it rise with formality—half-imitating a nobleman from a popular drama series. It felt ridiculous, but also strangely fitting.
"Let us talk."
Satalus nodded solemnly. "Indeed."
With a blink, the city vanished—and Astra now stood inside a vast chamber.
Scrolls, mana stones, celestial instruments, and trinkets lined every shelf. A globe of constellations rotated slowly above. The ceiling mirrored the heavens. And in one corner stood a staff that exuded raw divinity.
Astra felt a holy presence one akin to Odin himself. It was a staff that stood upright in a weird extravagant metal of sorts, Matte black wood curled up into a spiral, encasing a shifting star at its tip. The metal shimmered with an unplaceable hue, as if from another world. Astra knew this was a divine artifact of extreme power!
Its presence was undeniable.
A divine artifact.
Satalus, noticing his gaze, smiled faintly.
"That is the Staff of the Stars. One of the Six Holy Artifacts the Church preserves."
stra's Crown of Stars pulsed in response—and the staff dimmed. Obedient. Bowed.
A link formed.
Understanding poured into Astra's mind unbidden.
The Crown gives me sovereignty over all things star-magic related. That includes this.
The Staff… it empowers the user temporarily. Amplifies their magic. Makes them a pseudo-Star Mage Angel. But only for a short while. There are limits.
He muttered, voice barely audible.
"Its extremely powerful" he muttered as he felt a faint understanding of its power and the Crowns.
Satalus beamed. "It reacted to the Crown. Your godhood, however faint, dominates it."
With a graceful motion, Satalus waved his hand. The cluttered desk was cleared instantly, and two tall chairs—each shaped like radiant stars—manifested.
He motioned respectfully for Astra to sit.
Astra complied nervously, seating himself. Satalus followed, his posture reverent yet poised.
Silence hung in the air. Neither spoke.
Astra coughed awkwardly and gestured.
"Let's begin. You ask first."
The Saint nodded seriously.
"My Prince… what exactly happened?"
Astra sighed inwardly.
Straight to the point, I see.
He began to speak, recounting the events as best he could—carefully omitting the pieces that didn't fit a Prince or a chosen heir. The hunger. The thievery. The nights without shelter.
He shaped the tale as they wanted it to be.
Not a vagabond's tale, but a prophecy unfolding.
....
"After that I sought out Asylum for House Shadow and they granted me it on the surface anyways I have yet to meet up with them. I do not fully know why Shadow would choose to bear a such a burden but I have some guesses Astra explained trying to sound more smart and mature. "I also met a princess of Dune who seemed privy to secrets as she harbors a few herself. She invited me to a small gathering"
Satalus listened intently, nodding once, eyes unreadable.
"It is clearly a ploy," he said at last, tone heavy. "A remnant from ancient times. House Night's contingencies must have begun their awakening. For you to bear the legacy of both Shadow and Night? That is unheard of. No one in living memory has inherited both mana types—to such a degree."
The Archbishop leaned forward, his voice lowering.
"And for you to 'stumble' upon the Angel of Steel, who—by divine irony—is in contract with Her Holiness Lady Layla? No. Too coincidental. This reeks of influence. Threads older than this era are moving."
He exhaled slowly, violet eyes shimmering faintly beneath heavy lids.
"Shadow must house you. Perhaps even forge deeper ties with the Church of Night. Annexation, unification, something. If not by divine will—then by political necessity."
Astra nodded, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Indeed. The Angel of Steel seemed certain that Shadow would accept the political dangers I bring. Maybe… something is brewing between Dusk, Dawn, and Shadow. A triad shifting beneath the surface."
"Perhaps," Satalus said softly. "Shadow plays the longest game of all."
He glanced out the false window, where stars twisted slowly like oil over canvas.
"I must confess something, my Prince." His tone hardened. "We—the Church—cannot house you. We are strong, yes. We could withstand attacks from a few great houses. But not indefinitely. In the end, we would fall."
A silence fell between them. The Saint looked ashamed, not of weakness, but of reality.
"The only reason we are not already wiped from existence is because a few of us can ascend—temporarily—to the Angelic Level. That alone makes any assault on us costly, slow, and uncertain. But you…" He looked Astra dead in the eyes.
"You make the cost worth it."
Astra understood. He was not a student of politics, but he had watched people. And people, like cities, cracked under pressure or hunger. Everyone had a threshold.
"Only a Great House," Satalus said finally, "can stop another Great House."
The Archbishop straightened his spine, something old and noble in his posture.
"Seek them out. They are allies of the Church. You even share a divine bloodline. They will not dare treat you poorly—not unless they wish to invite the wrath of the Night itself. They will likely train you. Test you. Screen your loyalties. It will be dangerous and treacherous… but it will also be your path."
He folded his hands together, gaze darkening.
"The angels of Shadow have been quiet lately. Too quiet. Even for them. They are schemers—more than any other lineage. If you are to survive this, follow their schemes to their source. I shall aid you if needed."
Astra inclined his head, eyes narrowing just slightly.
"I must bother you, Saint. It seems I am quite alone in navigating such… endeavors."
The words were humble. Perhaps even naïve to the ear. But inside, Astra sharpened.
I won't trust him either. No matter how kind he appears. Everyone has a price. Even saints.
Satalus tilted his head, clearly sensing the tension. But he said nothing. Instead, his voice dropped into a darker tone.
"What godhoods did you obtain?"
Astra met his gaze, his voice even, steady.
"The Crown of Stars… and the Cloak of Shadows."
He waited—curious what truth might be drawn from the Saint's reaction.
Satalus eyes widened.
He had dreamt of this day for years.
The day the Church would rise again. And here it was—finally, undeniably—unfolding before him. The boy in front of him wasn't just any stray heir. No, he bore the direct bloodline of the main family. And more than that, he carried two godhoods.
The Archbishop had felt the shift in the realms even before Astra stepped through the threshold. As a wielder of gravity and space, his senses extended far beyond the mundane; he could read subtle warps in the world like a scholar read texts. His attunement to the cosmos, enhanced by a personal relic woven with star mana, made him unusually sensitive to divine movement.
Yet nothing had prepared him for this. An artifact of the Goddess of Shadow herself—here, now—responding to a boy who was barely Rank One.
Incredible. Angels, in all their glory, would kill for a second godhood. Most spent decades searching for even one. And here stood a mortal, barely blooded, holding two.
As expected of the Last Heir… Satalus thought, a rare swell of awe blooming in his chest.
He praised inwardly
This wasn't coincidence. This was a divine scheme, and it was moving before his very eyes.
"My prince," Satalus said softly, "We are at your service. I am the current acting leader of the Church—as one of the senior Archbishops. The Pontiff seat has remained empty for many years, but… if needed, I will take up the mantle."
He lowered his head slightly, voice tinged with honest shame.
"This conversation remains between us. I regret to admit, I do not trust all my fellow Archbishops. Not anymore."
It seems the church's internal affairs are more precarious than thought. Interesting, just how zealous are these high ranking members? is it even real zeal? Could it simply be false faith thats driven by selfish desires fooling the masses? The gods are dead after all what divine retribution might there be? It's not like one of the newer churches of the Seraphs. Gods Im still too new to the workings of the upper echelons of society Astra sighed inwardly
Astra gave a slow nod. "That's to be expected," he said, almost casually. "Tell me… what exactly are godhoods?"