Past midnight, Orcamp remained in his study, face buried in his hands.
He replayed every word from dinner—had he misspoken? Provoked Teraze? What repercussions would his words have?
This exhausting ritual was necessary. Until he secured a card to oppose the Empress, caution was paramount.
A voice spoke from the shadows.
???: "You called for me, Your Majesty?"
A man in his mid-thirties emerged—slender eyes curved like a smile, seven piercings lining his ears.
Morgan Arius.
Known to the world as the "Grave Robber," a mage and Unlocker who had awakened the Immortal Function.
One of the Seven Dark Mages affiliated with the Black Line, he was scouted by the Kazura Kingdom five years ago due to his mastery of Scale Magic.
Unlike the Red Line, the Black Line had no formal association, meaning no official ranks or hierarchy existed.
Some, like the Seven Dark Mages, formed organized groups, while others, like the grave robber Arius, operated independently. Most were criminals pursued by nations.
Though some mages defected from the Red Line to the Black Line, they were insignificant compared to the mass murderers who thrived there.
Anyone with even a modest reputation in the Black Line had a bounty starting in the hundreds of millions, prompting some Red Line guilds to specialize in hunting them.
Nations associated with the Black Line faced international criticism, but given Kazura's political situation, they had no choice.
Despite ending their civil war through a political marriage with Teraze, Kazura remained unstable.
Neighboring nations wouldn't allow Kazura to grow unchecked, and internally, they had to appease Teraze's faction.
Given foreign pressure, it was only natural for Orcamp to reach out to the Black Line when strengthening the Red Line proved difficult.
Orcamp: "What is the status of the task I assigned?"
Arius (smirking): "Completed without issue. Most of the classified intel has been extracted. Teraze won't notice a thing."
Orcamp: "Good."
Arius: "Now, we proceed to the next phase. After observing him, I must say—he's quite the specimen. Truly Your Highness's son."
Orcamp exhaled bitterly. The irony was laughable—he had coldly abandoned his son years ago, only to retrieve him now that he was useful.
Arius offered a serpentine smile.
Arius: "Don't worry. It's not like we're killing him. There'll be no problems."
Orcamp (grimacing): "The boy… said he would leave the royal capital."
Arius's slit-like eyes flickered open, pupils gleaming like starlight.
Arius: "I see. Well, Unlockers have little interest in worldly affairs. They chase only the strange, the wondrous—things just out of reach."
Orcamp (dryly): "Like you, then?"
Arius was known as the Grave Robber, but his targets weren't gold or jewels.
Arius: "Something like that. Regardless, nothing changes. Shirone isn't the priority—Ataraxia is."
Orcamp's face twisted. Why did it have to be that child? No—this was an opportunity. If he missed it now, he'd never escape Teraze's grasp.
He could never forget the humiliation she inflicted after their marriage. Nightmares left him drenched in sweat, waking in terror.
After crushing his spirit, she left like the wind, planting only two obstacles in her wake: Zion and Wuorin.
Teraze planned to devour the world.
One of her key projects was Valkyrie, a multinational army assembled to oppose Heaven.
With 24 nations participating, Valkyrie could annihilate a small kingdom in three days—and Teraze led it.
Kazura's rapid growth over the past 20 years was solely due to inheriting a portion of Valkyrie's influence.
But Orcamp knew it wouldn't last. Zion was growing stronger—and his surname was Teraze, not Orcamp.
Eventually, she would consume Kazura, just as she had consumed him.
Then, intelligence arrived:
A student at Tormia's Magic Academy had wielded Heaven's power.
Investigations revealed the shocking truth—it was Shirone, the child he'd abandoned 18 years ago.
Orcamp felt as if Heaven itself had intervened.
Even within Valkyrie, only a handful could wield Heaven's power.
Experts claimed Ataraxia was an Archangel's ability, classified as Triple-S-tier.
In Valkyrie's history, not a single person had ever reached that level.
And Shirone—his own flesh and blood—possessed it.
If he could install Shirone as Crown Prince, he'd finally have a weapon against Teraze.
Not only would his standing in Valkyrie strengthen, but he might even expel Teraze's bloodline from Kazura's palace.
Finally resolved, Orcamp asked:
Orcamp: "Can you replicate Ataraxia?"
Arius (grinning): "It's my specialty. Leave it to me."
Orcamp: "I don't wish to harm the boy. Let him live as he desires."
A lie, of course.
The only reason he summoned Shirone was to use Ataraxia against Teraze.
But Shirone's existence also risked provoking her wrath.
Copying Ataraxia and sending Shirone away was the safest option—or better yet, never summoning him at all.
When Arius learned of Ataraxia, he infiltrated Alpheas Magic Academy—but the Black Box had already been destroyed.
Now, Shirone was the only one in the world who could wield it.
Orcamp: "If Shirone refuses the throne, I won't force him. But we must have Ataraxia."
Arius (nodding): "Don't worry. Let me meet him tomorrow before the paternity test."
Orcamp (skeptical): "A paternity test? All the ministers will be watching. We can't tamper with royal blood verification."
Arius: "Of course not. I won't interfere. But before the test… opportunities arise, no?"
Orcamp nodded. The test itself was tightly controlled, but before it, he could approach Shirone discreetly.
Orcamp: "I'll trust you, then."
Arius: "Rest easy. All will go well."
With that, Arius dissolved like smoke—a trademark of Scale Magic users.
The study door suddenly opened, and Eliza entered, her face was pale—she must have overheard.
Eliza (pleading): "Husband, it's about our son. Whatever you're planning, don't endanger him!"
Orcamp: "There's no need to worry. It's merely… a political matter. Return to your chambers."
Eliza (desperate): "How can I not worry? Do you feel no guilt? Don't hurt him again!"
Orcamp's expression darkened.
Orcamp: "Guilt? Had we not abandoned him, Kazura would be Yakma's vassal. I'd have been beheaded, and you—a plaything for foreign officials. Is that what you wanted?"
Eliza shuddered. As a defeated royal, she knew exactly what fate awaited her.
She would never endure that.
Silently, she retreated. She would keep her life of luxury—she had no intention of relinquishing her throne.
14 kilometers from Kazura's palace, in the village of Toshka, the Eternal Observer, Armin the Luminous, carried out a secret mission—while still working as a painter.
Though blind, the light in his hollow eyes allowed him to see the world's hidden truths.
His charcoal scraped across the canvas, lines jagged with unease.
'Shirone…'
Lately, Shirone's name dominated conversations in the underworld.
At first, Armin had been proud reading about him in Spirit Magazine—his talent was finally shining.
But when he recognized the magic circle in the article, he was horrified.
However Shirone obtained an Archangel's power, it had drawn the attention of world leaders.
And now, intel confirmed Shirone had been summoned to Kazura.
Orcamp's long-lost son.
If true, Kazura's move was brilliant—but for Shirone, it is deadly one.
Kazura was under the influence of Teraze, Valkyrie's leader and Empress of the Kashan Empire.
For an unfinished mage like Shirone, this was a current too vast to survive.
Keira (entering with groceries): "Busy day, yet you're not painting?"
Officially his wife, in truth, she was his watcher. Seeing him lost in thought, she frowned.
Armin (distracted): "Hm? Oh."
He hurriedly picked up the charcoal, but Keira wasn't fooled.
Keira (coldly): "You're not thinking of doing something reckless, are you?"
Armin's hand froze.
Armin: "Reckless?"
Keira: "About Shirone. We're to observe, not interfere. Higher-ups ordered us to wait for Kazura's decision."
Armin threw the charcoal down and stood.
Armin: "Kazura's tied to the Black Line. You know their power better than anyone. Shirone's too important—by the time a 'decision' is made, it'll be too late!"
Keira (firm): "No. The Black Line is off-limits. Leave this to the Red Line."
Armin: "You don't understand! They took Shirone because—"
Keira (icy): "Armin. This is an order from your superior, not a comrade. Defy me, and I'll invoke the Oath Pact."
Armin glared, but Keira held her ground.
The Oath Pact meant harm would come to his loved ones—including Siana.
The light beneath his bandages flared coldly, making Keira shiver.
But she couldn't back down.
The Black Line and their faction had avoided conflict for 40 years. Disrupting that balance now would bring catastrophe.
Armin sighed and walked to the window. Winter was coming, yet the sun still burned fiercely.
Armin (softly): "So this is how it'll be?"
Keira (forcing calm): "I have no choice. It's my duty."
She hated this—as a mage who revered the pinnacle of Time Magic, she didn't want to restrain him.
But the Oath Pact was absolute.
Armin (coldly): "Your duty is to shackle me?"
Keira (pained): "Yes! Curse me if you want, but you're going nowhere until orders change!"
Armin's breathing turned bestial, and Keira clutched the Oath Pact in her pocket.
In a one-on-one fight, she was at a disadvantage—but the Pact was her trump card.
Armin (exhaling): "...Too cruel."
He walked to the table, gently touching a flower trapped in a vase.
A plucked flower, caged in glass.
Was he any different?
Armin (quietly): "Keira…"
She softened, stepping closer.
Keira: "Armin, I'm sorry, but—"
Armin: "No one chains me."
With that, he swept the vase to the floor.
Keira's eyes flicked down—
—and in that split second, time froze.
The shattered vase hovered mid-air.
Keira stood petrified, unable to move.
And Armin?
He's gone.