POV: Kael Lanpar
Panic still coursed through me, pounding in my mind without pause as I walked alongside Nova through the endless corridors of Noblezia Palace. Nothing felt right.
Perhaps it was the sudden shift in the atmosphere—from a sunny day to a torrential storm—or maybe it was the absence of sound within this place. That suffocating silence stalked us with every step, and I could hear my heart racing like a war drum.
Neither Nova nor I spoke a word. Not even small talk seemed possible under such a heavy atmosphere.
I sighed and tried to focus a faint flow of mana into my senses, searching for a way to see beyond the darkness. I failed.
All I perceived was the pounding of the rain outside and, through the towering windows, the people who still waited beneath the downpour for news of my father.
"They still wait with hope," I whispered, almost without realizing it. "Even the rain doesn't take away their will to keep waiting."
"Every citizen depends on your father's actions," Nova replied, his eyes fixed on the corridor ahead. "They can only hope for good news… even if, deep down, they know it won't come."
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was right. Humans cling to hope even when the odds are stacked against us.
We kept walking along the red carpet that draped over the marble floor, with no sense of how much time had passed. Nova's expression said everything: confusion and worry blended across his face, as though the palace itself were swallowing us whole.
And then I realized. The corridor was repeating itself. The crystal lamps, the paintings on the walls… every detail reappeared in the exact same place, as if we were walking inside a loop.
I turned toward Nova. His eyes mirrored the same suspicion gnawing at me: it was a trap.
The sound of bodies hitting the ground snapped me out of my thoughts.
Lying before us were my unconscious sister and Alfin, barely managing to stay on his feet.
Nova didn't hesitate. From the stones of the walls, gauntlets burst forth and fused with his arms, sharp spikes like claws sprouting from his knuckles.
"Damn… this hurts," Alfin groaned, clutching his abdomen as blood spilled between his fingers.
The red blinded me once more. My legs trembled, and I froze, as if the scene had chained me in its cruelty.
"Alfin, drag Mayrei toward us," Nova commanded. "Keep Kael safe."
I could hardly breathe. In the darkness, metallic blows echoed, multiplied, and sparks of fire lit up the silhouette of our attacker in fleeting flashes.
Nova clenched his jaw and slammed the ground. The entire corridor shook, and from the stone two copies of himself rose to stand at his side.
I felt a tug on my shirt. Alfin was dragging me backward. Even bleeding, even with his mouth stained red, he still wore that defiant grin that was his trademark.
"Looks like nothing went the way we wanted today," he muttered, his voice heavy with fatigue. "Kael… stay with me."
His body collapsed to his knees, but he raised a hand into the air. The wind condensed into floating daggers that spun around us, forming a shield.
A whistle cut through the air.
The symphony of death blended with the mist curling all around us, and I knew nothing about this would end well.
"Once upon a time, there was a little bird that could not fly," a voice emerged from the fog. In the distance, through the flames, the demonic smile of a fiend revealed itself. "Its broken wings gave it no hope of living."
He looked straight into my eyes.
"That bird had two choices: accept its fate… or try to escape inevitable death.
But both paths lead to the same end. Because a bird without wings is like a soldier without weapons: all that remains is the instinct to survive, and even then… it knows there is no escape."
Before I could respond, Nova had already launched himself into battle. In the darkness and the flames, two silhouettes danced to the rhythm of their weapons, the echo of their strikes resounding like a prophecy.
The stone soldiers still stood with us, but the moment they took a step toward their master, they were devoured.
Shadows surged from the mirrors of the corridor, seizing them and dragging them into the void. In a matter of seconds, they were gone—as if they had never existed at all.
The shattered fragments hit the ground with a dry echo, reminding us that this domain had rules of its own. We were no longer in reality.
I bit down hard on my lower lip, struggling to regain control. The metallic taste of blood spread across my tongue as I extended my hands and shaped an arc of electricity. A bluish spark lit up my face as I fixed my gaze on Alfin.
"Alfin, I need your help," I said, drawing back the string of my electric bow. "Can you still use your magic?"
"What are you plotting, Kael?" he answered, forcing himself upright. "I don't have much mana left… but it'll be enough."
"Perfect. Create a water projectile," I ordered, aiming toward the silhouette of our enemy.
Alfin obeyed. In his hand, a compressed spear of water took shape, vibrating with dangerous energy. I knew my magic alone wasn't strong enough for a direct fight, but if we combined our attacks… things might turn out differently.
I was just about to release the arrow when Nova's body was hurled straight toward us. The sheer violence of the impact forced me to undo the spell and dive to the ground alongside Alfin.
We crashed beside Mayrei, still unconscious, as a thunderous crash shook the hall when Nova slammed into the wall. He was out cold.
"Kael, watch out!" Alfin shouted.
The floating wind daggers shot toward me. Our attacker, just inches from my throat, suddenly recoiled with a sharp movement, as if an invisible hand had pulled him back.
"Well now…" the demon's silhouette dissolved into shadow, his voice carrying a cruel calm. "Even when you have no chance, you still fight to live. My respects… and my condolences."
The echo of his voice faded, and a sudden strike forced me to leap aside. The blade grazed my skin, leaving a thin line of blood running down my cheek.
Before my feet touched the ground, a hand clamped around my throat with inhuman strength. The air vanished from my lungs. I struggled to break free, but my arms felt like lead, and my eyes began to close.
Through the blur, I caught sight of Alfin rushing toward me. He tried to save me… but a sword slashed across his face, cutting him down. He fell, bleeding.
(Mental Space)
As air returned to my lungs and I realized where I was, I desperately searched for Kraidir. Leaning against the thick white bark of the tree where I sat, I screamed his name with all the strength I had left.
"Kraidir… damn it, show yourself!"
I was desperate, because the god who had sent me to this world showed no sign of being anywhere.
Fear swept over me—a coldness that paralyzed every limb until I could no longer move.
Breathing raggedly, I realized this might be the end. I wasn't dead yet, but I was unconscious, trapped between life and death. If I didn't wake soon, not only would I bleed out on the ground—innocent people would be dragged into their own deaths because of me.
"Damn god, show yourself and help me," I begged into the infinite void.
Tears of despair streamed down my cheeks as I slammed my bloodied fist against the ethereal ground, staining the white beneath me with lifeless red.
In that half-conscious state, I felt the cold edge of a weapon press against my neck. It grazed my skin, and warm red liquid began to spill.
The blade sank deeper and deeper into my throat. All I could feel was the sensation of dying, not knowing whether it was truly happening.
I could no longer stand. I was about to collapse when the butterflies returned, swirling into a small vortex that revealed a terrified Kraidir.
"This should never have happened," he whispered in anguish. "Damn it… I never should have left you alone."
Both his expression and his words left me utterly confused—enough to make me forget, for a moment, that I was dying.
I tried to take a step toward him, only to discover that the flow of my life was nearly gone. Stumbling over my own legs, I fell forward… only to be caught in Kraidir's arms.
With breath barely in my lungs, my head resting on Kraidir's shoulder, I could only curse my fate, knowing there might be no way out of this.
Slowly, my eyes began to close. I caught only a glimpse of those figures impaled on wooden stakes, drenched in blood—my own likenesses laughing in twisted joy.
With great effort, I raised my arm, reaching for my past—the only one not smiling at the vision. But the distance between us was too vast, and my strength slipped away.
"No, son… this cannot end like this…" The faint whisper reached me, though I could not tell whose voice it was.
My mind was no longer capable of thought. For brief moments, time and space ceased to hold meaning.
I felt my consciousness fading, aware that everything was being paid in full. I was about to bid this world farewell… if not for that red liquid I knew so well, once again staining my hands.
As if the spark of life had been reignited, I felt strength surge through my body, warmth returning along with the familiar ache that had consumed me.
My eyes snapped open. Still in Kraidir's embrace, I saw what had happened: my hand was buried in soft, warm flesh. I had pierced his chest.
In an instant, everything had reversed. The unshakable god who had accompanied me until now fell onto me, clutching at my clothes with the little strength he had left.
"I lost you… I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice fading.
There was more behind those words than they revealed. His grip tightened, not to save himself, but to make sure I listened.
Confused yet unwilling to hesitate, I slowly lowered him onto the endless floor of light, as though he had always known his life was never meant to last.
For reasons I could not explain, I took his hand, feeling pity and sorrow.
I didn't understand why I wept for him in this state—until the memories came. Losing my father in my previous life had devastated me, and that grief returned now, identical, like a wound torn open again.
"Son… I love you," he said, as the light faded from his eyes. "I always have. I don't blame you. Your choices came from pain, not malice."
The word son froze me. At once, I understood who was before me. As if a mask had fallen, Kraidir's face became my father's.
Every feeling I had held since meeting him rushed back, reminding me he had always been with me, reliving it all once more.
"Da… Dad, no… you can't leave me again…" I cried, gripping his hand tighter. "What have I done?"
I wanted to say so much more, but I had never been able to say goodbye to the ones I loved. I was the one who caused the end of those who had always stayed beside me.
On my knees, my head pressed to my father's chest, I sobbed uncontrollably, while the laughter of my soul and my present self echoed—reminding me I was still the same murderer as always.
As my father's blood spread across that ethereal place that had always represented hope, I knew I was on the verge of waking.
The trembling of my teeth and body, born of rage, consumed me. I could only unleash a scream at the blood-red moon rising above, feeling the same thirst for vengeance I had once sworn never to repeat.
(Reality)
In mere seconds, my eyes shot open, consciousness surging back as I seized the blade that was about to behead me.
I shattered it instantly, feeling the shards drive into my hands.
My attacker's face froze as he watched his weapon brutally destroyed by my bare hands, forcing him to step back in shock.
"I thought I had already killed you, boy…" he muttered in disbelief. "What's wrong with your eyes?"
Without answering, I pulled a fragment of the sword from my hand and caught my reflection. Blood-red, lifeless eyes stared back at me.
A twisted smile spread across my face, reminding me why I had once thirsted for the blood of everyone I hated.
Heat boiled in my body, laced with the intoxicating rush of power I had never known before. I felt lighter, impossibly fast, and—for some reason—more certain of myself.
As if my body had lived its entire life with that power forged from hatred, it reacted automatically.
Skulls born of an infernal fire—one that pierced through reality itself—burst from the ground, carving craters as they emerged. Their flames burned with an unquenchable blaze, surging straight toward their target.
While my attacker leapt backward, my body moved on its own. I walked forward with deliberate calm, as the skulls pursued him until they finally reached their mark. The resulting explosion ended in a strangled cry.
When the smoke cleared, it revealed the wingless bird. Now missing both arms, he dragged himself away from me, clawing at the ground.
"In the end, you couldn't finish flying," I whispered, making sure he could hear me.
The crunch of his skull shattering beneath the weight of my foot was what snapped me back to the sanity I had lost.
Realizing what I had done, I could no longer contain myself. I collapsed to my knees, staring at my bloodstained hands—an endless cycle I kept trying to break.
Once again, the tears returned to me. The illusionist's loop—the trap meant to kill me—shattered, revealing a reality where I was the only one left standing, my mother's worried cries echoing from afar.
With trembling lips and an emotional void tearing me apart, I could only whisper:
"What have I done?"
POV: Xavier Lanpar
On the other side of the palace, I could sense things were going terribly wrong. Through the storm, growing fiercer with every bolt of lightning, I saw deep within the eye of the tempest—the darkness that was about to emerge.
Walking the vast corridors of Noblezia Palace, surrounded by clan leaders, I could only curse fate for what it had brought.
Clutching the hilt of my sword with inhuman force, we passed the palace balcony, receiving the sting of the rain and the blinding flashes of thunder that illuminated the clouded view.
"I want the ones I name to follow me," I ordered, my voice carrying the bite of cold steel. "Not a single word about the demon in Forjador is to leave this place… or the consequences will be severe."
My threat made some swallow hard, retreating under the doorway's cover to avoid the pounding rain.
"Marquians, Luis, and Rengar—come with me!" I shouted, my voice carried by the heavens themselves, answered by a lightning strike.
I felt astral magic expanding through my body, wrapped in fear and the desperate illusion that this might not escalate further. My body rose into the air, lifted by the roaring winds.
The others followed my example, summoning their own means of flight to cross toward the dwarven borders.
Soaring through the immensity of the sky, I could only look down with sorrow at those who trusted me—hiding under rooftops, still waiting for words from me they believed would bring hope.
But guilt devoured me. If the threat of a continental war was real, it would only plunge our kingdom into deeper chaos. The families who had followed the Lanpars for generations—bound by our ideology—would begin to doubt their faith.
I lowered my head, ashamed of how powerless I felt. I was the most powerful man in my kingdom—perhaps the entire continent—but even I knew my limits.
A battle between me and a Reaper would only end in devastation, with countless needless deaths.
Without thinking further, I surged forward at full speed, briefly shattering the sound barrier. At my side, Luis—with his crystalline armor and wings—kept pace.
As we dodged the bolts that tore from the heavens, maneuvering through the storm, our thoughts lingered on our families.
For brief moments, I saw each of their faces—smiling at me, begging me to save them… and to abandon the role of king.
"I can't do it," I whispered, my voice just loud enough for Luis to hear.
"Not since the Human-Elf War have I seen you like this, Xavier," my father-in-law exclaimed. "Talking to yourself isn't like you."
"No, it isn't," I admitted. "Sometimes… I just wish I were alone. I hate carrying so many lives on my shoulders."
"It seems our intruder is waiting for us," Rengar said, still sprinting through the air. "Two hooded figures. They don't appear to be armed."
It only took a few seconds for my suspicions to be confirmed.
Those hooded figures, wearing twisted smiles, were Reapers—soulless beings who had sacrificed their very essence in exchange for power.
Each of them alone was strong enough to kill a Broker. No conventional mage could ever stand against them. The balance had never been in our favor.
As my feet touched the soil of the towering mountains rising in the north of our kingdom, I walked forward with a confidence I did not truly possess.
I stopped at a safe distance. My thoughts carried me back to the past, to my mother's words:
"That child will be born among the ashes of a devastated world. Carrying his soul across time and space, he will bring with him the fire of chaos, closing a cycle that will change the world forever."
For years, I searched for the one destined to destroy our continent, sacrificing much of my life in an effort to save our people. I never found him.
And on that day, when the curtains fell and Mayora was revealed to the world, all I had left was the chance to beg forgiveness—for failing to save them.
"What do you want, soulless beings?" I shouted, unsheathing my sword.
The echoing silence rang in my ears, reminding me that I was never in control.
"Watch your tongue, dead blood," one of them barked. "You've been hiding for so long you've forgotten who your true rulers are."
"You are slaves," the other one laughed. "Pigs on leashes, waiting for your masters."
I froze as Rengar, blinded by rage, lunged at them… only to stop dead in his tracks in the blink of an eye, without ever reaching them.
Heat surged through my veins, demanding I react, demanding I strike. But I knew well that if I did, the only one left standing would be me.
"How pitiful… this shouldn't have happened so soon," one of them said, drawing my attention. "It would've been better if you had lived to watch your home burn."
"Consider this mercy," he continued.
In his hand, he held Rengar's still-beating heart. With a single squeeze, he crushed it.
Before I could move, Rengar collapsed to the ground, a gaping hole in his chest, his life bleeding away. His blood painted the mountain snow red.
My vision blurred, my senses dulled. All I could hear—faint and distant—were Luis's desperate cries for me to fight back.
But I could do nothing. I could only watch as the Reaper leaned close to my ear, whispering while placing an hourglass into my hands:
"The ashes of your people have already begun to fall. When no more tears remain, you will know we are coming."