The desert wind whispered against the canvas of their tent, carrying with it the scent of sand and ash from battles not yet forgotten. Kael sat by the embers of a dying fire, staring at the Ruyi Jingu Bang across his lap. The staff was whole now, the gold inlaid designs catching flickers of firelight — yet its weight in his hands felt heavier than steel.
Sena stepped out from the shadows, her twin chakrams slung loosely over her back. She didn't speak at first, only watched him as the fire popped and hissed.
"You've been staring at that thing for hours," she finally said.
Kael didn't look up. "Feels like I should be doing more with it."
"You will," she replied, crouching across from him. "But I think we need to go back to Egypt."
That made him glance up. "Egypt?"
"To see my father," she said. "Last time was… rushed. Now, he needs to know what we've learned about Ottalaus. And he might know someone who can guide us to our next move."
Kael ran a thumb along the staff's smooth surface, considering. "Alright. Egypt it is."
————
The Return to Luxor
The voyage took them across the Nile's winding spine, the river reflecting the burnished glow of the setting sun. By the time they reached Luxor, the air was thick with spice and heat, the streets alive with traders calling in half a dozen languages.
The Ennead's Sanctum rose above the city like a monument carved from the desert itself — sandstone walls etched with hieroglyphs that seemed to shift under the fading light. Guards in ceremonial armor stepped aside as Sena approached.
Inside, the corridors were cool and dim, their silence broken only by the echo of sandals against stone.
Amon emerged from a side chamber, tall and imposing, the Eye of Ra cradled in one palm like a miniature sun. His eyes softened at the sight of his daughter. "Sena."
She embraced him briefly before stepping aside. "Father… Kael."
Amon studied Kael for a moment, his gaze falling on the staff. "The Ruyi Jingu Bang — complete. I see now why you walk with such burden."
"We're looking for the next step," Kael said. "And how to stop Ottalaus before he makes his next move."
Amon's brow furrowed. "Then you'll need more than strength. You'll need direction. There is a seer here, one whose visions have steered relic bearers through history. She may know the path ahead."
————
The Seer of the Edge
They found the seer at the far edge of the market district, where the smell of cumin and incense hung heavy in the air. His tent was plain, save for a strip of green cloth at the entrance.
Inside, the air was cooler, lit by the glow of oil lamps. The man sat cross-legged behind a low table, his hood casting his face in shadow. Before him lay a shallow bowl filled with black sand.
"You seek what comes next," he said before either of them spoke. His voice was low, almost melodic. "But your road is not here. The winds carry whispers from the islands to the south, where the sea cradles many nations."
Sena frowned. "The islands?"
"A gathering is coming — warriors, leaders, sovereigns. They will meet to decide the balance of power. If Ottalaus' shadow stretches across the seas, it will fall there."
Kael exchanged a glance with Sena, then nodded slowly. "Where?"
"The Philippines," the seer replied without hesitation. "Go there, and you will find what you seek."
They thanked him and left, neither noticing the faint rooted tree emblem stitched on the inside of his sleeve — the mark of Yggdrasil's Order.
————
Arrival in Manila – ASEAN Relics Summit
Manila's air was thick with the mingled scent of saltwater, diesel, and street food from stalls lining the coastal roads. The summit's venue sat at the edge of Manila Bay, a sprawling fortress-like complex draped in banners from across Southeast Asia.
Inside, the grand hall was a riot of color and steel — relics and their bearers standing shoulder to shoulder, each radiating an aura of barely contained power.
At the center of the Philippine delegation stood Juan Dela Cruz, broad-shouldered and unshakable, the Kris of Apolaki sheathed at his hip. The golden light it gave off seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, a quiet reminder of the god of war's stamina flowing through him.
Beside him stood Princess Talea "Cess", the Spear of Tala resting across her back. Its tip shimmered faintly like a distant star, the cosmic energy within pulsing gently.
From Japan came Suzume of the Shinto Sect, her black-and-crimson robes flowing like ink in water. The Kusanagi of Amaterasu was strapped at her side, and even sheathed, it radiated the gentle but dangerous warmth of divine fire.
Her guardian, Shinichi, stood at her flank — a silent sentinel with the Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi, its edge humming with the storm of Susanoo.
Korea's Seong Moon Sect was led by Jeong-hwi, pale ash swirling at his feet, the Ashes of King Yeomra moving like living sand. His assistant, Lee Jin-ah, carried the Flute of Sanshin at her waist, her eyes sharp and observant.
From Thailand came Chalermchai, his arms clad in the Golden Plumes of Garuda, each feather glinting in the light.
From Indonesia, Sri Mahadewi, her Trident of Baruna shimmering with seawater that dripped and vanished into steam.
From Vietnam, Nguyen Bao, the Jade Seal of the Dragon Emperor glowing faintly as phantom dragons coiled around his shoulders.
From Malaysia, Raja Muda Ibrahim, the Keris of Hang Tuah at his side, the blade's edge reflecting an almost ethereal clarity.
Kael and Sena entered quietly, drawing a few curious stares. They were outsiders here, unknown in this political storm.
Juan Dela Cruz's voice cut through the murmur. "We gather not only to show strength, but to bind it together. The shadow we face is not yet in these halls… but it will be. And when it comes, we must stand as one."
Sena leaned close to Kael, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think the seer sent us here for this?"
Kael's eyes moved over the delegations, lingering on the glances — some friendly, some calculating. "No," he murmured. "I think we're here because someone wants us in the middle of this."