Morning arrived gently within Wilfred's domain.
The sky shimmered with hues of gold and silver, reflecting across the calm surface of the waters that surrounded the open plains. A thin veil of mist drifted lazily, soft ripples carrying the faint whisper of the wind. Peace hung heavy in the air — so fragile that even a whisper could shatter it.
Leofric stood by the water's edge, arms folded, watching Olivia with mild disbelief. To him, she was just a child — bright-eyed, barefoot, and far too small to carry the weight of destiny. Beside her, Edith cheered softly, though her unsure glance betrayed her own uncertainty.
A few paces away, Wilfred observed them in silence. The air seemed to still around him, as though even nature itself listened when he breathed.
"Your training begins today," Wilfred said, his calm voice echoing over the water. "Not with strength, nor with weapons — but with understanding. Power means nothing if your spirit wavers."
Olivia blinked, puzzled. "So… I just stand here?"
A small smile touched his lips. "For now. Feel the air. Listen to the rhythm of the water. Don't think — just be."
Leofric sighed. "This doesn't look like training."
Without turning, Wilfred replied, "You train your sword. She trains her soul. They are not the same."
Olivia frowned slightly, then closed her eyes. For a while, nothing happened — only the gentle rustling of grass.
Then something shifted. The wind thickened, the air humming faintly. Olivia's hands trembled. Somewhere deep within her, something stirred — restless, alive, reaching to be set free.
"I… I can feel it," she whispered.
Wilfred nodded. "Good. Don't fight it. Let it flow."
But her excitement burst uncontrolled. Energy surged through her like a storm — wild and unbridled. The water erupted upward, a wave of raw power crashing over the shore. Edith shrieked and hid behind Leofric, who stood drenched, blinking in disbelief.
"I didn't mean to—" Olivia gasped.
Wilfred raised a steady hand. "Control comes with calm. Power obeys those who listen, not those who command."
She inhaled shakily, then again, slower this time. Her fingers loosened. Her heartbeat steadied. The world seemed to breathe with her. The rippling water stilled, then began to glow faintly around her feet.
Soft motes of light rose, swirling around her like fireflies. She stood motionless, eyes closed, serene — as if she finally understood. The water moved in quiet harmony, reflecting her calm spirit.
"She's awakening," Wilfred murmured, almost in awe.
Leofric stepped forward, speechless. "By the gods…"
"Her spirit," Wilfred said quietly, "answers the call of destiny."
The light pulsed once — then faded. Only gentle ripples remained.
Olivia opened her eyes, her breathing steady. For a brief moment, her reflection in the water shifted — showing not her face, but something vast and dark stirring beneath, a shadow from another realm.
None of them noticed.
Wilfred's gaze lingered on the lake a moment longer. His calm expression hardened faintly.
"This is only the beginning," he said.
---
Meanwhile — Beneath Osric
Far below the radiant surface of the kingdom, Lucifer and Morvain journeyed into the dark.
The dungeon lay buried deep beneath Osric — sealed under layers of stone and bound by ancient enchantments that twisted like living shadows. No mortal could find it. Only those tied to Lucifer by power or curse could walk those paths, for the halls themselves moved and shifted, veiling the way from uninvited eyes.
As they descended, the air grew colder. The walls dripped with black moisture, runes pulsing faintly as though whispering secrets. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint echo of their footsteps.
Morvain's crimson cloak brushed the walls as he followed. "This place… it wasn't here before."
Lucifer's tone was calm, almost casual. "It has always been here. You simply lacked the sight to see it."
Morvain's frown deepened. "You've changed since the battle."
Lucifer smiled faintly, his voice a low echo in the gloom. "That's because I am not your master."
Morvain's steps faltered — though only briefly. "I knew the moment you began to speak differently," he said quietly. "The air around you… it felt heavier."
Lucifer gave a soft laugh. "You're cleverer than I expected."
"And you're not afraid I might turn against you?" Morvain asked.
"If you did," Lucifer replied, "the dungeon would gladly take you before I could."
They continued in silence.
The deeper they went, the more the world above seemed to fade — as if time itself hesitated to exist here. Soon they reached an immense archway carved into the mountain's core, its black surface veined with threads of dull crimson light. Chains hung from above, swaying though there was no wind. The ground trembled faintly as they stepped closer.
Beyond the arch lay the heart of the dungeon — a vast chamber of shadow and stone, echoing with an energy that seemed both alive and ancient. The air was thick, humming with something unseen.
Lucifer slowed his pace, the faintest smirk touching his lips. "Welcome to the cradle of creation," he murmured. "Or destruction. The two are not so different."
Morvain said nothing, though unease crept into his chest. His pulse quickened as they moved past a towering obsidian throne that loomed in the center of the chamber. Beyond it, a narrow door waited — black, silent, almost breathing.
Lucifer stopped before it. "We're here."
Without another word, he reached for the door. It opened at his touch with a whispering groan.
A wave of cold air poured out — sharp enough to bite the skin.
Lucifer stepped through first. Morvain followed closely behind… and froze.
The moment his eyes adjusted to the darkness within, his breath caught. His pupils widened; his body stiffened. He stumbled backward, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Whatever he saw — it was enough to drain the color from his face.
His lips parted, but no sound came out.
Lucifer turned slowly, his voice quiet and unreadable. "Do you understand now why even kings tremble?"
Morvain fell to his knees, still staring — his hands trembling.