As Lloyd carved his path toward a new fate, other shadows stirred in the hidden depths... shadows that watched, plotted, and smiled with malevolent glee.
✦
In a realm beyond the bounds of time and space... colors faded into oblivion, leaving only the absolute void. At its heart sat the Masked One in an eerie calm, upon a throne as black as if forged from the shadows themselves. Before him stretched a colossal chessboard, reaching to the horizon, its pieces moving with languid autonomy.
He raised his gloved hand, cloaked in ebony, and shifted the king piece with effortless grace, a sly smile curling his lips. Each move was a decree of destiny, reshaping the fates of mortals like clay in his grasp. His voice rumbled deep, laced with the arrogance of one who deemed himself above existence itself:
"This is life... a chessboard where mortals delude themselves with freedom, yet the truth is they are mere pieces... pieces I maneuver at my whim."
The piece's clash against the board echoed like thunder in the emptiness.
"The world is ruled by corruption... the strong crush the weak, the rich scorn the poor. But if this is the state of things, does it not crave a single hand to govern it? One soul alone... possessing intellect, power, and might?"
He stepped forward toward the board, his shadows unfurling like a beast of black smoke.
"To claim this world... I must wield my mind to its very last drop."
He paused, lifting the white king piece, gazing upon it with eyes ablaze in cunning intellect and towering hubris, his voice a sacred vow:
"And that... is precisely what I shall do."
With his other hand, he tore the fabric of spacetime like shattering glass, light erupting around him. In the instant he vanished, his laughter echoed—a cold, inhuman in its chill. It promised the world its impending fall under his dominion.
The scene shifted abruptly—revealing the Half-Beast tribe, a warm village cradled by lush forests, where birdsong wove the symphony of daily life. Yuki carried a basket of wheat alongside the villagers, her face alight with a smile despite the fatigue, the morning breeze dancing through her snow-white hair.
But her keen ears caught a whisper behind her:
"Have you heard the latest news?!" "Yes! It was utterly mad!" "Wait, what news are you talking about?"
Yuki halted, her eyes brimming with curiosity, her heart an odd lightness. One villager replied to the other with exaggerated fervor:
"They say a fierce battle erupted in the royal capital! Between that boy... Lloyd, and one of the kingdom's soldiers!"
Yuki froze, whispering in a hoarse, barely audible voice:
"L-Lloyd?! Did they say Lloyd?!"
Her fingers trembled as they gripped the basket, a tide of worry flooding her heart—a potent brew of fear, pride, and astonishment.
"What... did he really do that?!" Yet despite her words, she couldn't hide the small smile blooming on her lips.
One villager continued:
"It seems he lost the fight... passed out after a grueling battle, but they say he displayed unnatural power!"
Another, arms crossed in admiration, added:
"Hmm, that boy is truly evolving... Who knows, perhaps one day he'll achieve something legendary."
Yuki paused her work, gazing skyward. A strange sensation washed over her—not just worry, but a fierce intuition that this youth would not stop here.
"Lloyd... you're no ordinary soul, are you?"
She recalled their conversation, his words brimming with resolve, his gaze fearless. Gently, she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat quicken.
"Please... return safely."
A sudden gust swept through, carrying a crimson leaf that fluttered to her feet, as if the world itself whispered a cryptic secret. Meanwhile, in a distant realm, threads were pulled from the shadows—by the Masked One.
And the world, unbeknownst to all... began transforming into a grand chessboard, awaiting only the first piece to propel toward its endgame.
The royal capital lay shrouded in heavy silence, as if the entire city held its breath in anticipation of an unknown dawn or a storm on the horizon. Beneath the pallid evening sun, Lloyd passed grand gates, his steps steady over the cobblestones still warm from the day's heat. On his shoulder rested his father's black sword, sheathed in its ancient scabbard, yet its gleam pierced the gaps like a restless spirit refusing repose.
Eyes followed him everywhere. Soldiers at the gate, merchants in the streets, children who ceased their play—all murmured his name in hushed tones, as if afraid he'd hear, yet unable to tear their gazes away.
"It's him... the boy from the royal battle..." "What's with him? Is he alright?" "Look at that sword... Is it a royal blade?"
Each whisper pierced the air like a needle. But Lloyd pressed on without reply, his eyes burning with a resolve unseen in one so young. His steps were heavy with exhaustion, yet laden with unyielding determination—as if each one turned a fresh page in his epic saga.
As he walked a quiet street leading to the castle, a soft, warm voice called out:
"What, is that Lloyd?"
He turned to see Olivia at the crossroads, her hair whipping in the gentle wind, her serene smile illuminating the scene like a ghost from an undying past. She approached with slow steps, her tone a blend of surprise:
"You've returned... I thought you were still in your village!"
Lloyd offered a faint smile, replying with mature calm:
"I wanted to see the capital before embarking on my true journey."
They exchanged brief glances, pregnant with a thousand unspoken words. Then, in a serious tone, he asked:
"Where is Cain?" Olivia answered:
"He's occupied, meeting with the emperor and army leaders. A great war looms on the horizon... a war between the human kingdoms and the demon realms. All lands will feel the flames this time."
Silence fell between them for a fleeting moment, broken only by the city's labored breaths. Then Lloyd reached into his pocket, producing a letter sealed with a strange silver emblem, and handed it to her. She eyed him questioningly:
"A letter? What is this, Lloyd?"
He gave a cryptic smile, then said:
"When you see Cain... give him this. He'll know its meaning."
Before she could respond, he turned away, waving a hand with a low, resolute voice:
"I must go... Until we meet again, thank you, Lady Olivia."
Olivia stood rooted, staring at the letter as the wind tousled her hair. She sensed it was no mere words... but a gateway to a new destiny that would unfold for all.
✦
Meanwhile, in the command hall of the royal castle, Cain stood before a massive map sprawled across the table. Generals and ministers gathered around him, red and blue flags marking the edges. Fingers darted, placing small tokens for armies, positions, and borders. Eyes watched intently, the air thick with tension, as if every breath bore the weight of an entire nation.
Cain had not yet spoken. He studied the map in silence, shadows from the windows etching lines across his sharp features. It was as if time itself awaited his words to resume its march.
✦
Outside, Lloyd departed the castle, treading the path toward the northern forests. He muttered to himself in a low voice:
"Very well... since we're here, let's head to the Half-Monster tribe. I must bid them farewell... they've been true friends to me."
His eyes turned to the horizon where black clouds gathered. The wind was chill, heralding a storm, but it did not unsettle him—instead, he seemed to inhale it with strange eagerness, as if the omen of war lured him closer.
✦
And on the world's far side, in the heart of the Demon Citadel, another council convened—different in nature, yet driven by the same purpose: war.
The chamber was dim, pierced by violet flames flickering from towering stone pillars. The Demon King lounged on his throne of blackened bones, his eyes gleaming like frozen blood. Before him stood a line of generals, each a terrifying force unto himself.
One spoke in mocking tones:
"My lord... we prepare for war, but some believe the leadership squanders our strength in needless waiting."
In a heartbeat, a sharp sound sliced the air. The soldier's head tumbled to the marble floor, rolling like a broken doll. Agnes stood tall, her eyes blazing with fury, her sword dripping blood.
"Any who dare speak above their station... shall meet the same end."
Silence blanketed the hall once more. Then the Demon King's voice rose, deep as thunder:
"Quiet... the era of empty words draws to a close."
He rose from his throne, a confident smile gracing his face.
"Have you not realized yet?... I saw through you long ago."
The sky behind him rent asunder, and the Masked One emerged through a rift in the darkness, his voice a whisper of death:
"Good, good... I awaited how this council would unfold. But frankly... I'm growing bored. War approaches, my friend—prepare for a theater of blood."
The Demon King chuckled lowly, glancing over his shoulder:
"Worry not... with you as my ally, victory is ours."
The Masked One's laughter pierced the walls, deep and icy, sending even the fiercest generals into dread. The Demon King merely offered a pride-fueled grin, his eyes smoldering with faint fire as he replied like a vow:
"Let us see, then... who shall master this board."
The shadows faded, but the laughter's echo lingered... thundering through the citadel and the world's depths, a herald of an unstoppable beginning.
And that night,
Lloyd reached the outskirts of the Half-Monster tribe.
Yuki spotted him from afar, crying out in shock, tears welling:
> "What... Lloyd?! Oh, welcome back, Lloyd!"
The villagers gathered around him in joy, as he spoke with warm, melancholic tones:
> "I know our time together was brief...
but I was truly happy to have friends like you."
A moment of silence fell, before Yuki asked in a trembling voice:
> "Will you return?"
He stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder with a genuine smile, his eyes reflecting light and destiny intertwined:
> "Of course... that's a promise."
The wind whispered between them, carrying tree leaves, as if etching his words into nature's memory.
And on the horizon, the moon began to rise—a witness to the dawn of a new chapter in Lloyd's legend.
{End of Chapter Fifteen}