Zack's eyes blazed with fury, his body lunging forward as if to chase her into the void. But Sereh's arm caught him — strong, unyielding, a wall of resolve. He spun, yanking free, his voice a snarl. "I didn't need your help!"
Sereh's voice softened, yet steel rang beneath it. "I came to save you." Her posture was rigid, but pain flickered in her gaze, a wound deeper than any blade.
Zack spat blood, his words jagged with rage. "You bitch… ever since you started dating my brother, Zehron, everything changed. You twisted him — and now you act like you're innocent."
Tears shimmered in Sereh's eyes, fragile yet defiant. "It wasn't his fault. I only… I tried to protect you both. I know you're worried about your powers. Your powers… I will keep them secret."
Zack's laugh was bitter, a broken sound. "Protect me? Keep my powers secret? After all this?"
Keal stirred weakly, shadows flickering around him. He thought — with grim astonishment — that this was the first time he had ever seen Zack so consumed by anger.
With trembling hands, Sereh drew a scroll case from her robe. She opened it, revealing parchment glowing faintly, etched with runes of binding.
"This," she whispered, her voice low but resolute, "is a contract of warding. If I betray this vow, I die by its terms."
She extended the scroll and a quill inscribed with sigils. Zack's hands shook as he took it. Ink met parchment. The runes flared, blazing like fire, sealing the pact in unbreakable light.
He folded the scroll and hurled it aside, his voice cold as iron. "Don't think this makes us allies."
Sereh nodded, wounded pride shimmering in her eyes. "I understand."
They stood there — ragged, bloodied, suspended between trust and betrayal, shadows and petals drifting around them like ghosts.
High in a tower above the city, Prince Zehron peered through a magically forged telescope into the war‑scarred courtyard. His jaw clenched, fury etched into every line of his face, as he watched shadows coil unnaturally around Zack.
The air hissed, heavy with omen. Zehron whispered, his voice sharp as a blade: "What power is that?"
His eyes narrowed, burning with suspicion and wrath.
The golden glow of dawn was swallowed by storm‑laden skies, casting the capital in a steel‑colored gloom. Rain fell light and cold, soaking the stone walls of the palace, washing away the lingering scent of war.
Zehron stood atop the western tower, his cloak snapping in the wind, sharp eyes pressed against a magically‑enhanced lens. His face was carved in stone, unreadable — but within, a storm brewed.
He had seen it. The flash. Zack's power.
Through the lens, he watched Sereh descend upon the battlefield, the last of the assassins crumbling beneath her spell. He saw Kira retreating into her ink‑born escape, and Zack… holding back, visibly strained, standing protectively before Keal.
A whisper broke through the wind, faint but deliberate.
Behind him, a royal guard waited in silence, armor dripping with rain. Veltric lowered the lens, turned with precision, and gave the order. "Send a team. Retrieve the two survivors. And burn the rest."
The gates creaked open slowly, iron grinding against stone. Keal and Zack rode in on the same horse, battered and bloodied. Their faces were pale, their bodies bruised. Zack wore his signature smirk, but his eyes carried a new weight, shadows of exhaustion and defiance.
Courtiers watched from behind veils and windows, whispers spreading like wildfire. Two boys… A brothel… Blood everywhere.
Palace servants rushed forward, hands trembling as they offered cloth, potions, and support. The air smelled of wet stone and iron, heavy with tension.
Zack grinned through the pain, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Where's the food? I nearly died for some grilled lamb."
His voice was light, mocking, but his smirk faltered at the edges.
Keal said nothing. His silence was heavier than words. His eyes swept the courtyard, rain dripping from his hair, searching. Zehron was not at the gates. Strange. That wasn't like him Because he was always everywhere .
Zack groaned as he flopped onto the silk‑covered bed, shirtless and wrapped in bandages. His smirk was faint, but the pain in his voice was real. "Ow. This sucks."
Keal sat in silence, stitched arm resting against the chair, ribs bruised beneath his tunic. His gaze was fixed on the darkening sky outside the window, unreadable, as if the storm clouds carried answers he couldn't reach. "You nearly died," Keal murmured.
Zack grinned through the ache. "Yeah, but did you see me flirt with that assassin girl? Beautiful, deadly, and full of hate. My type."
Keal respond with a weird face has his hand was feeling his wound" At this point u do not have a type".
Zack: Come o...
Then the door creaked open.
Zehron stepped inside. His boots made no sound against the marble floor, yet the air shifted with his presence. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, sharp and unyielding, full of questions he never voiced.
Zack sat up, forcing a smirk. "Finally visiting your favorite little brother?"
Zehron ignored the sarcasm. His gaze moved from Zack to Keal, then back again, lingering as if weighing their souls. "You both look like death."
Keal's reply was quiet, almost resigned. "Close enough."
Zehron approached, his cloak whispering against the floor. He inspected the wound on Zack's side, his expression unreadable. "This wasn't just a street fight."
Zack forced a laugh, though it came out hollow. "You're welcome for the pile of dead bodies."
Zehron didn't laugh. His voice dropped lower, carrying a weight that pressed against the room. "If either of you are hiding something… now is the time to speak."
Silence.
Zack and Keal exchanged glances. Keal's jaw tightened, his crimson eyes flickering with unease. Zack shrugged, his smirk fading into something softer, almost weary. "We're just unlucky bastards," he said quietly. "Nothing more."
Zehron lingered, his golden eyes locked on Zack's, searching for cracks in the mask. The silence stretched, heavy, suffocating.
Finally, he nodded once, slow and deliberate. "Get rest. The queen will want answers when she returns."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door. His voice was calm, but it carried an edge that cut deeper than steel. "You were lucky this time."
Zack smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed the weight of the words. "Luck's my middle name."
Zehron's gaze lingered a moment longer, unreadable, before he vanished into the corridor. The room felt colder in his absence, as if he had taken something with him — or left something behind.
As the door shut behind Zehron, Zack's smirk faded slightly. He glanced at Keal. "He knows."
Keal, still staring out the window: "Let him. We'll be gone soon."
The medical wing was unusually quiet. Night had fallen, but two troublemakers were very much awake.
Keal sat shirtless on a bed, torso wrapped in blood‑stained bandages. A medic had just left, warning him not to move too much. Zack, meanwhile, was sprawled dramatically across his own bed, one leg elevated like a king on a throne, arms folded behind his head, completely unbothered.
"I swear, Zack," Keal muttered, "if you flirt with one more assassin, I'll leave you to die next time."
Zack grinned. "To be fair, The green haired girl had that mysterious 'I‑might‑kill‑you‑or‑kiss‑you' energy. How could I resist?"
"You're lucky she didn't stab you while kissing you."
"Now that's just bad manners. I'd be offended."
Keal rolled his eyes, wincing slightly. "She nearly killed me, you know."
"Yeah, and you nearly killed her. That's basically foreplay."
Keal sighed, grabbed a pillow, and hurled it. Zack barely dodged, yelping. "Hey! Wounded here, remember?"
"You were joking during the fight!"
Zack sat up, suddenly serious. "It helps me focus."
Keal blinked, surprised. Zack held the moment… then broke into a grin. "Nah, just kidding. I just like hearing your angry voice when things explode. It's soothing."
The door creaked open. A nurse peeked in, glaring. "Can you two please stop yelling? You're disturbing the actual patients."
Zack pointed at himself. "We are the actual patients!"
"Exactly my point," she snapped, slamming the door shut.
Keal groaned, rubbing his temple. "Why do I put up with you?"
Zack leaned back, smug. "Because without me, you'd just be a brooding guy with bandages. I add flavor."
Keal muttered, "You're more like food poisoning."
Zack gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Wow. Hurtful. And here I was planning to share my grilled lamb fantasy with you."
Keal: "Please choke on it."
Zack: "Romantic. Truly romantic."
"I am not gay" keal replied the two continue to joke untill they slept
TWO WEEKS LATER
The grand teleportation gate shimmered like molten runes, humming with power. Guards and courtiers held their breath as Keal and Zack stepped forward.
The instant their bodies crossed the threshold, the world bent. Light folded inward, swallowing them whole. Rain, stone, and palace walls vanished in a blur of color.
Then it hit.
[SYSTEM UPDATE – REALM EXPLORATION: BROKEN MYSTRA REALM – 30% COMPLETED] [NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: SHADOW SUMMON (Limit 2), SHADOW EYE – SHADOW EYE LASER]
Keal staggered mid‑stride, crimson eyes widening as shadow motes curled at his feet, spectral shapes clawing upward before dissolving into the void between realms. His breath caught, chest tight.
Zack whipped his head toward him, voice echoing in the glowing tunnel. "Wait. Did you just breakthrough while inside a portal?!"
Keal forced a smile, though his voice trembled. "I… am a wanderer."
Zack blinked, then tilted his head with exaggerated disbelief. His smirk twisted into something half‑mocking, half‑terrified. "…Are you an idiot?"
"Say an id..."has keal was about to finsh his statement the portal roared as they stepped through, light folding inward until the palace courtyard was gone. For a heartbeat, they were nowhere — suspended in a tunnel of molten runes and humming winds. Then, with a thunderous pulse, the world snapped back.
They landed in the Central Academy.
The courtyard stretched wide, paved in marble that shimmered like water. Towers of crystal and stone rose into the storm‑colored sky, their spires crowned with banners that glowed faintly in the rain. Gardens bloomed along the edges, flowers bending under the drizzle yet glowing with inner light. Students and mages moved across the grounds, their robes trailing sparks of magic. The air itself hummed, alive with power.
Keal froze. His crimson eyes widened, chest rising and falling as he drank it all in. He was famished by its beauty, starved for wonder after years of shadows and blood. His gaze locked on the glowing spires, the runes carved into the marble, the way the portal's light still shimmered faintly behind them. He couldn't stop staring.
Zack nudged him, smirk tugging at his lips. "Hey. You gonna stand there drooling, or should I fetch you a bucket?"
Keal whispered, voice trembling with awe. "It's… beautiful."
Zack rolled his eyes, leaning back against the marble arch. "Yeah, yeah. Beautiful. Until someone tries to stab us in the cafeteria."
Keal didn't move. His eyes were still locked on the Academy, mesmerized. The rain slid down his bandages, but he didn't notice.
Zack tilted his head, watching him. His smirk sharpened. "…Are you an idiot? You look like you just saw the gods themselves."
Keal's lips parted, but no words came. The Academy's glow reflected in his crimson eyes, and for the first time in years, he looked less like a wanderer and more like a boy seeing hope.
Zack chuckled, shaking his head. "Dramatic. Very dramatic. You're lucky I'm here to ruin the mood.