The dimly lit meeting chamber was heavy with anticipation. A long, polished table stretched between the walls, carved from ancient stone and marked with the sigils of the Twilight Territory's ruling houses. Four Dukes sat on each side, their faces unreadable, eyes locked on the black-robed figure at the head of the table—Luciferus.
Zackary leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "So, why did you summon us, Your Majesty?"
Luciferus's cold gaze swept the room, measuring each man and woman before him. "I see you all wonder why I called you here. Yet I am not the one who will explain."
A heavy creak echoed through the chamber as two figures entered: Caleb and Cassarian, accompanied by Aisha Drakonia, her sapphire armor gleaming faintly in the torchlight.
"Your Majesty, Your Graces," Caleb greeted with a respectful bow.
Luciferus gestured for them to proceed. "Explain what we discussed yesterday."
Caleb stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Yesterday, I informed His Highness of the dwarves who aided in rebuilding our village."
"Dwarves?" Vlad's brow lifted, his curiosity evident.
"Why should we care?" Lysander's tone was sharp, skepticism clear.
Maximilian silenced the room with a raised hand. "Let us hear the full explanation before judgment."
Caleb nodded. "Very well." He drew a deep breath and continued. "These dwarves are skilled artisans, capable of forging magical weapons of incredible power—Holy, Demonic, Cursed, and more. Their knowledge predates much of our recorded history. They once served the Empire, crafting World-Class and God-Class artifacts, though their talents made them targets. Now, they seek refuge beyond the northern mountains."
Whispers rippled through the chamber as the magnitude of Caleb's words sank in.
"World-Class and God-Class artifacts... do such things truly exist?" Zackary murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
"They do," Aisha answered softly, stepping forward. "Though God-Class weapons have not been seen for centuries. After the Holy War, angels retrieved them and removed them from this plane."
Cassarian drew a gleaming golden sword from its sheath, its radiant light reflecting off the stone walls. "This is a Guardian Class weapon, forged by those dwarves. Only those who serve as second-in-command to a Solar Sentinel or Zodiac Apostle may wield such blades."
He laid the sword on the table with deliberate reverence. "It's a testament to their unparalleled skill."
Zackary leaned closer, inspecting the ornate craftsmanship. "If this is second-tier, what of the Solar Sentinels themselves?"
Xoraxys picked up the sword carefully, weighing it in his hands. "The Zodiac Apostle's swords are Kingdom Class—a level above."
Luciferus's interest sharpened. "Kingdom Class? What distinguishes them from Guardian Class weapons?"
Aisha smiled faintly. "Kingdom Class blades are forged from the very essence of their wielders' zodiac. For example, the Leo Apostle's sword was made from the essence of the Ancient Golden Lion, granting it unique powers. Each Apostle's weapon reflects the spirit of their zodiac sign."
The council absorbed the knowledge in silence, the weight of history settling over them.
Zackary repeated quietly, "World-Class artifacts have the power to destroy worlds… and God-Class weapons can slay gods or even rend reality itself."
"Exactly," Aisha said gravely. "Which is why the dwarves' return could change everything."
Luciferus turned to Caleb. "You said their refuge lies beyond the northern mountains?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. They have established a hidden enclave there."
"How many dwarves remain?" Leon pressed.
"Ten maintain contact with us, though they hint at many more," Caleb replied.
The room fell silent again, the gravity of their task pressing down on every soul present.
"So, what is the plan?" Reages finally spoke, breaking the stillness.
Luciferus's voice was resolute. "Three of us will go. Cassarian will accompany us."
Eyes turned to Zackary, whose heartbeat quickened under their expectant gazes.
"I will go," Zackary volunteered without hesitation.
Xoraxys nodded. "I have never left the Twilight Territory. I will accompany you."
Reages's voice was steady. "I go as well."
Luciferus regarded them, a rare softness in his gaze. "And your plan?"
Lysander leaned forward, spreading a carved map across the table. "It is mating season—monsters migrate toward my territory's side of the mountains. An approach from that direction would mean certain death. Instead, travel through Maximilian's territory to the west, then north through the forest. It is treacherous but the safest path."
Zackary traced the route with his finger. "We will follow this path."
The council nodded in agreement.
"Departure is set for sunrise tomorrow," Maximilian declared.
As the meeting adjourned, one by one the Dukes filed out, until only Zackary, Vlad, and Luciferus remained.
Luciferus broke the silence. "Why do you both linger?"
Zackary met Luciferus's gaze, steady and resolute. "Byron, I leave behind my identity as Aiden. This world… it's where I belong now. I won't carry the weight of that old life any longer. Don't be surprised if I never use that name again."
A silence hung heavy as Zackary turned and walked out, a clarity he had never known filling his chest.
Luciferus looked to Vlad. "You share his sentiment?"
Vlad nodded, eyes hardening. "I leave Ashiq behind. No explanation needed."
Luciferus exhaled, watching Vlad dissolve into a swirling cloud of bats. "I expected this, yet I am surprised at how quickly they move on. Perhaps they know something I do not."
Alone in the chamber, Byron pondered the shadows of his own past, feeling the stirrings of secrets yet untold.
Outside, the cold dusk breeze swept through the castle grounds as Zackary stepped out, breath visible in the crisp air. Freedom buzzed in his veins.
"Your Grace," Aisha approached quietly.
"Yes?" Zackary responded, turning to face her.
"I overheard your conversation with His Majesty. If you are truly ready to embrace this life, there is something you must know."
Zackary's curiosity sparked. "Tell me."
Aisha's lips curved with a mysterious smile. "Not now. After your mission, I will reveal it."
"Very well. I won't force the secret out of you," Zackary agreed.
Aisha bowed gracefully and left, leaving Zackary standing in the castle courtyard, thoughts swirling.
At the Grand Duke's domain, Lance, the head butler, awaited Zackary's arrival.
"Your Grace, welcome home," Lance said warmly.
Zackary returned the greeting. "Thank you, Lance. I depart at sunrise tomorrow."
Lance's eyes widened. "We must prepare immediately."
The mansion burst into activity as servants rushed to ready the necessary supplies and attire.
"How long will your journey be?" Lance asked as he bustled about.
"About a week, if all goes well," Zackary answered.
Lance frowned. "The northern mountains can be unforgiving. We'll prepare enough provisions for three weeks and ensure your clothing allows for mobility."
"Will you take guards?" Lance inquired.
"None," Zackary replied firmly.
"Your Grace, even the powerful need trusted companions."
After some gentle insistence, Zackary relented. "Two guards will accompany me."
Lance smiled approvingly. "Good."
A rare warmth blossomed inside Zackary as Lance's concern reminded him of family. He spoke softly, "You feel like a grandfather to me."
Lance chuckled. "I'm too young for that title! Maybe a father?"
Zackary laughed openly, the sound unfamiliar yet comforting. Servants paused, surprised to hear it.
"Don't listen to him," Sofia, the head maid, teased, tugging Lance's ear. "I'm the real family figure here—I've cared for you like my own these past five months."
Zackary smiled, genuinely touched. Though his memories were gone, their care made this mansion feel like home.
The next morning dawned bright.
"Your Grace, are you ready?" Lance knocked gently at the grand door.
"Still getting ready!" Sofia's voice echoed from within as maids fussed over Zackary's appearance.
"Must he look so grand?" Lance muttered.
"Of course," Sofia insisted. "You'll face those coming to live in the Twilight Territory. You must be presentable."
Finally prepared, Zackary stepped outside to find two knights waiting, along with Fenrir and two lesser dragons.
Sofia directed, "You have supplies for two weeks, plus what's stored specially. Remember to present yourself well—Penelope will assist."
She nodded toward a female demi-human knight whose fox ears twitched with alertness.
"Finn, watch over His Grace—and yourself," Sofia added.
"Yes, Mother," Finn replied solemnly.
With final farewells, Zackary mounted Fenrir. Finn and Penelope took to the skies on their dragons, and they soared away in a blur.
"Looks like you're finally here," Xoraxys greeted, standing beside Reages.
The two knights scanned Zackary's striking white-and-black attire, which lent him a regal air.
"Are you hunting a bride or something? Why so dressed up?" Reages teased.
Finn and Penelope chuckled softly.
"Blame his mother," Finn said, smiling. "That's why His Grace shines today."
Xoraxys smirked. "Shall we go? We'll send the dragons back from here."
Finn nodded, releasing the dragons.
"Let's move," Xoraxys commanded. From the shadows emerged a giant, shadowy steed.
Reages mounted his fiery drake, a tiny flaming bird landing on his shoulder.
"Is that your phoenix?" Zackary asked, climbing onto Fenrir's back.
"Yes. He loves to perch there," Reages replied with a smirk.
The group rode through Maximilian's territory, the trees blurring past.
"Now that they're gone, how about a feast, Fang?" Maximilian grinned, watching them fade into the horizon atop a Dire Wolf's massive frame.
"Stop calling me Fang," the Dire Wolf growled playfully.