"Who was he?" Zevaron asked. His voice was low yet firm. "Have any of you met him before?"
Keira brushed her hair back with a casual motion and shook her head quickly.
"Never," she answered bluntly. "If I had, I'd definitely remember."
Luna looked at the ground for a moment, as if weighing her words.
"Neither have I," she said softly. Her tone was calm, almost like a whispering night wind. "But... his power felt incredibly unusual."
Lance let out a short chuckle, a lopsided grin carving its way onto his face.
"Who does he think he is anyway?" he said lightly. "I've never met him. But honestly, with fire magic that formidable... if he had been causing trouble, we would have heard about him a long time ago."
Raivorne crossed his arms, his expression hardening.
"Whoever he is, his strength is clearly no joke. Yet strangely, there isn't a single record of him."
Zevaron clenched his fist.
"We cannot ignore this. Someone with power like that could become a threat to the peace of the world."
Keira clicked her tongue softly.
"In that case, the sooner we find out, the better."
"I will ask my father," Raivorne stated firmly. "He will surely be able to investigate this."
"It would be safer if we also involve powerful figures from the kingdoms or empires," Zevaron added.
Raivorne nodded. "My father holds great influence in this empire. With that, we will surely be able to obtain information about him."
He stepped forward, energy swirling around his feet. In an instant, his body lunged away—vanishing from sight and leaving behind a sharp gust of wind.
Luna smiled faintly, watching the direction where Raivorne had gone.
"This journey has given me many things," she said quietly, her voice remaining soft. "But I must go as well. There is something I need to do."
She gave a brief nod before her figure blurred, moving lightly as if merging with the shadows.
Only Zevaron, Keira, and Lance remained.
They soon exited the mysterious forest. A few minutes later, the suffocating atmosphere was replaced by the open air.
"See you around," Lance said, waving a lazy hand.
"See you," Zevaron replied. "And remember, don't let the secret leak."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "You're too serious. Do you think I'm the type to show off what I've gained?"
"It could leak," Zevaron said flatly, "if your sister asks for it."
Lance clicked his tongue.
"Hah... that was a long time ago." He gave a cocky grin. "Relax, I've learned my lesson this time."
In the next second, he vanished, streaking away so fast he left a trail of wind behind him.
Keira slipped her hands into her pockets, stopping after a few steps.
"Looks like we part ways here too," she said casually.
Zevaron nodded.
"Until we meet again. If there's trouble, we'll help you."
Keira smirked.
"For sure. You guys are people I can actually trust."
Zevaron shot away, his body blurring in an instant, leaving Keira alone on the path.
Elsewhere, Raivorne ran through the rocky path leading to the Khaelryn clan estate. His breathing was steady, his steps fast—until suddenly, a bolt of blue light streaked sharply toward him, cutting through the air with a hissing sound.
His body's reflexes moved faster than his mind. Raivorne twisted his torso, dodging just before the light hit the ground behind him and exploded into sparks of lightning energy.
He stopped for a moment, his heart pounding hard.
As the blue light faded, his vision froze.
Lying before him was a man drenched in blood—Veyron.
"Brother...?" Raivorne's voice trembled as he knelt down. "What happened?!"
Veyron opened his eyes with great difficulty. His breath was heavy, and blood flowed from wounds that had no time to close.
"There was... an attack," he whispered. "In the Khaelryn clan... only you and I survived."
He took a long breath, as if every word was gnawing away at the remains of his life.
"The others... are dead. Caught in a massive explosion."
His eyes opened slightly wider.
"And... there was intervention... from the empire."
Veyron's body went limp. That sentence became his final words before his consciousness vanished. His head slumped—he had passed out from losing too much blood.
"No... no, don't die," Raivorne muttered in a panic.
With trembling hands, he pressed down on his brother's wounds, channeling his lightning energy to seal the blood vessels and stem the flow. A faint blue light enveloped Veyron's body, pulsing in sync with Raivorne's heavy breathing.
Rage began to replace the panic.
"They attacked my clan..." Raivorne's voice was low and shaking. "They slaughtered everyone..."
His eyes flared.
"Then... I will pay them back!"
He lifted his head, staring blankly ahead as if piercing through the walls of the world.
"Emperor of the Eldryss Empire... you will pay for this!"
His tone was cold, filled with absolute resolve.
"Just wait until I become strong enough. I will eradicate everyone involved!"
Suddenly, the light around him dimmed.
The wind stopped blowing. The sounds of the world vanished.
Darkness descended—not like the night, but like something swallowing space itself.
In the midst of the void, a massive throne appeared, formed from swirling light and shadow. Atop it sat a man.
He did not radiate an aura in the usual way.
His mere presence made the space vibrate subtly.
The man's gaze fell upon Raivorne.
"The aura of your power... awakened me," his voice echoed, deep and heavy, as if coming from the sky and the earth simultaneously.
"I can give you strength."
Raivorne gritted his teeth but did not look away.
"On one condition," the figure continued. "You become my successor."
Flashes of ancient lightning enveloped the throne.
"You possess the element of lightning. And within my legacy... lies lightning magic that transcends the limits of this age."
A heavy silence pressed against Raivorne's chest.
"Do you wish to accept it?"
Raivorne looked straight at the throne.
"I do."
Instantly, a glowing mark formed on his forehead, feeling hot then cold, like a carving merging with his soul.
"Very well," the figure said. "But power is not given without a price."
"Your first trial, the first stage..."
The air vibrated.
"Kill ten people who have committed the crime of murder."
The figure's gaze was piercing.
"Are you capable?"
Raivorne did not hesitate.
"Of course."
"Good."
"Once you leave this domain, do it immediately. Every success will unlock my legacy bit by bit."
"That mark on your forehead... only you can see it."
The throne began to fade.
"Stay alive, Raivorne Khaelryn. Do not stain this power with doubt."
The darkness collapsed.
In an instant, Raivorne was standing back in the real world—with Veyron in his arms, and a heavy destiny now etched into his soul.
From a distance, a man stood atop the ruins of a towering rock. His deep red hair hung messily in the wind, while his blood-red eyes stared straight toward Raivorne's location—as if distance and obstacles meant nothing to him.
A thin smile played on his lips. The smile of someone who had seen too much destruction to be surprised by tragedy.
"Hmm... so another one has obtained a legacy," he murmured softly. His voice was low, yet held a strange resonance, like a whisper from the distant past.
He raised his hand slightly. In the air around him, an alien energy pulsed—heavy, dense, and oppressive.
"Interesting."
"It seems we will meet, sooner or later," he continued, his smile widening slightly. "Destiny truly loves to bring together those who walk the same path."
His gaze narrowed, a glint of red light shimmering in his eyes.
"Especially if the two of us... are both heirs to the power of the Peak Era."
The wind suddenly swirled around him. The man's figure slowly faded, as if merging with the shadows of the world.
All that remained was a faint smile—and the premonition that one day, that meeting would be unavoidable.