[Emerald Castle - Main Gate]
Alden returned to the Emerald Castle as the first stars began to prick the twilight. Captain Lut was waiting at the gate, his silhouette stark against the stone archway.
"Your Highness." Lut bowed, the motion stiff.
Alden halted, his gaze sweeping across the weathered face of the old captain, allowing his senses to extend beyond mere sight.
Too shallow. Too fast. The rhythm of a heart straining against a cage of ribs that had taken too many blows.
Alden looked at the man—a Swordmaster who had once carved through enemy lines like a scythe through wheat. Now, he was old, his skin papery, weakened by age and a duty that refused to let him rest.
A thought crossed his mind. Lut wasn’t supposed to die so soon. So why was he weakening so fast?
He strained his mind to recall the hazy memories of his death. Lut had saved him from an organized enemy attack, sacrificing his own life for his sake, but Alden had completely forgotten.
Even in this life, the words he had spoken himself reverberated in his mind. he had said a few days ago to Limon.
The leather of his gloves creaked in the silence as Alden adjusted them. Hurrying now would be perilous; he had only recently restructured his body, but his current stored essence was woefully insufficient for the transfer.
If he delayed any longer, Lut’s weakened body, accustomed only to aura, wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of his essence at all. He needed a solution, and a swift one at that.
Nodding to Lut, he walked past him into the courtyard while thinking of possible methods he could use in this particular situation. "Sun Stones..." He remembered the box he had left in his stronghold. If he used it, a Rebound Effect could be created. Finally, Alden added a change in his order.
"We leave in disguise," Alden said, his voice low. "Speed is key."
Limon frowned, his stride faltering. "That’s risky, Your Highness. To travel without any knight order? Also how would you fight the rebels alone? We must—"
"Commander Brandon has already been sent ahead. We’ll meet them there." Limon appeared to have more to say, but Alden interrupted him. "Prepare the horses and light travel gear. It will take at least a week to reach our destination."
"Ah, Commander Brandon? I understand. I’ll prepare right away." Limon swiftly moved in the opposite direction.
Dismissing Limon, Alden turned toward his chambers. Once inside, he closed the heavy door to his bedchamber and bolted it. Moving to the wardrobe, he swapped his princely velvet for a nondescript woolen cloak and durable riding leathers.
He unlatched the window and looked below. The castle grounds were a grid of patrols and shadows. He scanned the shadow beneath the tree, then the ones hiding in the garden, faint but unmistakable heartbeats—the Duke’s eyes, the harem’s spies, and the Emperor’s watchers. 'Nuisance.' He had to leave so fast they wouldn't even see him leaving. Alden walked towards the window, and opened it, moving the curtains slightly. He turned and walked to his bed. In a single breath, he grabbed a few pillows from underneath, arranged them under the covers, and sprinted back. He vaulted over the sill like a blur, hitting the ground in a silent roll. He was running before the impact fully registered. Above him, the curtain gave only a slight shake.
He wove through the blind spots of the garden, scaled the outer wall, and vanished into the city’s labyrinth.
Destination: The Slums.
[The Traveler’s Rest - Underground Headquarters]
The tavern had grown. Alden noted the expansion of the floor space and the thicker crowd even as Gezel spotted him.
The moment their eyes met, she abandoned a customer. "Premium, sir?" she asked loudly, before ushering him quickly toward the back.
They descended into the earth. The underground headquarters was noisier than usual, humming with the energy of a hive preparing to swarm.
Alden walked into the Great Hall, and the atmosphere shifted. The chatter died, replaced by the rustle of movement as people turned.
"Master..."
A group of children rushed forward, stopping just short of his personal space.
Lin, the young boy whose eyes always seemed to shine whenever they met, stepped up first. "Master! You are here." His eyes gleamed in the torchlight. "I have learned throwing daggers. Now I can fight the big guys outside."
Esme followed, bowing low. "Master, They are all too kind here."
Alden nodded, his gaze drifted to the corner, where Arpa stood fidgeting. Seeing his attention, she walked forward and knelt, her forehead touching the stone.
"We were fed... three times daily. More than I asked," she whispered. "Now, I’m ready for the mission."
Alden gazed at them—children he had rescued from the Silver Star, now addressing him as Master. It was likely that they had perished in the original timeline.
"Good," he said, his voice even. "Train a bit more. When it's time for your mission, I'll let you know."
He turned away, striding toward the center of the room where Sill waited, already kneeling.
"Rise."
Alden didn't walk to the throne. Without the time for theatricality, he simply handed Sill a folded parchment.
"Follow the instructions here."
Beneath his gloves, Alden’s fingers betrayed a faint, suppressed tremor, but his voice was iron.
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"From the Viremont Duchy," Alden commanded, "take the ships, carts, and routes tonight."
Sill caught the ledger, his eyes wide. "Master, the debt collectors are at Duke’s gates. Whoever plotted this will seize the properties."
"Drown the collectors first." Alden turned to the vault door. "Take three chests of Imperial gold coin to Viremont's estate. Offer him enough to pay off every hound at his door. The price for his salvation is seventy percent ownership of his network, signed to me. Use code name 'Phantom'."
"Phan... tom?" Sill gasped and flipped the ledger open. "And if the conspirator's mercenaries have already locked down the warehouses?"
"If the buildings are lost... leave them." Alden snapped. "Take the silver directly to the docks and the merchant squares. Offer every teamster, supplier, and guard under Viremont double their current wage. Buy the blood of the operation."
Sill’s pen scratched furiously against the parchment. "Understood, Master. We will replace Viremont’s network thoroughly. The people won't even feel the difference in the supply lines if we route them through our own assets. And we can—"
"Send runners to the debt houses," Alden interrupted the early celebration, stepping closer and casting his shadow over Sill’s work. "Offer them a ten percent premium to sell the debt to us tonight in untraceable silver."
Sill paused, the quill hovering.
Alden didn’t linger; it wasn’t just about countering the conspiracy; he had to manipulate every single outcome.
In a trembling voice, Sill finally asked, "But Master… what if Viremont declares bankruptcy before midnight?" If that happens, they might be too late for everything.
The quill shook in Sill’s hand. Alden, in a detached manner, remarked, "Then wait."
Sill blinked, then, in his boyish voice, asked, "Wait?"
The children, standing far away, were intently listening to every word spoken. Alden’s gaze fixed on Sill’s.
"When the network collapses and its remnants are auctioned, our proxies will purchase them for a mere penny," he murmured. While the conspirator tried to intrude the house, he could simply buy it. After all, the outcome was predetermined.
Sill swallowed hard and stared at the ledger before carefully closing it. "Understood, Master."
Taking out another parchment from the table, Sill started reporting. "Prince Aran is extremely cautious. Code 18 has yet to make any progress, I believe."
For a fleeting moment, Alden’s lips curled into a dark smirk. "I can wait, as long as he requires it."
Meanwhile, divert his attention elsewhere.
He was about to turn away when his eyes caught a separate parchment resting on Sill’s desk.
[Operation 07: Diversion Project.]
Alden frowned and picked up the parchment, gently tracing its surface with his gloved thumb.
"Unexpected?" he murmured.
Sill remained bowed. "We do not know, Master. It came from the proxy before... this morning. Should we follow this order?"
"Go ahead. I also wish to see..." Alden paused, nodding slowly to himself. "What plans she had made for me."
He turned to the right, facing the shadow. "Come out, 04."
The shadow stirred. "You knew, Master? Wow…" Cyrus separated from the pillar shadow and approached him, kneeling before him. "I’ve completed the mission. The tiny rumors we planted were immediately caught by that bitch, Rosa. She ensured that Cedric was in position. As for the financial ruin, it was Aldric, but he’s likely taking orders, Master." He playfully looked up, his purple gaze mischievous. "Did you suspect, Master? That’s why you sent 18 there."
Alden nodded. "Your next mission is to follow the crumbs you collected and first pull out all the minions."
Cyrus's lips curved in a vicious smirk. "Dead or alive?"
Alden calmly glanced down before adding, "Stay crouched and blend in. Do not alert me. I need the rat… from Ravenclif."
He paused. "Unlike the last one, this mission won't be easy."
Cyrus tilted his head upward and exclaimed, "The harder, the better, Master." He then pleaded with his gleaming purple eyes, murmuring, "Just let me gut him myself once you’re done."
Alden nodded. "Of course. I’ll give it to you once I discover their mastermind."
Then he turned back to Sill and spent the next hour issuing final directives. "Devour the illegitimate businesses as well… seize them one by one as our enemy forces reach them. In a confrontation face to face…"
Sill sneered finishing the sentence. "We won't lose."
Alden finally turned his back on the hall and said, "Do not fail me." He stepped out into the dark tunnels, his trembling finger hidden within a clenched fist.
Without glancing around, he seamlessly blended into the crowd and then made his way towards the mountain at the city’s edge—his Stronghold.
[On the Border of Chaos: Edge of Antithesis]
A violet sky hung heavy over the edge of the Golden Realm. Behind the vanguard, the main battle line of the Saelaris held formation—hundreds of golden warriors motionless in the gloom, waiting for the command.
At the front, Kaelira drove her spear of condensed flame into the shifting mass of an Amorphous. The creature hissed like steam where the weapon touched, the intense heat forcing its shadowy form to recoil. Before it could reshape, Syralis stepped in, coating the entity in a flash of white rime that froze the dark matter instantly. A sharp twist of her wrist shattered the statue, sending shards of calcified shadow skittering across the stone.
Over the ridge, a dark tide of Crawlers surged forth. Their bodies tore open, revealing dripping maws on their chests and shoulders. Ten more Amorphous loomed behind them, their silhouettes blocking out the purple horizon.
The ground trembled.
"Ready!" Cirelle's voice carried over the vanguard. She stepped to the front line and released a shattering shriek. The sound wave slammed into the horde, halting the Crawlers mid-stride, forcing their mismatched limbs to snap and their exposed organs to rupture.
Syralis moved into the opening—hand raised, ice forming sharp and waiting. Her fist clenched. The shards flew. Bone and frozen gore shattered in cascading cracks.
She caught a glimpse of the sealed region before narrowing her gaze on the adversary, her teeth grinding. "Hurry… I must hurry," she muttered incessantly, the rhythm matching her strikes. "She is lonely, waiting…"
Kaelira launched skyward, heat rippling the air around her. She extended her arms. Pillars of flame crashed down onto the Crawlers below, each strike turning mutated flesh to charred husks.
But the Amorphous pushed through the fire, their shadows knitting back together after every burn.
"Lirika!" Cirelle called back to the ranks.
"I see them." Behind the vanguard, Lirika's fingers were already weaving patterns in the air, threads of essence invisible against the sky. She thrust her palms forward. Golden threads snapped taut across the battlefield—a net that bit deep into gelatinous flesh. The Amorphous thrashed as the essence-filled wires sizzled through them.
"Now," Kaelira ordered from above.
Fire and frost hammered the trapped giants. The Saelaris surged forward in formation, their spears finding the gaps Kaelira's flames created. Unable to regenerate while Lirika's nets held them, the creatures writhed, turning gray and brittle until they crumbled into ash.
Kaelira touched down, the flames forming her wings flickering low and translucent against the sky. She took a ragged breath.
Cirelle was already kneeling beside the scattered remains of their fallen sisters, her hands glowing with a warm, golden light. Around her, the surviving Saelaris knelt in unison, whispering the names of the dead. The essence of the Golden Trees, borrowed before their departure, flowed through their bodies. It reached out, pulling the scattered remains together, transforming torn flesh into bone and armor.
The heavy lids of the fallen sisters unsealed.
The reprieve lasted seconds.
On the horizon, a new shadow stretched across the land. Larger. Darker.
Cirelle looked up at Kaelira, her jaw set. "Again, then."
Kaelira's grip tightened on her spear. "Lirika. The boundary."
"Already done." Lirika's fingers didn't stop moving, golden light tracing patterns that hung in the air.
Kaelira’s attention anchored to the sealed realm where her youngest sister awaited their return from war. Her lids flickered shut and then back, her stare now a jagged, burning flame. Turning to the line of defense—hundreds of golden wings spread wide, waiting—she raised her flaming spear high.
"Listen, my sisters! The veil behind us protects the Universe. If these things cross, the mortals beneath us will die." With a snap of her wings, fire roared back to full intensity. "We are the Saelaris, the Guardians, the Shield against the Abyss! We shall not break!"
The golden legion roared in answer—a sound like thunder, like bells, like a thousand blades being drawn at once.
With a single motion, Kaelira led the charge. Syralis followed without a word, ice already forming in her palms. Cirelle's wings blazed as she took to the sky alongside them.
Behind them, the golden wave surged forward into the endless battle.
