Soon after the storm, the functions of the Great Wall returned to normal. The cold weather, carried by gentle winds, brought Theo some comfort, allowing him to sleep for a while. However, his rest was interrupted by shouting and the clash of metal.
The headache was inevitable. He had distorted dreams, just like the memories he carried. He woke up confused, still drifting through Liam's recollections, trying to find the door out of his room.
He walked through the wide corridor, with well-kept white walls adorned with golden patterns. Covering his right eye to avoid the harsh light, he found Stephany leaning against an outer balcony.
She was completely worn down, with the makeup around her eyes smudged, marking a face filled with hatred. She remained silent, watching a street outside the castle; Theo followed her gaze through a gap between the pillars.
The boy held himself back, staying silent with each step. Then, he saw what had awakened him.
Hundreds of soldiers marched through the street, striking their spears against their shields in unison.
At the center of the procession, carried by half a dozen soldiers, sat Emperor Llorent upon his Seat of Great Excellence—a massive throne of silver and gold, cushioned with a wine-colored fabric, with rods extending outward to form a small canopy shielding him from the sun.
From his limited view, Theo could only see the emblem on those rods, with cloth draped along the sides.
The soldiers shouted with passion, their synchronized war rhythms echoing through the air. The sound reverberated in Theo's ears, rippling like waves of war through his troubled mind. Fire filled his vision, while the cries of death lingered.
His head throbbed, his chest tightened, and he staggered weakly, unsteady. Leaning against a pillar, he observed Stephany carefully; she looked fragile like a flower—broken like a glass vase.
Yet, this was a distorted routine within that family.
"Aunt… what happened?" Theo asked, trying to push through the migraine.
Startled, she turned to face him.
"Theo. You're awake…" Stephany murmured, wiping her eyes. "How are you? Feeling better?"
"Yes."
Walking closer, Theo leaned against the balcony beside her and watched the Emperor's procession. Noticing the confusion and curiosity in his eyes, she smiled—almost as if searching for a reason to stay awake.
"That is your grandfather's brother, Theo. You could say he's your great-uncle…"
"Great-uncle? That exists?"
Stephany nodded, laughing softly at the genuine question.
"That is our Emperor, Llorent Caesar. The most important man in our family."
"Is he strong?" Theo asked, narrowing his eyes as he followed the soldiers.
His gaze saw more than Stephany could perceive—a sea of mana naturally emanating from the soldiers, distorting through the streets like waves seeking space.
But he felt no such presence from the Emperor.
"No," Stephany replied immediately. "He's human, like me. We have nothing special beyond our minds and confidence."
As I thought… It's like Egon, Theo reflected, forcing himself to stop analyzing mana.
"So people follow him just because he's intelligent?"
"Almost…" she said. "People follow a leader not because of strength, but because of leadership. Not every man knows how to keep others alive, Theo. We follow those who keep us in this world."
"To keep us alive, don't leaders need power?"
"And they have it. Not magical power—influence."
Placing a hand on Theo's shoulder, she helped him relax as the procession disappeared around a distant corner.
"The power to govern is more valuable for a leader than the power to destroy a city. After all, as a leader, you can command an army capable of wiping a city off the map… Do you understand, Theo?"
"Even so…" Theo muttered, puffing his cheeks. "An army like that shouldn't follow someone weaker than them…"
"Theo…" she said, leaning back against the balcony as her eyes drifted to a painting in the corridor.
A lion stood atop a mountain peak, roaring at the sun as if trying to devour it.
"Do you understand how powerful your father is?"
"My father is strong?"
Theo knew he was—but living with Ethan's gentle and approachable side, he had no real grasp of it.
"At just eighteen years old, he was named the most powerful man in the world. Not only for his strength, capable of conquering kingdoms, but for his leadership. He pulled the entire Lawrence duchy out of three hundred years of decline and turned it into one of the greatest powers in the south… Ethan became the sun that the lions of this wall cannot reach."
"Everyone admires him, right?"
"I think even those who hate him admire him… And you, young one—will you follow in your father's footsteps?"
Avoiding her gaze, Theo hugged himself quietly, hiding within his own arms. Watching the streets now calm—though the distant noise of the Emperor's celebration still echoed—he drifted into his thoughts.
All he could think about was how both empires were fruits of the same tree.
Everything in his life seemed to push him toward Liam's path: serving a military leader and dying on a battlefield. He acted naive, making everyone believe he was a lost child, but he was planning his future with every passing day.
From what he had learned, Deviants were no different from the Heirs of the Sorcerers of Egon—a race destined to serve kings and fight for them, while seeking each other's deaths.
The difference was that the Egonians were always blinded by their Emperor—ruled by indoctrination and controlled education. Here, however, there was a choice: to follow the Emperor or to follow one's own desires.
Theo had met many of the latter on the journey to the capital. Men and women who dressed as they wished, who carried weapons and artifacts without fear of repression.
They were known as Agents of Vagus.
"Lady… what do you know about the Great Order?" Theo asked, turning to look at the painting.
The painting, incidentally, had been made by Lady Camille—his mother.
"Are you curious about them?" Stephany replied, holding his hand.
But before she could continue, a door further down the corridor burst open. From a private chamber, a maid stumbled out, nearly in tears, slipping in her high heels.
She was flushed, clutching her disheveled black dress, her hair worse than that of someone abandoned. Her smeared makeup mixed with the shame and humiliation choking her voice. Her legs trembled as she tried to flee.
As she passed Stephany, her gaze carried guilt and disapproval. Stephany's, however, held pity.
"What happened to her?" Theo asked, concerned.
She looked like she had been attacked by a lion.
"You don't need to know that, my dear," Stephany replied, her heart heavy.
Making sure the door remained closed, she hurried Theo down the corridor. Still, as they passed the grand marble door lined with gold, he managed to glimpse inside through a narrow gap.
In a room with a disheveled bed and clothes scattered across the floor, Elijah stood upright, head tilted back as he ran a hand through his hair. He was sweaty, shirtless, with his pants unzipped and belt loose, exhaling with a satisfied smile.
"Theo… aside from the sea, I want you to remember something…" Ethan's voice echoed in his mind like a fire alarm. "When you reach our destination, you'll find a den of lions without lionesses. But those lions are more like treacherous snakes and vile worms. You are a falcon of the night—so hunt the worms and…"
Even as he was dragged away, Theo turned once more to look back.
Their hurried steps caught Elijah's attention. In that same state, he stepped out and watched his wife and nephew pass by.
Their gazes clashed like gunfire between opposing ideologies. Elijah wore the vilest smile, stained with sin.
"I want you to fly…"
For the first time in his life, Theo felt disgust toward someone. For a moment, his anger surged, urging him to confront Elijah.
But he had already disobeyed Ethan once by entering the Forest of Nymphs.
He would not disobey again.
"Fly away from the lions."