The message came without warning.
The Aetherlink Shard pulsed once—sharp, immediate.
Athos stopped.
"…Report."
Static.
Then—
"…Capital—under attack."
A pause.
"…Multiple points. Unknown source."
Silence.
Athos turned.
No hesitation.
He was gone.
Not running.
Arriving.
The distance between Elderglen and Nolvaris collapsed.
---
The shard pulsed again.
"…Filo."
"…Yeah."
"…The capital is under attack."
A brief silence.
"…Understood."
"…Secure the princess."
"…Already on it."
The connection ended.
Athos didn't slow.
---
The city still stood.
But not untouched.
Smoke rose in scattered columns across the outer and middle rings. Fires burned in controlled patches. Streets weren't destroyed—
They were disrupted.
"…Coordinated," Athos muttered.
Figures moved through the streets—cloaked, fast, precise.
Not monsters.
People.
One stepped into his path, blade drawn.
No words.
Athos didn't stop.
The man moved—
Fast.
Athos stepped once—
And the man fell.
No sound. No struggle.
Gone.
More appeared.
Two. Three.
They attacked together—angles precise, movements synchronized.
Athos moved through them.
Not fighting.
Passing.
Each one dropped before their attack completed.
"…Not random," he said quietly.
"…Diversion."
The castle stood ahead.
Unbroken.
But not untouched.
The doors were already open.
The sound reached him first—
Steel.
Impact.
Aether.
Athos stepped inside.
King Aerthas Vaelorin IV stood at the center of the hall.
Blade drawn.
Calm.
Controlled.
Even now.
Three attackers circled him—moving in perfect coordination.
"…You've improved," one said.
"…You've become predictable," the king replied.
They moved—
Athos stepped in.
One attacker lunged—
Stopped mid-motion.
Athos stood beside the king.
"…You're late," the king said.
"…You're alive," Athos replied.
"…So far."
The remaining attackers adjusted—
Too late.
Athos moved.
One step.
One strike.
Silence.
The hall cleared.
The king lowered his blade.
"…They weren't here to win."
"…No," Athos said.
"…They were testing response time."
A pause.
"…Elowyn is missing."
Athos didn't react.
"…She's with Filo."
The king stilled.
"…You're certain?"
"…If my assessment is correct."
A breath.
Relief—controlled, but present.
"…Good."
"…Seiferus," the king said.
Athos's gaze shifted.
"…Engaged."
"…Opponent?"
"…Unknown."
A pause.
"…Formidable."
Athos turned.
"…Location?"
The king gave it.
Athos moved.
---
Elsewhere—
A different battle had already begun.
The streets here were quieter.
Cleared.
Bodies lay still.
Seiferus stood at the center.
Spear in hand.
Still.
"…You're not like the others."
The voice came from behind him.
Seiferus didn't turn.
A step.
The figure emerged.
Cloaked.
Measured.
Calm.
"…You cut through my scouts."
"…They were inefficient."
"…They were expendable."
A pause.
"…You are not."
The air tightened.
Two presences collided.
Seiferus adjusted his grip slightly.
"…You're not a soldier."
"…No."
"…Good."
The man moved.
Fast.
Seiferus met him—
_CLANG._
Spear and blade collided. The ground cracked beneath them.
They separated instantly.
The opponent attacked again—angles sharp, precise.
Seiferus deflected with minimal movement.
Every motion exact.
"…You're disciplined."
"…You're predictable."
A faint smile.
"…Let's change that."
The air warped.
Aether bent.
Reality distorted—slightly, but enough.
Seiferus stepped forward.
Not reacting—
Deciding.
The opponent struck first—blade aimed for the throat.
_CLANG._
Seiferus intercepted effortlessly.
"…Efficient."
Seiferus stepped in.
One strike.
The opponent twisted—barely avoided it. Cloth split.
"…Close."
They clashed again.
Strike. Counter. Shift.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
Each step calculated.
"…You don't waste anything."
"…You waste words."
The opponent stepped back.
"…Then let's make this interesting."
He vanished.
Reappeared behind—
Strike—
Seiferus shifted—barely.
Miss.
"…You're compensating."
"…And you're adapting."
The attacks accelerated.
Angles shifted mid-motion.
Reality bent around each strike.
Seiferus didn't retreat.
Didn't rush.
He stepped forward—
Into it.
A strike came—
He didn't block.
He moved past it.
Inside the attack.
_THRUM._
His spear drove forward.
The opponent twisted—
The tip grazed his side.
Intentional.
"…You're reading me."
"…You're repeating patterns."
The opponent stopped.
Thinking.
And that—
Was the mistake.
Seiferus moved.
Not faster.
More precise.
Every angle closed.
Every path denied.
The opponent attacked—
Seiferus didn't defend.
He interrupted.
The strike broke mid-motion.
The second never formed.
The third—
Didn't exist.
The distance vanished.
The opponent realized.
Too late.
Seiferus stepped once.
The world narrowed.
A single line.
Clean.
Unavoidable.
He thrust.
_SHRAKK._
The spear pierced through.
Perfect.
Silence.
The distortion collapsed.
The opponent looked down.
"…So this is the difference…"
A faint breath.
"…Good."
No fear.
Only understanding.
"…The fracture…"
"…will still come."
Seiferus pulled the spear free.
The body fell.
Gone.
"…You're late."
Athos stood ahead.
Still.
"…You're finished."
A pause.
"…Opponent was competent."
"…Dead?"
"…Yes."
Athos stepped closer. His gaze passed over Seiferus—not checking. Confirming.
"…Injury?"
"…None that matter."
"…Noted."
"…They're not attacking to destroy," Seiferus said.
"…They're measuring."
Athos nodded faintly.
"…Response time."
"…Stability."
"…Weak points."
"…Then this isn't a raid."
"…No."
"…It's a beginning."
Silence settled.
Heavy.
"…Elderglen," Athos said.
"…Confirmed."
"…Then we move."
---
The forest held its breath.
Seraphel hovered beside Elowyn, its light dimmed but present.
Filo's hand moved to her weapon.
"…We're not alone."
A step.
Stillness.
Athos.
And beside him—
Seiferus.
Aetherwyn blinked.
"…You brought backup."
Filo smirked faintly.
"…That's not backup."
"…That's overkill."
Seiferus's gaze landed on Seraphel.
"…Light-aligned."
Athos said nothing—but watched longer.
"…You shouldn't be here," Athos said.
"…I know," Elowyn replied.
"…But I am."
Seraphel's light intensified slightly.
Seiferus's grip tightened—just enough.
"…That's not standard."
"…Greater Spirit," Filo said.
"…That's a big deal, right?" Aetherwyn asked.
"…Yes," both answered.
"…Rensuko Aktaki," Athos said.
"…We fought him," Filo replied.
"…He escaped."
"…He initiated the fracture."
"…This isn't contained," Seiferus added.
"…It's spreading."
"…So what now?" Aetherwyn asked.
"…We move," Athos said.
"…Before it escalates."
"…To where?"
Athos looked deeper into the forest.
"…The origin."
The deeper they went—
The worse it became.
The forest twisted subtly. Wrong angles. Displaced roots.
"…It's spreading."
"…No," Athos said.
"…It's being placed."
A figure stood ahead.
Waiting.
"…Another one."
"…You're in the way," Seiferus said.
The man smiled faintly.
"…That's the point."
They moved.
Brief.
Clean.
Gone.
More appeared.
Surrounding.
Watching.
"…They're not attacking."
"…They don't need to."
One stepped forward.
"…You felt it, didn't you?"
"…The fracture."
"…What do you want?"
"…To see."
A pause.
"…How long it takes you to understand.
Seraphel flared.
The agents reacted—subtly.
"…You brought something dangerous."
"…Try something," Filo said.
A pause.
A smile.
"…Not today."
"…You think this is the source."
"…It isn't."
"…Then what is?"
"…A beginning."
They stepped back.
Together.
Not fear.
Choice.
"…We'll be seeing you again."
"…Soon."
Gone.
All of them.
"…I don't like that," Aetherwyn said.
"…They're guiding us," Seiferus replied.
"…Or measuring."
Athos looked ahead.
Then—
Stopped.
"…We turn back."
"…What?"
"…We're close," Filo said.
"…We're expected," Athos replied.
Silence.
That changed everything.
"…This isn't a strike zone."
"…It's a setup."
Seiferus nodded.
"…We lose control if we continue."
Athos looked at Elowyn.
"…You are now a target."
Filo exhaled.
"…Alright."
"…We head back."
Aetherwyn looked once more into the forest.
Something was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
"…This isn't over."
"…It hasn't started yet."
---
The city stood.
Damaged—but recovering.
Fast.
It always did.
They entered the inner chamber.
King Aerthas stood waiting.
"…Report."
"…Fracture-aligned forces confirmed," Athos said.
"…Organized."
"…Intentional."
"…Testing operations," Seiferus added.
"…Response evaluation."
"…As expected," the king said.
Aetherwyn frowned.
"…You expected this?"
"…Something," the king replied.
"…Not this soon."
"…They're preparing," Filo said.
"…Not attacking yet."
"…Correct."
The king's gaze moved to Elowyn.
Relief.
Contained.
"…You're safe."
"…I am."
"…That presence…"
"…Greater Spirit," Athos said.
The king exhaled slowly.
"…Then we are already behind."
"…This is system-wide," Athos said.
"…A fracture event."
"…Then we prepare."
The king stepped forward.
His voice steady.
"…Effective immediately…"
Silence filled the chamber.
"…I will begin preparations for succession."
Aetherwyn blinked.
"…What?"
"…Within five years…"
"…Princess Elowyn Vaelorin will take the crown."
Silence.
Heavy.
"…That's early," Filo said.
"…It's necessary."
"…The world is changing," the king continued.
"…Faster than before."
His gaze rested on Elowyn.
"…And she will be ready."
---
## **One Month Later**
The city didn't rest.
It adapted.
- Patrols increased
- Guild activity expanded
- Rift monitoring intensified
Filo trained Aetherwyn relentlessly.
"…Again."
"…I just—"
"…Then do it better."
He improved.
Not wildly.
But consistently.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
More controlled.
Elowyn trained too.
Carefully.
Watched.
Seraphel always beside her.
The world didn't calm.
It settled.
Like something waiting—
For the moment it finally breaks.