Silas walked a few steps behind Lucius as they exited the council chamber.
The corridor was silent.
Ancient stone walls stretched endlessly around them, illuminated only by flickering magical lanterns.
Ahead of them, Elder Marcus and the hooded guest disappeared down another hallway.
Silas's eyes briefly shifted toward the figure.
Only for a moment.
His expression never changed.
No anger.
No surprise.
Nothing.
Lucius noticed.
"You know who that is, don't you?" he asked quietly.
Silas remained silent for several seconds before slowly shaking his head.
"No."
Lucius smirked.
"I don't believe you."
Neither spoke again as they continued walking.
Behind them, the Four Great Elders established a mind link.
Great Elder Amelia:
"We will be departing."
Great Elder Paul:
"Contact us when you learn more."
Great Elder Aerial:
"If a royal has truly appeared, this changes everything."
Great Elder Silas:
"The future has become uncertain."
Together, the Four Great Elders spoke:
"Our loyalty remains with Lord Lucius."
Moments later, all four vanished.
Not by walking away.
Not through a portal.
They simply disappeared.
Gone.
As if they had never been there.
⸻
Silas and Lucius eventually reached Lucius's private chambers.
The massive doors opened on their own.
The moment they entered, Lucius turned toward him.
"Well?"
Silas folded his arms.
"The pressure belonged to someone from the Blackwell bloodline."
Lucius's eyes narrowed.
"You are certain?"
"Yes."
Silence filled the room.
"But it wasn't her."
Lucius raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
Silas shook his head.
"The pressure was similar."
His eyes darkened.
"Yet different."
For the first time, genuine emotion appeared on his face.
Hatred.
Pure hatred.
"If there are surviving royals…"
His aura briefly flared.
"I will kill them."
The room trembled.
Lucius watched him carefully.
"What would you do about Marcus?"
Silas's expression hardened.
"He brought a royal into an Elder Council meeting."
A dangerous smile appeared.
"He clearly wishes to die."
Lucius chuckled.
"Perhaps."
He slowly walked toward the window overlooking the ancient city below.
"Or perhaps he knows something we do not."
Silas remained silent.
Lucius stared into the distance.
"A royal-level power has finally revealed itself."
His smile slowly faded.
"Now we simply need to discover where that power came from."
At those words, Silas suddenly froze.
A memory flashed through his mind.
A familiar presence.
A familiar feeling.
Something he had not felt in over two thousand years.
For a brief moment, uncertainty crossed his face.
Could it be…
No.
Impossible.
He buried the thought immediately.
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.
Lucius watched him leave.
The chamber became quiet once more.
Then Lucius muttered under his breath.
"History always finds a way to return."
⸻
Meanwhile…
Elder Malachi left the council hall alone.
Unlike the others, he had no interest in politics.
No interest in power.
Only answers.
The strange energy that had awakened across the world continued to linger in his mind.
He needed to know the truth.
His path eventually led him far beyond the city walls.
To a place few dared visit.
The Dark Arena.
A forgotten battlefield.
Long ago, it had been used for royal executions and blood duels.
Now it served only one purpose.
To imprison the Queen's final creation.
The Crownbound Beast.
Ancient chains covered the arena floor.
Thousands of magical seals glowed across the stone.
At the center lay a massive creature.
Sleeping.
Waiting.
The moment Malachi stepped onto the arena floor—
The creature's eyes snapped open.
BOOM.
The chains rattled violently.
The entire arena shook.
The beast rose against its restraints, pulling with enough force to crack the stone beneath it.
Malachi stared.
For thousands of years…
The creature had never reacted to anyone.
Not Lucius.
Not Hunter.
Not even Silas.
Yet now it struggled wildly.
As though it had sensed something.
Or someone.
The creature released a deafening roar.
Its enormous body trembled.
Not with rage.
Not with fear.
Recognition.
Malachi slowly stepped forward.
His heart pounded.
"No…"
The realization struck him immediately.
Only one person could provoke such a reaction.
The creator.
The Queen.
A smile slowly appeared on Malachi's face.
For the first time in centuries.
"The Queen…"
The creature roared again.
⸻
For a brief moment, Malachi's thoughts drifted back thousands of years.
Back before the war.
Before the betrayal.
Before the Queen's death.
Back when she was simply a little girl.
A little girl full of pride and endless energy.
He remembered the day they first met.
His older brother had pushed him to the ground and called him a bastard because he was the son of a maid.
Before Malachi could stand, the young princess came running across the courtyard.
Without hesitation, she shoved his brother backward.
"Leave him alone!"
His brother stared at her in shock.
The princess planted her hands on her hips.
"Weak-minded boys never grow into real men."
His brother immediately turned pale.
"If you touch him again," she said, pointing at him, "I'll tell my mother, and she'll cut out your tongue."
The boy took several steps backward.
The princess wasn't finished.
"And if your family touches him, I'll make sure none of you can use your hands ever again."
Terrified, his brother ran.
The princess watched him leave before turning back toward Malachi.
The anger vanished from her face.
Instead, she smiled.
One of her front teeth was missing.
She reached out her hand.
"Come on."
Malachi stared at her for a moment.
"Thank you."
The princess grinned.
"We're friends now."
Then she giggled.
That was the first time someone had ever stood up for him.
And from that day forward, he never forgot her.
⸻
Malachi closed his eyes.
Thinking.
Calculating.
If the Queen truly existed…
Then the power that awakened the bloodlines suddenly made sense.
But something still felt wrong.
The Blackwell bloodline had many secrets.
Yet one rule had always remained absolute.
The dead did not return.
Never.
Malachi opened his eyes.
A dangerous thought entered his mind.
"What if…"
His voice was barely a whisper.
"What if she was never resurrected?"
The creature suddenly became still.
The arena fell silent.
Malachi stared into the darkness.
The idea was absurd.
Impossible.
Forbidden.
Yet it refused to leave his mind.
His heart began to race.
"What if she was reincarnated?"
The word lingered in the air.
Reincarnation.
No spell had ever successfully achieved it.
No ritual had ever proven it possible.
Yet somehow…
It felt more believable than resurrection.
If anyone could defy the impossible—
it would be her.
The creature lowered its head.
As if listening.
As if waiting.
As if it already knew the answer.
Two thousand years of waiting.
Two thousand years of regret.
And for the first time—
Malachi felt hope.
A small smile touched his lips.
"If you're out there…"
His voice was soft.
"I'll find you."
The creature released a low rumble.
As if it understood.
As if it had been waiting all this time for the same answer.
Malachi turned and walked away.
The cold night air greeted him as he stepped out of the arena.
His mind was no longer filled with doubt.
Only purpose.
Somewhere in this world, the source of that power existed.
And if that source truly was the Queen reborn…
Then he would bring her home.
No matter the cost.
⸻
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