The story continues on the road to Brilfax City. Falkor was riding in a carriage with Christana and Eyva, heading toward the city to attend the funeral ceremony of Mother Elora and the fallen nuns.

As Falkor gazed out of the window, he seemed lost in his own thoughts, wearing a sorrowful expression, as if he had lost his purpose, leaving behind only a hollow shell.

Christana held a book in her hands, but upon closer inspection, it was clear she had been staring at the same page for hours. In truth, she couldn't focus on the words, her mind consumed by memories and grief for the woman who had been a mother figure all her life. Mother Elora, who had raised Christana and her brother, was now gone, leaving a void that reading could not fill.

For Eyva, the time she had spent with Mother Elora was brief, but it held a special place in her heart. She had learned valuable lessons and felt genuine love and care from the woman. Though Eyva had a mother of her own, Mother Elora had carved out a unique space in her heart, making her death especially difficult.

Upon their arrival, two nuns greeted them with sombre smiles. Falkor turned to one of them and inquired, "Sister Syw, is everything prepared?"

Sister Syw met Falkor's gaze and said, "Yes, Priest Falkor. The fallen nuns have been preserved with magic to protect their bodies until the funeral. Mother Elora would have been disappointed if we hadn't taken care."

Falkor nodded. "Lead the way, Sister."

An hour later, in the Temple of Light on the second floor, Falkor dressed in the ceremonial attire of a priest—a black and gold robe reserved for special occasions.

Soon, Christana entered the room, wearing a white and gold nun's habit. She had been promoted for her bravery during the ghoul invasion. With a mournful expression, she looked at Falkor and asked, "Are you ready?"

Falkor glanced at her, fighting to hold back his tears. "Yes, let's not keep them waiting."

Christana nodded and moved towards the door, but halted after a few steps. She murmured, "I never thought this day would come. The day we bid our final farewell to Mother Elora."

Falkor nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Me too, Chrisa."

A few minutes later, the temple's main entrance was filled with people—knights, ghouls, elves, dwarfs, and even a few devil adventurers whom Mother Elora and the fallen sisters had aided during their lives. Seated at the front were nuns and priests of various ranks, especially the golden nuns, who had been Mother Elora's closest companions, almost like family. Priest Moty, the kingdom's highest-ranking figure and holder of the temple's esteemed diamond rank, was also present.

In the far north corner of the hall stood the wooden coffins of the deceased nuns who had succumbed to the ghouls. Each one was meticulously crafted, bearing colours indicative of their ranks. However, it was the first row that captured everyone's attention—an elegant coffin adorned in golden hues, cradling Mother Elora.

The city was steeped in sorrow; the entire hall reverberated with a respectful hush in honour of the fallen sisters.

This sombre silence persisted as Falkor descended the stairs, with Christana and Eyva following in his wake. He stood before the coffins, directly facing Mother Elora's.

He breathed in slowly, as though gathering his strength, or perhaps trying to rouse himself from this nightmarish reality to greet Mother Elora with a smile, just as he always had. Yet, this time was different—because this was reality, and his darkest fears had materialized. All he could do was accept it.

With a voice that carried through the hall, Falkor addressed the gathered crowd. "The sisters who perished in the recent tragedy were true heroines. They aided and rescued the poor and weak, leaving an indelible mark on our hearts."

He took a few steps toward the blue-painted coffin and continued, "Sister Celestia was but a 20-year-old nun with a radiant smile. She always told me she loved helping people, and that's what bestowed that lovely smile upon her."

Tears welled up in the eyes of some attendees. Falkor moved on to the second row, his gaze fixed on a coffin. A small tear trickled down from his right eye as he spoke, "Sister Isadora, at times, went without sleep for days. When illness swept through Lavender village years ago, she tirelessly dispensed medicines and healing magic to the afflicted. Even with all the other nuns, she insisted people needed her, and she couldn't rest while they were still sick and suffering."

Two ghouls nodded somberly in the back, tears streaming down their faces. Falkor then moved to the last row, gazing at a coffin as he spoke, "Sister Ophelia was always the joker, her pranks are what kept me here in the temple all these years. She was diligent, but she knew how to bring laughter when needed."

There were smiles, but the tears continued to flow, even two young devils struggling to maintain composure while looking away.

Next, Falkor walked to the first row, standing before Mother Elora's coffin. His face was already wet with tears as he whispered, "Mother Elora, the woman I cherished and the nun who saved my life years ago."

Turning to the crowd, he added, "If I were to list all her virtues, we'd be here for a while. If she were in my place, this ceremony would have concluded, and I'd already be laid to rest."

People chuckled, including Christana and Eyva, though their tears still fell. Falkor pressed on, "Even though this is incredibly difficult for me, I must accept her departure. I am grateful to have been close to her, to have spent these years with such a loving and kind soul. Mother Elora may have left, but I will never forget her. I will never allow myself to forget the woman I loved and respected."

Some nodded in agreement, others wiped their eyes, and some fought to maintain composure. Falkor's tone grew serious, "This tragedy, the ghoul invasion, was brutal and heart-wrenching, claiming the lives of many pure souls. But it is also a lesson for all of us!"

All eyes were on Falkor, his resolve palpable as he addressed the attentive crowd, "The news has already spread about the noble Yufs and Priest Gyv being held responsible for what transpired."

Nods of acknowledgement rippled through the crowd. However, Priest Moty regarded Falkor with evident annoyance. Falkor continued, undeterred, "Throughout our history books, one theme remains constant—an assertion that this kingdom never initiates conflict, yet conflict unfailingly finds us. The war with the elves, they claim, was their doing!"

Among the audience were elves who listened in silence. Falkor's voice rose, "The prior conflicts with ghouls—the books contend they were the initial aggressors. The devils before them, the demons three centuries past—all labelled as instigators. The books repeat this narrative that our kingdom was always a bastion of peace and that others were the source of harm. I call that Krogbakh's shit!"

All eyes were fixed on Falkor, a mix of shock, surprise, and contemplation. He pressed on, determined, "I refuse to accept it! I refuse to accept that our kingdom has forever been a hapless victim of misfortune! I may not be well-versed in history, and I may not have witnessed most of it, but one undeniable truth emerges from history: the animosity we harbour toward one another!"

Due to Falkor's words, the attendees exchanged glances: devils with elves, ghouls with demons, dwarfs with humans, then back to Falkor, who declared, "The news has already reached you. Twenty years ago, a wretched noble and a disgraceful excuse for a priest massacred ghouls, razed their villages, and plundered their resources. They then convinced the kingdom for two decades that the ghouls had lost their minds!"

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People, including Christana and Eyva, fixed their gaze on Falkor as he pressed on, "Our greatest issue has always been our inability to accept other races! We continually incite conflict and bemoan it when it no longer suits our purposes! This must end. We must turn to the person beside us and declare that we live in peace. That's enough!"

After hearing this impassioned speech, the attendees exchanged understanding glances: elves with dwarfs, devils with humans.

Falkor then addressed the assembly, saying, "I encountered a demon not long ago. He aided me in saving the nuns, even if his motives weren't entirely altruistic. What did I do in return? I deceived him into joining the battle when the ghouls attacked."

The room fell into a hushed silence, even Christana bowing her head, trying to put that day behind her. Falkor continued, "You know what he said? He remarked that we humans always resort to this! When did we become so callous and cruel, viewing other races as mere tools of war or troublesome neighbours!?"

Heads nodded in agreement, and Falkor pressed on, "The war with the ghouls was our own making, and we paid dearly for it. I make you this promise: I will never allow such a tragedy to occur again! This hatred must cease, and we must begin to change our ways before they lead us to ruin!"

More nods followed, and Falkor wiped away his tears as the burial ceremony commenced.

Afterwards, the temple arranged a grand feast for the city, where people indulged in an array of dishes in honour of the fallen sisters.

Falkor sat on the second row of steps, while Eyva was tucked into a corner, face in her hands, still haunted by memories of Mother Elora.

Christana stood by the main entrance, clutching her left arm, tears flowing silently.

After a few minutes, Priest Moty stormed into the temple, his face flushed with anger. He brushed past Christana, heading straight for Falkor.

Standing before him, he shouted in fury, "YOU FOOL! You've shown disrespect to Gyv, a diamond-ranked priest! Are you mad? You have no idea how crucial our image and reputation are, and yet you speak ill of one of our own!"

Falkor rose to his feet, his anger evident, "IT'S THE DAMN TRUTH! GYV WAS A DAMN TRAITOR TO ALL OF US!"

Falkor's furious demeanour startled Moty, who took a step back. Falkor pressed on, "The truth will come out regardless. News spreads faster than owls!"

Moty locked eyes with Falkor, insisting, "Gyv was a good man, consumed by greed, but in the end, he loved his kingdom above all else!"

Falkor stared back, his voice seething, "Are you out of your mind!? Ghoul women were murdered while pregnant! They were raped, children were killed, and ghouls were burned alive! And you claim he loved his damn kingdom!? Let him rot in hell, him and his so-called love!"

Mot tried to respond, but he remained silent. Falkor declared, "We are corrupted to the core! But I promise you that I will do everything I can to change it! I don't care what it will take me! Years, blood, sweat, comrades! I will change this corrupted behaviour even if I have to stain my hands with the blood of high-ranking priests and nuns!"

Moty stared at Falkor, his face filled with fear. Falkor turned and left the temple with Christana and Eyva, leaving Moty alone.

The following morning, on the road to Dyka village, Yory and Joe were riding, while Tyva was writing words on paper and helping Lana learn to speak.

Pointing to a childlike drawing of a school, Tyva asked, "And what's this? Can you name it?"

Lana blushed, and Yory, noticing, reassured her, "Don't push yourself, Lana. It's your first attempt, after all. It took me 200 years to say 'marvellous' correctly."

Lana smiled, then turned to Tyva with determination and said, "It's a s... school!"

Tyva smiled and praised, "Correct! Your pronunciation is good. Keep up the good work. Now, what about this?"

After a long day of travelling, they stopped to rest and enjoyed a delicious dinner prepared by Joe.

With a satisfied expression, Yory remarked while eating, "If you weren't a merchant, I'd advise you to become a chef. Your cooking skills are legendary."

Joe smiled and responded, "When you're on your own, you have two options: either buy food from inns, which can be costly, or learn to cook for yourself and save some silver coins."

Tyva chimed in, "In my opinion, I believe both of you would excel at anything you set your mind to. You're both talented and humble."

Yory grinned and teased, "Nice words from a brat who used to mock my face. Where's Tyva, and what have you done with her?"

Tyva playfully retorted, "I doubt that dents your ego. You're still insufferable!"

Laughter filled the air as they continued their meal. Lana, however, remained quiet, staring at her plate. Yory observed her and pondered, "Does she want to join our conversation?"

He then turned to Lana and asked, "What do you think, Lana? Do you find me insufferable, or is Tyva the annoying one?"

All eyes turned to Lana, who smiled and, though speaking slowly, expressed, "I...... think.... of you..... as my fri.....ends."

Warm smiles greeted Lana's words. She continued, "Ex....cept you, Yory."

Surprised, Yory questioned, "Why? Am I not your friend too?"

Lana looked at Yory with a gentle, innocent smile and explained, "I see...... you as.... a father to me."

Yory's face softened, a big smile spreading across it. Joe and Tyva looked at Lana, smiling. Yory said with a smile, "If this is how you join a conversation, then I am happy to talk to you every day, Lana!"

Lana stood up and embraced Yory, who returned the hug, thinking, *I think my family will be surprised with this new member. I am excited to introduce Lana to my brothers and sisters!*

The next morning, the group entered Dyka village and immediately noticed three people clutching their arms in pain. Joe inquired, "What happened here?"

One of the men looked at Joe and explained, "The inn owner challenged us to an arm-wrestling match for a free night's stay, or we could pay 4 silver coins. I ended up paying an extra 2 silvers after I lost!"

Joe smiled and replied, "Good thing this wasn't the work of bandits. Have a good day, sir."

The men nodded, and Joe returned to the cart. Tyva laughed, "Those idiots! They don't realize that when someone proposes a bet out of nowhere, it means they have everything arranged in their favour, right Yory?"

Yory agreed, "Absolutely. Always be cautious, play it safe, and don't gamble with your safety, both in mind and body."

The group then proceeded to the inn where the owner, Rik, triumphed over another unfortunate merchant who winced in pain and handed Rik 2 silver coins.

Rik raised his arms triumphantly, showing off his muscles. He then turned to Joe and Yory, exclaiming, "Can either of you best me, lads!?"

Pointing his large finger at Joe, he continued, "You! Do you think you can defeat me? Well, I won't challenge the man who looks half-dead already!"

Yory scratched his nose in irritation, and both Tyva and Lana laughed. Joe, brimming with confidence, asserted, "We are four. Prepare our rooms."

Rik looked disappointed and said, "You want to pay for the rooms? So you're backing down from the challenge?"

Joe grinned and responded, "Who said that? Prepare our rooms because my victory over you is inevitable!"

Rik beamed and declared, "I love it! The challenge begins!"

In the demon kingdom, at that very moment, the Mother of Witches, Reyanna, found herself in a shadowy alley within one of the smaller cities known as Futaga. This city was situated to the west of the southern castle.

Reyanna awaited Rolf, and when he finally appeared, there was something noticeably different about him. His customary smile was absent, replaced by a solemn expression, and he remained in silence, wearing a serious demeanour.

Reyanna observed him, noticing the change in his demeanour, and remarked, "Stormy weather today?"

Rolf looked at her and replied, "No, I'm prepared for this. The new servants and maids in the Eastern Castle are my men, and they'll assist you in eliminating Jane Gyovani."

Reyanna smiled and said, "Finally, everything is set for this momentous event. I can't wait to see the look on her face before I end her life."

Rolf then turned to Reyanna and reminded her, "But remember our agreement. We must dismantle them from within."

Reyanna nodded firmly, "Of course, and our era will commence."

Then Rolf inquired, "And what about the other members of the royal family?"

Reyanna glanced at Rolf, a hint of disappointment in her eyes, and said, "My friend, Yoranios isn't here. The others are scattered far away, and one is already out of the picture. All we have left to face are the twins and their brother. Even Monroe won't be there; I sent him off to a fake festival in our lands to keep him away."

Rolf nodded, then a thought struck him and he voiced it, "What if they seek revenge? They'll come after us, and Yory's skills pose a challenge, especially the Void ability where he nullifies the magic of anyone weaker than him."

Reyanna gazed at Rolf with confidence, "By the time he catches wind of it, he'll already be alone, without family or an army to rely on, not even a kingdom, once I'm finished with it!"

At midnight, in the Western Castle of the Demon Kingdom, Jane was engrossed in a book, illuminated by three substantial candles.

As she read, a shadow emerged behind her. The figure took a few steps closer, and the candlelight revealed his face. It was Olwyn, who knelt before Jane and uttered, "My queen, there have been suspicious movements in recent times. Unfortunately, your doubts were justified."

Jane closed the book and turned her attention to Olwyn, who remained on his knees.

With a calm tone, Jane instructed, "Fetch me a royal owl, for this must be kept as secret as possible."

Olwyn nodded and inquired, "Of course, my queen. May I ask to whom you're sending the message?"

Jane looked at Olwyn and replied, "Yoranios."