The Second Realm thrummed with vitality at every corner. Clear blue skies stretched endlessly above, while the golden streets shimmered under the sun’s warm embrace. Buildings, more than mere houses, rose with intricate, a mix of ingenious and futuristic designs that seemed to hum with the faint lifeforce of its history. Schools, colleges, and research centres populated every district of Arcanor, the famed capital where innovation met tradition.
At its heart stood a towering castle, its weathered stone walls whispering tales of a legendary past. Guards in crimson coats, each armed with gleaming blades, patrolled the lush gardens blanketing the castle grounds. Children frolicked through these fields, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves. Some played tag, others huddled over chessboards, while a few found solace in the tranquillity of solitude under the trees.
Sudden shouts from the castle’s upper floors sent pigeons flying into the sky. Inside, Kabi, Lord of the Ninth, slammed his fist against a polished oak table.
“What do you mean Mikah will be late?” he growled, his glare fixed on Kinna, Lord of the Fifth. "Absurd! Truly absurd!" He dropped into his chair, his red cloak pooling around him. Like the other lords present, his robe bore the emblem of a white rose—a mark of their unity.
“Patience, Kabi,” Missui, Lady of the Second, said as she adjusted her spectacles. She sipped her tea with measured grace, the steam framing her aged but dignified features. Brushing a strand of white hair aside, she continued, “We’re all aware of the state of the realms. Perhaps we should be more understanding.”
Kinna, an older man of nobility and scholarly refinement, helped himself to a plate of pastries. “I agree,” he said with a sigh. “Dvalin has his crises, while Ansan is busy fortifying his borders, preparing for the worst. Who’s to say he won’t be the next target?” He exchanged a glance with Missui, his tone softening. “Your family, the Falcrests, always stood out. Even your predecessor bore the same name and poise, young lady.”
Missui chuckled, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. “How kind of you to remember,” she said, her tone light. “My father only attended the last meeting out of formality. Or is it that you doubt this ‘young lady’ can manage the Second Realm, Honorable Lord Kinna?”
Kinna waved her off, his attention returning to his scone. “On the contrary, I’m glad to see a woman in power again. It’s been far too long. I’m merely... surprised.”
Meanwhile, Kabi stared at his untouched plate of peas, his fists tightening. “Does everyone see this as some kind of joke?” he whispered. “To our very people, we are seen nothing more as clowns. For over a century, the Lords have avoided gatherings like this. Now, in a moment as critical as this, some can’t even show up on time!”
Kinna called for a maid to approach, requesting tea. The maid, dressed in the signature uniform of the Second Realm—a blue and white lace ensemble with glass spectres draping down her skirt—stepped forward. Strapped to her arm was an intricate mechanism, a weapon-like device. She poured the tea in silence before retreating with a bow.
He took a sip, turning his attention to Kabi. “Your anger clouds your understanding, my friend,” he said, his tone measured. “We are not Mikah that you must act so... unruly toward.” Another sip followed, his brow furrowing. “I sympathise with your frustrations. Our people may indeed see us as jesters, but this treaty—though unpopular—might be our only hope. The situation worsens with every passing day.”
Kabi sighed. “The Fourth Realm is on the brink of collapse. We have the soldiers, the gifted adventurers, and more than enough funds to deal with this crisis. Yet here we are, allowing one of our own to tarnish the reputation of the Nine Lords while he shirks his responsibilities!”
“Less sugar, please,” Missui said to her maid, preparing a new cup before addressing Kabi. “I see you’ve misunderstood the true nature of the Fourth’s predicament.”
“Then enlighten me”
Kabi smiled, “Yes, yes you understand back then we were scared of losing the people since they were captured but now these hunters don’t plan to hurt the civilians they could even leave before the battle commenced so why aren’t we attacking? This is our chance!”
“Darius Locke,” Missui whispered. “That is my answer”
Kinna’s teacup trembled in his hand before he set it down. His sharp gaze met Missui’s. “So that’s it,” he said. “This matter has already surpassed our abilities.”
Kabi roared, hurling his plate to the floor, the crash echoing through the chamber. “Damn it! Of all the hunters—why him?” His voice dropped to a strained whisper as he clutched his head. “Darius Locke.”
The maids froze where they stood, their faces pale and their hands trembling. Missui noticed their unease and offered them a gentle smile. “I understand your fear. A monster has crossed our borders,” she said. “Even as an isolated nation, his name precedes him—the man who once challenged the kings of this world. The Supreme Being. The Demon King. The Emperor of Dragons.”
Kinna stroked his beard. “But why would a figure of his stature work with a swordsman like Jinni? A man whose only ambition seems to be opposing the Nine Realms. Darius has always avoided politics ever since he surfaced.”
Missui’s eyes narrowed. “Jinni is no ordinary swordsman,” she said, her voice sharp. “You truly lack information, don’t you?”
The room fell into uneasy silence. The Nine Realms lacked a centralised means of communication; news travelled slowly, carried by messenger birds to scattered reporters, who then posted updates on city boards. It was an outdated system for an evolving world, something that has been bothering Missui before she even came into power. Still, it wasn’t an excuse for the Lords.
Missui sighed, placing her cup down. “Jinni single-handedly defeated an entire battalion. He brought every weapon under his control, forcing even the most seasoned warriors to kneel. A power Dvalin himself would be wise to fear.” She leaned forward. “As for why Darius aids him, my sources uncovered something.”
“What did they find?” Kabi asked.
“He seeks the Blade of Miru,” Missui said, her voice dropping. “I trust you’re familiar with the legend?”
Kabi scoffed. “A mythical blade that changes form? A slime weapon? Fairy tales for children. Why would he spend his time chasing a false dream?”
Kinna nodded in agreement. “Such a thing doesn’t exist. There's no record of it in history also”
Missui shook her head, her piercing gaze silencing their objections. “It does,” she said, her voice firm. “And only one man in this nation knows of its history—the late Tankenu, Jinni’s former master. Now do you see?”
Kabi turned toward the window, the weight of realization settling on him. “Mother of Mikah,” he whispered. “May the others have the strength to withstand this calamity. What power must this man attain to satisfy his thirst?
*
Darius stood, his gaze fixed on the dark skies above. The clouds writhed, entwined with the serpentine forms of roaring dragons that wove themselves through the storm. His fists tightened as he steadied his breathing. This power... His eyes followed the interplay of monstrous forms above. As I thought, it’s not a gift. How bothersome. What could it be, then?
On the ground, Pasta and Kabal remained frozen, their bodies paralyzed by the overwhelming force of Darius’s earlier burst of energy. The air still trembled with its lingering resonance.
“This… this is the same,” Pasta said, his voice low as he hugged himself. Memories flooded back, unbidden. Pyrovile—engulfed in flames, its streets a maelstrom of despair and confusion. He remembered how the chaos had briefly ebbed, only to give way to a greater horror: a demon descending from the skies, its presence under the command of Mr. Swordsman. The sea of dragons above radiated the same crushing aura.
Ever since that day... Pasta thought. I’ve poured everything into honing my life force, replaying every battle in my head, striving to grow stronger. He clenched his chest as if trying to keep his heart from bursting. And yet, how could I ever hope to surpass a man like him? like Mr Swordsman? Can I ever arrive at their level?
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
His eyes drifted upward once more, observing the pulsating energy around Darius. This aura—so this was the cause. No one needed to alert them of our arrival. With his energy this potent, he could locate anyone within miles, especially those with strong life forces. It was never a question of secrecy; it was inevitability. Yet here I am blaming my friends, never even considering such strength even existed. How naive am I?
Lowering his head, Pasta’s gaze shifted to Kabal, whose expression remained transfixed by the otherworldly display above. Just how naive were we all? To try to fight that man.
On the battlefield's far side, Zephyr held the end of a shattered chain, the remnants of her blade scattered to dust. "This is... unfortunate—"
Bastian scooped her up, evading Tori’s spinning scythe that darted after them. He ran with a booming laugh, dodging the attempts of the weapon to strike them as he headed towards Ryder.
“You’re not getting away,” Tori said, her glasses flared with chaotic energy readings, flickering as they scanned the sky. So this is the power of the disciples’ leader… Her gaze flickered to Pasta and Kabal, who remained frozen on the ground.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can’t afford to let them escape."
Ryder’s sharp eyes flicked between Darius and the stormy skies above. “I’ll take your word that you won’t involve yourself with our plans any longer since this is what you’ve always wanted,” he said to Darius, who did not respond.
“Put me down, you oaf!” Zephyr yelled, stabbing at Bastian’s rocky shoulder. He paid no attention, grinning as he skidded to a halt beside Ryder.
Ryder glanced toward Pasta and Kabal, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I sensed something familiar,” he whispered before smirking. “Let’s settle this another time, Pasta.”
With that, Bastian stomped the ground, triggering a massive ice pillar that launched them skyward and out of sight.
“Damn it, they got away,” Tori said, as her weapon returned to her hand.
Falcon stepped forward. “We’ve got bigger problems than those three”
The clouds raged once more, lightning cracking through the clouds. Darius turned to Dain, his voice low. “So, you’re leaving now?”
Dain moved to stand beside him, gazing at the sea of dragons that coiled in the storm. “You’re not the only reason I came,” he whispered. “I also need to meet a certain guild master. You were right—I need to loosen up. I’ve already decided that.”
“Good,” Darius whispered. “Next time, we’ll share a drink. And don’t forget your mother and I still expect a grandson.”
Dain’s shoulders sagged slightly as he gave a small smile. “She keeps saying the same thing in her letters. You two are too alike—always pressuring others with your overwhelming presence even through text.”
Darius allowed himself a little smile before stomping the ground with enough force to crack the ice beneath him. “Thorne!”
Thorne, now in his humanoid beast form, strode forward. “Yes?”
“Assist Dain.”
“Okay.”
Dain sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m a grown man, you know. I don’t need a babysitter.” He turned to Falcon and Tori. “Don’t mind my father. This is his way of saying you should relax.”
Falcon and Tori exchanged confused glances.
“I’ll be back in two weeks,” Dain continued, pulling his mask from his belt. “Until then, stay out of trouble—especially with Jinni hunters.”
“We can’t just leave you alone with... him,” Tori said.
Dain froze, glaring at her, the mask dangling from his hand. Without a word, he donned it and turned away. “You both disobeyed my orders by interfering here. Consider this your punishment.”
Tori stepped back, lowering her head in silence. Falcon followed suit.
Dain sighed, his tone softening. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine with a bodyguard like Thorne. Just look at him—he’s a walking tank.”
Thorne rumbled, placing a massive hand on Dain’s head. “Let’s move. You know how he gets when he goes all out.”
Darius stared at him for a moment before creating a portal. “Damn, I almost forgot,” he said.
Darius’s gaze darkened as he stepped forward, flexing his muscles. The air around him rippled with raw energy, and he leapt into the storm, vanishing into the sea of roaring thunder and dragons.
Dain waved to the others. “Get moving, now! That includes you two!” he screamed at Pasta and Kabal, who remained seated, staring dumbfounded at the chaos above.
Pasta blinked, his gaze drawn to the dragons swirling through the storm. Something about the sight stirred a deep unease in him. He lowered his eyes, only to spot a spinning scythe barreling straight for him. Without a second thought Pasta and Kabal yelled as they bolted through the portal.
“Good work,” Dain whispered. “The last thing we need is to be targeted by the adventurers here.”
Tori adjusted her glasses, which transformed back into a mask, and followed the others through the portal.
The storm intensified, lightning tearing through the skies as the ground quaked with fury. The ice cracked and shattered, obliterating the battlefield, leaving nothing but destruction.
*
The woman lounged in a revealed velvet dress that clung to her curves, its neckline dipping to expose her ample bosom. She drew from a pipe, smoke curling around her in delicate spirals. The room was alive with golden lanterns illuminating the space. Cherry blossom trees, their petals swaying in the air, enchanted by an unseen rhythm. She exhaled, her crimson eyes half-lidded with a mix of mischief and thought.
"Complications, complications," she whispered, her voice like silk brushing against stone. She turned her head, her dark fox-like tail swaying. "Am I not right, Sparrow?"
Sparrow stood at the entrance, a bird perching on his finger. His fur coat framed his slender figure, the faint gleam of a pocket watch catching the light as he checked the time. “I plan to make this quick,” he whispered. His gaze wandered, taking in the blossoms that danced around them. “The scent of these flowers… draw me in like the warmth of a mother’s embrace or perhaps the songs of a siren”
The woman chuckled, her crimson lips curling into a teasing smile. She reclined further, her fair skin glowing amidst the falling petals as she ran her fingers over her form, tracing the curve of her tail with an almost playful allure.
“You seem composed- too composed, in fact,” she said, studying him. “You’ve heard of my existence and yet dared to visit me yourself?”
“When the world is on the brink of ruin, whatever crosses the eyes becomes nothing more but mere obstacles or solutions,” he turned to her, the bird flying off his finger. “Tell me, demon. Are you an obstacle or a solution?”
She stretched, her tail curling around her. With a flick of her wrist, she gestured to the ornate chessboard on the table before her. “Care to join me, your honourable?”
Sparrow said nothing as he sat on the floor, making the first move on the board. “Your life force doesn’t feel like one of a demon so why didn’t you correct me?”
“Leaving you to your delusions would benefit the both of us,” she whispered, pushing a pawn. “The Nine Realms have shown far too much interest in me, as it is.”
“I can see why,” he replied, moving his piece.
She played again, eyeing him. “Tell me, what do you want, Sparrow? You defied nobles who swore to protect my secret. You even killed your friend to earn my trust.” Her voice lowered. “You’re a fascinating piece in this game.”
“Did I succeed?” he asked, sliding his king. “Earning your trust that is”
“Hmm. Did you succeed?” she repeated, feigning contemplation as she advanced her bishop, snatching his hanging rook. “For now, I’ll say I appreciate what you’ve done. My apprentice also would be glad.”
“I don’t wish for much,” he said, forking her queen, and looked up to her. “All I want is entertainment”
Sparrow smiled as birds flew into the room, their wings careful not to disturb the delicate cherry branches.
She returned his smile. “How splendid. We wish the same, then. I knew I’d like you the moment I saw your gift, Sparrow,” she said, sliding closer. Her tone drew him in as her crimson eyes narrowed. “We are alike, but—”
She plays her rook, checking the king. “We chase different dreams. While I delight in toying with humans, I have a greater purpose to fulfill.”
He chuckled, moving his king out of danger. “A goal, you say? I’ve achieved all there is to achieve. Goals are mere words to me now—but I still need to see it.”
Her smile faded as she moved her queen out of the fork, checking the king again. “What do you wish to see?”
Adjusting his spectacles, he pushed a bishop into position, blocking her check while threatening her rook. “The future of the nine realms... or the birth of the tenth.”
"Isn't the birth the future of the nine realms?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
“How about a draw for now,” he said, extending his hand toward her which she accepted. “Now time for other business”
She stared at him. “What business, honourable?”
The woman’s eyes gleamed, her smile returning but darker now, as though she’d been waiting for this moment. “Ah,” she whispered. “How interesting.”
*
Two masked hunters moved along the upper levels of the capital, their dark wooden masks concealing their faces. The elevated city shimmered with icy structures, their intricate and unique designs a stark contrast to the dense, rugged architecture of the lower layers. The streets bustled with energy as fireworks burst above the coliseum, signalling the beginning of both grand entertainment and bustling trade. The same mechanism were also here above the city to lighten up the snow storms but this was different from the others.
Above them, sparkling lights danced through the snow-filled skies, forming mesmerising images of popsicles and the realm’s crest. Decorations lined up the streets also like a snowy festival. The smaller hunter was out of words, pulling out a book and scribbling as if wanting to tear the pages, desperate to capture the moment.
The taller hunter gave her a sharp nudge to keep up the pace.
“Hey! No hunters are allowed here! Masked or not!” An officer yelled, blowing his whistle.
Before the smaller hunter could respond, the taller one grabbed her wrist. They darted toward a series of posts, leaping onto them. The smaller hunter gasped as they swung across colourful ribbons strung between buildings, the wind rushing past them.
“Wait! I wasn’t done taking notes!” the smaller hunter yelled.
“Would you keep quiet, we’re not here for a tour now, are we?” she shot back, jumping into a dark alley and continued forward.
The smaller hunter skidded to a stop, catching her breath. “Don’t you think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be?” she asked. Her fingers hovered near her mask. “No one even knows who you are here. Just take it off already.”
“You don’t know that,” the taller hunter said. “I’d rather not end up on another fugitive list. The last thing I need is the law breathing down my neck again.”
The smaller hunter sighed before removing her mask. Emilia’s hair spilt free, cascading over her shoulders as she stretched her trembling hands toward the taller hunter. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “Come on now,” she said. “Hand it over.”
Astria shrugged and handed it to Emilia, revealing delicate features framed by pointed ears
Emilia's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as her wide eyes sparkled. “My elf prince,” she whispered.
“I’m a lady”
Emilia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, with a bright smile. “Not one bit!”