In the training chamber, Veyron sat in meditation.
Mana flowed slowly around his body, circulating like a disciplined current—obedient, restrained, as if he were attempting to grasp it completely rather than unleash it.
When Veyron opened his eyes, the sound of hurried footsteps shattered his concentration.
Taeryun stood at the threshold, his face pale, eyes wide.
"This… this isn't a Proto-Domain anymore," he murmured, barely able to believe it.
Veyron rose to his feet and looked at Taeryun. His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with fatigue—clear proof that he had barely slept.
Taeryun frowned. "Veyron… did you only sleep for a bit?"
"Yeah," Veyron replied irritably. "I kept thinking about how to explain why Lyra went home. Tried to sleep again—couldn't."
Taeryun let out a small laugh. He knew all too well that Veyron's lack of sleep was largely his own fault. But just as he turned to leave, Veyron's hand landed on his shoulder.
"Wait, Taeryun. There's something I want to show you. About where I got that dragon meat."
Taeryun snorted lightly. "From a regular dragon, right? I already guessed."
Veyron shook his head.
"That wasn't ordinary dragon meat," he said calmly.
"It came from the leg of the Dragon King."
Taeryun froze. The words struck him like a physical blow.
A light suddenly flared beside Veyron.
"Well," Veyron said, gesturing toward it, "this is the Dragon King."
From within the light, a spectral figure emerged—softly radiant, yet overwhelmingly oppressive.
"Hello, Veyron. How have you been?" Seraphyra greeted him, her tone playful.
Taeryun's mouth fell open. No introduction was necessary—the air around them stilled instantly, and even the slightest leak of her aura made his breathing heavy.
"V-Veyron…" His voice trembled.
"Don't tell me you formed a contract with the Dragon King?"
CRACK!
Seraphyra struck Taeryun faster than his eyes could follow, the impact echoing off the chamber walls.
"Veyron is not my contractor," she said coldly.
"Veyron is my ally."
She pointed at Taeryun, eyes narrowing.
"Remember this well, human. Because of that alliance, I do not kill you.
And because of it as well… I find your Domain intriguing."
A clearly predatory smile crossed her face.
Taeryun vanished instantly—fleeing without a trace.
Veyron and Seraphyra stared at each other in silence.
"Veyron," Seraphyra said flatly, "your friend is strange. I was merely speaking."
Thump.
Veyron lightly tapped her on the head.
"Why did you hit me?" Seraphyra protested, clutching her head. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"You did," Veyron replied as he walked out.
"That expression makes people think you're trying to exploit them."
Seraphyra clicked her tongue and turned away.
"Tch… humans are troublesome. I'll take my leave."
One by one, Veyron, Taeryun, and Seraphyra disappeared, leaving the training chamber in absolute silence.
---
Council Chamber
Within the council chamber of the Aethelgard Imperial Academy, every influential figure had gathered in a circular formation. Senior officials, the Student Council President, and the Vice President were all present.
At the center, five elders sat facing one another, engaged in grave discussion.
BANG!
The doors slammed open.
All heads turned at once.
A woman with long blue hair stepped inside, her white-and-blue robes swaying softly. A chilling pressure instantly flooded the room.
Name: Thalassyr Kael
Attribute: Water
Status: Fifth Pillar of World Balance
Guardian of the seas. One of the foundations sustaining the Aethelgard Imperial Academy.
The chamber, moments ago filled with heated debate about a Domain nearly covering the Northern Region, fell silent.
In a corner, two officials whispered—unaware their voices carried.
"Isn't that the Fifth Pillar? A guardian of world balance…"
"Yes. Thalassyr Kael. She can communicate directly with Leviathan, the Ocean Guardian Dragon."
Kael took her seat.
Every official rose simultaneously.
One elder stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Lady Kael," he said respectfully. "Have you come because you sensed the Sovereign Domain that nearly enveloped the Northern Region?"
Kael glanced at him, expression indifferent.
"Tch. You think I came for this farce of a meeting?"
"I am merely delivering a message from Lord Leviathan."
Silence.
Then quiet shock rippled through the room.
"Leviathan… has awakened?"
"Wasn't he asleep for five thousand years?"
Kael raised a hand.
"Silence."
The pressure of water intensified. Breathing became difficult.
"Listen carefully."
"The Aethelgard Imperial Academy is forbidden from conducting any open investigation into the Domain anomaly in the Northern Region."
Whispers immediately spread.
One official stood, his face defiant.
"We only seek to preserve world balance," he said arrogantly.
"Lord Leviathan has no right to interfere in Academy affairs."
Kael's gaze turned icy. Disdain filled her eyes.
"Covert observation is permitted," she said sharply.
"Open intervention is not."
She paused.
"Anyone who violates this—
will not be tried.
will not be punished.
and will not be remembered."
Absolute silence.
One official gathered the courage to speak, his voice shaking.
"Is this a threat against the Academy?"
Kael was already walking toward the door. She stopped and looked back.
"No.
It is a warning—so the Academy may continue to exist."
"If the identity of the anomaly is revealed prematurely…"
"…you will not merely be disobeying an order."
"You will be challenging the administrator of this world."
She left.
The pressure vanished. Several officials only then realized they had been holding their breath.
Yet the official who had spoken earlier protested again.
"We cannot fear Leviathan. We should fear the anomaly that could destroy the world."
One elder raised his hand sharply.
"We will observe quietly," he said firmly.
"And you will remain silent."
His gaze was razor-sharp.
"Did you not hear?"
"If we violate this, the Academy itself will cease to stand."
He turned to the Student Council President.
"You. Deploy the Academy's finest assassins.
Identify the anomaly—without leaving a trace."
The Student Council President bowed.
"Yes, First Elder."
He and his vice president departed.
Beyond the Academy's walls, the world began to move.
The Academy and the Empire—once neutral—were now both watching a single name.
Anomaly.
---
Southern Region — Reception Hall of the Ruling Estate
Two regional lords sat facing one another.
Their gazes were calm, their smiles thin—yet beneath them lay cunning refined over decades.
Their children stood at their sides.
The rulers' smiles were born of interest.
Their children's smiles… of coercion.
---
Name: Vhalorien Noctyrr
Title: Baron
Epithet: Ruler of the Southern Region, architect of politics
Name: Dominus Malrec Astaroth
Title: Viscount
Epithet: Ruler of the Western Region, leader of a mysterious organization
---
A young man stepped forward first.
"Greetings, Princess Lyra."
He bowed politely. "My name is Caelric Montaigne, son of the Western Lord. I look forward to working with you."
His smile was flawless.
Too flawless—like a mask forcibly worn.
Lyra looked at him and saw her own reflection.
She took his hand. Her lips felt heavy, as though every word carried weight.
"Lyra Valenfyr," she said softly. "I look forward to it… as well."
The two lords exchanged glances—not of joy, but of satisfaction.
Vhalorien's smile widened.
"Shall we move the wedding forward, Malrec?" he said casually.
"The Northern Region is unstable. I fear that anomaly might disrupt this happiness."
His gaze sharpened.
"What do you think?"
Lyra's face drained of color. Her breath caught—as though a noose had tightened.
Malrec did not answer immediately. He studied Caelric for a long moment.
"Well, son?"
"Should we advance it?"
Caelric looked at Lyra.
The fear in her eyes—raw, unfiltered, and painful—was unmistakable.
He clenched his fist and spoke quietly, firmly.
"Father. I would like to speak with Princess Lyra alone."
He turned to Vhalorien.
"Uncle as well. Please give us a moment."
The two rulers exchanged looks… then stood.
Their footsteps faded.
The door closed.
Silence.
Lyra stood rigid, wary—ready to resist if necessary.
Caelric took a deep breath.
His expression changed.
Flat. Cold. Like someone who had lived too long without choice.
He placed a hand on the table, veins standing out.
"You don't need to be afraid, Princess Lyra," he said.
"I don't want this marriage either."
He turned toward the window.
"My heart… already belongs to someone else."
Lyra froze, confused.
"Then why," her voice trembled,
"did you accept it?"
Caelric gave a bitter smile.
"I am not Malrec's biological son," he said.
"I was found in the slums. Taken in. Given a name. Given status."
He clenched his fist.
"From that moment… I ceased to belong to myself."
He paused, his voice weakening.
"I met someone while returning from the capital. A poor woman I helped."
"And I was… a coward."
His eyes dulled.
"I never confessed my feelings.
Now I am bound, and that regret… never sleeps."
He looked back at her.
"My soul was given to the former Demon King—Astaroth.
That is why… my name is different."
Lyra remained silent for a long time.
Then, her voice nearly breaking:
"I too…"
"My soul was sold to two of the Seven Deadly Sins. Beelzebub… and Succubus."
She lowered her head.
"My mother died. Her soul… was completely devoured."
The silence pressed down heavily.
Caelric looked at Lyra.
There was empathy in his gaze—not hollow sympathy.
"Your eyes," he said softly,
"still hold hope."
Lyra smiled faintly, bitterly.
"There is someone…"
"But I don't know if he knows the wedding has been moved up."
At that moment, Caelric took her hand.
Warm. Firm. Sincere.
"He will come," he said with certainty.
"I trust the one you trust."
He smiled—for the first time, without pretense.
"I want to be free as well. I've lived too long in this nest."
They looked toward the window.
The blue sky stretched endlessly.
For the first time—
behind political shackles,
hope drew breath.
---
Aethelgard Imperial Academy — Library
Veyron sat alone at a reading table, a thick tome open before him. The library was quiet—until approaching footsteps disturbed the calm.
Elvaria emerged between the shelves, her natural allure immediately drawing attention. Several students glanced over, some pausing their studies, as if witnessing someone who did not belong in such a silent place.
Veyron did not look up. He turned a page calmly, as though Elvaria did not exist.
Elvaria took the seat beside him.
The attention of the room shifted to Veyron—more precisely, to the fact that Elvaria had chosen to sit there.
She opened her book, her tone casual, almost conversational.
"Veyron," she said softly,
"you know, don't you… political marriages usually wait until the season ends."
She paused, then continued, her voice still gentle yet deliberate.
"But when the world becomes unstable…"
"dates can be moved forward."
Veyron's fingers stopped on the page.
Without a word, he closed the book, stood, and walked away.
Elvaria's expression hardened instantly.
"Hey!" she said, rising.
"Why are you ignoring me, Veyron?!"
Veyron stopped a few steps away and turned back, genuinely puzzled.
"Huh?" he said flatly.
"I didn't do anything."
"You're the one who's been talking to yourself."
Several students held their breath.
Elvaria froze.
Heat crept up her face. She slowly sat back down.
Damn it…
Was I too quick to assume?
Or have I simply misjudged him all this time?
If he truly doesn't know…
…then someone is protecting him far too cleanly.
Veyron did not look back. He left the library.
His destination was simple—his room.
To sleep.
Even though the sun was still high, his mind was already overloaded.
---
In His Room — Late Afternoon
Veyron dropped into a chair. He removed his academy robe, leaving the book he had been reading on the desk.
Silence.
He closed his eyes.
Elvaria's words resurfaced.
"Dates can be moved forward."
"When the world is unstable."
The corner of Veyron's lips lifted slightly.
"Not a coincidence," he murmured.
He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.
"If it's been moved up…"
"then my time has been shortened."
Silence stretched for several seconds.
"And if someone feels the need to send a signal…"
"then I'm not as safe as I thought."
Veyron stood.
"Interesting."
He lay down on the bed.
The lights went out.
---
The Next Volume opens on January 12.