The remaining members of the Grand Four Generals gathered within the capital of Menssai, having received word that Lord Jace had returned and summoned them.
Nass, Nalia, and Drako were already present, seated and waiting in silence.
A heavy sigh escaped Drako for what felt like the tenth time.
He leaned back slightly, boredom written plainly across his face.
Nass shot a nervous glance in his direction.
Her thoughts drifted back to their last conversation—how strange it had been speaking to Drako like that. It was still something she hadn't quite gotten used to. What unsettled her most, though, were the things he'd said to her that day. They had been unexpected… and if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her had liked it.
She would never admit that out loud.
That discomfort made it hard for her to meet his eyes now.
Nalia noticed immediately.
"Hey…" she said cautiously. "Is everything alright with you? You're acting really weird…"
She tilted her head.
"…Was it my fault?"
Her eyes widened. "(gasp)… Did I do something again?"
Her lip trembled. "(sob)… I'm sorry, Nass… I'm so, so sorry!"
At that, Drako briefly turned his attention toward them—then looked away again, completely uninterested in the tears welling in Nalia's eyes.
"H-hey… no, no," Nass said quickly. "You did nothing wrong, Nalia, I promise. I-I'm just tired, that's all. Really."
She forced a reassuring smile.
"A-are you sure?" Nalia sniffed, tears and snot mixing freely on her face.
"Y-yes. Very sure," Nass replied, pulling out a handkerchief. "Here—clean your face before Lord Jace arrives, alright?"
Nalia took it enthusiastically, wiped her face thoroughly, then offered it back.
It was completely soaked and slimy.
"…Ugh," Nass recoiled instantly. "You can keep it. Just in case."
⸻
After what felt like an eternity, a guard entered the room.
"Lord Jace has returned," he announced. "He will be here shortly."
The atmosphere immediately shifted.
All three generals straightened their posture, adjusting themselves as minutes later the doors opened.
Jace entered the chamber, Demiurge and Kolpa walking at his sides.
The generals stood and knelt as he passed them, only rising once he took his seat.
"Sit," Jace commanded calmly.
As they obeyed, Nass was the first to speak.
"Lord Jace… pardon my curiosity, but I don't see Pyon. Was he assigned another mission?"
Jace sighed.
The sound alone sent a chill through the room.
"Of course you noticed quickly, Nass," he said. "Pyon was defeated in battle."
The women froze in shock.
Drako, on the other hand, let out a quiet breath of relief—followed by the faintest smile.
"He foolishly underestimated his enemies," Jace continued, "and paid the ultimate price."
His gaze hardened.
"Let this be a warning to all of you. In this new age of soul energy, do not believe yourselves invincible. Enter every battle as though it may be your last. The moment you look down on an opponent, you have already lost."
His voice sharpened.
"Do not bring shame to my faction as Pyon did. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Lord Jace," they answered in unison.
"Good," he said. "Now—why I summoned you."
Jace adjusted himself in his seat.
"We will discuss what transpired in Warmark… and what our next move will be."
He explained the events in detail—how his main objective had been achieved, though at the cost of Pyon and nearly half of his army. He also spoke of a discovery that Drako had previously mentioned.
"So… you came face to face with this person, my lord?" Nalia asked carefully.
Jace nodded.
"And my next discovery was even more shocking," he continued. "That masked man… is my elder brother."
Silence fell.
"Jericho."
Only Nass was struck with visible shock.
Drako showed no surprise—he already knew.
Nalia, however, looked completely lost.
"You… have a brother?" she asked quietly.
"He was someone I was certain had died in the war four years ago," Jace continued.
"But how… how is that even possible?" Nass asked, still struggling to accept it.
"He survived somehow," Jace replied. "I don't know the details. I didn't ask."
His voice grew cold.
"I only want you all to understand this—I no longer have a brother."
This time, shock rippled through the entire room.
Even Drako stiffened.
"I offered him a place at my side," Jace said. "I asked him to join me, so we could change this rotten world together. I wanted us to avenge our father… together."
He exhaled slowly.
"But he rejected me. He chose to side with the Three Great Powers instead."
His eyes hardened.
"So hear me well. From this day forward, my generals—Jericho is our enemy. Treat him as nothing more than another obstacle to be crushed."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Do not underestimate him. Do not hold back. I believe he was the one who killed Pyon. His power is real—I felt it."
His command was absolute.
"They answered sharply.
Drako, meanwhile, released a silent breath of relief.
When Jace had first said he no longer had a brother, Drako had feared the worst—that Jace had killed Jericho himself. Knowing that wasn't the case eased him greatly.
His one true king was alive.
"That concludes Warmark," Jace continued. "Now—our next course of action."
He straightened.
"We will shift our focus to the other continents for the time being. Time is not on our side—especially now that Jericho is active. He will undoubtedly be a key figure in the resistance against us."
His gaze moved across them.
"We must rebuild our forces. And this time, we will require the beings of the other continents."
He turned to the women.
"Nalia. Nass."
They answered immediately.
"We will go all out on the Demonoid and Drakiel continents. They are now our primary targets."
He paused.
"As for Pyon's replacement—it will be decided soon."
His eyes settled on Nass.
"Nalia, I want you to continue your push to get your kingdom, but don't go all out, give them the illusion that you've slowed down— it's part of my new plans."
Nalia bowed deeply. "Understood, Lord Jace."
Jace then turned to Drako.
"Drako. I have a new mission for you."
Drako's smile widened instantly.
"You will return to Righteous and observe Jericho. Every movement. Every plan. No matter how insignificant. Report everything to me immediately. Do not engage him. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Lord Jace," Drako replied—his smile never fading.
Jace mistook that expression for eagerness to fight and sighed.
But to Drako, this mission was a gift beyond measure.
To walk openly at his king's side… to protect him without shadows or deception…
It was everything.
"Nass," Jace continued, "assign trusted subordinates to oversee your current territories. Then begin information gathering on the Demonoid continent at once."
"Yes, Lord Jace."
"Those are your orders," Jace concluded. "Go. Make your preparations."
The three generals rose, bowed, and exited the chamber.
Only Jace, Demiurge, and Kolpa remained.
Jace leaned back.
"Kolpa… about Pyon's replacement. I'll leave that to you."
His eyes locked onto Kolpa's.
"Bring me Prince Jazz."
Kolpa smiled.
"Already on it, Lord Jace."
⸻
Jace sat alone in his private chamber, the dim glow of the lantern casting long shadows across the stone walls. His thoughts were louder than any battlefield—Jericho was alive. His brother, the one he had buried in his heart years ago, now stood on the opposite side of everything he was trying to build. Rage, grief, and something dangerously close to regret churned quietly inside him.
The door opened softly.
Nalia stepped in, closing it behind her. She didn't speak at first. She didn't need to. One look at Jace's rigid posture, at the way his fingers clenched against the arm of the chair, told her everything.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "About your brother."
Jace exhaled, slow and heavy. "I didn't think it would affect me like this."
Nalia moved closer, kneeling beside him. "I understand more than you think," she said quietly. "I'm fighting my own sister for the fate of our nation. Blood doesn't stop pain… it only sharpens it."
Her hand found his. Warm. Steady. Real.
For the first time since his return, Jace let himself lean into that warmth. His shoulders loosened. The tension in his jaw eased. He looked down at her, and in his eyes was something raw—something unguarded.
"You don't have to carry it alone," Nalia whispered.
That was all it took.
Jace pulled her closer, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling. The kiss that followed was slow at first, searching—then deeper, desperate, filled with everything neither of them had said out loud. Nalia climbed into his lap, her fingers threading into his hair as the world beyond the chamber faded away.
The lantern dimmed.
The door remained closed.
And for that night, surrounded by quiet stone and shared scars, neither of them faced their wars alone.
⸻
A week had passed since the battle, and the entourage of Emperor Riko had finally departed. Shortly after, the King of Righteous also took his leave, escorted by Alice and William. Only Jericho and Erica remained behind in Warmark, their stay extended for a very specific reason.
Jericho had already begun training Warmark's military in the use of soul energy, with Erica assisting whenever she was available. Their presence marked the beginning of a new era for the kingdom.
Before the Emperor of Kosuke departed, an agreement had been reached. Once Jericho completed his work in Warmark, a delegation of high-ranking military personnel—those who had at least mastered the basics of soul energy—would be sent to the Kingdom of Kosuke to instruct the samurai there. Jericho himself could not remain indefinitely; a pressing mission awaited him elsewhere. When that mission was completed and he returned, he would personally oversee the final stages of Kosuke's soul-energy training.
Meanwhile, Warmark's recovery efforts progressed remarkably well. Ancient technology was deployed to accelerate restoration—rubble was cleared efficiently, and temporary disaster shelters were constructed to house citizens who had lost their homes. These shelters would serve until full reconstruction was complete. A solemn funeral was also held, honoring every life lost in the attack, the entire kingdom united in mourning.
At the same time, preparations for the academy—previously discussed—were finally underway. Blueprints were being drafted, architectural designs refined, and the groundwork laid so construction could begin without delay.
Vetra had fully recovered from his injuries and immediately began soul training under Jericho's guidance. Even among seasoned soldiers, he stood out as the most impressive by far.
The royal children—Princesses Clover, Diamond, and Spade, along with Prince Ace—trained separately under Erica's supervision, focusing on soul control. Jericho, meanwhile, concentrated on the military personnel who showed compatibility with soul energy, with Erica occasionally stepping in to assist when her schedule allowed.
Two more weeks flew by.
By then, Warmark's military had firmly grasped the fundamentals of soul energy. Several soldiers had already manifested their elements. Among them was Vetra, whose affinity revealed itself as wind—and, unsurprisingly to Jericho, it manifested at the third and highest class: Storm.
Under Erica's guidance, the prince and princesses had also mastered the basics. Princess Diamond discovered her element first—mist, a second-class manifestation of the water element. Soon after, an astonishing revelation followed: the twins were the first humans since Jericho to wield chaos-class elements.
Spade manifested Lightning, while Ace commanded sound waves, or Sonic Waves. Clover, however, insisted on calling Ace's element Thunder, because of its overwhelming power and to complement his twin sister's Lightning.
From that moment on, the twins were known throughout Warmark as "The Thunder and Lightning Twins"—or "The Twin Storm."
Jericho had coined the first title. Erica disagreed and proposed the second instead. The twins loved both names. Clover, stubborn as ever, refused to abandon Jericho's choice—so both titles remained.
Princess Clover herself had yet to discover her element. However, she was the first among them to fully master the flow of soul energy and demonstrated unparalleled control. This surprised no one.
A few days later, Erica, Jericho, and Vetra made their way to Clover's laboratory at her request. She had insisted that what she wanted to show them was urgent.
Upon arrival, Jericho knocked. Rose answered the door and welcomed them inside. They walked to the center of the lab, where Clover stood waiting—goggles perched atop her head, beside a large table draped with a cloth concealing its contents.
She greeted them and gestured for them to stand where she indicated before speaking.
"Welcome, all of you," Clover began. "You're probably wondering why I called you here—and that's a fair question. Just bear with me. I promise I'll explain."
Her tone only heightened their curiosity.
"As you know," she continued, "no matter how strong his spirit is—and despite how much he's improved even with just one arm—Vetra would be a far greater asset in the coming war, and to this kingdom, if he were at one hundred percent."
The others exchanged confused looks.
"I know he chose not to have Jericho restore his arm, and I understand his reasons," Clover said, stepping closer to the table. "But I believe I can make him even stronger."
She placed her hand on the cloth.
"And that brings us to what I'm about to show you."
Rose joined her, gripping the opposite end of the cloth. Together, they pulled it away.
Revealed atop the table was a mechanical arm—sleek, slender, and astonishingly lifelike. Its design was intricate and sophisticated, closer in appearance to a real human arm than a machine. The metal was a smooth gray, polished and elegant.
Jericho, Erica, and Vetra stared in silent awe.
It was one of the most impressive creations they had ever seen.
"C-Clover…" Jericho finally spoke. "Where did this come from?"
She smiled faintly.
"You remember the weapons I showed you and Erica—the ones made from Luxton Star materials? You chose the sword and told me I'd find someone more worthy to wield the soul gun here in Warmark."
Her gaze shifted to Vetra.
"So I thought of him. I created this as thanks—for saving my life. And… as an apology for my stubbornness. If not for him, I might have died."
She sighed softly.
"I dismantled one of the soul guns and used the Luxton components at the most critical points of the arm, allowing it to withstand the pressure of soul energy. The less vital parts were constructed from tungsten."
They stared at her blankly.
Clover groaned in frustration.
"Tungsten is lightweight, incredibly durable, and easy to forge due to its chemical structure," she clarified. "The important part is this: the arm is compatible with any form of soul energy. Vetra won't need an external catalyst."
She tapped the arm.
"This is the catalyst. This arm will be his weapon."
Understanding finally dawned on their faces.
They gathered around the table to examine it more closely. Up close, its craftsmanship was breathtaking.
Jericho found himself momentarily speechless.
"So… what happened to the other soul gun?" he asked.
Clover turned and crossed the room, returning with it in hand.
"It's right here. And I believe Vetra is the right one to wield it. He's the best gun user Warmark has ever had. It's only fitting."
She opened the case for him.
Vetra's eyes lit up, his smile impossible to hide.
"Are you certain… that I'm worthy of all this, my princess?" he asked, almost afraid to believe it.
"Of course," Clover replied without hesitation. "It's the first of its kind—the very first generation of what's to come. Use it with pride."
She handed him both the arm and the soul gun.
Vetra accepted them immediately—he would never insult her by refusing.
"It will be an honor," he said, bowing deeply. "I am eternally grateful."
Jericho smiled at the exchange.
"Well?" Erica said eagerly. "What are you waiting for, Captain? Go test it."
Vetra nodded.
They all headed outside—Erica, Vetra, and Rose in front, with Jericho and Clover walking together at the back.
"Clover," Jericho said gently, "never change. I really like you just the way you are."
Her heart skipped.
"But don't push yourself too hard," he continued. "Take breaks. I'll be leaving for my mission soon, and I want to know you'll be okay before I go. Promise me that as much as you amaze me with your beautiful mind, you'll also take care of yourself."
"That's all I ask."
Clover's face turned beet red. She nodded quickly, too flustered to speak—yet happier than she had been in a long time.
And together, they continued on their way.