DARIA — CAPITAL
DAMON HOUSEHOLD
"Yesterday was exhausting," Cassandra muttered, dropping onto her bed. "I felt like I could die right there on the spot."
"Same here," Hesper replied, sprawled out on the floor with her arms behind her head. "She was just too fast. I kept thinking of strategies, but none of them would work. She'd counter everything before I could even act."
Zira sat quietly on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs slightly as she listened.
"Cassandra " Hesper said after a moment, "it's been over a day and neither your mom nor your dad has returned. Are you sure it's okay for us to sleep over?"
Cassandra waved it off lazily. "Yeah, it's fine. Lady Lisanna didn't complain, so I'm sure it's alright. What about your uncle? What did he say?"
"He knows," Hesper answered. "Didn't have any issues with it either."
Cassandra's room was spacious but warm,clearly lived in. Tall bookshelves lined one wall, filled with neatly arranged books and training manuals.
A wide window let moonlight spill across the polished wooden floor, its curtains tied loosely to the side.
Her bed was large, draped in deep blue sheets embroidered with silver patterns matching the Damon household crest.
A practice sword rested against the wall beside a small desk cluttered with notes, ink bottles, and half-finished sketches.
Despite the elegance, the room still carried the casual mess of a teenager who spent more time training than cleaning.
ARISTO / PHOBOS' ROOM
"Phobos," Aristo asked quietly, staring at the ceiling, "if you were in the ring with Miss Alexandra… what would you do?"
Phobos groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders.
"Hey, don't give me nightmares, Why would I ever want to be in a ring with that beast?"
He yawned.
"Just close your eyes and sleep. If you ever find yourself in that situation, surrender. That's the best strategy."
He paused, half-asleep. "Besides, she was trained by Dad. I don't see you beating her anytime soon."
"Phobos?" Aristo called again.
No response.
"…He fell asleep already," Aristo muttered.
GREAT DARIA LIBRARY
"Lady Maria," Barnabas said gently as he approached, "you've been here for over a day now. What exactly are you searching for?"
Maria stood before a long table covered in old records and case files, her hands trembling slightly as she flipped through another page.
"Are these all the documented cases of people who consumed Diochromes?" she asked.
Barnabas nodded. "Every known one."
Maria's eyes scanned the pages. "They all died within days. Brain damage. Severe cancers. Organ collapse. Neural overload. Surge vessel rupture. Cellular decay. Their bodies simply couldn't withstand that level of Dio."
She clenched the edge of the table. "Not a single survivor. No one lived more than twelve days."
"Where are you going with this?" Barnabas asked carefully.
"What if their bodies died because they couldn't contain the Dio," Maria said, turning to face him, "but the soul survived? If the physical vessel failed… wouldn't it be possible to create another one? Especially for someone powerful enough?"
Barnabas shook his head slowly. "There has never been a case like that. The soul alone cannot generate energy. Dio is housed within the corporeal body. Without it, creation is impossible. It's safe to say… they are dead."
Maria's shoulders sagged.
"I see. Then there's no chance he survived… no chance he's out there looking for me… in a body we wouldn't recognize."
"Maria," Barnabas said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I know it's been hard on you and Damon. But even if hypothetically he survived and created a new body, he would have returned by now. It's been years."
He sighed
"Hirosuke is gone, He was a good child, I held him in my arms once too, I know how much this hurts."
Tears streamed silently down Maria's face as Barnabas pulled her into a gentle embrace.
FULTON
"Niamh," Kaito said calmly, seated behind his desk, "when is the next Enorian gem shipment scheduled to move to Daria?"
"In about a week," she replied. "And yes,it's the last one, according to our agreement with Daria."
Kaito nodded. "Then you'll be coming with me. We'll shift the date to another time."
"Yes, sir," Niamh answered without hesitation.
DARIA — CAPITAL
DAMON HOUSEHOLD
"Zira," Cassandra said sleepily, "you should get some rest. You're heading out with Phobos tomorrow morning, right?"
"Yes," Zira replied.
"You should've taken Aristo instead," Cassandra muttered. "Phobos probably won't wake up on time, Actually,what am I saying? He won't wake up at all."
Zira smiled faintly. "It's fine. I'll drag him if I have to."
"Suit yourself," Cassandra said, turning over. "Good night."
The room fell quiet.
TIKKA : CAPTIAL
PALACE
Charlotte told herself she wouldn't open the book again.
Her hands hovered above the cover, fingers trembling not with fear, but with something far worse: certainty.
The first vision had not been an accident. The book had answered her because it had been waiting.
Slowly, she opened it.
The ink shimmered at once, no longer dormant.
Words shifted beneath her gaze, lines rewriting themselves as if responding to her presence, forming a passage that had not existed before.
Judgment: The War of Twin Crowns.
The instant Charlotte read the title, the room shattered.
She stood within a vast hall unlike any battlefield she had ever imagined.
The chamber was colossal, carved from pale stone veined with gold, its ceiling arching so high it vanished into shadow. Light poured down through circular openings far above, bathing the space in a cold, impartial glow.
One truth settled into her immediately.
This was not a place of war.
It was a place where war had failed.
A long obsidian table divided the hall.
On one side sat the rulers of the Kingdom of Aurelion, human men and women clad in immaculate whites and gilded blues, their crowns subtle yet unmistakable.
Their counselors stood behind them, hands folded, eyes sharp with calculation.
Opposite them were the leaders of Vareth. Humans carrying a black crimson flag with a lion symbol, their presence, ceremonial armor worn not for display but remembrance.
Scars marred the steel, left unpolished by choice.
Their king made no effort to conceal his resentment, his knuckles white where they gripped the arms of his chair.
Between the two sides stood Elara alone.
No throne.
No guards.
No weapon.
Only her.
Cassandra could see through the eyes of Elara.
Silence ruled the chamber until the King of Aurelion finally spoke, his voice measured but strained.
"Arbiter, we have convened not as conquerors, but as survivors"
"This war has consumed generations. We request your judgment."
Vareth's ruler leaned forward at once.
"Judgment," he echoed bitterly. "Or absolution?"
The word struck like an accusation.
Elara did not answer immediately.
Only then did Charlotte realize Elara was not seeing anything yet.
The hall was merely stone and light.
The rulers were only rulers, No colors bled through the air, No truths rose unbidden.
Elara judged only when she chose to.
She lifted her gaze slowly, and when she spoke, her voice carried evenly across the chamber.
"You have not summoned me to end a war," she said.
"You have summoned me because you no longer know who is guilty."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
The King of Vareth rose to his feet.
"They slaughtered our cities beneath banners of peace."
"And you answered," Elara replied calmly, "by burning theirs in return."
The air tightened.
Charlotte felt the heat bloom behind Elara's eyes.
At her will, Veritas Luminis opened.
The hall itself did not change,but the people did.
Truth bled from them like light through fractured glass.
Charlotte saw it all.
Aurelion's council glowed with threads of fear and rationalization,decisions made decades earlier, not from cruelty, but desperation.
Land had dwindled. Borders had shrunk. They had struck first to survive.
Vareth's leaders burned with grief hardened into inheritance.
Loss passed from parent to child, vengeance taught as duty, hatred mistaken for honor.
Neither side was innocent.
Neither side was entirely wrong.
Elara stepped forward. The sound of her foot against stone echoed like a gavel.
"You have told yourselves stories," she said, her gaze moving between the two crowns. "Stories where suffering absolved you. Where the dead of yesterday justified the dead of today."
She turned to Aurelion.
"You feared extinction, and in that fear, you taught your enemy that peace was a lie."
She turned to Vareth.
"You were wronged, and you let that wrong become your future, until war was the only language you remembered."
The truth pressed down upon the hall like gravity, No one spoke, No one could.
Elara raised one hand.
"I will not erase your hatred," she said. "Nor will I crown one of you righteous. That would be another lie."
Both kings stiffened.
"You will cede the contested lands," Elara continued, "not to either kingdom, but to neither"
"They will stand as neutral ground, governed by joint stewardship Shared borders. Shared responsibility."
Gasps rose
Outrage flared and died the instant Elara's eyes met theirs again.
"You will exchange heirs," she added. "Not as prisoners, but as witnesses."
"Your children will grow knowing the faces you taught yourselves to hate."
Silence followed.
Then, softly:
"And the next war you wage will not be against each other, but against the truth of what you were."
The kings looked across the table.
For the first time in nearly a century, not as enemies, but as mirrors.
Slowly, painfully, they stood.
They bowed.
The hall exhaled.
The vision unraveled gently this time, like a curtain lowering.
Charlotte gasped as she returned to her room, the book warm beneath her hands. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with awe.
This was not judgment through destruction.
This was judgment through consequence.
She understood now.
An Arbiter did not bring peace by force.
She made it unavoidable.