Chapter 37: When the Past Refuses to Die
Region 24 – Coiller City
Alloysius Residence,
Nazare Blade Empire
The hall was dimly lit, scented with burning essence that smelled faintly of clove and dried ashwood. The walls, lined with ancient tapestries of forgotten wars, whispered of the bloodline's once-great legacy.
At the center of this throne room—part sanctum, part fortress—sat a young man robed in emerald silk, his face calm but eyes troubled, ringed with sleepless circles, it was the 7th prince.
Prince Alloysius.
Empire, once ambitious, once brash, now sat haunted by shadows of his own making.
A full moon watched through a stained-glass window as though silently judging the prince's descent.
He leaned back on a throne-like seat carved from blackened oak. The ornaments that curled around his neck shimmered faintly with embedded spirit runes. Behind the polished poise, however, was unrest—a prince whose plan to assassinate his half-sister had not only failed, but returned to haunt him in silence.
Out of the six Ocean Opening Realm fighters he had sent to eliminate Jerusha, only two returned. One of them, Kush, had since broken through to the Ocean Flooding Realm thanks to Alloysius' generous provisions. The other remained silent, spending his time cultivating in the mountain wing of the estate.
Alloysius himself now stood at the 9th level of the Ocean Opening Realm. Each step of progress carved from ruthless ambition and the hoarded spoils of years spent manipulating his dwindling court allies.
Jerusha was now alive, allied with the most unpredictable sibling of them all—Jaden, the strategist whose silence was more terrifying than his wrath.
And that silence…
That deafening calm had become Alloysius' nightly torment.
He had expected reprisal—a silent blade in the night, assassins bearing Jaden's black crest, or a public declaration that would have made him a pariah—but none came. Just the quietness. And that was far worse.
He had tripled his guards. He had not left Coiller City in over seven weeks. He had even stopped sleeping in the same room for more than two days in a row. But still—nothing.
No retaliation came.
Not from Jerusha.
Not from her brother, Jaden.
It was the silence that unsettled him. A dangerous, disarming silence.
Had Jerusha died? Or was she simply biding her time?
His scouts reported she was last seen in Region 6… with her brother. That shattered the first hope.
But Jaden had said nothing. No public accusation. No move against him. No coded threats. It was as if the assassination attempt never happened.
Alloysius hated this. He hated being left in the dark.
"Perhaps she doesn't know I sent the men… Or perhaps she doesn't care?" he muttered under his breath. "Or… Jaden is waiting."
That thought chilled him more than any spirit beast.
The doors to the hall opened with a controlled hush. In walked a powerfully built man, bald, with a scar running across one cheek. He wore a crescent-moon headband and carried the seasoned air of a field veteran.
Kush bowed low. "My lord, Prince Alloysius."
Alloysius lifted a single finger, the sign to rise.
"Speak. What have you learned of the Black Dragon?"
Kush raised his head. "He's alive."
The prince tensed.
"And Ralia Amia?" he asked carefully, masking his desperation.
"I found no trace of her. She's either dead… or hiding. I lean toward the former."
The words did not reassure him.
The truth was—Alloysius feared what Ralia might become if she had survived. Ralia Amia had been one of his best instruments. Sending her after the Black Dragon—a figure of unknown origin and power—had been risky. But it had seemed necessary.
Now, the unknown loomed larger.
Kush continued, "Region 32 has undergone some sort of internal reform. It's difficult to enter. Their border watch is strict—names and origins are now registered. A false move and you're flagged. I couldn't gather anything directly. Only whispers from returning merchants."
"And what did those whispers say?"
"They speak of a masked warrior. Cloaked in black. Moves like a shadow and roars like a beast. He commands respect... and fear. The locals call him the Black Dragon. No one knows where he came from. But they say he walks untouched by the beasts of the northern cliffs, and has faced one of the Tusked Lords alone."
Alloysius sat slowly, a lump growing in his throat.
A nobody with that much power? And worse—one he had tried and failed to kill.
His fingers curled until his knuckles whitened. "So… I've created an enemy."
The room fell silent.
A sudden chill passed through the air, unnoticed by Kush.
Alloysius stood again, pacing.
"Any word from our agents in Region 6?" he asked, almost too casually.
Kush shook his head. "None. We've lost all eyes there. Either Jerusha discovered them… or Jaden made a move."
Alloysius turned sharply, eyes flashing. "Jaden again. Always watching, always waiting. That man is a viper. Every time you think he's idle, he's already behind you."
He sat down once again, this time not to rule, but to think. Deep within his robes, he withdrew a crimson jade slip and pressed it to his forehead.
A moment later, a projection flickered into life—a map of the Empire. Marked regions. Points of interest. His fingers hovered over Region 6, where Jerusha was last spotted. Then Region 32, now a black zone of mystery. And finally, his own domain, Region 24—a cage of his own fear.
Three black pins. Three burning knots of uncertainty.
But as he moved to deactivate one…
A fourth pin appeared.
Region 29: Quorin Depths.
It pulsed slowly. A deep, bloody red.
Alloysius narrowed his eyes. "What is this?"
Kush approached, puzzled. "That... wasn't on the map before."
He peered closer. "A scout embedded there sent a coded update."
"Who did he find?"
Kush hesitated.
"The Scarlet Raven."
The prince froze.
The Scarlet Raven was a nightmare—a ghost-story told to assassins.
A killer said to have ended three lords in three different regions… in one night.
Alloysius's voice dropped to a whisper. "Why now? Why resurface now?"
Kush said nothing. Only shrugged.
"Maybe the past is waking up."
Alloysius laughed. It was hollow. Bitter. Broken. "No. The past isn't waking up, Kush... It never slept. We just closed our eyes."
He sank into his seat, not as a ruler—but as a man surrounded by ghosts he'd summoned himself.
And outside, unseen by either of them, a falcon circled above the Alloysius estate. Its feathers sleek. Its eyes crimson. In its talons, a scroll, sealed with a familiar crescent moon.
Alloysius kept his gaze locked on the new message.
Subject: Scarlet Raven
Status: Awakened.
His lips moved, barely audible.
"The Scarlet Raven… He should be dead."
Some claimed the Imperial Guard ended him. Others whispered he'd been sealed in the tomb of Emperor Zalvaar.
And yet… here he was.
Alloysius stood slowly, emerald silk rustling over the polished floor.
He whispered, "If ghosts are returning... I must become more terrifying than death itself."
---
Far across the empire, where the mists of Quorin Depths swallowed even sunlight, a lone figure stood atop a jagged obsidian cliff.
A crimson-feathered blade rested against his shoulder.
And with eyes like molten glass, he smiled.
"Time to collect old debts."