Chapter 485: Master
"Do you think," Lucavion continued, voice quiet, smooth, "this world is the only place where life exists?"
Silence.
A beat.
Then another.
The Duke did not answer. Not immediately.
His expression did not change.
And yet—
Lucavion could see it.
That flicker of thought. Of calculation.
That doubt.
The quiet tension of a man who had spent his life grounded in reality, in the certainties of power, of control—only to be confronted with something that threatened to unravel it.
Something older.
Something beyond this world.
Lucavion's smile widened just slightly.
'Now….I have gathered your interest….'
The Duke exhaled slowly, his golden gaze steady.
"Of course not," he said, his voice firm, certain. "There are many legends—angels who have risen to the heavens, demons who come from the demon realm, spirits from the spirit realm. Even if we do not see them, we know they exist. These are the truths of our world."
Lucavion nodded, as if expecting that response.
"Yes," he agreed easily. "We may not see them, but we know them. Stories passed down. Scriptures written by those who have glimpsed beyond the veil. A world shaped by what we believe to be its highest forces."
A pause.
Then—
"That, however…" Lucavion lifted his gaze slightly, his smirk fading into something quieter. Something thoughtful.
"…is not what I am talking about."
Thaddeus narrowed his eyes.
Lucavion tilted his head back, staring toward the ceiling, as if looking at something far, far beyond it.
"Do you think," he asked, his voice almost idle, "there are existences beyond the common knowledge? Beyond the heavens and gods that everyone speaks of?"
Silence.
The Duke did not answer right away.
And that—
That was important.
Because for the first time in this conversation, he thought about it.
The mere suggestion of such a thing was absurd. Gods were the pinnacle, the untouchable. The heavens and hells, the divine and the cursed—these were the boundaries of existence.
Weren't they?
But…
Thaddeus frowned, his thoughts shifting, spiraling down a path he had never truly considered before.
There were no records of such things.
No ancient texts detailing realms beyond the divine. No scholars claiming to have glimpsed something outside of creation itself.
And yet.
"There are no records of such things," he said finally, his voice quieter now. Measured.
Lucavion chuckled softly.
"There were no records of many things in the past." He lifted a single hand, gesturing vaguely. "And yet, discoveries were made. Knowledge was rewritten."
His dark eyes gleamed as he lowered his gaze back to the Duke.
He let the moment stretch, savoring the silence that followed.
Then, softly—
"Do you believe they can exist?"
His words lingered in the air, delicate yet pressing.
Thaddeus did not respond immediately.
Instead, he thought.
It was not a question he had ever considered—not truly. His entire life had been built upon what was known, what was recorded. The gods. The heavens. The realms of spirits and demons. These were absolute truths, the pillars upon which the world stood.
But if those pillars were not the peak? If something lay beyond them?
He exhaled slowly.
Yet—
Something was off.
His golden eyes narrowed at Lucavion, scrutinizing him once more.
Because the way this boy was speaking—
It was not simple speculation.
It was not curiosity.
It was certainty.
As if he knew.
As if this was not just some philosophical musing, but something real.
Something connected.
His jaw tightened.
"Are you saying," Thaddeus asked, his voice now dangerously low, "that the Kraken—or Aeliana's illness—was due to something beyond this world?"
The moment the words left his lips, Lucavion smiled.
A quiet, knowing smile.
Indeed.
He tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with a sharp, unreadable glint.
"It was something beyond the confines of this world." His voice was calm, but there was weight to it—weight that made the air in the room feel heavier, denser.
Then—
His gaze locked onto Thaddeus, and for the first time in the conversation, his amusement dimmed.
"That was why," he continued, his voice quieter now, steadier, "both your wife and your daughter could never be cured."
The chamber fell into utter silence.
And Thaddeus—
For the first time in years—
Felt a chill crawl down his spine.
Thaddeus' fingers curled into fists at his sides.
His golden eyes, once merely sharp, now burned with something deeper.
Suspicion.
How?
How could this boy—this nobody—make such claims?
"How can you be so certain?" His voice was low, controlled, but the weight behind it was undeniable. "How can you speak of this as if it is fact?"
He took a slow step forward, his gaze unrelenting.
"You claim something beyond this world is responsible." Another step. "You claim that the Kraken—Aeliana's illness—was never something of this world to begin with."
His voice darkened, pressing against the walls of the chamber.
"Then tell me—what proof do you have? What evidence?"
He was not a man who entertained baseless claims. Words alone meant nothing.
For all Lucavion's cleverness, for all his confidence, what did he have?
Why should he be listened to?
Silence.
Then—
Lucavion laughed.
A quiet chuckle at first, but it deepened, rich with amusement.
As if this—this very moment—was something he had anticipated.
Then, slowly, he nodded his head.
"Indeed," he murmured, his smirk never faltering. "From your perspective, it is only natural to doubt me."
His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—something undeniably sure of itself.
"After all," he mused, tilting his head slightly, "you don't know much about me."
Thaddeus did not react. He merely watched, waiting, measuring.
And then—
Lucavion shifted.
His posture straightened, his entire presence settling into something different.
Not arrogant. Not playful.
Certain.
And when he spoke again, his voice was steady.
"Then, Duke," he said, locking eyes with Thaddeus, "let me introduce myself."
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Lucavion exhaled softly, his smirk lingering as he observed the Duke's expression shift—ever so slightly.
"By this point," he began, voice smooth, steady, "you must have understood that the name 'Luca' was just a forged identity."
Thaddeus said nothing at first.
Then, slowly—he nodded.
Lucavion's smirk widened.
"And if you had maybe one more week," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you would have found out a part of my real identity."
His dark eyes locked onto Thaddeus'. Unwavering.
Then—
"Scar on the right eye."
A pause.
"Use of a long estoc."
Another step forward.
"One of the rising rogue talents in the empire."
Silence hung between them, heavy and sharp.
And then—
Thaddeus inhaled slowly, his golden gaze narrowing as understanding clicked into place.
"Lucavion."
The name left his lips as a statement, not a question.
And in that moment—
A memory surfaced.
A rumor.
A whisper that had begun to circulate throughout the empire, gaining momentum like a storm.
A young man.
A swordsman who had done incredible things—who had shaken the very foundation of the human world.
And alongside that name—
A title.
"The Sword Demon."
The Duke's voice was barely above a murmur, but it carried through the chamber like a blade being unsheathed.
Lucavion grinned.
"Yep," he said, voice light, as if the weight of such a title meant nothing to him.
"That's one of the names I'm going with."
Chapter 486: Master (2)
"The Sword Demon."
The Duke knew about that name. After all, it had caused quite an uproar.
"Yep. That's one of the names I'm going with."
Lucavion replied. But he still was not finished.
"But that's still not enough for you, is it?"
His voice was calm, almost amused.
"After all, even though the name Sword Demon may hold weight, I'm still just a rogue swordsman. A mere anomaly. Someone who has shaken the empire, yes… but only a little."
He raised a hand.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And then—
A black light began to ooze from his fingertips.
Dark, fluid, yet strangely weightless.
The air around them shifted.
The chamber dimmed.
Not from the absence of light, but from the sheer presence of something else.
The black energy swirled, rising like smoke, but within its depths—
Stars.
Tiny, glimmering fragments of an endless sky, scattered within the darkness, swirling in an unseen current.
And in that moment—
Thaddeus felt it.
That same, unnerving familiarity.
The same pressure he had sensed before—when Lucavion had fought Reinhardt.
Lucavion watched him, his smirk deepening.
"This energy must feel familiar to you, mustn't it?"
The Duke didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Lucavion could see it. The flicker of recognition. The quiet unease.
"After all," he continued, his voice dipping lower, his dark eyes gleaming, "you've felt something like this before."
The swirling energy pulsed, expanding just slightly, the tiny stars flickering like embers within the dark.
"In that battle—"
The words settled between them, heavier than the air itself.
Thaddeus' breath stilled.
Lucavion's gaze sharpened, locking onto him, voice quiet—
"Against my master."
The chamber froze.
And then—
"When you lost to him."
The stars within the black energy flickered.
And the Duke—
For the first time in decades—
Felt something dangerously close to a shiver crawl down his spine.
******
Blood.
That was the first thing Thaddeus remembered.
The scent of it, thick and metallic, clinging to the air like a curse. The way it soaked into the earth, darkening the once-untouched fields of Ravencairn Plains.
It was the first thing any man who had been to war would come to know.
And Thaddeus had known it well.
The war against the Lorian Empire had reached its peak.
Even though the Thaddeus Duchy was responsible for the naval forces of the Arcanis Empire, the tides of battle had shifted so drastically that not even the sea could hold back the inevitable.
The Lorian forces had pushed deep—too deep.
They had nearly reached his lands.
So the battle was set.
Ravencairn Plains.
A decisive clash to hold the borders.
Thaddeus had stood at the front lines with six of the duchy's strongest generals.
Six men who had each carved their names into history.
Six legends of the battlefield.
And yet—
That day…
That fight…
Five of them died.
Not at the hands of an army.
Not in the chaos of war.
No.
They were cut down—one by one—by a single man.
A man who moved like a shadow.
Who sliced through warriors as if they were nothing more than paper before a blade.
He had been young then.
Near Thaddeus' own age at the time.
But his presence—his skill—his power—
It had been monstrous.
And Thaddeus remembered it clearly.
The flickering, deadly glow that wrapped around his blade.
That deep, shifting purple starlight.
It was not like anything Thaddeus had ever encountered before.
It was not divine.
It was not demonic.
It was something else entirely.
And by the time he had understood it—
By the time he had realized what he was truly facing—
Retreat.
The word still burned.
Still lingered, like an old wound that never truly healed.
That day, on Ravencairn Plains, Thaddeus' duchy had been forced to retreat.
Not because they lacked numbers. Not because the terrain had failed them.
But because of a single man.
A lone swordsman who had done the impossible.
Who had carved through his forces with an efficiency that defied logic.
And worse—
Who had slain five of the six generals that had been entrusted to him by the Imperial Army.
By the Royal Family itself.
It had been one of the greatest losses the Arcanis Empire had suffered in that war.
It had sent shockwaves through the capital, shifting the balance of power.
The noble factions—once stable—had fractured. The Empire, already struggling against the Lorian advance, had weakened further.
And he—
Thaddeus, the heir to the Duchy at the time—
Had been forced to flee.
Not out of cowardice.
Not because he had wanted to.
But because he had no choice.
His father, the Duke before him, had given the order.
A direct command.
A command Thaddeus hated.
Because he had wanted to stay.
Wanted to fight.
To prove that the Duchy of Thaddeus was not so easily crushed.
And yet, even back then—
Even in his rage, his pride—
He had known.
That man.
The one who had changed the tides of battle, who had broken their forces with nothing but his blade and that eerie, flickering starlight—
Thaddeus had known.
If he had stayed.
If he had fought.
He would have lost.
And not just lost—
He would have died.
He still remembered that scene.
The battlefield, once filled with the thunder of war, had fallen silent.
Because there, standing amidst the corpses, drenched in the blood of his fallen men—
Was him.
His blade dripping.
His gaze unshaken.
A man whose very presence had rewritten the course of history that day.
A man Thaddeus could never forget.
A disgrace.
A moment in his life he had never been able to erase.
And now—
Decades later—
That same starlight flickered in the palm of the boy standing before him.
Lucavion.
His golden eyes darkened.
His voice, when it came, was quiet.
Dangerous.
"…Your master."
His fingers curled into a fist.
"…Was him, wasn't it?"
For the first time since their conversation began—
Lucavion smiled.
Not a smirk.
Not a playful, taunting curve of his lips.
A genuine smile.
And then—
He uttered the name.
The name that had haunted the Duke's dreams.
The name that had never left him, even after all these years.
A name that had once carved its mark into the history of war itself.
"Indeed."
Lucavion's voice was smooth. Unshaken.
Then, with deliberate slowness, his dark eyes locked onto Thaddeus' golden ones.
And he spoke the words that made the air itself seem heavier.
"Starscourge Gerald."
A shudder crawled down Thaddeus' spine.
A name he had not heard in decades.
A name that had rewritten his life.
A name that had been synonymous with defeat.
Lucavion watched him, that same knowing, quiet amusement flickering in his gaze.
"What?"
But now it was Aeliana's time to react.
Chapter 487: Master (3)
Aeliana felt… strange.
The room, the voices, the weight of her father's glare—none of it fully registered. It was as if her mind had split into two: one half replaying Madeleina's words over and over, the other fixating on Lucavion's unsettling ease as he had spoken.
Madeleina's voice still echoed in her skull. "She took and took and took—until there was nothing left of you!"
Aeliana's jaw clenched.
It wasn't true.
No—it wasn't that simple.
What else could she have done? What would Madeleina have done, if she were the one trapped in that sickbed? If she were the one who had spent years suffocating under everyone's expectations, unable to change anything, unable to be anything other than what they saw?
It was easy to speak from the outside.
Easy to judge.
Aeliana exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking off the lingering weight of those thoughts. Enough.
She wasn't going to let Madeleina of all people rattle her.
And yet—
Her eyes flickered sideways.
Lucavion.
She hadn't reacted at the moment—too caught up in her own storm—but now, in the aftermath, she found herself replaying his words.
The way he had spoken to Madeleina.
The way he had peeled her apart like he had seen her before.
Not just as a manipulator. Not just as a liar.
But as someone he recognized.
'You, who have never felt the loss of someone you wanted to save…'
Aeliana's fingers twitched.
That kind of certainty didn't come from mere observation. That was spoken from experience.
And that was what unsettled her.
Because there were already too many unknowns about Lucavion—too many things she didn't understand.
Who he was.
Aeliana had read many books in her years of confinement. Histories, battle records, political strategies—anything to make the world beyond her room feel less like a dream and more like something tangible.
And in those pages, there were countless ominous names.
The Bloodhound of Raviel. The Butcher of Hallow's End. The Phantom Reaper.
So when she first heard Sword Demon, her initial reaction was mild.
A title like that could belong to anyone—a half-decent swordsman who had caused some trouble but would eventually be forgotten. If she hadn't heard of it before, then it was either recent or insignificant.
But as she listened—
As she watched—
She realized something was wrong.
Her father's expression.
She had seen him angry before. Seen him serious, seen him melancholic.
But never like this.
Never stressed.
Or maybe—
Fearful.
The way his jaw had locked. The way his grip had subtly tightened. The way his eyes, sharp and unwavering, seemed to darken with something close to dread.
And then—
Then she heard it.
"Starscourge Gerald."
Her breath caught.
That was a name that needed no introduction.
A name etched into history.
A name so infamous, so legendary, that even she—trapped within the walls of her sickness—had read about him.
The lone swordsman who had carved through armies.
The man who had broken battle formations that were thought to be impenetrable.
The warrior who had once stood against an empire—and forced it to retreat.
Aeliana's gaze flickered to Lucavion.
The casual way he had spoken. The ease with which he let the words fall from his lips.
Like it was nothing.
Like it was natural.
Her heartbeat quickened.
If Lucavion's master was him—
Then who the hell was Lucavion?
"What?"
The word slipped past Aeliana's lips before she could stop it.
It wasn't just surprise—it was realization.
Slowly, piece by piece, things started falling into place.
Lucavion's strength. His unnatural precision. The way he fought like someone who had seen countless battles, despite his age.
His energy.
That strange black light—fluid, shifting, laced with glimmering stars.
No one else had ever displayed anything like it. No one else had ever seen anything like it.
And now—
Now, she knew why.
Because there was only one man in history known for wielding something similar.
Starscourge Gerald.
A man who defied conventions. A warrior who had once stood alone against an empire.
His power was an anomaly, something that scholars, mages, and historians alike had failed to understand.
And Lucavion—
His power was the same.
The realization sent a shiver down her spine.
She had felt it before, hadn't she? That same eerie sensation when she first saw him fight. That same gut feeling that something about him was different, something beyond just skill or talent.
And now, she understood why.
Lucavion—this man sitting so casually before them, smirking as if this were all a game—
Had been trained by the one person who had once rewritten the rules of war itself.
Lucavion leaned back in his seat, his smirk deepening. The very picture of ease, as if the weight of his words wasn't still settling like a storm in the room.
"What? Are you surprised, Little Ember?"
Aeliana felt her mouth twitch. This guy—
Even now, even after throwing that revelation into the air, he was still acting like this? Like he had just told her the weather, rather than upending everything she thought she knew?
She refused to let him get away with it so easily.
"That's a pretty big statement," she said, tilting her chin slightly. "There have been countless people who claimed they were acquaintances of Starscourge Gerald. None of them were telling the truth."
She let the words hang, watching him carefully.
'Let's wipe that expression off your face, you bastard.'
Lucavion hummed, completely unfazed. If anything, the amusement in his dark eyes only grew.
"Hmm? That makes sense. There are countless leeches that would do that."
He didn't even try to argue. Didn't try to defend himself. Just acknowledged the statement like it was a passing comment.
That irritated her more than it should have.
"Then—" she started, but—
"I've told you before, but let me repeat myself."
Lucavion cut her off smoothly, his voice dipping lower, quieter.
"I don't lie."
Aeliana stiffened slightly.
There was something in his tone.
Something unwavering.
Something that made the air feel heavier.
His smirk hadn't faded, but it was different now—less playful, more certain.
Like a man who had no need to convince anyone.
Because he already knew the truth.
And as much as Aeliana wanted to push back—
She had a feeling she wouldn't win this time.
"Then… if that is true…" Aeliana narrowed her eyes, her voice measured, careful. "What exactly are you here for?"
She could feel her father's gaze flicker between them, silent but watching. Calculating.
"You are the disciple of one of the strongest in the entire world. So why are you here?" Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her dress. *"And—" she tilted her head, "wasn't Starscourge Gerald affiliated with the Loria Empire?"
Lucavion said nothing, merely listening. His expression unreadable now.
"Why did you think it was a good idea to come here, to the enemy nation, and reveal this fact?" Her amber eyes glinted. "Don't you think we will take you as a prisoner to blackmail Starscourge Gerald?"
Silence.
For the first time since their conversation began, Lucavion didn't immediately smirk, didn't throw back a teasing remark.
He simply stayed still.
The playfulness in his dark eyes dimmed, just slightly.
Then—
"Well… There is no need to do that."
His voice was quieter now, devoid of amusement.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Aeliana caught the faintest shift in his expression.
It wasn't sadness.
But it was something close.
"Since Master is no longer here."
The words settled into the chamber like a weight.
Heavy. Absolute.
Aeliana's breath caught.
Her father, who had been so still, so tense, exhaled sharply through his nose. His fingers, still curled against his chair, tightened further.
And Lucavion—
Lucavion simply sat there, his usual grin absent.
Not mourning. Not grieving.
Just stating a fact.
Starscourge Gerald—the man who had once rewritten the course of war.
Was gone.
Chapter 488: Master (4)
Gone.
The word echoed through the chamber.
It should have been a relief.
Thaddeus should have felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
Starscourge Gerald—one of the most dangerous men to ever walk this world, the lone swordsman who had carved his way through an empire—was dead.
A warrior affiliated with the enemy nation. A man who had once forced the Thaddeus Duchy into retreat. A legend who had humiliated him in battle and shattered five of his greatest generals.
A threat, finally removed from the world.
But—
He didn't feel relieved.
He didn't feel satisfied.
He felt—
Strange.
Lucavion's words shouldn't have affected him like this.
And yet—
Something settled deep in his chest. A hollow weight. A realization that, despite everything, left him feeling—
Empty.
Thaddeus exhaled slowly, his fingers curling tighter against his chair.
It made sense, didn't it?
Starscourge Gerald had disappeared from the world years ago. There had been rumors—whispers that he had entered seclusion, that he had abandoned the battlefield.
But if he had died…
Then it explained everything.
And he should have been comfortable with that fact.
Should have welcomed it.
But—
He didn't.
Because if Gerald had truly left this world—
Then that meant—
They would never clash again.
He would never reclaim the honor that had been stolen from him on Ravencairn Plains.
Never rewrite the outcome of that battle.
Never face the one opponent who had ever made him retreat.
His golden eyes darkened.
Thaddeus didn't want to believe it.
Not yet.
Not like this.
There had been too many revelations in the past hour—too many things to process, too many truths that shattered the very foundation of what he had known.
And now, this?
That Starscourge Gerald—one of the greatest swordsmen to ever live, the man who had once carved through his forces as if they were nothing, the man he had sworn to face again—was gone?
It felt strange.
Unreal.
No matter how much it made sense, no matter how logical the timeline was, no matter how perfectly it explained his absence from the world—
Something in him rejected it.
"This news…" His voice was quieter now, measured. "This is one of the biggest revelations in the history of the empire." His golden eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto Lucavion.
"And yet, I am supposed to just believe it?"
Lucavion exhaled through his nose, his smirk returning, but there was a laziness to it.
"That's up to you." He shrugged. "I couldn't care less whether you believe me or not."
Thaddeus stiffened at the sheer ease with which he spoke.
But before he could respond—
Lucavion lifted his hand.
And once more—
The black light unfurled from his palm.
Dark, fluid, and endless.
Like space itself had bled into the room.
And within it—
Tiny stars flickered, swirling in an unseen current.
Lucavion let the moment stretch, letting the energy breathe before speaking again.
"But," he mused, tilting his head slightly, "this energy is the living proof, is it not?"
Thaddeus' breath slowed as he watched the blackened starlight coil around Lucavion's fingers.
And then—
A realization settled in his mind.
"…Just as I've seen Starscourge Gerald's powers before," he murmured, his voice low, thoughtful, "his starlight was purple."
Lucavion nodded once.
"Indeed."
Silence filled the room once more, but it was different now.
He let the light twist in his grasp, let Thaddeus see it, feel it.
And then—
His dark eyes gleamed, his smirk curving just slightly.
"And that's not something I can control."
Thaddeus frowned, his expression unreadable.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, voice quieter, more certain.
"After all, I'm not Master, am I?"
A pause.
"I am a different person."
The black light pulsed once—
And then faded.
Thaddeus had no words for that.
Because despite every instinct telling him to reject it—
Despite the part of him that wanted to deny it—
He knew.
This kid was not lying.
Lucavion exhaled, stretching his fingers as the blackened starlight faded from his palm. His smirk remained, but there was something different in his eyes now—something quieter, more deliberate.
"Now, do you understand?" he said, his tone still casual, but laced with an unmistakable weight. "Why I know so much about that Kraken? About Aeliana's illness?"
Thaddeus remained silent, his golden eyes sharp, unreadable.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, gaze flickering toward Aeliana.
"It's because of my master."
Aeliana stiffened slightly.
"Because both he and I… share something similar to that creature."
The words sank into the air like stones. Heavy. Unshakable.
"Hadn't you felt it before, Little Ember?" Lucavion's dark eyes locked onto hers, piercing. "The way my energy felt familiar to you? The way it reminded you of that Kraken?"
Aeliana's breath hitched.
Because—
She had.
The first time she had seen him use his power, that strange, unnatural black light with its shifting stars—she had felt something. An instinctual pull. A recognition she couldn't explain.
And now—
Now, she understood why.
"That feeling was because of the other 'thing' inside you." Lucavion's voice softened, but the weight of his words did not. "It resonated with you."
Aeliana's mind reeled.
The past—every strange, unexplainable sensation, every moment where she had felt something beyond herself—it all made sense.
When the Kraken had swallowed her, when she had been dragged into the depths, there had been a moment.
A moment where she had felt something reach out to her.
Not in hostility.
But in recognition.
Her fingers curled against her dress.
Because as much as all of this sounded impossible—
No matter how absurd, how unthinkable—
She knew.
He wasn't lying.
Because she had seen him lie before.
Or rather—she had seen how bad he was at lying.
Lucavion was a master at hiding things, at twisting words, at using that damned smirk and effortless charm to dance around the truth.
Aeliana raised her head and met his gaze.
Lucavion's dark eyes, ever filled with mischief and confidence, held none of the usual deception this time. No exaggeration, no flourish, no half-truths wrapped in clever words.
Just certainty.
And that was the final proof she needed.
She almost smiled.
Indeed, you bastard. You just can't lie.
The realization was almost amusing, almost enough to make her let her guard down—but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, she schooled her expression, tilting her head ever so slightly as if still weighing his words.
"Hmm," she murmured, voice measured. "So you claim it resonated with me. That the 'other thing' inside me, as you call it, is connected to all of this."
She let the words stretch, watching for any reaction.
Lucavion merely leaned back slightly, waiting.
She let the words stretch, watching for any reaction.
Lucavion merely leaned back slightly, waiting.
"And if that's the case," she continued, crossing her arms, "then what exactly does that mean? That I have something inside me that is… what? Like that Kraken? Like you?"
She wasn't going to let him lead the conversation so easily.
If he had all these answers, then he could work for it.
Chapter 489: Master (5)
Thaddeus exhaled slowly.
His thoughts, once scattered by the sheer weight of all these revelations, began to settle into something more focused. More dangerous.
Because—
If it was Starscourge Gerald they were talking about…
If it was that man…
Then yes.
Yes, it was possible.
Starscourge Gerald had done things that defied logic, that went beyond human capability. His ability to carve through formations, to shift the tides of battle alone, had always felt… unnatural.
And if his power was something that did not belong to this world—
Then it explained everything.
Thaddeus' golden eyes darkened.
"The powers you use," he said, voice slow, deliberate, "are you saying that they are similar to those creatures?"
Lucavion nodded.
For once, the smirk faded, replaced with something more serious.
His dark eyes gleamed, the weight of his words settling into the air like a quiet storm.
"The reason I know so much about Aeliana's illness," he said, voice steady, "the reason I recognized what was happening to her the moment I met her—"
He lifted a hand once more.
"Is because of both my master….And…"
Then he let blackened starlight shine to life.
"—is because of this."
The swirling energy pulsed, shifting, almost alive.
"This energy does not belong to this world."
Silence.
Lucavion let the words settle, let them take root.
And then—
"Just like my master," he said, lowering his hand, his gaze locked onto Thaddeus, "I, too, am someone who cannot be measured by the rules of this world."
Aeliana narrowed her eyes, her mind racing to piece everything together.
"Even if you have a similar energy," she said, voice measured, "the amount of detail you knew, the way you acted, how you recognized everything about my condition the moment we met…" Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. "It doesn't make sense. Even if your master told you, I doubt even Starscourge Gerald would have known this much."
Lucavion chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. "Heh… As expected, you are sharp."
Aeliana's expression remained unreadable, but she waited.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, nodding to himself. "Then, you want to know how?"
She didn't answer. She didn't have to.
He smirked. "How I knew that much? Like how there was something inside you, for instance?"
Aeliana stiffened. "Something inside me? What do you mean by that?"
Lucavion let out a quiet breath before answering.
"The reason the Kraken was able to grow as strong as it did was because it was absorbing energy from your mother and from you."
Aeliana's breath hitched.
"What?"
"Your so-called 'illness'…" Lucavion continued, his tone unnervingly calm, "it wasn't a normal condition. It wasn't some fragile constitution or a body too weak to sustain itself." His gaze sharpened. "A part of the Kraken had somehow attached itself to you and your mother."
Aeliana felt something cold settle in her chest.
No. That—
That couldn't be right.
But even as she wanted to deny it, the puzzle pieces were already fitting together.
The exhaustion. The way her body had always felt like something was being drained from it. The way no doctor, no healer, no medicine could ever explain what was happening to her.
Lucavion watched her carefully.
"You…" His voice lowered slightly, more thoughtful now. "There must have been something in the past. Something that caused you to encounter that thing when it was still growing."
Aeliana's mind searched—desperate to find the moment he spoke of.
But—
"I don't remember…"
Lucavion exhaled through his nose, unconcerned. "Well… doesn't matter." His gaze flickered slightly. "That's just how they work."
Aeliana felt something unsettling coil in her gut.
"They?"
Lucavion's smirk returned.
"Yup… They."
Lucavion's voice was quiet, but the weight in the air was undeniable.
Aeliana felt her stomach twist.
"What do you mean they?" she asked carefully.
Lucavion exhaled slowly, his dark eyes locking onto hers.
"They were the ones that came with that stone."
He turned his gaze to the Duke, watching him carefully.
"When you came to save us, you saw it too, didn't you? That rock, or stone… It looked really unnatural to you, didn't it?"
Thaddeus was silent for a moment. Then, with measured precision, he nodded.
Aeliana's fingers twitched at her sides.
"That's because that thing came from the sky," Lucavion stated.
And just like that—
Everything clicked.
Aeliana inhaled sharply, her eyes widening.
Ah.
The Duke's sharp gaze flickered toward her immediately. "What is it?"
Aeliana hesitated for only a second before speaking. "Ten years ago… I was training right beside the ocean."
Thaddeus' expression darkened. "And?"
"Mother was also there," Aeliana continued. Her voice felt distant, her own memories unfurling like an old tapestry she hadn't looked at in years. "At that time, we felt something falling from the sky. We didn't see it immediately, but we felt it."
She swallowed, her mind racing as the long-buried memory surfaced.
"It looked really beautiful back then," she murmured. "I remember urging Mother to go with me. And she…" Her voice wavered slightly. "She said we could check it out."
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
Thaddeus' voice, low and controlled. "Why did I not know about this?"
Aeliana blinked.
The answer came almost instinctively.
"Back then…" She exhaled, forcing a small smile. "I didn't want to tell you."
Thaddeus' expression hardened.
"You always pestered me about training," she admitted, meeting his gaze evenly. "And I knew you wouldn't let me go if I told you."
Aeliana took a slow breath, her mind pulling at the threads of the past.
"At that time, the sea was really strong," she said. "The currents were rougher than usual, and… the monsters suddenly went berserk."
Thaddeus frowned, his sharp gaze focused entirely on her. "Berserk?"
She nodded. "They became more aggressive, as if something had disturbed them. We didn't stay out long because of it. Mother and I returned not much after heading out."
She paused.
Something was nagging at her.
Like a memory just on the edge of her consciousness, buried beneath years of time and sickness.
Lucavion said nothing, merely watching.
Then—
She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening.
"I—"
Thaddeus' gaze sharpened. "You what?"
Aeliana's hand unconsciously went to her arm, fingers pressing against her sleeve.
"I remember… getting bitten."
The words felt strange coming out of her mouth.
"Bitten?" The Duke's voice was edged with something unreadable. "By what?"
Aeliana's throat felt dry. "By a Tidemaw Serpent."
The room stilled.
Tidemaw Serpents.
A species of aquatic monsters known for their razor-sharp fangs and venomous bites. Highly aggressive. Infected wounds from them could be lethal if not treated quickly.
"You were bitten?" Thaddeus' tone turned sharper.
Aeliana nodded slowly. "But it was just a scratch," she said quickly. "It healed immediately, and I—I killed countless of those monsters afterward, so I didn't think much of it."
Her pulse quickened.
But now—
Now that she was speaking the words aloud—
Now that she was thinking about it—
She realized.
She had never told anyone about that wound.
She had never thought about it again after that day.
And yet, it had healed immediately?
That wasn't normal.
Not even for her.
Lucavion finally spoke, his voice low, unreadable.
"Healed… immediately?"
Aeliana met his gaze.
And for the first time, she felt a shiver of unease.
Lucavion's dark eyes studied her carefully, his usual smirk absent.
"It must have been that time," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Aeliana's breath was unsteady. "What do you mean?"
Lucavion didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee, his gaze calculating.
"Did your mother also get bitten?" he asked.
Aeliana's body tensed.
She tried to remember.
She wanted to remember.
But—
"I-I don't know," she admitted. "I don't remember… It was such a long time ago."
The words frustrated her more than she expected.
She could recall so many details—the ocean, the sky, the way the stone had shimmered in the distance—but her mother?
Had she been bitten too?
Why couldn't she remember?
Thaddeus, who had remained silent, exhaled slowly. His golden eyes had darkened with something deep, something unreadable.
"Well, that is all in the past, is it not?"