Everhour Chamber
The silence in the Everhour Chamber was heavy, the air thick with the pressure of unspoken words. Only the central mana focus pulsed faintly, casting shifting veins of light across the floor.
It was Morganya who broke the stillness, her voice carrying a cool, measured authority that cut clean through the air. "Subaru has issued a threat…. a threat none among us seem eager to address. If that is to be left unanswered, then we must turn to the matter at hand. The Dwarven Kingdom."
From his seat, Subaru let out a low, cynical chuckle. The sound reverberated like a blade scraping stone, a reminder that his words carried more than jest.
Thorn leaned forward, the firelight catching the hard planes of his face as his ring glowed with a low light. His tone was edged, severe. "Why should our focus shift to the Dwarves? Chaos pounds at our very gates. Are we to close our eyes to that?"
Morganya's gaze never wavered. Her eyes glowed faintly in the mana's reflection as she replied with quiet certainty. "Because what festers in the Dwarven Kingdom cannot be dismissed. Their destruction will not remain theirs alone. Mana flows through their deep tunnels as blood through a vein. If that lifeline collapses… all of us bleed."
For a moment, silence stretched again, then Vareth spoke. He leaned back, steepling his fingers, his voice smooth with a veneer of reason, yet lacking true conviction. "I would like to agree, but I see no necessity to entangle ourselves in their affairs."
Vaelorian's head lifted sharply, his eyes narrowing. "And why not, Vareth?" His question cut like steel.
A thin, calculating smile curved Vareth's lips. "Because intervention comes with a price. Should we extend our hand, what assurance do we have that their ruin will not spread to us? Why invite contagion?"
Raizen's brow furrowed, his voice grave. "There is weight in his words. The risk of entanglement…"
Thorn's hand struck the table, silencing him. His voice rang with conviction, like the clash of steel on a battlefield. "Risk? Look to our own borders. Do you not see the rune stones already burning against the soil? How much longer before that fire spreads inward? If the Dwarves collapse, so do we. Or perhaps, Vareth, it is not caution that guides your tongue, but something else hidden."
Vareth smiled deeper, unfazed by Thorn's accusation.
Subaru, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke, his tone sharper than before, his words slipping into the room like daggers. "Yes. They will need help, and it must come free of hidden chains. Yet let us not blind ourselves. Someone… perhaps more than one among us… already makes their quiet moves to bind the Dwarven Kingdom for their own gain."
The chamber fell into a taut silence, every leader's gaze flickering across the circle.
Vareth did not defend himself. He only chuckled, the sound dry, conspiratorial, a knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth that made the silence heavier.
~~~~~~~~~
Ten Minutes Earlier
The ruined streets were a graveyard of dust and silence, broken only by the ragged breaths of two figures still standing. The vortex of shattered reality had vanished, leaving nothing but wreckage and the echo of destruction.
Sora and Veyron faced each other, bodies battered, sweat and blood mingling down their skin. Every movement ached, yet neither yielded. Both wore the same wild smile, half madness, half exhilaration.
Veyron swung one last, exhausted punch, his fist cracking against Sora's cheek. The blow hurled her back, her shoes grinding through broken stone, neck snapping from the force. For a moment, she staggered. Then she straightened, blood dripping from her lip, eyes alight with a cold, unyielding glow.
Veyron's laughter erupted, sharp and barking, each note carrying cruel delight. He raised his sword and pointed it at her. "You, maid… you've made my day! Truly, you have been fun. No matter what I throw at you, you always counter. Always refusing to die."
Sora said nothing. Her silence was a blade sharper than any weapon, her stare fixed on him. Inside, her mind churned with icy precision. How do I end this? How do I kill him before my strength fades completely? Mana was slipping from her veins like water through broken glass, and she knew she could not hold this tempo forever.
Veyron mistook her quiet as hesitation. His grin widened. "Oh, come now. Not even a word? Hah. Are you plotting how to kill me? Waste of thought, maid. You are nothing but my reflection. To kill me…" His voice lingered in mock suspense. "Would be to kill yourself."
He never finished.
Sora vanished, her body dissolving into a flicker of frost. A Silent Frost Step. The ground itself froze beneath her passing as she reappeared before him, her hand encased in jagged ice, fingers spearing straight for his eyes.
Veyron tried to twist away, but found his foot anchored, ice crawling up his leg from the spot where she had touched the earth. His grin faltered for the first time. Yet instead of fear, amusement glimmered. He bent low with an acrobat's grace, her strike slicing the air above his head.
The moment her hand missed, the ground erupted. A bloom of crystalline spears burst upward, a Frozen Bloom meant to impale him where he stood. But Veyron had already thrown himself free, his sword planting into the ground to vault him out of the trap. He landed several yards away, breath ragged, blade steadying his exhausted frame.
"Did you think that would work?" His mocking tone returned, though his voice carried strain. A bead of sweat traced through the blood on his temple. "Did I not tell you? You are my reflection."
At last, Sora spoke, her voice a low rasp, scraped raw from battle. "Then why… did you not strike when you had the chance?"
Her question cut deeper than any blade.
Veyron froze for half a heartbeat before throwing his head back in wild, hollow laughter.
"And why should I? Do you not see it? No matter what I do, you will always counter! You would have turned even that opening against me!"
Sora stood still, ignoring the sting of her wounds. She simply studied him, her icy mind weighing the narrowing path forward.
Veyron's grin faltered. His eyes grew sharp, his voice dropping to a bored murmur. "This drags on. It is becoming… tedious."
He lifted his sword. Dark power shimmered along its edge, vibrating like a living thing. "Why don't we…"
The words cut off.
A voice, cold and absolute, carved into his mind. A voice no one else heard. "Veyron…"
He stiffened. It was Vielwalker.
"I believe the time is near. Leave there immediately."
"UGH!" Veyron roared aloud, anger flooding his face.
Sora seized the moment. Her form blurred, another Silent Frost Step carrying her low, her strike aimed to sever his knees.
But Veyron's instincts flared. His sword dropped in a sharp block—
"Veyron."
This time the voice carried weight.
A crushing aura descended upon him, drowning him in suffocating darkness. It was not physical—it was the weight of Vielwalker's will. His soul felt pressed into dust. His blade wavered. His knees buckled.
Even Sora froze. The air itself curdled with an oppressive void. Her lungs burned, as though poisoned. She thought, What… is this?
Veyron gasped, struggling to stay upright. "I… I will leave! I will leave!" he spat through clenched teeth.
And just like that, the pressure vanished. Air rushed back into their lungs, bitter and sharp. Both staggered, chests heaving, dizzy from the sudden release.
Sora bent forward, clutching her chest, her body trembling. Her mind reeled. That wasn't his power…
Veyron rose slowly, his grin gone, his face carved in fury. He sheathed his sword with a deliberate, sharp click. His voice was flat now, empty of playfulness. "Well, Maid. May we meet again."
And with a flash, he was gone.
Sora stayed where she was, her breath ragged. The ruins around her seemed louder in the silence—shattered stone, broken homes, blood on the streets. She slowly sank to the ground, her ice dissolving from her hand. Her eyes, once fierce, softened as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
"I hope the children are safe," she whispered into the empty air.
~~~~~~
Raizen sat rigid, his piercing gaze fixed on Subaru. His tone cut sharp through the still air. "And what made you make that statement? Why would anyone have an ulterior motive to help the Dwarven Kingdom?"
Subaru chuckled, the sound dry and rasping, more unsettling than amused. "Don't mind me, Raizen. I only state the facts. We all know there is no trust here, not fully. Power… that is what many seek. But tell me this: once you take that power without ever pushing your own limits, what happens then? Will you cower, waiting for another to trample you?"
Raizen's reply was quick, the challenge clear in his voice. "Insightful words. But you should not be the one to lecture anyone here about power. For the strongest man in the world, you speak as though you are afraid."
Subaru did not look away. His voice carried an unnerving honesty. "Afraid? Yes. I am."
Vareth leaned back, eyes glinting faintly with amusement. "Very interesting," he murmured, as though savoring the moment.
The tension broke with a sharp crack as Morganya slammed her hand on the table. Her delicate frame belied the force in the gesture. "We drift too far. Our attention should not scatter. The issue remains the Dwarven Kingdom."
The Saintess spoke next, her calm voice resonant and commanding, weaving itself over the chamber like a hymn. "We must remain focused on aiding the Dwarven Kingdom. What plan shall we provide? Every moment wasted here, the outside world moves forward. And let us not forget…time itself moves slower in this chamber."
Vaelorian rubbed his temples, his sigh filled with weariness. "Subaru, Raizen. You are always at each other's necks, and always at the worst times. This is not what we need."
Thorn's rough laughter rolled out in a boom. He tilted his head back as though mocking the chamber itself. "Let them clash. It does them good."
Morganya's scoff cut through his laughter like poison. "And from you, what should we expect? Always so eager to play the fool."
Thorn's glare snapped to her, fury burning in his eyes. His voice dropped, seething. "I dare you. Say that again, witch."
Before violence could bloom, Elorandir, stepped forward. His voice, calm but commanding, carried over the room. "My apologies, leaders, for the interruption."
The gathering stilled. Even the aides turned their attention to him.
Elorandir's eyes settled on Thorn. "But I must bring this to you. Your ring has been glowing for some time now."
Thorn looked down sharply. His eyes widened at the faint, insistent pulse of white light. His heart sank. His first thought was not of the summit, but of his family.
"Morganna!" He thought as he rose fully, the urgency undeniable.
Subaru leaned forward, brows furrowing with genuine concern. "Thorn, what is it?"
Thorn's gaze darted to Elorandir, his voice low but urgent. "Elorandir, open a path for me. I must leave now."
Morganya's eyes were hard as stone. "You cannot leave until this summit reaches its conclusion."
Thorn's teeth clenched. "You dare speak again, witch?"
Raizen's voice followed, steady and cold. "She is right, Thorn. No one leaves before this summit ends."
Vareth's chuckle slipped into the silence, empty of warmth. "To walk out now would bring far greater problems than you seem to realize."
Vaelorian lifted his hands slightly, his tone attempting diplomacy. "Perhaps Thorn has matters that demand his attention. We should at least hear him."
Thorn's hand drifted toward the hilt of his blade, his eyes sweeping over them all with open defiance. "I care little for what any of you say. Do you think you can stop me?"
Morganya's lips curved into a dangerous smile, her voice laced with malice. "That, I would very much like to see."
Raizen stepped in, his voice soothing. "Thorn, calm yourself.
Before more could be said, Subaru clapped his hands together. The sharp sound cracked through the chamber, echoing unnervingly in the space. His voice was calm but carried steel. "Let him go. I will accompany him."
The Saintess spoke, her soft voice cutting through the tension like a blade wrapped in silk.
"I will advise you not to leave."
Subaru chuckled as he rose to his feet, the movement fluid, deliberate. His smile carried danger.
"Oh? And what could you do to stop me?"
The Saintess gave no reply. Her silence was heavier than words, her calm gaze holding firm against his provocation.
Subaru let the pause linger before continuing, his smile widening. "Thorn has matters he wishes to attend to. I will accompany him."
Vareth leaned forward, his voice sharp with irritation. "And why must you tag along? Do you think this is a game, Subaru?"
A deep laugh rolled from Subaru's chest, resonant and powerful enough to echo across the chamber. "A game? Then I dare any of you. Come, try your strength against me…or against Thorn. Do you think you would win?"
The challenge hung in the air like thunder.
Morganya's eyes narrowed as she tried a different approach, her voice cool and needling.
"Subaru…Surely, you must know what troubles Thorn."
Subaru's head turned sharply toward her, his words cutting back like steel. "And if I do?" His eyes gleamed, daring her to push him further.
Before Morganya could answer, Thorn's voice broke through, raw with urgency. His anxiety now outweighed his anger. "Elorandir. Open the path. Let me out of here."
Elorandir shook his head slowly, his calm voice steady against Thorn's demand. "I am sorry, Thorn. None may leave until there is agreement. That is the law of this chamber."
Thorn's hand tightened on his blade's hilt. His voice dropped into a low threat. "I warn you, Elorandir."
Subaru moved closer, resting a hand lightly on Thorn's shoulder. His tone softened, carrying an oddly reassuring weight. "Come now, Thorn. Elorandir only upholds what he must."
He leaned in, his voice dropping low, a whisper meant only for Thorn's ear. "I know this must be tied to Morganna. But stay calm. We gain nothing by turning every leader here into an enemy, least of all Elorandir."
Thorn's grip loosened. A heavy sigh escaped him as he stepped back, his hand falling from the hilt.
Subaru turned to face the chamber, his composure regained, his smile sharp once more. "Please, Elorandir. Let Thorn and I leave."
Elorandir chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "Why ask me, Subaru, when you could force your own way out?"
Subaru tilted his head, his smile softening for the first time. "It is called courtesy to ask."
Elorandir's laughter faded into a small nod. "Very well. If any leader objects, raise your hand now."
For a long moment, silence held the chamber in its grip. No hand rose—until the Saintess, serene and unwavering, lifted hers.
Thorn and Subaru both turned to her. Even Drakos's expression cracked with the faintest flicker of amusement, while Valdis frowned in confusion. Auren, silent as ever, watched Raizen with careful attention.
Elorandir's gaze rested on the Saintess. "And your reason?"
Her voice was calm, resolute, every syllable weighed with purpose. "I am not against Thorn leaving. But Subaru must stay behind."
Subaru's smile returned, sharper this time. His voice was light, but it carried an edge. "He asked for your reason, Saintess."
She met his gaze unflinching. "You already know my reason."
Subaru's chuckle was soft, dismissive, his head shaking slowly. "Then your reason is flawed. Very well, Elorandir…it seems only she stands against it."
Elorandir smiled, his voice smooth with finality. "I see. Thank you both for attending this year's summit. May we see you at the next."
Subaru returned the smile, though there was little humor in his eyes. "I hope so."
"I hope so," Thorn echoed, but his voice carried a solemn gravity, as though the words were an oath he could not promise to keep.
Elorandir clapped his hands once. At once, the room's mana surged, thick and unrelenting. The air warped violently around Thorn, Subaru, Auren, and Raphael, pulling at their bodies like a sudden, crushing tide.
In a blink, the chamber was gone.
They materialized in the mist-laden woods just beyond Weinstone Academy. The force of the teleportation struck hard—Raphael stumbled forward, gasping, steadying himself against a tree. Auren caught his breath quickly, but his sharp eyes were already on Thorn.
"Uncle Thorn," Auren pressed, his tone tight with urgency. "What is the problem?"
Before Thorn could open his mouth, Subaru's calm voice cut in, measured and unyielding.
"Nothing you should be worried about."
Thorn raised his hand. The air rippled, a shimmering, unstable portal tearing itself into being before them. Its edges crackled with strain, as though even the mana resisted the urgency in his heart.
"Subaru…" Thorn said, his voice low. "Thank you. But I must go alone."
Subaru's expression hardened. He stepped closer, his voice tinged with old memory, old loyalty.
"Oh, Thorn, not this again. Have you forgotten? When one of us is in danger, we extend our hand. Always."
Thorn gave a rough, choked laugh. For an instant, the weight of his family and duty flickered in his eyes.
Auren broke in, determined. "Then me and Raphael will join you."
Thorn turned toward him, ready to agree, but Subaru's answer came like a blade across the moment. "No. Both of you will return home. Dreadholm must not be left exposed."
"Whatever is going on, I believe…" Raphael began, his voice steady, but Subaru cut him short.
His eyes sharpened, a flash of terrifying power darkening his gaze. The air around him seemed to pulse with warning. "I do not have time for this. You both must go back. It will not take long. When this is done, I will return… and I will bring the children, and Sora, back with me."
Auren froze, perplexed by the gravity in Subaru's words, sensing there was far more at stake than either of them were being told. Raphael exhaled slowly, his silence carrying both defiance and acceptance. He knew there was no winning a battle of wills against Subaru.
"…Okay, Granduncle," Auren said at last, though the words dragged heavily from his lips. He turned toward the portal, his shoulders taut. Looking back at Raphael, he added, "Let's go."
Raphael lingered for a moment longer. He faced Thorn, then Subaru, his silence louder than any protest. His loyalty and concern clung to him like armor. Finally, with a sharp breath, he followed Auren.
Just as the two of them were about to step through the swirling gate, Subaru's voice called out, firm and clear.
They stopped, turning back.
Subaru's expression softened, the faintest trace of paternal warmth breaking through his severity.
"Do not forget this. Family protects each other. Always."
The words landed heavy, both blessing and command.
Auren and Raphael exchanged a glance before nodding. Their doubts lingered, but they obeyed. Together, they stepped into the portal, and it snapped shut behind them, leaving nothing but a fading ripple in the mist.
Silence reclaimed the clearing.
Subaru turned to Thorn, his voice quiet but steady. "What are you waiting for?"
Thorn chuckled softly, though his gaze was already locked in the distance, toward the looming shadow of Weinstone Academy. His eyes carried the resolve of a man who knew there would be no turning back. "Nothing."
Subaru gave one final nod, his face grave. He gripped Thorn's shoulder firmly.
In a blinding, soundless flash, they vanished. The sudden burst of displaced mana scattered the mist like fleeing spirits, leaving the clearing empty.
They were gone, hurled forward in brutal pursuit of the threat waiting for them.
~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile
The chant had grown into a frantic, unified scream, voices breaking and twisting as if possessed.
"doG htaeD liaH liaH!"
Kibo's breath came ragged, his katana a blur of silver arcs. Each swing carved a body, but the press of robed men was relentless, their blackened eyes gleaming with fanatic hunger.
Ignis's voice lashed at him from within, sharp and unrelenting. "Stop playing defense, you blithering idiot! You're getting swarmed! Move faster! Do you not see? They're about to start the carving!"
Kibo's jaw tightened. He brought his blade down in a savage arc, cleaving one fanatic clean through. In that fleeting moment, his gaze flicked toward the altar. His stomach knotted.
Isilwen.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide with terror, yet lined with a terrible resignation. She and the other elves were being forced into position, their limbs bound against cold stone. Ritual daggers hovered inches above their chests. No… they're seconds away…
On the other side of the chamber, Takashi moved like a storm contained within a single body. His focus was razor-sharp, his eyes glinting as his Empath's Glance laid bare the intent of his enemies before their muscles even twitched. Every strike he delivered was brutal efficiency, his Godspeed Assault cutting down fanatics faster than they could scream. The air cracked with each movement, his presence forming a living barrier around the altar.
Astrid's breath was ragged, her face pale but her eyes aflame. She had seen the fear carved into the faces of the elves, and something inside her broke. Her Moonbind Cord snapped outward in burning arcs of celestial light, wrapping around robed figures, searing their flesh, binding their movements. Each flick of her hand was desperation and fury woven into one.
Morganna's eyes narrowed. She extended her arms, her voice low with conviction. Mana surged around her, luminous and green, bursting forth into the Verdant Aegis of Eternus. Endless vines, glowing like emerald fire, tore from the ground and raced toward the altar, coiling to drag the captives away from the daggers.
For a heartbeat, hope sparked.
But then the floor split. A rush of corrupted mana erupted like poison, and three of the robed men stepped forth. They were taller, their forms more monstrous than human, cloaked in power far beyond the others. Their shields of black mana flared to life, consuming the holy vines. The once-brilliant cords shriveled, curling into smoke before they touched the altar.
Morganna staggered back, eyes widening in horror. No….
Chaos roared around them. Blood spattered stone. Screams echoed.
And yet, at the altar, the priest's voice only grew steadier. He had waited for this moment, and nothing—not blades, not bindings, not even death—would keep him from finishing the rite. He knelt low, his trembling hands lifted high, his voice climbing above the carnage as his incantation shifted, becoming darker, heavier.
"doG htaeD liaH… uoy nommuns I. uoy dnib ton dlrow eht fo sniahc eht yam dna, htgnerts ruoy yfilpma sevle eht fo doolb eht yaM. gnisselb ni ngier rewop ruoy teL. gnivil eht fo mlaer eht otni uoy nommuns I. htaeD fo doG eht nopu llac I."
The air crackled.
The priest's hand hovered in the air, poised to deliver the final, bloody command. Time itself seemed to falter, stretching the moment into eternity.
It was a fraction of a second, yet it felt like the world was holding its breath.
"Brat, stop it!" Ignis roared inside Kibo's skull, the voice sharp as a blade, desperate with urgency.
"Takashi!" Astrid's cry tore through the storm of chanting, her voice raw, pleading, the sound of a heart that refused to accept loss.
Kibo's chest tightened, Takashi's jaw clenched. Their eyes went towards the elves for a heartbeat across the chaos, and in that silent lay grim understanding.
There is no time. Only one chance.
They inhaled together, steadying the storm inside. Time seemed to still for everyone but them. Their speed ignited, and their bodies blurred into streaks of impossible motion.
They slipped through the chanting mob like phantoms, cutting through the gaps between heartbeats. Their focus narrowed, their targets singular—the daggers raised above the elves' throats.
The priest's command split the air like thunder. "End it!"
Kibo's katana sang, his body a torrent of desperation. Takashi moved with merciless precision, every strike a death sentence, every motion honed to annihilate. One after another, the robed men fell before their blades, their cries drowned by the storm of steel.
But then—disaster.
Four fanatics stood too far away. Their daggers were already descending, silver arcs glinting in the dim light. Among them, Isilwen's fragile neck lay exposed beneath the falling blade.
Kibo's heart lurched. Too slow. I can't reach them…
Takashi's gaze flicked to the priest. His decision was brutal, merciless. He abandoned the doomed, driving himself toward the priest, katana flashing, intent on severing the ritual at its very root. End the source, He shouldn't be summoned.
But Kibo refused to yield. His body moved before thought could stop him. With a roar tearing from his throat, he hurled his katana. The weapon spun, a silver wheel of death, cutting through the air. It found its mark.
The fanatic holding Isilwen jerked, the blade piercing his skull, blood spraying like ink into the firelit air. His dagger clattered uselessly aside.
Isilwen fell, her bonds severed by fate itself, and Kibo lunged forward, catching her against his chest. Her terrified breath shuddered against him.
But fate spared only one.
The other three blades came down. In one horrific instant, three elven throats were cut. Heads rolled, blood fountained, the altar becoming a crimson basin.
Then it came.
A monstrous force erupted from the blood, invisible yet suffocating. It slammed into Kibo and Isilwen, hurling them like ragdolls across the chamber. Takashi was ripped from his charge, flung brutally away from the priest. As the freed elves were flung from it, the chamber itself shuddered as if struck by a divine hammer.
The three zealots who had wielded the blades screamed once before being annihilated, their bodies shredded to ash by the backlash of their own sacrifice. The elves that were killed fell limp, lifeless, their blood spreading like rivers across the cold stone floor.
Morganna staggered, clutching her chest, her thought frantic and desperate. Did it fail? Did we stop it?
The silence that followed was heavy.
The priest remained untouched, shielded in some unseen cocoon of protection. His face twisted, his eyes bulged with madness. Then came his scream, tearing from his throat like an animal's dying wail. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Takashi groaned, rising to his feet, his body aching, his eyes scanning the shifting currents of mana. The air was wrong—warped, alive, crawling with something older than time.
Kibo held Isilwen tight, his breath ragged, sweat mingling with blood on his face. For a heartbeat, relief flickered in his chest. She lived. But Ignis's voice killed it instantly, grim as the tolling of a bell. "Brat… it isn't over."
The priest staggered, then straightened, his voice hoarse but triumphant, spittle flecking his lips.
"You dare! You miserable failures! Do you not see? Their blood… their blood will only hasten his arrival! The sacrifice is made! You cannot stop what is coming! You will all be drowned in the power of the Void!"
The surviving followers faltered, their chants stuttering, their pale faces betraying fear. Had their god answered, or had the ritual collapsed into ruin?
Astrid's breath hitched. She could feel it—the weight, the shift, an ancient malice pressing down, cold and absolute.
And then they all heard it.
A laugh.
It bubbled up from the blood pooled at the altar, wet and grotesque, like air escaping a corpse. It vibrated through bone, a sound that curdled the soul.
The priest froze mid-rant, his wild eyes snapping to the altar. Then, slowly, a smile of delirious joy spread across his face.
The laugh grew. From a chuckle to a rumble. From a rumble to madness. It rose until it was a thunderous, booming cacophony that filled every corner of the chamber.
Hehehehehahahhahahahhahahhah
Then it stopped.
Silence.
The air turned brittle, colder than a grave.
And from the center of the blood pool, a voice emerged.
Deep. Resonant. Eternal.
"Finally… Mother."