The heart of the Ice Continent was a place untouched by time — a frozen expanse where nothing dared to tread.
In its center stood Guy Crimson's Castle, a monument of black ice and crimson magic, gleaming under the eternal aurora lights of the polar sky.
Within the grand hall — cold, vast, and silent — two figures sat.
Guy Crimson, the Lord of Darkness, lounged comfortably on a throne of black crystal, one leg tossed casually over the armrest, a glass of deep crimson wine swirling lazily in his hand.
Across from him, sitting elegantly on a seat of pure silver ice, was Velzard, the White Ice Dragon herself.
Her expression was serene as ever, sipping a delicate cup of steaming tea — a sharp contrast to the freezing air that danced around them.
A fire crackled nearby, not for warmth, but for atmosphere — Guy always appreciated a little dramatic flair.
They were talking quietly.
Guy Crimson (smirking):
"So?
The world shifts again.
Sarion, Nyvaris...
Looks like Elmesia's connection to Varvatos is shaking the worms out of their nests."
Velzard (calmly):
"Let them squirm.
Varvatos cares little for their petty politics."
Guy chuckled darkly.
Guy Crimson:
"Exactly.
That's what makes it even better."
They shared a rare moment of mutual understanding.
Suddenly — the heavy air shivered.
A burning pressure crashed down upon the castle gates.
Guy's crimson eyes narrowed slightly in amusement.
Velzard simply glanced sideways, raising an eyebrow.
A moment later, the massive doors slammed open.
Velgrynd — the Scarlet Despair Dragon — stormed in, her aura blazing like an unchained sun against the coldness of the castle.
Velgrynd (urgent, voice echoing):
"Sister! Guy!"
Guy leaned back even further into his throne, a lazy grin playing on his lips.
Guy Crimson (mock surprise):
"Well, well.
Look what the volcano dragged in."
Velzard set down her teacup silently, giving Velgrynd a once-over with her cool, assessing gaze.
Velzard (even-toned):
"You look... distressed."
Velgrynd took a few steps closer before stopping, as if catching her breath.
The fire crackled louder between them.
Velgrynd (breathing deeply):
"I came because I need your help."
Guy tapped a finger against his wineglass.
Guy Crimson (amused):
"Oh? The mighty Scarlet Dragon asking for help?
How rare."
Velgrynd gritted her teeth but forced herself to stay calm.
Velgrynd (serious, looking directly at Velzard):
"It's about Rudra."
Velzard folded her hands neatly in her lap.
Velzard (cool):
"Go on."
Velgrynd (urgently):
"Varvatos...
When Rudra attacked Nyvaris, Varvatos didn't just defeat him.
He destroyed Michael — completely.
Rudra lost his Ultimate Skill.
Now... he's weak. Broken."
The words echoed in the great hall.
Guy's smile faded slightly, though the amusement never left his eyes.
Velgrynd (pleading now):
"Please, Velzard.
You know Varvatos.
You have a better chance at convincing him than anyone."
Silence fell.
Only the faint crackle of the fire filled the void between them.
Guy finally stood up, swirling the last of his wine before tossing the empty glass into the fire — where it shattered with a faint pop.
He walked forward slowly, boots clicking on the black ice floor.
Guy Crimson (low, sharp):
"Tch.
So that's what this is about."
He stopped a few steps away from Velgrynd, staring her down with a dangerous glint in his crimson gaze.
Guy Crimson:
"I warned Rudra."
His voice was quiet — deadly quiet.
Guy Crimson (coldly):
"I warned you, Velgrynd."
Velgrynd's fists clenched at her sides.
Velgrynd (strained):
"I know."
Guy Crimson (mocking):
"Did you?
Because I remember telling you both —
'Don't provoke Varvatos.
Don't wake the storms if you can't survive them.'
And what did you do?"
He tilted his head slightly, crimson hair falling across his face.
Guy Crimson (mock sympathy):
"You spat in the wind...
And now you cry because the hurricane broke you."
Velgrynd said nothing, her pride burning silently inside her.
Velzard finally rose gracefully from her seat, her presence cooling the rising tension.
Velzard (calmly):
"Enough, Guy."
Guy shrugged and flashed a wicked smile.
Guy Crimson:
"Hey, don't get me wrong.
I like Rudra. He's stubborn, reckless... entertaining.
But he thought he was standing atop the world."
He leaned closer to Velgrynd.
Guy Crimson (softly, dangerously):
"He forgot there's a sky above the sky."
Then he backed away, tossing his hands up in mock surrender.
Guy Crimson (casual again):
"Still.
If Velzard wants to go plead for mercy... who am I to stop her?"
Velzard approached Velgrynd, her white dress whispering against the cold marble.
Velzard (soft but firm):
"I will speak to Varvatos.
I make no promises."
Velgrynd bowed her head low — an act few had ever seen her do.
Velgrynd (hoarsely):
"Thank you."
Guy watched the scene unfold with a bemused smirk, spinning on his heel.
Guy Crimson (calling over his shoulder):
"Good luck.
You'll need it."
Velzard summoned a gate of glistening blue light.
She turned to Velgrynd.
Velzard (coolly):
"Come.
Time moves forward...
And so must we."
Together, the two sisters stepped into the portal — leaving the dark laughter of the Demon King echoing through the empty halls behind them.
And outside, across the eternal frost...
the first tremors of change continued to rumble.
The sun hung lazily over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over Nyvaris.
Children ran through the cobbled streets, chasing colorful paper kites.
Merchants shouted jovially from their stalls — selling exotic fruits, glittering jewelry, finely woven fabrics.
Humans and monsters alike moved together in harmony, their laughter blending into the melody of everyday life.
Near the central plaza, a lively training session was underway.
Benimaru, Shion, and Hakuro were sparring in the open courtyard, their wooden swords clashing with sharp, precise strikes.
Not far off, Souei supervised a group of young, promising spies — instructing them in stealth and observation techniques under the shade of the large willow trees.
Diablo lounged near a fountain, a rare book open in his lap, sipping dark tea with a bored but serene expression.
Veldora meanwhile, was loudly complaining to Ranga and Gobta about how unfair it was that he was forced to attend "boring strategy meetings."
Veldora (grumbling):
"I'm a dragon, not a bureaucrat! Why must I suffer this cruelty?!"
Gobta (laughing nervously):
"Ehehe, but Veldora-sama, you did promise to help today..."
Ranga (loyal as ever):
"It is part of being respected, Master."
The whole city breathed peace.
At the very center of it all, atop the marble steps of the Royal Palace of Nyvaris, stood Varvatos.
Leaning casually against a white marble pillar, arms crossed, he watched his people thrive, a small, content smile playing on his lips.
His long silver hair danced in the breeze, his cloak fluttering like a banner of freedom.
A portal of shimmering blue light split the air before him — silent but radiant.
Velzard stepped through first, regal and composed.
Behind her, Velgrynd followed, her red hair blazing like fire under the morning sun, though her usual fierce aura was noticeably tempered.
Varvatos' eyes twinkled the moment he saw them.
Varvatos (chuckling warmly):
"Look at this...
If it isn't my two favorite troublemakers."
Velgrynd's expression tightened — but she bowed her head in a show of respect.
Velgrynd (voice steady but low):
"Varvatos."
Varvatos pushed himself off the pillar, walking down the steps casually to meet them.
Children and citizens nearby stared in awe, whispering — two more Dragons had come to visit their King.
Varvatos (teasingly):
"What's the occasion?
Missed me already?"
Velzard answered calmly, her icy blue eyes meeting his.
Velzard (softly):
"We have something important to discuss."
Varvatos raised an eyebrow, motioning toward the palace doors.
Varvatos (grinning):
"Come inside then.
I was just about to brew tea."
Servants bowed respectfully as Varvatos led the two dragons into a smaller, private lounge.
A large table was already set — fresh tea, honeyed pastries, and soft cushions.
Varvatos gestured grandly.
Varvatos (playful):
"Make yourselves comfortable.
They sat.
Velzard remained composed. Velgrynd shifted, visibly uncomfortable.
Varvatos poured the tea himself — a rare courtesy.
Then, resting his chin on one hand, he smiled gently.
Varvatos (mildly curious):
"So...
Who am I about to disappoint today?"
Velgrynd inhaled sharply.
Velgrynd (straight to the point):
"It's about Rudra."
Varvatos (softly):
"Rudra...
He was blinded by his own power."
Velgrynd tensed, but said nothing.
Varvatos turned his golden gaze slightly toward them — sharp and merciless.
Varvatos (quietly):
"And not just blinded.
He was a fool."
The words hit harder than any yell could have.
Velgrynd closed her eyes briefly, accepting the rebuke.
The words hit harder than any yell could have.
Velgrynd closed her eyes briefly, accepting the rebuke.
Velzard stayed composed, sipping her tea in silence, letting Varvatos continue at his own pace.
Varvatos (musing):
"To entrust your very soul to a system...
To let an Ultimate Skill — something created — dictate your will...
It is pathetic."
He straightened up, walking slowly back toward the table.
Each step echoed with quiet authority.
Varvatos (low, steady):
"This world's system is broken.
The mere fact that a 'power' can chain its wielder, override their ego, their dreams...
It's sickening."
Velgrynd's fingers curled tightly against her dress.
Varvatos sat down again, resting one elbow lazily on the armrest, his eyes burning with a cold light.
Varvatos (disdainful):
"Skills are meant to serve the wielder.
Not enslave them."
He let the words sink in — the sheer disdain he held for the flawed foundation of the world's laws.
Varvatos (soft, almost whispering):
"Rudra didn't realize that until it was too late.
He mistook borrowed strength for his own spirit.
And in the end...
He lost both."
Silence filled the room.
Velgrynd looked down, her heart twisting painfully.
She had fought so hard beside Rudra, believed in him — but deep down, she had seen it too.
The subtle erosion of his pride, his freedom, under Michael's cold, merciless hand.
Velzard finally broke the heavy silence, her voice cool and thoughtful.
Velzard (gently):
"Is there no way...
To help him stand again?"
Varvatos smiled faintly, almost melancholic.
Varvatos (softly):
"There is."
Velgrynd's head snapped up, her crimson eyes searching Varvatos' face desperately.
But the ancient king did not answer her hope immediately.
He remained seated, his hand lazily resting against the armrest of his throne-like chair.
When he spoke, his voice was calm, but carried the weight of profound understanding.
Varvatos (steady):
"Before he had power, and with it, he stood above many."
He leaned back, golden eyes gleaming faintly under the dim light.
Varvatos (softly, almost pitying):
"But it was borrowed power.
An illusion of control.
Now... stripped of it, he faces the truth."
Velgrynd clenched her hands tightly, biting back her emotions.
Velzard watched silently, her expression unreadable.
Varvatos (patiently):
"Rudra must learn from his mistake first."
His tone was absolute — there was no shortcut, no mercy in this path.
Varvatos (serious):
"He must learn what it means to lead — not by overwhelming strength,
but by his spirit, by the weight of his character."
He rose to his feet, his long coat billowing slightly as he walked toward the wide balcony, looking out over the peaceful sprawl of Nyvaris.
Varvatos (low, unwavering):
"To be an Emperor...
is not merely to command.
It is to embody hope for the hopeless.
It is to stand as justice when there is none.
To carry the burdens of thousands without faltering."
Velgrynd trembled faintly, overwhelmed by the enormity of the ideals Varvatos laid bare.
Varvatos (firm):
"True leadership is not domination.
It is responsibility.
It is sacrifice.
It is the patience to listen... and the courage to act."
He turned, golden eyes meeting Velgrynd's with a calm, unshakeable certainty.
Varvatos (softly):
"Without power to shield him, Rudra must discover who he truly is.
Only then, perhaps, will he be worthy of power once more.
Power born not given as a gift...
but from himself."
The silence after his words was heavy, but not oppressive — more like a solemn oath spoken aloud.
Velzard slowly nodded, accepting the truth with her usual cool composure.
Velgrynd, however, struggled visibly.
Her pride, her heart — they both cried out to protect Rudra, to demand a way to restore him.
But deep inside... she knew Varvatos spoke the undeniable truth.
Velgrynd (hoarse whisper):
"Will you... watch over him?"
Varvatos gave a small, faint smile — a smile filled with distant kindness.
Varvatos (quietly):
"I have already done so, in my own way."
He turned back to the balcony, his gaze distant, as if looking beyond the horizon, to futures yet unwritten.
Varvatos (soft):
"Whether he rises or falls now...
It is his journey alone."