Inside Arian's Womb
Seraphyx's body now lay on the grass—still, unmoving—like a fallen star cradled by the land. His chest barely rose, as though he was simply… sleeping. A slumber that had no end.
Kaelya sat beside him, knees tucked in, one hand gently tracing the edge of his jaw. Her breaths came soft and tired.
"How long are you planning to sleep…?" she murmured. Her voice cracked like frost beneath pressure. "Don't make me worry so much…"
A pause.
"Rest as long as you need," she whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair, "but just… come back."
The tenderness in her voice was unmistakable—like an elder sister who had seen too many loved ones vanish.
---
Inside the Mindscape of Seraphyx
LOSS OF ALL EMOTIONS
"...What's going on…?"
His voice echoed into nothing.
"I suddenly don't feel any guilt… any pressure… nor any worries…"
A beat of silence, deep and infinite.
"My chest… feels so much lighter…"
Around him: the void. As calm and black as the universe before stars.
No wind.
No ground.
No pain.
Only the quiet hum of detachment, and his own voice—drifting, untethered from grief.
---
Right Outside Aethercastle, in the Field of Crystalfrost Trees
The moonlight poured like silver wine between the branches of crystal trees. Everything shimmered—frozen, holy, alive.
And in that divine silence, Orion moved.
He no longer held the sword.
His fingers didn't grip it—they caressed it.
He didn't swing it—his body danced with it.
No tension.
No thought.
No battle.
Just movement.
Each step melted into the next. The snow didn't crunch under him—it parted like silk. His breath fogged and drifted away.
His mind blanked. No rage. No sorrow. No hope. Just motion.
And then...
A voice—echoed. It came from no mouth. No source. Not the wind. Not the stars.
Only Orion heard it.
He stopped. Slowly, gently, he raised the blade to his lips.
A soft kiss.
It nicked his skin. A thin red line bloomed. The blood trickled, winding down the steel.
And then—like it had always been there—the blood spelled a name:
"Canine of the Leviathan."
Orion smiled.
"…So this is your name…"
In the Knights Academy
Merry and Tera burst through the dormitory doors, dragging Elynas by each hand like a sack of startled potatoes.
"You idiot! You don't know what you're missing!" Tera gasped, feet pounding the cobblestone as they ran.
"It's past our bedtime," Elynas whined, barely keeping up. "What could possibly be—"
"Look up, dumbass," Merry groaned, yanking his chin skyward. "And listen."
Above the Academy, the heavens wept beauty.
Frost Dragons sailed across the moonlit night, their haunting song echoing like a prayer whispered by gods too ancient to remember their names. The melody wasn't loud. It moved through bones. It woke sleeping blood.
People stopped. Breathing slowed. Children forgot their games.
It wasn't just awe.
It was holiness in disguise.
Then—
A sharp pulse cracked the air.
A blinding beam of whitish-blue energy erupted into the sky, near the Aethercastle.
Not a flash.
Not an attack.
A beacon.
A blizzard born from a name unspoken.
---
In the marketplace
A girl sat by the road, swinging a little bell to annoy her younger siblings.
But then she heard the melody.
She stilled. The bell slipped from her hand.
Above her, Frost Dragons coiled between stars.
Not beasts. Not monsters.
Living constellations.
She gasped softly.
"Grandmother… I wish you were here to see this," she whispered, squeezing her brother's hand a little tighter.
---
In a training field nearby
A lone knight gritted his teeth, swinging his sword again. And again. And again.
He felt the melody like snow melting down his spine.
It filled his lungs.
Eased his trembling muscles.
He didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Not while this blessing touched him.
"Maybe… maybe I'll gain enlightenment this time," he murmured.
And swung once more.
Just then—another Cryo beam erupted in the distance.
Straight from the CrystalFrost trees.
Like the earth itself exhaled.
---
In a quiet home
Lina stirred on the bed, resting her hand over her stomach. The melody wound through her windows like a lullaby.
"This song… I feel like I'm becoming more fertile just listening to it…"
She smiled softly.
Paintbrush in hand.
The image was already forming on canvas.
"Sirus… come back early tonight…"
---
Elsewhere, in a humble house
A man sat writing—slouched, eyes aching behind smudged glasses.
He blinked.
Paused.
The song reached him too.
"…The fatigue… it's gone?"
He rubbed his eyes.
Still blurry.
Still human.
But then—
He took off his glasses.
And saw.
Truly saw.
"…My vision…" he whispered.
"…it's clear."
Before the Beacon Split the Sky…
Above the northern reaches of Arian, the sky shimmered as a vast fleet of Frost Dragons carved through the clouds like celestial blades. At their head, Noctharn soared with silent majesty, his wings folding into elegant arcs of frozen wind. Upon his crown sat Yandelf, legs crossed casually, her posture serene—yet her eyes carried the weight of ancient storms.
"Noctharn," she said, her voice softer than snowfall. "Let's sing."
The great dragon let out a chuckle, deep and rumbling like tectonic plates grinding beneath glaciers.
"You're in a good mood," he rumbled.
She didn't answer. Instead, she closed her eyes… and began to hum.
One note.
Then another.
The ancient melody—a song older than war and longer than winter—rolled out from her lips like breath across ice.
Noctharn joined her. A single, resonant tone from his throat shattered the clouds overhead. Then, like a choir awakening, every Frost Dragon added their voice.
The sky—wept auroras.
Their collective hum was no mere sound. It was a sacred rite. A requiem. A lullaby. A command to the heavens.
"We sing again… our Viking song," Yandelf whispered, eyes still closed. "Let them remember us."
Below, people across Arian froze—not in fear, but reverence. The streets of Aethercastle grew still. A baker dropped her flour sack. Children halted mid-sprint. Painters looked to the skies and forgot their brushes. Writers blinked as their fogged minds cleared. Even the soldiers in training felt the song in their bones—an ancestral memory reawakened.
Overhead, the Frost Dragons glided, their scales catching starlight, painting streaks of glacial magic through the heavens. And then—
one by one, they vanished.
"Your task is done," Yandelf whispered, as they dissolved like snowflakes on sunlight. "Rest in the Nest."
She remained seated on Noctharn's head as he slowly descended, landing beside the Field of Crystalfrost Trees—just outside Aethercastle.
There, already waiting, stood Morax and Neuvillette.
"Looks like we're just in time," Neuvillette murmured, his voice like rainfall on marble.
Moments later, four figures were seen walking towards the field of CrystalFrost trees,
Raimei, Raigeku, Raijin, and Izel emerged.
Raimei exhaled. "Late again."
"Of course we are," Izel said with a smirk, his tone laced with quiet mockery.
Above them, on one of Aethercastle's highest balconies, two men emerged from a golden doorway, stretching like they'd just woken from a thousand-year nap.
Both wore open, flowing white shirts—barefoot, relaxed, unbothered by the cosmic gathering below. Their royal blue trousers shimmered in the aurora light.
One had windswept teal hair, his gaze soft, almost lazy. The other bore long locks that shimmered between opal white and rose-gold, eyes warm with mischief.
"Now this is more comfortable," sighed Highfall, his voice tinged with relief.
Dolorès chuckled beside him. "And yet you still look like a sea ghost, brother."
---
In the Field of Crystalfrost Trees, unaware of the gods and legends surrounding him, Orion knelt in silence. His eyes were closed, blade drawn—not in defense, but in meditation.
And then—
his sword ignited.
A swirling beacon of Cryo erupted from the blade, spiraling into the heavens with blinding brilliance. Everyone stopped.
Then—another beacon burst forth, this one from Orion himself.
The two lights collided in the sky, interlocking, intertwining—twins in the storm. Their resonance was not a sound but a pulse, a divine heartbeat that echoed through every soul present.
And just as quickly—
the light faded.
The world held its breath.
Even those present their said nothing but watched with a sense of nostalgia.