In a room with a dark and eerie atmosphere… the walls were made of iron and stone, with a bookshelf on the right side, neatly arranged horizontally.
There was a large, worn-out couch in the corner of the room. The ceiling held a collection of luxurious but partially destroyed chandeliers. A table, its color a deep black almost leaning toward brown, stood nearby… At first glance, it appeared to be a royal artifact.
At the back, there was a tall-backed chair—broken, ruined… but immovably fixed into the ground. Isaac sat on a tilted chair, his back leaned back, one leg crossed over the other, fingers intertwined in a relaxed yet calculated pose.
His eyes were closed, and a strange, unsettling smile rested on his face. He spoke in a heavy, mysterious tone—without moving his lips:
"Lord Isaac Arkamand, what an unexpected visit… Sitting so elegantly on that couch, like a ghost lurking in silence."
Lord Isaac was sitting on the couch, his leg crossed over the other, eyes locked on Isaac with a gaze burning like fire. He spoke with a dark, royal tone:
"Saint Isaac… It's been a while since I came to this filthy place. How is your village… and the Six?"
Isaac let out a light chuckle and spoke in a deep tone:
"You've come here three times, and not once have you asked about the village or the Six… Enough stalling, you came when you saw the black cloud above the arena… Am I wrong, Lord Isaac?"
Lord Isaac closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them calmly, his tone royal and steady:
"As always, your perception of people's inner thoughts is remarkable… But I have one question for you: Has the Forgotten Beast awakened inside Prince Faithless?"
Isaac opened one eye and responded with a growling tone:
"And why does that concern you, Lord Isaac?"
Lord Isaac let out a faint, deep laugh and said:
"You know it concerns me… and everyone in the other kingdoms. A disaster like this could even bring down King Jin Li himself."
Isaac placed his intertwined fingers on the table and spoke in a heavy tone:
"No… it's just a tamed dog inside Prince Faithless. We have no reason to fear it."
Lord Isaac's tone was deep and questioning:
"Then how do you explain his lethal attack on Lady Marian…? He nearly took her head."
Isaac smiled darkly and responded with a cunning tone:
"When you raise a dog… what do you expect from it? To protect you from any potential threat… The Forgotten Beast did its job to protect Faithless."
Suddenly… a colorless aura emerged—no shadow, no tint. But the air began to choke under its pressure.
Lord Isaac rested his hand on his cheek, one leg still crossed. His eyes gradually turned pitch black… no whites, no life… only a void of darkness.
Then he spoke in a low tone, heavy like iron:
"Stopping the Beast? I fought it while I could still see the light. But if it awakens again… I will extinguish everything, even the light."
Behind Isaac, a bloody cross appeared, emitting a terrifying and heavy aura. His fingers were still locked together, and he smiled wickedly. His voice rang out in a dreadful, triple-arrow-like tone, without moving his lips:
"You talk as if you were the only one who fought it… We all fought it—and we all lost… The only one who sealed it and broke its pride was the Yellow Emperor."
Their auras were overwhelming—strangely, the room didn't collapse under their combined pressure. Lord Isaac spoke in a suffocating tone:
"The Yellow Emperor… the man with no name. It's shameful to compare him to any of us. But he's not here now. Can you guarantee everyone's safety from this Forgotten Beast, Saint Isaac?"
Blood-red tears dripped from Isaac's eye, driven by the pulse of excitement. His heartbeat grew faster, and he spoke with a passionate tone, laughing provocatively:
"Lord Isaac… I may be a saint… but when it comes to battle, I become someone else. And you know the forbidden title… especially when I lose control."
Lord Isaac laughed with a voice so deep it felt as if it came from another dimension, speaking in a mysterious tone:
"You haven't changed much, Saint Isaac. You took the title of 'Saint' as a perfect cover… and you wield it well."
Saint Isaac spoke in a heavy, mocking tone:
"A stage actor needs a strong heart, and a mind sharp enough to memorize lines and stand before the crowd without trembling… That's me, the actor—not on a stage, but in reality."
The chandeliers stopped swaying, halted by the suffocating aura in the room. Lord Isaac's smile gleamed in a ghostly white, and he spoke with a chilling tone:
"You're clever… You study the situation, then dive in without making a single mistake."
Both smiled mysteriously, as if lost in their conversation. The more they tried to end it, the more a single word kept them going.
A rift opened in the air, shaped like a needle, revealing a dimension shaded in black and red. From it emerged a tall woman wearing a long red dress that revealed part of her abdomen and chest. Her facial features were unclear, and she carried a scythe shaped like an inverted cross.
She spoke in a calm tone, her voice flowing smoothly among the room's energy:
"Lord Isaac, you have many tasks to accomplish. This conversation with Saint Isaac won't end any time soon… You both enjoy reminiscing too much."
Their auras vanished the moment she appeared. Isaac spoke in a heavy tone, resting his index finger and thumb on his chin:
"Everycrimson… I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Your appearances always seem to be tied to Lord Isaac."
Everycrimson looked at Saint Isaac with glowing red eyes and spoke in a cold yet beautiful tone:
"You're welcome to visit us, Saint. We're busy with tasks—and you know that well. Especially now, with signs of the Forgotten Beast awakening."
Lord Isaac approached the black and red portal, partially stepping inside. He spoke in a suffocating royal tone:
"It cannot die… But it can be tamed."
He entered the portal after those final words… Everycrimson turned toward Saint Isaac and spoke in a cold tone:
"Until next time, Saint…"
She stepped into the portal and it closed quietly. The room returned to its normal state. Isaac placed his foot on the table, tapping his cheek gently with his index finger, mumbling to himself:
"The Forgotten Beast… What a terrifying legend."
—
Elsewhere… in a large room with a mirror and shelves stacked with perfectly arranged books… a window allowed moonlight to shine through. Six beds filled the space.
This was the room of the Six Members. Only four were present. Joline spoke in a quiet, sorrowful tone:
"I'm deeply saddened… for Prince Faithless… and for Lady Marian."
Marceline was placing the pillow over his face, speaking in a cold and calm tone:
"I don't know what came over her, using her technique like that. It seems she wanted to kill him out of hatred for his family."
"But what does Prince Fethlis have to do with it? He's just a man who lost everything because of the kings; he has no part in this." Julin half rose, her voice tight, grief eating away at her from all sides.
"Hating someone because of their lineage is trivial… and we all noticed that Fethlis hasn't unleashed his full power. He's only been training and enjoying every heartbeat," Kaidos said quietly, covering his body with the blanket.
Marceline removed the pillow from her face, looked toward Kaidos, and spoke sarcastically:
"Oh man, I forgot you for a moment… you don't talk much."
Kaidos didn't reply. Julin spoke with a teasing tone and a playful expression:
"Looks like he's back to being silent again, meow."
Both Julin and Marceline laughed. Julin then spoke softly as if recalling something:
"Right, I almost forgot… why has Fethlis become a bit strange? Even his aura has become frightening. And what's the secret behind the appearance of the black clouds?"
Marceline looked at her, placing the palm of her hand on her cheek, speaking inquisitively:
"I don't know. It seems he has a hidden power or something unknown… after all, he is of a great lineage that possesses mysterious power passed down through generations."
"You're right. It seems that Tawakizra and Lady Marian aren't in the room…" Julin spoke quietly.
Marceline placed the pillow on her head, speaking tiredly while yawning:
"Looks like Lady Marian is in her favorite place, but we don't know where Tawakizra is hiding."
Eric spoke deeply while reading a book, with a candle nearby for light:
"Enough talking, I'm trying to focus."
"Shut up, half-mask," both Julin and Marceline said sarcastically at the same time.
On the other side… Lady Marian was sitting atop a mountain called 'Malwa.' Surrounding the peak were trees and flowers that lifted the spirit and soothed the soul.
From that summit, one could see a huge and beautiful gothic palace, with the moon directly above it…
Lady Marian sat on the ground, curled up, hugging her arms as if trying to lean on herself. Her shoulders were hunched forward, her head bowed down, hidden by long white strands of hair. Her legs were folded, the edges of her long coat wrapped around them.
Her features were soaked in silence, her entire posture conveying brokenness… she moved her beautiful lips and spoke in a sweet, broken tone:
"What brought you here, Tawakizra?"
Tawakizra laughed lightly and stepped forward with his hands behind his back. He looked toward the moon's beauty and spoke in a calm and deep tone:
"When the world feels tight around you, this place has always been your sanctuary."
Lady Marian smiled and spoke sadly:
"There is no relaxation in this ugly world… I try to escape reality and drown in impossible dreams."
"There is nothing impossible in this world… The word 'impossible' was invented by failures and believed by fools like them, so don't be like them," Tawakizra said in a steady, calm tone.
Then, in the same tone, as if wanting to leave, he added:
"It's better for you to apologize to him… don't judge a person by their lineage; that's narrow thinking, Lady Marian."
Tawakizra walked quietly and steadily into the trees. On the other side, Lady Marian sighed deeply and spoke softly, sorrowfully:
"Apologize to him… I've known him half a day. Why do I feel sadness for the lost faith?"