He jumped up from his chair, staring with astonishment.
— What? You mean to say that the five great nations have united their strength, only to sit still for an entire year? They should have enough food, weapons, and supplies. Why would they wait that long?
Or is the ceremony of choosing a Knight of Light supposed to take that much time?
Nevan's face darkened, his eyes sinking with a deep gaze.
— That is the strange part. The ritual of choosing a Knight of Light usually takes at most two weeks, at most five months. But now a full year… This isn't just stalling for time. It's the sign of a deeper plan. They're hiding something.
Aria fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. Her eyes stared deep into the void, then suddenly she burst into loud laughter.
— Ha ha ha… I understand.
Kraan glanced at her in confusion, frowning.
— Understand what?
Aria leaned forward, her eyes flashing with sharp light.
— The reason why they aren't moving their armies, why they're delaying like this… I have two guesses.
Sephist tensed slightly, resting his hand on the arm of his chair, signaling for her to go on.
— Tell us.
Aria lowered her voice, smiling.
— The first: they're waiting for us. Watching us grow stronger, watching the darkness thicken and turn into the power to move this world. In other words, they're using us like cards on the table, testing the true measure of their strength against ours.
Her voice grew lower, rasping:
— And the second… the most dangerous. Perhaps the High God is creating another Knight of Light. If that's the case, then a year makes sense. They're buying time until the knight is born, matured, and joins their ranks.
The hall fell into silence. Sephist's gaze grew harsher, while Kraan clenched his fists tightly without a word.
Nevan leaned back in his chair, speaking softly.
— A knight chosen by the High God is not born so easily. In my view, if they truly are waiting… then this time it might be someone extraordinary, one who carries within them the power of an archangel.
He fell silent for a moment, sweeping his gaze across the room.
— According to history, only ten out of all the archangels ever managed to pass such power onto humankind. And as for the High God's chosen knights… only six have ever been born upon this earth.
Nevan's voice sounded like he was reciting from a chronicle of old. Kraan found himself listening intently. Aria closed her eyes, reflecting on his words, while Sephist's gaze only grew heavier, his claws gripping the edge of the table in silence.
Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out from the doorway.
— Why must you always come up with such dreadful speculations?
All turned at once to the door. Sophia stood there, her eyes gleaming, her voice firm and resolute.
Nevan smirked faintly, shrugging.
— Seems you've overheard most of our conversation.
Aria shot her a sharp glare.
— If you've been listening, then speak your own guess. What do you think is behind all this?
Sophia held her breath for a moment, then raised her voice.
— The two theories you've proposed may be possible. But mine feels even more likely—almost ninety percent.
The room went still again, all ears turned to her. Sophia continued:
— Uprising. The fear and anger of the people. Kraan, the bloody deeds you've committed, the temples we've destroyed… And also something Maria did. She stole food and distributed it to beggars and common folk. Because of this, the hearts of ordinary people have been stirred even more, their resentment toward the rulers burning brighter than ever.
When Sophia's words ended, silence reigned once more. What she spoke of was more real, more cutting than numbers on parchment or wild speculations—it reached straight into their hearts.
Aria frowned, pondering. Her voice came low, neither laughing nor angry.
— Hm… Sophia's guess, our guesses… Perhaps all of them are true. History doesn't flow in one straight line, but like a river with many branches merging and colliding.
She gazed out the window, where the night sky split with starlight.
— The uprising of the people, their fear, their hunger… the rulers waiting for new power to be born, the rebirth of a Knight of Light… Put all of these together, and a great storm is inevitable.
Sephist, listening intently, clenched his teeth, his eyes blazing.
— Then the question is: will we simply sit and watch that storm, or will we change it with our own strength?
The atmosphere in the hall grew heavier, each sinking into their own thoughts.
Aria swept her gaze across her companions one by one, speaking decisively.
— Sephist, take Kraan and train him in the yard. He must learn to fight with his own strength, before the darkness consumes him entirely.
Sephist nodded, placing a reassuring hand on Kraan's shoulder. His gaze brimmed with conviction.
— Understood. I will train this boy not only in strength, but also in spirit.
Aria then turned her eyes to Nevan.
— Nevan, you will go to the eastern continent. There are people there waiting to join us. Old allies, and many who resent the light. Gather them, win their trust. We will need their strength.
Nevan stepped forward, drawing a deep breath before smiling.
— I understand. I will find them. And when I return, I will not return alone—I will return with their faith and loyalty.
The hall fell into silence again. Outside, the storm howled, shaking the mountain's heart and rattling the fortress. Each of them knew: the path they had chosen would change the fate of all.