A few more weeks had passed. Elias had now begun reading the last book in the library. Lying on his stomach, he glanced at the cover and softly murmured the title:
"The History of Mirelle."
> "This continent, home to humans, elves, dwarves, and beastfolk, enjoyed a peaceful age for centuries. But a hundred years ago, with the arrival of the Dark Era, eight great wars broke out among the races. The conflicts plunged the land into deep economic despair.
The dwarves sought protection under the Demon Empire, but the elves strongly opposed it. Thus began the infamous Forty Years' War."
Elias rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I remember hearing Father talk about this once... I think the war between the elves and dwarves is still ongoing. But this book was written ten years ago..."
As he read further, he realized the war had actually ended thirteen years ago. During that time, the beastfolk had allied with the dwarves and stood against the continent's dominant power.
The Human Kingdom had also joined the war in hopes of reclaiming territory lost to the elves.
Despite the overwhelming alliance, the mighty Elven Kingdom of Elarion resisted with unmatched strength. Though they lost some lands, they forced their enemies to withdraw from the war.
Oddly, there was no mention of the ongoing conflict with the Kingdoms of Durgrun and Faerwyn.
Just then, Clara's voice echoed from inside the house.
— "Elias, where are you, sweetheart?"
She entered his room to find him lost in the book.
— "Ah, there you are," she said, ruffling his hair with a smile. "Time for bed, young man."
Elias nodded and crawled under the covers.
— "Goodnight, Mom," he said with a grin stretching from ear to ear. "But maybe you should put Dad to bed first. Otherwise, he'll work until morning again!"
— "You little rascal! Don't tease your father," Clara laughed, giving his forehead a playful tap.
— "Ow! That hurt!" Elias whined, scrunching his face.
Clara leaned in and kissed his forehead softly.
— "Goodnight, my sweet boy," she whispered with her warm, calming voice. As she left the room, she paused at the door, taking one last look at her son.
Elias turned his gaze toward the night sky.
— "It's a full moon tonight... So beautiful," he whispered, drifting slowly into sleep.
---
Contrary to Elias's assumption, Edward had already fallen asleep. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange, pitch-black room.
There were no walls. No ceiling. The sky itself felt endless.
Beneath him, he felt something wet. At first, he thought it was water—but when he reached down and touched it, the color made him freeze.
Crimson.
Just like blood.
Startled, he sprang to his feet and looked around in panic, but there was no one in sight.
> "There's no need to fear. You're safe here."
The voice echoed from the void.
A silhouette emerged from the shadows—tall, broad-shouldered. His eyes were far from human; entirely turquoise with a dark center, like the eye of a hawk. His face was flawless, almost newborn-like. His hair was strange too—white at the front, dark brown at the back. Over his black military uniform, he wore a pitch-black cloak.
> "Welcome, Edward Merlin," he said with a deep, resonant voice.
"My name is Tartus. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Edward stared at him in fear and confusion. He stammered:
— "W-Who are you?! What is this place?! And what the hell is this... this lake of blood?!"
Edward had always feared blood. To him, it awakened memories of war—screams, lightning, explosions, clashing swords, frantic horses... He felt like he might lose his mind.
Tartus scoffed slightly.
> "You're afraid, aren't you?
Of that very thing flowing within your own body. The thing that keeps you alive... yet also gives you power."
Edward opened his mouth to reply, but Tartus continued without pause:
> "Then tell me—how do you plan to stop the attack that's soon coming to your village, while carrying that fear in your heart?"
Edward's eyes widened. He looked up sharply, brows furrowed.
— "What... nonsense are you talking about?!"
Tartus's expression remained still as stone.
> "Just listen for now, Edward Merlin.
Your wife... she's pregnant.
And I assure you, she will give birth safely. But..."
His tone darkened.
"Only if you make the right choice.
So tell me... will you choose the child you found in the forest—
or your own son?"
— "W-What are you saying?! Hey! Where are you going?! You can't just speak in riddles and disappear!"
But Tartus was already gone—vanished into the darkness.
---
Edward jolted awake. Clara was already up, her gaze fixed with concern toward Elias's room.
Their son was curled in the corner of his bed, trembling, tears streaming down his cheeks. Edward and Clara rushed to his side. Clara cradled him gently.
— "What happened, sweetie? Why are you crying? It's okay, Mommy's here," she said, her voice soothing and soft.
Elias sobbed into her arms.
— "M-Mom... I was so scared... There was a man... lying in blood... screaming, 'Help me!'"
Clara held him tighter, whispering calming words. Edward stood silently, his eyes distant, lost in thought. Clara turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
— "Is something wrong? It's rare to see you so quiet."
Edward shook his head slowly.
— "It's nothing. Let's just go back to sleep."
But for Edward...
Sleep would not come again that night.
Tartus's words continued to echo in his mind.