The dust from the Changing Star's departure had barely settled, yet the atmosphere in the Outer Settlement had shifted perceptibly. Nephis and her core cohort were gone, marching into the unknown depths of the Forgotten Shore.
Alista Tudor stood on a high ridge, watching the horizon. His mind, however, was focused on the internal politics of the city. The rumor mill was churning with news of a violent incident: Effie had apparently killed several Castle guards. The hunt for the huntress was on.
'Apparently, it is still canon,' Alista mused, his eyes narrowing. 'I thought Gunlaug might seize this opportunity to steer the narrative against me, painting my cohort as the destabilizing element. But he is still fixated on the Changing Star. He sees her ideals as the true poison.'
Alista turned away from the gates. 'Let it be. If the Bright Lord is distracted by Nephis's shadow, it buys me the one resource I desperately need: time.'
He began his daily routine—a habit he had formed over the last few months. He walked the perimeter of the Outer Settlement, not as a conqueror, but as an observer. It allowed him to gauge the morale of the people.
The divide was stark.
On one side were the Blood Emperor's people: well-fed, disciplined, and currently relaxed. On the other were the Changing Star's remaining followers. They were on high alert, their faces drawn tight with anxiety. Their shepherd had left the flock to fend off the wolves, and their primary directive was to maintain order and avoid provocation. They looked less like soldiers and more like orphans waiting for a parent to return.
As Alista trespassed into the sector usually managed by Nephis's lieutenants, a young woman stepped out from the crowd. She moved with a mixture of hesitation and resolve.
"Hi, Lord Emperor," she said, bowing slightly. "I am Sid."
Alista stopped, looking her over. He recognized her instantly. "I know who you are, Sid. You are one of Nephis's most vocal followers."
Sid blinked, clearly taken aback. "You… you remember me?"
Alista offered a small, disarming smile. "I make it my business to know the people of this city. So, how can I help you?"
Sid glanced around at the curious onlookers. "I need to speak with you. Alone."
Alista nodded and gestured toward a quiet alcove between two ruined structures. Once they were out of earshot, he crossed his arms. "Okay. Speak."
Sid took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. "Why are you not aligning with the Changing Star?"
She stepped closer, her hands pleading. "I mean, look at the potential! You both are True Name wielders. You are the Blood Emperor, the one who slew the Spire Messenger. She is the Changing Star, the one who united the settlements and gave us hope. If you two fought together… if you combined your strength… we would have a real chance against the Bright Lord."
Alista stared at her, momentarily dumbfounded by her innocent logic. It was the logic of a desperate soul who just wanted to survive.
"Sid," Alista said, his voice soft but unyielding. "It is simple. I don't trust her."
Sid frowned, frustration creasing her brow. "Why? I asked her about this before she left. She told me you rejected her. Why would you turn away from the best chance we have?"
Alista sighed, leaning against the cold stone wall. "You don't know her yet. Not really. You see a savior; I see a mechanism."
He pushed himself off the wall, signaling the end of the political debate. However, he stopped and looked back at her.
"By the way, Sid. If you find yourself in trouble while she is gone—if the food runs out, or the guards come knocking—come to my sector. I might help you."
Sid looked at him, confused. "But… I am a follower of the Changing Star."
"I know," Alista replied, his tone firm. "But before that, you are a human being trapped in the Forgotten Shore. I look after the people here, regardless of whose banner they wave. So, don't mind the politics if your life is on the line."
He walked away, leaving Sid standing in the shadows. She offered a faint smile, but it was tinged with a bitter sense of failure. The alliance she dreamed of was impossible, broken by a lack of trust she couldn't comprehend.
********
Alista went to his room,he took a bag,it had a soul shards.Alista summoned his runes:
Name: Alista Tudor
True Name:Blood Emperor
Rank:Dreamer
Soul Core:Dormant
Soul Fragments:[980/1000]
Memories:[Flame Armor], [Hunter's Sword][Dawn Shard][Light Lamp][Heaven's Jar][M… Un…old]
Echoes: [Cursed Herald]
Attributes:[Uniqueness of Black Emperor], [Instincts], [Barbarian], [Battle Analyzer]
Aspect:[Black Emperor]
Aspect Rank:Divine
Aspect Ability:[Bribe]
Alista thought,'Time to grow a new core.' and he started to grow the soul stronger by absorbing the soul shard.After the emptying the half of the bag,the fragments hit full.
[Your Soul core is full]
[Forming a new Core]
Suddenly his body started spasm,Alista wriggled in the Pain,his body started to contort in pain,Alista immediately fell down,his body was like in short circuit,he groaned in pain.After few minutes,he fell unconscious.
As Alista woke up,he saw Gwen,Fors,Klaus and Artemis surrounded him,they woke him up.Gwen signaled,[What happened?],
Alista spoke with a groan,"Nothing,Just filling my core."Fors eyes widened and spoke,"Then it is fine,Check your runes.",Alista nodded and checked her runes:
Name: Alista Tudor
True Name:Blood Emperor
Rank:Dreamer
Class: Monster
Soul Core:Dormant
Soul Fragments:[1/2000]
Memories:[Flame Armor], [Hunter's Sword][Dawn Shard][Light Lamp][Heaven's Jar][M… Un…old]
Echoes: [Cursed Herald]
Attributes:[Uniqueness of Black Emperor], [Instincts], [Barbarian], [Battle Analyzer]
Aspect:[Black Emperor]
Aspect Rank:Divine
Aspect Ability:[Bribe]
Alista Tudor stood in the center of his quarters, his breath hitching as a sudden, overwhelming warmth flooded his veins. It wasn't the heat of fire, but the heavy, intoxicating pressure of raw power. The essence he had been absorbing finally settled, integrating into his core with a resonant hum. He flexed his hand, feeling the muscles knit with a density that far surpassed a normal human's limits.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Good."
'No wonder the users of Divine Aspects are so arrogant,' Alista thought, feeling the thrum of vitality. 'This feeling... it makes you believe you can challenge the sky itself and win.'
He turned around to find his cohort watching him. They were gathered near the door, holding packs and supplies.
"So," Alista asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is the occasion? Are we moving bases?"
Klaus stepped forward, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Not exactly. We were planning a picnic. So, are you okay with it, oh mighty Emperor?"
Alista blinked, genuinely taken aback. "A picnic? Here? Why all of a sudden?"
Gwen stepped out from behind Fors. Her eyes were soft, pleading. She raised her hands, her fingers moving in fluid, practiced signs: [We need a break, Alista. You are so overworked, you're going to collapse. Take a break. Let's plan, but let's breathe first. Moreover, I found a spot that is actually... peaceful.]
Fors nodded in agreement, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Yeah. We've been thinking about our future so much—surviving the Spire, escaping the Shore, fighting the Sovereigns—that we forget to enjoy our present. If we die tomorrow, I don't want my last memory to be a strategy meeting."
"Do we have that luxury?" Artemis interrupted, her voice sharp and cold. She stood with her arms crossed, the very image of vigilance. "We are in an uncharted area of the Dream Realm. We are surrounded by nightmares. We need to be alert at all times, not lounging around like tourists."
Klaus rolled his eyes, groaning theatrically. "Don't spoil the fun, Princess. You are what we call a 'Party Spoiler.' You're going to get wrinkles if you frown that much."
Artemis's eyes narrowed, and her hand twitched toward her sword. "Excuse me?"
Before the bickering could escalate into a duel, Alista stepped between them. He looked at the tired lines around Gwen's eyes and the desperate need for levity in Fors's posture.
"You're right," Alista said, surprising Artemis. "Let's take some time off. A few hours of fresh air might give us a fresh perspective."
Artemis frowned, clearly disapproving, but she didn't speak against his direct order. She simply tightened her sword belt and followed them out.
They trekked to the edge of the Outer Settlement, climbing a series of ancient, crumbling stairs that led to the top of the massive city wall.
The spot Gwen had found was breathtaking in a grim, melancholic way. It was a sheltered alcove atop the ramparts. To one side, the endless, churning expanse of the Dark Sea stretched out into the void. To the other, the Bright Castle stood like a glowing beacon of white stone, a lie of salvation amidst the grey ruins.
"Don't worry about the danger," Klaus assured them as he dropped his heavy pack. "I've already scouted this area. The creatures have been hunted to extinction here for the week. It's a dead zone."
Alista nodded and sat down on the cold stone. The group began to unpack. It was a meager feast by the standards of the waking world, but a banquet for the Forgotten Shore: roasted meat from the hunt, fresh water, clean clothes to sit on, and dried fruits scavenged from the ruins.
As Fors was digging through Klaus's bag for salt, a glass bottle rolled out, clinking against the stone. It was filled with a murky, amber liquid.
Fors picked it up, eyeing it suspiciously. "Klaus, what is this? It looks like poison."
Klaus snatched it back with a protective smirk. "Careful! That is liquid gold. It's alcohol."
The group stared at him in stunned silence.
"A WHAT?" Fors gasped.
"Alcohol," Klaus repeated proudly. "I gathered it from the glands of a specific Nightmare Creature—a Fermenting Beetle. It was hard to collect without getting my arm dissolved, but I distilled it. It's safe... mostly."
Just like that, the mood brightened. The absurdity of drinking booze made from a monster broke the tension that had been strangling them for weeks.
They set up a small, smokeless fire. Klaus uncorked the bottle and poured the amber liquid into makeshift cups carved from bone.
"To survival," Alista toasted.
"To not dying," Fors added.
Alista took a drink and immediately choked. It burned. It felt like swallowing liquid fire mixed with iron filings. "Wow. This is strong. Way too strong."
But as the burn faded, a warm buzz settled in his stomach. The others coughed and sputtered, but soon, laughter replaced the coughing. The alcohol loosened their tongues, and for the first time in a long time, they weren't soldiers or survivors. They were just young people sitting around a fire.
Alista and Fors began to trade stories about their "past life" in the Outskirts—carefully coded to sound like the Waking World rather than their previous lives on Earth.
"You should have seen her," Alista said, gesturing with his cup. "She wanted armor, but we had no credits. So, what does she do? She breaks into an arcade at night and dismantles the high-score punching machine just to steal the metal plating!"
Gwen clapped her hands silently, her shoulders shaking with laughter. Klaus howled, nearly spilling his drink. Even Artemis let out a genuine, musical laugh, her icy façade melting in the warmth of the fire.
"I needed the durasteel!" Fors defended herself, her cheeks flushed. "It was quality material!"
The laughter died down eventually, leaving a comfortable silence. The wind howled over the Dark Sea, a reminder of where they were, but for now, they felt safe.
"So," Fors said, looking at the silver-haired scout. "We've shared our embarrassing stories. Klaus, tell us about you. Where do you come from?"
Klaus swirled the drink in his cup, his smile fading slightly. The alcohol had lowered his guard.
"Well," Klaus began, his voice quiet. "My mother and father are dead. They died in a Gate break when I was young."
A heavy silence fell over the group.
"I'm sorry," Gwen signed.
"It's okay," Klaus shrugged. "I'm not alone, though. I have a brother. He's... successful. He became a Saint."
Everyone was shocked. A Saint was a being of immense power, a transcendent existence.
"He works for the Valor Clan as a vassal," Klaus continued, looking at Artemis. "He's a good man. Loyal to a fault."
Artemis leaned forward, her interest piqued. "A vassal of my father? What is your brother's name? I might know of him."
Klaus looked at the fire, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "Cormac. Saint Cormac. Last I heard, he was stationed at the Night Temple in the Chained Isles."
The name dropped like a stone in a quiet pond.
Alista's eyes widened, the alcohol buzz vanishing instantly.
Across the fire, Fors stiffened, her face going pale.
Alista's mind raced, connecting the dots of a story he knew all too well. 'Klaus is Cormac's brother? That is... that is messed up.'
He knew the future. He knew the plot of the novel. In the future, Saint Cormac would be betrayed. He would die a brutal, lonely death at the hands of Saint Tyris of the Sky Tide, a direct result of the machinations involving the release of Mordret, the Prince of Nothing.
And the people responsible for setting those events in motion... were the very people in this settlement.
Alista looked at Klaus, who was smiling fondly at the thought of his brother, completely unaware that his sibling was walking toward a doomed fate.
'This is bad,' Alista thought, a cold knot forming in his stomach. 'This is really, really bad.'