Vast plains of golden crop fields and verdant grasslands spread below the grey, clouded afternoon sky, sparsely littered with short hills and empty houses. To the north, tall hills covered a wide stretch of the horizon, and to the south, the stone walls of a small town rose from the ground.
On one of the tiny hills near the town, a single tree stood lonesomely, and under its shade, two men were resting, gazing at the wreckage of a house as workers dug through the remains for anything still whole.
Cathal watched them with a forlorn look. After some time, he scoffed.
"Did you know, Rurik, for killing Oswald, they put me on house arrest. It's as if they are mocking me, that I have neither a family nor a house left to return to."
He raised a leather flask and slowly took a sip before sighing deeply.
Rurik said nothing. His gaze drifted to the flask in Cathal's hand. "I hope that's not what I think it is."
Cathal shook his head, the tips of his ears slowly reddening. "No, it is exactly what you think it is... Twelve years of my life, now only in memories. Do you think anyone can endure it any other way? Gods, no. I would rather die."
Rurik's expression turned troubled as he looked at his slumped back. After some time, he sighed.
"Alariv has fallen. He died to the Devil and was buried alongside his comrades right there. The news arrived only this morning, so you probably didn't know."
Cathal's hand froze halfway to his mouth. For a long moment, he only stared at the flask, as if it had said something cruel.
"...Alariv too, huh." His voice cracked. "Ascendeds like us really seem to be dying like flies lately, eh?"
He took a slow sip.
Rurik continued.
"Gaius will most likely ask me to join and assist the previous reinforcement team in tracking the Devil. So, I'll be gone by either today or tomorrow."
The meaning of his words was clear. Since he'd be leaving soon, now was likely the only time Cathal could ask him for something.
Cathal turned to look at him, his face unreadable. Then he nodded towards a spot a few hundred metres away, where the corpse of the Fallen Demon lay sprawled on the ground, its black, fetid blood seeping into the soil and turning it dark and lifeless.
"They still can't find how the Fallen Demon found its way into Casamir. Maybe you can solve this particular mystery before you leave."
Rurik simply nodded, stood up, and made his way down the hill.
Sometime later, he was studying the corpse, the burning stench assaulting his nose like a tide. Investigations were still underway, so the body hadn't been moved. Renn and his Awakened were nearby, examining the scene themselves.
Rurik circled the carcass slowly, stepping over broken carapace and pools of congealed blood. Deep furrows ran along its flanks, gouged by its own thrashing, and the many cuts across its body had bled the brown carapace pitch black.
Near its head, he noticed something peculiar. A dark crimson stain stretched across the Demon's neck. Though already dry, it stood in stark contrast to the coal-black blood around it.
This was most definitely human blood.
Frowning, he called Renn, the cohort's captain, over and asked a few questions. As far as he knew, none of the Awakened had been injured in a way that would leave this mark, and no one besides Cathal's family had been attacked by the Demon. Even their deaths had seemed swift and clean, so the stain's origin was a mystery.
Worse, as Rurik studied it closer, it became apparent that the streak was artificial.
His frown deepened.
He took a dagger from his waist and cut out a section of the stained flesh and skin. It was about time he started collecting evidence.
As one of the Tyrant's minions, the Demon had obviously dug its way beneath the ground to stay undetected. Almost everyone knew that by now. The difficult part was finding the tunnel. The search had gone on for five days without results: the signs of the Demon's march through the forests and plains grew fainter the closer one came to the border wall, then vanished entirely, and even the Awakened had found no clues.
Rurik stared at the piece of flesh with his pale ember eyes. Then he activated his Awakened ability.
Something ignited in their depths like a distant star, and faint constellations spread across his cornea. His essence ran down his arms and sank into the flesh, marking it. Rurik's vision shifted, and the Demon split in two. One still lay dead on the ground, but the other rose unsteadily and began to walk backward, every movement running in reverse.
It was a strange thing to watch. The Demon stopped to push its snout through the soil, sniffing. Then it lunged and clawed at the air, fighting invisible enemies. The mark only held the Demon's own flesh, so Corvin, Renn and the others who had fought it didn't appear at all.
Feeling his essence deplete at a slowly increasing rate, Rurik turned off his ability. He already knew most of the Demon's route, so he would only need it again near the outskirts.
He wrapped the flesh in a cloth, tucked it in his coat, and left the carcass, walking north towards the border wall, where the Demon's path led.
***
"This kingdom is doomed."
Gaius's words landed flatter than the gravity of the situation warranted, echoing through the silent chamber with that same monotone voice that seemed always unchanged, until it was filled with boundless rage.
Ashoka honestly did not know if disturbing Eldrin so soon after what had happened was a good idea. The boy was still grieving, after all.
Gaius did not seem to think it would be a problem. In fact, he thought it was the perfect time.
The chamber remained silent for some time, before a figure stood up from some forlorn corner of the room.
Eldrin raised his head, his red, sunken eyes shrouded in deep shadows, an incomprehensible emotion hidden within them. He seemed to think of what to say, before sighing resignedly.
"Why, is it because I'm king again?" His voice came out hollow.
Ashoka turned towards Gaius, unsure, only to see an expression of guilt plastered over his face. That expression had been there ever since Gaius had received the news of Alariv's death. Was the guilt over the knowledge that his actions had cost the lives of his companions and the soldiers, those who'd gone with Alariv, or was it for the death of his brother itself? It couldn't be for Eldrin, surely, because the one important difference between his and Gaius's version of the plan was that Eldrin would have to die for the latter.
So, what was it? Ashoka didn't know, and quite frankly, he didn't care either.
Hearing Eldrin's words, Gaius pursed his lips, and even that looked strange on him. Eventually, he said:
"No."
"Then what?"
"We have lost too many Ascendeds in this recent expedition," Gaius finally explained, "around two cohorts' worth.That is a third of all the Ascendeds we have in Casamir." Gaius paused for just a moment.
"Our forces are too few and spread thin. Even before, we had been struggling to make ends meet, and now? What do you think will happen if another Tyrant comes knocking at our doorstep? Casamir will fall."
Eldrin stared at him, brows drawing together.
"And why have you come to me? Go talk to your soldiers. I can't help in any way here."
Gaius shook his head slowly. "The only way to salvation is if we gain a Transcendent-level power. Before, my father used to fill that gap, and now we need someone new to do that." He turned his gaze to the Crown resting over Eldrin's head, his expression hardening with resolve. "We need to use the Black Crown's power, just like he had in the past, and turn an Ascended into a Transcendent."
"You know it won't work, uncle." Eldrin's voice carried a tired, worn-down edge. "You yourself told me that grandfather had already tried with other Ascendeds before, and he failed."
Gaius stared at him intently for a long moment, before the corner of his mouth lifted.
"No. I think I might have found a way."
Over the next few minutes, he explained the path of ascension to the young boy, this time including the Supreme rank and the concept of Domains.
Then he laid out his speculations about the Crown, its Domain, and the dual Domain system shared between the Black Crown and the Brass Pillar — how only members of the Royal bloodline could ever be part of the former. All of it was information Ashoka had explained to him back in the wilderness, on his second day within the Nightmare. Of course, Gaius presented it all as his own speculation.
"Perhaps the only way for the Crown's boon to be used is for the target to be of the Royal bloodline," Gaius finished, folding his arms.
After Gaius was finished with his explanation, Ashoka finally spoke up from behind the prince. "I think the reason the late King failed is that he didn't know about the Domains, and hence only tried with Ascendeds outside the family. Since the princes were still mundane at the time, he hadn't thought to try it on them, and as a result, failed to make use of it."
"So how do we make use of this?" Eldrin asked, sitting up a little straighter. Even now, he looked ready to lie down somewhere at the slightest chance.
"Well, first, we know the rank of an Heir isn't enough to receive the boon," Ashoka said. "So we should try creating new ranks — like a Duke, or something."
"...What's a Duke?" Both Eldrin and Gaius asked in unison.
Ashoka sighed. "Someone whose power is second only to the King — someone who can veto or suggest changes to a King's decision under certain conditions. Think of it like a Prime Minister, if that helps. You can name the rank whatever you want, as long as it is in the Crown's domain, and supporter by its authority. We'll still have to experiment over the week to figure out how to grant the necessary permissions, but it should work eventually. Since Sir Gaius is the only remaining heir, he should be given the title."
When Gaius heard his own name, something akin to a triumphant smile appeared on his face. Securing the high rank for himself was the only missing piece of his plan, after all.
Eldrin said nothing. His fingers curled slowly around the armrest, and his gaze dropped to the floor.
Gaius, for once, didn't push. Seeing Eldrin's hesitation, he inclined his head. "It doesn't need to be decided tonight. But the preparations should begin regardless — the rank, the permissions, whatever ceremony the Crown demands to recognize it. None of that happens overnight."
"Fine," Eldrin said eventually, his voice barely above a murmur. "Do what you need to. Just... not tonight. I can't think about it tonight."
"Of course," Ashoka said. For the first time in a long time, he realized that he wasn't any good at comforting anyone.
Gaius lingered a moment longer, studying Eldrin's slumped form with an expression Ashoka couldn't quite place.
"Get some rest, Eldrin," he said finally. "Whatever grief you still owe your uncles, it will still be waiting for you tomorrow."
Eldrin didn't respond. His eyes stayed fixed on some speck on the floor.
Gaius gave a short, stiff bow — more formality than feeling — and turned toward the door. Ashoka followed a half step behind, his chest tightening uncomfortably as he threw one last glance at the boy, who hadn't moved from his chair, before the door shut between them.
For a few paces, neither of them spoke. The corridor beyond was better lit than most of the palace at this hour, sunlight slanting gold and heavy through tall windows, catching dust in the air like something suspended in amber. It should have felt peaceful, but it didn't.
"You didn't have to push him so hard," Ashoka said eventually, keeping his voice low. "He's barely holding together."
"He needed to hear it while the grief was still fresh." Gaius didn't slow his pace. "A tired mind agrees to things a rested one would argue against."
Ashoka said nothing, mostly because there wasn't a clean way to argue it.
"You should learn from this as well," Gaius added, almost as an afterthought. "Grief is a fog. It's easy to get lost in it, and much harder to want to find a way out. You saw how easily someone can be used in such a state. A king cannot afford that, and neither can any leader in general, not for long."
Ashoka scoffed without a shred of mirth. "You talk as if you hadn't almost killed me with your own clouded mind."
Gaius's expression didn't change.
"And that's how you learnt a mind clouded by anger can also burn."
"..."
They walked in silence after that. Gaius stayed a few paces ahead, his expression already settling back into something cold and composed, the mask sliding into place.
They hadn't gone far before Corvin appeared from around the corner, falling into step beside them.
"Gaius." Corvin inclined his head, then glanced briefly at Ashoka, who received no such courtesy.
Gaius's stride didn't change. "Where is Rurik?"
"He left the ward to meet with Cathal, last I checked. I think he's mostly recovered from the most inhibiting injuries."
Ashoka noticed the almost imperceptible tensing of Gaius's muscles as "Rurik" and "Cathal" were put together. Anyone who didn't know where to look would have missed it, but Ashoka didnt.
"Get him moving." Gaius's voice had gone flat again. "If even Alariv lost to the Devil, then its threat level is very high. I want our best tracker on it, injured or not."
Corvin nodded once, already turning to go, but Gaius caught his arm.
"Corvin."
"Yes?"
For a moment, Gaius said nothing, his sharp eyes unreadable in the dim light. "Make sure he actually goes this time. No, scratch that, I'll go to meet him myself."
Corvin frowned slightly, sensing something beneath the words he couldn't quite place, but he simply nodded again.
Behind them, Ashoka grinned darkly.
'Trying to play smart, aren't you?'
Eventually, they rounded another corner and came to a much narrower corridor with no windows at all, lit by rows of torches at regular intervals. Ashoka quickly realised where they were. This was the same secluded corridor Oswald had once used to leave the palace unseen.
Gaius and Corvin made their way into it, but Ashoka stayed behind, watching them walk farther and farther away. He sighed.
Then he turned around and headed back towards Eldrin's chamber.
At the same time as all of that was happening, far to the north, beneath a canopy of dead leaves and shadow, Rurik stood still.
A wooden trapdoor lay open at his feet, deep claw marks scarring its side.
Cold air rose from the dark below, carrying the scent of dust and damp earth.
His pale eyes moved slowly from left to right, reading what the world had tried to hide. There were footprints, one enormous, and one human.
Rurik's breath slowed.
Then, quietly, he stepped into the tunnel.