The chamber of the Umbral Blades stood silent, every throne wrapped in tension.
Elder Solarin held the crimson-swaddled child in his arms, and the pendant around her neck shimmered with a soft, impossible light — the mark of the Asharim.
The rulers of gods and kings exchanged wary glances.
The truth had fallen like a blade among them: Elder Solarin's brother, Naemir, had carried the sigil.
That meant Elder Solarin himself was Asharim — the blood they thought long erased.
Whispers broke like cracks through stone.
The Watcher of Worlds was no mere observer.
He was a survivor of the line they had destroyed.
The silence stretched until the God of Chains — Zerathul rose, his voice slicing through the stillness.
"Aurelia," he said, cold and sharp. "Did I not assign you to watch Solarin? To tell me if anything stirred?"
The Aurora Sentinel turned her radiant gaze toward him, unflinching.
"And what makes you think you can command me? You do not rule me, Zerathul. If you have something to say—"
Her tone hardened. "—say it to my face. Or are you still as afraid as before?"
The King of Beasts grinned, his laughter low and feral.
"Careful, God of Chains. She bites."
Zerathul's eyes narrowed, but the spirit of his fury cracked again.
"Tell me then, Sentinel… did you know?"
"Yes," Aurelia replied simply.
The Sea King rumbled, voice deep as tide. "For how long?"
"Sixty years."
The hall erupted — lightning flared, flame hissed, frost crawled over the marble.
The revelation burned through the air like wildfire.
Zerathul's crown dimmed, his anger poisonous.
"Sixty years… and silence. I should have expected no more from the House of Elyndor."
He rose, voice dripping contempt.
"What should I expect of you after what happened to your brother?"
The Angel King frowned. "Her brother?"
Zerathul's smile was thin and cruel.
"He was fool—"
Before he could finish, light shimmered beside Aurelia.
The blind man who had entered with her appeared in a flicker, his sword pressed lightly against Zerathul's throat. The blade hummed with quiet, radiant power. His voice was calm, yet sharp as a blade's edge.
"Watch what you say."
Zerathul froze — not out of fear, but recognition. The aura surrounding the swordsman was ancient. Lethal.
Aurelia's tone softened, but her eyes stayed bright as dawn.
"It's fine," she said quietly.
The swordsman hesitated, then lowered his blade and vanished as silently as he came — his form dissolving into light once more.
"Continue," Aurelia said.
Zerathul's jaw clenched, but he forced a smile.
"He was fool enough to challenge Aelthar the Eternal. And what did it earn him? The loss of an arm."
A low laugh broke the tension — it came from the King of Beasts.
"You really are that stupid," he said, showing fangs. "He didn't lose an arm. He gained a scar. And he won."
The Warden of Ice, Kaelthys, leaned forward, frost spilling from his breath.
"He is right. Aurelia's brother bested Aelthar — which makes him your equal, God of Chains. Watch your words."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "No… stronger than you."
The King of Beasts burst out laughing.
"Truth at last! You wouldn't last a heartbeat against him!"
Zerathul's fury snapped. Darkness tore from his throne as he lunged toward Kaelthys —
Only to freeze mid-stride.
Ice bloomed over his body, locking him in crystal.
The King of Beasts tilted his head.
"Why him and not me, Warden? Easier prey?"
Kaelthys' eyes turned to knives. "Say that again, beast, and you'll lose your tongue."
The tension coiled, the air ready to burst — until movement flickered behind Kaelthys.
A young man with silver hair and quiet eyes stepped from the frost's shadow.
His presence was calm, yet sharp as glass.
He leaned close and whispered something to Kaelthys.
Whatever he said darkened the Warden's gaze.
Without a word, Kaelthys shattered the ice around Zerathul, turned, and left the chamber.
Frost trailed in his wake — cold and silent.
The King of Beasts barked a laugh. "Running already? Hah!"
But Zerathul didn't laugh.
He stood motionless, his jaw tight, divine aura boiling beneath his skin.
"He could have ended me," he muttered, voice shaking with restrained rage.
"He could have killed me that easily!"
Chains screamed as crimson light burst from him, divine energy flooding the hall.
The air thickened — suffocating.
Then, a ripple of blue light bloomed beside the Queen of Spirits.
A silent portal opened.
From it stepped a young man — silver-eyed, calm, his white robes glowing faintly under the storm of power.
"Elara," he said softly. "I came to—"
He stopped. His gaze turned toward Zerathul, whose aura was tearing through the chamber.
The spirit inhaled once, voice gentle but clear. "Enough."
Zerathul turned on him, enraged. "You dare—"
Then Zerathul vanished.
Chains exploded where he had stood, and in less than a breath, the god was right before the Spirit — his fist raised, divine power roaring.
The Spirit didn't flinch.
He simply looked at Zerathul's hand.
Then looked away.
He inhaled slowly.
And exhaled.
A single motion followed.
The Spirit's fist struck Zerathul in the stomach.
The sound was soft — a dull impact, almost gentle — yet it tore through the chamber like thunder.
Zerathul's body bent inward, divine blood splattering the floor. His chains collapsed. His aura faltered.
The Spirit stood over him, calm as still water.
He raised his hand to finish it.
"That's enough," said Elara, her tone quiet but absolute.
The Spirit stopped. His expression didn't change. He turned his gaze toward her.
He turned toward Elara. "She's finished."
Elara met his gaze and said softly, "Wait a little longer."
He nodded once. "Alright."
And with a shimmer of light, he vanished back into the portal.
Zerathul knelt amid the ruin of his throne, divine blood dripping onto the marble.
The shame burned hotter than his wounds.
Because now he understood: Kaelthys hadn't spared him out of mercy.
He'd spared him out of pity.
And even the silent spirit could have ended him in a single breath.
The god's fury trembled — not from power, but from humiliation.
The world of the Umbral Blades was shifting.
And for the first time in an age, one of the thrones had cracked.
End of Chapter 6 – The Pendant They Failed to Destroy