"Young Master," Seros called again. He'd never seen Arion this speechless before, but honestly, after what they just witnessed, who wouldn't be?
Even Seros was still trying to wrap his head around it — a girl, casually using an ability only Celestial Sentinels or higher should have, wiping out a dozen Dust Wielders like they were insects.
And the craziest part?
She was radiating the aura of a Dust Initiate the entire time.
A freaking Initiate.
It made no sense. The only explanation was that some artifact was hiding her real level — but even then, she definitely wasn't a Sentinel. Her Cosmic Reserves were way too weak for that.
Yeah, she was strange. Dangerous too. But if someone in the late stages of Dust Wielding fought her seriously… they might still win.
But even after she walked out, Seros still felt that shiver crawling down his spine.
He couldn't get those purple eyes out of his head — the way she looked at them after butchering all those men. No guilt. No anger. Just… emptiness. Like killing was the same as breathing.
And in that stare, she might as well have spoken out loud:
Keep watching.
I'm coming for you next.
I'll kill you.
You'll be just another body at my feet.
"Young Master… do we go after her?" Seros asked. His voice was tight, eyes bloodshot. The idea of letting someone like that walk around freely made his skin itch. He knew he wouldn't sleep if she was still breathing.
Arion stayed silent for a moment, thinking, then finally said,
"Not yet. Tell our people to shadow her. Someone with power like that — she's not just some random Dust freak. There's a story behind her."
"Story or not," Seros muttered, jaw clenched, "she's already made herself our enemy. I just—"
He stopped there. The rest didn't need to be said. It was already in the air, heavy and ugly.
"Who said we're letting her go?" Arion replied, eyes drifting over the butchered bodies like they were art. "She has to die. That's not even a question. But we don't need to be the ones to swing the blade and risk whatever monster of a background she might have behind her."
Seros' eyes widened. "Young Master, you mean—"
"A girl who can create life out of Cosmic Dust without being a Celestial Sentinel?" Arion cut in. "Every House will want a piece of that. The House of Drakios won't care — they're too proud to chase scraps — but the five great families? They'll scramble. Either to recruit her… or erase her."
He spoke like he was just narrating the weather.
"If she turns them down, she's dead. None of them will sleep knowing someone with that kind of potential is walking around without a leash. And if one of them does recruit her, the rest will try to kill her anyway. A girl like that could tip the balance and build another Drakios… and they'd burn the world before they let that happen."
Arion finally looked back at Seros, something close to a smile tugging at his lips.
"So all we do is spread the story of today across Zathron. Let the world react. Let the great families tear at each other while we sit back and throw oil on the fire. Maybe she even pisses off one of the royal brats. Especially Ziora — that attention-starved viper from House Urel. She'd hate someone outshining her."
Then Arion turned back to the corpses, stretched his arms, and inhaled like the smell of blood was perfume.
"I can't wait," he murmured, eyes half-lidded. "To watch chaos bloom… and know I planted the seed. Just thinking about it—"
He almost shivered.
Seros did shiver. He'd always known anyone who made an enemy of his Young Master was as good as dead — but hearing this plan?
It just confirmed it.
"What about the map, Young Master?" Seros asked.
Arion waved the question away. "Maps to the ancient ruins aren't exactly rare. I only wanted it from her because it was convenient. Saves us the trouble of hunting down another one."
He paused, then turned slightly. "Any news on who's heading to the ruins this time?"
Seros thought for a moment, brows drawn together. "The phenomenon there pulled the attention of three great families — House Droy, House Arous, and House Gravor. Their royal sons might show up in person. Also… I heard the trash of House Drakios will be coming too."
One of Arion's eyebrows lifted — just barely. "And his overprotective sister? Is she tagging along?"
Seros shook his head. "No idea. But since the formation only allows people between fourteen and twenty to enter, she probably can't go even if she wanted to."
Arion's lips curved into a slow smile.
"This is going to be… interesting."
***
Night had already swallowed the sky.
Kelly sat slumped in the shadows of an alley, one leg dragging uselessly, her back against a cold wall. She hugged her knees tight, rocking just a little, trying — failing — not to fall apart.
Her lips shook. Her whole body shook. Sweat rolled down her face like she was burning from the inside, even though the wind was cold.
The pain had started the moment she summoned those butterflies.
At first it was just weakness — like someone had scooped out her strength and left her hollow. But it didn't stop there.
It got worse.
Now every breath felt like nails inside her ribs. Every muscle felt like it was being smashed with a hammer. Her head throbbed so violently she couldn't even think straight — just raw, blinding agony, pulsing and pulsing, never letting her rest.
She should've known.
Power like that always demands a price.
And she was paying it.
But this… this was too much, even for her.
She could feel herself breaking apart. Not just hurting — fading. Like her body was slowly shutting down piece by piece.
She was dying. And she knew it.
So she kept rocking, weak and shaky, and started humming the lullaby her dad used to sing — the one he'd use to drown out the gunshots outside, so she and her brother could sleep. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it helped. Even if just a little.
She heard them then — the footsteps. The people who'd been tailing her since earlier, now creeping closer, realizing she couldn't fight back.
They could smell blood. Power. Weakness.
Some would want to capture her. Others would want to kill her. She knew exactly what they planned to do.
But she couldn't run. She couldn't even lift a finger. Her body had given up long before they arrived. Her vision was already dimming, eyes fluttering, the world slipping away one blink at a time.
A sudden boom split the air — explosions, close enough to shake the walls. Kelly's eyes flew open for a second, just long enough to see him.
White hair. Feet not touching the ground. Blood in the air like metal.
The boy she knew.
"You disappear for one minute and everything goes to hell," he said, voice almost amused as he reached her. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, pulling her against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck on instinct — like her body already knew she was safe now.
His hand slid through her hair, slow and gentle, but his eyes… his eyes were possessive enough to burn.
"This," he murmured, leaning close, "is why you'll always be—"
He stepped out of the alley, not a single footstep touching the ground.
"—my superstar."