The council chamber of Taleos was quiet in the way only powerful places ever were.
Sunlight filtered through tall arched windows, illuminating a long stone table carved with sigils of trade, harvest, and unity. Gold inlay traced the borders, not as decoration, but as record. Every mark represented prosperity earned over generations.
King Vonrad Gromak Astaroth sat at the head of the chamber, hands folded, posture straight but relaxed.
"Reports from the southern trade route," Vonrad said calmly. "Losses are minimal. Profits remain stable."
A few councilors nodded in approval.
Stability. That word followed Vonrad everywhere.
Across from him, Prontas Yaroslav Astaroth stood with arms crossed, eyes fixed not on the king, but on the map laid across the table.
"Stable," Prontas repeated. "For now."
Vonrad glanced toward his younger brother. "You sound dissatisfied."
"I sound realistic," Prontas replied. "The trade routes are exposed. The eastern border relies on outdated warding. And our military still plans for wars that no longer exist."
A noble scoffed. "You see threats where there are none."
Prontas turned his head slowly. "Demons do not announce themselves. Entities do not wait for permission. And kingdoms that rely on comfort do not survive."
The room fell silent.
Vonrad exhaled. "What do you propose?"
Prontas did not hesitate. "Control the economy directly. Centralize infrastructure. Invest in magical research. Prepare weapons that can end wars before they begin."
Several councilors shifted uneasily. "Weapons"
Vonrad studied his brother carefully. "You are asking me to let you reshape the kingdom."
Prontas met his gaze. "I am asking you to let Taleos live."
After a long pause, Vonrad nodded. "You will oversee trade, economy, and development. But nothing moves without my approval."
Prontas inclined his head. "That is enough."
The palace gardens were quieter than the council chamber.
Children's laughter echoed faintly through marble corridors as several young nobles trained beneath watchful guards.
Among them stood a boy with dark hair and sharp blue eyes, a wooden spear held too tightly in his grip.
Bjorn Yaroslav Astaroth did not smile.
"Again," his instructor said.
Bjorn lunged, faster than expected for his age, striking with precision that made the other children hesitate.
"Good," the instructor muttered. "Too good."
Nearby, a girl sat beneath a tree, legs crossed, scribbling calculations into a notebook far too advanced for someone her age.
Vanessa Romar Astaroth did not look up as her older brothers passed by.
"Still pretending you're important?" Baldrel Romar Astaroth sneered, adjusting his wooden shield like it was a real one.
Hans Romar Astaroth laughed. "Let her dream. Someone has to think they're special."
Vanessa's pencil paused.
She looked up slowly. "You miscalculated your swing again, Baldrel. If that were a real fight, you'd be dead."
Baldrel's face flushed. "You think reading makes you superior?"
"I don't think," Vanessa replied calmly. "I know."
Hans scowled. "Father says strength matters more than numbers."
Vanessa closed her notebook. "Then Father is wrong, knowledge is everything"
The brothers stormed off muttering. "weakling"
Bjorn watched her for a moment longer than necessary.
Something about her felt important. Bjorn took interest in his Illegitimate sister
Years passed, but slowly and carefully
Taleos did not announce its growth, It became unavoidable.
Caravans increased. Roads expanded. Mana crystals were refined instead of wasted. Prontas walked construction sites, laboratories, and barracks alike.
"You're overworking yourself," Vonrad said one night.
Prontas barely looked up from his documents. "I'm racing time."
"Against what?"
Prontas paused. "You'll see."
The First Manistro prototype detonated outside the capital.
The ground shook for miles then the Envoys arrived days later.
"You are destabilizing the balance," one foreign lord accused.
"You are causing a catastrophe," another said.
Prontas stood before them calmly. "You are already standing on it."
They left.
They returned with armies.
War did not come as chaos. It came as an inevitability.
Prontas Yaroslav Astaroth became Prontas Manistro Astaroth and led the campaigns himself. Not from a throne, but from the field.
When it ended, he returned to the capital alone.
The council gathered as he laid the severed heads of enemy rulers before the throne.
"They will not return," Prontas said simply.
Vonrad's hands trembled. "This was never meant to go so far."
"It was always going to," Prontas replied. "Now declare the truth."
Vonrad rose slowly.
"From this day forward," he announced, "Taleos stands as an empire."
The Great Taleos Empire was born. But fear grew faster than gratitude.
"He commands the army."
"He commands the future."
"He commands too much."
Varjak Crisifus Eidenstall stood silent as the council whispered.
"You agree with him," a councilor said.
"I agree with survival," Varjak replied.
They dragged him beneath the capital. Chains of Manistro metal wrapped around his wrists, suppressing his vampiric blessing
(Chains of Manistro, rendering blessing and abilities useless reducing a bounder to a normal human)
Prontas Fonrad Astaroth spoke once in Prontas's defense.
He was never seen again.
Prontas confronted his brother in private.
"They will turn on you next," Prontas warned.
"They already have," Vonrad whispered.
Prontas's voice hardened. "Without me, this Empire will rot."
Vonrad closed his eyes. "I don't have a choice."
Prontas laughed softly. "Neither did I."
He was exiled that night.
Back in the gardens, Bjorn trained harder than ever.
Vanessa studied deeper than ever allowed.
Hans dreamed of crowns he would never earn.
Baldrel dreamed of heroism he would never achieve.
And beneath the capital, chains rattled quietly.
The empire stood tall, but its foundations were already cracking.
Back in the present timeline, Emperor Vonrad Gromak Astaroth sat upon his throne in silence.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His finger struck the armrest in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each sound echoing faintly through the vast throne room.
"Your Highness," a Royal Knight announced, stepping forward and lowering his head. "You have an audience."
Vonrad exhaled. "Let them in."
The massive doors groaned open, revealing Valearis and Isolde as they entered the chamber. Their footsteps echoed as they approached the throne, the weight of the room pressing down on them with every step.
They stopped several paces away and knelt, right hands pressed to their chests, heads lowered.
"What brings you here?" Vonrad asked, his voice steady but sharp.
"Your Highness," Valearis began, "we have made a discovery."
Vonrad hummed quietly, eyes narrowing. "Speak."
"An unusual group of kobolds was encountered near the northern caves bordering the allied Kingdom of Tropas," she said. "They were stronger than standard classifications."
"You may lift your heads."
They obeyed.
"Stronger how?" Vonrad asked.
Valearis did not hesitate. "The Covenants."
The air shifted.
Vonrad's expression darkened. "You believe they have returned?"
"I cannot confirm it with certainty," Valearis replied carefully. "But the signs are… familiar."
Silence stretched.
"At once," Vonrad said. "Investigate further. Discretion is mandatory."
Valearis bowed her head. "As you command, Your Majesty."
Before the matter could settle, raised voices echoed from outside the throne room. The doors swung open again, this time without announcement.
Fauran Van Thorn stepped inside.
"What is the meaning of this?" Vonrad demanded.
"I bring an urgent report regarding the mana storm," Fauran said calmly, as if he had not just disrupted court proceedings.
Valearis and Isolde turned sharply toward him.
Vonrad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Speak."
Fauran moved to stand beside Isolde, facing the throne. "The presence of a mana storm has been confirmed. However-"
"However?" Vonrad prompted.
"There was a boy at the center of the disturbance," Fauran continued. "He appears unharmed. I suspect he is connected to the outbreak, but I was unable to act due to lack of authorization."
Valearis scoffed softly. "So you hesitated because of a child?"
Fauran's gaze snapped to her. "I do not take lightly being questioned by a half-"
Steel rang out.
Isolde's blade was suddenly drawn, its tip hovering dangerously close to Fauran's throat. At the same time, Fauran's hand twisted, claws forming near Isolde's waist, poised to strike.
"Enough."
Vonrad's voice thundered through the chamber, heavy with authority.
"You stand before the highest authority of the Great Taleos Empire," he said coldly. "Kneel."
The pressure was immediate.
Isolde and Fauran withdrew their weapons and dropped to one knee.
"My apologies, Your Majesty," Isolde said quickly. "This man insulted my mistress."
Vonrad raised a hand. "That will be addressed later."
His gaze returned to Fauran. "Why are you truly here?"
"I request permission," Fauran said, "to detain the boy and bring him to the Empire."
Vonrad's eyes sharpened. "Where did this occur?"
"Eirini Village," Fauran replied. "Southern forest territory of the Great Taleos Empire."
Valearis stiffened. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Who is the boy?" she asked at once.
Fauran turned toward her, suspicion evident. "Why does that concern you? Do you know him?"
"No," Valearis said evenly. "But I wish to confirm something."
Fauran hesitated, then spoke. "He called himself John Doe. Dark hair, black eyes with a faint red hue. Frail build."
Valearis cuts him off.
"Your Majesty," she said firmly, stepping forward. "I request permission to accompany Sir Fauran."
Fauran blinked. "What?"
"Miss Valearis," Vonrad said, "you are already assigned a mission."
"I understand," she replied, kneeling. "But my investigation aligns with Eirini Village. Isolde and I neutralized a Skeleton Orc attacking the village one week ago. I believe I should be allowed to accompany Sir Fauran."
The room went still.
Vonrad closed his eyes, fingers pressing against his temple. After a long breath, he spoke.
"Very well. I will allow it. Do not delay this matter further."
"I thank you, Your Majesty," Valearis said.
Fauran stared, visibly stunned.
"But Your Majesty-"
"I have made my decision," Vonrad interrupted. "You have disrupted this chamber twice and provoked conflict twice. Leave."
Fauran's jaw tightened. "As you wish."
He rose, casting a sharp glare toward Valearis.
She met it with a faint, knowing smirk.
As they exited the throne room, the echo of the closing doors lingered.
(The Astaroth Royalty, The great rulers of the The Taleos Empire. The Astaroth Clan was a misfit among royals, until Prontas Yaroslav Astaroth came into play)
Yona moved quietly through the house, careful not to make a sound.
He placed a warm bowl of food in front of Meline's door and knocked gently, just loud enough to be heard.
"Auntie… I made something. Please eat it while it's still warm."
He leaned closer, pressing his ear to the door. For a moment it was silent, then faint movement.
Yona exhaled and stepped back.
The rest of the day passed in silence. He scrubbed floors, patched cracks, and painted over the scorched walls where mana had burned the wood black. The dark brown paint looked wrong against the rest of the house, uneven and ugly.
"This looks awful," he muttered, staring at it. "But… I guess it's better than burnt ash."
His gaze drifted to Sage's empty room.
"…Where could you be?" Yona whispered. "I hope you're safe."
From morning to night, he worked without rest. He dusted shelves, repaired broken beams, and tried to breathe life back into a home that felt hollow. When he reached the living room, he paused by Meline's favorite vase and replaced the wilted flowers with fresh ones.
As he adjusted the stems, his thoughts darkened.
"Where is Sage's father?" Yona thought bitterly. His grip tightened around the flower. "He should be here. Mourning. Comforting his wife. Does that bastard even know his son disappeared?"
Anger flared hot in his chest.
"I swear… if I ever see that deadbeat-"
A knock at the door made Yona freeze.
It's late out, far too late for visitors.
"…Who could that be?" he whispered.
Before he could move, a chill crawled up his spine. His instincts screamed at him to stay back.
This doesn't feel right.
The lanterns flickered. Candles bent violently as wind rushed through the house.
Then-
The door exploded inward.
Wood splintered as a masked man dressed entirely in black stepped inside. His movements were unnaturally fast, fluid in a way no normal person could manage.
A Bounder?
Yona ducked behind the table, barely breathing as the man swept through the house. Then his heart dropped.
The man turned toward Meline's room.
"Stop-"
Yona lunged forward, gripping a kitchen knife with shaking hands. He rushed the man, but the figure turned instantly and struck first.
A kick slammed into Yona's ribs, launching him backward. His head cracked against the wall, pain exploding through his skull. He coughed violently, blood filling his mouth as darkness crept at the edges of his vision.
The door to Meline's room burst open.
Her scream tore through the house.
"Auntie-!"
Yona tried to stand, tried to crawl, but his body betrayed him. Then the world went black.
"I…can't see…?" he gasped.
Silence followed.
Dripping sounds echoed footsteps and heavy boots.
Thud.
Something fell beside him.
His hands trembled as he reached out, fingers brushing soft, familiar skin.
"…Auntie?"
No response.
His breath hitched. Panic surged.
"I can't hear her breath"
Pain exploded again.
The man's foot crashed into Yona's head, cracking bone, rupturing his ear. A high-pitchedringing screamed through his skull as his body went limp.
I'm…going to die
Tears of blood slipped from his eyes as he clutched Meline's clothing.
"I can't die…yet…not..again" he whispered. "I'm sorry…I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry, Sage…"
A deafening bang echoed… Then nothing.
Yona floated.
Warm air surrounded him, gentle and weightless.
"…Am I dead?" he thought. "Is this the afterlife?"
A hand touched his cheek that felt warm and Comforting.
Maybe dying isn't so bad…
But regret crushed him.
I failed. As Yona. As Azrael. I'm pathetic. Useless.
"No," he snarled inwardly. "I refuse to die like this. I won't accept it."
A violent ringing ripped through him.
Yona gasped awake.
"What-what is that noise?! It hurts!"
He covered his ear, but the sound didn't fade. It felt fused to him.
He blinked.
"…Why can't I see?" Realization hit Yona
"…Am I blind? Even in death? This is annoying."
He reached out, hands brushing against a body.
"…Why does this feel real?" he whispered. "Did she come with me?"
Small and careful Footsteps approached
Yona forced himself upright
His injuries were gone.
"…What?"
A voice spoke, a young boy
"I should be asking you that," the boy said. "You just killed a woman."
"What? No!" Yona shouted. "It wasn't me- it was a man!"
"Hm? Why should I believe you?"
"Look at me!" Yona snapped. "I'm injured!"
"…You're not," the boy replied. "You're completely fine."
Yona faltered. "What…?"
"Have you gone mad?" the boy muttered. "You sound like those Bounders, mentally insane"
It clicked Yona
A blessingI awakened…I was resurrected.
"But then… why can't I see?"
"Hey," the boy said. "Are you listening?" Yona didn't answer.
His senses expanded outward, waves rippling through the world.
Three- no, four presences, One's fast and Four-legged is it a wolf? The other three are riding it but they're far.. Too far.
The boy sensed it too. "Seem's our time is cut short, Till next time" the boy left. He bolted for the door.
"Where's he going? Better yet what should I do…?" Yona whispered.
Yona felt it before he heard them.
A subtle pressure brushed against his senses, faint but unmistakable, like ripples passing through still water. Someone had noticed him.
"So I can't run now…"
His gaze drifted back toward the room behind him. Toward Meline.
For a brief moment, the world dulled around the edges. The smell of blood, the broken lanterns, the cold floor beneath his bare feet all faded as his thoughts slipped elsewhere. To mornings filled with quiet warmth. To meals shared in silence that never felt empty. To a home that no longer existed.
Then the pressure returned, sharper this time.
High above the treeline, the Lumen Wolf tore through the night like a streak of pale light.
Its paws barely touched the ground as it bounded across roots and stone, mana trailing behind it in shimmering arcs. Fauran clung to its fur with one hand, posture loose and unbothered despite the violent speed.
"You alright back there?" Valearis called over the roar of the wind, her voice carrying a faint note of amusement.
"Shut your mouth," Fauran replied flatly.
"If you want, I can ask her to slow down for you."
"No need. We're almost there." His eyes narrowed, senses flaring. "And it seems he's noticed us as well."
Valearis hummed softly. "Then we should hurry."
She tapped the Lumen Wolf's back with two fingers. The beast responded instantly, surging forward with even greater force. Fauran's grip tightened as the wind slammed against him, his composure cracking for just a moment as the world blurred.
They reached Eirini Village in seconds.
The Lumen Wolf skidded to a halt outside a half-burned house, ash crunching beneath its paws. Fauran dismounted first, eyes already scanning the area. The door stood ajar.
Inside, there was chaos.
"What happened here?" Fauran muttered.
Before Valearis could answer, Isolde crouched near the floor, her gauntlet hovering inches above a dark stain.
"Blood," she said quietly. "It's fresh."
Fauran knelt, dragging his fingers through it before lifting them to his nose. His expression hardened.
"He was attacked. Recently." He stood and turned toward the hallway. "And he's not very good at hiding his presence."
He reached for the door at the end of the hall.
It opened before he could touch it.
Yona stepped out, carefully closing it behind him.
"What do you want?" Yona asked, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest. "Back to investigate more?"
He could not see them, not truly. But he felt them.
Their presences unfolded before him in faint, distorted impressions, like overlapping sound waves. Each carried a different weight. A different rhythm.
Then one pattern struck him as familiar.
"Wait…" Yona tilted his head slightly. "It's you."
Isolde's armor shifted as she stepped forward, metal whispering against itself.
"We are here to detain you," she said. "By order of the Great Taleos Empire. You will not resist."
Fauran moved in an instant.
His hand slammed Yona against the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs.
"Hey-!" Yona gasped.
"Easy on the boy, Sir Fauran," Valearis said as she emerged from the shadows, her voice calm but sharp.
"For what reason?" Fauran snapped. "We have direct orders from Emperor Vonrad. Immediate detention."
"And those orders did not include unnecessary force," Valearis replied coolly.
Fauran's patience shattered.
"You think you matter because you're a half-breed?" His claws slid free with a sickening sound. "I'll do what I want if it gets the job done. Or do you need me to remind His Majesty that you've been more focused on my mission than your actual duty investigating The Covenants?"
Valearis stiffened. Just slightly.
"I will not allow you to harm a child," she said. "He hasn't resisted. Let him go."
Fauran shoved Yona aside and stepped toward her, claws bared.
"Are you ordering me?"
The temperature dropped.
Valearis' eyes glowed icy blue as black frost crept along her shoulders. At the same time, Isolde's hand tightened around her sword, blade half-drawn and aimed squarely at Fauran's throat.
"You cannot take on both of us," Valearis said softly.
The hallway groaned under the pressure.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Fauran clicked his tongue and retracted his claws.
"Whatever," he muttered. "Don't think I'll forget this. His Majesty will hear about it."
"Do as you wish," Valearis replied.
Yona listened, tracing the tension through sound and soul rather than sight. The air slowly relaxed.
Valearis knelt in front of him, lowering herself to his level.
"Are you hurt?"
Yona shook his head. "No."
She noticed his closed eyes, but said nothing.
"Unfortunately," she continued gently, "as unpleasant as that man is, we do have to take you with us. Will you come willingly?"
Yona was quiet for a moment.
In his mind, he weighed the fear against the possibility. Against knowledge. Against strength.
I don't think I have a choice, but… maybe this will help me understand the world better.
"I will" he said
Valearis smiled faintly and stood.
They escorted him outside.
As Yona crossed the threshold, he turned his head toward the closed door at the end of the hall one last time.
"I'll come back," he whispered. "And I'll give you a proper burial. I promise."
Then he stepped into the night.