The long blade was stabbed at an angle into the blood-stained ground, its blade reflecting the dim sky as the buzzing gradually faded.
Ron leaned back against a section of broken wall and slowly sat down. His posture was almost relaxed, as if he were merely taking a short break after a bit of labor.
This was true if one ignored the two twisted, lifeless corpses of God-Enlightened at his feet, as well as the several fatal wounds on his own body that were deep enough to see bone and were only now slowly closing.
His face still bore that customary, slightly weary expression, as if the newly added scars and dead enemies were nothing more than insignificant footnotes for the day.
He fished a half-box of blood-soaked cigarettes from his torn pocket, pulled one out, lit it, and took a deep breath. The pungent smoke temporarily suppressed the pain of his mangled flesh and blurred the trace of genuine exhaustion in his eyes.
Just as this puff of smoke was about to end —
*Vroom!*
A vast, ancient, and majestic fluctuation rippled from the distance.
The fingers holding the cigarette suddenly froze in mid-air.
Ash fell in a silent cascade.
Ron’s pupils constricted to pinpricks in an instant. His customary mask of indifference cracked for the first time, completely overwhelmed by a stormy wave of disbelief.
The texture of this power…
Lord Protector, Jiang Ming.
There was absolutely, positively no mistake. It was the aura that had once shone over the Empire like a scorching sun, and had been branded into the depths of the souls of all Shadows of Glory like an iron law.
It was the source that he had once sworn to follow to the death, yet whose eventual fall had caused him to lose all heart for that path and choose self-exile.
“Jiang Ming… has been dead for a long time,” he whispered to himself. His voice was hoarse and dry, as if he were trying to convince himself. That was a fact that had been settled 100 years ago, the final note to the end of an era for the Empire, and the starting point for Ron to choose to be Ron instead of an Archon.
But right now, this was clearly…
He stared silently at the cigarette butt about to burn out between his fingers. The firelight flickered in his eyes, reflecting the turbulent waves buried beneath the dust of time.
After a long silence, he smiled.
“What is going on today?” he asked quietly, unsure if he was questioning fickle fate, the soul that should have been at rest, or his own heart that had long been silent but was now stirred once again.
The long blade let out a clear, trembling hum, as if echoing its master’s mood. Ron gripped the hilt and used the blade as a staff, supporting his broken but still straight body as he slowly stood up. His fatal wounds were still throbbing with pain, and his strength was nearing exhaustion after the successive fierce battles, but his gaze had refocused, sharp as an unsheathed blade.
Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and dragged his blood-stained body, step by step, toward the direction where the fluctuation had originated.
Whether it was a returning soul or another monumental lie, he had to see it with his own eyes to confirm it. Some answers could only be found before the edge of a blade.
***
Dome of Knowledge, Stargazing Platform.
Eternal silence and the clear light of knowledge flowed here.
Nafi did not look up at the celestial bodies. She stood quietly by the crystal window, her gaze lowered, piercing through the Academy’s layered barriers and the blurred lights of the Upper District to look toward the area shrouded in chaos below.
Nafi remained silent for a long time.
The starlight outside the window and the murky light and shadows of the Lower City intertwined on her calm profile.
Finally, she placed her teacup gently back onto the sandalwood table inlaid with star charts, making no sound.
‘In any case, when the Lord Protector, who once single-handedly defined the continent’s landscape, returns to the center of the stage in such an undeniable manner, any observer who claims to understand the world can no longer continue to sit peacefully within an ivory tower.’
She had to go and see him in person.
She turned, her plain white silhouette quietly blending into the deep corridor behind the Stargazing Platform, her steps composed.
***
Alicia von Reinstein.
Rhine Alliance, Presidential Residence, “Silver Oak Castle.”
In the late-night office, the fireplace glowed warmly, but it could not dispel the cold pressure brought by the mountains of documents.
The Supreme Archon of the Alliance, Alicia von Reinstein, whose pink hair cascaded down like a waterfall, was focused on reviewing the final terms of a Northland energy agreement. Her pen tip was poised.
Suddenly —
Her fingers jerked violently. The exquisite quill fell from her hand, leaving an abrupt ink stain on the parchment.
She looked up sharply. Her green eyes, which usually held wisdom, decisiveness, and elegant detachment, were now completely submerged in overwhelming shock and a certain burning emotion that was almost breaking through its floodgates.
She even stood up unconsciously, knocking over the high-backed chair with a dull thud, but she was completely unaware of it.
Her gaze seemed capable of melting steel walls, crossing the vast territory of the Alliance and the cold North Sea to lock onto the southeastern sky — the sky belonging to Opas, and more importantly, to a place she thought had been lost forever in the dust of time.
“Teacher…?” A trembling syllable escaped her pale lips with difficulty, carrying the dependency and confusion that had not faded since her girlhood, as well as the white-hot glimmer that had been buried deep in her heart for 100 years and had never truly been extinguished for a single moment.
‘Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!’
The essence of that power — she wouldn’t mistake it even in death! That was Jiang Ming! It was the mentor she had once looked up to with everything she had, the one she had given her purest childhood love and most devout faith to!
He was the legend who had long been declared a martyr along with the old era, who existed only in the deepest part of the Alliance’s classified archives and in her most secret dreams!
However, before this tsunami of emotion could swallow her, in the next instant —
*Boom!*
An even clearer and more majestic aura, carrying the unquestionable majesty of a Crowned One, yet appearing slightly less heavy and several degrees more resolute and brilliant than in her memories, erupted toward Opas like the first aurora tearing through the eternal night of the Northland. The light even illuminated the sky of the Alliance’s southern borders, and it felt like an invisible giant hand had tightly gripped her heart!
Alicia froze in place, her pink hair moving on its own without any wind.
The majesty of a President, the calmness of a leader, and the iron will tempered in the field of power for 100 years developed brief, real cracks under this double impact. Shock, ecstasy, sharp pain, surging worry, and the longing that had been buried deep in her heart and was now growing wildly… countless emotions battled fiercely in her green eyes, as brilliant as an exploding nebula.
She knew what this meant. The return of her teacher would completely shatter the delicate balance the continent had maintained for 100 years.
The Rhine Alliance, the Holy Moon Empire, Opas, and even all the forces in the shadows would be forced to re-align and maneuver. As the President of the Alliance, she should calmly evaluate the situation, plan her moves, and place national interests above all else.
But…
But still.
The fire from the fireplace danced in her eyes, reflecting the light within them. A century of time had failed to erase that initial flutter; the highest position of power had also failed to completely imprison a heart that had once beaten violently for one person.
She slowly raised her hand, her fingertips lightly touching her burning cheek before pressing against her violently beating heart. There, something was waking up, roaring, and breaking free from all the shackles of rationality.
The aurora had lit up, and the strings of her heart had been plucked.
This time, she would not wait any longer, nor would she miss out again.
Most importantly…
‘Lillian, that woman… This time, I absolutely cannot let Teacher fall into her hands again.’
***
On the throne of the Holy Moon Empire,
The Girl opened her eyes.
But her eyes were filled with sorrow and lamentation.
‘He remembers.’