While Rin fought with the colossal phoenix deep within his mental domain, completely unaware of the events outside, the real world stood witness to a miracle that few had ever seen.
The moment Rin accepted the Phoenix's power, something extraordinary happened.
Above the little settlement, a golden phoenix's brilliant figure materialized out of nowhere. Like a second sun, its wings spread wide, bathing the area in a glistening golden glow. Like an ancient god, the ghost hung there, announcing to the world that a new master had been chosen and that a contract had been made.
Rin's little baby body throbbed with overpowering energy as the covenant took shape.As though the Phoenix's whole essence were exploding from within him, he shone like a miniature sun, his skin filled with pure golden light.
As spiritual energy spiraled into the air, graceful arcs of flame swept across the sky. After flying high into the heavens, the Phoenix's spiritual essence descended in a wide arc, circling the town like a protecting halo.
The brutal massacre that had been unfolding came to an immediate halt. Knights and soldiers who had moments earlier been executing the king's cruel decree froze in place.
Swords slipped from trembling hands, clattering uselessly to the ground. Some collapsed to their knees without meaning to, crushed by an invisible weight—like a giant unseen force had pressed down on their backs, stealing the air from their lungs.
Even Robert and Marissa, battle-hardened knights who had faced death more times than they could count, bowed low as the presence passed over them. They didn't dare lift their eyes. Whatever strength they'd once relied on meant nothing in the face of this overwhelming power.
It wasn't just a vision. They all felt it—deep in their bones. This was no illusion. This was the presence of a Holy Beast.
The Phoenix had come.
Around them, the people fell into prayer, their hands clasped and faces pressed to the dirt, streaked with mud and tears. But their fear was slowly turning into awe. The air, once thick with dread, now pulsed with a comforting warmth.
Wounds began to vanish beneath the Phoenix's radiant aura. Broken limbs realigned without a scream. Bloody gashes sealed shut, stitched by unseen magic. Bruises faded like dusk giving way to dawn.
It was as if the beast had breathed life itself back into them.
Even Marissa and Robert felt like their body has been rejuvenated to its optimum state. This was the healing power of the Phoenix—an ancient and sacred blessing.
The golden glow illuminated the village's edge, extending its reach far beyond. Although only a fragment of the true Golden Phoenix, the projection radiated enough power to threaten the entire kingdom itself. Its might was unmistakable.
Far to the northeast, even King Aurelus paused—his wineglass halted which was in the middle of sipping. A strange chill slid down his spine. His hand lowered slowly as he rose from the throne, eyes narrowing toward the distant horizon.
"…No," he breathed. "That can't be…"
Deep down, he knew. Something ancient had stirred—and it wasn't in his favor.The Golden Phoenix blood inside him boiled with excitement, as if another chick of its own has been born.
Back on the battlefield, Robert remained on his knees, still struggling from the overwhelming presence. But curiosity got the better of him. He turned his head ever so slightly and saw the boy—Rin—resting quietly, covered comfortably while sitting upright with eyes shut calmly.
Amid the chaos, the child looked… at peace. As if he had been expecting all of it.
This boy... Robert thought, his pulse quickening.
'He's not just blessed. He's meant for something greater. He's meant to rule.'
Above them, the Golden Phoenix raised its beak skyward and let out a final cry—a sound so pure and powerful it rang like a divine trumpet across the heavens. Slowly, it began to dissolve, its radiant body unraveling into a cascade of glowing gold.
The shimmering particles drifted downward, soft as starlight, and gently merged into Rin's tiny form. A mark—shaped like a phoenix in mid-flight—glowed briefly on his chest before settling into the skin, eternal and unmistakable.
Then Rin's eyes fluttered open.
Where once there had been the blank stare of an infant, there now shimmered flecks of gold—alive, aware, and carrying a spark of something far beyond human.
Around him, golden wisps danced and curled like loyal guardians, swirling with the warmth and power of the sacred beast now bound to him.
His infant body overflowed with power—raw, divine, and unmistakably of royal blood.
Robert recognized the aura instantly. It was identical to that of King Aurelus Goldflame himself—only denser, more vibrant. And not just the king. Auburn Goldflame, the genius mage born from House Glythorn, and Austaire Goldflame, born of Stormbold lineage, both bore this golden aura. Yet Rin's aura outshone them all.
"That aura... it's denser than even the two princes'," one knight whispered with wide eyes, barely able to contain his shock.
"I've heard that the density of the golden aura reflects the purity of the Phoenix bloodline," another knight responded, voice trembling. "If that's true... could this child possess a power that surpasses even that of king Aurelus?"
Robert and Marissa exchanged glances. They are both reading each other's thoughts without a word.
"No wonder the king wanted him dead," Robert whispered grimly. "It wasn't because he was merely born frameless. The king must have sensed the high purity of the Phoenix's blood in him."
"And knowing the king..." Marissa continued, her voice bitter, "he'd see any threat to his throne as an enemy."
Indeed, King Aurelus Goldflame, though seventy years old, maintained the appearance of a man in his early thirties, his longevity fueled by the regenerative powers of the Phoenix bound within him.
Obsessed with his own rule, Aurelus cared little for his offspring. He viewed himself as the eternal protector of Austerra, believing none but he was fit to rule.
His children, though princes by title, lived in gilded cages. Auburn and Austaire were raised separately by their respective queen consorts, while the king ruled alone, his iron grip over the kingdom unyielding.
The princes met their father only once every three months, subjected to cold evaluations of their growth and performance in their individual training. Beyond providing for their needs and offering distant counsel, Aurelus remained emotionally detached—focused solely on his own endless reign.
For him, there was no succession. There was only Aurelus.
Suddenly, a commanding voice broke the silence.
"Can anybody explain to me what's happening?! W-Why does that child bear the insignia of the Holy Beast?" shouted Vandolph, the knight commander, who had just stumbled back onto the scene after recovering from his earlier wounds. His gaze fixed on Rin, wide with disbelief.
Before anyone could answer, an unexpected trouble came.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. From the shadows of the nearby trees, an arrow shot out like a blazing comet, racing toward the glowing baby.
[CRIMSON COMET]
The strike was fast, deadly, and aimed to kill the sleeping prince.
But Robert moved fast.
With the instinct of a seasoned warrior, Robert moved in a blur—his blade flashing through the air as he knocked the arrow off course. It detonated harmlessly in the distance, sending a shockwave that rattled the trees, but left the child untouched.
His eyes blazed with fury as he turned toward the threat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he snarled, locking eyes with the assassin perched in the canopy.
The archer straightened, his eyes glowing a cold emerald—the unmistakable mark of [Falcon Focus] sharpening his aim. His bow was already drawn again, another arrow trained straight at Robert's head.
"I'm just fulfilling my King's command," the scout said flatly. "Step aside… or die with him."
But before the string could be loosed, a shadow moved.
Vandolph stepped forward, his towering form placing itself firmly between the sniper and the boy. His battered armor, dull with dirt and blood, caught the lingering light of the Phoenix's glow, casting him in a holy contrast—like a fallen knight rising again.
His voice rang out like a war drum across the area.
"What are you doing, Scout Marvil? Did you not see the insignia of the Holy Beast? That child is royalty! As your commander, I order you to stand down!"
Marvil's gaze remained defiant. "I serve the king. The order was clear: eliminate the frameless child. No exceptions."
Another archer revealed himself from a different vantage point, his arrow similarly drawn and aimed at Rin. Tension soared as Robert and Marissa instinctively positioned themselves defensively around the baby, ready to sacrifice themselves if necessary.
"You dare defy your commander?" Vandolph's voice grew darker, his aura beginning to surge like an approaching storm. "You realize this is treason."
"And you defy the king?" Marvil shot back with venom. "You know as well as I do—the king tolerates no threat to his throne. If I succeed in delivering this child's head, perhaps His Majesty will finally reward me with the station I deserve."
Greed and ambition blazed in Marvil's eyes.
Like many in the kingdom, he knew all too well—power was the only language King Aurelus understood.
And slaying the child touched by the Phoenix? That could be his ticket to a future beyond anything he'd ever imagined.
The standoff teetered on the edge, breathless and taut—until the distant thunder of hooves broke the silence.
The earth trembled beneath a wave of approaching riders, their gallop echoing through the trees like a storm on the horizon. Dust rose in swirling clouds as the royal cavalry surged forward—drawn by the Phoenix's appearance, now converging on the scene like wolves to the scent of power.
At their head rode the king's envoy, unmistakable in gleaming silver-and-black armor. His chestplate bore the royal crest: a black phoenix wreathed in a crown of flame—Aurelus's symbol of dominion and fear.
As his horse came to a stop, silence fell over the battlefield. Every gaze turned toward him. The moment hung heavy, the air electric with tension.
acknowledging the envoy's higher authority.
"Lower your weapons," the envoy ordered, his voice sharp and cold like tempered steel. "By royal decree, no further action is permitted until His Majesty decides."
The scouts hesitated but obeyed, while Robert and Marissa allowed themselves a brief, cautious breath. Vandolph stepped aside, though his eyes stayed alert.
The envoy's cold gaze settled on the glowing infant. A faint, unreadable smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"So... the forgotten prince survives," he whispered. "Well.... Things just got more complicated."
As the sun sank behind the hills, casting long shadows over the bloodstained village, one thing was clear—Rin's battle to stay alive was far from over.
The king's envoy pulled up on his pitch-black stallion, his sharp gaze sweeping over the chaos in front of him. Knights were locked in a tense standoff, blades drawn, their loyalty clearly split. His lips curled slightly in annoyance, but only for a second—then his voice rang out across the clearing like a command from death itself.
"Bring me the child!"
His words cut through the tension like a knife. But behind the authority in his tone was something more dangerous—ambition. The glint in his eyes gave him away. He wasn't just following orders.
He had plans for the child too.
He knew the king well enough to bet everything on this moment—and he was ready to rise, no matter who had to fall.
"Tch!" Marvil grit his teeth, furious at his missed opportunity to claim the prize himself. His fingers twitched around his bowstring, but he dared not defy the envoy directly.
"Just in time..." Vandolph exhaled with a sigh of relief. He thought the emissary had arrived to control the crisis. Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived.
"The one who will sever the head of this threat to the kingdom… will be me!"
The envoy's proud words echoed like a death sentence, sending a cold shiver down Vandolph's spine. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the envoy drew his sword—its polished blade catching the fading light. The metal rang out, cold and final, under eyes full of bitter determination.
A few paces behind Robert, Marissa moved quietly. Her hand slipped beneath her cloak and pulled out a smooth, heart-shaped stone. She leaned in close, her voice low but urgent.
"Are you ready?"
Robert gave a firm nod. "Do it."
Without wasting a second, Marissa began tracing glowing symbols on the Waystone, her fingers quick and precise. Her voice was calm as she whispered the incantation—words she had practiced a hundred times before.
But magic never stays hidden for long.
One of the archers, sharp-eyed and always on edge, caught sight of the soft pulse of light from her wand.
"There!" he shouted, bow already drawn and arrow locked on target.
"Stop the mage!"
Vandolph instinctively turned, realizing too late what was happening. But Robert was already moving.
"Sorry, Commander," Robert muttered with his fist covered in fiery aura.
[IMPACT BURST]
WHAM!~
With a single, explosive punch, Robert's fist slammed into Vandolph's chest. The impact was brutal—so strong it lifted the armored commander clean off his feet. He flew backward like a cannonball, smashing straight into the envoy, who had just dismounted.
Both men hit the ground hard in a tangled heap of metal and dust.
"Dont let them get away! Kill them!" The envoy commanded furiously, his face filled with dirt and grasses from his bad landing.
[FALCON FOCUS]
Robert activated his combat skill, and in an instant, his senses sharpened—reflexes pushed beyond human limits. With fluid, almost instinctive movement, he spun around, deflecting a storm of arrows and spells with flawless precision. Every swipe of his blade found its mark, each block timed to perfection. It was as if the world had slowed down around him, and he alone moved freely through the chaos.
Meanwhile, Marissa kept chanting, her focus unbroken. The magic circle beneath her feet expanded, becoming more elaborate with every passing moment. The runes etched into the Waystone blazed brighter as the portal neared activation.
"They're trying to teleport! Stop them!" one of the mages shouted, recognizing the intricate ancient runes swirling along the circle's outer edge.
"Just where did this mage came from? How can she cast that fast?" one of the mage commented, noticing the extraordinary casting speed that Marissa can do.
Without a second thought, the remaining knights charged, blades gleaming as they closed in with fury in their eyes.
"Oh, hell," Robert muttered through gritted teeth, weaving through the swarm of attacks. His arms were a blur, parrying and dodging with sheer grit. "Marissa!"
"Three more seconds!" she shouted, her focus locked onto the runes still glowing in her hands.
"Feels more like three hundred years!" Robert barked, frustration and urgency mixing in his voice. With no time to waste, he reached into his pouch and yanked out a small black vial.
"Hold your breath! Poison fog!" he shouted, pouring as much fear and urgency into his voice as he could. It was a bluff—he'd never use something that might hurt the child—but he had to sell it.
He hurled the vial to the ground with all his might. The glass shattered, and in an instant, thick, black smoke burst out, swirling and crawling like a living shadow.
Within seconds, the fog swallowed the battlefield, cloaking everything in darkness and confusion.
"Sh*t—that's his poison fog!" Vandolph, still recovering from Robert's earlier punch, scrambled to avoid the spreading cloud. He recognized the telltale color immediately.
Robert wasn't just a seasoned knight—he was also a damn good potion-maker, known for crafting mixtures that straddled the line between genius and insanity.
Vandolph's mind flinched back to a memory he wished he could forget: Robert once brewed a seduction potion so powerful, the poor soul who drank it ended up chasing shadows in heat for three whole days before an antidote was found. The victim had sworn off anything Robert ever touched again—and honestly, no one blamed him.
But this fog? This was something else entirely.
The Poison Fog was one of Robert's most notorious brews. Just a few breaths could knock out an adult human, and with enough exposure, even a tier-three beast would drop. The moment the black mist hissed into the air, panic swept through the knights like wildfire. Those who had heard the stories turned and bolted.
But not everyone was so lucky.
Some, too bold—or too clueless—charged straight into the death cloud, unaware they'd just stepped into a silent grave.
"Clear the fog! Now!" barked one of the mages.
[WIND BLOW]
A ball of compressed air swirled in his hands before launching toward the fog.
The moment the orb hit the ground, it exploded with a thunderous burst—scattering the poison fog like leaves in a storm. The shockwave ripped through the clearing, throwing knights off their feet and leaving others choking, hacking, and scrambling to breathe through the fading haze.
As the smoke began to clear, the battlefield fell into a stunned silence.
The hut where the child had been moments ago was shattered. The cradle lay overturned, broken and empty. All around, unconscious knights were scattered like broken puppets—some groaning, others completely still.
But it was the faint, glowing trail of mana stretching off into the northeast that truly froze them.
It pointed directly toward Runewood.
"They got away…" one of the mages muttered, pale as a ghost.
"It seems the mage had a Waystone prepared," another mage assessed, narrowing his eyes. "Judging by the trail, they're heading toward the Landing Circle near Luwas Outpost. Beyond that is Runewood."
At the mention of Runewood, the entire company stiffened. The forest was infamous—a cursed land ruled by the savage Dark Elves. No ordinary man dared venture into their domain. After all, only few who entered ever returned.
Vandolph clenched his fists in frustration, his mind racing. A part of him regretted not siding more firmly with Robert and Marissa earlier. Had he acted sooner, perhaps the child would have been safely hidden already.
"We'll discuss your failure later," the envoy said coldly, casting a sharp glance at Vandolph before turning his focus to the task ahead.
"Prepare to pursue!" the envoy barked. "That promotion child is mine!"
His voice dripped with greed, his ambitions laid bare.
Without wasting a second, the three mages began drawing a fresh teleport circle—this one larger and slower than Marissa's because it had to carry more people. Pale runes flared to life on the ground, spiraling upward in bright coils of light that washed over the waiting soldiers.
After a minute of non-stop chanting, the envoy and his elite unit vanished into the portal, their hunt continuing with ruthless determination.
Somewhere far ahead, Rin lay quietly in Marissa's arms as they sped through a chain of interlinked teleportation circles. Though wrapped in warmth and safety for now, the danger behind them hadn't disappeared. His small chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, completely unaware of the storm still chasing at their heels.
Back at the main landing circle in the center of Luwas Outpost, the envoy and his squad blinked into existence in a brilliant flash of arcane light—only to find themselves in a scene they hadn't prepared for.
The once quiet, near-empty outpost had turned into utter chaos.
Teleportation circles flared one after another, spitting out families, workers, and townsfolk in frantic waves. It looked like the earth itself was bubbling up with people. Mothers clutched infants. Men dragged carts stuffed with their few remaining belongings. Cries and shouts filled the narrow streets, which were now packed with terrified refugees running in every direction.
The envoy's gaze swept over the chaos, his expression hardening with disbelief.
"This…" he muttered, jaw tightening. This wasn't the quiet checkpoint he had expected. It was a flood of panic—a distraction, maybe, or worse, a sign that something much larger was happening.
As he scanned the crowd more closely, realization dawned - Robert and Marissa might be hiding the baby somewhere here.
"Sir," one of the mages said as he stepped beside the envoy, his voice tight with unease, "we believe… children are being smuggled here to escape the king's purge."
The envoy's eyes narrowed sharply. All around him, men and women were clutching bundled infants to their chests, shielding their faces as they melted into the crowd—slipping down narrow alleys, disappearing into the maze of panic.
"So this is where they've been hiding them…" he growled, his hands clenched into fists. His fury built like a storm, boiling just beneath the surface.
Then, in a voice that cut through the chaos like a blade, he shouted, "This is my order! Kill every child in this place!"
A stunned silence followed, broken only by the sobs and screams of fleeing families. His soldiers looked to one another in hesitation—his command was cruel, even for them.
But the crowd didn't run. Not this time.
Instead, the townspeople grabbed farming tools, kitchen knives—anything they could turn into a weapon. Rage and desperation replaced their fear.
"You want my baby? Then come and take him, you demon!" a man shouted, sword shaking in his grip as he charged the envoy's troops.
His cry lit a fire in the hearts of the others. One by one, they stepped forward, forming a desperate wall of defiance.
And just like that, Luwas Outpost became another battlefield.
Meanwhile, beyond the outpost—away from the screams and the rising smoke—Robert and Marissa crashed through thick underbrush, the sounds of battle fading behind them. Their legs burned with exhaustion, but they didn't stop.
Robert held Rin tightly against his chest. The boy remained asleep, golden light still gently glowing from his small frame, like a candle trying to survive the wind.
"Marissa," Robert said between heavy breaths, his voice low and tight. "Where the hell are we going?"
Ahead of them, the trees grew darker—taller, older, more twisted. The path was leading them into a forest that didn't welcome visitors. It loomed like a grave of giants, cloaked in shadow, whispering of things best left undisturbed.
And yet… it was their only way forward.
It was no ordinary forest. It was the border no human dared cross.
It was Runewood—the land of the elven tribes.
Marissa didn't answer immediately. Her silence said enough.
Soon, they reached the banks of the Dragon's Tail River—a vast, raging current that howled like a living beast. The river lived up to its fearsome name; its waters churned violently, foaming and crashing against the jagged rocks like the lashes of a dragon's tail. It wasn't just the speed that made it dangerous. Whispers of old warned of hidden creatures beneath the surface… and traces of ancient magic that still lingered, waiting.
It marked the final threshold—once crossed, they would be in elven territory.
Robert paused, fear creeping into his bones. "Marissa... don't tell me. That safe place you mentioned... it's Runewood?"
Marissa nodded, finally uncorking a small mana potion. "You asked for a place where Aurelus would never find him. This is it."
She raised the flask and drank deeply, a warm glow flickering back into her eyes as the potion took effect—slowly restoring the strength she had drained from casting long-distance spells.
"Runewood?" Robert muttered with disbelief. "You do realize this place is a death sentence for humans! That river alone could drown an ogre, and the elves? They'd kill us before we speak a word!"
"And yet," Marissa said quietly, pulling out another potion and readying her wand, "we have no better choice."
She dropped to one knee and began to draw in the dirt. A quick sketch of the continent unfolded beneath her fingers—rough outlines of empires, cities, and danger zones.
"Thun-ga Desert," she pointed east, "is four weeks away, and the heat alone would kill us in hours. No shelter, no water, and nothing but sand pirates and Dwarven raiders."
Robert swallowed. He remembered the stories—dwarves who'd skin travelers alive just for their boots.
"Then west?" he asked weakly. "Tou-oh?"
She shook her head. "Frozen wastelands. And Aurelus already has men stationed there. We'd be walking into another net."
Her finger moved north. "Thaasa has been closed off for three centuries. Their border mages kill anything that breathes. Not even Aurelus can enter there."
Robert's shoulders slumped. Every option was worse than the last. Runewood, despite the horror it inspired, was the only place where Aurelus' reach ended.
"Then... Runewood it is," he muttered, resigned.
Marissa stood and turned to face the river. She held out her wand, her voice shifting into a low, ancient chant. Runes shimmered around her as she raised her arms and spoke the final command.
[ICE FIELD]
The river thundered below as the rushing water hissed and crackled, suddenly freezing into a narrow, shimmering bridge of ice that stretched unsteadily across the raging current. But the flow didn't stop—it crashed against the fragile path with relentless force, as if trying to tear it apart.
"Go! Now!" Marissa shouted, urgency clear in her voice. "This ice bridge won't hold!"
Without hesitation, she dashed onto the slick bridge, her worn boots pounding against the fragile ice as fine cracks spiderwebbed beneath each step.
Robert looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms—Rin's face peaceful, unaware of the danger surrounding them. Jaw tight, Robert muttered a curse under his breath and pushed forward.
"Damn it all—fine!"
He followed, sprinting after her. Behind him, the ice groaned as it started to fracture.
Crack.
Crack!
"Robert, MOVE!" Marissa yelled from the far side.
Robert didn't look back. He could still feel the heat of the exploding arrows, the screams of the dying, and the rumble of hooves pounding against the earth. Every instinct in him screamed that they were running straight into a new nightmare—but the nightmare behind them was far worse.
Runewood swallowed them whole. The air grew thick with silence, broken only by their ragged breathing and the crunch of leaves underfoot. The forest was alive, watching—its ancient presence heavy and unknowable.
Still clutching the boy to his chest, Robert muttered under his breath, "Just a little further… just a little more."
Marissa's hand found his again, steadying him. "We're not done yet," she said softly, eyes scanning the shadows ahead. "But we've bought time."
And for now… that was enough.
Not long after, shadows on horseback arrived at the river's edge. Cloaked in black and silent as shadows, the riders slipped off their mounts without a word. One of them knelt low, his gloved fingers brushing over the last faint glimmer of ice melting into the soil. The chill still lingered in the air, but the trail was already fading.
"They crossed," he said, voice sharp and cold. His sword still dripped with fresh blood. "Into Runewood."
"I'm not blind," the envoy snapped, his jaw clenched and trembling with rage. His fists curled at his sides—he had been seconds too late.
He had been so close. So damn close to securing his place in Aurelus' court.
He eyed the dark forest, calculating. To chase them was to invite death. Not even Aurelus' finest knights had returned from venturing into Runewood uninvited.
"Turn back," the envoy said at last, voice bitter with defeat.
"What shall we report to the king?" one knight asked cautiously.
The envoy turned his horse, spitting on the ground. "They crossed into the forest. That's as good as dead."
His words carried the weight of command—and cowardice. The knights turned as one, the hunt called off.
For now.
As the echoes of retreating hooves faded into the distance, silence reclaimed the forest—deep, ancient, and watchful.
In that hush, Rin remained fast asleep in Robert's arms, his small chest rising and falling with gentle rhythm. Peaceful, unaware, and untouched by the violence that had nearly stolen him away.