The sensation of warmth enveloped him as Arthur slowly opened his eyes. The sterile white ceiling came into focus, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, his breath was steady, his body no longer trembling.
But something had changed. No—everything had changed.
His muscles thrummed with latent energy, his skin tingled as if crackling embers coursed just beneath his flesh, and most importantly, his soul—
It was different.
It felt denser, stronger, as if reforged in the crucible of the trials. The familiar hum of elemental energy now resonated harmoniously within him, each element—fire, water, wind, and earth—interwoven like the threads of his own being.
Before he could fully grasp his rebirth, an agony like no other exploded inside his head.
"AAARGHHH!"
His fingers clawed at his scalp as if he could tear the pain out. His vision blurred, his body convulsed, and the overwhelming sensation of his mind fracturing consumed him.
Then—
The memories began.
A cascade of images he had never lived.
A sky fractured like shattered glass.
A figure falling from above, a man whose face was veiled by shadows, clutching something—a seed radiating with a power beyond comprehension.
Beneath him, the very fabric of space crumbled like fragile parchment, and the abyss itself swallowed him whole, leaving no trace.
Through these foreign eyes—these ancient, unknown eyes—Arthur watched it unfold.
A voice—deep, timeless—echoed through his soul:
"When the sky breaks and the laws collapse, I shall return."
The vision shattered, and Arthur collapsed backward, panting heavily as the headache finally subsided. Sweat dripped from his brow, his body trembling.
The door to his room burst open.
"Asrial!"
Therisia's voice cracked with relief and desperation. Without hesitation, she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms as tears streamed down her cheeks. He winced at the impact but found himself smiling softly as he hugged her back.
Leonhard followed, a mix of stern composure and unfiltered joy softening his expression. He approached but swiftly pulled Therisia away with a father's protective instinct.
"Give him space," Leonhard said, though his own voice trembled.
Therisia reluctantly let go but remained at his side, her hand never leaving his.
Leonhard sat near the bed. His gaze lingered on Asrial for a long moment before finally speaking.
"You've exceeded my every expectation, Arthur—no, Asrial."
Asrial blinked, the weight of his name settling in his chest like an ancient mantle finally reclaimed.
"You survived the impossible. You faced a bishop of the Church and returned alive... with invaluable information."
Leonhard leaned forward, his eyes serious now.
"Tell me everything."
And so Asrial recounted it all—the black wolf, the shadow beast, the shadow king's cruel manipulation, and the mention of relics powerful enough to warp the very rules of the world.
Leonhard listened without interruption, his jaw tightening as the web of the Church's influence began to take clearer shape.
"This proves the bishops are real," Leonhard muttered. "For years, I doubted their existence. I thought they were legends—ghosts whispered by survivors. But now... it's undeniable."
He straightened, crossing his arms.
"In ten days, both of you will travel to the Academy in the capital. You will take the entrance exam and begin your next chapter there."
Therisia's face lit up with excitement, but Asrial remained composed, his gaze steady.
Leonhard's tone darkened. "Don't be fooled. The Academy is not a place of safety. It is a battlefield. A place where noble factions collide, where politics are sharper than blades. You'll be caught in power struggles, and enemies will come dressed as allies."
Asrial met his gaze without hesitation. "We're ready."
Leonhard's lips curved into a faint, prideful smile. "You've grown stronger, but remember—strength alone won't save you there."
In a distant city—the gleaming capital where the Academy towered—
Inside a grand estate, a young noblewoman with flowing white hair and golden eyes sat gracefully as her personal knight finished tending to her hair.
"You always do such a wonderful job, Yuu," she whispered, her voice soft like silk.
The young man with dark hair, streaked faintly with blue, knelt before her. His ceremonial armor shimmered under the sunlight filtering through the ornate windows. "I live to serve you, my lady."
He lifted her hand, pressing his lips against her knuckles with reverence.
"You are the pride of the Priest family," he said. "It is my greatest honor to protect you."
Her smile was radiant, but as her golden eyes briefly flickered to a glowing shade of sinister purple, her true nature surfaced for a moment.
"My twilight sword, Yuu... you will always be by my side, won't you?"
"Until the end," he whispered.
And somewhere deep within her smile, Castorice quietly tightened her grip on her perfect vessel.
The game had just begun.