The moment Estelle's fingers touched the fissure in the black box's base, a familiar chill crawled up his spine – the unmistakable scent of Imaginary Decay, unique to an Emanator of Destruction, a smell he'd encountered on countless worlds devoured by the Antimatter Legion.
Inside the crack, the dark gold Stellaron pulsed slowly.
Each contraction spewed motes of destructive energy, crystallizing into fleeting black ash in the air.
Why was an Emanator's aura here? Did they plant this Stellaron? Or was the Aeon Idrilla's fall itself tied to the Antimatter Legion? Questions churned in Estelle's mind.
"Don't act rashly…" Estelle gritted his teeth.
Until he understood the full story, he wouldn't tamper with the seal.
He turned to leave, but a faint click echoed behind him.
The Stellaron's pulse quickened. A thread-fine strand of crimson light, almost alive, seeped from the dark gold glow, slithering silently along the floor cracks towards his boot.
Estelle's heart clenched. In a flash, his sword swept behind him, severing the tendril of energy.
"Restless little thing," Estelle muttered, eyeing the Stellaron, his wariness deepening.
His attention shifted to the altar stones. He scraped the surface with his scabbard. The exposed rock bore weathering patterns etched over a century.
These grey veins took at least a hundred years to erode so deeply.
Yet the Chief and Luna were adamant: the Knights of Beauty arrived barely over a decade ago.
"The timeline doesn't match…" Estelle traced the silver armor in the mural, his fingers freezing.
"Kay, Elara, Ryan… they vanished over a century ago."
Suddenly, he remembered the energy signature on Luna's earring – faint, but bearing the distinct mark of deliberate tampering.
Their memories were rewritten.
"What happened in these blank decades?"
A frown creased Estelle's brow.
His sharp senses screamed that he'd walked into a carefully laid trap. He cast one last look at the seething Stellaron within the fissure and strode swiftly out of the altar.
"Mmm…" Luna stretched lazily on her wooden bed.
Sunlight streamed through the window, dusting her face, her eyelashes still flecked with Stellaron Lily petals. She threw off the covers and sprang off the bed, stumbling over the threshold as her feet hit the floor. She caught herself against the wall – showing none of the frailty expected after a "divine miracle."
"Slow down!" Doctor Kava entered with a steaming bowl, shaking his head helplessly at her vigor.
"I told you to rest more."
He set the bowl on the table.
Inside, a decoction of Stellaron Lily roots bubbled with faint purple foam. "Your pulse is steady. Seems Aeon Idrillatruly favors you."
Luna stuck out her tongue, downed the bitter brew in one go, and wrinkled her nose. "See, Uncle Kava? Told you I'm fine."
She moved to the window. Below, the Old Chief directed men repairing a wind-damaged fence. Dried StellaronLilies swayed on the wall, releasing their sweet scent.
"Luna's awake?" The Chief called up, waving a hammer, wood shavings clinging to his beard. "Come see! Anvil's turned your fence into a fortress!"
Nearby, the burly blacksmith known as "Anvil" swung his axe to split logs. The village's strongest man was being egged on by a gaggle of children.
"Uncle Anvil! Was Sister Luna chosen by Aeon Idrilla?" a pigtailed girl shouted, waving a flower crown, sparking laughter.
"Miss Luna seems to have recovered well," Estelle observed from the courtyard gate. His silver armor gleamed coldly in the sun, stark against the village's warm hues.
He held a small pouch of dried roses retrieved from his starship – his only available "gift."
Luna smiled, accepting the pouch. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Estelle. I feel great!" She gestured to freshly baked Stellaron Lily cakes on the table.
"Try one? Grandpa Kava says they soothe the nerves."
As they spoke, the Old Chief pushed inside, still clutching half a cake. "Mr. Estelle, I was looking for you." He wiped his beard, expression serious.
"The village talked it over. You saved Luna, and you're connected to those past sky-farers. If you'd accept, we'd be honored if you stayed awhile? Help us understand this… 'miracle'."
Estelle considered. Staying facilitated investigating the Stellaron and the Beauty shard while keeping watch on Luna – he sensed she held a key piece. "I accept."
Over the following days, the Chief guided Estelle through Wangshu Village.
At the tavern, Anvil, drinking with hunters, bellowed, "Sky-faring knight! Join us for a bowl?"
Beneath the ancient village tree, Granny Moon – the Stellaron Lily knitter – wove flower crowns on her rattan chair. Spotting them, she offered a fresh lily with a smile.
Doctor Kava's clinic bustled with villagers seeking remedies and children begging for old tales. His herb garden held glowing lunar grass, often pilfered by kids for makeshift lanterns.
Villagers' wariness towards Estelle softened into curiosity. When he pointed to children wrestling in the mud and proposed a schoolhouse, everyone froze.
"Teach them reading, numbers, basic self-defense," Estelle said, watching the playful chase. The crack in his Polaris Mirror Shield throbbed faintly. "At least give them a fighting chance if danger comes."
The Old Chief was first to agree. "Brilliant! I'll have trees felled for desks!"
Anvil hauled sturdy logs instantly. Granny Moon donated her dried Stellaron Lilies for classroom flooring. Doctor Kava volunteered to teach herb lore.
The modest schoolhouse rose in just five days.
Once cleared by Doctor Kava, Luna threw herself into construction, hauling stones and passing nails.
"That girl's been tireless since she could walk," Granny Moon told Estelle, handing Luna water. "Never shirked village work. When pests hit the lily fields last year, she led the girls picking them off for three days straight."
The finished school was simple: one log-walled classroom and a packed-earth yard.
Inside, thirty wooden desks stood neat. Estelle's arithmetic chart hung on the wall, fresh Stellaron Lilies brightening a corner.
Outside, three straw dummies stood ready. Polished wooden practice swords leaned against the wall.
Estelle stood at the classroom door, watching children cheer in the yard. Luna and Anvil finished wrapping straw around a dummy.
As Luna secured the last strand, she suddenly bent forward, clutching her stomach.
"Unwell?" Estelle asked, concerned.
"It's nothing," she straightened, forcing a smile, her fingers brushing her lower abdomen. "Just a stitch, maybe."
Sunlight dappled her face, gilding her downy skin.
No one noticed the flicker of confusion in her eyes.
Leaned against the wall, the Polaris Mirror Shield reflected the serene scene.
Yet, within its crack, a crimson thread had silently crept onto the shield's rim.