The colossal door, made of aura-fused wood, loomed ahead. Its grain glowed faintly as two guards looked out and began to pull it open.
One of them, clad in ornate silver armor, stood just beyond the threshold, motioning silently for Renzo to enter.
He stepped inside as the massive door closed shut behind him. The guard gave him a slow once-over, then sighed beneath his helmet and shook his head.
"I can't believe Her Highness has allowed you two in here so many times... within such a short span. Why? I don't know. But behave yourself—or I'll make sure you die here personally."
Without another word, the guard turned down the corridor. Renzo jogged after him, heart pounding, until they reached the throne room.
Nervous sweat clung to his brow, his mind a storm of emotions.
'Calm down… this is for his own sake.'
He breathed in and out slowly, again and again, trying to steady himself.
As he approached the throne, he dropped into a bow and exhaled deeply.
Selene tilted her head slightly, watching him from her seat atop the polished marble dais.
"What is it you seek this time? Your brother has already returned my key," she said with a note of boredom, though her golden eyes remained sharp.
Renzo swallowed hard and lifted his gaze. Instantly, the guards around the throne began to unsheathe their swords.
Selene raised a hand. The sound of steel paused mid-draw, but the guards remained tense, their weapons half-bared.
"You seem… troubled. Nervous. Anxious," she said, her voice cool. "Spit it out. I have little patience today."
Light from the vaulted ceiling above cast a radiant glow on her silver hair and gleaming eyes.
Renzo took a breath and spoke, voice low but steady.
"Your Highness… I have things to confess. And I'm prepared to accept punishment, whatever it may be."
Selene leaned forward, strands of her silver hair slipping past her ears as her interest piqued.
"... This is what, exactly?" she asked, her tone calm but laced with quiet intensity.
Renzo hesitated. His mouth went dry. He licked his lips and forced the words out.
"My brother has lied to you... He's stolen from your archives. He's killed... and he's tortured someone for information..."
A hush fell over the throne room.
Selene didn't blink. Her posture remained composed, but the air around her shifted. The aura she gave off—controlled and elegant—began to pulse with something far colder beneath.
"...Go on," she said softly, her voice like velvet over glass.
Renzo clenched his fists. "He found something in the records. A strange book."
Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of book?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but it seemed to belong to a cult—people who tried to resurrect a god. There were notes, and mentioned an enchanter named 'Ano,' I believe. It talked about a method of... using someone else's Seal through a kind of surgical procedure. It also mentioned something called 'The God Sleeps in Black.' There were other details, but those stood out. We're from Ovaris, in Pluvialis. And... he drowned two people who ambushed us when we first landed on this continent."
Selene leaned back in her throne slowly, one leg crossing over the other as her fingers tapped gently on the armrest. The light that fell across her face seemed sharper now, colder.
"The God Sleeps in Black," she repeated, her voice thoughtful yet laced with a shadow of concern. "I've never heard of that..."
She studied him for a moment longer. Then, she stood.
"You've done something that may change everything for your brother from this day forward," Selene said, descending the steps of the throne. "I doubt he'll ever forgive you for such a thing… but thank you for reporting this to me."
Her guards tensed as she approached Renzo, each ready to strike at a single command.
She stopped just in front of him, her golden eyes fixed on his. "If even half of what you've said is true, your brother will be sentenced for life."
She paused, her gaze narrowing. "Do you know where he's staying?"
Renzo gave a slow nod. "Yes, Your Highness. I know exactly where."
Selene turned slightly, not taking her eyes off him. "Guards. Go with him. Find Zay Yuso from Ovaris and capture him—alive, if possible. Bring that book back to me… no matter what."
Renzo and thirty of the guards lining the throne room followed closely behind as they left the castle, their boots echoing against the marble floor. They descended the grand staircase in tense silence.
The guards all had their hands resting on their weapons, fingers twitching with anticipation—like they'd been itching for an excuse to spill blood.
Renzo swallowed hard, trying to keep his nerves in check. "Where's the Nine Tides Tavern?" he asked, his voice low.
One of the guards, a tall man with a jagged scar across his cheek, without a helmet glanced at him. "South end of the market district. Corner of Lantern Row. Can't miss it."
As they made their way through the rain-soaked streets of Ruvy, their footsteps echoed with every step. The city glistened beneath the soft drizzle, its stone roads slick with water. After about five minutes of walking, they arrived at their destination.
Renzo turned to the group and spoke quietly, "I'll give the signal—a fist above my head with both my pinky and index fingers extended. That's when you come in."
The guards nodded in unison, understanding the plan. To avoid drawing suspicion, only one guard remained directly outside, standing casually near the entrance. He glanced around every so often, blending in perfectly with the other city guards on patrol, as if simply doing his job.
Renzo walked into the tavern and immediately spotted Zay sitting at a corner table—with someone else beside him. Their eyes locked onto Renzo as he approached and took a seat with them.
"So, who's this?" Renzo asked, glancing between the two.
The man beside Zay smiled. He was dressed in light emerald-green robes with a forest-green cape draped over his shoulders. His dark brown hair fell just past them.
"The name's Zakariah Fay. And you?"
Renzo returned the smile. "Renzo."
"Nice to meet you, Renzo!" Zakariah said, a little too cheerfully. But then his gaze shifted toward the window. His eyes landed on the lone guard standing outside. Slowly, he closed his eyes and tilted his head, sniffing the air. While it looked like he was taking in the smell of warm food but he was smelling the air for aura.
Zakariah swallowed hard.
"Well… it's about time I got going," he said, rising from the table a little too quickly. "Got some planning to do. Good seeing you both, though!"
He turned and walked away—but the moment his back was to them, his smile vanished completely. Without a word, he slipped around the corner, headed for the back door, and broke into a sprint as soon as he was outside.
As Zakariah disappeared through the back, Renzo leaned in slightly, his voice low.
"What room are we staying in?"
Zay didn't answer. He was watching Renzo now, really watching. He raised an eyebrow, then gave a small chuckle as he leaned back in his seat.
"Why are you sweating so much?" he asked casually. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Renzo tried to laugh it off, but the beads of sweat on his brow betrayed him. Zay didn't expect much from the question—he didn't suspect anything serious. But something in the air was off.
Still, Zay's tone stayed light. "Relax. It's just rain out there, not a battlefield."
Renzo chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Zay's words.
Zay stretched his arms slightly before finally answering. "We're staying in Room 4, second floor. I was just about to head up and meditate for a bit anyway."
Renzo nodded, his throat tight. "Sounds good. Let's go."
The two stood from the table, and as they moved toward the stairs, Renzo discreetly raised his hand—forming a fist with his pinky and index fingers extended.
The guard stationed outside saw the signal and passed it along subtly. Within seconds, the rest of the guards moved into position.
As the brothers ascended the stairs, the tavern's door creaked open and thirty guards filed in slowly, their presence quiet but menacing. The room erupted in confusion as patrons turned to look—voices rising—but the moment the guards drew their swords, silence fell like a hammer.
Zay froze halfway up the stairs, glancing back. His brow furrowed.
"What's happening?"
Renzo exhaled shakily, eyes wide.
"I… I'm not sure," he lied.
Zay sighed and shook his head. "Probably just another bar fight."
He didn't think much of it and continued up the stairs, Renzo following close behind. They reached the top, entering a narrow hallway dimly lit by flickering lanterns. The sound of distant thunder rumbled outside as the rain continued to patter against the windows.
Behind them, the guards followed slowly, maintaining just enough distance to stay out of view but close enough to hear every step and word.
"Ah, Room 4. Here it is!" Renzo said, stopping in front of the door and pointing to it.
Zay had walked a few steps past, but he turned back with a grin. "Thanks for that, man. You're amazing, bro."
He clapped Renzo on the shoulder before unlocking the door and stepping inside casually.
"Finally… time to breathe," Zay muttered as he disappeared into the room.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Moments later, the sound of boots on the wooden floor creaked outside. The lead guard gave a subtle hand signal.
Without a word, all thirty guards approached the door in silence. They moved like a single shadow, surrounding Room 4 with a practiced formation.
Inside, Zay stood by the window, arms crossed as he stared at the rain dripping down the glass. The city looked quiet, calm—even peaceful.
Behind him, Renzo lingered by the wall, shifting his weight with unease. Guilt was written all over his face. He opened his mouth, trying to summon the courage to speak—
The door exploded off its hinges before a single word could escape.
It crashed to the ground with a deafening bang as armed guards poured into the room, swords drawn and eyes locked onto their target.
Zay whirled around, his heart hammering in his chest.
'What the hell? How the fuck... no—why the fuck are guards here?!'
His hand shot toward his waist, instinct taking over. But when his fingers met empty fabric—no dagger—his eyes went wide with disbelief.
Panic surged up his spine.
"RENZO! WE GOTTA GO!" he yelled, chest heaving.
But Renzo… didn't move.
He stood behind the wall of guards, separated from Zay by a sea of silver blades. His head was down. Shoulders trembling.
Zay's breath caught.
His knees nearly buckled.
'No. No, he didn't.'
The sting hit him harder than any blade could. A pressure in his chest. His heart, pounding like a war drum. Blood raced through his veins so fast he could hear it in his ears. His entire body twitched.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Biting down on his bottom lip, he tasted blood. It spilled down his chin, dripping onto the wooden floor beneath him.
"W-what the hell… is this?"
Zay's voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. His arms trembled, fingers twitching at his sides. He took a step back, his breath shallow and erratic, chest rising and falling like he'd been struck in the gut.
His eyes darted from helmet to helmet—swords raised, expressions cold—then locked onto the one person he thought would never betray him.
Renzo.
The room was silent, heavy. The kind of silence that came just before a storm destroyed everything in its path.
Zay's gloved hands clenched tight, his knuckles going pale underneath his gloves as the surge hit him. Aura flared from his body like a scream held in too long—violent, raw, and blinding. A wave of violet energy erupted outward, rattling the wooden walls and making the guards flinch slightly.
But none stepped back.
They kept closing in, inch by inch.