Night thickened over Asterion, deep and heavy, as if the sky itself was holding its breath.
On the mountain overlooking the capital, Rion Kaze and the masked figure still stood side by side — two silhouettes framed against the moonlit horizon.
Below them, the kingdom glowed under layers of mist and lamplight.
And around the entire capital…
A giant dome of translucent spiritual light pulsed slowly, breathing like a living thing.
A sense-formation barrier, woven by the royal formation masters, designed to detect any new spiritual presence entering its range.
No expert could slip through unnoticed.
Not even a mouse carrying chaos.
Rion whistled softly. "Well… that's new."
Beside him, the masked figure lifted one gloved hand and simply pointed toward the dome.
He didn't speak.
He didn't move.
He just pointed.
Rion sighed. "Don't look at me like that. We have permission to enter."
The masked figure turned his head slightly.
A stare — silent, cold, unreadable — pressed down on Rion like a falling boulder.
"…Fine," Rion muttered, rubbing his face, "yes, technically I have permission. You're… a walking natural disaster. A whole different category."
Lightning flickered faintly across the metal bands on the masked man's arms in response.
Then, without warning, the figure dropped to the ground, sitting cross-legged.
Rion blinked. "Uh—are we meditating now?"
The man finally spoke.
A low, mild tone. Almost gentle. But the words carried weight that made the wind itself pause.
"My spiritual presence will cause panic."
Rion stared.
Right.
This was the truth.
If that… thing… walked straight into the dome, every formation in the capital would scream bloody murder. And half the royal guards would faint before the alarm even finished ringing.
"So you want me to go first?"
The masked figure didn't answer.
He just kept staring.
Rion threw his hands up. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. Babysitter duties."
He climbed back onto the giant spirit bird, muttering curses under his breath.
"You better buy me food after this."
The masked figure didn't react.
Not a nod.
Not a breath.
Rion groaned.
"—Fine, I'll pay. Happy?!"
The masked figure remained utterly still, like an ancient statue carved from midnight.
Rion shuddered and pulled the bird into the sky.
As he flew toward the glowing dome, he glanced back only once.
The masked figure sat there, posture perfect, lightning gathering subtly around him like he was part of a storm that had forgotten to leave.
Rion whispered:
"…This mission is going to kill me."
And then he passed into the clouds.
Beneath the capital, far below the glittering night and the peaceful lamps, a meeting took place in absolute darkness.
A stone chamber.
A single lantern.
A dozen cloaked men kneeling before a long table.
The leader sat unmoving.
Cold.
Silent.
These were the elites of the East Faction, loyal to the Third Prince Makhail — and among them were disciples from the Black Sword Sect, blades sharper than truth and twice as deadly.
The air buzzed with tension.
The banquet was days away.
Their plan was already set.
Until—
A messenger flickered into existence, Qi bending around him like smoke.
He knelt and handed over a sealed scroll.
The leader cracked it open.
Read.
Stopped.
Read again.
His gloved fingers tightened.
"…Change of plans," he murmured.
Every cloaked head lifted.
"The Black Sword Sect has issued a new directive."
Silence deepened.
The leader's shadow grew darker against the lantern flame.
"Our mission—"
His voice turned to steel.
"—is now to kill every Asterion noble attending the banquet."
A pulse of killing intent rippled outward, shaking the lantern flame.
So the banquet… would become the place where bloodlines ended.
Back at the Valen mansion, in the moonlit garden, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Crystal sat on a stone bench, legs crossed elegantly, watching Lyra.
Staring, really.
With far too much calm.
Lyra shifted uncomfortably under the focused emerald gaze.
"…Why are you smiling at me like that?"
Crystal didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
She simply tilted her head, her expression soft but… wrong.
A smile of someone who had lived a lifetime already.
A smile that knew too much.
Lyra's shoulders tensed.
Crystal finally shrugged lightly, as if Lyra's discomfort didn't matter.
"Well," Crystal said sweetly, "I need your help with the upcoming banquet."
Lyra blinked.
Of all things, that was not what she expected.
"My help? Why? You have an entire mansion filled with people."
"Yes," Crystal said, still smiling, "but it's you I need."
Lyra frowned. "I don't understand."
Crystal's smile widened.
Just a little.
Enough to make Lyra step back instinctively.
"No," Crystal said softly, "I don't need just help. I need you."
Lyra felt her throat tighten.
The night air suddenly seemed colder.
"And in return…" Crystal continued, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"I will heal your chaos center."
Crack.
Lyra's teacup slipped from her fingers.
Porcelain shattered against the stone floor.
The words echoed in her mind like a hammer.
Heal.
Your.
Chaos.
Center.
Her eyes widened.
Her heartbeat stopped.
Her entire life had been defined by that flaw — her missing chaos world, her broken center, her incomplete being.
People pitied her.
Mocked her.
Dismissed her.
Even her stepmother wanted her dead.
And now… Crystal said she would fix it?
Lyra's lips parted.
Her voice trembled.
"You… you can't be serious."
Crystal only smiled.
The kind of smile that said:
I don't lie.
I don't bargain lightly.
And I always get what I want.
Lyra trembled, her knees almost buckling.
She didn't know it yet.
Didn't know who she was speaking to now.
Didn't know that the girl before her—
this calm, smiling girl—
was the one who had once been called:
The General of Death.
And this time…
Crystal had chosen her.
The moonlight spilled across the garden, turning the two girls into silhouettes within a silver dream.
A moment frozen in fate.
One offering salvation.
One on the brink of despair.
Lyra swallowed hard.
And Crystal's smile deepened.
The game had begun.
Meanwhile known to the people in the room miralyn Valen saw the exchange but unknow to her is what she saw was just an illusion the same trick Crystal had learned for noah in her past life