Crown Prince Manor, Imperial City
The banquet hall glowed warmly under rows of golden lanterns. Their light danced across polished jade tables and half-empty wine cups, while soft music played in the background. On the surface, it was an elegant gathering of nobles exchanging pleasantries. Beneath it, ambitions sharper than any blade stirred quietly.
At the center sat Crown Prince Darius Phoenix. His smile was perfectly composed, but it never quite reached his eyes.
Although no official announcement had been made, every powerful noble already knew the Emperor's health had been declining for over a year. It typically meant: the real struggle for the throne had already begun.
Tonight's banquet wasn't truly about celebration. It was about forging alliances.
Among the guests sat Theron Mist, head of House Mist and Minister of Revenue. While House Mist controlled taxation and the empire's treasury, House Silver oversaw the Ministry of Public Works—roads, waterways, granaries, and construction. In theory, money should outweigh infrastructure.
In reality, however, Wester Silver's maternal cousin commanded the Imperial Army. Steel often spoke louder than coins in the imperial court.
This had allowed House Silver to slowly gain the upper hand, forcing House Mist into constant opposition. Their rivalry had lasted decades.
But recently, a new threat had emerged.
Francis Vale, Minister of Law and Justice, had arranged the engagement of his eldest daughter, Sienna Vale, to Arceus Silver. If House Silver and House Vale united, their combined influence over public works and law would become formidable.
And those houses don't support the Crown Prince, which is a massive concern for Darius Phoenix.
A servant approached Darius quietly and knelt beside him, offering a folded note.
Darius read it in silence. The corners of his lips curved upward ever so slightly.
"Your Highness?" Theron asked carefully. "Has something happened?"
Darius folded the note and set it beside his wine cup. "Nothing worth troubling our guests tonight." His tone stayed light, almost casual. "Lord Theron… remain after everyone leaves. There's something we should discuss."
Theron studied that smile. It wasn't mere satisfaction. It was opportunity.
One by one, the guests excused themselves until only the Crown Prince and the Minister of Revenue remained in the grand hall.
Darius leaned back comfortably in his seat. "My third brother intends to leave the Imperial City next week. He plans to visit Bloodhill Forest."
Theron's eyes narrowed.
"He won't be going alone, though. Three more are joining him," Darius continued, pouring himself another cup of wine. "Arceus Silver. Sienna Vale. And… Lucian Storm."
That last name immediately caught Theron's full attention. House Storm controlled appointments in the Ministry of Personnel. Winning their favor meant influencing countless future officials across the empire.
"My foolish brother," Darius said with a faint smile, "believes a shared adventure will win Lucian's loyalty. He can gain his friendship but not House Storm's loyalty."
Theron lowered his head slightly. "And Your Highness?"
Darius swirled the wine in his cup. "The Nyx Guild has already accepted a commission." He glanced up at the flickering lanterns. "What happens afterward… will depend on fate."
Silence settled between them.
Theron understood perfectly. He didn't need further explanation. For over a year, House Mist had been searching for a way to weaken the growing alliance around House Silver and House Vale.
Perhaps fate had finally given them one.
Theron bowed deeply. "House Mist will provide whatever assistance Your Highness requires."
A satisfied smile finally touched Darius's face. "Excellent."
---
One Week Later
A party of ten made their way through the vast wilderness known as Bloodhill Forest.
Spanning over fifteen million square kilometers along the northern frontier, Bloodhill served as a natural barrier between the Phoenix Empire and the powerful Leon Empire beyond. Few armies dared cross its endless jungles. Eight-star beasts roamed its depths. Werewolves hunted beneath the thick canopies. Enormous herds of wild boars charged without warning, and giant bears defended their territory fiercely. Even the trees themselves could be deadly.
Only the skies offered relative safety—and even that was never guaranteed.
Yet adventurers entered Bloodhill daily. Ether crystals hidden in its soil accelerated cultivation. Monster corpses provided valuable materials for weapons, pills, and armor. Danger and profit walked hand in hand.
Officially, today's expedition was for hunting.
In reality, everyone had their own motives.
Prince Kaelan Phoenix hoped to earn Lucian Storm's friendship. Lucian intended to observe the Third Prince rather than trust him. Sienna had come to accompany her fiancé. And Arceus…
Arceus was simply looking forward to an enjoyable hunt.
Hidden securely beneath his cloak was a familiar wooden case containing the pistol he had bought from Nexus. He didn't expect to need it. Still, having it with him felt strangely reassuring.
Four soldiers in Gold-grade armor led the way, each possessing at least four-star cultivation. Prince Kaelan walked just behind them. Arceus stayed near the center with his two maids, Sienna at his side. Lucian Storm walked a few paces away, his expression calm but guarded.
Hours passed. The group eventually crossed into Sector Eight. The vegetation grew thicker, and occasional monster roars echoed through the trees.
Later that afternoon, Kaelan raised his hand. "We'll rest here."
The soldiers quickly secured the area and set up a temporary campsite. Kaelan spread a map across a flat stone.
"If my calculations are correct," he said, tracing a spot with his finger, "we'll arrive here before sunset."
Lucian leaned forward, his brows furrowing. "Festhorn? I thought we were heading toward Nurwhir."
The surrounding forest suddenly felt unusually quiet. Only the faint rustling of leaves broke the silence.
Lucian's gaze lingered on Prince Kaelan. If not for the five-star assassin secretly following on his father's orders, he would never have agreed to this trip. His trust in the Third Prince had always been paper-thin.
Instead of hiding his suspicion, he voiced it directly. "Why Festhorn? We planned to hunt in Nurwhir."
Kaelan chuckled softly and folded the map without concern. "We will. After I finish a small matter here."
"Business?" Sienna asked, exchanging a quick glance with Arceus. Even his two maids tilted their heads curiously.
---
Festhorn was far from a treasure-rich area. It offered few Ether crystals and little profit. Only hunters chasing wild boars and warthogs usually ventured this far off the more rewarding routes.
Prince Kaelan felt the weight of everyone's stares and responded with a practiced, mysterious smile.
"You'll understand once we arrive, Lucian," he said smoothly. "Trust me and follow."
Lucian studied him for a long moment before giving a small, indifferent shrug. "Very well. I hope you're not wasting my time, Your Highness."
After a short rest, the group continued deeper into Sector Eight. The foliage grew thicker, and sunlight broke through the layered canopies in scattered golden beams. The air carried the rich, damp scent of soil and distant beasts.
A sudden rustling came from the brush ahead.
Two warthogs burst out of the undergrowth, coarse bristles raised, tusks gleaming as they charged straight at the party.
The soldiers stepped forward instinctively, weapons raised.
"Stand aside," Prince Kaelan ordered, lifting his hand.
The soldiers obeyed at once.
"Fireball."
A blazing orb of flame bloomed in his palm, Ether condensing into a sphere the size of a cannonball. Heat rippled outward as he hurled it at the first beast.
The explosion slammed into the warthog, hurling it backward into a tree. Bark splintered. Smoke curled upward.
The second warthog kept charging, undeterred.
"Hmph. Livestock," Kaelan muttered, already gathering another, even larger fireball.
Before the spell could fully form, a figure flashed past him.
Lucian moved like a drawn blade—swift, decisive, and deadly. His sword came down in one clean arc, splitting the charging warthog from skull to spine. The two halves fell apart before they could reach him.
The first warthog, dazed but still alive, staggered to its feet. It caught the scent of death and tried to flee.
Lucian was already there.
One smooth step closed the distance. A second precise strike ended its life.
He sheathed his sword and returned to the group as casually as if he had simply brushed away some fallen leaves.
Arceus's eyes lit up with genuine admiration. "That was incredible, Luce."
"Indeed," Sienna Vale agreed, nodding gracefully. "The title of genius swordsman isn't undeserved."
Though her voice stayed composed, her fingers tightened slightly around her fan. Both she and Lucian were three-star cultivators, yet the gap in combat instinct felt painfully clear.
Prince Kaelan let the flames in his palm dissipate. "You are swift."
"You were slow, Your Highness," Lucian replied flatly, falling back into step beside Arceus.
Kaelan forced a faint smile, refusing to take offense. "I walk the mage's path, Lucian. Precision takes time."
His destructive power was greater than most warriors present, but mages had their limits. The stronger the spell, the longer the casting time and the heavier the Ether drain.
They continued onward.
More beasts appeared throughout the afternoon—mostly two-star wild boars drawn by the scent of blood. Each encounter ended quickly under Lucian's blade before anyone else could act.
Strangely, Prince Kaelan showed no irritation. If anything, his admiration for Lucian only seemed to grow.
By dusk, the trees began to thin. The group emerged into a clearing filled with crumbling stone structures half-swallowed by vines and moss. Broken statues lay scattered across the ground, their faces worn away by centuries of rain and wind. Fractured buildings stood in silent decay—the remnants of a long-forgotten settlement.
Sienna unfolded her fan thoughtfully. "I've heard that during the Arcana Dynasty, criminals and political dissenters were exiled to these forests, back when the southern lands still answered to Emperor Aerondor Arcana."
Kaelan inclined his head.
Lucian glanced around at the ruins, his expression thoughtful. "The last emperor of the Arcana Dynasty was infamous for a reason, Miss Vale. Aerondor Arcana indulged in every excess without restraint. His reign was soaked in decadence and cruelty."
Arceus listened quietly, intrigued.
Lucian continued, his voice steady. "He treated commoners like disposable tools. Disobedience meant execution. Nobles who displeased him faced imprisonment or exile here. Vassal kings who resisted were crushed without mercy."
"We all know the history," Sienna added. "It took Andre Phoenix twenty years to gather enough support. With the help of six great houses, he overthrew Aerondor and founded the Phoenix Empire, bringing order back to the land."
Lucian nodded. "The settlements formed by those exiles lasted until Emperor Andre abolished the practice. The survivors eventually returned south."
Prince Kaelan smiled faintly. "History only records the surface, my friends. Not all truths were meant for public ears."
He reached into his robes and withdrew a parchment made from aged, unfamiliar hide. Its texture looked unnaturally well-preserved.
"My servant found this in a nearby cave," Kaelan explained. "It was clutched in the skeletal hands of its former owner."
Interest sharpened across the group.
"A relic from before the Era of Ether?" Arceus asked quietly.
"Dated eighteen centuries before the Era," Kaelan confirmed.
Before anyone could examine it closely, he slipped the parchment back into his sleeve.
"According to this document, scarlet crystals were discovered here long before Ether crystals were officially known. Those who touched them absorbed their energy… and died."
A heavy silence fell over the clearing.
Even the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.
Lucian's brows furrowed. "You're suggesting those were Ether crystals?"
Kaelan nodded slowly. "Yes."
"That contradicts everything in recorded history," Sienna said, frowning deeply. "The first spirit warrior only appeared 1,786 years ago, marking the start of the Era of Ether. How could that be possible?"
Kaelan shrugged lightly. "Perhaps discovery came before understanding."
Arceus looked around at the vine-covered ruins. "What does this have to do with this place, Your Highness?"
Kaelan's smile deepened, laced with intrigue. "This clearing," he said quietly, "was Emperor Aerondor Arcana's final refuge. He died here of old age."
Shock rippled through the group.
"What?"
"The hideout of Emperor Aerondor Arcana?"