Morning stretched as the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden glow across the Sunlight Capital. As always, its brilliance illuminated every rooftop, every spire, every marble street.
Even though the day was still young, the capital was already in uproar. Townsfolk bustled about, filling the streets with the sounds of laughter, gossip, and clattering stalls. Colorful fabrics were strung between buildings, and carts stacked high with goods trundled past as preparations for the Blood Moon Festival continued in full force. The festival came only once every thirty-five days, and tonight, under the crimson light, the city would celebrate.
"Look!" a child cried, pointing.
Heads turned. Murmurs spread like wildfire as the crowd's eyes widened. Down the wide avenue, the entirety of the Ophiuchus Knight Corps marched in formation, their polished armor gleaming like fire in the sunlight. At the forefront rode Arden, Saint Knight of Ophiuchus, his presence commanding the attention of all.
The people erupted in cheers, waving and calling out. Many knights raised their hands in acknowledgment, basking in the grandeur of the moment. Yet Arden's eyes never strayed to the crowd. His gaze was locked firmly on the Imperial Palace in the distance.
Inside that palace, chaos reigned. Servants dashed frantically through corridors, carrying linens, trays, and scrolls. The air was thick with clattering footsteps and hushed commands. Yet amidst this frenzy, there was one corridor no servant dared approach—the corridor leading to the Emperor's chambers.
Down that forbidden hall, a young maid walked alone. She looked no older than her early twenties, her steps trembling though she tried to appear composed. Her name was whispered before she even reached the massive door.
"This might be bad…"
"Poor soul."
"Hopefully His Majesty doesn't kill this one as well."
"Why are all the informants always so young…?"
The words trailed after her like daggers. She had only been in the palace a short while, but she already knew the truth: when ill tidings arrived, the head maid always sent a servant as the bearer. Depending on the severity of the news—and the Emperor's mood—the messenger might not leave the room alive.
Today, she was the sacrifice.
Standing before the colossal double doors, she clenched her fists to steady her nerves. Then, with a deep breath, she knocked twice.
"Your Majesty, Lucian Alexander Sunlight… I bring news."
The silence stretched unbearably long before a reply came.
"You may enter."
The voice was calm. Too calm. Unlike the irritated, storming tone she had always heard of Lucian, this voice carried a strange, unnerving composure. It sent a shiver crawling down her spine.
Pushing the doors open, she froze in shock.
The room was not what she had expected. It was immaculate. No shattered glass, no overturned furniture, none of the whispered tales of women draped across his bed. Instead, the chamber gleamed like crystal, every surface spotless, as though the chaos of his reputation had been erased.
By the tall window, seated at a desk with his back to her, was the Emperor himself. Lucian.
Her breath caught. She had heard it countless times: the Emperor never showed his back to anyone, not even trusted retainers. To see him sitting so exposed filled her with confusion and dread.
"You bring news?" His calm voice broke the silence again. The words were like ice against her skin.
"Y–Yes, Your Majesty… but I fear it may be bad news." She bowed slightly, her voice trembling.
"You may continue."
"There have been monster corpses found outside the Twilight Domain's borders. Our head mage suggests a force from inside the Domain may have crossed over. From the direction of the corpses, th—"
The air grew colder. Her words died in her throat.
"They what?" Lucian asked. Still calm, but sharper now.
"From the direction of the corpses… they may already be within one of the two kingdoms closest to the Twilight Domain. There is also a possibility they are here, in the capital." She steadied herself, ready for whatever fate awaited.
Screeech.
The sound of a chair dragging across marble tore through the room as Lucian rose. The maid flinched violently, heart hammering.
When she dared to look up, her breath left her lungs.
This was not the Emperor she had glimpsed before. His form seemed different—older, more mature. Golden hair flowed like silk down his back, and his face bore not a sneer of arrogance but a calm, controlled expression. His crystal-blue eyes pierced her, intimidating and yet… enchanting.
"You… do you not fear me?" he asked, studying her intently.
"I would never dare not to fear the Emperor," she whispered, bowing quickly.
"What is your name?"
"M–My name is Seraphina… b–but everyone calls me Sera." Her voice stumbled as she tried to speak.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-four, Your Majesty." Confusion flickered across her face. "Forgive me… but why ask me such things?"
"Because," Lucian said with measured calm, "I find you rather enchanting."
Sera's lips parted, but no words came. "Huh…?" was all she managed, her eyes wide.
Without another word, Lucian stepped closer, and as his presence enveloped her, her eyes lit with a strange, unbidden sense of purpose.
Far to the southeast, in the Midnight Kingdom, chaos mirrored that of the Sunlight Capital. Their capital, too, swarmed with people preparing for the Blood Moon Festival. Yet within the royal palace, a quieter storm brewed.
Two kings met in a grand hall.
"It's been a while, Herald," said a black-haired man, shaking the hand of his guest.
"Come now, Sylas," the brown-haired king replied with a smile. "Do you really have to be this formal?"
After brief pleasantries, the two rulers moved to a private chamber. Tea and sweets were served, the clink of porcelain faint against the weight of their conversation.
"So you still refuse to speak to your daughter?" Herald asked, his eyes sharp.
Sylas faltered, his shoulders tightening.
"I know you want to speak to her," Herald pressed. "So why don't you?"
Sylas let out a heavy sigh. "We both know if I visited her, it would stir political unrest. Worse still, it could harm her… and our kingdoms. The Emperor has made it clear—if we reach out to Ailaria, it could mean war."
Herald fell silent. As much as he despised the truth, he could not deny it.
"And your grandchildren?" Herald asked after a pause.
"No… but I won't stop searching." Sylas's voice wavered with guilt.
"I still cannot forgive myself for failing to prevent my niece's imprisonment," Herald admitted, his expression darkening with memory. "But I will help however I can. Even if those children are not entirely human, they should not suffer for our failure to protect their mother."
A knock broke through their words.
"Your Majesties, urgent news."
"Enter," Sylas commanded.
A maid stepped inside, holding a glowing crystal. Sylas's eyes hardened the moment he saw it.
"Bring it here."
Placing the magic crystal on the table, she stepped back. At once, a glowing image materialized above it. The air grew tense.
It was the Emperor.
"I, Lucian Alexander Sunlight, send this message to all," his voice rang out across the projection. Calm, steady, yet carrying the weight of thunder. "I have been patient with traitors long enough. From this moment, no more mercy. All traitors to the Empire will be sentenced to death… beginning with Ailaria Midnight, who broke the sacred law by birthing demon spawn.
"Worry not—I am not so heartless as to kill her immediately. The traitor will be executed within a month. To the royal families of Midnight and Dusk: plot with her, and you will share her fate. I will not tolerate insubordination."
The projection ended. Silence fell.
Herald's fists shook as magic radiated violently from him. "The nerve of that arrogant—!"
Sylas stood frozen, his face pale, his mind a storm.
"Your Majesties," the maid stammered, "you are not the only ones to see this. The Emperor broadcasted it to every kingdom."
"That brat…" Sylas growled. His very presence made the air in the chamber tremble.
"So what now?" Herald asked.
Sylas did not answer. He strode out of the chamber, the grand corridor stretching before him. His thoughts echoed with only one truth: I have failed as a father.
Elsewhere in the Sunlight Capital, tucked between grand towers, a small, dusty bookstore sat unnoticed. Inside, a middle-aged man lounged atop a pile of books, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of paper.
"Hm?" he murmured, looking up suddenly. Shock flickered across his face, but it quickly gave way to a knowing smile.
"So… the strands of fate begin to snap, one by one. Soon the calamities will rain upon those who abuse their authority and crush the weak."
The book in his hands was blank. Yet he stared at it intently, as though reading. A knock echoed at the shop's door, and he gently set the tome aside.
"Well… I cannot wait to see what you will do, Zackary."
As he walked away, an image bled across the blank pages—Zackary, Aisha, and Vlad standing before a tower beneath a blood-red moon.
(Cabin by the Eclipse Tower)
Outside a lonely cabin, Aurelias gazed up at the sky. The evening breeze rustled his cloak.
"To think the day passed so quickly," he mused, recalling their visit to the Nightfall Capital.
"That blue-haired woman… though she hid her true nature, she was without a doubt a siren."
The sky darkened. Shadows lengthened through the forest.
"Soon the moon will rise," he whispered, as the cold wind cut across the trees.
"You should hurry, Master."
At the Eclipse Tower, Zackary, Vlad, and Aisha waited in silence.
"Why are there suddenly so many knights?" Vlad asked, frowning.
"It doesn't matter," Zackary replied firmly. "We just have to get in and out."
"He's right," Aisha agreed. "Once we reach Lady Ailaria, we can teleport back without trouble."
"Alright," Zackary said. His eyes hardened. "Let's move."
At his command, the three vanished into the night, their figures dissolving into invisibility as they approached the tower.
Inside her cell, Ailaria sat quietly by the window.
"It's almost time," she whispered, feeling the power stir within her. She waited for the crimson moon.
At last, the blood-red light spread across the land. Her chamber glowed as the moonlight spilled through the bars.
Her long black hair shimmered, transforming to silver. Her blue eyes burned crimson as she rose gracefully to her feet.
A soft smile touched her lips.
"Praise the Moon."