In the dark corridor lined with obsidian beneath the Great Hall of Gaia, the atmosphere felt oppressive and mournful, the walls concealing whispers of long-buried secrets and the flickering shadows of despair. Charles Dareth Nocturne stumbled forward, his trembling fingers brushing against his temple, where dried blood clung like a dark reminder of his ordeal, leaving a stark crimson imprint on his outstretched hand. Ahead of him, a tall figure draped in glimmering gold emerged from the darkness, resembling a venomous serpent poised to strike its unsuspecting prey. The figure's face was sharp and calculating, each contour meticulously sculpted to evoke a deep sense of dread; its eyes, cold and unwavering like unyielding steel, gleamed with a sinister intensity, reminiscent of a freshly sharpened blade: Senator Kaeso Vallaricus, the hardened leader of Gaia's conservative faction and a fervent advocate for the "Voidblood" cleanup program.
"So, you failed." Kaeso's voice cut through the thick silence, sharp and deliberate, each word delivered with a chilling precision that echoed ominously in the stifling air. His expression betrayed no trace of sympathy, instead marred by a palpable dissatisfaction fueled by his relentless ambition. "Rinoa is still alive. Fitran is still at large."
Charles lowered his gaze, his breath weighted not by fear but by the bitter acknowledgment gnawing at his very core. A surge of helplessness bubbled to the surface only when he lifted his head, allowing a dim light to filter into his vacant stare. "Yes, I failed. But please, let me explain first."
Kaeso clenched his fists, the tension radiating throughout the room like dark, crackling energy, exuding an aura so terrifying it felt as though a storm was about to erupt. His body burned with a fierce intensity, a human ember pulsing with vibrant energy, while his unwavering posture pressed against the very walls around him, compressing the air with his righteous indignation. "You are the best hitman we have! How is it possible that one man and a girl could make you retreat?!"
Charles lifted his head, his gaze steady yet layered with an abyss of emotion that seemed to slice through the suffocating darkness enveloping him. His voice quivered, laced with tension and a hint of fear that echoed in the charged air. "Because he is not just 'an ordinary man.' Fitran... did not truly fight me. I know that. His every movement was astoundingly calculated, reminiscent of a graceful dance that veiled peril behind each step. It felt as though he was guarding something profound, a secret that loomed larger than the both of us. If Rinoa hadn't been there, if he had unleashed his full potential…"
He paused for a moment, his gaze penetrating deep into Kaeso's eyes, a silent challenge emerging to rekindle the courage that appeared to be wading off into the shadows.
"...I might have been dead in three seconds."
The silence hangs in the air, sharp as a guillotine blade, poised for the painful final decision. Time seems to suspend, the wind in the room stilled, as if it, too, were holding its breath amidst the unbearable panic and tension. Each passing second elongates into an eternity, saturating the atmosphere with a heavy, emotional weight that presses down on all present.
Kaeso squints, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by flickering shadows, creating a chilling silhouette that looms ominously, signaling impending danger. His voice transforms—not with anger, but a restless urgency, echoing the tumult of uncertainty swirling violently within him. "Three seconds? What nonsense are you saying?" His words shake, trembling with the tension that unfurls like a taut string, as if every being around him is collectively holding their breath in the suffocating silence.
Charles stepped forward, exuding clear determination, his footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor, each creak revealing the bravery he had long kept concealed. "Have you forgotten who he is? Fitran is the one who defeated Chaos, the King of Gamma," he proclaimed, his arms spreading wide, conjuring the image of their precarious position before a monumental threat. The dim candlelight danced upon his face, adding an otherworldly shimmer that deepened the gravity of his words. "He is the man who returned from the chasm beyond reality, bearing both destruction and hope in his hands." His expression grew dense with conviction, his thick brows knitted together, underscoring the weight of his statement, as though he were daring everyone to grasp the dire peril at their threshold.
Kaeso turned away, his jaw clenched and teeth grinding together, unwilling to expose the gnawing uncertainty that plagued his mind. That name—Chaos—still lingered like a specter in the memories of every Gaia leader who had endured the Heaven Wars, etched into their souls like a scar that refused to fade. His cold, sharp eyes glimmered in the darkness, emanating a fierce determination; he would not accept defeat again.
"...so, he is holding back?" Kaeso's voice emerged low, a whispering wind attempting to caress a heart hardened by turmoil, infused with sincerity. His gaze wandered to the ceiling, searching for answers hidden among the shifting shadows that danced like phantoms above him.
"Yes," Charles replied firmly, his hand gently pressing against his chest as if to calm the tempest within. "And I will not confront him again without the strength of a full army, divine-class artifacts, and... prayers." With each word, the burden on his shoulders felt increasingly oppressive, yet his expression remained resolute, a profound mix of fear and hope flickering within his eyes like a candle against the encroaching darkness.
Kaeso fell silent, enveloped in a suffocating stillness that blanketed the room, the weight of his tumultuous thoughts steering him toward an inevitable and grave decision. The depth of his gaze darkened, glimmering like obsidian, filled with the sharp clarity of calculation as if he were weaving an intricate plan within the deepening shadows. "Very well. Then... we will take this war to the next level," he stated decisively, his voice piercing through the tension in the air like a blade. His hands clenched into tight fists, veins standing out prominently like twisted roots, each pulse echoing his unwavering determination and challenging the world around him. "If we can't kill him directly... then we will destroy his reasons for fighting," he continued, each word emerging with the growl of sincerity, resonating like a battle cry that longed to be unleashed. A smile crept slowly across his face, sharp and purposeful, akin to a blade sliding out of its sheath, well-known for inflicting pain and awakening a terrifying power that lay dormant within him.
"Rinoa. She is the key," Kaeso declared with burning conviction, each word resonating like a powerful incantation, summoning unseen forces to battle the tumultuous winds of uncertainty. His voice surged with an intensity ready to break through every obstacle in sight. This new plan loomed ominously, shrouded in darkness—a strategy poised to shake the very foundations of the world, leaving a path of dread in its wake. Kaeso's footsteps reverberated down the obsidian marble corridor, each imprint echoing like the clang of a decisive sword strike, creating an unsettling resonance in the stillness. He cast a final glance at Charles, his eyes ablaze with profound meaning and challenge before he vanished through the grand door embellished with intricate golden glyphs, merging seamlessly with the encroaching shadows.
"Recover yourself, Dareth," Kaeso commanded without glancing back, his voice resolute, flowing like a river demanding compliance. "You will move again soon. This time... not to kill." His expression morphed into an enigmatic mask, hinting that the journey ahead would transcend mere combat, leading instead toward a darker truth fraught with trials that even the mightiest could not escape.
Charles squinted, the shadows of tension flitting across his handsome visage, etching deep lines of worry into his brow. His voice wavered, heavy with confusion and uncertainty, "So?" he asked, each word draped in apprehension.
Kaeso paused, his brow furrowing as the tumultuous emotions of determination and doubt wrestled within him. His voice lowered, smooth and insidious like poison seeping into the morning's stillness.
"To reveal the true nature of Fitran Fate... and the true essence of Rinoa," he declared, his piercing gaze cutting through the emptiness around him, as if foreseeing the perilous chasm that lay ahead of their journey.
Meanwhile, on the far side of the world—nestled within a wooden inn adorned with autumn leaves in Cerza—Fitran sat on the porch, exuding an air of calm that belied his inner restlessness. The weight of the overcast sky pressed down, casting a subdued grayish-blue hue over the landscape, mirroring the tension coiling within him. Inside the inn, Rinoa remained in slumber, her hair scattered like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, her breath a soft whisper reminiscent of an ancient forest's secrets, wrapped in a cocoon of protective magic. Yet, beneath the tranquil surface, a hardened expression emerged on Fitran's face, his jaw clenched tightly and brows drawn together, creating an atmosphere thick with uncertainty. He understood... this fleeting moment of closeness was ephemeral, and an oppressive weight filled the void that lay between them.
Suddenly, a chilling wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a damp, cold aroma that seeped from the heart of the ancient forest. From the swirling particles of dust that danced in the dim light, a magical scroll began to materialize, emerging as if it were a long-forgotten memory, reluctant to fade from his conscious mind. The emblem of the Secret Council shimmered into view, its edges stained with dried blood, awakening a chilling sensation that crept along Fitran's spine like icy fingers brushing against his skin.
With slightly trembling hands, Fitran unfurled the scroll, his heart racing as anticipation surged within him. Inscribed in pulsing red ink—vivid and alive—was a single sentence that sent a threatening vibration piercing through his core:
"The hunt has begun."
In a moment of quiet defiance, Fitran crushed the scroll until it crumbled into black ash, the delicate remnants swirling and disappearing into the shadows of the night. His gaze traveled far to the west—toward the epicenter of Gaia's power, where Senator Kaeso lingered—stepping into the depths of a past that had yet to be fully buried. His expression was etched with unwavering determination, seeking to pierce the endless fog that surrounded him.
As dawn broke, Rinoa stepped outside, sensing the delicate boundary between the dream world and harsh reality. Still adrift in a fog of drowsiness, she wore an oversized long robe, a cozy blanket draped over her shoulders, creating an illusion of warmth against the biting cold air that nipped at her skin. Her gentle and innocent face, marked by lines of confusion, betrayed her thoughts as her brow furrowed while looking at Fitran. "You woke up early..." she murmured softly, her voice akin to dew caressing the leaves at sunrise.
Fitran returned a faint smile, yet his dark eyes betrayed a deep concern, as if he were ensnared in a labyrinth of troubling thoughts. "I couldn't sleep... the fog is too thick," he replied in a hushed tone, his body language awkward and tense, revealing the doubt that gnawed at his soul like a dark shadow threatening to engulf him.
Rinoa's brows knitted tighter, her neat features radiating an instinctive vigilance. She became acutely aware of the tension that crackled in the air as she said, "You always speak as if the wind whispers to you," her voice gentle yet attentive, filled with a hopeful determination to breach the walls of doubt that confined Fitran's heart.
"Because perhaps... the wind is indeed trying to tell us something," Fitran responded, his voice trembling with an unsteady conviction. He slowly turned to face her, his deep-set eyes reflecting a plethora of unspoken secrets. In the subdued light, the shadow of his firm visage gave off an enigmatic aura that was difficult to articulate. "Something bad is coming."
Rinoa grasped at his sleeve, her fingers gripping tightly as if to anchor herself in the encroaching darkness that surrounded them. "I will not leave. If they come... I will fight alongside you."
Fitran's piercing gaze met hers, his eyes seeming to reach deep within her soul, forging an invisible bond that transcended spoken words. In that profound silence, all the sounds of the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the echo of their racing hearts, beating as one within the chilling stillness.
"I know. But... are you ready to uncover the truth about yourself, Rinoa?" he asked, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air.
Rinoa held her breath, her lips quivering as his words coiled around her heart, instilling an uneasy fear of the unknown. "I don't know who I am, Fitran. But I know... I don't want to lose you," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
As soon as those stark words escaped her lips, a palpable tension crackled through the air, as if the very fabric of their reality was beginning to unravel. In the lavish hall of the Gaia Senate Tower, where the dim light flickered and danced among ornate, majestic decorations, the wind suddenly fell silent. The guards stationed at the gate froze, their expressions shifting from vigilant readiness to a stunned awe, not out of fear, but in response to a force that seemed to transcend their understanding—a tension that seeped deep into their bones.
With graceful steps that seemed to reverberate through the very ground, a woman clad in a flowing black silk robe, intricately adorned with a shimmering golden phoenix pattern, emerged uninvited. Each movement of her form resembled a dance kissed by shadows—serene and fluid, yet unmistakably emanating an aura of formidable power. Her long hair cascaded like a dark waterfall, elegantly pinned back with a hairpin resembling a miniature katana, suggesting deep meanings and untold stories woven within its delicate design. Accompanying each of her steps was the soft chime of tiny bells from her ornate metal belt—the echoes of her homeland, Cerza, resonating like whispers of ancient lore, enhancing her ethereal elegance.
As she stepped into the hall, the sky above shifted into twilight, even in the midst of morning, a canvas painted with deep hues that danced on the horizon. This surreal transformation bathed the scene in an enigmatic glow, enhancing the already mysterious ambiance surrounding her.
"My name is Oda Nobuzan," she declared, her voice a gentle yet powerful stream, capable of cleaving mountains, flowing like crystal-clear water over sun-warmed stones—both inviting and formidable. "I am one of the Ten Highest Sorcerers in the World, Leader of the Taka-no-Kami Clan, Heir to the Key of the Eastern Dimension, and—" she interjected, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow and flashing a smirk that held a blend of arrogance and unyielding resolve, her sophistication almost enchanting, "—the woman who intends to marry Fitran Fate."
On the other side of the room, Senator Kaeso Vallaricus—normally a formidable presence capable of defying gods with merely an icy gaze—now appeared visibly shaken, as if he had just choked on a robust wine. His complexion drained of color, a sheen of cold sweat trickled down his temples, suggesting that all his usual strength and confidence had evaporated in the face of Nobuzan's enigmatic aura. He sat frozen, his lips sealed tightly, while his trembling fingers gripped the solid wooden armrest of his chair, searching for stability amidst the unexpected tempest that had suddenly engulfed him.
"Marrying… F-Fitran?" he stammered, his voice quaking like a timid student caught off guard by an unexpected reprimand. A dark veil of disbelief descended upon his thoughts, and his typically keen eyes blinked in bewilderment. A sliver of twilight light refracted within his gaze, casting shadows that deepened the unspoken sorrow—an emotion so profound that it felt as though the very sky shared the weight of his turmoil.
"Indeed." Nobuzan glided forward with an elegance that demanded attention, each step resonating like the rallying call of a war song, powerful and stirring. "I have dreamed of that man for seven cerza seasons. Even the dragon guardian of time has whispered hints of him as my destiny. Therefore... I have come to claim my future husband." A palpable energy seemed to radiate from him, dark shadows delicately draping over his face like a cloak of night, imbuing him with an enchanting presence that was nearly irresistible.
Kaeso, fighting to maintain his composure, furrowed his brow, his breath steadying as tension enveloped him. "And... you think we would just give him to you?" His words broke the suffocating silence, sharp and piercing like a branch snapping in a fierce wind, exposing the tumult of emotions roiling within.
Nobuzan let out a soft chuckle, the sound ringing like the tinkling of distant chimes, causing every window pane in the room to vibrate with the magic he embodied. A confident smile blossomed across his lips, his eyes twinkling with a mix of arrogance and allure.
"I have never come to ask. I have come to ensure." Each movement he made carried the freshness of a cool night breeze swirling through a lush forest, stirring waves of wonder in the hearts of those who beheld him, as if even nature itself were entranced by his undeniable charisma.
Then he raised a slender finger, pointing eastward toward the horizon, where the sun was slowly surrendering its light, allowing a palette of soft pastels to wash over the sky.
"Tell all your hunters—if they touch Fitran before I do... I will melt your tower and reshape it from your bones." His voice reverberated with an unmistakable authority, each word laced with menace, hanging thick in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. The world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in a charged silence.
With an air of refined elegance, he strode towards the vacant senator's chair—a magnificent throne fashioned from rich, dark wood, intricately carved with symbols of unyielding power and rebirth. Every movement he made spoke of unwavering determination; his posture was regal, his chin lifted high, exuding an unassailable confidence that brooked no challenge. The luxurious black fabric of his robe floated around him with each step, merging seamlessly into the enveloping shadows of the dimly lit space, creating the illusion that he was one with the darkness itself. "I will wait. But not for long," he pronounced, his voice low and resonant, rumbling like distant thunder, a clear harbinger of the concealed threats woven into every syllable.
Kaeso let out a heavy sigh, his breath strained beneath the weight pressing down on his heart. Lines of doubt creased his usually calm face, as if he had become ensnared in a whirlpool of restless and anxious thoughts. His eyes, once vibrant with curiosity, now mirrored a stormy sky—gray and ominous, reflecting the chaos that raged all around him. Outside the window, the heavens churned with magnificent yet threatening gray clouds, casting a pall over the world as if even nature itself lamented the inevitable fate awaiting them. The world had descended into turmoil, and now, a woman from the very ends of the earth had stepped onto the stage, deepening the oppressive atmosphere that cloaked everything in darkness.