The next dawn broke quietly over REF.
Mist hung over the stone walls, and the golden light of the sun caught the tips of the city's new towers — each one a silent monument to what the group had built together.
In the courtyard of the central manor, Luminor adjusted his black cloak. His usually calm silver eyes were harder this morning, sharper — as though he were preparing not for a visit, but for a battle of words.
Sequoia waited beside him, dressed in a long blue traveling robe lined with silver thread — a mark of her noble heritage she'd long abandoned. She seemed uneasy but determined.
Behind them stood Brown, towering and steady, now fully restored to his human form — tall, broad-shouldered, with his black armor polished to a dull shine. Shadows clung faintly to his boots as though the darkness itself obeyed him. Behind him, forty undead warriors of the Shadow Legion stood silently in formation, cloaked in the veil of shadow magic that muffled their presence.
Kael stepped forward, tightening the strap of Luminor's cloak. "You're not going alone," he said firmly.
Luminor looked at him. "You don't trust them either."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "I trust very few nobles. Especially ones who think they can pull strings from their high chairs."
Brown cracked a half-smile. "Don't worry, I'll make sure no one forgets who REF belongs to."
"Good," Kael replied. Then, lowering his voice, "And Brown—keep them safe. Especially her."
Brown gave a curt nod. "Always, my lord."
The three departed at dawn. The undead marched behind them in silence, their footsteps leaving faint traces of shadow in the morning dew.
---
The Spiro Estate lay far to the east of REF — a sprawling fortress built on marble cliffs overlooking the Azure River. By the time they arrived, the sun had sunk into the horizon, painting the walls in fiery gold.
Servants bowed nervously as they passed, whispering among themselves about the "keeper who defied the Spiros" and the "shadow commander who returned from death."
Inside, the halls were just as Sequoia remembered — cold, flawless, and heavy with pride. The portraits of past patriarchs lined the walls, all painted with the same steel-eyed arrogance.
As they reached the grand doors of the patriarch's office, Luminor paused. He could feel mana threads vibrating faintly behind the wall — the distinct hum of whispers carried through magical wards.
"…through them we can control REF," a woman's voice hissed faintly from beyond the door.
It was soft, poised, and venomous.
The voice of Lady Varelle Spiro, Cadrin's second wife — and Sequoia's stepmother.
Luminor's hand clenched at his side. His Keeper senses sharpened, catching every syllable.
"If the boy agrees," she continued, "we'll have the city's core and the Keeper network in our palm. Once REF becomes a noble seat under our name, no one will dare oppose us."
"Enough," Luminor said under his breath.
"Luminor?" Sequoia whispered, confused.
He didn't answer. He strode forward and pushed open the doors before the servant could announce them.
Inside, Lord Cadrin Spiro — an aging man with silver-black hair and proud features — sat behind a wide oak desk covered with documents. Lady Varelle stood near the fireplace, her jeweled hands clasped and her expression perfectly composed, as though she hadn't been plotting just moments ago.
"Ah, Luminor," Lord Cadrin began smoothly. "And Sequoia. It's good to see you both—"
"Save it," Luminor cut in, his voice sharp. "I heard enough before I stepped inside."
Cadrin blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You want control of REF," Luminor said coldly. "You think by pulling me back under your family name, you can claim what we built. You think REF is just another estate to decorate your coffers."
Lady Varelle's smile didn't falter, but her eyes flickered. "You misunderstand, dear. We only wish to strengthen our ties again—"
"No," Luminor snapped, his aura flaring. Silver runes flickered faintly across his neck and arms, glowing with restrained Keeper energy. "You wish to own what you never built."
Even Sequoia froze at his tone — she'd never heard Luminor raise his voice before.
He stepped forward, pointing to himself, eyes burning with anger.
"I built that city!" he shouted. "Me! Brick by brick! From ashes and dust! You talk about taking control, but where were you when the monsters came? When the walls fell? When people bled to keep REF alive?"
Cadrin's voice rose in defense. "Mind your tone, boy! You forget yourself before the Patriarch of Spiro!"
Luminor slammed his palm against the desk, the wood creaking under the surge of mana. "I don't forget anything! I remember every hour I spent rebuilding what this family abandoned. You think I'll let you take it?!"
He straightened, his voice dropping low, but every word carried like thunder.
"Lose? I don't lose. I win. That's my job. That's what I do."
The room fell silent. Even the fire's crackle seemed to hold its breath.
Sequoia stared at him — shocked, but proud. For once, the quiet Keeper who always measured every word had unleashed the fire buried beneath his calm.
Cadrin's face darkened. "So this is what you've become? A wild mage shouting defiance at his elders?"
Luminor's gaze didn't waver. "No, Patriarch. I've become a man who understands what worth means. REF belongs to those who bled for it — not to your name, not to your greed."
Lady Varelle's expression finally cracked. "You dare insult your family—"
Sequoia stepped forward suddenly, her voice firm. "Enough, Lady Varelle. You stopped being my family the day you sold my loyalty for status."
Luminor turned slightly toward her, calm returning to his features. "We're leaving."
Cadrin's tone hardened. "You walk away from this estate, you walk away from everything that once gave you power."
"I already did," Luminor said, his voice like steel.
He turned sharply. "Brown."
The shadow commander stepped forward immediately, his presence chilling the air. "Yes, Lord Luminor."
"Prepare the Legion," Luminor said. "We're leaving this place. No one follows."
The undead outside stirred at his command. The guards near the door froze, uncertain whether to draw their weapons or bow.
Luminor paused once more at the threshold. "Tell your nobles," he said to Cadrin, "that REF stands under no banner but its own."
Then he walked out.
---
Outside, the cold wind from the cliffs met them, carrying the faint scent of river salt and pine.
Sequoia exhaled shakily. "I've never seen you like that."
Luminor's voice softened slightly. "Neither have I. But some things… needed to be said."
Brown smirked faintly as the undead formed ranks behind them. "You know, I liked that speech. Should've brought reporters."
Sequoia rolled her eyes. "Not funny, Brown."
He shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's true. That was the kind of speech people remember."
Luminor didn't smile, but the corner of his lips twitched. "Let them remember the truth, then."
As the Shadow Legion marched away from the Spiro Estate and back toward REF, the sunset burned behind them — crimson and gold, like the fire of a city that refused to bow.
For the first time since he'd left, Luminor felt something stir in his chest. Not rage. Not pride.
Purpose.