The fortress of Garresh had fallen silent again. The broken eclipse relic pulsed faintly on the stone pedestal where Neolin placed it, as if waiting to be awakened. The group stood in a rough circle, each of them reeling from the events in the ruins — especially Jack, who hadn't said a word since their encounter with the corrupted soldier.
They had seen what Palecto could do when twisted. They had seen what Kazakare's influence left behind.
And yet, Neolin said, this was only the beginning.
The skywagon hummed as they flew back toward the capital. Inside the hold, no one spoke. Kitty sat near the window, tracing her pendant again and again. Peter flipped a dagger in his hand without throwing it. Lucy's gaze was lost in the clouds.
Finally, Marcus broke the silence.
"So we've seen one relic. That's one out of seven, right?"
Frank nodded without looking up. "Six more remain. One in every old Demon City."
"And they're all connected to the sealed obelisks?" Susan asked.
"Yes," Neolin answered. "They weren't just weapons or ornaments. Each relic helped contain one of the seven demons — or their power fragments."
Tom leaned forward, elbows on knees. "If Kazakare gets all seven…?"
"He won't," Frank said flatly.
Neolin gave a slow nod. "Not if we stay ahead of him. But you'll need to be trained. And tested."
Jack finally looked up. "What kind of test?"
Neolin's eyes didn't blink. "One where some of you will fail."
---
Back at the capital, the city gates opened with ceremony. The people were cheering — news of the group's victory had spread fast. Artists had already begun painting murals of Susan deflecting darkness with diamond. Market stalls sold mini fire gloves like Tom's. Jack's shadow sigil was turned into a festival mask. Frank's name had become part of a new chant.
But none of them smiled.
Fame wasn't what they wanted. Not now. Not when everything had changed.
They were led straight into the west training tower — where the king's children waited for them.
Picson, the strong firstborn prince, stepped forward.
"You're back," he said. "And stronger."
Susan replied, "Stronger, maybe. But we saw something… wrong."
Frank explained what had happened. The corrupted man. The shadow puppet Kazakare had left behind. The relic.
Selna, the princess, narrowed her eyes. "So Kazakare's not trying to kill you. He's trying to wear you down."
"Divide us," Lucy added softly.
"Or worse," Roul said from the corner. "Turn us."
Jack flinched slightly.
Neolin crossed his arms. "Which is why your next step will not be another mission."
Peter blinked. "Then what?"
"Training. Real training. Deep system combat. You've barely scratched the surface of Triggsen. You've never even touched Elysian glyph structure."
Tom raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
Neolin looked up at the ceiling — where a soft star map was painted across the dome.
"Some power comes from the ground — the blood, the bones, the rage. But some… comes from above. From order. From patterns the stars remember, even when we forget."
Frank nodded. "Elysian Code."
"Correct," Neolin said. "Only a few people have ever used it. Obruhn was one of them."
Jack muttered, "Obruhn Saren… the king who vanished beneath Alkros."
"The same," Neolin confirmed. "His glyphs warped the battlefield. Some say he once stopped an army by freezing time mid-breath."
"And now Kazakare might try to break into Alkros," Marcus added.
Neolin turned. "Exactly. Which is why the Seven — and the Sigil Bearers — must prepare."
---
That night, the seven stayed in the sky courtyard — a quiet place high above the city, where the stars felt close enough to touch. The wind was soft. Below, the lights of Odessyus shimmered like rivers of flame.
"I don't think we're ready," Lucy said quietly.
Kitty sat beside her. "No one ever is."
Susan stood near the railing. "I wonder what the rest of us will awaken."
Jack looked down at his palm, at the black dot that never faded.
Tom tossed a pebble over the edge. "Doesn't matter. Demon or not, we're still us."
Frank remained silent.
Then he said, "No."
Everyone turned.
"We're not who we were. We're pieces of something bigger now. And the more we grow… the more they'll try to break us."
Peter laughed dryly. "Cheerful as always."
But even he didn't deny it.
In the far distance, where the stars began to vanish behind the horizon, a single tower glowed red — barely visible, hidden among the cliffs.
A watcher stood atop it. Cloaked in tattered robes.
He had no face. Just a stitched mask with three empty eyes.
He held a scroll in one hand.
And on that scroll were seven names.
Each one scratched in deeper every day.