"What do you really want?" Jassel's voice growled, slicing through the silence of the room like a blade. "You forced me to hold a competition among the Hellseher, gave me dual missions for Enver and Roland, and now… you want to lead Prufen?"
His gaze pierced the air, defiant and laced with fear—words like a reversed prayer, full of hope that they would never come true.
"I've obeyed you up to this point. Don't ask for more. I won't give up this position. We don't even truly know each other. You claim to be their child… Where's the proof?"
Zephyr chuckled softly. The echo of his voice felt like a whisper from behind the walls of time. He stood at the center of the chamber—a place meant only for the highest-ranking mages.
But a single spell of his had been enough to shatter Jassel's oldest protective wards.
Zephyr parted his cloak. His left arm slowly faded, merging with the very air.
"You saw it from the beginning, didn't you? This curse. Not just magic or disease… but a mark. A mark from Moren—my mother. The first, before everything began."
Jassel stood still. His fear twisted into a bitter understanding.
"You all worshipped my younger brother," Zephyr continued, his voice falling to a whisper that soaked into the stone. "None of you ever looked at me. But I don't need that attention anymore. When I lead Prufen, I'll thank you all… with a gift most fitting."
---
Enver lay on the ground—unconscious, his body bridging two worlds. His blood dripped and seeped into a forbidden place: the roots of a colossal tree in the astral realm.
There, Maxcen slept. King of all astral beings. His body wrapped in roots and stone—like an eternal fossil, waiting for the call.
Enver's blood touched the soil.
The Red Kunti, guardian of the bamboo forest, stirred from her slumber. She smelled the power in that blood—the scent of home… and the ruin buried within it.
---
Roland arrived first. He looked down at Enver's body, lips curling into a crooked smile.
"Three ancient astral beings, and one half-astral human. All in the palm of my hand."
He gently kicked Enver's head—like greeting someone he loathed.
"I could complete the ritual without you. But who would've thought… you'd be the key to immortality."
But just as he reached for Enver, the young man's eyes opened. A radiant aura burst from his body, hurling Roland's followers away like dry leaves caught in a storm.
"Too much blood lost… tired," Enver muttered. "Zephyr's really been draining me lately."
"Zephyr? Your brother?" Roland narrowed his eyes.
"You just found out? Child of Moren and Wirly. The one always beside you… that's my brother."
Roland froze.
"That's impossible. Jassel—he never…"
"Because Zephyr was never meant to exist in this world. He is the shadow of a broken time."
---
The sky cracked. Astral creatures emerged, merging into a massive body that swallowed the light.
Roland and Enver stood back to back. Ready to fight.
"Did you teach it? Or Zephyr?" Enver asked while firing a red bullet from a pistol that now breathed like a living thing.
Roland said nothing.
Enver gave a bitter laugh. "I used to think he was weak. But he was only trapped by his human body. Now? You see it for yourself."