Chapter 9
It started with whispers.
A crest left on a sparring mat. A sigil flaring faintly during training. The emblem of Umbrenox—the house long thought fallen—had surfaced, if only for a flicker. And in a place like Sanctum Astrae, even a flicker could ignite a storm.
Astern had noticed the stares.
Some were of curiosity. Others, veiled suspicion.
But none cut deeper than the eyes of Instructor Selkyr during drills. She had grown silent around him—not dismissive, but measured, calculating. Watching.
Dorm D remained his haven. Kaela treated him no differently, teasing him over everything from how stiff he held his sword to the way he never let his aura leak. Lunaria grew quieter, but not distant. Her glances lingered longer, more inquisitive.
One night, she knocked on his door.
"Can I ask something?"
Astern nodded. "Of course."
"The aura you used in the Celestial Divide... it wasn't angelic alone. I felt it. There was... hunger in it. Like it wanted more than victory."
Astern didn't respond immediately. He opened the window, letting the night air drift in. The stars above seemed to hum.
"I'm still figuring it out," he said. "But I think... part of me isn't just angel."
Lunaria's eyes narrowed. Not in anger—understanding.
"You're part something else."
He nodded. "Ghoul."
She sat beside him without flinching.
"Do Kaela and the others know?"
"No. I don't know if they'd look at me the same."
"They will," Lunaria said softly. "But others won't. You know that, right?"
He did. And the more he trained, the more his body changed, adapted—he felt it. The ghoul blood was no longer dormant.
---
Elsewhere, in the highest tower of the academy, Seraphon stood before an obsidian mirror. Reflections shimmered, revealing faces across realms.
"The bloodline awakens," said a voice from the void. "The pact must be remembered."
Seraphon's tone remained calm. "He's not ready. But he will be."
"The Ghoul King stirs in the wastelands," another added. "And the Demon Court watches closely."
Seraphon's fingers tightened around his staff. "Let them watch. But if they move too soon, we burn their watchers."
---
Meanwhile, in the academy library, Astern found himself drawn to a locked section he had once been barred from. This time, the wards opened for him. As if they recognized him.
Inside, he found a tome sealed in iron.
"Bloodlines of the Shattered Pact."
He read.
It spoke of ancient families—Umbrenox among them. Of their role in binding the Ghoul Tribes to the Angelic Accord after the first Celestial-Demonic War. How they, unlike others, mingled light with shadow. How their children were feared.
How those children were hunted.
He turned to the last page.
Only one bloodline remained.
Only one heir unaccounted for.
His hands trembled.
He closed the book.
Behind him, Kaela peeked over his shoulder. "You always come here when you can't sleep?"
He nearly jumped.
"You scared me."
She grinned. "You looked like you were reading death."
Astern offered a small smile. "Maybe I was."
But inside, something shifted.
Because now he knew:
He wasn't just a survivor.
He was a key to a war that never truly ended.
And his enemies... were already closer than he thought.