The air at the top of Aethelgard smelled of magical ozone and the cold, pristine discipline of power. Ren, dressed in the refined armor of an Elite Paladin, was in his private study, a space of marble and obsidian that served as his strategic bunker.
He had just forced Lyra, the Elf of bureaucracy, to hand him the censored file. His hand closed over the gaunt parchment as she left the room, with a mix of fear and respect.
The title was cold and official: "MIRE SPECTER – Subject: Unknown. Potential: Chaos/Absorption".
Ren didn't need to read the file. Only one element in the document froze him: a prison guard's scribble saying Cell Nickname: K.
Kaito.
The impact was physical. After fifteen years of solitary ascension and a covert search, the Conjunction, the bond, the name.
His brother was alive, but had fallen into the Paladins' death prison's claws.
The tragedy was that he, Ren, had become the enemy Kaito must fear.
The pain Ren felt wasn't one of guilt, but of a cold, urgent need for action.
He had taken years to weave his web of subversion at the Conclave's peak; he wasn't going to risk it all on a reckless rescue.
Ren stood up, his right hand going to his chest, to the spot where he felt the bond with Kaito.
It had always been a distant echo, a cold reminder. But in that instant, the bond *burned*.
It wasn't the heat of magic, but a discharge of visceral coldness, as if Kaito's essence was rejecting him.
It was a stab of chaotic, toxic pain that hit him straight to the soul.
Ren staggered, bracing himself on his desk, feeling his brother's Shadow at the core of his being.
Kaito... what have you done?
Ren understood. His brother wasn't just suffering; he was *fighting*.
Kaito had found a way to use his magic and was attacking the emotional bond like it was an enemy.
It was a declaration of personal war.
Cold fury replaced desperation. Kaito was under the control of Inquisitor Lysandra Vane, the Conclave's most efficient torturer, and now he'd drawn Darius's attention.
Ren pulled out a small arcane communicator, a forbidden device, and dialed an encryption code known only to a few dark magicians.
"I am Commander Ren," he said into the device, his voice laden with authority but with a hint of urgency. "I need a report. The Conclave suspects there's a new group trying to sabotage the Demon King's reputation. I need the Ash Queen to give me information on Lysandra Vane's movements."
On the other end of the line, the voice that answered was deep, husky, and laden with power that surpassed any Light Paladin's.
"Commander. The price of this information is high. It always is."
"The price will be paid, Your Majesty," Ren replied, drawing a calculated smile. "An immediate meeting, where we'll discuss a possible alliance, under my terms. And trust me, my terms are very, very interesting."
Ren hung up. The chess game had begun.
He had to save his brother, manipulate the Demon Queen and maintain his Elite Paladin mask.