Wein didn't know what else to do as he looked at Elaina through the spreading dust that had reached his spot. The sound of collapsing buildings echoed and shook his legs.
He stepped forward, gazing at the special forces, firefighters, and several other members of Gladius who had arrived. He looked exhausted as he calmly walked toward Elaina.
Turning to look at his sister, who had returned from the explosion, he immediately launched into a tight, worried embrace, holding her for a few seconds before letting go.
"You did great," she whispered into Wein's ear, stepping back and looking at him with full attention.
Behind her, he noticed a figure standing—someone with dark blue hair and wearing the same uniform as Elaina.
Everyone stood, and some professors approached. Wein was slightly surprised when a few half-wounded individuals covered in bruises came toward him.
The first was a professor, with bruised hands and a body stained with blood. He smiled and patted Wein's shoulder with gratitude. "I didn't expect you to show up. That was quite a surprise. Thank you."
Several people looked at Wein. The expressions that once held fear now shone with happiness.
But that didn't last long. A Gladius, Akylaa, approached Elaina and spoke in a calm tone.
"Several Gladius have fallen at the border. An emergency meeting will be held tonight. We must leave now," said Akylaa Doreion.
Before leaving, Elaina walked over to Wein and handed him his pocket watch—it was his, left behind, now returned.
The two of them left immediately, walking slowly to maintain secrecy. A Gladius didn't care what had happened and wouldn't stay for evacuation—they had more important priorities, and now those had begun.
Everyone's gaze followed them, but then another figure emerged elegantly from the falling debris—a woman. Everyone knew who she was: Director Claudia.
Director Claudia stepped out from behind the dust, her face pale and her movements sluggish. She tried to gather the professors before someone else returned.
Elaina—she had come back with Akylaa, who was waiting. They rushed toward Wein and said something urgent. "Wein, you've been summoned to the palace," Elaina said, panting.
Slightly surprised, but already prepared, Wein didn't ask why he was summoned—he simply followed his sister.
Walking past the crowd that stared at him, he made his way through until finally arriving at a flying disk—whatever it was. Elaina jumped onto it and reached out her hand to him.
Wein took her hand and climbed aboard. Even after he was on the flying disk, both of his wolves shrank and jumped onto the same platform.
He was confused, deeply worried about Loraine, but he had seen her being treated and knew she would be returned to her family.
As the disk flew farther, the Academy disappeared from view, and the speed increased. Wein sat, holding his two wolves tightly.
"So Lucas died by suicide?" Akylaa asked, breaking the silence with a vibrating voice as the disk flew through the air.
Elaina looked at Akylaa and responded. "Yes. A massive explosion destroyed his body." She then shifted her gaze to Wein Arcveil.
"Several reports also say terrorist attacks happened in other academies. These attacks have left us overwhelmed," said Akylaa, exhaling deeply.
"The same attacks, huh?" Elaina took a long breath. "Are there any signs or clues that connect them all?"
"No one says they're the same, because the Aete Academy is extremely hard to understand. But there is one word mentioned by every terrorist at the different locations." The disk sped up again, the rushing wind briefly disturbing their conversation.
"Faergyrn—they all said that one name," Akylaa said. Wein suddenly straightened up, his face rising with surprise after hearing the name Lucas had spoken.
The fact that it wasn't just a fabrication shocked him. A name mentioned in every terrorist attack—how were the other academies handling this?
"Lucas said the same thing," Wein said firmly, raising his voice against the wind. Elaina looked at him, surprised.
"He mentioned that name? What exactly did he say?" Elaina asked, turning her body slightly to hear Wein better.
Wein remembered the moment Lucas had whined and claimed that even Faergyrn wouldn't dare do what he did. The words were strange, but Wein picked the clearest parts.
"He said, 'Even Faergyrn wouldn't dare go against me. Witness the retribution Faergyrn will deliver upon humanity.' Something like that." Wein explained, and the room fell silent. No one spoke until Akylaa broke it.
"This is serious. Gladius lost three members, and two more are permanently injured. This is a heavy blow for us all," Akylaa stated. Then, they started whispering about Gladius' condition, not letting Wein hear.
"Sorry, Wein. I know it's rude to whisper, but this is a secret we can't spread," she said, while Elaina nodded in agreement.
While they remained calm, Wein realized that they didn't even know who had fallen. How could our enemies be stronger than Gladius? Even a thousand Gold-ranked individuals couldn't take down one Gladius.
They were powerful, but when deployed to the border, three were defeated and two injured. That was unthinkable. Which meant only five Gladius remained active now.
The fact that this was a retreat shocked him. Our coalition had truly been pushed back—even in moments like these, we were losing our strongest forces.
A few seconds before arrival, the wind noise decreased and the pressure eased. Some of the vehicles here were far more advanced than anything Wein had ever seen.
He was stunned when a small curtain lifted from the flying disk. They had arrived at a massive, majestic palace—only a few seconds passed before he realized they had reached the floating palace of world peace: Altareign.
It was magnificent, extraordinary—even so large it could fit a million people inside?
"Amazing, isn't it?" said Elaina as she jumped down, leaving Wein to follow.
Three floating islands in the sky—each like a heavenly land defying the laws of the world—connected by massive arching bridges suspended with no visible supports. On each island stood colossal buildings, stone pillars rising like eternal sentinels, supporting grand roofs adorned with layers of gleaming gold—shimmering gently whether under sun or moonlight.
The walls looked like marble bones kissed by time—pale yet sturdy, with fine veins tracing their surfaces, adding an ancient yet noble feel. The carvings told stories: tales of the past etched in relief along the archways and building sides, as if this kingdom were not just a residence, but a living history book.
The sky's wind carried the fragrance of incense and the sound of bells from the tower on the central island—home to the royal throne, unmatched in its grandeur, crowned with a blinding golden dome. At night, the three islands appeared like massive stars that never fell—bridging land and sky in a kingdom seemingly penned by the hands of gods.