Unfortunately, I've decided to kidnap you, my lady." His voice carried a weight that made the words feel like they were collapsing over her head. Egologia was in no rush.
"The men here are stubborn—they won't reveal a thing. But you... you might help a promising man like me."
The taut threads coiled around her wrists twisted slightly, as if reminding her of their presence. Her breath was ragged, her eyes unable to focus fully on him, but she spoke. Because silence was worse.
"The Heavenly Conflict... you're asking about that?" she stammered, inhaling a shaky breath before continuing, "The Five Kingdoms."
Her lips trembled. "Far to the north, beyond what the people can even imagine... there's a battlefield that hasn't yet begun."
"Clarify, my lady." With unsettling politeness, his request sounded like nothing more than a conversation between friends.
"The Five Kingdoms aren't moving. No one dares take a single miscalculated step. Any unusual movement, any approach, any attempt to advance... will be met with equal violence. No one wants to be the one to start, but everyone is waiting."
"Everyone is after one thing..." She paused for a moment, as if the words were heavy on her tongue, as if speaking them might make them too real. "Control over the heavens."
"And why?"
"Because whoever controls them... gains access to their treasures."
For a moment, it was her own mind that began to deceive her. Egologia hadn't moved, yet his presence felt even more suffocating.
"And what are these treasures?"
She fell silent. Perhaps because she didn't know—or perhaps because she feared that speaking them would cost her more than it should.
Egologia didn't repeat his question. He didn't need to. Instead, he smiled softly.
"Which family are you from?"
Her mouth was half-open—half a gasp, half a word that couldn't escape her tongue.
"I'll repeat... which family are you from, my lady?"
Her eyes darted violently, her breath quickened. Finally, she whispered, "Ba... Baron... I am of the Barons, my sir..."
A small laugh. A laugh... then silence.
"Baron? Truly?"
The blood in her veins turned hot, and she let slip what she had kept from him. "Treasures... It's... something that grants eternal prosperity."
"Eternal prosperity?"
She nodded. "The treasure of the heavens isn't just power. It's something... that changes everything. It grants long life, ensures prosperity... Any kingdom that possesses it could rule forever."
She paused, her breath uneven. Then, in a quieter but more fearful voice, she added, "This treasure is the reason for this conflict. All the kingdoms aspire to it. All of them believe it's the only path to survival."
Egologia watched her without blinking, as if reading his favorite lines.
"So, only the great kingdoms could join this conflict?"
She nodded again. "Yeah. Only the great kingdoms. Those who weren't great couldn't even reach it. Couldn't survive in this struggle."
"What about Zirafin? Now?"
She couldn't hide her reaction. "Zirafin..." she hesitated. "I fear we're about to be pushed out of the conflict... and everything will collapse."
"So, you're retreating."
She shook her head, trying to deny something. "No... we're not retreating..."
He cut her off in a voice barely above a whisper: "How interesting."
"A kingdom that once fought among the greats... now fears falling."
His tone wasn't mocking, but it wasn't sympathetic either. It was closer to an observation—like someone examining a torn painting and wondering if it could be repaired.
"It seems I've enjoyed this conversation very much, my lady."
Her shoulders trembled, but she didn't dare reply.
"But..." He paused for a moment, allowing the tension to sink deeper into her, then continued, "I'm not as cruel a man as you think. You've been quite useful indeed."
She held her breath, unable to believe it, not daring to believe it.
"Congratulations, my lady... your freedom."
She gasped—a sharp, sudden sound—unsure whether it was from joy or shock. Her tears flowed freely now, tears of deliverance.
Egologia smiled a barely formed smile before raising his hand slightly in the air. The crimson threads began to disappear. No sound, no creaking, no tearing. Just... vanishing.
In an instant—
"Wait! My lord, wait! Please, wait! Wait, wait!"
Her exhausted body was released, plummeting... her form collapsing vertically at a terrifying speed... Her eyes barely registered the ground rushing toward her before her breath was cut short in... scattered limbs and splattered remains, a scream that would never be completed.
Egologia stood there, whispering softly:
"Long freedom... my lady."
Then a deafening sound erupted—not just within the hall, but throughout the entire capital. It was an explosion of noise that shook the city's foundations, made the walls tremble, and caused the very air to pulse with its echo.
Egologia's eyes widened. It was not just noise; it was the announcement of a catastrophe unfolding before him—a moment of sharp realization that cut through his existence like a blade.
"Damn..." he muttered, witnessing the truth manifest as the woman had described. It was like a forced awakening in a life riddled with calamities— comprehension.
He stepped back, but he did not hesitate, then rose, his eyes blazing with a clear thought. Fire ignited in his hands; he raised his palm and unleashed bursts of flame directly at the corpse, reducing it to nothingness.
"No one here wields the fire Maga..." he said in a calm but charged voice. "And no one is capable of wielding two Magas at once... I am safe."
He leaped, firing forward. The flaming bullets tore through, struck the ground, ricocheted off the walls, and set ablaze the heavy carpets covering the floor.
He began firing wildly, without aim—only to create destruction. He was not seeking escape, nor was he seeking victory. He was establishing a catastrophe—an event that could not be erased, flames that could never be extinguished.
It was a devastating explosion, born from the combined strike between Morgan and Howard's axe. Dust rose in all directions, thick and laden with earth fragments that had been carved out by the violent impact.
Howard, immediately after the explosion, no longer cared about controlling the axe. It had drained much of his strength, and now, after gripping his fists tightly, he found himself staring at the scene before him—the two young men embedded in the ground, after his fists had fallen like two massive meteors, their weight seemingly affecting the very core of the planet.
He stood amidst the dust, his eyes tracking every movement. Then, he saw something… He did not hesitate. He shot forward directly towards it, slicing through the dense gray clouds, then suddenly—he burst out of them, but this time, he was not the attacker…
In the sky, his body was being hurled at an insane speed, and while still mid-air, a massive golden laser beam erupted beneath him, cutting through the void with ferocity.
"Damn you!"
"Yooooo come!! Morgan." [Howard]
'That monster…' [Morgan]
Howard clenched his fists, pausing in the sky for a brief moment, then—without hesitation—he launched himself again, like an arrow loosed from a fully drawn bow. He hurtled toward Morgan, colliding with him violently, marking the beginning of a ferocious aerial battle.
Punches rained down, impacts echoed through the space between them, each one like the detonation of a small star.
Something beyond all else.
Two colossal forces colliding, relentless, unwavering.
Two meteors locked in combat, in a dance unlike any other—where nothing in this world could stop them.
The king, from the heights of his elevated courtyard, was listening.
The uproar of the incident had reached him, echoing through the capital. Cries resonated in the streets, in the alleys, in the houses that trembled under the weight of the devastating collisions. Sounds of astonishment, and the fear of consequences, began to creep into his heart.
His eyes were wide, tinged with a mysterious confusion—perhaps even fear—not just of the destruction itself, but of the crushing responsibility that was collapsing onto his shoulders like a mountain on the verge of crumbling.
In that moment, he saw himself as he never had before. Not a king, not the ruler of the throne, but merely a man... a man in an inevitable fall.
Claude approached from behind, his steps steady, then bowed respectfully before raising his head to address the king.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty, may I have a moment of your time?"
The king looked at him, already knowing what he was about to say...
"Claude, my boy... Sure!."
Claude took a deep breath, then spoke in a serious tone:
"Your orders regarding my father were clear: take all of your children."
The king sighed, a hint of exhaustion appearing on his face, as if this conversation had been repeated countless times.
"Oh, Claude... I have discussed this matter with your father many times, and you know that. But sometimes, even as a king, I cannot interfere in certain family affairs... I apologize for that, Claude."
Claude lowered his head for a moment, then spoke firmly:
"No, Your Majesty, the apology is mine!. I am only ever striving to protect my kingdom, and nothing else drives me to such actions."
The king cast a long look at him, as if measuring his true worth—not as a soldier, nor as a son, but as a man carrying a legacy far greater than he realizes.
"I see that, Claude... I truly do. You will become a great man... Greater than even your father."