With one swift slash, the shadow's head flew into the air, severed clean from its body.

  Its lifeless form collapsed to the ground, motionless.

  Then—the darkness began to dissolve.

  The shadow's body ignited in black flames, burning away into nothingness before it could even touch the earth. The severed head followed, disintegrating in the same eerie fashion.

  Caelan exhaled sharply, lowering his blade.

  But before he could steady himself—

  A black sigil burned beneath his feet.

  The flames flared violently, swirling into a vortex of Etherea—

  Then—an explosion.

  A shockwave erupted from the ground, launching Caelan backward with tremendous force.

  The entire chamber held its breath.

  For a moment, silence.

  Then—a stir.

  Caelan moved.

  His fingers tightened around his sword as he pushed himself up, struggling against the pain.

  Slowly, he rose to his feet, using his blade for support. His breathing was heavy, his body marked with fresh wounds, but—he was still standing.

  From above, Cassius Vaelgrim rose from his seat.

  With a single leap, he descended from the grandstand, landing in front of his son.

  The impact of his landing sent a powerful gust of wind rippling through the hall, extinguishing some of the lingering flames.

  He gazed at Caelan for a long moment—then, a proud smile crossed his face.

  "You did well, my son."

  Caelan let out a tired chuckle, shaking his head.

  "Yeah… but I'm sure he'll say I could've done better."

  He flicked his gaze toward Revan, who was watching silently from the stands.

  Cassius smirked.

  "You still have time to train with him before leaving for the Academy. But for now—"

  He turned away, facing the gathered spectators.

  "Caelan Vaelgrim has passed the High Moon Trial!"

  His booming voice echoed through the hall.

  And then—a roar of applause.

  The crowd rose to their feet, cheering in celebration.

  Caelan stood in the center of it all, watching as House Vaelgrim's warriors, nobles, and retainers honored his victory.

  Later that night, the celebration moved to a grand banquet hall, filled with tables overflowing with food and fine drinks.

  The soft melody of a string ensemble filled the space, the musicians playing from the corner of the room.

  Everywhere, people laughed, talked, and celebrated.

  At the head of the room, Cassius and his wife stood engaged in conversation with distant relatives and high-ranking family members.

  It was a night of revelry. A night of victory.

  Yet—

  Through the glass doors leading to the balcony, one figure stood apart from it all.

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  Revan.

  He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed upon the moonlit mountains beyond the estate.

  There was a distant look in his onyx eyes—one of reflection, contemplation… perhaps something deeper.

  "You're really going to spend the whole night out here?"

  A familiar voice.

  Revan turned, finding Caelan standing at the entrance to the balcony.

  Though now dressed in Vaelgrim's formal attire, the bandages peeking from beneath his shirt betrayed the toll of his trial.

  Revan smirked.

  "No. I just don't want to fall asleep from overeating this time."

  Caelan chuckled.

  Then, after a pause—his tone shifted.

  "Tell me honestly. What did I do wrong?"

  Revan's smirk faded.

  "You did well."

  Caelan narrowed his eyes.

  "Be honest now."

  A sigh.

  Then—Revan answered.

  "You rely too much on close combat. You could've finished the fight with a ranged black flame slash. But you chose direct contact instead."

  Caelan chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his younger brother's hair.

  "Sometimes, you're too smart for your age."

  Revan rolled his eyes, leaning away from his brother's hand.

  "You're still a kid yourself."

  Caelan smirked.

  "Maybe, but next week, I'll be leaving for the Academy."

  He crossed his arms, his onyx gaze sharp with expectation.

  "And from then on, you should start preparing for your own High Moon Trial."

  At those words, Revan's expression dimmed slightly.

  His gaze shifted downward, his hands curling loosely at his sides.

  "You're still thinking about that nonsense?" Caelan frowned.

  Revan exhaled.

  "I'm not an Etherean. I can't use black fire. Do you really think Father would let me take the High Moon Trial?"

  Caelan's face darkened.

  Without warning, he grabbed Revan by the ear and twisted.

  "Ow—OW! What the hell, Caelan?!"

  "Of course, you're going to take the trial, you idiot!" Caelan scolded. "Do you really think something as trivial as that excuses you from it?"

  His grip tightened slightly.

  "It's your duty as a son of House Vaelgrim."

  Revan gritted his teeth, swatting Caelan's hand away.

  "Fine, fine! I get it! Just let go already!"

  Caelan released him, looking somewhat satisfied with himself.

  Just then—

  The doors swung open.

  A small figure stepped through, struggling under the weight of an absurdly large pile of sweet bread.

  Xander.

  His arms barely wrapped around the mountain of pastries, his face nearly hidden behind them.

  "You guys aren't leaving me out again, are you?"

  Revan raised a brow.

  "Could you at least set that down first? It's like I'm talking to a stack of bread."

  Xander peeked from behind his mountain of sweets, his onyx eyes serious.

  "I have to eat a lot so I can be as strong as Brother Caelan!"

  Before either of them could respond—

  A loud announcement echoed from the castle courtyard.

  "King Alistair Marvilion has arrived!"

  The three brothers immediately stepped toward the balcony's edge, their gazes locking onto the scene below.

  A luxurious carriage rolled through the castle gates, its frame adorned with the crest of House Marvilion and the banner of Teleria Kingdom.

  The horses were flawless, their coats pristine.

  A squadron of Telerian royal guards followed behind, their armor reflecting the moonlight in perfect symmetry.

  Then—the king emerged.

  A man with golden hair so lustrous it shimmered like woven silk stepped down from the carriage.

  His presence was imposing yet regal, his every movement exuding authority.

  Beside him walked his queen—graceful, poised, her long silver hair cascading like a waterfall of light.

  Her features were striking, her resemblance to the Solfyr lineage unmistakable.

  "Who's that?" Xander whispered.

  Caelan didn't take his eyes off the king.

  "That's King Alistair Marvilion. He's the Minister of Military for the Arcadian Empire."

  He crossed his arms.

  "Before he became king, he was a member of the Divine Vanguard. He crushed multiple rebellions that could have torn the Empire apart."

  Xander nodded slowly.

  "Okay."

  Revan and Caelan exchanged glances.

  They both knew that "okay" meant Xander didn't understand a single word of what was just said.

  Caelan refocused on the royal entourage.

  "What do you think he's here for?"

  Revan's gaze sharpened.

  He pointed toward a man trailing behind the royal couple—a servant carrying a large, ornate gift box.

  "See that? Looks like a gift." He smirked. "If I had to guess, it's probably for you."

  Caelan raised an eyebrow.

  "But that raises a better question… why isn't that annoying prince here?"

  Revan leaned casually against the railing, a smug grin forming.

  "He's only annoying to you because Lady Brielle Sylthorn spent all night talking to him at your birthday banquet."

  Caelan stiffened and grabbed Revan's ear again.

  "Shut up!"

  "Ouch… ouch… I'm sorry!"

  "The three brothers of the night—chirping away at this hour, are we?"

  The three turned toward the voice. Standing nearby was a boy dressed in formal Telerian royal attire, his golden hair gleaming under the soft banquet lights.

  "Prince Theodore," Caelan greeted, bowing respectfully.

  "Lord Caelan," the prince replied, returning the gesture with equal formality.

  "You'll be my junior at the Academy this year," Theodore continued, a confident smirk on his lips. "Looking forward to seeing you there."

  "The pleasure is all mine," Caelan responded smoothly.

  "Yeah, right," Revan muttered under his breath.

  Caelan elbowed him in the ribs.

  Just then, the glass doors of the banquet hall swung open. A small girl, no older than six, stepped out. Her golden hair was neatly tied back, her delicate features and radiant golden eyes unmistakably marking her as a Marvilion.

  "We have to wait for Father and Mother before entering," she chided gently, her tone carrying a natural authority.

  Caelan and Revan instinctively turned toward her, momentarily caught off guard by her graceful presence. Meanwhile, Xander was far too busy stuffing sweet breads into his mouth to notice anything else.

  Then, the golden-eyed girl shifted her gaze toward Caelan.

  Next, she turned to Revan—

  And stopped.

  Their eyes locked.

  Something unspoken passed between them, something neither of them could name.

  And for the first time—

  The world stood still.