The masked woman stood still, her posture unreadable—yet not a single opening could be seen in her stance.

  “You were exiled,” she said calmly.

  “I promised I would leave them unharmed,” Oliver replied.

  Without a word, the woman reached behind her back and drew a slender blade. It had no guard. The hilt was square, the blade narrow and straight—almost like a polished steel needle.

  Suddenly, that same platinum gleam of Etherea ignited around her hand, then spread seamlessly across the blade she held.

  With her other hand, she pulled out a small, rectangular blue Ether Stone, encased in copper—a rare device.

  She tossed it toward Oliver.

  The flames in Oliver’s left hand vanished. He caught the stone effortlessly.

  “One-way trip,” she said. “Sunderstone Island.”

  Oliver stared at the device in his palm, expression shifting. Then his gaze lifted back to her. A faint smile played on his lips—but his eyes were heavy with something else.

  “You’ve been holding onto this all this time?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied, her tone flat.

  Oliver gave a dry chuckle, shaking his head. Then, wordlessly, he slid his sword back into its sheath. The Ethereal glow across his arm faded like mist in the morning sun.

  He focused his energy into the Ether Stone.

  A glowing runic circle appeared beneath his feet—filled with intricate symbols and shifting light.

  He turned to Revan.

  “I expect great things from you, Revan,” he said with a small smile.

  Revan blinked. “How do you know my na—?”

  Before he could finish, a burst of brilliant white light erupted from the circle below Oliver.

  In the next instant, the light swallowed him whole—and he was gone.

  A soft exhale slipped from behind the woman’s dragon mask.

  She quietly sheathed her blade, and the platinum glow of her Ether Armament faded from her hand like mist retreating from morning light.

  Without a word, she stepped forward, her boots light against the scorched floor.

  Revan instinctively tightened his hold on Luna. His entire body lit with Etherea, a white-silver aura flowing across his frame in silent warning.

  The woman paused a few steps away, then slowly reached up and removed her mask.

  Revan froze.

  Then—his eyes lit up, his lips parting in disbelief and joy.

  “Aunt Vanya!” he cried.

  Luna stirred in his arms, her body shifting weakly. Her eyelids fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Revan’s smiling face, so close—so warm.

  Being in his arms… was strangely comforting. Peaceful.

  A soft, unfamiliar ache bloomed in her chest. Longing. Safety.

  Then reality settled in—and with it, heat flushed across her cheeks.

  Her heart pounded wildly.

  Vanya glanced down, her expression amused. Luna was clearly awake now, her red face half-buried in Revan’s chest, trying to hide.

  Vanya chuckled softly. “Well, look who’s awake.”

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  Revan looked down, meeting Luna’s wide, flustered eyes. His smile grew brighter.

  With a gentle laugh, he hugged her closer—relieved, overjoyed.

  Then he pulled back, hands on her shoulders, and extended a hand forward, still grinning.

  “Let’s go outside,” Vanya said with a soft smile. “Oh—and hold her hand. We wouldn’t want to lose her.”

  “Okay,” Revan replied instantly, reaching out and gently taking Luna’s hand in his.

  Vanya smirked, glancing at Luna before giving her a playful wink.

  Luna quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the corridor around them. Her face flushed, but she said nothing.

  Vanya approached the glowing parchment. She took it carefully, the light pulsing against her fingers, then rolled it with practiced ease and slipped it beneath her cloak—tucking it into the hidden compartment of her black armor.

  Then she turned toward the corridor, leading the way. Revan and Luna followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing faintly in the ruined hall.

  Eventually, they reached a large exit—an ornate double door scorched by flame and battle.

  As the doors creaked open, bright sunlight poured through the gap, hitting their faces with sudden intensity. Both Revan and Luna instinctively raised their arms to shield their eyes, blinking against the brilliance after so long underground.

  Outside, on the steps just beyond the doors, sat six masked figures, each wearing a different animal motif:

  Lion. Wolf. Bear. Ram. Snake. Boar.

  They turned toward the sound of the door, their masks catching the light.

  Behind them, the aftermath of a battle was unmistakable—dozens of bodies lay strewn across the ground, masked soldiers lifeless in the dirt, their armor scorched and battered. The inner walls of the base were crumbling, shattered by the force of overwhelming power.

  Vanya stepped forward and placed her dragon mask back over her face.

  “Situation?” she asked, her tone crisp.

  “All clear,” said the figure with the lion mask. “King Valior Gildarion’s troops will arrive any minute.”

  Vanya turned and knelt in front of Revan.

  “We’ll be leaving soon,” she said gently. “But we’ll stick around… just to make sure you both get home safely.”

  “Why?” Revan asked, brows furrowed.

  Vanya gave a light laugh. “It’s complicated. Let’s just say… it’s better this way.”

  Then, her voice softened playfully. “But—you two can keep a secret, right?”

  Revan nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. Luna nodded too, her expression calm and composed.

  Vanya rose to her feet, ruffling Revan’s hair fondly as she stood.

  “Until we meet again.”

  Suddenly, Etherea flared around the seven masked figures, surrounding their bodies in radiant white aura. Then, in a blur of motion, each of them leapt away—vanishing in different directions, moving too fast for Revan’s eyes to follow.

  Silence returned.

  Revan and Luna turned toward the shattered main gate, now blown open completely.

  In the distance, two riders approached on horseback. One was a young boy, around Revan’s age. The other, a tall young man in polished armor.

  Behind them came a flood of soldiers—two full companies, two hundred strong, their banners fluttering in the wind.

  As the vanguard entered the ruined base, the two riders dismounted and strode toward Revan and Luna. Fifty soldiers followed closely, forming into a precise formation behind them. The rest remained stationed outside the perimeter walls.

  Revan’s eyes scanned their armor.

  Each soldier wore a polished cuirass marked with a sigil: a circle within a triangle—the symbol of gold and mines, representing the wealth and legacy of House Gildarion, one of the ten Great Houses of the Arcadian Empire.

  The two figures at the front stopped just a few feet away.

  The younger one, a boy about Revan’s age, had deep maroon hair and eyes that were bright like molten lava.

  The other was a young adult man, tall and confident, with shoulder-length black hair and a noble bearing. Both wore the shining armor of House Gildarion.

  The black-haired man stepped forward and offered a respectful bow to Revan and Luna.

  “My Lord, My Lady—I am Darian of House Ferros,” he said with calm dignity. Then, with a graceful gesture, he motioned to the boy beside him. “And this is Prince Richard of House Gildarion.”

  Revan returned the bow, placing his right hand over his heart.

  “I am Revan of House Vaelgrim.”

  Luna followed his lead, bowing politely.

  “Luna of House Marvilion.”

  “I thought as much,” Darian said with a warm smile. His eyes scanned the ruined courtyard. “Do either of you know what happened here?”

  Revan shook his head. “No. When we got outside, it was already like this.”

  “Is there anyone still inside?”

  Revan’s expression sharpened, as if suddenly recalling something.

  “There’s one man still unconscious down below. I think he was the one trying to kidnap Luna.”

  “Lord Cervarin,” Luna added quietly.

  Darian turned his head slightly, addressing the soldiers behind him. “First and Second Squad—secure the base.”

  Immediately, two columns of ten soldiers each broke formation and advanced into the ruins with swift discipline.

  As they moved out, Prince Richard stepped forward, brushing past Revan without a glance. He reached for Luna’s hand, gently taking it from Revan’s grasp. His eyes were locked on hers, ignoring the boy standing beside her.

  “This is the first time we’ve met,” he said with a soft smile. “I’m Richard… your future husband.”