We ran.

  Kyle and I dashed through the halls, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. Neither of us spoke—we both feared what we might find.

  When we reached Ravel’s chamber, I froze.

  The air was thick, practically vibrating with raw energy. A violent aura of soul power pulsed from the room—so overwhelming it distorted the very space around it. If it kept growing… it would consume the entire kingdom.

  We weren’t the first to arrive.

  Elders, royal guards, and even my father stood gathered, all wearing expressions of confusion and fear. No one dared step closer.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Kyle, my voice cracking.

  His eyes were fixed on the doorway, face pale. “The seal is breaking,” he whispered. “The dragon spirit is awakening.”

  My breath caught. “Isn’t that… good? Isn’t that what we needed?”

  Kyle shook his head grimly.

  “If it breaks here—now—the spirit will fully awaken. And even one uncontrolled wave of its power could level this entire kingdom.”

  Terror gripped me. “There has to be a way to stop it. Can we re-seal it?”

  Kyle nodded, though his jaw was clenched.

  “It’s not fully awake yet. This is only a fraction of its true power. I’ll try to hold it back.”

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  A fraction?

  I stared into the storm of energy pouring from my brother’s chamber, barely able to stay on my feet. That was a small amount?

  Kyle stepped forward, his spirit energy flaring. He rose into the air, lifted by his own power, then began weaving a complex and ancient sealing technique. Glowing sigils and runes shimmered in the sky, swirling into a massive golden seal more radiant and terrifying than anything I’d ever seen.

  And then he cast it—down toward Ravel.

  The energy clashed in the air like thunder meeting fire. For a heartbeat, the whole world went silent… and then the oppressive force vanished, like a breath finally exhaled.

  The soul power was gone.

  Both Kyle and Ravel crashed to the ground. The crowd rushed toward Kyle, but I ran straight to my brother. He lay unconscious, sweat glistening on his skin, blue hair sticking to his forehead. His cheeks burned with fever, yet there was a strange calm to his face—as if something deep within him had been released.

  Kyle was already standing again. Even drained, he carried the weight of his power like a true warrior. And yet, he didn’t check on himself. He went straight to my brother—the boy everyone once called weak.

  I turned to Kyle. “Do we need to heal him?”

  He shook his head. “No. His body is adapting. With his power, he’ll recover quickly.”

  And just like that, Ravel stirred. Slowly, his eyes opened—those same calm eyes, but now… something inside them blazed. Before anyone could speak, a flood of questions came crashing in from the gathered crowd.

  “What happened?”

  “Was it a forbidden technique?”

  “Why now?”

  Kyle ignored them all. Gently, he lifted Ravel and placed him in his bed, checking his pulse like a guardian. Then he stood tall before the crowd.

  “It was a mistake,” he said calmly. “A technique gone wrong. Nothing to be concerned about.”

  It was a lie—an intentional one.

  Because Kyle knew that the truth would send shockwaves across the kingdom. If word spread that the Flame Dragon Spirit had awakened—even partially—then Erwin Alther would come. And Ravel… was now humanity’s only hope.

  But of course, the kingdom didn’t see that.

  People whispered cruelly.

  “He’s still trying to regain his cultivation?”

  “Pathetic.”

  “He can’t accept he’s powerless.”

  As their words stung the air, I scanned the crowd for her—Ya Fei. Always eager to be present when Ravel was mocked.

  And then I saw her.

  But something was different.

  She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t sneering. She stood frozen, her eyes wide in terror. And then… her hands began to move, forming signs—a signal technique.

  I stepped forward, but Kyle was already ahead of me. His eyes locked on her, voice razor-sharp.

  “She’s sending a message. To Queen Riva.”

  I froze.

  A traitor?

  In one swift, blinding movement, Kyle drew his blade. The next second—her head fell to the floor. Gasps filled the air as people recoiled in horror, struggling to comprehend what just happened.

  Kyle turned to me, his voice low and urgent.

  “We’re in danger.”

  As if summoned by those very words, the sky above us darkened. A sinister soul power began to gather, twisting like a black storm cloud.

  Then, from the depths of that darkness, a name escaped Kyle’s lips—quiet, haunted, and heavy.

  “…Erwin Alther.”