[Flashback Ends]
Jacob stared at the board. His hand trembled.
"You think I killed them," he said. "You've hated me all this time."
Karlos's expression was unreadable. "Didn't you?"
"No," Jacob whispered. "I tried to save them. I failed."
The wind howled beyond the garden. In the distance, a tower of the Uaan Sect collapsed under the combined assault of Wolf 1 and Wolf 4.
Kell turned away, swallowing her emotions. The Butler, silent behind Karlos, tightened his gloved hands. He had known Karlos for years — and had never seen him look so torn between vengeance and grief.
Karlos moved a piece. "Check."
Jacob looked up, eyes wet.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Karlos asked. "Why didn't you come back?"
Jacob's voice cracked. "Because you were gone. Because I didn't deserve to."
Another explosion in the distance. Daoists and Wolves clashed mid-air, their battle sending tremors that rippled through the tranquil garden.
Karlos studied Jacob carefully. "Do you still think peace can be found in this game?"
"No," Jacob said. "But maybe truth."
Karlos leaned back in his chair. "Then answer me one last thing."
Jacob nodded.
"Did you… love them?"
Jacob's gaze turned to the cherry blossoms overhead.
"With all my heart."
Silence.
---
Karlos stood and gently knocked over his black king.
"That's enough chess."
The piece fell with a faint clack, echoing louder than the distant explosions. For a heartbeat, the war outside felt impossibly far away — like another world.
Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but Karlos held up a hand.
His voice, once controlled, now cracked with something deeper — not rage, but sorrow.
"But wait... are you fooling me?"
His fingers trembled as he stepped back from the table.
"Why should I believe you?"
Karlos's breath grew shallow. "If you knew everything… then why didn't you tell me?"
Jacob said nothing. What could he say?
Karlos staggered. His thoughts scattered like blossoms in a storm. He clutched his chest, as though trying to hold his own heart together. Logic slipped away. Memories flashed, collided. Faces of the dead. Flames. Jacob's voice. Silence.
You have to trust him…
A whisper. Not from the world, but within. Faint. Familiar. A voice from the past — a promise made under stars long gone.
He is always right…
There's a reason for his silence…
Kell stepped forward, but the Butler raised a hand — gently. Let him break, the gesture said. Let him feel.
Then, the wind stopped.
Just like that.
The cherry blossoms halted mid-fall, frozen in air like suspended time. A silence unlike any before swept across the battlefield.
It was not the quiet of peace, nor the stillness of fear. It was something divine.
High above, the clouds shifted — not pushed by wind, but pulled apart as if by will.
A golden shimmer trickled from the sky like spilled sunlight, soft at first, then blinding. Dust, no — stardust, it seemed — sparkled in the air, falling like blessings upon scorched earth.
Across the shattered plains, soldiers paused mid-strike. Daoists, Wolves, Elders — all lifted their eyes.
The legends whispered it might happen one day.
When sorrow reached the heavens… a Watcher would descend.
And now, that prophecy walked among them.
Bathed in divine light, the figure rose slowly, as though unfolding from the very fabric of the sky.
He moved like dawn breaking — not abrupt, but inevitable. Calm, radiant, eternal.
Tall and regal, the being's face bore no malice, only aching wisdom. His skin shimmered like moonstone. His eyes — molten gold, ageless and infinite — held lifetimes of grief and mercy.
Hair white as starlight flowed past his shoulders. From his back stretched wings not feathered, but woven from light itself — bending color, bending reality. The air shimmered around them.
His robes rippled like mist over a sacred lake — ever-shifting threads of twilight, starlight, and dreams.
Even time bowed. Even gravity stilled.
Karlos stared, breath caught in his throat.
Jacob slowly rose to his feet, eyes wide. "It can't be…"
Kell dropped to one knee without knowing why. The Butler's eyes watered as his gloved hand pressed to his chest.
The figure said nothing. He didn't need to.
The mere act of standing there was enough.
Then, softly — like the first note of a forgotten song — the angel turned his gaze to the garden, and his golden eyes met Karlos's.
And Karlos, for the first time in years, felt small.
Not in weakness, but in humility. In presence. In the face of something vast and kind and terrible.
He took a step forward.
"…Who are you?" he whispered.
The angel smiled — gently. Sadly.
And somewhere inside Karlos… something broke.
Not from pain.
But from release…
The golden stardust still lingered in the air, catching the fractured light of a broken world. The angel stepped forward, his luminous wings folding with serene grace as he neared Karlos.
"I am Frazaris," the figure said, voice resonant yet gentle. "But once, I was called Detric — the man you remember."
Karlos stiffened. Jacob's eyes felt something like remembering old days.
"I was sent to Earth by the gods," Frazaris continued. "Not to interfere, but to delay what was written. One goddess — gifted with foresight — saw this war, this devastation… all born from a single night. She pleaded with the heavens. And though the gods are bound by destiny, they allowed me to descend."
He paused.
"But Earth was sealed. A spiritual barrier kept the divine away. I could not descend as a celestial being. So, I came as a man. A sliver of my power hidden — just enough to survive."
His eyes turned distant.
"That night, under the stars, I landed. I saw them — men in black robes, killing someone at the city's edge. When I arrived, he was already dead. A spy. Sent to uncover the truth about the orphanage — the same truth I sought."
Softly, Frazaris said, "I buried him on a quiet mountain slope. Took his identity. Entered the city."
He turned to Jacob.
"I met him soon after. A boy with sharp eyes… and a scarred soul. When I asked where he was from, he said, 'The orphanage.' That's when the plan began."
Karlos stared, old chains breaking one by one in his mind.
"But… you were an angel," he whispered. "Why didn't you just stop it? Why didn't you save us?"
Frazaris turned, sorrow flooding his gaze — ancient and endless.
"Because I couldn't. My power was sealed. I was just a man. Weak. Mortal. I hid what little essence I had to avoid detection. I tried, Karlos… but even angels cannot defy fate. We can only hope to delay it."
He looked to the skies.
"The gods are not rulers. They are witnesses. Even they cannot rewrite the story of the universe. They are bound… as are we all."
Silence fell.
Karlos dropped to his knees. "I misunderstood everything. I thought Jacob… I thought he—"
He turned to his old friend.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking. "Jacob… I'm sorry."
Jacob's eyes welled. "I failed too. I should've come back. I thought… I wasn't worthy."
They embraced. Childhood grief melted into adult forgiveness. Kell turned away, his shoulders trembling. Even the Butler bowed his head.
Frazaris's voice rose again.
"Jacob. It's time. Release the girl."
Jacob closed his eyes, sending a silent command(telepathy).
Far below the sect, in a crimson-fogged chamber...
The Forgotten Vein — Dao Sect's Hidden Chamber...
Buried deep beneath the main sanctum of the Dao Sect, beyond sealed corridors laced with suppression glyphs and illusion arrays, lies a subterranean prison known only to a select few elders: The Forgotten Vein.
Carved into the roots of the mountain itself, the chamber is encased in Voidforged Stone, a rare mineral that nullifies spiritual energy, Dao resonance, and even thoughts of escape. Its walls pulse faintly with an ancient rhythm, not mechanical, but alive, as though the mountain watches those trapped within.
The chamber is not grand—just a single, circular cavern with no doors, no windows, and no visible means of entry or exit. Prisoners are transported in and out through spatial folding, performed only by a Grand Elder who holds the Key Seal, a sigil etched into their soul flame. No other passage exists.
The floor is inscribed with a Suppression Mandala: a living formation that drains the prisoner's Qi, memories of cultivation paths, and even the will to resist. Time here flows oddly. Days stretch into weeks, or collapse into seconds, making the mind unstable and escape planning impossible.
There is no torture here—only silence, stillness, and the crushing weight of being forgotten. Those imprisoned often lose their sense of self long before they ever hope for release.
To the outside world, The Forgotten Vein does not exist.
In that Jiya, Ru, and Luo lay unconscious, bound by spiritual runes. Poisonous mist curled around them like a sleeping serpent.
But now — the fog dispersed. Disciples rushed in, disabling the array, awakened them. Jiya stirred, eyes fluttering open as a hand reached for her.
Back in the garden, Karlos turned to Frazaris.
"After you met Jacob… what happened?"
Jacob answered.
"We went to Lavya City — the hometown of the man Frazaris had impersonated. Bought a small house. Lived quietly. He raised me like a father. Gave me what I never had."
"After the world changed," Jacob continued, "he revealed who he truly was. I was terrified… but he explained everything — the gods, the orphanage, the plan. He told me to build a sanctuary. The Uaan Sect."
"He gave me ancient scrolls, artifacts, martial techniques. One day, he came to me and said, 'Take Jiya. Not to start a war — but to protect her.' Then… the gods summoned him. They had another task."
Jacob lowered his voice. "He said, 'If war comes, fight. But do not die.'"
Karlos's breath caught.
"Why Jiya?"
Frazaris hesitated. His eyes turned skyward, seeking permission.
Then he spoke.
"Because of… Element L37. Or as you call it—"
He paused.
"—It is not an element. It is a key."
The wind stirred.
"A key," Frazaris said, "not to treasure or knowledge… but to an ancient prison. One that holds something the gods cannot destroy. Only contain."
The earth seemed to hold its breath.
"And Jiya," he whispered, "carries its last fragment within her soul."...