Rewind the clock a few days.
An ostentatious fortress stood firm on the outskirts of Solfea, a vast plain bordering the Black Dragon Order's Twilight Keep. The Palace of Eldorin, more commonly referred to as Fort Eldorin, stood as a testament to the power and unity of the world's most famous Order. A newly built bastion that exuded pressure of excellence and strength, its construction's sheer scale and grandeur commanded awe.
Its walls, forged from pale-white stone quarried from the sacred cliffs of Eldros, gleamed beneath the sun, unmarred by age or time. Ornate buttresses and towering spires stretched skyward, their peaks crowned with gold and silver banners that caught the wind and displayed the sigil of the Order. The banners, woven from enchanted fabric, never frayed or dulled, symbolised eternal vigilance.
Inside, the Great Hall stretched wide, its freshly polished floors gleaming like a sea of obsidian. Massive chandeliers of gold and crystal hung from the vaulted ceilings, their countless candles casting a warm and regal glow over the chamber. Grand staircases of white marble ascended toward the many wings of the palace, their railings filigreed with patterns of ivy and roses, a tribute to the ideals of both strength and grace.
Though it exuded grandeur, make no mistake—it was a newly built fortress, barely a year old, equipped with state-of-the-art facilities at every turn. Vast training zones allowed superhuman feats without risking the destruction of their surroundings. Enchanted chambers accelerated recovery and enhanced mana accumulation. Divine sanctuaries could heal wounds beyond mortal limits—even regenerating severed limbs. And interwoven with it all was cutting-edge technology, so advanced that no other facility could even dream of matching it.
They were all present in Fort Eldorin.
The Council Chamber, the heart of the palace, was the pièce de résistance of the fortress. Its walls bore no signs of wear, and the enchanted mosaics and frescoes were still vivid and untouched by time. The newly set stained-glass windows allowed shafts of colored light to paint the chamber's floor in hues of deep crimson, royal blue, and sunlit gold.
Echoes of Knights and Magicians training could be heard throughout the entire palace, yet, none of those noises made their way into the Council Chambers. And the reason for which was simple.
No one should disrupt the executives of Eldorin, mainly when they were about to make an important decision that could change the trajectory of the world.
And that was precisely what was going to happen…
A deep voice, thick with discontent, rumbled through the Council Chamber. From his seat at the advisor's chair, Horus fixed a searing gaze on the elegantly dressed man across from him. His golden eyes burned with fierce intensity, their heat so palpable that, if looks could kill, his opponent would have been suffocated on the spot. Yet, despite the weight of that fiery glare, the man remained composed, calmly repeating himself once more.
"The Demon Cult has shown movements in Espadavale." Get full chapters from novel-fire.net
Bane Vallen wasn't in the least threatened by Horus's commanding tone. As the leader of Echelon, he was the foremost skilled spy in the Hyades Republic. Trained in espionage and assassination, he knew how to keep calm in all situations, so even when faced against a Pillar Knight with Six Suns condensed, the spymaster didn't flinch for a moment.
"Espadavale? Isn't that the hometown of the Sword Saint?"
"Someone has done his research."
Bane chuckled as he complimented the young man who interjected. Draped in opulent garb, the magician blended grace and luxury. His robes, woven from enchanted silk, shimmered with an ethereal glow, shifting between deep midnight blue and royal purple as they caught the light. Intricate golden embroidery traced celestial patterns along the hems, forming subtly shifting constellations as if alive with latent magic.
"It's nothing," Johann said while looking to the left. "I recall the beautiful damsel telling it to me once."
"Awww, cold as always."
"Do you want to have your face rearranged?"
The woman that Johann addressed snapped in a curt and impatient voice. Her poise combined a mixture of an untamed Amazonian and a graceful noble lady. Her grey hair, like spun silver, was tied unkemptly in a bun, untamed yet elegant. Reinforced with enchanted thread, her black leather tunic hugged her form without hindering movement. A deep green sash, embroidered with silver filigree, rested at her hip, knotted over a belt lined with compartments—each holding an item pouch, a dagger, and a wooden stick that could be extended into an enchanted bow.
She was a newcomer to Eldorin, yet she was granted a seat at the council table. Some may say it was favouritism, but her accomplishments spoke for themselves. Once the leading mercenary and Demon Hunter in Hyades, Venya Vortessa had carved a reputation for herself in blood.
Even though she was only in her late twenties, she had already eliminated dozens of powerful Demons. Known as the Elven Sniper, her predatory yellowish-brown eyes could stalk prey for eternity. Also, her arrows were said to have never missed their targets, even against foes that were far stronger than her.
In [Bright], Venya would eventually be known as the God Archer and played a pivotal role in Leon's journey to stop the Calamities—which was why she was personally scouted to join Eldorin and even got a seat on the Council.
"Now, now… Calm yourself Vivi."
Ellahan came in with a warm smile and stopped the duo from escalating their argument. In the past three years, she had matured as the Saintess and her calm and pristine demeanour was now enough to charm anyone who looked at her. Shedding her baby fat was one thing, but she also gave an approachable yet sanctified atmosphere.
"We can rearrange the pervert's face later. Let's focus on the meeting."
"... is that what a Saintess should say? Didn't you take an oath not to harm others?"
"I'm sorry, perverts aren't part of my oath."
Over the past three years, Ellahan had slowly come out of her shell, and without the Holy Church constantly breathing down her neck, the twenty-year-old could be her authentic self. Particularly among the high-ranking executives of Eldorin, she became more loose-mouthed and often cursed at others… well, she mainly cursed at Johann due to his tendency to hit on any girl that moves.
"How scary! Leon, Lord Hero! Save me from the corrupted Saintess!"
"Johann… Please, this isn't the time nor the place."
Leon flared his nose with annoyance. If there was anyone among the members of Eldorin who changed the most, it was without question, the Hero himself, Leon Bright. Growing to 1.85 metres in height, his presence commanding yet untested, like a blade freshly forged but not yet tempered by the fires of war. At just twenty years old, the Leon no longer bore any youthful hesitation. He was filled with an unshakable confidence and his blue eyes were filled with destined resolve.
Perhaps he took notes from his idol and mentor, the young man now possessed a mature authority, even without speaking a word. But at the same time, he retained his kind and compassionate atmosphere, which gave Johann the courage to tease the younger boy somewhat.
Nevertheless, the Amaris heir and future Archwizard knew when to pull back.
"Haha, my apologies… Bane, you were saying?"
"Espadavale. The Demon Cult has been spotted scouting that area." As if used to tangents like these, Bane immediately resumed his explanation. "My agents deem that there is enough interest to warrant caution. My recommendation is to dispatch a squad over immediately."
"... it's not that easy."
Horus replied with a prominent frown.
"Espadavale is under the protection of the Sword Saint. While he had gone mad and abandoned his sword, he's still a formidable foe. If Eldorin, nay, the Solaris House sends someone there without an invitation, we may face the wrath of the Sword Saint."
The tale of the Sword Saint was as legendary as it was tragic. He had climbed to the top of the mountain, and became the Lord Protector of the Realm. He proved to the world that a regular human could defeat Knights blessed by Dragons and Magicians that had inherited arcane arts. And yet, when he reached the pinnacle… he threw it all away.
People say he went mad.
No one knew what went wrong. He became obsessed with chasing an unobtainable dream and abandoned his sword, vanishing from the public eye.
But even if he had turned mad, the monster who stood at the pinnacle of the world still retained his power. If Eldorin went into Espadavale without any permits, they may trigger the ire of the Sword Saint.
"Let's get Alrock to visit him, perhaps we can…"
"No, that's not a good idea."
Before Horus could suggest the Solaris Lord to ask for a favour, an etherally hollow voice interjected.
The woman moved with an unnatural grace, as if the world shifted around her, bending to her presence. At just twenty-two, her beauty was both otherworldly and haunting, a perfect blend of youth and ancient mystery.
White hair, as pure and flawless as freshly fallen snow, cascaded down her back in soft waves, catching the light like strands of silver moonlight. It framed her face delicately, strikingly contrasting the vibrant red eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire, as though they held the secrets of forgotten realms.
Her skin was pale, almost translucent, giving her an ethereal, fragile quality—yet this fragility held a quiet, overwhelming power. There was a soft luminosity to her, as though she were constantly bathed in the glow of moonlight, and her every step left a faint shimmer in the air, like stardust floating in her wake.
She was the mistress of Eldorin and many considered her to be the true leader of the famous Order—the Princess of Elune and history's greatest Summoner—Yue Elune.
"Grandpa Alrock's presence would only serve to aggravate the Sword Saint. Sir Horus, you know it better than anyone else."
Horus remained quiet, both in agreement and shock. He wondered how this young lady knew of the troubled relationship that Alrock and the Sword Saint shared, as it wasn't public knowledge. But Yue wasn't one to divulge her secrets. Instead, she looked to her right, at the head of the council table.
"Don't worry, we knew this day would come sooner or later."
Seated at the helm of the table was a young man of just twenty-two. Yet, his age wasn't a reflection of his commanding presence and nigh-unbeatable exterior. Black hair, cut short and neatly styled, framed a face that could have belonged to a statue—sharp, squarish features that conveyed youth and authority.
His hair was dark as the midnight sky, its jet-black hue contrasting vividly with the piercing golden eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. Those eyes, fierce and unwavering, held the weight of countless battles, as if they could see through both man and foe alike, judging all who stood before him.
Every inch of him radiated strength. His physique was powerful—muscles honed by years of rigorous training, each movement purposeful and deliberate. His broad shoulders and muscular frame made him appear larger than life, his every motion filled with controlled might. He was strong enough to crush his enemies and his presence alone could suffocate an ox.
There was an undeniable aura of dominance about him. His quiet but forceful presence demanded respect and submission from all who crossed his path. His posture was unyielding, and he sat tall with his chin high—a force of nature, and the man who commanded all of Eldorin.
"Bane, thank you for bringing this to our attention."
Amon replied apathetically as if not surprised by the news. His muscular arms folded together as he gave Yue the side-eye.
"Sword Saint… You know where he is, right?"
"Of course," Yue replied with a sultry smile. "I wouldn't be your wife if I couldn't do something as simple as that."
"... we're not married yet."
"Why deny the inevitable?"
While many things have changed over the three years, one thing remained constant. Yue would sexually harass Amon at every opportunity she got.