(Meanwhile Inside Skyshard City, The Third Elder’s POV)
For the better part of twenty five years, ever since the Cult Elders retreated into the Time Stilled World under Leo’s new regime, the Third Elder had lived like a decorative relic rather than a ruler, as the influence he once wielded over cities, people, and military commands had been stripped from him piece by piece until nothing remained but a hollow title with no teeth and no authority.
Chaosbringer had orchestrated the dismantling with surgical precision, while Leo’s silent endorsement ensured that not a single Elder could protest without being crushed beneath the shadow of the Shadow Dragon’s rise, leaving the Third Elder to observe helplessly as the power structure he had built over centuries collapsed into dust around him.
Yet despite losing his influence, he did not lose his ambition, for deep inside him there lurked a patient serpent that refused to die, coiling tighter over the decades as he waited for the slightest opening, any sliver of opportunity that might slip through the cracks of Chaosbringer’s tight surveillance.
He had always been a Righteous Faction asset, long before Leo was even born, long before Commander Charles’ death, long before the Cult had crowned their newest Dragon Aegon Veyr, as it was he who leaked classified council decisions to the Righteous Faction each year, and it was he who betrayed the previous Dragon Noah by revealing his location during a time of war.
However, after retreating into the Stilled World, that connection he had with the Righteous Faction was severed entirely, as for the first time in his life he found himself trapped, monitored, and powerless, surrounded by devoted loyalists who reported even his smallest requests to Chaosbringer as though he were a dangerous prisoner rather than an esteemed Elder.
It took him twenty five long years of suffocating silence before he could finally carve open a hole in the net cast around him, as he played the long game and cultivated fresh assets from the ground up by raising young orphan boys like a benevolent guardian, guiding them into professions that would eventually place them in strategic positions beneficial to him.
One such asset was a young boy he had groomed since the age of three, who had eventually become a Cult Pilot trusted with flying in and out of the Stilled World twice a day to relay messages to the outside world.
As it was through him that the Third Elder finally managed to make contact with the Righteous Faction once again.
The poor boy, who trusted him like a father, had no idea that the messaging relay he slipped onto the craft each day was not for a Cult mission, nor for any noble purpose or the greater good, but rather for contacting the Righteous Faction, as the Third Elder used him like a pawn without hesitation.
Once that connection was restored, the Third Elder re-established communication with his old acquaintances in the Righteous Faction one message at a time, until the channel fully reopened and began flowing freely once more.
Slowly but surely, information once again moved between the Righteous Faction and the hidden traitor living comfortably within the Cult’s most secure world, as the Third Elder learned of Leo’s attacks on fortified Righteous planets, the unexpected return of Soron, and many other developments that had been concealed from him for far too long.
In return, he informed the Righteous Faction about the technological advancements the Cult had achieved, how they were thriving within the Stilled World, and how an inevitable war was approaching, as even without access to top-secret military details he remained perceptive enough to read the shifting currents and warn his counterparts accordingly.
"These fluctuations in the air I felt today... it’s highly likely that Skyshard has broken through to Monarch."
The Third Elder whispered, deciding that this would be the message he sent out today, as he picked up an encrypted crystal and spoke softly into the recorder before activating the hidden relay embedded within the pilot’s shuttle, allowing the message to ride out unnoticed alongside his asset’s craft, only to be delivered to his counterparts once the shuttle exited the Stilled World and re-entered the wider universe.
"You have made a big mistake by making us Elders toothless, Skyshard.
For it is not just me who is ready to betray the Cult now, but rather many more among the council who are prepared to join my side.
With Soron back, I simply need to start stirring trouble for you, for if the true Cult Master has returned, then you no longer possess even an ounce of legitimate authority as the temporary Sect Master.
And once that becomes public knowledge... we can demand an audience with our Lord."
The Third Elder mused, as he began quietly assembling the resurgence of the council inside his own mind, weaving together the threads of suspicion, resentment, and ambition that had simmered among the Elders for decades without an outlet.
He knew very well that Chaosbringer had crushed their influence, dismantled their networks, stripped away their forces, and reduced them to ceremonial figureheads, yet he also knew that old power never truly disappeared but merely lay dormant, waiting for the right spark to reignite the flames of rebellion.
All he needed now was a catalyst.
And Soron’s return was that catalyst!
If the true Cult Master lived, then the Elders had every right—no, the obligation—to reassert themselves as the governing council beneath him, allowing the Third Elder to resurrect the power they once commanded while painting his actions as a righteous correction rather than treason.
He envisioned rallying the remaining Elders one by one, whispering doubts about Chaosbringer’s intentions, feeding fears that Leo would continue to monopolize authority, and promising them restoration of their lost privileges once the hierarchy was rebalanced under Soron’s banner.
And when the Righteous Faction finally struck—once Leo and Soron both fell—he would be the one offering the most cooperation, the one presenting himself as the bridge between invaders and the conquered, the loyal administrator who had risked everything to assist them from within.
"In exchange," he murmured softly, almost lovingly, "they will make me caretaker of all Cult lands, ruler of the remnants, steward of whatever remains after the purge."
He smiled thinly at the thought, his eyes reflecting a cold ambition that had survived decades of suffocation, as he imagined the council restored, the Righteous Faction victorious, and himself seated atop the ruins as the sole remaining authority.
"And when the smoke clears... I will finally get what I deserve."
The Third Elder whispered, already savoring the future he believed was now within reach.