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墨書 Inktalez
Qin Si hurried through the long corridor, the Cold Wind rushing in through the open window, making her Skirt flutter.
She wrapped her Peacock Blue Shawl tighter around herself and quickened her pace.
The lady's state tonight was truly concerning; her gaze seemed as if she were about to devour something whole.
Qin Si dared not delay. After finding Lucius, she immediately brought him to Aelia's room.
Inside, the fireplace crackled with a lively fire, but the sound of the burning wood did nothing to dispel the cold atmosphere that lingered in the air.
Aelia sat in a soft chair by the window, her figure appearing particularly frail under the flickering candlelight.
With one hand propping up her chin and the other absentmindedly stroking her Ring, her Fingertip turned pale as if she were about to crush that symbol of glory and power.
Luna sat on a small stool at her feet, her chubby little face devoid of any childish innocence. Her brows were furrowed, and in her Azure Blue eyes sparkled a maturity and anxiety beyond her years.
The crisis at the Magic Castle loomed over her like a sword of Damocles, leaving her restless and uneasy.
In the original story, this crisis nearly destroyed the entire family; she had to prevent it from happening!
But right now, she was just a babbling infant. How could she make the adults believe her and act according to her ideas?
Her tiny fists clenched tightly as Luna bit her lip, repeatedly rehearsing her plan in her mind.
No, the timing wasn't right yet; she had to wait for an appropriate opportunity...
"Mother," Lucius entered, breaking the suffocating silence in the room. "You called for me?" His gaze fell on Luna, noticing her serious expression with curiosity. "Luna? What's wrong? What happened?"
Luna looked up at him, a flicker of barely perceptible hope crossing her eyes.
Lucius was her most trusted brother; perhaps she could start with him...
“Brother,” Luna said in a baby voice, though there was an unusual seriousness in her tone that belied her age. “I… I had a dream…”
She deliberately lowered her voice to create an air of mystery, successfully piquing Lucius's curiosity.
He bent down, leaning closer to Luna, and gently asked, “What dream? Tell your brother.”
Luna glanced at Aelia, noticing she was still lost in her thoughts, before quietly sharing the impending crisis facing the Magic Castle with Lucius, her words coming out in fragments.
Of course, she omitted the true source of her “premonitory dream,” only mentioning that she dreamed of the Magic Castle being attacked by a group of men in black, flames soaring into the sky, and cries of despair echoing everywhere…
As Lucius listened to Luna's description, his expression shifted from curiosity to shock and concern.
He stared at Luna in disbelief; how could a child not yet two years old have such a terrifying dream?
Could it… could this really be some kind of omen?
“Luna,” Lucius's voice trembled slightly. “Are you… are you sure what you dreamed was real?”
Luna nodded solemnly, tears welling in her eyes. “Brother, I really saw it… it was so scary…”
Seeing Luna like this made the last shred of doubt in Lucius's heart vanish.
He believed Luna and trusted the significance of this dream.
Just then, Aelia seemed to awaken suddenly, lifting her head to look at them. “What are you talking about?” Her voice was hoarse and tinged with fatigue.
Lucius hesitated for a moment but decided to tell Aelia about Luna’s “dream.”
Upon hearing it, Aelia’s face instantly turned pale, and her body trembled slightly.
She held Luna tightly, tears silently streaming down her face.
"Luna," Aelia's voice choked with emotion, "my child... you have suffered..."
Luna gently patted Aelia's back, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
She knew that Aelia must be in great pain right now, but she had to be strong, for herself and for the entire family.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the Magic Castle, the eldest brother sat alone in his study, holding a thick Magic Tome in his hands.
Since the Magic Backlash, his health had deteriorated, and the Magical Talent he once took pride in was gradually fading away.
He felt like a useless person, unable to protect his family or safeguard the Magic Castle.
However, when he heard about the impending crisis facing the Magic Castle, the long-dormant flame within him was reignited.
He remembered his past vows and the hopeful gazes of his family, and a powerful force surged from deep within his heart.
He suddenly stood up and slammed the Magic Tome down on the table with a loud crash.
"I cannot continue to sink like this!" he shouted softly, determination shining in his eyes. "I must rise again and protect my family!"
The Second Brother paced back and forth in his room, his expression shifting between hope and despair.
The betrayal by a close friend had once made him lose hope in life; he had shut himself away from everyone.
But upon learning about the crisis facing the Magic Castle, an indescribable sense of responsibility welled up inside him.
He recalled the times he fought alongside his brothers and remembered the love his family had shown him. He realized that he could no longer run away.
He took a deep breath, his gaze gradually becoming resolute.
"I can no longer be weak!" He clenched his fists, filled with determination. "I must face this crisis together with my family!"
At that moment, Brother San stood on the balcony, gazing at the distant rolling mountains, feeling a sense of confusion within.
He had been hailed as a Magic Genius since childhood, but his pride had led him to neglect his training.
Now, faced with the crisis of the Magic Castle, he felt utterly helpless...
He reached for the wand at his waist, suddenly feeling its weight become unusually heavy.
What else could he do?
"Brother San," a voice suddenly called out from behind him, "are you... are you okay?"
Brother San stood on the balcony, the wind brushing against Luna, causing a slight sting.
He tightened his grip on the wand he had carried since childhood, his knuckles turning white.
How proud he had once been, believing that talent alone could elevate him above others. Yet now, as the family crisis loomed closer, he felt like the most useless one of all.
"Are you... okay?" The voice was familiar; it was Luna's.
Brother San turned around and looked at her small yet determined face, feeling a slight tremor in his heart.
"I'm fine," he replied softly, lowering his head. His voice was somewhat hoarse.
He couldn't face Luna's penetrating gaze, which held too much wisdom for her age and an unspoken expectation.
Luna clutched a stuffed bear she had picked up from the garden, walking over with determined steps. Her tender voice carried a hint of seriousness as she called out, "Brother San."
Those words struck deep within Brother San's soul like a magic mark.
He swallowed hard, a long-lost sense of shame and determination intertwining within his chest, burning brightly.
Suddenly, he turned to gaze at the distant mountains, where the clouds churned like a magical aura swirling in the air.
"You’re right," he murmured. "I refuse to just waste away like this."
In that moment of turning, he was no longer just a hollow shell living in someone else's shadow.
He hurried back to his room, dust swirling around him as he opened the long-sealed magic box. Inside were neatly arranged various magic scrolls, ancient tomes, and a shard of elemental crystal with ice cracks running through it.
He shed his extravagant cloak, the peacock blue shawl fluttering in the wind, while a long-lost smile brightened his lips.
In the distance, a shadow flitted past behind the curtains in the study.
Leonard stood by the window, clutching a damp piece of letterhead—one he had received from a private messenger containing a warning about Luna's recent unusual "behavior."
His expression was grave, his brow tightly furrowed as a chill crept up his back.
"Damn little thing..." he muttered under his breath, his palm clenched into a fist.
Though Luna was merely a babbling infant, she always stirred unease within him.
Whenever she appeared, it felt as if the currents of destiny began to shift quietly.
But he could not act too overtly; he was a lord, the face and power center of the Glorious Demon Fortress.
Every move he made was under scrutiny, especially from Aelia, whose demeanor had grown increasingly cold and sharp.
He slowly exhaled, tossing the letterhead into the fireplace. As the Fire Tongue flickered, the paper turned to ashes.
Stepping out of the study, he donned his Black Cloak, heavy and dark, mirroring the turmoil within his heart.
“She… her expression when she spoke of dreams was genuine,” Aelia's voice was low.
Dressed in a high-necked Mo Lan-colored Starry Gown, her golden hair elegantly piled high, she exuded an imposing presence, more like a true Lord's wife than ever before.
“Madam,” Qin Si gently adjusted her cloak and whispered about how Chen Lu had awakened Lucius alone and briefly conversed with Brother San.
Aelia listened intently but did not respond immediately.
Light and shadow danced in her eyes, and finally, she released a soft breath.
That breath was like ice cracking in spring soil, revitalizing her spirit.
“Gather everyone,” she commanded, lifting her head. The confusion in her eyes had transformed into fiery hope and determination.
“We need to hear what this daughter has prepared for the Glorious Demon Fortress.”
In the center of Yan Hall, candlelight flickered.
Everyone from the Magic Castle had gathered, the atmosphere so tense it felt as if the air could solidify.
Luna sat on a Soft Cushion beside the main seat, a small figure yet radiating unwavering resolve.
She carefully described the impending attack that would occur in her “dream”: flames rising from the North Gate, dark-clad figures appearing in the secret passage between the Moss Wall and East Tower, immense magical energy converging beneath the Starfire Tomb's Symbol Array, with signs of Magic Backlash.
Every word struck a chord with everyone present. The eldest brother tightened his grip on the Magic Wand, his eyes ablaze; the Second Brother sat up straight, jotting down details with his head bowed; Brother San quietly stood in the corner, his head nearly touching his chest, his expression inscrutable yet his gaze intense.
"I believe," Luna paused, seemingly weighing her words, "we must reactivate the Defensive Core within the castle. Additionally, the Southern Weapon Forge may have been tampered with by an Infiltrator and must be sealed off."
The air suddenly grew heavy as the elders and knights whispered among themselves, their gazes shifting back and forth between Aelia and Luna.
"Is this true? The Defensive Spell in the castle hasn't been touched for decades..."
"She's just a child; why should we heed a child's dreams for our defenses?"
"But that dream... if it truly is Shen Qi, then it's not something an ordinary child could possess."
Aelia quietly listened to these discussions until their voices began to fade.
She stood up, her voice slicing through the air like a sharp blade:
"I believe her."
Instantly, silence fell over the crowd.
Her gaze swept across everyone present—Luna's determination, the awakening of the Three Brothers, and her own lingering resentment towards that man—Leonard.
"From this day forth, I, Aelia, will take charge of the Magic Castle's defense affairs. Anyone who seeks to cover up hidden dangers with silence and delay will be treated as negligent."
Just then, heavy footsteps echoed in the room.
Leonard appeared at the door, his dark cloak billowing ominously, and beneath it, his eyes were as dark as a night sea.
"Aelia, do you know what you are doing?"
“I certainly know,” Aelia turned, meeting his gaze without waiting for him to approach. “But what about you? Did you empty the crystals from the South Tower Chamber for those Magic Restoration Spells? Or for your Leonard's Concubine?”
Leonard’s expression darkened instantly. “How dare you doubt me?”
“It’s not doubt; it’s confirmation.” Aelia’s tone was as cold as ice. “I will no longer tolerate your betrayal, nor will I hide it from you. The Glorious Demon Fortress is not solely your Royal Court.”
The atmosphere in the hall became tense.
Leonard clenched his fists, veins throbbing on his forehead.
He had intended to downplay the crisis to control the situation, but he hadn’t anticipated that Luna and Aelia, this peculiar mother-daughter duo, would press him so relentlessly.
“You are handing the fortress's Destiny over to an infant!”
“I am willing.”
Their voices echoed against the Pillar, leaving everyone in silence.
The candle in the corner flickered, nearly extinguished by the breeze.
Aelia turned again to look at Luna, who stood small yet straight-backed, like a piece of Ashes swaying in the wind but refusing to fall.
“—Begin preparations,” she said softly.
Meanwhile, Leonard’s fingers twitched slightly as his gaze passed through the crowd, landing on a silent Old Guard standing still.
That glance felt like a command.
The wind stirred; somewhere within the fortress, chains rattled quietly, and a flash of ancient magic glimmered briefly from the corner of the wall.
Everything surged quietly, like deep waters stirring beneath the surface. Aelia's provocative words lingered in the air, heavy as smoke.
The hall fell into silence, broken only by the crackling flames in the fireplace that shattered the stillness.
The gathered crowd shifted uneasily, their faces a tapestry of worry and morbid curiosity.
Some whispered among themselves, stealing glances at the petite Luna, then at Leonard's rigid back.
One could almost taste the tension in the air, bitter and metallic.
Old Henwick's face was as wrinkled as parchment, nervously stroking the worn leather cover of his Grimoire, from which a faint scent of dried herbs emanated through the yellowed pages.
A young knight, still just a boy, struggled to swallow, his throat filled with the metallic taste of fear.
The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows that seemed to mock the uncertainty in the room.
Even the tapestry appeared to hold its breath, its woven scenes of heroic battles and triumphant returns starkly contrasting with the uneasy silence.
Leonard clenched his jaw tightly, nearly grinding his teeth to dust. Suddenly, he turned and strode out of the hall, his black cloak billowing behind him like storm clouds.
He paused at the archway, his voice low and resonant as it echoed through the hall.
"This... is not over."
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