"...Troublesome."
Antanasia leaned back in her chair.
But the word no longer sounded entirely negative.
Temorsth looked at her for a moment, then tilted his head.
"What is it?"
"Hm?"
"You were looking at me strangely."
Antanasia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I was wondering whether you are actually insane."
"Ah."
Temorsth nodded as if that made perfect sense.
"Then?"
"Nothing."
Antanasia sighed.
Her problem was not with his method.
In some twisted way, his logic was understandable.
If something was broken, become strong enough to fix it.
If death stood in the way, grow until death became something smaller.
But the attitude was wrong.
No sane person treated their own collapsing spiritual body like an interesting problem to solve later.
No sane person heard that their soul shell was covered in more than a thousand cracks and reacted by becoming curious about the terminology.
'Is he really crazy...?'
The question settled in her mind.
Then Temorsth looked toward the magical window.
"Oh. It is completely dark outside."
The window showed the back garden beneath the artificial night of the hidden world. The soft blue-black sky covered the trees, the grass, and the training clearing where he had spent hours failing to understand his father's hint.
"Hmh..."
Temorsth stood.
"We should rest now. Tomorrow, I need to somehow learn that unique ability."
Antanasia froze.
"...Unique ability?"
The words left her mouth before she could stop them.
She had seen him training.
She had watched him cut at shadows like a very serious idiot.
She had known Xalier had given him some kind of impossible challenge.
But she had not known that challenge was connected to a unique ability.
"The king's unique ability..."
Her expression shifted.
"What kind of unique ability?"
Temorsth looked back at her.
"My dad's. His step does not really treat space like an obstacle. He can cross a great distance with one step."
Antanasia's eyes narrowed.
'But... isn't that just Transcendence?'
Then she remembered the fight.
The way Xalier had vanished and appeared where distance should not have allowed him to appear.
No.
Not Transcendence.
Similar in shape, maybe.
But not the same.
"What is its name?"
"World Crossing."
Temorsth watched her reaction curiously.
Antanasia became silent.
'World Crossing...'
She had never heard of a unique ability with that name before.
That did not mean much by itself. Unique abilities did not always keep the same name. Their names often changed as they grew, evolved, or transformed through the nature of their user.
There were only a few thousand original unique abilities with truly fixed origins and names. Everything else could branch, mutate, combine, or become something new after enough time, pressure, and understanding.
'It is close to Transcendence, but the distance he crossed was absurd. At his level, even Transcendence should not reach that far so cleanly.'
Her eyes slowly widened.
'Don't tell me...'
Temorsth tilted his head to the other side.
"Ann, what are you thinking about?"
"Oh, nothing really."
Antanasia rubbed the back of her neck.
"It's just..."
She looked toward the window.
"Your dad is a real freak."
Temorsth blinked.
"He created a new unique ability. That is purely insane."
"Created...?"
Temorsth's eyebrow rose.
He did not ask immediately.
He only stored the word.
'Dad created his unique ability...'
'If Antanasia says it, then it is probably true.'
Maybe Xalier had taken something like that Transcendence thing she mentioned, broken it apart, rebuilt it, and turned it into World Crossing.
Or maybe he had walked so far down his own path that the world itself recognized the result as something new.
Temorsth's thoughts moved back to something Aidana had told him before.
Whatever you can imagine may already be real somewhere.
In this world.
In another world.
In another Realm.
Or in some impossible place where common sense no longer worked.
'So creating something new is not impossible.'
His eyes slowly sharpened.
'It only means reaching something that has not yet been reached here.'
Antanasia noticed the look on his face.
For some reason, it made her feel uneasy.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
"Don't zone out like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you just decided to do something unreasonable."
Persona shudered. 'Fuf, its good that Reason is sleeping.'
But he, Temorsth smiled. "I did not."
"That makes me believe you less."
He chuckled softly.
Then stood and stretched.
"Anyway, it is late."
He moved toward the door.
Antanasia immediately rose as well.
Temorsth paused and looked back at her.
"You do not need to follow me into my room."
Antanasia stopped.
"...I don't?"
"No."
He pointed lightly toward his own chest.
"The connection lets me feel where you are, right? And you can feel me too if I allow it."
"More or less."
"Then that is enough. I am going to rest. You should rest too."
Antanasia's expression became strange.
"What about guarding?"
"Who are you guarding me from in here? Also you are injured."
"I am still strong enough to guard a sleeping child, and if not guard what am I suposed to do?"
"I know."
Temorsth's answer came easily.
"But I do not need you to stand beside my bed all night like a decoration."
Antanasia stared at him.
"...Decoration?"
"Yes."
"That is rude."
"It is accurate."
Her eyebrow twitched.
Temorsth smiled a little.
"Mom said she would prepare a room for you. Until then, you can use the couch here or the guest sitting room."
Antanasia blinked.
"Just like that?"
"Yes."
She looked at him carefully.
"You are very trusting for someone who owns a servant."
Temorsth frowned.
"I already told you. I don't like that word."
"You did."
"And I do not trust you completely."
His voice became calmer.
"I trust the oath. I trust my parents. I trust that you care about your sister. And..."
He paused.
"I trust that you are not stupid enough to try something in this house."
Antanasia stared at him for a moment.
Then laughed under her breath.
"Fair."
"Good night, Ann."
Temorsth turned and left the side room.
Antanasia watched him go.
The hallway light dimmed softly as he walked away.
For a while, she did not move.
Then she looked at the couch.
Then at the half-open door.
Then at the strange warm house built inside a tree, hidden inside a Small World, protected by a forest that was really an array wearing leaves as skin.
"...What the hell is my life now?"
No one answered.
Antanasia sighed and sat down on the couch.
It was annoyingly comfortable.
...
Temorsth entered his room alone.
The Heart Wood Spear rested in his left hand.
The magical blue crystal on the ceiling shone faintly, filling the room with gentle light.
He placed the spear beside the bed and changed behind the privacy screen, then used a small burst of energy to cleanse himself.
Fire-like energy washed over his body for a moment.
Not burning.
Cleaning.
When it disappeared, the sweat, dust, and grass from training were gone.
"This still feels strange... I would like a normal bath but I am tired."
He climbed into bed and lay down.
The ceiling crystal slowly dimmed.
Darkness settled over the room.
Temorsth closed his eyes.
His body did not fall into sleep immediately.
It drifted instead into that strange meditation-like state between rest, memory, and dream.
The soft bed beneath him faded.
The quiet room faded.
The hidden world faded.
...
In a world swallowed by darkness and despair, a Great Monster speaks.
"Do you remember her...?"
Its voice echoes through nothing.
"Do you remember them...?"
In the middle of that complete darkness, a young creature sits while holding both of his legs.
His body is small.
Wrong.
Compressed.
As if the entire world is trying to crush him into something smaller than himself.
His eyes reflect a blue world.
A beautiful blue world.
A painful blue world.
"Blue..."
His voice trembles.
Pain twists through his body.
The pressure around him is so terrible that he cannot even move a finger.
Ugh...
His shape is squeezed into something almost oval, bones and flesh and spirit pressed together beneath a force no living thing should endure.
Yet despite that insane pain, the young creature only stares at the blue world reflected in his eyes.
The Great Monster watches him.
Its patience cracks.
"Don't you remember it now!?"
The voice rises.
The darkness shakes.
The young creature's lips part.
"I..."
Cough.
Cough.
Red liquid bursts from his mouth and spills into the darkness.
"I... don't know..."
The Great Monster becomes still.
"What?"
"You will give up now?"
"I..."
"You fought against all odds, and you will give up now!?"
"I..."
The young creature looks up.
His eyes are empty.
Lost.
"Who am I...?"
Silence answers.
Then the pressure grows.
Ugh...
Cough.
The force crushing him becomes far greater than before.
"You!"
The Great Monster's voice twists with anger.
Its teeth grind so loudly the sound seems to tear through the dark.
"I...?"
The question sounds innocent.
Pained.
Small.
The monster's rage shakes.
"Don't you remember them!?"
The darkness burns with its hatred.
"The ones who condemned you... to this..."
Its voice lowers into something almost broken.
"To this... abomination!?"
The young creature trembles.
"I-I'm sorry..."
The Great Monster freezes.
"...!?"
"I'm sorry..."
"..."
"I'm... sorry..."
The anger disappears.
Only silence remains.
"Why..."
The Great Monster's voice loses power.
"I'm..."
Cough.
More red floods the darkness.
"Why don't you... remember?"
The sentence falls apart as it leaves the monster.
The young creature shudders.
"Tell me..."
His voice is barely there.
"Who am I...?"
The darkness feels empty.
Cold.
Abandoned.
"Please..."
The young creature's words shake with his body.
"Please..."
The Great Monster says nothing for a long time.
Then, quietly, it speaks.
"This will be..."
"Thank... you."
The young creature's faint gratitude makes the silence heavier.
The Great Monster finishes.
"...the last time."
The young creature's eyes tremble.
"He..."
The Great Monster begins the story again.
And as its voice fills the darkness, despair, hope, fear, and desire begin moving through that empty world.
Neither the monster nor the creature knows which emotion belongs to which one.
But both understand one thing.
If this time does not succeed...
It truly will be...
The End.
...
"If I want to return as early as possible, I have to leave now."
Xalier stood from the breakfast table.
"Sorry, son."
Temorsth immediately stood as well.
"Ah! Dad, you always run before I can—"
Xalier vanished.
The rest of the sentence died in Temorsth's mouth.
"...ask anything."
He stared at the empty place where his father had been.
"Ugh. I did not get any details."
They had been speaking only a moment ago.
To be exact, Temorsth had been explaining what he thought might be necessary to understand Shadow Step.
Shadows.
Slash it.
World Crossing.
But before they could speak about anything concrete, Xalier had escaped.
Again.
A chaotic feeling touched Temorsth through the oath connection.
Fear.
Hope.
Anxiety.
Restraint.
He turned.
Antanasia was standing near the wall, her arms crossed tightly.
"Huh? Don't worry."
Temorsth tried to reassure her.
"Dad will get your sister safely. You even gave him a talisman to show he is a friend."
"Uhm..."
Antanasia nodded slowly.
"I hope so."
Her eyes showed no such certainty.
'Sis... please don't cause trouble.'
Temorsth looked at her for a moment.
Then decided not to push.
...
Outside the barrier, Xalier reappeared beneath the artificial sky of the hidden world.
The smile he had worn at the breakfast table faded.
"Sorry, son."
He looked back toward the invisible boundary hiding the tree house.
"But you need to understand it on your own."
If he explained too much, Temorsth would only learn Xalier's path.
A copy.
A shallow imitation.
Useful, maybe.
But limited.
World Crossing had not become what it was because Xalier had followed someone else's answer.
It had become what it was because he had chased an impossible idea until the world gave up arguing with him.
"If you find your own beginning, it might take a few years."
His voice was quiet.
"But in exchange, you may discover something even I did not."
He turned away from the hidden world.
"And perhaps evolve it further than I, its creator, ever could."
The forest beyond the barrier waited.
Layered.
Distorted.
False.
It looked like trees, mist, and ruined land.
In truth, it was a maze of arrays that constantly shifted through illusion, space, scent, energy, and direction.
Even Xalier needed time to move through it properly.
He stepped forward.
The world bent.
Half an hour later, he stopped above a random-looking part of the forest.
Nothing marked the place.
No road.
No tower.
No gate.
Only branches, dead leaves, and a small patch of dark earth.
"Hm. It is here."
A blue array formed beneath his feet.
"Teleport."
The world changed.
When Xalier opened his eyes again, the scenery had turned red and black.
The dirt was dark crimson.
The stones were almost charcoal.
The vegetation looked half-dead, as if the land itself had been slowly drained for centuries.
"This time, the southern one."
The glowing array beneath his feet faded.
Xalier looked around and frowned slightly.
'I should create a few more random destinations.'
The current teleportation points were already difficult to trace, but not perfect.
Nothing was perfect.
And anything imperfect around his family eventually became a danger.
"I will fix it later."
He pushed off the ground and flew.
...
An hour later, beneath a dark sky, Xalier stood not far from a giant black castle.
Mist flowed around its towers.
The walls rose from the mountain like carved night, and several spires pierced upward, their tips disappearing into low clouds.
For a moment, Xalier only looked at it.
Then he sighed.
"Uh..."
He took one step.
World Crossing carried him silently across the distance.
He appeared beside a large stained-glass window and carefully stepped through the boundary enchantment without breaking it.
The interior was dark, elegant, and cold.
A private chamber.
His private chamber.
Xalier let out a quiet breath.
'Silently...'
The door opened.
"Welcome back, my King."
Xalier closed his eyes.
'Fuck.'
He turned around with the dignity of someone who had absolutely not just been caught sneaking into his own castle.
"Oh. Kane."
A handsome pale man stood in the doorway, wearing dark noble clothes with silver embroidery. His golden hair fell neatly over one shoulder, and his red eyes carried the tired irritation of a man who had been holding back several disasters with paperwork alone.
"I did not notice you standing outside."
Kane stared at him.
"Please elaborate."
Xalier smiled.
"On what?"
"On how you, oh great and mighty King of Darkness, failed to notice me standing outside your own door."
"Ah."
Xalier placed one hand on Kane's shoulder.
"Kane, old friend, don't be like that. I have to spend time with my family too."
Kane brushed his hand away.
"No."
Xalier blinked.
"No?"
"No, I will be exactly like that."
Kane pushed his golden hair back and adjusted his collar with stiff dignity.
"I know the Queen and the Prince are important."
His voice lowered slightly.
"And I support what you and Her Majesty are trying to do. You know that."
Xalier's smile softened.
Kane was one of his closest friends.
One of the few people who knew about Elah.
About Temorsth.
About the dream of ending the war between vampires and elves.
But that did not mean Kane was gentle with him.
"However," Kane continued, his eyes sharpening, "that does not mean you can postpone all the work and put it on me."
Xalier's smile became strained.
"I know. Sorry."
"No, you do not."
Kane stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him.
"The counselor of the Bucur family almost skinned me because his meeting was postponed three times."
Xalier's expression darkened.
'That old man again...'
"And that is not even mentioning the Dalca family's constant pestering."
Kane's voice gained speed.
"Those irritating bastards find problems in everything. Trade permits. Border patrols. Blood tax distribution. Captured elf prisoners. Missing mercenaries. Rumors about the southern battlefield. Your disappearance. Your reappearance. Your disappearance again."
Xalier slowly raised both hands.
"Alright, alright. I understand."
"No, you don't."
"I understand enough."
"You absolutely do not."
Xalier sighed.
"I will stay for a while and finish everything at hand."
Kane stared at him.
"For a while?"
"Yes."
"Define 'a while.'"
Xalier smiled.
Kane's expression became flatter.
"My King."
"Kane."
"If you vanish again before dealing with the urgent matters, I will personally tell the Queen."
Xalier froze.
The threat landed harder than any blade.
"...That is cruel."
"It is effective."
Xalier looked away.
Kane smiled for the first time.
"Good. Now sit down."
Xalier, the Blood Red Flash, the Merciless Executioner, the King of Vampires, looked at the chair beside his desk.
Then at Kane.
Then at the mountains of documents already waiting there.
For a moment, his eyes showed true suffering.
"...I should have let Antanasia kill me."
Kane did not blink.
"Sit."
Xalier sat.