Night had fallen deep and still.
Above ground, nearly all of Huinjou City had settled into silence. The streetlamps had dimmed, and the night wind carried only the soft rustle of leaves brushing against one another. Yet far beneath the earth, hidden behind long, winding stone corridors, in the most secret chamber beneath the Hall of Awakening, an old man remained awake.
Altheon.
The light from the small lantern in his hand danced and flickered, casting long, wavering shadows across the ancient stone walls—walls thick with moss and etched with the marks of time. The large wooden table before him was nearly buried beneath stacks of documents, scrolls yellowed with age, and heavy volumes whose covers were crumbling from centuries of wear. Several scrolls lay open, revealing archaic script that was nearly illegible, while loose sheets of notes were scattered haphazardly, as if someone was trying to piece together fragments of a long-lost puzzle.
Altheon rubbed his temples, which throbbed faintly. His eyes felt heavy, his eyelids begging to close. Yet his mind raced on, far too alert for sleep. The more he read, the more questions crowded his thoughts. And most troubling of all: the more he uncovered, the less he seemed to truly understand.
"This makes no sense…" he murmured softly, his voice echoing faintly in the vast, quiet chamber.
Spread before him were three key documents he had examined time and again. Ancient records telling of a being known as Destrover. A drawing of the Red-and-Blue Eye symbol, etched clearly onto paper grown thin with age. And the archives of a great kingdom—one that, for reasons unknown, had been erased entirely from every page of known history.
At first glance, the three seemed entirely unrelated. They belonged to different eras, were written by different hands, and spoke of different events. Yet at the same time, there was a faint, undeniable thread weaving them all together. A thread so fine it was almost invisible, yet impossible to ignore. And every time he followed it, the end always led back to one name.
Edward Briar.
Altheon drew a long breath, trying to calm his swirling thoughts. He reached for one of the oldest scrolls, unrolling it carefully. Fine dust drifted into the air as he exhaled, and the ancient script slowly came into view. But as he read line after line, the furrow in his brow deepened. Something was amiss—something hidden beneath the very words written there.
Altheon leaned back in his creaking wooden chair. His gaze drifted blankly toward the high stone ceiling, while the rhythmic ticking of an old clock in the corner cut through the silence.
Tick…
Tick…
Tick…
"What exactly are you, Edward?" he whispered to himself, his voice nearly swallowed by the steady rhythm of the clock.
For over sixty years as a scholar of magical history, he had witnessed many strange and unbelievable things. He had read accounts of ancient monsters slumbering deep within mountain ranges. He had held forbidden artifacts capable of wielding deadly power. He had even studied curses so potent they could erase a person's entire existence as if they had never been born.
But Edward's case was different.
Utterly different.
No theory, no law of magic, no historical record he knew of could explain what was happening to the boy. It was as if Edward existed entirely outside all the rules and boundaries the world had established over thousands of years.
Altheon bowed his head once more, staring at the drawing of the Red-and-Blue Eye. Then his eyes shifted to the notes about Destrover, and back again to the symbol. He repeated this over and over, as if by doing so he might uncover the hidden answer. Finally, he let out a long, heavy sigh that felt like a weight leaving his chest.
"They all point to the same place," he said softly, filled with confusion. "But why? Why must it be him?"
The old man then reached for a thick book bound in the hardened hide of a magical beast. It contained the research of the greatest mages from centuries past. He turned page after page, reading every line with meticulous care—until suddenly, he stopped. His hand froze, and his gaze locked onto a single sentence.
The more he compared the facts written in the book with what he knew of Edward, the clearer a great contradiction became.
If Edward were merely an ordinary Vessel, as all records described, there were only three possible outcomes.
The first: His body would be destroyed, unable to contain such immense power.
The second: His soul would slowly erode, gradually consumed by the force dwelling within him.
The third: His consciousness would be completely overtaken by the entity sealed inside.
Yet the reality he witnessed every day contradicted all three.
Edward was alive, growing strong and healthy like any other child. He could laugh freely, feel anger at injustice, and weep when he was sad. He still possessed a gentle heart, always striving to protect the younger and weaker children at the orphanage. And what disturbed Altheon most of all: Edward still had the strength to resist and push back against Destrover's rising power.
Altheon slowly closed the book, his voice trembling.
"No…" he whispered. "This is wrong."
He stood from his chair and began to pace along the length of the table, his long robes brushing softly against the stone floor.
"It is impossible," he said again, as if trying to convince himself. "No ordinary child could have endured this for so long. It cannot be."
The more he thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. It was as if fate had hidden something from view—something deliberately omitted from every page of history.
Suddenly, amid the chaos of his thoughts, a distant memory surfaced. A record so rarely mentioned that it had been nearly forgotten by everyone.
Altheon halted abruptly. He turned and hurried toward the darkest bookshelf in the corner of the room. His hands moved quickly, searching through the volumes arranged neatly there.
One book.
Two books.
Three books.
Until finally, his fingers brushed against a cover that felt colder and far more ancient than the rest. He pulled it free. This was a research journal nearly two hundred years old, filled only with brief notes that had long been deemed unimportant.
With great care, he turned the pages. There he found short, factual reports:
"The 27th Vessel: Survived for three days before the power seized control."
He turned the next page.
"The 39th Vessel: Lasted only seven days; his body shattered under the immense pressure of energy."
Another page.
"The 51st Vessel: Lost all consciousness in a single night."
Altheon closed the book slowly. His hands began to tremble, and a coldness crept from his fingertips all the way to his bones.
"Edward has endured for ten years…" he murmured, barely audible.
Ten years. Not just days. Not just months. Ten long years filled with trials and change. And to this day, Destrover's power remained tightly sealed within him.
The realization sent a chill down his spine. He felt as though he stood before a massive puzzle, the answer to which could reshape everything the world believed to be true.
In the darkest corner of the chamber, hidden behind stacks of dusty old crates, rested a small stone chest. Its shape was simple, without any elaborate ornamentation. Most strangely of all: it did not appear in any of the kingdom's archives. It had no inventory number, no record of who had placed it there, and no description of its contents. It was as if its very existence had been erased to ensure it would never be found.
Altheon approached it, his steps slow and cautious. But the moment he stood before it, he froze completely.
Carved into the surface of the lid was a symbol he knew all too well.
One eye blazing crimson.
One eye deep as sapphire.
Identical in every detail.
Altheon's heart began to race, beating far faster than usual.
"It cannot be…" he breathed.
His hand reached out slowly, touching the cold stone. It felt as frigid as ice that had never melted, as though it had not been touched by human hands for hundreds of years.
"This symbol…" he said again, his eyes fixed upon the carving. "How can it be here?"
He thought back to the palm of Edward's hand—the symbol that appeared faintly whenever the boy experienced a vision, growing clearer and more defined as Edward grew older. And now, the exact same mark was etched into this ancient, hidden chest.
Something great was beginning to reveal itself. Something that had been concealed for centuries.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor behind him.
Tap…
Tap…
Tap…
Altheon spun around quickly, his hand moving instinctively to cover the chest as if to hide it. From the shadows of the stone passage emerged the figure of a young woman.
Silvia.
Her breath came in short gasps, her brown hair was slightly disheveled, and her face bore signs of exhaustion yet remained set with determination. She stood in the doorway, looking at Altheon with sharp, unwavering eyes.
"So this place truly exists," she stated firmly, breaking the silence.
Altheon let out a long breath, not entirely surprised.
"You followed me," he said evenly.
Silvia crossed her arms over her chest, showing no trace of fear.
"And you knew I was doing so from the very start, did you not?"
"Of course," Altheon replied softly. "I sensed someone following me the moment I left the dormitory."
"Then why did you not stop me?" Silvia asked, her voice rising slightly.
Altheon offered a faint, bitter smile, heavy with unspoken burdens.
"Because I knew that even if I had forbidden you, you would have come anyway. Your curiosity is far too strong to be so easily deterred."
Silvia did not answer. She simply walked closer until she stood beside him. Her gaze immediately fell upon the stone chest, and more precisely, upon the symbol carved into its lid. Her expression shifted instantly, her eyes widening slightly.
"That…" she whispered. "That is the exact same symbol Edward bears."
Altheon nodded slowly. And for the first time that night, he saw reflected in Silvia's eyes the very same fear that gripped his own heart—the fear of what they were truly facing.
With slightly trembling hands, Altheon began to activate the ancient seal upon the chest. Hidden lines of magic glowed with a faint silvery light, and the air around them grew heavier and colder, as if something that had slept for ages was slowly beginning to stir.
Click.
The seal finally released.
The heavy stone lid lifted slowly, scraping loudly against the silence of the room. Inside, there was no pile of gold or enchanted weapons. There lay only a single book, resting alone.
It was extraordinarily old. Its cover was nearly destroyed, much of its leather binding flaking away. Yet in its center, the Red-and-Blue Eye symbol remained clear and intact, as if it possessed the power to resist the passage of time.
Silvia swallowed hard, her throat suddenly feeling dry.
"What does it contain?" she asked quietly.
Altheon shook his head gently.
"I do not know. This is the first time I have ever laid eyes upon it."
That, in itself, was what frightened him most. Something so valuable had been hidden away with such care, yet not a single record existed to explain its purpose.
He lifted the book carefully and opened to the first page. The paper was incredibly thin and fragile, creaking softly as it turned. The ancient script slowly came into view.
But the moment Altheon read the first sentence, his eyes flew wide. Silvia, looking over his shoulder, read it too—and both froze in place.
Written clearly across the page were the words:
"When Light and Darkness lose their balance…
The heir of Equilibris shall rise once more."
The room suddenly felt far colder than before. No one spoke; no one moved. Only the faint crackle of the lantern flame broke the heavy, suffocating silence.
Silvia stared at the words, then turned to look at Altheon.
"Equilibris…" she whispered. "That is the same name we heard before."
Altheon nodded slowly, his face turning pale.
For so long, that name had existed only as a legend, an ancient myth told to frighten children. But now, it was written clearly in a book sealed away for centuries—not as a fairy tale, but as part of a genuine prophecy.
And deep within his heart, a terrible premonition took root. A feeling that everything they had discovered thus far was merely the beginning of a truth far greater, far darker, and far more terrifying than they could ever have imagined.
The sun had not yet fully risen above the eastern horizon when Edward was already standing tall in the training grounds behind Hougwe Orphanage. Morning dew still clung to the tips of the grass, leaving the ground damp beneath his feet. The air was crisp and cold, biting slightly into his bones, while a thin mist hung gently among the dark leaves of the trees.
Usually, this quiet, cool atmosphere brought Edward a sense of calm. But not this morning. Not after everything he had seen in his strange visions. Not after the image of a city consumed by fire, the voices echoing from the darkness, and the single name that had been repeating in his mind as if it would never stop: Equilibris.
Edward drew a long breath, filling his lungs with the sharp morning air, then let it out slowly. Without wasting another moment, he began to run laps around the wide field.
One lap.
Two laps.
Three laps.
Sweat slowly began to bead on his forehead, soaking through the thin shirt he wore. His breathing grew heavier and more labored, yet steady. Still, he did not stop. He pushed his legs to move faster. In his mind, only one thought repeated itself, driving him forward: I must become stronger.
If one day Destrover managed to break free from his seal…
If one day the enemy Altheon spoke of truly arrived…
If one day Silvia, Miss Selner, and the other children here were ever in danger…
He refused to be the one who could only stand by and watch, powerless to do anything. Not anymore.
Huff… Huff…
Edward finally came to a halt. Without pausing to rest, he lowered himself onto the damp grass and began doing push-ups.
One.
Two.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
His arms began to tremble, his muscles growing tight and burning with exhaustion. Yet he forced himself to continue.
"Forty…" he muttered, exhaling sharply.
"Forty-one…"
Droplets of sweat fell to the ground beneath his face. The weariness was real, and there was a strong urge to stop, to rest even for a moment. But every time that feeling arose, images of the people he cared about flashed through his mind. He remembered Alice's smile, Silvia's determination, Miss Selner's kindness, and the memory of the Hall of Awakening collapsing days before.
Those memories were like a fire that reignited his spirit. He kept moving, one after another, until his body felt as though it could barely continue.
From behind a window on the second floor of the orphanage building, Silvia stood watching. Her hand gripped a mug of steaming tea, but her attention was not on the drink in her hands. Her eyes remained fixed on the figure training relentlessly below.
"Starting again…" she murmured softly, her voice nearly lost to the morning breeze.
Beside her stood Serly, one of the younger children, also peering outside.
"How long has Edward been training, Silvia?" she asked curiously.
Silvia let out a quiet sigh. "Since before the sun came up, it seems."
Serly's eyes widened in surprise. "Huh? But he hasn't even had breakfast yet, has he?"
"No," Silvia replied simply.
Both turned their gaze back down. They watched Edward continue to move without pause, as if he knew no fatigue. Serly frowned, then let out a long breath.
"I don't like seeing him like this," she said honestly. "It's as if he's running away from something, or carrying a burden far too heavy to bear alone."
Silvia said nothing. She remained silent, watching him with a heart full of mixed feelings. For she felt exactly the same way.
Over the past few weeks, a clear change had come over Edward. He was still the same on the surface—still smiling brightly, still helping the younger children, still the person they all knew and cared for. Yet behind that smile, something was missing. There was a shadow of fear and a heavy weight he tried so hard to hide. And as time passed, Silvia began to feel afraid too—afraid that one day, that burden would break her friend.
After finishing his physical training, Edward walked to the edge of the field and picked up an old, worn wooden practice sword. Standing tall in the center of the grounds, he began repeating the basic movements Silvia had taught him.
Stance.
Balance.
Precise, controlled swings.
One.
Two.
Three.
Everything proceeded normally, steady and disciplined. But suddenly…
Thump.
Edward froze in place.
Something throbbed softly in his chest.
Thump.
The pulse came again, slightly stronger this time.
He looked down, his eyes fixed directly over his heart. There, the sword-shaped pendant he always wore began to shift, vibrating gently against his chest.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The vibration grew stronger, as if the ancient metal held a heartbeat of its own, alive within it. Edward immediately reached for it with his right hand.
"What is happening now…" he murmured, a note of worry in his voice.
Suddenly, he felt a warmth spreading from the pendant. At first, it felt comforting, but soon it began to intensify, turning into heat—not just warmth, but a sensation that nearly burned his palm. His own heart began to beat faster, as if falling into sync with the object's rhythm. For some reason, a strange feeling rose within him; as if something distant, something hidden, was calling his name.
Edward's breathing slowly became heavier and irregular. An uncomfortable sensation spread from his chest through his entire body. It was a feeling he knew all too well—the exact same sensation he had experienced within the Hall of Awakening. The same feeling that arose whenever that voice—Destrover's voice—tried to speak within his mind.
"No…" he whispered, staring blankly at the ground. "Please, not now. Not here."
He glanced around. The field remained as it always was. The trees stood tall, the sky was slowly turning a bright blue, and the mist was beginning to thin. Nothing seemed out of place to the naked eye. Yet his body tensed instinctively, ready for anything, as if waiting for something terrible to happen.
Then, it occurred.
It lasted only a moment—barely a fraction of a second—but it was clear enough to make Edward's blood run cold in his veins.
Right there in the empty air before his eyes, a symbol appeared.
One eye blazing crimson.
One eye deep as sapphire.
It hovered there silently, as if staring directly into his own.
Edward gasped, stumbling backward instinctively.
"What—?!"
Before he could finish his sentence, the symbol vanished as quickly as it had appeared. It was as if it had never been there at all, merely a trick of the light. But the effect was all too real. His balance failed instantly, and he dropped to his knees in the grass. His breath came in ragged gasps, and cold sweat began to soak his back.
"No…" he hissed softly. "Not again…"
His hands trembled violently. He knew that symbol—knew it far too well. The symbol that appeared in every strange vision, the mark that glowed faintly upon his palm, the same emblem carved into the ancient stone chest they had discovered in the archives. A symbol always linked to things that defied all logic and reason.
As Edward struggled to gather his strength and stand, a flash of imagery suddenly struck his mind. It lasted only a second, yet it felt like an entire minute.
He saw a magnificent ancient city. Crystal spires rose high into the sky, glowing with a beautiful light. But alongside this beauty, flames devoured the buildings, and the heavens turned a deep, bloody red.
Then, emerging from the light and darkness alike, appeared a pair of eyes.
The red eye and the blue eye.
They stared directly at him—not from a distance, not as a distant memory, but as if they were right before him, gazing deep into his very soul.
Edward jolted violently, and the vision vanished as quickly as it had come. He gasped for air, his chest tightening painfully.
"What was that…" he whispered, confused and afraid.
No voice answered. Only the quiet of the morning returned to surround him.
Edward slowly stood upright, though his legs still felt weak and his hands trembled slightly. His head felt heavy, as if he had just carried an immense weight. And for the first time in his life, he felt a fear unlike any he had known before.
He was not afraid of the monsters that might come. He was not afraid of enemies who wished him harm. He was not even afraid of Destrover dwelling within him.
Rather, he was afraid of himself.
"If this symbol keeps appearing…" he muttered, clutching the pendant tightly against his chest. "If Destrover's power grows stronger…"
The voice had not come today. It had not tried to speak or offer anything. Yet Edward could not shake the image from his mind. He remembered those enormous glowing red eyes, the voice echoing within his consciousness, and the tempting offer of power. And most of all, he could not forget those haunting words: "I am inside you."
Edward gritted his teeth, his gaze locking straight ahead with fierce determination.
"No," he said firmly. "I will not let you out. I will not let you take control of me."
Several moments passed in silence. Edward stood perfectly still, waiting. He felt half hopeful, half terrified, that the voice might return. Perhaps it would laugh and mock him. Perhaps it would try to persuade him again. Or perhaps it would grow angry at his defiance.
But… there was nothing.
Only a heavy, empty silence. And strangely enough, that was what made the unease in his heart grow even stronger. For from what he had experienced, a silent, unresponsive Destrover… was far more frightening than one who shouted and taunted.
"Edward!"
A voice cut through the morning stillness—a voice he knew well.
Edward turned quickly to see Silvia running toward him, her face etched with genuine concern.
"What is it? Why do you look like that?" she asked immediately upon reaching him.
"It's nothing," Edward replied quickly, forcing a faint smile that felt stiff and unnatural. "Just a little tired, that's all."
Silvia shook her head firmly. "You're lying. I can tell something is wrong."
Edward fell silent, unsure of what to say. Silvia looked him in the eye, studying his expression closely. She saw the cold sweat still beading on his temples, his uneven breathing, and the pallor of his face.
"You saw something again, didn't you? Something that scared you?" she asked softly but firmly.
Edward bit down gently on the inside of his lip. He wanted to deny it, but he knew it would be useless. Silvia knew him far too well to be fooled.
Silvia let out a long breath, then reached out and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. Her touch was warm and reassuring.
"Edward, listen to me," she said, her voice gentle yet resolute. "You don't have to go through this all alone. You can talk to me. I'll listen."
Those simple words made Edward's chest feel tight. He wanted so badly to speak, to release the burden he had carried in secret for so long. But how could he explain something so complex and terrifying? How could he tell her that an ancient entity named Destrover lived inside his body? How could he speak of the name Equilibris, of a sword that seemed to speak, and of a city lost to the pages of history?
Edward looked down, avoiding her gaze, and replied in a voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll be fine, Silvia. Truly."
Silvia knew he did not believe his own words. They both knew. But for now, she chose not to press him further. She simply nodded slowly, hoping that one day Edward would find the courage to open his heart.
And deep within Silvia's own heart, a new fear began to take root. She could feel something slowly changing within Edward—something that perhaps even Altheon might not be able to stop.
The morning sun climbed higher, spilling warm light over every corner of Hougwe Orphanage. Yet that warmth could not reach the chill that had seeped deep into Edward's bones and settled heavy in his chest.
He sat hunched at the edge of the training ground, both hands pressed to his head as if trying to hold back the chaotic thoughts swirling inside.
His breath still came unevenly, and beads of cold sweat kept beading at his temples even though the air felt cool.
The Red-and-Blue Eye symbol that had appeared floating in the air was gone now, as if it had never been there at all. But the fear it brought lingered—if anything, it grew heavier, tightening around his heart.
"Why now?" he murmured so softly it was almost lost. "Why show itself again? Is Destrover trying to do something inside me?"
His mind raced in endless circles, searching for answers that refused to come.
Not far away, Silvia, who was carrying a basket of clean laundry, suddenly stopped. Her gaze fell straight to Edward, and she immediately noticed how different he looked—his face was unnaturally pale, far paler than usual.
She set the basket down gently on the ground and walked toward him, her steps quiet but firm.
"Edward?" she called softly.
He started and looked up. "Oh… Silvia. Finished with the washing?"
"Are you all right?" she asked instead, her eyes searching every shift of expression on his face.
"I'm fine," Edward replied, forcing his voice to stay steady even though it trembled slightly.
Silvia let out a long breath and sat right beside him, her expression serious.
"Edward, you know I've grown tired of hearing that same answer. When you say that, it only means one thing—you're hiding something again."
Edward dropped his gaze, unable to meet her knowing eyes.
For a moment, neither spoke. All they could hear was the cheerful chirping of birds flitting through the branches around the field. At last, Edward broke the silence, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I saw the symbol again."
Silvia froze. Her body went rigid, and her eyes sharpened. "The Red-and-Blue Eye?"
Edward nodded slowly. "Yes."
"When?"
"Just now. While I was training."
Silvia's face darkened. She remembered all too clearly what had happened at the Hall of Awakening—the explosion of raw power, the shouts of the mages, the oppressive aura that had made the whole chamber feel like it might collapse, and that very symbol appearing just before everything descended into chaos.
She clenched her fists until her nails nearly dug into her palms.
"It can't possibly be just a coincidence…" she muttered.
Edward stared blankly at the ground. "I've been thinking the same thing, Silvia. Exactly the same."
Silvia turned her head to study Edward's face closely. The boy was doing his utmost to appear calm and strong, but his eyes told a different story. Deep within them lay a fear he was trying so hard to carry all by himself.
Silvia recognized that look. She had seen it years ago, when she was younger and felt overwhelmed by the harshness of life—the look of someone who feels the world is too big, too heavy, and too frightening to face alone.
"Edward?"
"Hmm?" he answered without looking up.
"You can be honest with me. Completely honest."
Edward remained silent, his lips pressed tight.
"I know I might not be able to make all your troubles disappear right away," Silvia went on, offering him a faint, reassuring smile. "But at least… you don't have to carry them all by yourself. You have me, and everyone else here too."
Those simple words struck deep into Edward's heart, making his chest ache and his eyes burn. For weeks now, he had been carrying everything alone—the presence of Destrover inside him, the recurring strange dreams, visions of a burning ancient city, the voice that came from his pendant, the name Equilibris that kept echoing in his mind, and his greatest fear: that one day he might lose control over himself.
"I'm scared, Silvia," he finally said, his voice cracking into a whisper. "I'm so scared."
Silvia turned fully toward him, watching as his composure finally broke and his vulnerability showed. Without another word, she reached out and patted his shoulder gently. The gesture was simple, yet it meant more to him than any number of soothing words ever could.
Before their conversation could continue, the sound of steady yet heavy footsteps approached from the main building.
Tap…
Tap…
Tap…
Edward and Silvia turned as one.
Grandmaster Altheon was walking toward them. Usually, the old man carried himself with a quiet calm, a gentle smile always present, radiating the warmth of a wise teacher. But today, everything was different—very different.
His face was unusually grave, far too serious. The lines on his forehead seemed deeper than usual, and his eyes lacked their customary calm.
Silvia stood quickly to greet him. "Grandmaster?"
Altheon stopped a few paces away. His gaze first settled on Edward's face, then slowly drifted to the sword-shaped pendant resting against the boy's neck. It was only a brief glance, but the deep worry in his eyes was unmistakable—something that made Silvia's unease grow even stronger.
"Edward," Altheon said, his voice low and heavy.
"Yes, Grandmaster?" Edward replied, rising to his feet as well.
"I need to speak with you. Alone—or rather, with Silvia present as well, since she is already deeply involved in all this."
His tone was not raised, yet it carried a weight that felt almost tangible. It was as if he bore news of great importance, yet news he would rather not have to deliver.
A few minutes later, all three were seated in Miss Selner's small office, which Altheon had borrowed for the time being. The room was simple—lined with old wooden bookshelves, holding a worn desk, and a window looking out onto the back garden.
But today, the atmosphere felt far tighter and more oppressive than usual. The air seemed thick, as if holding back countless secrets that threatened to burst forth.
Silvia sat beside Edward while Altheon stood near the window, looking out as if searching for the right words to begin. No one spoke, and the silence stretched on, growing heavier by the second.
At last, Edward could bear it no longer. He drew a deep breath and spoke clearly but respectfully.
"Grandmaster."
Altheon turned slowly. "Yes, Edward?"
"What is it? What has made you look so serious?"
Edward stood slowly, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, a new resolve settling in him.
"I want to know everything," he said firmly. "For so long, everyone has told me the same thing: wait until the time is right, wait until you are strong enough, wait until you are ready to know the truth. Wait… wait… and keep waiting."
His voice began to tremble, tangled with frustration, confusion, and fear.
"But when will that time come? I am the one seeing these dreams. I am the one hearing strange voices inside myself. I am the one feeling this foreign power trying to break free. And I am the one who suddenly bears the same symbol found in those ancient archives."
Edward held up his palm—though the mark was no longer visible, he could still feel its cold, thrumming sensation clearly.
"So please tell me now… what does that symbol truly mean? And who—or what—am I really dealing with?"
Silvia looked sharply at Altheon. She too had grown tired of guessing and receiving vague answers. For the first time, both of them were demanding real, honest answers from the old man.
Altheon closed his eyes slowly, as if summoning the last reserves of strength left in his aged body. For decades, he had carried the duty of guarding the world's greatest secrets. For decades, he had hoped—fervently hoped—that these secrets would never need to be uncovered again.
But things had changed. Edward had changed. The seal holding the power within him was changing. And it seemed the wheel of history, which had long stood still, was beginning to turn once more. The time he had thought was still far away might be much shorter than he had imagined.
"I had hoped this day would never come," Altheon murmured, his voice sounding weary—more weary than either young person had ever heard it.
Edward and Silvia exchanged glances, feeling the heavy burden pressing down upon the room.
At last, Altheon opened his eyes again. He walked to the desk and pulled out an old book from the drawer. Its cover was worn and nearly crumbling with age, yet it remained intact, as if protected by some unseen power. This was the volume he had discovered the night before in the secret archives.
He set it gently on the table, and fine dust rose with his breath. Edward swallowed hard, while Silvia watched, equal parts hopeful and anxious.
With slightly trembling hands, Altheon opened it to a certain page. His finger rested upon the ancient script written clearly there, and he spoke in a quiet but steady voice.
"Last night, I came across a name. A name long erased from history books, erased from the memories of most people—yet still hidden within these pages of old records."
The room fell instantly silent. Edward's heart began to beat faster, while Silvia unconsciously held her breath.
So far, they had only encountered names that brought more questions: Destrover, the Guardian of Balance, the Forgotten Sword. Now there was another—one that might hold the key to everything.
"This name… most likely has a direct connection to you, Edward," Altheon said softly.
Edward looked straight into the old man's eyes. "What is it, Grandmaster?"
Altheon glanced down at the writing for a moment, as if even speaking it felt heavy. Then he lifted his gaze once more, meeting Edward's directly. And for the first time in all their known history, the name was spoken clearly and without hesitation.
"Equilibris."
Thump.
For a heartbeat, Edward's heart seemed to stop. His body froze completely. Silvia's eyes went wide with disbelief.
It was the same name—the one that appeared again and again in Edward's dreams, the one he heard faintly in visions of the ancient city, the one whispered in every strange sight. But this time it was different: it was no longer just a murmur in sleep or an uncertain myth. It was written plainly in the pages of real history.
And the moment the name was spoken aloud, the sword-shaped pendant around Edward's neck began to thrum softly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
It was as if something long hidden deep within the metal… was slowly waking from its ancient slumber.
No one in the room noticed what was truly taking place. But deep within the innermost reaches of Edward's consciousness, behind the thickest darkness and the mass of ancient chains that bound it, a pair of blazing red eyes slowly opened.
Destrover had awoken.
And for the first time in countless years, a smile curved across the shadowy giant's face—a smile full of meaning and quiet satisfaction.
"So at last…" he rumbled, his voice echoing only in that inner realm. "That name is spoken once more. How very interesting…"
Meanwhile, in the world outside, Edward remained staring intently at the old book on the desk. A strange feeling settled in his heart—the sense that his life had just stepped into a new chapter, one darker, more mysterious, and perhaps far more dangerous than anything he had ever faced before.
The room fell once more into a deep, heavy silence. The only sounds were the faint hiss and soft crackle of the oil lamp illuminating the space. Altheon stood straight behind the old desk, his gaze fixed intently upon the open pages of the ancient book before him. Meanwhile, Edward and Silvia sat in their chairs, holding their breath in anticipation, their hearts beating far faster than usual, as if they could sense the weight of the truth about to be revealed.
Altheon drew a long breath and let it out slowly, as if gathering the strength to speak of something he had kept buried for many years. Then he began, his voice low but clear.
"Much of what is taught as history in our world today… is not entirely true."
Edward frowned, confused by the statement. "What do you mean, Grandmaster?"
Altheon offered a faint smile, though it held no warmth. Instead, it was the expression of someone weary from carrying a heavy truth.
"Because history itself is written by those who survived—not by those who were defeated, and certainly not by those who knew the whole truth."
The room grew even quieter, as if paying respect to the weight of his words.
"Long before the Kingdom of Huinjou was founded and grew into what it is today," Altheon continued slowly, "long before any of the great kingdoms of this continent came to be, the world stood on the very brink of total destruction."
Silvia swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down her spine as she listened to the gravity in his tone.
"In those days, two great forces dominated everything. Two powers that stood in direct opposition to one another, yet were equally overwhelming," Altheon explained. "Light… and Darkness."
Hearing those words, Edward's mind drifted instantly. He recalled the visions that had so often haunted him—the image of a magnificent ancient city, armies glowing with radiant light, others made of swirling shadows, and a great war that had threatened to consume everything.
"A war…" Edward murmured so softly it was almost inaudible.
Altheon nodded slowly, his eyes locking directly onto Edward's. "Yes. A war that raged for so long and with such terrible force that continents were shattered, coastlines were forever altered, great mountains crumbled to dust, and even the sky above seemed wounded beyond repair."
Edward's eyes widened, his heart pounding rapidly. Was this what he had seen in those visions that often left him waking in a cold sweat? Had all those terrifying images truly happened in a forgotten age?
Without realizing it, Edward's hand moved slowly toward the sword-shaped pendant resting against his chest. The metal, which usually felt cool to the touch, was now warm against his palm, and it began to throb gently—a steady rhythm, like a living heartbeat.
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Suddenly, faint flashes of imagery flickered through his mind: a sky turned blood-red, great white wings soaring high, an enormous blade of black and silver, and at the center of it all, a voice that seemed to come from far away yet sounded clear as day, whispering: "The balance must be preserved…"
Edward gave a small start, as if waking from a deep trance.
"Edward?"
Silvia's voice cut through the silence and pulled him back. He turned to see her face filled with concern.
"Are you all right? You suddenly look terribly pale."
Edward nodded quickly, forcing himself to steady his breathing, though inside he felt anything but certain. The more Altheon explained, the stronger the feeling grew—as if these stories were not something entirely new to him, but rather things he had once seen or felt in a distant, half-remembered place.
Altheon resumed his tale, his voice still quiet but carrying a profound weight.
"In the end, the war descended into uncontrollable madness. Neither side could truly claim victory, nor was either utterly defeated. But one thing was certain: the world itself became the victim, and nearly perished forever."
Silvia listened intently, never taking her eyes off him, while Edward felt the hairs on his arms stand up once more.
Altheon closed his eyes briefly, taking another deep breath before continuing. "Then, in the midst of all that ruin… something arose."
Edward stared at him, a mixture of curiosity and tension in his gaze. "Something?"
"Something that belonged neither to the side of Light, nor to the side of Darkness," Altheon replied slowly. "Rather, it stood firmly between them, serving both as a bridge and a force to maintain balance."
The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew heavier, as if even the air itself was holding its breath.
"Balance," Altheon said firmly.
That single word echoed softly against the walls. And as if responding to it, the pendant in Edward's hand throbbed more strongly than before.
For a moment, Edward felt something strange—not a voice speaking, nor an image appearing, but a sudden emotion that welled up from deep within his heart. A profound sense of loss, mixed with a sadness so vast it made his chest feel tight and aching. It was as if someone, or something, long forgotten was calling out to him from a place far beyond reach.
Edward pressed his hand firmly over his heart, frowning in confusion. Why? he wondered silently. Why do I feel this way? I do not even know who or what we are speaking of yet.
Altheon then turned the page of the old book. There, an illustration was visible—though much of it had faded and was nearly lost to time. Yet its outline could still be made out: a figure clad in long robes, with brilliant light radiating from its right side while its left was shrouded in deep shadow. Behind the figure was drawn a strange circle resembling a pair of eyes—one glowing red, the other deep blue.
Altheon pointed to the drawing with a finger that trembled slightly.
"This being was known as…"
He paused for a moment, as if needing to summon the courage to speak the name. Then, in a clear and steady voice, he uttered it.
"Equilibris."
The room seemed to freeze. Edward felt as though his heart skipped a beat. That name. Again. The name that had appeared over and over—in his strange dreams, in visions that left him bewildered, in the ancient records they had found, even in whispers he heard when he was half-asleep. And now, it was written clearly as part of the world's true history.
"Equilibris…" Edward repeated softly, feeling a strange vibration in his chest. It sounded foreign to his ears, yet at the same time felt deeply familiar—as if he had spoken it a thousand times in some distant, forgotten past.
Silvia studied the faded illustration with mixed feelings. Something about it made her feel uneasy, sending a chill down her spine for no clear reason. She could not explain exactly what she felt, but ever since first hearing that name, she had sensed a vague, lingering fear—not of the name itself, but of the immense secret that might lie hidden behind it.
"Grandmaster…" Silvia spoke carefully, her voice quiet. "Did this being named Equilibris truly exist?"
Altheon did not answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed upon the ancient drawing, as if seeing something that ordinary eyes could not perceive.
"According to the records that survived and were not destroyed…" he replied slowly, "it did."
The answer cast an even heavier, more oppressive mood over the room.
Edward continued to stare at the page, unable to look away. Deep within his heart, a feeling began to grow—one difficult to put into words. It was as if someone was knocking gently upon the door of his memory, someone who had waited for a very long time to be recognized.
"I have heard that name before," Edward said suddenly, his voice low.
Silvia turned to him in surprise. "What?"
Edward frowned, trying to find the right words. "In my dreams. In the visions that come to me. Even in the faint voices I sometimes hear…"
Altheon turned his full attention toward him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you certain of what you are saying, Edward?"
Edward nodded slowly, his hand returning to rest over the pendant at his chest. "And every time I hear it… I feel as though I have lost something precious, something I cannot quite explain."
Silvia watched Edward's expression closely, and she did not like what she saw. There was a deep confusion in his eyes, as if the world he had always believed in was slowly crumbling away, replaced by a truth far more complex and terrifying than he had ever imagined.
And in that moment, a thought crossed Silvia's mind. Perhaps the greatest threat they faced was not Destrover, sealed tightly within Edward. Perhaps it was the truth itself—a truth that might change everything forever.
Altheon slowly closed the ancient book, the pages making a soft rustling sound.
"There is a very important reason why the name Equilibris is considered so great and significant," he said seriously.
Edward and Silvia immediately gave him their full attention.
The old man drew a long breath, as if preparing himself to speak of the heaviest and most important truth of all.
"According to the ancient legends written in these pages… Equilibris was the only being who possessed the power to seal Destrover away."
Edward froze in place. Silvia's eyes went wide with disbelief.
Altheon continued firmly. "No Guardian, no mighty King, no great sorcerer—not even the gods themselves were capable of doing so. Only Equilibris."
Silence returned to the room. The words struck them like a bolt of lightning. Until now, Edward had always believed Destrover and Equilibris were entirely separate, distinct entities. But in reality, they were bound together from the very beginning.
Deep within the dark realm of consciousness, behind towering, unyielding chains, a pair of blazing red eyes slowly opened. Destrover had heard every word Altheon had spoken, capturing every detail of the tale.
Then, his deep, heavy voice echoed through the thick darkness.
"So… you have finally uncovered that part as well…"
For the first time, there was no trace of anger or threat in his tone. Instead, it held a faint, distant quality, as if filled with old memories and a profound sense of longing.
Altheon stood tall and walked slowly toward Edward. His gaze was heavy—so heavy it seemed as though he himself was reluctant to speak the thought that rested in his mind. Yet he knew the two young people before him had the right to know the hidden truth.
"Edward," he called gently but firmly.
Edward lifted his head to meet the old man's eyes.
Altheon looked straight into the boy's eyes, unblinking.
"If my theories and all these records are correct…"
Time seemed to stand still. No one moved, no one dared to breathe. Even the flame of the oil lamp appeared to pause, as if holding its breath.
"Then you are not merely a Vessel—a container meant only to hold Destrover."
Edward went completely still. Silvia's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment.
Altheon continued, his voice soft but clear enough to shake Edward's entire world.
"You may also be… the Heir of Equilibris."
Silence. Absolute silence.
Edward could not find the words to speak. Silvia stared, her eyes wide with utter disbelief.
Suddenly, the sword-shaped pendant around Edward's neck began to throb with immense force.
Thump!
Thump!!
Thump!!!
A faint glow of red and blue light burst briefly from its surface, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. But one thing was certain: from that night onward, nothing would ever be the same.
For the first time in his life, a question began to form in Edward's mind: What if Destrover is not the only power sealed inside me? What if something far older, far more ancient, and far greater… has only just begun to wake from its long slumber?
Night fell slowly over the entire region of Hougwe Village. The sky deepened into inky blackness, stretching wide like a great blanket draped over the earth. One by one, stars began to appear, twinkling faintly in the distance—a sight that usually brought peace to anyone who gazed upon it.
But that night felt strangely different for Edward. The air was too still, too quiet, as if the whole world was holding its breath. Oddly enough, the calm that should have soothed his heart only made the unease growing within him swell stronger.
He lay still on his small bed, staring blankly up at the dim ceiling of his room. The words Altheon had spoken that afternoon kept replaying endlessly in his mind, refusing to fade away.
"You may also be the Heir of Equilibris."
The Heir of Equilibris.
The phrase sounded so impossible, far too heavy to simply accept. Yet the more he tried to deny it, the more pieces of his past experiences began to fit together—the recurring strange dreams, visions of the past that felt vividly real, the Red-and-Blue Eye symbol that appeared time and again, the sword-shaped pendant he always wore, and the faint voices that kept calling his name. Slowly, they all began to form a single, complete picture.
Edward squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to push all the thoughts swirling in his head aside. He tried to steady his breathing, hoping to drift off and forget the weight he carried, if only for a little while. But just as his consciousness began to fade and sink into stillness…
Something happened.
A flash of light struck, swift as lightning across the sky. And in the blink of an eye, the world around him vanished completely.
Edward opened his eyes slowly. But what he saw was nothing like the familiar walls of his room. There was no bed, no small table, no shadow of the orphanage building in the distance.
Instead, he stood in the middle of an endless, vast expanse of white light. Sky and ground seemed to merge into one, creating a landscape where everything was made of soft, gentle radiance.
Edward turned slowly in every direction, his eyes wide with disbelief, while his heart beat rapidly in his chest.
"Where… am I?" he murmured softly, his voice echoing faintly through the vast space.
No answer came. Only silence surrounded him. Yet strangely, this silence felt nothing like the dark realm of Destrover he had visited before. There, the darkness had felt terrifying, oppressive, and heavy. Here, it felt warm and comforting—like the gentle embrace of someone long lost. And that very feeling only left Edward more confused and cautious.
Then, from far across the sea of light, something began to move. Slowly but steadily, a figure drew closer, gradually becoming clearer with every step.
Edward held his breath, staring intently at the approaching form.
Standing before him was a tall, sturdy figure clad in a long, pure white robe that shimmered with soft light. But what caught Edward's attention most was its back—where a pair of enormous white wings stretched wide, their feathers gleaming like perfectly polished silver. The figure was breathtakingly beautiful, almost perfect, yet at the same time it sent a shiver down Edward's spine.
This was the first time since all these mysteries began that something had appeared before him that was not Destrover, not a pair of blazing red eyes, nor a terrifying darkness. It was something entirely different.
The figure stopped just a few paces away. Yet its face remained blurred, as if shrouded in a thin, impenetrable mist. Edward tried to look closer, to see who stood before him, but his efforts were in vain.
"Who are you?" Edward asked, his voice steady though trembling slightly.
Still no answer came. The figure remained silent, as if gazing back at him—or at least, that was how it felt to Edward.
The longer Edward looked at the calm figure standing before him, the stronger a strange feeling grew in his chest. He felt no fear, even though he knew he should be afraid in such an unfamiliar place. Nor did he feel suspicion, even though he had learned to be wary of everything that appeared within his mind.
Instead, what he felt was a deep, aching sadness—a feeling hard to put into words, as if he had just been reunited with an old friend separated from him for thousands of years.
"I… I know you, don't I?" Edward whispered softly, almost to himself.
For a moment, the figure seemed to shift slightly. It looked as though it wanted to reach out a hand toward Edward, but then the movement stopped, and its arm lowered slowly once more. That simple gesture felt strangely sorrowful, making Edward's chest feel tight and heavy.
A soft breeze drifted gently between them, carrying flecks of light that sparkled like stardust. And at last, after standing in silence for so long, the figure began to speak.
Its voice was calm and deep, carrying the weight of immense age, yet still warm and reassuring—like that of someone who had waited a very long time for something.
"Find the sword…"
Edward froze instantly. It was just a simple sentence, yet it made his entire body tense.
The sword? Which sword? Did it mean the Forgotten Sword? Or the massive black-and-silver blade that had appeared so often in his visions?
Edward took one step forward, his eyes fixed sharply on the figure.
"Wait! Wait a moment!" he called out. "What do you mean? Which sword must I find?"
But the figure remained silent, offering no reply.
Suddenly, the light behind the figure began to ripple and shift like the surface of water struck by a stone. Slowly, a silhouette began to form behind it—faint and distant, yet clear enough to recognize.
An enormous sword.
It stood firmly embedded in a grand stone altar, surrounded by great, heavy ancient chains. The sight was exactly like what Edward had seen in his earlier visions. But this time there was a striking difference: the blade radiated two distinct kinds of light at once—bright white radiance and deep, inky blackness—as if two opposing forces existed within it in perfect harmony.
Edward could not tear his eyes away. His heart beat faster and faster, as if ready to leap out of his chest. For some reason, he felt as though the sword was calling his name, urging him to come and find it.
The white light filling the space slowly began to fade. The world of radiance seemed to crumble gently, breaking apart into tiny glowing particles that drifted away like sand caught in the wind. The figure with white wings also began to dissolve, slowly vanishing from sight.
Panic rose in Edward. He stepped forward, reaching out.
"Wait! Don't go yet!" he shouted. "What must I do? Tell me!"
For the first time, the figure lifted its head slightly. Though its face remained hidden by mist, Edward could sense a faint smile touching its features.
Then the voice spoke again, softer than before yet clearer and more touching than ever.
"Find the legacy of Equilibris…"
Thump.
The name was spoken once more. But this time it felt far more real, far closer—no longer just an ancient legend or a myth told by elders, but a destiny written long ago.
As the world around him began to truly fall apart and darkness slowly crept into his vision, Edward caught one last faint whisper—so quiet it was almost impossible to hear.
"We are still waiting for you…"
Not I, but we. As if many others were hidden behind that sea of light—many souls, many guardians, and many secrets, all waiting for his arrival.
Gasp!
Edward jolted awake suddenly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Beads of cold sweat covered his neck and forehead, leaving his clothes damp.
The room around him was still dark, lit only by faint light seeping through the thin curtains. But something was different—something that made Edward freeze in place.
The sword-shaped pendant around his neck… was glowing.
Its light was not bright or blinding, but clear enough to illuminate his palm as he slowly lifted it.
Edward stared intently at the object, his eyes wide with disbelief. For the first time since he had worn it, the surface of the old metal seemed to change. A new engraving appeared—one that had never been there before: a long, elegant ancient sword, with a pair of wings spreading beautifully on either side. The carving glowed faintly, as if just waking from a sleep lasting thousands of years.
Edward swallowed hard, his hand beginning to tremble.
"This symbol…" he murmured softly.
He had never seen it before, yet it felt strangely familiar—as if a part of him understood its meaning. His gaze then drifted to the bottom of the engraving, where he saw it.
Carved clearly in ancient script was a single word, slowly glowing with pale blue-white light. One name that now appeared again and again, linking all the mysteries he faced—about Destrover, about the vessel, about the Forgotten Sword, about the lost city, and about himself.
Edward read the inscription, his voice shaking heavily.
"Equilibris…"
The moment the name was spoken, the pendant throbbed once gently. And somewhere far beyond the reach of Edward's knowledge and sight… something that had slept soundly for thousands of years finally began to open its eyes.