Night had fully claimed the North.
Beyond the towering walls of Rosenfeld Estate, snow descended silently from a moonless sky. The world outside appeared swallowed by darkness, save for distant watchtowers whose lanterns burned like lonely stars upon the frozen earth.
Inside the estate, however, warmth still lingered.
Servants gradually extinguished unnecessary lamps.
Corridors emptied.
Conversations faded.
One by one, members of House Rosenfeld retired to their chambers.
The Hall of Dragons became silent.
And eventually—
Kel returned to his room.
The heavy wooden door closed softly behind him.
For a few moments, he simply stood there.
The room was familiar.
Comfortable.
Safe.
A luxury he rarely allowed himself to appreciate.
The fireplace crackled gently.
The scent of pinewood lingered in the air.
Outside the frost-covered window, snowflakes drifted downward beneath starlight.
Kel loosened the collar of his clothing before sitting upon the edge of his bed.
Then slowly—
He leaned backward.
The soft mattress sank beneath his weight.
For a moment, silence filled the room.
Yet his mind remained awake.
Far too awake.
Because tonight—
A single thought occupied his mind.
Constellations.
Two nights later.
His awakening.
His silver eyes stared toward the ceiling.
Unfocused.
Thinking.
Among the countless powers existing throughout the continent—
Constellation Awakening remained one of the most mysterious.
And one of the most important.
Unlike magic.
Unlike aura.
Unlike bloodlines.
Constellations could not be inherited.
Could not be purchased.
Could not be stolen.
They responded only to one thing.
Will.
The invisible essence of a person.
The sum of their beliefs.
Their desires.
Their convictions.
Their very existence.
And because of that—
Nobody could predict which constellation would answer a person's call.
Not completely.
Not even the Twelve Temples.
Inside his mind—
Sairen's voice echoed softly.
"Thinking about your awakening?"
Kel closed his eyes.
"Naturally."
The Guardian of Scarder Lake chuckled.
"Most people worry whether they'll receive a constellation."
A pause.
"You seem worried about which one will choose you."
Kel did not deny it.
Because it was true.
Among the eighty-eight known Scarder Constellations—
Many could potentially resonate with him.
The problem was determining which one would answer strongest.
His thoughts gradually drifted.
Toward history.
Toward the ancient lore of this world.
Toward memories from Destiny.
The game.
And the truths hidden within it.
Thousands of years ago—
Before the current age.
Before kingdoms.
Before empires.
Before noble houses.
The First Epoch had begun.
An age born from ruin.
Civilization had collapsed.
Knowledge had vanished.
Humanity had been forced to rediscover everything.
Magic.
Aura.
Alchemy.
Runes.
Every art known today had once been forgotten.
And during those ancient years—
The phenomenon had occurred.
A phenomenon that changed history forever.
According to every surviving record—
It happened on a moonless night.
The sky had been unusually clear.
No clouds.
No storms.
Only stars.
Countless stars.
Brighter than anyone had ever seen before.
People described them as living lights.
Burning jewels scattered across eternity.
Then—
The impossible happened.
The stars began moving.
Not physically.
But spiritually.
Invisible lines appeared between distant points of light.
One after another.
Connecting.
Linking.
Weaving together.
Until shapes emerged across the heavens.
Patterns.
Symbols.
Forms.
The entire sky transformed into a vast celestial tapestry.
And among those countless formations—
Eighty-eight great constellations revealed themselves.
The first Scarder Constellations.
Inside his mind—
Sairen spoke quietly.
"A beautiful story."
Kel replied.
"A terrifying one too."
The Guardian laughed softly.
Because she understood.
For those ancient humans—
The sky itself had awakened.
And worse—
It had begun calling them.
The call wasn't a voice.
Not truly.
No words echoed from the heavens.
No divine language.
No names spoken aloud.
Instead—
It felt like fate itself extending invisible threads.
A connection between stars and souls.
People felt drawn toward specific constellations.
Attracted.
Connected.
As though something deep within them resonated with the patterns above.
And over time—
Humanity adapted.
They learned.
They studied.
They experimented.
Eventually discovering the truth.
There were exactly eighty-eight Scarder Constellations.
And every constellation represented a specific aspect of existence.
A specific path.
A specific ideal.
Kel slowly opened his eyes.
The firelight reflected within them.
Eighty-eight.
A number every child learned.
A number every noble memorized.
Yet few truly understood.
Inside his mind—
Sairen suddenly asked:
"Which constellation do you think will answer you?"
Kel remained silent.
Because honestly—
He didn't know.
And that uncertainty intrigued him.
His thoughts drifted further into history.
Toward the Twelve Gods.
The figures worshiped throughout the continent.
The pillars of every major religion.
The greatest beings humanity had ever produced.
Most people believed the gods had always existed.
That they descended from the heavens.
That they were divine from birth.
But history told a different story.
A far more fascinating one.
The gods had once been human.
Every single one of them.
At the end of the First Epoch—
The first person reached the absolute pinnacle of their constellation.
Not merely wielding its power.
Not merely understanding it.
But becoming its embodiment.
Its living symbol.
Its perfect representation.
And thus—
The first god was born.
Not through inheritance.
Not through blessing.
But through mastery.
Then came others.
As centuries passed.
As humanity struggled.
As wars ravaged civilizations.
As monsters threatened extinction.
New gods emerged.
One after another.
In humanity's darkest moments—
Legends rose.
Eventually—
Seven gods and five goddesses stood above all others.
The Twelve Divine Embodiments.
The Twelve Heavenly Pillars.
The Twelve Deities worshiped today.
Kel slowly sat upright.
His gaze shifted toward the window.
Beyond it—
The stars shimmered across the northern sky.
Cold.
Ancient.
Eternal.
The Twelve Deities had become symbols.
More than people.
More than legends.
Entire faiths formed around them.
Kingdoms prayed to them.
Temples honored them.
Pilgrims crossed continents seeking their blessings.
And despite differing beliefs—
One unusual tradition united every empire.
The Twelve Temples.
Unlike many religions—
The Twelve Faiths rarely fought each other.
Because all twelve gods were acknowledged as equals.
Different paths.
Different ideals.
Yet all part of the same celestial truth.
Thus—
In nearly every major city across the continent—
Twelve temples stood together.
Side by side.
A shared sacred district.
Where priests of different faiths lived together.
Studied together.
And guided humanity together.
Inside his mind—
Sairen chuckled.
"Humans are strange."
Kel tilted his head slightly.
"How so?"
The Guardian laughed softly.
"They worship twelve people who proved humanity's potential."
A pause.
"Then spend centuries convincing themselves those people were never human."
Kel smiled faintly.
For once—
He agreed completely.
Silence returned.
The fire crackled softly.
Snow continued falling beyond the glass.
And above everything—
The stars watched.
Unchanging.
Ancient.
Patient.
Two days.
Only two days remained.
Soon—
Twelve priests would arrive.
The ritual would begin.
The heavens would answer.
And one among eighty-eight constellations would reach toward him.
Perhaps more.
Perhaps something unexpected.
After all—
Kel was no ordinary person.
Not anymore.
Not after Scarder Lake.
Not after becoming the Dragon Emperor.
Not after everything he had experienced.
Inside his mind—
Sairen suddenly spoke.
Her voice unusually gentle.
"Nervous?"
Kel stared toward the stars.
For several moments, he said nothing.
Then finally replied.
"Curious."
The Guardian smiled.
"Good."
A pause followed.
Then her voice carried ancient amusement.
"Because I am curious too."
Kel slowly lay back upon the bed.
The stars remained visible through the frost-covered window.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if they already knew something he didn't.
And somewhere beyond mortal sight—
Beyond clouds.
Beyond heavens.
Beyond time itself—
The eighty-eight constellations continued their eternal dance.
Waiting for the night when Kel Rosenfeld would finally look back at them