The Whispering Wood had not changed.

  Its presence still weighed upon the land like a living thought—ancient, observant, and utterly indifferent to mortal intention. The air at its outskirts was cooler, heavier, as though the forest itself were inhaling.

  One by one, they arrived.

  The sound of measured footsteps came first.

  Lord Kazane Hitoshirezu emerged from the tree line, robes neat, posture straight despite the long journey. At his side walked Arame, silent as ever, his eyes scanning the forest not with fear—but curiosity sharpened by instinct.

  Kazane stopped a short distance from the forest’s edge and rested his hand upon his scabbard.

  “This place remained the same after all this time,” he murmured. “It remained as mysterious as it is.”

  Arame inclined his head slightly, saying nothing.

  They waited.

  A chill wind preceded them.

  Silver-clad riders halted at the clearing’s edge, banners bearing the sigil of Valencrest fluttering once before settling. Seraphine Valencrest dismounted smoothly, her movements disciplined yet fluid, eyes sharp as she took in the forest.

  She dismissed her escort with a nod.

  As she approached Kazane, she lowered her head respectfully.

  “Greeting, Lord Kazane.”

  Kazane returned a shallow bow, a faint smile touching his weathered face. “I see that I am the only old one here.”

  Seraphine allowed herself a restrained smile.

  “My father will be joining us soon,” she replied. “He needed to ensure the Northern Hills remain secure before leaving.”

  Her gaze flicked briefly toward the forest.

  “These are uncertain days.”

  The air shimmered faintly as two figures reveal themselves from the West view.

  Eslene Covenus arrived first, her expression calm but alert, followed closely by her brother Varain, who looked far more interested in the strange trees than in the gravity of the meeting.

  They approached together.

  “Greeting, Lord Kazane,” Eslene said with a polite bow.

  Varain followed half a heartbeat later—sloppier, but sincere.

  Kazane acknowledged them both.

  Eslene straightened and spoke evenly.

  “My mother sends her regards. With the veil gone, we are still reinforcing defenses near the rift borders.”

  Her eyes darkened slightly.

  “We don’t know when Shadow Beasts may cross over… or in what number.”

  Varain scratched the back of his head.

  “Honestly? I was hoping today would be quiet.”

  Eslene shot him a death glare.

  Footsteps—confident, unhurried.

  Lucien Callus emerged alone, cloak fluttering faintly. The absence of his father was conspicuous, but his presence carried weight enough to compensate.

  He inclined his head toward Kazane.

  “Greeting, Lord Kazane.”

  “I attend on behalf of my father,” Lucien continued. “He will join us soon. For now, he remains focused on Vatican movements.”

  Kazane nodded.

  “I see.”

  The four houses—represented.

  Yet the forest remained silent.

  Kazane turned slowly, eyes drifting from the towering trees before them to the empty space behind.

  “I wonder when our host will arrive,” he said.

  “They surely do not expect us to enter the Whispering Wood ourselves.”

  A voice answered him.

  “As host,” it said calmly,

  “how could we allow our guests to wander into danger?”

  The air shifted.

  From behind them, footsteps approached—unhurried, deliberate.

  Kevlar emerged first from between the trees, violet eyes catching the dim light. Behind him walked Lilith, her presence quiet but unmistakable.

  And behind her—

  A massive shape.

  Stone-scaled limbs pressed into the earth as a giant earth dragon advanced on four legs, its breath slow and heavy. Seated casually upon its back was Draculius, in a cross leg pose, expression unreadable, while Camilia stood behind him with composed elegance.

  The clearing tensed.

  Hands hovered near hilts.

  But no weapons were drawn.

  Draculius’ presence alone was enough to restrain instinct.

  Kevlar raised one hand.

  “At ease, my friends,” he said. “It is just an earth dragon.”

  A pause.

  “And also… a friend of ours.”

  Seraphine frowned slightly.

  “A friend?” she echoed.

  “An earth dragon? I never knew them to be sentient enough to befriend others.”

  Kevlar forced a thin smile.

  “Er—this one is a bit special. But trust me… he’s harmless.”

  The dragon slowly turned its head.

  One massive eye fixed on Kevlar.

  The look it gave him was unmistakable.

  A raised eyebrow—if such a thing were possible.

  Varain swallowed.

  “…Harmless, huh.”

  Despite lingering skepticism, no one challenged Kevlar further.

  Trust—tentative, but given.

  Kevlar stepped past them, positioning himself at the forest’s threshold.

  “My apologies for the wait,” he said.

  “Allow me to guide you… into the woods.”

  He hesitated, then added quietly—

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “To my home.”

  Seraphine blinked.

  “Your… home?”

  “In the Whispering Wood?”

  Varain laughed awkwardly.

  “This place is known as one of the most dangerous and mysterious woods in existence. How can anyone live here—haha—”

  Kevlar lifted his hand.

  It passed through empty air—

  —and reality rippled.

  An invisible veil shimmered like disturbed water as his arm sank halfway through it. Kevlar turned his head back toward them.

  “Follow me.”

  Varain went silent.

  Eslene closed her eyes briefly and shook her head.

  She was thinking of her brother remark *Idiot*

  One by one, they followed.

  The moment they crossed through, the world changed.

  Dark, withered trees loomed around them—but their leaves glowed faintly, pulsing with ethereal light. Mana saturated the air, thick yet clean, resonating softly beneath the skin.

  It felt ancient.

  Alive.

  Seraphine’s breath caught.

  “Wow…”

  Eslene stared openly.

  “I never imagined it would be this beautiful,” she said.

  “And the mana… it’s incredibly rich.”

  Kevlar glanced back.

  “Don’t be fooled by the beauty,” he warned.

  “The danger is very real. Follow closely. And don’t touch anything.”

  They moved deeper.

  Sunlight pierced through narrow gaps between branches, casting fractured rays that danced along the forest floor.

  Lucien’s brow furrowed.

  “I sense beasts nearby, watching us” he said quietly.

  “But… it’s too quiet.”

  Kevlar smiled faintly.

  “A prey never announces itself to its predator.”

  Lucien frowned.

  “…But I don’t see any beasts.”

  Kevlar’s smile widened just slightly.

  “Because I am their predator.”

  Lucien fell silent.

  Eventually, Kevlar stopped.

  Once again, he raised his hand—this time toward empty space.

  The air folded inward.

  A stable void-rift bloomed before them, dark yet calm.

  “We’re here,” Kevlar said.

  “Come in.”

  He stepped through.

  Lilith followed.

  Draculius, Camilia, and the earth dragon moved without hesitation.

  The others exchanged glances.

  Then, one by one—they entered.

  Light.

  Warmth.

  Green.

  They emerged beneath a clear sky, sunlight spilling across vast rolling hills of emerald grass. The air smelled clean—untouched.

  Atop one of the hills stood a single house.

  Modest.

  Lonely.

  Perfectly out of place.

  Everyone stopped. They were beyond speechless by the view.

  From afar, Lilith waved.

  “Everyone! Come here—this is the place.”

  Lucien glanced at Eslene.

  She smiled as they clasped hands and ran down the hill together, laughter escaping them like children freed from restraint.

  Kevlar watched from near the house.

  For a moment, he simply stood there.

  Smiling.

  Relieved.

  His brother had grown beyond his complexity and found purpose. Found his light.

  Up close, the house revealed itself to be simple—stone walls, wooden beams. No grandeur. No excess.

  Kevlar placed his hand on the door.

  Sigils formed—as the house recognize it owner.

  Click.

  The door opened slowly.

  “Come in,” Kevlar said.

  “Let me show you around our home.”

  They stepped inside—

  —and stopped. Stunned once again.

  The interior expanded impossibly into a vast hall. Polished wooden floors stretched wide beneath a towering chandelier, warm light cascading downward.

  Only one word escaped their lips.

  “…Wowwwww.”

  Kazane frowned slightly.

  “Wait,” he said. “How was this possible?”

  Kevlar answered calmly.

  “Shadow magic. Just like the forest… and the greenland beyond it.”

  “It’s a dimensional pocket,” he continued, “a world within another.”

  Eslene blinked.

  “…Now I’m even more confused.”

  Lilith smiled.

  “One trait of Shadow magic,” she explained, “is storage without limitation inside the shadow space. The only limit would be it caster very own mana.”

  She raised her hand.

  Shadows spiraled at the hall’s center, shaping into a massive round table surrounded by chairs.

  Kevlar gestured.

  “Please,” he said.

  “Have a seat. Let us proceed with our purpose to gather today.”

  They sat.

  Kevlar took his place—Lilith perching casually on the armrest beside him.

  Seraphine notice and stiffened.

  She looked away quickly.

  Focus, idiot, she scolded herself.

  This is not the time to be distracted.

  Lilith noticed.

  And smirked.

  Even Eslene caught it.

  Kevlar’s voice cut through the moment.

  “Welcome,” he said.

  “I thank all four houses for answering the call.”

  “Today, we share our intelligence and findings,” he continued,

  “so that we may decide our next actions against the Vatican.”

  “I shall recognize each heir and patriarch present as the full representative of their house.”

  He turned his gaze to Seraphine.

  “Let us begin with the North.”

  “Lady Seraphine,” Kevlar said evenly,

  “if you would be so kind.”

  Seraphine straightened.

  Her expression sharpened.

  She nodded—

  —and began to speak.

  “The North will begin,” she said, her tone steady.

  She glanced briefly toward Kevlar, then to the others.

  “Since the veil disappeared, we have kept constant watch on the northern border. No vampire were seen crossing into our territory,” she explained. “However, Shadow Beasts have been observed positioning themselves along the boundary.”

  Her brows knit slightly.

  “They did not cross. They simply watched. Observed. Much like us.”

  Seraphine exhaled softly.

  “We believe it is caution—an unfamiliar world on both sides.”

  She continued, her voice sharpening.

  “However, we did encounter Vatican Inquisitors and scouting units snooping around the region. There were brief confrontations, but before any conclusion could be reached… they retreated.”

  Lucien frowned.

  “Retreated?”

  “Yes,” Seraphine confirmed. “Abruptly. As if something urgent demanded their immediate attention.”

  She shook her head.

  “Our intel teams attempted to follow up, but failed. Since the Vatican’s crusade was declared and decisively defeated, they have significantly tightened their borders. Information flow has nearly ceased.”

  She inclined her head.

  “That concludes the North’s report.”

  Kevlar nodded once.

  “Thank you, Lady Seraphine.”

  He shifted his gaze.

  “The West.”

  Eslene folded her hands together, her expression composed but serious.

  “With the veil gone, we immediately reinforced our rift borders,” she began. “There have been no breaches during this period.”

  A small pause.

  “However, our scouts reported something… unusual.”

  Varain leaned forward slightly. “Sister, let me report this”

  Eslene nodded.

  “Far to the southwest,” Varain continued, “a large Vatican force was seen entering the Shadow Realm through a route unknown even to us.”

  That stirred the room.

  “They were escorting an unknown structure,” she added. “Its origin and purpose could not be determined.”

  His lips pressed into a thin line.

  “None of that force returned.”

  Silence followed.

  “We believe they were wiped out,” Varain said quietly. “Whether by Shadow Beasts, the environment itself, or something far worse—we cannot say.”

  He sighed.

  “Unfortunately, since most of our manpower is focused on border defense, we have no further updates on Vatican movements.”

  Eslene looked up.

  “That concludes the West’s report.”

  Kevlar’s expression darkened.

  “Now, The South.”

  Lucien sat straighter, his tone measured.

  “Unlike the others, there has been no noticeable movement beyond the Vatican borders in recent days,” he said. “However—internally, the Holy City has undergone significant changes.”

  He paused, then continued.

  “My father has been tracking internal logistics. Supply lines have been redirected. Entire districts of the Holy City have been quietly relocated under the guise of what they call ‘safe sanctum.’”

  Eslene’s eyes widened.

  “But we haven’t made any declaration of war.”

  Lucien nodded grimly.

  “Exactly. The Vatican claims an impending war that may endanger it civilians. Yet the city itself has become… silent. Too silent.”

  His voice lowered.

  “As if they are preventing whatever is happening inside from being known.”

  “We attempted infiltration,” Lucien added, “but failed. The city walls are heavily guarded. Eyes are everywhere within their region.”

  Kevlar exhaled slowly.

  “I guess whatever they’re attempting,” he said, “those citizens will become its victims.”

  His gaze hardened.

  “And it will all be the doing of their Saint.”

  Kazane’s scabbard struck the floor with a dull thud.

  “That piece of shit!” the old lord growled. “Dragging innocent people into his insane scheme…”

  Kevlar nodded.

  “That is why we must stop this—before it reaches its end.”

  He turned toward Kazane.

  “Lord Kazane. What of the East?”

  Kazane took a moment, visibly forcing his anger down.

  “The East has always been distant from the mainland,” he said slowly. “There is little that we know which you do not already.”

  He reached beneath his cloak and withdrew a long, aged scroll.

  “However… we uncovered something left behind by our founding ancestor.”

  He unrolled it carefully across the table.

  An ancient mural was revealed—etched figures, fractured skies, falling lights.

  “Our ancestors were hermits and travelers,” Kazane explained. “They came from beyond the Mountains of Mist long before settling in this land.”

  He continue “And when i said long before, i meant as way beyond. I was made known that even our archive does not contained fully of our ancestry origin"

  “But among the few that they carried and preserved was this scrolls that recorded events predating our cycle.”

  His finger traced the mural.

  “At first, we dismissed this as myth. A story passing from one to another. But after careful study… it felt connected.”

  He pointed to the upper section.

  The sky burned.

  The sky-people fell as their sanctuary crumbled into the earth.

  He moved his finger downward.

  As mortals wept, the faithful sought to preserve their legacy.

  Finally, he tapped the last line.

  For with them, the belief of the fallen will also one day help it rise again.

  “That,” Kazane said quietly, “is all we have.”

  The room erupted into low murmurs—speculation, debate, fragments of realization.

  Kevlar raised a hand.

  “Let me piece this together.”

  The room fell silent.

  Kevlar shared then—of the Maw’s awakening. Of the Vatican’s intervention. Of the clash. Of the cannon. Of Lumiel. Of Serena.

  He spoke of one Archangel entombed… and another ascended.

  Eslene’s breath hitched.

  “The unknown structure…”

  Kevlar nodded.

  “A tomb which also work as a cannon.”

  A shadow shifted near the wall.

  Serena stepped forward from the darkness, her presence immediately tensing the room.

  Kevlar raised his hand calmly.

  “It’s fine. We’ve already resolved it. She is no longer under Fariel’s control.”

  Serena moved closer to Draculius, gently holding his hand.

  “She is no longer a weapon,” Kevlar said softly. “She is now just a daughter reunited with her father.”

  Kazane’s gaze remained sharp.

  “Regardless,” he said, “I will be watching you, young girl.”

  Kevlar inclined his head.

  “Your caution is appreciated, Lord Kazane.”

  He returned to the table.

  “Now—with the mural, with our encounters—we can deduce this.”

  “The Vatican might has discovered not one, but multiple Archangel entombed in capsule like cannons.”

  A chill ran through the room.

  “One Archangel is devastating,” Kevlar continued. “Two nearly overwhelm us.”

  Seraphine spoke quietly.

  “Multiple… would be a catastrophe.”

  Kevlar nodded.

  “I may be able to hold off a few,” he admitted. “But even I cannot face all of them at once.”

  Lilith placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling proudly.

  “I think you underestimate yourself.”

  Kevlar chuckled faintly, then turned serious again.

  “Now that we had deduce the intention of their plan, we cannot delay.”

  He looked at each representative in turn.

  “We must mobilize our forces.”

  A pause.

  “We must invade the Holy City.”

  “And destroy whatever awakening they are attempting—before heaven falls upon the world once more.”