The night was calm, veiled in silver mist and the flickering glow of sky lanterns that rose slowly above the palace. Alaric and King Rudolf stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing across the starlit expanse of the capital. The celebration beneath them carried on—dancers twirling, glasses raised, the hum of violins weaving through the midnight air.
But their eyes were not on the festivities. Their thoughts lingered elsewhere.
Rudolf spoke without turning.
"By the way… what's the condition of Elijah's body now?"
Alaric's lips curled into a faint smile, his arms folded behind his back. "Ah, nothing to worry about. Everything's fine now. His essence block is complete. And I've managed to fully unlock his essence just this evening."
Rudolf's expression shifted—subtly shocked, almost awed.
"Most mages lose their magic entirely after consuming a Red Elixir… but Elijah—he's different. It's beyond rare. It's extraordinary."
Alaric's tone remained steady, though a glint flickered in his eyes.
"Not just extraordinary. His essence took longer to block than any case I've studied. And when it finally sealed… it didn't decay or twist. It resonated—like it was waiting for something."
Alaric looked away, rubbing his temple.
"That shouldn't even be possible… unless I had created the method myself."
Rudolf didn't reply at first. He simply smiled—calm, enigmatic.
After a moment, he asked, his voice quieter now.
"Tell me, then… how did you unlock it?"
The air shifted. A breeze stirred the lanterns. The moon dipped beneath a drifting cloud.
Alaric's gaze wandered toward the horizon, distant and thoughtful.
"Of course," he murmured. "It happened in the evening…"
And with that, the memory unfurled—
carrying them back to the twilight courtyard.
The orange hue of twilight spilled across the courtyard as Elijah walked beside Alaric, the cobblestones warm beneath their boots. The world was quiet, save for the distant call of ravens and the whisper of wind through the garden trees.
"So," Alaric asked, casually, "what's the condition of your body now?"
Elijah stretched his arms lightly, rolling his shoulders. "The symptoms faded completely. The burning in my chest, the dizzy symptoms—all gone."
A slow grin spread across Alaric's face. "Hah. Then it's done. Finally, your essence has blocked."
Elijah tilted his head. "You make it sound like a good thing."
"You're an exception," Alaric replied. "For most mages, their essence blocks instantly—or within hours at most. Yours took weeks. And that's not a weakness—it's proof of how vast and unique your essence truly is."
Elijah blinked, trying to process the words. "So… when will I unlock it?"
Alaric met his eyes and gave a subtle, approving nod. "Now. You're unlocking it—right now."
"Right now?" Elijah echoed, eyes wide with disbelief.
Alaric's expression turned serious. "But first… I need to do something."
He stepped back and extended his hand. Magic flared briefly as the air trembled. Then, from the void, a weapon appeared—black and gold, humming with ancient resonance.
Elijah gasped. "That's—Musagi! My Musagi!"
Alaric held the weapon with reverence, then slashed it once through the air. A rift tore open before them—a portal, spiraling with light and shadow.
"Let's go," he said.
As they stepped inside the gate, Elijah's voice followed him.
"How did you wield Musagi so easily? It responded to you like it was yours."
Alaric didn't turn as they walked through the rippling dimension.
"Because it was once mine," he said calmly. "Musagi belonged to your father first. He entrusted it to me long ago. But now—you've summoned it. That means you are its true master. I was only ever its caretaker."
Elijah stared at the weapon in awe, feeling the hum of connection like a heartbeat.
"But… what makes Musagi so different from the others?"
Alaric slowed his pace, his voice echoing as they moved through a corridor of stars.
"Musagi, a Dyaus Migurith—a class of weapons lost to the world. There are only two types of weapons known to history: Normal Class and Ancient Class. Normal weapons are crafted by sovereigns—powerful, yes, but limited. But Ancient Class weapons like Musagi…"
He looked at Elijah with a rare flicker of reverence in his voice.
"They are born—not forged. They are manifestations of the soul, of unshakable desire. A bond between the wielder and the world itself. A Dyaus Migurith is not held. It chooses you."
Elijah's thoughts raced. "Sovereigns? Who are they?"
"They are beings equal in power to Monarchs," Alaric explained. "Chosen to maintain the balance of the Three Great Continents—Human, Spirit, and Demi. But this… is not the time to speak of them."
"Then… what about Dyaus Migurith?" Elijah asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Alaric's expression darkened, the weight of memory etched in his eyes.
"Remember this, Elijah—power always comes at a cost."
He paused, letting the silence settle.
"Normal Class weapons break without consequence. But if a Dyaus Migurith—an Ancient Class weapon—is destroyed, it doesn't just shatter. It tears into the soul of its wielder. Sometimes… it kills them."
Elijah's voice dropped. "But… aren't these weapons bound to the will of unknown deities? Shouldn't they be indestructible?"
A shadow passed across Alaric's eyes.
"Yes. Musagi is bound to the last whisper of a deity known as Solomon. But that God is no longer with us. This is a kingless world now."
Elijah's breath caught. "How could a Supreme Being like Solomon die?"
Alaric's voice softened, but within it lay the weight of unshakable truth.
"When one reaches that height of strength," he said, "the world beneath begins to vanish. Nothing can compare. And eventually, even gods face what they can't overcome."
He paused before continuing, his voice heavy and philosophical.
"In the First Cataclysm War, Solomon faced the Unknown—an army not from this world, but from beyond the fabric of time. He fought not as a god, but as a king… and died as a hero."
He looked away, lost in thought. "In that war, all Dyaus Migurith wielders fell. Their weapons vanished with them. Later, the Magus Tower destroyed the rest—deeming them too dangerous. Now… only Musagi remains. The last of its kind."
The portal began to shift again. A strange light swelled from the end of the corridor. As they stepped forward, Elijah found himself in a realm unlike any he had seen.
The darkness was vast—not empty, but alive. Stars floated around them like drifting lanterns. The air pulsed with unseen energy. Elijah's heartbeat quickened.
"What… is this place?" he whispered.
Alaric stood still, his hand resting on Musagi's hilt.